“That bloody cat!” it took Penny a few moments to remember that she no longer owned a cat, and what she had taken for purring, was Stevie very softly snoring in the bed beside her. Neatly sidestepping all her position’s inherent dangers, Penny slipped back under the duvet. Once again she marvelled at how peacefully the younger woman slept, smiling over her slightly protruding bottom lip. Looking at her went some way to calming Penny’s conscience, but there was much left to do.
No one had shared Penny’s bed for years, and there was a pleasure she would not deny herself. Tentatively she brushed the back of her fingers across her bedfellow’s cheek until Stevie’s eyelids began to flutter open. “Did you argue with Reginald?” She was rewarded with a beautifully warm smile from the waking girl.

“He growled a few times,” Stevie rolled across the mattress to embrace Penny before the older woman could do anything to stop her, “you’re naked!”

“Don’t worry, we’re all girls here,” Penny kissed her on the cheek, “and I don’t think I have anything you haven’t seen before.”

“Not in real life,” Stevie demurred; she returned the kiss, “just in pictures like. It’s a bit funny really, everyone thinks I should have a sex change, but I don’t know anything about women’s bodies, except what I learnt in school.”

Penny hated giving ad hoc presentations, and would have preferred the chance to prepare a few PowerPoint slides; instead she found herself sat up in bed, legs apart, conducting a guided tour of her vagina. Fortunately Stevie did not attempt to touch the exhibit. “There’s a bit more to it than that, but do you think you’d like one?” Penny drew her knees together.

“I don’t know,” Stevie chewed a lock of her hair, “I love living as a girl, but I can always go back to being Steve; surgery seems so final.”

Penny smiled, the girl still would not leave Steve go, but she had seen a fascination in Stevie’s eyes a world away from her state of denial. “You’ve plenty of time to make that decision honey,” she stepped from the bed, turning to face her guest, “but it’ll make your knickers fit better, you’re almost falling out there.” Blushing furiously, Stevie pulled down her nightie, a sheepish smile spreading across her face as she rearranged herself.

“Doesn’t it hurt to tuck yourself away like that all day?” Penny asked.

“Sometimes, but I wouldn’t be right if I didn’t.” Stevie blushed again.

Penny bit her tongue, if Stevie could not yet see the significance of her statement, it would not help to point it out. Wrapping a dressing gown tightly around her body, Penny promised coffee, and breakfast in bed. “Switch the radio on; change the channel if you like, I keep it on the local station for traffic reports.”

Stevie was almost white when Penny returned with a tray, she had the duvet pulled up to her chin and was sucking on the end. Something had alarmed her, but what that was did not become apparent until the commercial finished, and the presenter nasal mockney drawl returned.

“Good morning, you’re listening to Gryphon FM’s Sunday morning line. This week’s hot topic in town is about a blog belonging to a local transsexual, and we’d like to hear your views. Should Stevie stay a girl, what do you think? We have a caller, Ashley you’re on line one.”

“Hello am I on?” the presenter assured she was, “Stevie came into the store I work in yesterday, and she’s beautiful. She should so be a girl.”

“And what was she buying Ashley?”

“Oh clothes, lots of clothes. Can I say hello to my mum?”

“Well she sounds like a woman to me,” the presenter laughed, “OK, we have Phil on line two, what do you think, should Stevie stay a girl?”

“He’s a bloke, I work with him and it’s just sick the way everyone’s behaving. If he tries it on with me again, I’ll kick his fu...”

“Well that’s all we want to hear from Phil. This is Dave Watney on Gryphon FM, and I’ll be back after this break.” An advert for a local tyre fitter blared from the radio, as Stevie turned to Penny, her face ashen.

“I didn’t honest,” she was close to tears, “all I did was say ‘hello’”

“Of course you didn’t,” Penny wound an arm around her shoulders, “he’s the one with problems not you.” Just how large a problem Penny had not decided yet; she had pencilled in a compulsory course of counselling for all the post room smokers, but that was before Phil’s outburst. Someone was lined up for an arse kicking, and it was not Stevie.

“Hello Edna, you’re through to the Sunday morning line.”

“Hello Dave, ignore that last caller; I work with Stevie too, and she’s an absolute angel,” Penny squeezed Stevie, sharing a smile over Mrs Green’s endorsement, “you can see me on her blog, the two of us are making coffee.”

“If you want to see that blog, the address is on our website... hello to Kyle on line two.”

“Respect Dave,” the caller’s accent was a peculiar Home Counties take on West Indian, “we saw her yesterday man, and Stevie is a babe, she is well fit. I would - know what I mean?” Stevie certainly did, and her face flushed crimson.

Sipping coffee, the two girls listened to the remaining callers, most of whom were encouraging; the exception being something of a God-botherer, who claimed it was not a suitable topic for discussion on the Sabbath.

“I think God made a mistake this time, all the evidence shows that Stevie should have been born a girl,” Dave answered, prompting a shocking display from Stevie who laughed so hard that coffee shot from her nose.

“Told you so,” Penny dabbed away at the quilt with a corner of her dressing gown, “now if you’ve finished, how about we take some photos of you in yesterday’s outfit, Miss I-look-too-slutty?”

“Are you ever wrong?” Stevie planted a very moist kiss on Penny’s cheek before she could reply.