The Way Things Happen

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It was time to go see the shrink again and also the endo to check my hormone levels.

Julie had my last set of levels and told me that I was bang in the middle of the range for my age and that my liver function was excellent and that there didn’t seem to be any problems. In the interview we discussed how I felt about male company and I found that I had genuinely found some guys attractive but I didn’t feel I was ready to take it one step further.

We also discussed my development and my physical appearance. Julie was quite excited with my progress and asked if what she saw pushing out my top was all me — I assured her it was and she asked if I’d do a twirl for her so she could assess all the changes. “Are you taking measurements?” She asked afterwards.

“No, I am just finding the clothes fitting a bit better where they’re supposed to really — I know my boobs hurt a lot most of the time and my nipples are huge compared to what they were, and they seem to be hard all the time.”

“Is anyone taking photos of you at the pool?” She asked as if she’d just thought of something.

“Yes Helen took some the other day, why?” I was puzzled.

“Well I presume you were wearing a costume?”

“Yes, a bikini.”

“Could you get me a copy for my file? I think I’d like to get one of you from about six months ago too if that’s possible?”

“Sure, I think I can manage that — whole body or portrait?”

“Whole body if you have one”

“Yes. I’ve got one of me in the back yard at Easter, I was hanging off the washing line practising.”

“What were you practising?”

“Crucifixion of course, it was Easter” — I was thinking of continuing that line of joke, but I could see she was frowning — I chortled. “I’ll get you the piccie — you’ll see what I mean.”

“Nuff said,” she waved her hands. “See you next time.”

She wrote in the margin as I left, ‘stable, confident, secure.’

I wish I felt it.

About the middle of the third week I was believe it or not, beginning to get bored. Mum and Dad had decided to forego a holiday this year since Nigel wasn’t old enough to look after the house on his own (party time!!!) and the expense of my change was not going to be reimbursed by the insurance company for some more months — they said quarterly but that was from their start date which was about the end of July.

I asked mum if I could get a job, she reminded me that I was only 15 and I had to wait. I wasn’t 16 for a while yet (March) I had a long way to go. I took up tennis instead and Carol decided that she’d like to do it too — Wendy backed off and said it was hard enough to keep fit without doing things like play tennis. Apparently she had a history of tripping over her feet and damaging her wrists.

Tennis was a lot of fun and I thought I was doing great until I played a lad who was actually a year younger than me and a bit smaller — he beat me so thoroughly that I felt ashamed and lost my impetus for the competitive sports.

“Mum?” I called her attention as I scrunched into some really warm buttered toast, honey dripping from the fold.

“What precious? Did you spill some of that goo off your bread?”

“No, I was just thinking that I’m just so useless at tennis, perhaps I should try something like badminton or table tennis.”

“What makes you think you’d be any better at those? — why not go for broke and say Golf? The clubs are only about 400 pounds a set and the fees a mere 500 a year…look petal I just bought you a tennis outfit and a very nice racquet, could you keep it up for a while longer?”

“Well there is another reason, my boobs are getting in the way and they’re very tender and I keep rubbing them with my arms and it stops me making some of the shots and makes my serve rubbish.” I finished all in a rush.

Mum sat opposite me as I finished my toast. “It’s called body mapping dear, you are growing faster than your mind can keep up and it makes you clumsy like Wendy is at the moment.” I had to grin, remembering her falling over her doorstep the day before.

“Oh I see.”

“This is one year where you may be better off learning something like Swimming — but you won’t go in the pool much because you’re such a wus about the chemicals.”

“I’m a wus about the faeces mum, and all the urine. The chemicals are in there to prevent them from infecting us.” I shuddered and mum shook her head to clear away the image…

“Mmm, I get your drift,” we looked at each other sensing the awful pun and burst out laughing together.

“Hey how about sailing? There’s a sailing club down on the bay and you can meet some really nice people too.”

“Can I get lessons?” I was suddenly eager to take her up on this — it seemed ideal.

I suddenly daydreamed about some sexy guy in a roll neck sweater at the yacht club wining and dining me. Well buying me a coke and fries anyway!!

“Well why don’t you pop down to the bay chandlery and ask in there, they’re bound to know.” So I had a quest for the day.

I rang Wendy and asked if she’d like to come too, she said yes after a small pause, much to my surprise. I think she had daydreamed my daydream! Carol had latched onto a couple of guys at the tennis club I got a negative from her and I nearly got earache because she was lining me up with her potential boyfriend’s pal. I’m glad I wasn’t involved — the pal was a spotty red haired boy with dirty fingernails and knobbly knees (I found out later he was also Gay).

Wendy and I met up and caught the bus down to the bay — it was a nice spot and full of ice cream parlours and fish and chip shops. There was no fishing here since it was a sandy bay but there were always fresh shrimps and cockles and even whelks (eeewww) As we walked along the front it was interesting to note that the beach was littered with boys about our age — it seemed they had nothing to do either and no money to do it with. They played footy between piles of clothes used as virtual goalposts and Frisbee and volleyball — it seems 15 is the year for developing kids.

There were of course plenty of other folks on the beach and the colourful towels and umbrellas gave a jaunty air to the scene, the bay was full of little white triangles — the sails that we might be hauling on in the days to follow. We stopped for a milk shake and a doughnut before we reached the boatyard where the sailing club was. I hated paying tourist prices but I guess I was using their space so I had to pay the price. I would be glad when the tourists went home. Sadly that would be just before we went back to school. The thought suddenly made me draw breath.

“Someone walk over your grave?”

“Nah, my desk. I was just thinking about going to girls school this autumn.” I sucked on my straw — Banana milkshakes are yummy.

I caught sight of two guys come in the café and sit two tables over, they gave us the once over. I suddenly felt really shaky.

“What’s up? you really look weird now,” she furrowed her brow in consternation.

“Those guys, they were in my class,” I shrunk down behind Wendy so they couldn’t see me.

“I thought you were in a class of your own?” Wendy joked while trying to get a glimpse of the two guys in the mirror over the counter. “Hey they look ok.”

“Shut the hell up will you? I don’t want them to hear you and come over, damn, too late.”

The guys rose like they’d spotted some delicacy they’d like to acquire. They had, us.

“Hi, can we join you, we’re at a loss of what to do and you look similarly engaged.”

That was the biggest sentence I’d heard from David in the 7 years I’d known him.

He was really quiet normally and though well liked was a shy boy and kept much to himself — Tony was his only pal and true to form he was there at David’s elbow.

Wendy turned to the guys, “Hi we’re actually just going to see if we can learn to sail, but we decided to have a drink first, this is Jenny,” she introduced me, “and I’m Wendy.” The boys dragged over two stools as if they’d been invited and I let out my breath, it seems they were pretty much blind — they didn’t recognise someone they’d known for 7 years.

“Hi, we’re David and Tony,” David motioned to himself then Tony as he spoke. “Do you live round here?”

“Bus ride away, one stage,” Wendy offered.

“Great,” David looked like he’d won the lotto. “You too?” he looked at me with big cow eyes, I grinned suddenly thinking ‘oh my God, he’s after ME.

“Yeah, me too the number 17 from here.” Giving him an indication that it was in almost the same direction as them. They looked even happier if that was possible. I was reminded of Garfield’s sidekick.

I looked at them and they looked ok as far as boys do, and I realised that with these two hanging about it was likely that we wouldn’t be pestered too much by others — I had been ogled and accosted every day so far and whilst it was innocuous in the main, it was nevertheless a bit unnerving and tested me emotionally.

“Does it cost much?” I was brought to Earth.

“Pardon?” I almost jumped at the connotations that rose.

“Sailing, does it cost much to do it?” Tony volunteered.

“Oh., sorry, I was miles away. I don’t know we haven’t asked yet. Did you want to try it too?”

They looked at each other and both turned to us and beamed a big “YES! If you will”

We finished our drinks and rose to leave, the guys didn’t even have one. “Aren’t you going to have a drink?” Wendy picked it before I did.

“We’ll come with you if that’s ok?” David wasted no time.

In the Chandlery the sign was up for sailing school — I suddenly thought about my daydream of before and the sailor in the roll neck sweater buying me dinner then I saw the reality — an old school acquaintance, like a puppy dog panting at my heels. Ah well.

“Excuse me, could you tell us about the sailing school, we thought we’d like to try it?” I advanced to the old guy behind the counter — he looked less like an old seafaring man than a bank teller. He was sort of white smooth and round like a gobstopper (sucky sweet) with a combover and black horn rimmed glasses. He wasn’t tall and I’d say he was badly dressed but he was wearing a brown shop coat over his clothes so it was hard to tell.

“Yeas my little love,” he started, “there’s a school starting next week on Monday morning. You’ll need to fill in these forms and read the indemnity clause and if you’re under 16 your parent or guardian will have to sign.” He handed out a form.

“We’ll need four of them being as how there’s four of us,” I looked him in the eye, he levered his eyes off Wendy’s chest, Wendy didn’t look amused. Tony hadn’t noticed, he was looking at the same spot. “Sorry miss,” he said proffering the extra documents like sweeties… I had an image of him offering sweets to little kids … I felt sick.

“El Yucko, what a dirty old man,” I looked at Wendy as she flicked imaginary dirt off her clothes, “I hate guys like that, it’s so slimy.”

We sat down on a bench that overlooked the quay and the boys sat down David on my side and Tony on Wendy’s — I looked at Wendy and she shrugged and smiled back — she was comfortable with our puppies. I was too — it took all the hardship out of being a newbie at this — they would accept anything to be at our side. Behind our backs as we read the brochures and forms the guys looked at each other and smiled the smile of conquering heroes. We didn’t mind, and had I been one of the guys, I might have thought the same way. I had come a long way in the last few months. We left the boys on the bus on the way home, they were looking forward to seeing us on the Monday for the start of the course.

The cost of the sailing school was minimal and subsidised by the RNLI (Royal National Lifeboat Institution) which was fantastic. I guess they would rather have trained sailors out on the water than ignorant people they would have to rescue. All we had to do was supply our own clothing and indemnify the club if we drowned. I hope they were good teachers. Mum was as pleased as punch, she’d got us out of her hair for almost nothing and the clothing was to be scruffy stuff (not that I had any ) that didn’t matter if it got soaked.

I spent the weekend reading a rather old book on sailing that I found on the bookshelf — mum said all the names of the bits of rope and stuff were locked in history and would be the same now. I could imagine if it had been changed, it would sound a bit silly…. ‘Hoist the main engine’ — ‘reef that propellor’… Ah what wit.

Of course the boats we were to sail were the most ludicrous little tubs in the world — Mirror Dinghies. And motorless as even a Seagull Outboard engine would be too powerful for a boat of such miniscule dimensions.

Sunday we had a BBQ and dad decided to let me cook the meat, which meant it wasn’t a burnt offering — I must be daft because he said, “looks like you’ll be doing the cooking in future, you’re a natural.”

I managed to cook everything but the potato salad and coleslaw — which mum did ( no she didn’t cook it).

As we sat adjusting our belts after gorging on meat patties and sausages and loads of fried onions, dad looked over at me and I sensed he wanted to ask me some questions that may be difficult not only to answer but even for him to frame.

“Jenny, I’m not really helping you much at the moment, I don’t know how to — it is outside my ken (knowledge), I know mum said you’re doing Ok and I’ve seen the reports back from Julie (reports? I didn’t know she was reporting back!) that describe you as stable and enjoying life.

What I need to know from you is that you understand where you’re heading and an honest appraisal of how you’re coping with all this new stuff.”

It wasn’t a question, but it was a request for information on how I was doing. Dad looked quite pained, like he didn’t know who he was talking to. A stranger even. It felt awful. I could see he loved the noodles out of me but that he was lost in the cultural gap that he thought wasn’t going to be there as I grew up. Suddenly I was an alien. I wanted to go over and sit on his knee and give him a huge hug. A feeling I hadn’t felt since I was about seven guess.

Instead I left a silent gap for a moment then I looked at him — it was still daylight and warm. It was only 8 pm.

“You know when I look at you, I see someone different too, not the tough guy I’m going to model my life on, my role model, my friend and confidante. I see this kind and protective man, who has sacrificed his time to nurture and love his children and wife as best he can. Someone who will love me for who I am, no matter who I am. Who will one day give me away when I walk up the aisle in my wedding dress.”

He gasped suddenly as he pictured me in my wedding gown, a wonderful guy on my arm and proud family gathered round.

“I know it’s hard to imagine when I was your little boy just a few months ago. It’s harder for me even, since I hadn’t perceived that I was even destined to have this happen to me. Everything is different now, my friends, my future, my school, the only constants are my family. And most constant of all my mum and dad who shine out like a beacon with trust and love for me to follow.”

My eyes were glistening, I was trying to convey my love and my understanding of how they were treating me. So well that I had no compunction to hide or sidle away from anything I felt or thought. My complete trust and faith. Mum had been listening at the patio door as I spoke and came over and stood behind me and put her hands on my shoulders and kissed the top of my head.

“That’s a wonderful thing to say darling. I have to admit that we don’t tell each other of our love anywhere near often enough. I’d like to say that I love you both I’m very happy to have had the chance to know someone as lovely as you both are and proud to call you my daughter and my husband.” She gripped my shoulders again then let go, “Now come inside before the sand flies carry you off, and you have your sailing school tomorrow so get your gear ready — you can pay with your credit card.”

I went inside, mum dallied with dad outside and I could hear giggling and smooching so I left them to it…

I knew it, I just knew it — the weather was awful — blowy and cold. I rugged up in jeans and a windcheater over a woolly sweater. A pair of old trainers would suffice for this school so I wasn’t worried when I left the house. Wendy was at the bus stop and the bus arrived almost as I did — what impeccable timing. The guys were already on the same bus, so we felt obliged to sit with them — they grinned like grinning things when they saw us — words escaped me to see such a happy pair.

“Morning, nice weather for ducks eh?”

“Quack.”

“Morning Ducky.”

Oh the hilarity… I hate wet weather… I felt all steamed up already.

We got to the ing and the door was open so we walked in — the room was like a double garage lined with whiteboards with charts and zigzags and arrows all over the place in chinagraph pencil, there were 9 people there and one guy who looked like he was in charge (because he was wearing waterproof trousers and wellies.) He wasn’t in charge just a messenger, “The instructor will be a few minutes late — introduce yourselves and pass the indemnity forms to me if you would.” He held out his hand and had the forms in a few seconds — everyone was so clued in — it’s funny that a voluntary course will improve effective communication a hundredfold.

There were a few chairs scattered about and I pulled off my windcheater and draped it over a chair and turned the chair in towards where the others were — the class seemed to hold no one over the age of about 18 and two young guys looked about 14. Two more entered the room as we began to get organised — “anyone know how many there will be?” a question from one of the unknowns.

I volunteered, “the slimy guy in the shop didn’t even take names so I doubt anyone will know until we start.” As I spoke the instructor walked in, “the guy in the shop’s name is Arthur, my name is Al, I’m going to try to teach you how not to drown in a small boat and possibly how to sail it to a place where you intend with the minimum loss or damage. ‘Ah someone with a bit of wit.’ Crossed my mind.

“The boats you will be sailing,” he furthered, “will be the ubiquitous Mirror Dinghy, the only thing The Mirror tabloid ever got right. It’s easy to sail and easy to capsize and just as easy to uncapsize so you’re all in luck because you’ll be doing a lot of that.” He looked from one to the other and when he didn’t see anyone who looked scared, he moved on. “take a seat and point it generally in the direction of that wall — if you actually want to be able to see what we’re doing — he pointed at a wall with a large chart of our little bay. And an expanse of clean whiteboard.

I ended up sitting between Tony and David with Wendy next to David on the other side. We went round the class and introduced ourselves — I felt very self-conscious, but then I think most people do.

“Hi I’m Jenny I go to the Girls High school. I’m in year 11 this autumn.”

Sam the oldest student there at 18 was a bit thick it seemed but I found out later he was painfully shy and his mother had put him on the course to give him an outlet to make him less awkward. He was nice looking and due to go to Uni in three months to read medicine. The rest were all grouped around our age and seemed regular sorts.

That morning we needn’t have worried about getting soaked Al didn’t want us out in the boats in an offshore wind — not first time out anyway. The Mirror Dinghy didn’t ‘point’ too well and getting back if we could, would have been a major task. He had us tie some knots and learn the specifics of the little bathtub we were due to navigate. It seemed more like a cockleshell or a coracle with a sail than a boat, but they were unsinkable and due for praise as the most easy to use boat in existence.They only had one sail and a self supporting mast(no rigging) for a start.

We broke for a cuppa at ten thirty and there was a plate of biscuits. I suddenly found myself isolated from the group by my erstwhile boyfriend. I wondered if that was intentional or was it just one of those things. I truly hoped he wasn’t a jealous/possessive sort.

“Enjoying it so far?” Ok so he wasn’t the world ‘s most enlightened interviewer.

“Yeah the bit about the rabbit hole and the rabbit running round the tree was fun,” oh dear, I have my sarcastic hat on.

David looked at me for a hint of whether I was serious. I looked back at him. Suddenly he said, “What’s your surname?” He looked down at my folder — “Holland,

I knew it, I know your brother, is he your twin? I didn’t know he had a sister, he’s in my class, I’ve known him for, he doesn’t have a sister, I’ve been to his house for a birthday party.” He looked at my boobs suddenly wondering if they were real I guessed.

My mind was hijacked by a surge of adrenalin, I looked at him — Inside I felt absolute horror. Outside I hadn’t moved — not a muscle. “My cousin Jerry you mean?” I floundered. He was still checking out my chest. “Up here for facial communication David” His eyes moved up to my face.

“I’m so sorry, I had this sudden feeling that you were Jerry dressed up in drag… how daft can I get. You’re nothing like Jerry really just superficial — it was just that expression, I’ve seen it on Jerry so often.”

He looked me up and down and said, “you’re taller than Jerry too,” at that point he saw my sneakers. They were the same make as his, for good reason, he’d seen mine and asked me where I got them. He looked at my face again. “What?” I thought wildly why he was looking at me like a dog looks at a bone. “Those are Jerry’s sneakers.”

“You’re right, they are, so what?” I’m starting to sweat here, Wendy comes over just at that moment. “Hi guys what’s happnin?”

“David was just saying that he recognised Jerry’s sneakers cause he has some the same” — (he was wearing them, I had looked) “He actually recognised me from my resemblance to Jerry, isn’t that amazing?” My God I should lie for England at the Olympics.

“ I wonder why Jerry didn’t take them with him when he went to Scotland?” Wendy threw me a lifeline.

“He said his mum had bought him a new pair and he didn’t have room in his pack.”

I watched David relax out of the corner of my eye. My relief was at least tenfold of his! I realised I needed to watch every word now — when we went back to the chairs I sat next to Wendy and defused David’s intentions of having me as a crew mate. I needed some space for a while. David, I guessed, hadn’t fully let go of the idea of me being Jerry and I could feel his eyes on me most of the afternoon.

“Right class, see you on Wednesday,” I looked at the timetable not realising til then that Tuesday wasn’t on the schedule, it was the Day the Lifeboat went out and Al was a lifeboatman. We walked out into weak sunshine and a steaming road. The weather was much better and the wind had dropped — by Wednesday it would be ideal. Would I survive that long.

David came over, “Hey look--, in there,” he pointed at the sailing club over his shoulder with his thumb, “I didn’t mean anything by it, I just had a horrible thought, that you … well you know.”

“Yeah and I had a horrible thought too, that I might have made the mistake of liking you, except that you think I’m masculine enough to be a guy. That’s horrid.” I looked like I was about to cry — I was about to cry.

He made to put his hand on my shoulder, I stepped back and made my shoulder the farthest point from his hand… “No way, Jose. Not after that.”

I was not going to let him any closer EVER. Closed door. He looked dejected and turned away.

That night I cried, I cried for myself. That I was living in the shadow of Jerry and I knew it was going to take a while before my life became mine — if ever.

I had told mum when I got home what had happened, she commiserated and told me that life wasn’t meant to be easy and that there were so many boys out there “that if you weren’t careful you’ll run into another one any day now.”

Wisdom comes in some weird phrases. Fish in the sea and pebbles on the beach. She told dad, he came to me later and said if “anyone so much as looks sideways at you” he’d kick them and their dad into the next world. What a bully he is… I gave him a big hug and told him David still didn’t know and he never would.

We went to the sailing club on the Wednesday and guess what? David and Tony weren’t there. I relaxed and we went sailing. It wasn’t easy and we had a lot of laughs — I hadn’t realised, but most of the bay was so shallow that you could stand up in it most of the time. Wendy crewed with me and we learned to sail out little boat.

We got soaked every day for the week. I had to throw those sneakers out by Friday because they were rotten. On the Saturday we had to race to get the trophy for best students of the course.

The wind was really tricky and the triangular course had one leg that was directly up water and up wind — it was due to be a long tack. Sam and Susan who had hit it off on the course were in the lead and were followed by our intrepid band of sailors (David and Tony had given it away, they didn’t come back or complete the course) with Wendy and me in the tail as we’d been caught up on the bottom on the start and the centreboard was jammed we had to get out and push (literally).

When the first corner marker came up, they were all in bunch and when they tacked, they all spilled the wind at the same time and all but one capsized. By the time they had got going again and emptied their boats (bailing buckets were supplied !) we had passed them and were lying second to the two youngest in the course Brian and Bill, two 14 year old boys who I think were an item — which shocked me a bit. They had the weirdest way of smiling at each other … anyhow back to the race.

We reached the second marker and turned into the wind it send us straight backwards so we jibed off and tacked well out to the land side where the tide was running a bit the other way. Once we reckoned we’d made enough water we tacked back and realised we’d tacked too soon and would miss the third marker before our sprint home.

We looked for the opposition and they were right behind us but hadn’t tacked yet so they had more water than us — they would make it — we tacked away again — and as we dived under the sail, Wendy cracked her scone and went straight back over the side — she came up standing about 20 feet behind the boat spluttering and coughing, but ok. I whipped the boat round and slipped straight back for her but by the time we were under way again, we were third!!

We tacked down further to the coast and went way past where the others had tacked in the vain hope that they’d tacked too early — suddenly we found that the current was going our way and we were going a lot faster and the sail wasn’t straining as before — we tacked over and we sprang at the wind — making a heading way past the third marker and about a knot faster than the opposition, we could feel the raw energy of the 100 square foot of sail (maybe the keel board was dragging in the sand?).

We were leaning forward as if to encourage the boat along when we realised Sam‘s boat had stopped completely and the boat of the youngsters had flipped. The youngsters were frantically trying to upright their dinghy as Sam was trying (like we had to at the beginning) to release the keel board so that they could move — they did, but as soon as the keel board came up they went sideways losing their sea advantage.

We were going to win! Tthe other boats were behind us as they’d followed us out to the good current we were about 3 minutes ahead of the next boat over the line which was Courtney and Gill — two girls our age. We high-fived them ‘Girls reign supreme’.

Bridget, Susan’s sister had sailed with Al as crew and Al was playing dumb so as not to take the advantage — they came in last, laughing and carrying on — Al gave her a big hug, I suspected he crewed with her for a different agenda. I think I was justified in thinking so when she kissed him back in the clubhouse. Susan cheered her sister until Sam kissed her as well. Well at least some people got a romance out of their summer cruise.

We went home with the trophy which was about the size of the ashes cup! Carol and I promised to share it one month each — we broke up when we realised how pathetic that was. Life was good again. Dad was so proud, he asked if I thought I would like to do more sailing — I said not in a Mirror Dinghy!

I was scheduled to see Julie after the weekend and get another blood test, so I didn’t plan in too much. Mum said I should get the doctor to check my surgery site as well.

For some reason, I had not really been aware of how my body was progressing — I had no idea why I had taken that tack (I’m allowed to use these terms now, I’m a qualified sailor!) but it was on the Monday the day before my Julie visit that I stood before the mirror. I stood there naked — fresh out of the shower — I hadn’t tucked the end of the towel in over my breasts properly and it fell to the floor as I passed the mirror, I just absorbed what I looked like. I was a bit shocked.

“Mum! Can you come upstairs a minute?” It was called without alarm, I was only shocked as an intellectual observer might be.

“What’s up petal?” She sounded only a little concerned.

She saw me sat on the bed half turned away from her (not intentional just the bed was at that angle to the door)

I turned my head and smiled, I didn’t want her to freak, I saw her face relax just a weany bit.

I got up and turned my body towards her so that she could get a better view of the whole of me. She looked me up and down as she walked over.

“Well I never, I guess the treatment is working eh?” she didn’t look phased, and I could see she was pleased, “you’ll be ready as anything by the time school comes round.”

I smiled and nodded my head, “my thoughts too, I’m going to have a chat to the doctor and see if he can do anything about John Thomas — I really would like to be more physically correct if it’s at all possible before my 18th birthday!”

“I don’t see any harm in that, after all, you’re classified as a female — you should be able to get the operation when you’re ready. Talk to Julie tomorrow as well.”

It was odd looking in the mirror — I didn’t know what a live woman looked like down there, but I could see that except for the small penis, my pubis was like those pictures I’d seen in magazines and even, if the truth be told, in swimming costumes — it was only the presence of the small tag of skin that told me that everything was not perfect.

My hips had spread enough to give me a flat tummy and the lack of hair above my small triangle gave me a soft expanse of smooth skin.

My waist was distinctly narrow and I had a nice curve over the hip. It appeared that the fat cushion on my hip was established too! My torso tapered up from the bottom of my ribs to a nice pair of firm breasts. Not big, but I’m only 15. I gained confidence as I looked, I wasn’t the best looking girl in the world but I was nice enough and I know I looked better as a girl than I looked as a guy! To be honest, I don’t think I could be mistaken for a guy, even though I could see him in there somewhere.

Mum came back to the bedroom and looked at the latch on the door. “I think it’s time you had a lock on this door as well — I don’t want Pop wandering in and having a heart attack. He still forgets sometimes you know. And I wouldn’t put it past Nigel to inadvertently open the door. You need your privacy at times — it means a lot when you’re your age.”

“I haven’t seen Nigel for two weeks we don’t go to the same places — he’s going to get a shock isn’t he?” I grinned looking in the mirror.

“I think we should have a family meal and make sure he attends”

“I have a camera here, put on your bikini I want to take a historical shot, Julie mentioned it the last visit and you forgot to remind me. “

“Yeah sorry. I have to take a shot of me from Easter to show her too.” I grimaced — I was so taken up with me, that I forget everything!

“Well there’s a one hour shop in the village and this film is nearly finished, perhaps we can get your hair done while they’re developing it and then go see Julie.” Mum ruffled my hair and felt the condition. “You look after it nicely.” She smiled in a motherly way and hugged me to her. I was the same height nearly, I hugged her back not worrying that I was still naked.

The door opened downstairs and mum pushed the bedroom door shut, “put some clothes on petal, well, your bikini until I get the pictures.”

She used up the film with me posing on the bed and standing by the mirror to get front and back views. In a few minutes it was over and I got dressed and we went down to meet dad who had poured us all a drink - me included. I was wearing a shortish flared skirt with a soft short sleeved knit top. The skirt flared wonderfully over my hips and the top showed off my burgeoning breasts. I felt every inch a woman.

Dad watched me walk down the stairs behind mum and whistled softly — “you’re turning into a head turner, you look a lot like your mum at 18 — and she was voted the best looking girl in the Upper 6th. Which is the reason I married her — pure and simple — eye candy. Trophy wife, kiss me” He ordered and she obeyed..

“I know you guys get up to stuff, but it’s not good for your kids to see it.” Mum poked her tongue at me and dad cocked a snook. “Then don’t look,” was the rejoinder.

I looked into the garden instead.

“What’s the wine for sweetie?” mum asked after the smoochies were over.

“Nothing much, just a pay rise at work. Goes with the promotion” Mum looked at him, her eyes flashing, “you got the manager’s job? Oh that’s wonderful” she almost jumped up and down.

“Look darling there’s a problem attached to it though, we may have to move next year since the office is amalgamating with the city — they’ve offered me manager of a city office if we have to move after Christmas.” Dad’s face was worried, he didn’t want mum to have to move, she was happy to be here and she loved her life on the coast. You mean the Liverpool office? Or the Manchester one?”

“This is where it gets complicated, I said A city. I’m not sure yet, there’s talk of me being sent to open a new office in Brisbane…” he hung his head, “I have to take you guys with us and because we’re opening a new factory complete, I get to be head honcho, Australian Division.”

Mum looked a bit angry, “You’ve already accepted haven’t you?” Dad looked at mum and wanted to say nothing — he bit his lip. “Provisionally yes”

“Let me get this right, it looks like we get moved half way round the world so you get to do your job, what guarantees do you get that you won’t be dumped once it’s up and running and we have to come back to UK to find another job for both of us.” Mum’s eyes flashed with suppressed tears. “Oh John, why couldn’t you have discussed this with me, with us? We’re part of this decision too you know.”

There was a sort of turgid silence, while everyone looked into their minds about the future and what it could mean.

Dad looked at me, “how do you feel about it Jenny?” he looked at me as if pleading for support.

“I don’t know, I guess it means I’ll be able to start my life again without anyone knowing me, but what if someone gets to know over there, the men over there are a bit renowned for being very Macho aren’t they?” I played the ball neatly back into Dad’s court.

Mum had sat down nursing her glass of wine. She looked decidedly neutral — and very small, like someone had deflated her. A key entering the front door heralded the return of Nigel and we all looked up at him guiltily as he entered the room.

“Jesus, did someone die?” the question nearly dieing on his lips as he spoke.

“Come in and sit for a minute Nigel, we’re discussing our future and it’s important for you as well.”

“What are you talking about, is someone ill?” Nigel looked from one face to another as if he could read the news from our expressions.

“Your father has just proudly announced that we’re going to move to Australia next Spring. I think he meant to mention it at Christmas lunch, but the news escaped 6 months early.” Mum’s pithy comments earned her an exasperated look from dad.

“Actually its only on the drawing board and I’ve been offered the position and I expressed keen interest, nothing is cut and dried. I told Philip that I would discuss it with my family as it was not something I could make a decision on alone. I haven’t had a chance to explain the circumstances yet, everyone is jumping to conclusions.”

Dad looked over at mum as if to say ‘there, I did the right thing’.

Mum looked contrite, “Sorry Pet, I thought you’d dropped us in it without our knowing anything about it. It was just so sudden. When do you have to let Philip know by?” Mum retracked the conversation to the last point of order and hoped the blow up would blow over.

“Friday would be good — end of next week would be pushing it, there’s not much to discuss really, everything is being paid for and I have a contract that is pretty ironclad for 7 years and a buyout clause if I want to move on or if they want me to move on.”

Dad reached for the briefcase sitting on the table and retrieved a folder from it — it was an inch thick and bound in a snazzy cover. Placing it on the table, he placed his hand on it, “You’re all welcome to look and read, but not allowed to talk about it outside this house, is that clear? There’s a few people who are going to be disappointed by being left out and they’ll not be best pleased to get the news second hand.” An obvious warning which made us all realise this was a big fish dad had caught.

He opened the file and removed the front page — “Um that’s my offer, only Mum and I get to read that,” he handed it to mum and her eyes tracked down the page, going saucer shaped (and nearly saucer sized) once or twice. Looking up at John she spoke softly, “so much money, they must think the world of you.” Dad looked suitably embarrassed.

“Well it’s a good pay rise, that’s why I thought you’d be pleased, instead I got the third degree.” Mum looked suitably embarrassed.

Nigel to this point had been leaning against the door jamb. He didn’t seem very interested and his eyes had settled on me. He didn’t look derisive and he spoke absently about going to university. “Where am I going to be in all this, I need to book my university place and stuff. My A level results come out next week and I want to get an English Degree not some colonial college degree that isn’t worth diddly squat.”

“You can stay here if you want, it’s up to you, but you’ll have to let us know by next week if you intend to stay as we’ll need to set you up at Gran’s place. IF and that’s a BIG IF, they will put up with you. You’re still not what I would call responsible.” Dad’s tough remarks slid over Nigel like he hadn’t heard. As long as he’s going to get fed, he’s probably not going to worry one way or the other.

“You’re looking good Jenny, nice bum,” Nigel levered himself off the door jamb and started to turn away.

“Would you recognise me if you saw me again?” I sounded a bit shrill, but I was slightly annoyed that I hadn’t seen him look me in the eye once. He turned laconically back and looked me in the eye. His face was a picture. I’ve always poo pooed the idea of a jaw dropping, but it almost had. His eyelids had definitely lifted a few millimetres to let in a little more light. “My God, you really look quite nice.” Praise indeed from his majesty.

He walked over towards me and really looked at me — “You are a girl aren’t you? I know I said I accepted you before and I didn’t recognise you in the pool, but it didn’t sink in properly. I am totally flummoxed in what to say. I can’t say you’re a babe, you’re my sister, but that’s it isn’t it? You ARE my sister.” He smiled then a rare smile of brotherly love and appreciation of part of his family. Putting his arm round my shoulder he spoke quietly. “Seeing as you are my sister, I offer you my arm in love and if someone hurts you, they’ll answer to me, is that acceptable?”

I blushed crimson and since he was so close — as close as he’d ever been to me in his entire life, I kissed his cheek and smiled at him as he grimaced, “yes Nigel that is very acceptable.”

I sat and contemplated that remarkable occurrence as Nigel retired to his room to change.

Dad mumbled something about “perhaps he is growing up after all”.

“Kids, supper’s on the table,” I hadn’t noticed — but the smell of BBQed steak had been entering my nose for a minute or two, I grabbed what was left of my wine and walked through to the kitchen.

I woke the next morning a little thick headed as we had opened more wine last night and I’d had at least another glass. I hoped it wouldn’t affect the blood test. The upshot had been that in consideration of the enormous benefit to Dad’s position and the fact we had few ties in UK ( my dad’s mum and dad were no longer with us and Mum’s parents spent most of the time travelling so weren’t home much) unless we could find real nasties to deter us, we were destined to become Boomerang Throwers and Wobble Board players.

There were no real cousins (even though David the sailor boy was convinced otherwise) and with Dad working so hard he hadn’t much of a social life — no we could find little to tie us to dear old Blighty.

This brought up a dilemma for me. If I could get my surgery over with by the New Year, I would be able to go to Australia as a fully fledged female. The impending move had put my transition, such as it was, into high gear.

That morning was a kind of blur of high speed decisions and consultations as the doctor wanted to give me the once over and the counsellor needed to assess me for my surgery letters if I was to get onto a schedule for surgery in the near future.

There were only a few doctors available in Europe that could do a decent job and I had been given the address of one in Holland and one in Belgium, the ones in UK were pretty much booked up and needed 3 years to get up to speed with each patient.

Julie had done her research well — I also needed a psychiatrist to give me a second opinion — which sounded really daft as I had a genetic disease that made me like this — but since I had the choice of living as a man or a woman, I had to see a psych to make sure that the decision I made was the right one as far as they were concerned.

We dropped the film off at the Kodak shop and went to see if the local salon could fit me in for a quick cut wash and blow dry. They could, I did and since it wasn’t my mum’s regular salon they didn’t even ask how she ended up with a daughter. I had taken a picture of Karen Carpenter in with me and they cut it to match as far as they could — the girl who cut it was really sweet.

“You could be her sister, can you sing as well?”

“Er no actually — I can barely rough out ‘happy birthday’ on a good day, but thanks for asking.”

“You should try — you might be a natural and you could sing a duet with her for a laugh”. She giggled a bit and I wondered if all hairdressers were partially suffocated and addled by the chemicals in the shop.

Karaoke hadn’t hit the scene but if it had, I would be penalised for being a professional I guess. But she did make me feel good and the cut was remarkably accurate so she knew what she was doing.

I felt great while she was massaging the conditioner into my head, I could see why so many women liked the pampering. The smell in the salon was awful, like the bottom of my gran’s handbag, when I asked mum if they all smelled like that, she told me that most of them do since they use the same chemicals but some are better ventilated.

One thing that really put me off was the smell of perm solution. I saw one of the stylists slopping solution onto this lady’s hair that was in rollers the smell hit me, “What is that smell?”

Mum who was reading a magazine that was only three weeks old (I suppose the doctor’s surgery get them only when they reached two years old) said with a grin, “weak hair remover, it softens the hair enough to take a curl and they wash it out just before the hair falls out.” She shook her head. “Which is why I will never have curly hair — I hate the idea.” Mum’s hair was akin to a cross between a coconut and a pageboy and about shoulder length. Mine was wavy naturally like Dad’s mum. We shot out the door eventually, gasping. I felt like a Morlock released into the day from the dark caves. Though I guess I looked a little more attractive.

Oddly the effect seemed to be that I had gained more confidence — though my confidence hadn’t really been an issue up to now anyway. I know I was heading for the most testing interview of my new life, but I seemed to ride the situation like a free fall parachutist, I came down quite quickly (no pun intended) as I realised the earth was now shooting up to meet me.

We looked through the photos as we sat waiting in Julie’s anteroom. There was no one picture that showed who I was so few weeks ago.

“The doctor will see you now,” made us both look up from the squares of colour, I turned to mum and smiled a little awkwardly — she looked at me and drew a smile on, though I could see she was as nervous as I. She patted my hand as we rose as if to give comfort — I’m not sure to whom.

Julie’s bright smile of welcome as we entered calmed my fears slightly — I had no reason to fear anything but bridges seemed to be burnt every time I entered this office and each bridge was bigger and more complex than the last.

“How lovely to see you both again, Beth, Jenny. Please take a pew and let’s see what we can sort through today.”

Mum opened her bag and took out the photos she had just put there and passed them across to Julie then sat next to me placing her bag across her knees and placing her hands over the top like some prim old maid. The tension in her body showed just in those few actions; she would have put the bag on the floor and sat with her hands in her lap if she’d been calm.

Julie opened the envelope and took out the photos — leafing through them one by one — spending a few seconds on each. Her smile showed her approval and in some cases the smile became a grin. When she looked up her eyes were twinkling in pleasure.

“These are wonderful, they are almost candid and show a very relaxed young lady with an admirable sense of self. I’m not looking at the poses, but the attitude of the body language and the facial expression. Not only that, your physical progress is remarkable. How do you feel about that?”

“I feel less vulnerable to hate crime, but I feel less capable of warding off anyone who might commit one.” It was a conundrum I was actually quite aware of, being less noticeable as a transitioner was great but the closer I became to being fully female, the weaker I would become and it would be more easy to hurt me.

“Swings and roundabouts I’m afraid Jenny, there is no way of being both male and female and not be left with a foot in both camps.” Julie stated the obvious and made a note in my folder.

Mum piped up, “Julie I have what may be good and may be bad news and may even affect the next few months,” Julie looked up quizzically. “John has been posted overseas… Australia. I think we need to discuss what we can do before we go over there — I’d like Jenny to be in a better position to integrate back into the school routine without anyone knowing about her past…” mum looked up suddenly from her dazed rambling to see Julie smiling at me and watching my expression change as mum went through her mentally prepared speech.

Julie sat back and closed the folder in front of her, “are you having a problem accepting that Jenny is already more than able to integrate into a co-ed school as a female?” Her expression was bland and friendly, but concerned; as it was evident that she was worried about mum’s ability to cope with the stresses that were now coming to bear on the family.

“No it’s not that, I’m worried about her ability to pass naked. And the fact that we may be in Australia as immigrants and I’d really love it if Jenny had her op before she went,” mum was trying to get it all out before she drew a breath — more worried about the ability for Julie to deny her daughter natural justice.

“Beth, please, stop worrying.” Julie would have put her hand out to comfort mum if she’d been close enough — as it was, she just smiled and put her hand out in mum’s direction flat on the desk — it seemed to have the same effect. Mum took a deep breath and placed her handbag on the floor beside her — barricade removed.

“How do you feel about this?” Julie looked at me poker faced — she didn’t want to give me one inkling of how she felt about it herself.

“I feel that the question is not if, but how soon? There’s no doubt that it’s GOT to happen before I go, and the sooner the better, I’m just hoping that I have the mental stamina to keep going long enough to complete the course — We’re really not in that much of a hurry, but I need to have the op sooner than the end of the year, or at least not long after since I will probably be starting school in Australia in their winter term.”

I looked at Julie as I spoke — her face neither egging me on or becoming negative. When I finished, she picked up her pen and twiddled it in her finger briefly as she thought about her response. For some reason my eye was drawn to the pen and not her face — when I looked back to her she was smiling.

“Well it’s not a problem from my point of view, nothing you have said to me gives me the slightest doubt that you are ready to have vaginoplasty. My biggest problem is the surgeon — since there is very little in the way of options — there just aren’t many surgeons doing the op in UK.” She watched my face for a moment and looked at mum. Mine had fallen, fallen as far as I thought it could. I was suddenly despondent

“Beth, you have to understand that while I can give permission, there have to be others in the circle that also have their agendas.” She looked apologetic. Mum looked ecstatic. I just looked more worried.

Mum picked up her bag again and reached for a letter she had placed there earlier.

“Thank you so much Julie, I wasn’t going to mention this to Jenny until you had given your consent, so I feel that now is a good time to show this to both of you.” She passed the letter over to me first. I opened it looking at the Swiss postmark with curiosity — then as I read it dawned on me what had happened — Dad had already written to the surgeon in Zurich. My eyes opened wider and wider as I read. Then the writing blurred as the tears flooded my eyes The first of my sobs stopped me altogether and mum put her arm round me and gently retrieved the letter and hugged me — passing the letter to Julie.

I recovered in a minute or two and Julie had already replaced the letter in the envelope and popped it into the folder. “I’ll write to the surgeon this afternoon and with Jenny’s case notes, pass the letter on to the doctor for his endorsement — I can see no problem with the 20th December as a date for surgery — I shall need to see Jenny once a month till then, to check she’s coping. It also gives us time to iron out any doubts or problems. Excellent — I’m so glad this was possible Beth, it is sometimes so hard to see the young ones thrown up on the rocks of a system that doesn’t seem to care.”

I was still coming to terms with the fact that Julie was ok with my having the op and here I was already with a date for it. I rose dazed and when Julie came round the desk to shake my hand I just stepped forward and gave her a huge hug. “Thanks Julie, you’re fantastic, I don’t have any doubts and I think you know that.”

Julie put her arms round me and returned my hug, “I know you have no doubts about who you are dear, but things do crop up and you may find one or two roadblocks further down the path.”

I was back in the car before I came round, mum had just sat and waited for me to recover my wits before she drove. “I hope I didn’t shock you too much, it was all a bit sudden. When dad had been offered the position in Australia he immediately wrote to Zurich where we had found a surgeon who has done some highly recommended work — and asked him for a date — which fell in rather well, I think, with the timing — you get to go to Zurich as if you’re on a ski holiday and then you can limp a bit back in school and say you fell over in the snow.” She laughed a mite nervously at that — thinking of the operation.

My eyes were glistening once again, but only in joy. I couldn’t really work out the source of the feelings in my head, but I felt so real and so at peace, like a fluorescent light starter that had been buzzing in my head had suddenly been fixed. Total silence. It was deafening.

“Put your seat belt on petal, lets get home,” mum started the car and backed out of the parking bay. “We’ll go see the doctor in a couple of days when he has the letter from Julie.”

That night I spent in a daze, I gave dad the hugest hugs every time he passed me — he had made me so unbelievably joyous. Happy didn’t come near it, it was like I’d won the Lotto. He explained that he’d sat down with a notepad and written down all the things that needed to be done before we moved — and then prioritised them — and number one came out to be family — and at the top of the list was my op. He’d not told his boss about me but he’d said it was important that his family had to come first in such a big move. The boss agreed, so the first thing he’d done was to write to Zurich.

I sat back and enjoyed the silence in my head for several days, even the doctors visit was a bit of a blur.

I got the usual physical — plus a very uncomfortable prostate exam. I was declared sterile at that point — I should hope so — I had been without my bits for some time! He declared me healthy for surgery but would like me to attend about the same intervals as Julie’s appointments. He advised me that I should avoid Gym when I returned to school if I had to use communal showers as my penis was still evident, too evident for the girl’s change room anyway! He signed me a chit to the effect that I have a heart condition and should be excused exercise that might excite me too much. It was a white lie I suppose, and unlikely to do me harm over a single term at school. I was probably not ever going to be much of an athlete so I wasn’t terribly upset and the thought of trying to play field hockey with a load of girls was a bit daunting — I really need to do some learning about group female psyche before I start playing team sports.

He also took some snaps of my present “setup”, both standing and lying down with my legs spread for the surgeon in Zurich to have a look at. He frowned a lot, but was generally quite good about the whole thing — since it was obviously not a sex change so much as a correction.
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 3
 
 
To Be Continued...