I work in the central office of a large Supermarket Company and mostly my colleagues are girls with the exception of two of us males.

The Office Manager used to be a man but he was made redundant when a new Managing Director was appointed who came in to improve operations and efficiencies and reduce the number of staff. Until that time I’d been the second in command in the office and was lined up to take over from my boss Mr Edwards when he retired. He left after a big argument because one of the younger girls was promoted above me into his position and he did not think that she was qualified for the job.

I had a University Degree whereas she had left school early and had worked her way up through one of the Supermarket stores about 20 miles away so she did have good knowledge of customer requirements. I didn’t argue much since I was always quiet and even though I was 27 years of age I still lived at home with mum.

Jessica who took charge was six months younger than me and shared a flat with two other girls so she was independent and confident and bossed her flatmates around. I’d been out with them on a number of occasions and was attracted to Sally who was very friendly and similar personality to me so we chatted a lot. Her other flatmate was a tall girl who was very friendly with Jessica. She is called Mary-Jo.

After Jessica took charge I found that my job changed as she introduced new procedures and I had less supplier and customer contact since she said that I was too nice and didn’t negotiate hard enough. She made me work with Anne who was quick and very smart and gradually my job deteriorated to making reports and filing and sometimes typing up proposals. I was not allowed to sign anything even if the ideas were mine and when suppliers visited I attended the meetings but mainly I sorted out the coffees and kept notes. I was feeling a little frustrated but I seemed to be trapped in this job as the business climate was poor and not many job vacancies about.

Then one Monday morning I was in the lift when the new Managing Director came rushing in. I’d held the door open for her because her arms were full. She dropped some papers and I quickly gathered them up and she smiled and thanked me. She asked me to help her so I carried one of her bags and a file of loose papers to her office on the top floor. I remember that she asked me my name and eventually I managed to mumble Chris. ‘Well thank you Christine I very much appreciate it’. I was dumbstruck and daren’t say anything. Why did she call me Christine?

On my way downstairs I called in the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. It was true that I do have very soft facial features with slight dimples in my cheeks and no sign of a beard. My hair is cut in a long style but not too long. My eyelashes are long and I do have thin brows but it wasn’t like I had make-up or anything? Did she do this on purpose?

I was wearing some black trousers and a mauve sweater that mum likes and silver cross on a chain that Gran gave me for twenty-first birthday that had fallen outside my sweater when I stooped to pick up the papers. I guess the worst thing was my man boobs because whilst I’m not particularly overweight they are obvious and I do get a lot of teasing in the office about needing to wear a bra.

I shook my head and then I smiled because I really did like that she’d called me Christine and often when alone at home I’d accentuated my feminine appearance and tried on my sisters clothes. She’d left a lot behind when she had taken an assignment in Hong Kong so I had her full wardrobe to play with.

I brushed my hair and went to my desk and carried on with my duties and nothing more happened until the afternoon when Jessica came up to me smiling and said she’d been with the boss and asked about ‘Christine’. She’d laughed and told Ms Harper her mistake who found it equally amusing. But after that the name stuck so all around the building I was known as Christine Taylor.

I started to respond to it and grew in confidence and my relationships in the office developed. I was treated equally and everybody chatted openly about all sorts of things without considering that I was actually male.

I was invited to a Hen night in Birmingham with all of them and asked if I’d try to be a little more feminine for the weekend. I was quite exited and accepted. I packed a case using clothes and underwear from my sisters room and put on a pair of her jeans and a bra and top that fitted me perfectly. Mum was away at an aunts for the week so on the Thursday evening I’d showered and removed what small amounts of body hair I had and brushed my hair until it shone. In the past few weeks I’d let it gow even more so I could style it using my sisters tongs that I put in the case.

So I left the house to go to meet my colleagues on the Saturday morning as Christine. The taxi driver never questioned me so I was confident that the weekend would be a big success.

Jules