“I wonder what St Margaret’s will be like,” I was thinking out loud.

“According to Jane, she’s the nicest one at Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts!” I squealed and giggled.

“Yeah, apparently they call the PE teacher, Hagrid and the headmistress is Voldemort,” he laughed.

Charlotte’s Tale .
by Angharad.
Part 12.

Things seemed to be improving, I felt more energy and wasn’t quite so given to moping about the house sucking my thumb. There were still reminders of my dad everywhere, but the rawness that I’d felt when seeing them, had eased. Mum seemed to be happier too.

I was still doing my home schooling with the tutor, and seemed to be doing alright. Certainly, I had improved in several subjects because she had the time to encourage me to do more or better and then praised me for it when I did. I was going to find regular schooling quite an issue when it happened again. Thankfully, I had the last few weeks of the summer term to continue at home, then the summer holidays, and finally I was I going to be dropped in at the deep end at St Margaret’s.

I hadn’t been in school with girls since junior school, so had forgotten what it was like. I knew they had reputations for high academic achievement, which might pose a challenge, as might games, but otherwise I thought I’d give it a go — not that I had much choice. I couldn’t go back to the ‘Thug’s Academy’ I’d just left, so St Margaret’s was the only viable option. Had I remained a boy, I don’t know quite what I’d have done.

I day dreamed as I stood looking down the garden at next door’s cat stalking a bird. The bird had seen it and wasn’t playing, so ‘Tiddles’ had stopped to wash pretending he wasn’t hunting and so on. It was quite funny as long as the bird stayed aware of the danger.

I suddenly saw a sort of relevance to me. Provided I was aware that I could be discovered, until I get some sort of surgery to remove my boy bits, I can minimise the risk of them being discovered. Things like overconfidence could be my downfall, that and betrayal by someone like Jane.

I didn’t honestly think she’d do so deliberately, but Jane always seemed to have the ability to catch me when I least expected it, like so called ‘friendly fire’. I read somewhere that a good friend makes a very bad enemy. It was food for thought and I would have to make sure she never got to that position, she knew too much. Goodness, isn’t life complicated?

Personally, I couldn’t see myself falling out with her, but that wouldn’t necessarily stop her falling out with me. That was worrying. I shrugged my shoulders and went back to my schoolbooks.

After tea Simon rang and we spent an hour talking about nothing, then he mentioned Fart Face.

“Bumped into Old F.F., he gave me a filthy look and walked past me. I was so tempted to say something, you know, be extra polite or something.”

“Oh don’t Simon, he could make life so hard for you.”

“Yeah I didn’t, but the temptation was sooooooooooo big.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. Mum says if he does start picking on you to keep a note of it in as much detail as you can.”

“Sounds like hard work, dunno if I could be bothered.”

“She says that it’s the only way you can prove victimisation and for that he can be censured, whatever that means.”

“They slap his wrist, I think it means.”

“Oh! I’d have thought it was more than that, but anyway, do that and if you have witnesses, get their names and if possible to sign your account afterwards.”

“Jeez Charlotte, that’s a lot of work for a slapped wrist.”

“Yeah but it’s his wrist not yours. The alternative is to get Jane to poison him.”

“You’ve tried her cooking then?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said blushing furiously, she was quite proud of her cooking skills, they were better than mine.

“Are you implying my sister is capable of murder?” I could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t do anything like that, I might not live long enough to regret it,” I joked back.

“I think you could guarantee it, she’s got a longer memory than most psychopaths I know.”

“How many do you know then?”

“I go to school with over six hundred of them, and that doesn’t include the teachers.”

“I wonder what St Margaret’s will be like,” I was thinking out loud.

“According to Jane, she’s the nicest one at Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts!” I squealed and giggled.

“Yeah, apparently they call the PE teacher, Hagrid and the headmistress is Voldemort,” he laughed.

“You are encouraging me so much,” I said wondering if I had gone from the proverbial into the fire. I had met the headmistress, Mrs Edmonds, and she didn’t seem that bad. Maybe we were all on our best behaviour, and I was sort of going there with special needs concerning my gender thing. Oh dear, my tummy was churning.

“Nah, you’ll be alright, they’re all a bit strange, so you should fit in perfectly.”

Simon could be a wicked tease and unfortunately my pouting was lost on a phone call. “Oh Simon, don’t be like that.”

“Oh alright then. I have to go, Mum’s calling me for tea and I’ve got some revision to do.”

“Oh okay, I’d better let you go then.” The official goodbye took another ten minutes or so, but we are teenagers.

I went downstairs and my mother was doing some Quorn sausages for my tea. They tasted pretty much like the meat ones, so I didn’t miss anything this time. I gave her a special hug and cleared up the dishes as a thank you.

Tomorrow I had another practice, we’d missed a couple, Miss Daws had had a summer cold and didn’t want to give it to me. I appreciated her thoughtfulness and asked Mum if we could buy her some flowers. I knew I was pushing at an open door, so I wasn’t surprised by her enthusiastic agreement.

Dyeing my hair was a bit of a pain however, plus we didn’t know what it would do to my hair long term, so tomorrow I would be going with it in natural mode. They’d probably all think I’d bleached it anyway, the fact that it was so long compared to my schoolboy days, plus the makeup and the breast forms, should give me enough disguise. After all, I’d spent plenty of time trawling around the town centre with either my mum or Jane and no one had recognised me as far as I knew, except that first time when Simon had seen me in the local department store. Phew! I wouldn’t want that to happen again.

I went to bed about ten and read for a little while. Jane Austen isn’t entirely my cup of tea, but my mother reckons every girl should read, ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and ‘Rebecca’. I’ve seen the films of both and not sure I agree. She also has me down to read ‘Jane Eyre’, but from what I’ve heard of Charlotte Bronte, she was a bit strange to say the least, although I like her first name.

Mum was telling me that a hundred years or more ago, London used to stink so much in the summer, that people would escape to the countryside. Some of them would see places like Bath as being almost rural, although the London they knew was much smaller than it is today. I suppose we should be grateful for the Victorians and their sewers. Fancy having to do your business in a potty and then chuck it out the window. I don’t fancy it one bit, yuck.

I dreamt I was back in Victorian days and my dad was trying to marry me off to one of several suitors. Simon was one of them but he was also the poorest, so Daddy wasn’t too keen on him, even though he was the one I fancied.

I had to wear ankle length skirts and corsets, they were horrible. If I hurried to do anything I couldn’t breathe, nor could I eat very much the corset stopped me. The boots I had to wear buttoned up on the sides and one of the servants had to use some sort of hook to close them. I felt really sorry for our maid, she worked really hard for the pittance we paid her, so I used to give her things like my old clothes.

I woke up needing to go to the loo, and thinking to myself that giving someone my old clothes was pretty mean, until I recalled something I did in history, and back in Jane Austen’s time, lots of poor people didn’t have more than a single change of clothes. I have a wardrobe full to bursting, how times have changed.

I then woke up having a nasty dream about being recognised at the school by Watson, who still fancied me and wouldn’t go away even though he knew my real identity. “Always knew you were a bit girly, now you’ve proved it. So Astley likes girly boys does he?”

“I suppose you must too if you keep following me around. All this is your fault you big gorilla,” I shouted and started hitting him. Whereas before he had known what to do in beating me up, by being a girl, he wasn’t at all sure and was going red in the face as I maintained my onslaught. I woke up when one of my slaps knocked the lamp off my bedside table.

The next morning I had a nice bruise on the back of my left hand. After breakfast I told mum, I wasn’t going to dye my hair for practice.

“If you think you won’t be recognised, it’s okay with me.”

I had looked at myself in the mirror that morning, standing totally naked and there was no sign of boy anywhere, except the hidden bits, which were glued up inside. My waist was thin and my hips were growing, from behind, I had a nice behind, a bit small but I was underweight at the moment. My chest was underdeveloped because I had lost weight, but my breasts were there okay with prominent nipples and the dark bit around ‘em, can’t remember what it’s called.

My face has changed a bit too, got thinner making my cheekbones more prominent and with some makeup no one is going to see James Church anywhere, he just no longer exists except in one or two people’s memories.

“What did you do to your hand,” my mother had noticed the bruise.

“Bumped it going to bed.”

“What are we going to do with you?”

“Give me the money for Miss Daw’s flowers?” I smiled.

“I asked for that,” said my mother reaching for her purse.

“You did agree Mummy.”

“I know, look we need to do some supermarket shopping, so how about this afternoon we do that and get Miss Daws either some flowers or a pot plant, and I’ll drop you off at school.”

I was going to say that I could be recognised then, but when I thought about it, Mum was at the concert, we go shopping together and do other things together so if people were going to recognise us, surely they’d have done it by now? With my luck probably not, but I can’t let it dominate my whole existence. After all, the rumours that abounded when I left were that I’d had a sex change, so let them wonder, I don’t care.

I helped Mummy clean all the windows, which in our house takes all morning to do inside and out. Then she took several curtains down and washed them, again I did the taking down and put up the spare ones. There is so much work involved in a house, maybe I don’t want to be someone’s wife. Then I thought of Simon, and vacillated somewhat.

After lunch, we went to the supermarket. It’s a huge place with food and stuff on one side and clothes and cameras and mobile phones ‘n things on the other. I bought some more tights and saw a cotton dress I had to have. I had to work for it though.

I got Mummy to allow me to try it on. It was really yummy, a halter neck and frill around the hem at the bottom. The pattern was sunflowers, big and small ones on a light green background. It was only fifteen pounds so I could have bought it myself, but I wanted some sandals too and they had some nice white ones with a three inch wedge heel.

“I think you’ve got enough clothes at the moment Charlotte.”

“But Muuuuuuum, I don’t have any sun dresses.”

“You have skirts and tops.”

“Yeah Mummy but this dress is just soooo comfortable.” I batted my eyelashes at her and she narrowed her eyes back, knowing she’d been conned.

“If you get me the dress, I’ll buy my own sandals,” I ventured knowing I was going to buy them anyway because she wouldn’t allow me to have a three inch heel except for formal wear.

“One of these days, you are going to push your luck too far, Charlotte Church.”

Some woman who was walking past glanced round so quickly, I’m surprised she didn’t dislocate her neck. Satisfied I wasn’t the Charlotte Church, she went on her way.

I bought the sandals and I think surprised Mummy by being able to walk in them, they were quite comfortable seeing as they weren’t that expensive. My sports ones, which are brilliant, cost twice as much as these and I can walk miles in them but they aren’t really suitable to wear anywhere posh.

We went for a cuppa and a cake before I went off to my singing practice. The cafeteria was really busy and we were lucky to get a table. I was chatting with Mum about the pot plant we’d got for Miss Daws which I thought she would like, a big begonia thing full of bright yellow flowers, when a mother and daughter asked if they could share our table.

As we’d only just started our teas, we had to say yes and put up with it. They had similar fare to us.

“You from round here then?” asked the woman.

“Yes,” said my mum, “ we live on the west side, in Whitechurch.”

“That’s just down from us,” said the girl, “we only moved here a fortnight ago. We live in Newchurch.” These were villages on the outskirts of town, Whitechurch was older than Newchurch and tended to be bigger houses, the latter being mostly a new estate. Mind you our house was one of the newest in our village, as I said, Dad had designed it and oversaw the building of it. It was probably the best house in the area.

“So, do you like go to school around here?” asked the new girl.

“I’m going to St Margaret’s in September,” I said feeling embarrassed.

“I am too, how old are you?”

“Nearly fourteen,” I said blushing.

“Gosh, I’m thirteen, maybe we’ll be in like, the same class?”

“Dunno,” I offered, “s’pose we’ll have to like wait ‘n see.”

“That would be nice for you Hailey, you’d have someone you know,” said her mother.

“Yes, that would be like, good. Why don’t you come round to our place some time?”

My mother decided to enter the conversation, “If you’ve just moved in, why don’t you come round to us one afternoon and have some tea?”

“That’s very kind of you,” said the other woman.

Then they got to introducing each other, and I discovered Hailey’s surname was Burston. They seemed okay, so when they agreed a date for the day after tomorrow, I was a bit alarmed.

“But Mummy, I may have practice.” I said with a degree of urgency in my voice.

“You won’t know until tonight, so don’t worry.”

“What do you have to practice?” asked Hailey.

“Singing, I’m singing in a concert next week.”

“Oh wow, like another Charlotte Church!”

“Yeah, I am another Charlotte Church only I sing under another name so as not to cause confusion.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Not really, but I use the name Christine when I perform. It’s my middle name.”

“CCC, sounds like a county council.”

“Yeah, my parents like didn’t have much imagination!” I said tongue in cheek and got the required glower from my mother.

We went on to discuss the sort of music we liked, she was less catholic than I am, going for the Artic Monkeys and Spice Girls. I had just discovered my dad’s collection of Led Zeppelin, much to Mum’s annoyance. Hailey asked who they were, so I knew what we’d be listening to the day after tomorrow.

Was it good fortune that someone needed friendship as much as I did? I’d have to wait and see, but at least I had a chance to branch out a bit more, although I did wonder if it would get in the way of my seeing Simon. If I’d said anything to my mother, she’d have gone through the roof.

I noticed the time and we had to go or I’d be late again!.