“I’m sorry sir, but I’m not allowed to discuss that,” Sophie said as she poured the passenger his coffee. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

“Non, that will be all,” the middle-aged businessman replied in his refined Parisian accent. Sophie dutifully bobbed a curtsey and dragged her trolley back to the kitchen, where her supervisor was waiting with a sympathetic smile on her face.

“I couldn’t help but hear that, honey,” Annabelle said softly. “You got another one of those questions?”

“Yeah,” Sophie sighed. “I seem to be getting them more and more, it- it’s like they know.”

“I don’t see how, honey,” Annabelle said, earning a sad smile from her friend and colleague. “But would you really want them to know?”

“Well- I kinda do and I kinda don’t,” Sophie replied. “Obviously, it’d get me in a LOT of trouble if I told them, but I- I want to take credit for what I wrote, you know? Hell, there’s someone back in row L who’s actually reading the book!”

“That happens a lot more often on flights than you think,” Annabelle said quietly. “The management, they- they’re not happy about that at all, but they always say the customer is always right, and if the customer wants to read about us while they fly with us, well- they must be right, honey.”

“It’s almost like the book was one giant advert,” Sophie said, before letting out a tired chuckle. “And here I was lecturing Alana and Masson about the Streisand effect.”

“You were only doing what you thought was right, honey,” Annabelle reassured the young woman. “And the passengers wouldn’t be reading the book if they didn’t think it was true, right?”

“Well- I guess,” Sophie shrugged.

“And you certainly wouldn’t still be here if you were only in it for the money yourself, would you?” Annabelle asked, earning a wide grin from her friend.

“Definitely not,” Sophie replied, before sighing as the galley’s call light illuminated. “Oh well, duty calls!” Sophie forced her professional-looking smile onto her face as she pushed her trolley back out into the fuselage of the plane, but on the inside, she was feeling frustrated.

In the three months since the book’s release, it had become more and more popular, not just with British fliers, but throughout the whole of Europe. As time went on, interest in the book continued to rise, not just from the public, but from the press as well. Many requests for interviews had been extended… To Rachel, whose name was on the front cover instead of Sophie’s- or even James’s.

Sophie didn’t mind this, of course- it was what was agreed right at the start, when Sophie started writing the book- when Sophie first became ‘Sophie’. And she still received royalties from the book, and heard about how passengers enjoyed it… Anecdotes that she received second hand from her friends and colleagues, who unlike Sophie, were given shifts other than the London to Paris route- though even those shifts were becoming scarcer for the young woman. Despite Amelie and Francine intervening on her behalf, Sophie’s managers were still reluctant to trust her, meaning she only got the shifts that no one else wanted, or cover for holidays or sick leave, which always inevitably meant the Paris route.

“How may I help you, sir?” Sophie asked in her perfected professional feminine voice, even though Sophie herself felt the voice was simpering.

“Just a black coffee,” the passenger replied in a posh English accent, not even bothering to look at Sophie as he gave her his order. Please, Sophie thought to herself as she poured the gentleman his drink.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” Sophie asked.

“No, that will be all,” the passenger replied as Sophie placed the coffee on his tray. Before she was able to return to the galley, though, Sophie froze when she felt something brush past her nylon-clad knee, followed by the unmistakable feel of a hand gently gripping her thigh. Before she could react, the hand slowly made its way underneath her tight skirt, tickling the skin underneath her stocking top…

“Thank you, sir,” Sophie said in a rushed, nervous voice as she pulled away from the passenger’s unwanted grip before all but sprinting back to the galley with her trolley.

“Hey, slow down, honey!” Annabelle urged her colleague as she braced herself against the counter and tried to get her breath back. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” Sophie sighed. “That last customer, he- he stuck his hand up my skirt…”

“Ugh,” Annabelle spat. “Some guys don’t know how to treat- ugh.” The American woman paused as she gazed out into the cabin at the passenger that Sophie had just served.

“What- what is it?” Sophie asked.

“You just had a run-in with hands, honey,” Annabelle replied, smiling sympathetically as her friend frowned in confusion. “Alan ‘Hands’ Hopkins? You’ve never flown with him before?”

“I don’t think so,” Sophie replied.

“Well- you would know if you had,” Annabelle sighed. “As that just proved. He’s had his hands up more skirts than most gynaecologists, every time he’s on a flight- which thankfully, ain’t often.”

“Especially not when I fill out an unacceptable passenger behaviour form,” Sophie grumbled, before frowning as Annabelle let out a sarcastic snort of laughter. “…What?”

“Those are a complete waste of time,” Annabelle snorted. “His company’s got a huge contract with the airline, and management ain’t going to do anything that might jeopardise that.”

“Wish I’d heard of him before I finished the book,” Sophie snorted. “I’m guessing arranging something like what Rachel, Abbey and Tanisha did to that one guy that time wouldn’t help either?”

“Not unless you want to get yourself and everyone else in a lot of trouble,” Annabelle replied. “Alana can ignore UPB forms. She can’t ignore something like that, and we’re the ones who’d pay the price. Besides, I thought your parents- well, they weren’t happy about the whole ‘Sophie’ thing?”

“Well- no, not really,” Sophie replied, before sighing as the call light illuminated again.

“Want me to get that, honey?” Annabelle offered.

“No, I might as well,” Sophie replied. “One good thing about Paris flights- they don’t last long, heh.”

“True, I suppose,” Annabelle sighed as the brown-haired woman pushed her trolley back out into the cabin.

The flight landed a short while later, and at Annabelle’s insistence, Sophie remained in the galley as the passengers disembarked. On the flight back to London, Sophie was relieved to discover that ‘Hands’ wasn’t present on the flight, but she still took up Annabelle’s offer of staying in the galley for the majority of the flight. Nonetheless, when the flight landed, Sophie couldn’t wait to get out of her uniform- even though she was replacing it with a smart blouse and pencil skirt that were equally as form-fitting as the uniform.

Despite Annabelle’s advice, before she left the airport, Sophie logged on to the airline’s intranet and filled out the form reporting ‘Hands’s behaviour, though she had no doubt that the report would get conveniently lost, assuming it was even looked at at all.

“Good evening, Miss Connelly!” Amy said with a grin as Sophie walked through the front door, kicked off her uncomfortable heels and flopped down onto the sofa with a long, loud sigh. “I would ask if it was a good flight, but a) Paris, and b) well- that sigh.”

“Yep,” Sophie said. “Still, at least I now have five days free, heh. Even if it’s five days when I’m not earning any money.”

"Other than the royalties you get from your book?" Amy retorted.

"Which I won't get for another few months," Sophie sighed.

“I would say today calls for a traditional Team ASH night out, but we both kinda have flights tomorrow too,” Hayley said with a sympathetic smile.

“I could definitely use one of them, heh,” Sophie chuckled. “Assuming someone else pays, anyway. And where’s Rachel tonight?”

“Lu-“ Amy began, only to be interrupted by her flatmate.

“Don’t tell me,” Sophie sighed. “Lucas?”

“Those two are increasingly joined at the hip,” Amy chuckled. “face to fa-“

“Yes, yes, I inferred that,” Sophie said with a snort of laughter. “Where are you two off to tomorrow, anyway?”

“Dublin,” Amy replied.

“Rome,” Hayley said, grimacing as Sophie frowned.

“I miss both those cities, heh,” Sophie said with a sad chuckle.

“Seriously, Soph, just quit the job already,” Amy said with a sympathetic sigh. “You know you hate it there, you know things aren’t going to get better and you’ve got a career lined up and waiting for you. You. Not James, but you, the girly and gorgeous Sophie Connelly.”

“I’ve told you already, once I finish my second book, I’ll be out of there,” Sophie retorted. “Whether I like it or not…”

“Which you know you will,” Hayley said. “Can’t you hunt around for a publisher, like, now? Maybe show them some parts of the second book?”

“In theory, yes,” Sophie replied. “I’d just prefer to wait until it was completed, though.”

“I heard Joshua Benedict might be opening a publishing wing of Heavenly Talent soon,” Amy mused. “Might be worth getting your foot in there, everything I know about him tells me his biography would be a really interesting read, and you’d be perfect to write-“

“Yes, okay, thank you!” Sophie said, throwing her hands up in frustration at the conversation she’d had multiple times with her friends over the previous few months.

“…And of course, no matter where you work, Team ASH will always be- well, a team, right?” Hayley asked, earning a warm grin from both of her friends.

“Always,” Sophie and Amy replied simultaneously.

“Even when we’re all married with kids,” Sophie said confidently.

“Ooh, speaking of,” Amy said, “have you decided what you’re wearing for our double date on Thursday?”

“What’s this then?” Hayley asked in a teasing voice that caused Sophie’s cheeks to redden. “Have you two got a double date?”

“…It’s just a bit of fun,” Sophie replied.

“Who are the other couple you’ll be going out with, then?” Hayley asked, shrieking with laughter as both of the other women hurled cushions at her.

“Funny girl,” Amy said with a sarcastic snort. “It’s a couple of girls from the new intake earlier this month, if you must know. So yes, they’re cool with us being- well, ‘us.”

“Seemed like the only way to guarantee it,” Sophie said quietly, earning a sympathetic smile from her flatmate.

“Well- that’s a loss for all men around the world, heh!” Hayley chuckled, earning smiles from her friends. “Though you don’t know what you’re missing… Heh. That also goes for you two with each other, you know?”

“Oh- shut up,” Sophie moaned, before letting out a soft giggle. “Though thanks for taking my mind off today, I needed it, heh.”

“That bad, eh?” Hayley asked.

“Ever meet a customer called Alan Hopkins?” Sophie asked, sighing sadly as Amy reacted with a look of disgust.

“Ugh, hands?” Amy spat. “I thought he didn’t fly anymore?”

“Well, he flew today,” Sophie sighed. “And so did his hand, right up my skirt.”

“Eww!” Hayley sneered. “Kinda feel glad to be left out, for once.”

“I just wish I knew about him before finalising the book, heh,” Sophie sighed. “Still, at least 5 days off means 5 days with no hands, heh.”

“Unless you’re called in for holiday or sickness cover?” Amy asked, smirking as Sophie rolled her eyes.

“Thanks for THAT,” Sophie snorted.

“Oh- fine, be like that,” Amy said with a mock pout.

“Please, girls, let’s not have a lovers’ squabble,” Hayley teased, earning eye rolls from her flatmates. “Now kiss and make up!”

“Fuck off…” Amy snorted, before smirking and sliding onto the sofa next to Sophie.

“Wh- what the-“ Sophie protested, before being silenced as the ginger-haired girl leaned in and gave her a long, deep kiss, interspersed by fits of giggling from all 3 women.

“…Okay, well,” Sophie said as she got her breath back. “Rather that than ‘Hands’, that’s for sure!”

“I’ll take that as a win,” Amy giggled as the three women headed through to the kitchen to prepare their evening meals.

After dinner, Amy and Hayley both opted for early nights, leaving Sophie by herself in the living room. However, Sophie was grateful for the peace and quiet, as it enabled her to get a lot of work done on her new book- and after the encounter with ‘Hands’ earlier in the day, Sophie had a lot that she wanted to get down in writing.

Sophie was woken up the following morning by the sound of the flat’s front door opening and closing, which Sophie initially wrote off as a common occurrence whenever her flatmates were on a flight and she wasn’t. However, when Sophie checked the clock on her phone, her eyes immediately widened.

“Te- ten twenty?” Sophie yelped as she threw back the covers. “Must’ve stayed up longer than I thought writing…” Before she left her bedroom however, Sophie paused- Amy and Hayley would’ve had to have left much earlier than 10am to catch their flights, and if it wasn’t them opening the front door…

Sophie found herself panicking as the bedroom door handle started to turn. She reached for a full, heavy can of deodorant, and as the door opened, got ready to swing it…

“Ahh!” Sophie yelled, before grimacing with embarrassment.

“Aiiee!” Rachel Lyscombe shrieked in terror. “Je- Jesus Christ, Soph! Good job I keep clean underwear only a few feet away!”

“Ah- Jeez- sorry, Rachel,” Sophie mumbled. “I thought you- ugh, I dunno.”

“Well, figure it out quickly please,” Rachel snorted. “I don’t really want to wear a crash helmet to bed, I get bad enough bed hair as it is!”

“Ugh, sorry, I only just woke up myself,” Sophie said, before sighing as she stared in her mirror. “Speaking of bed hair…”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Rachel sighed as she sat down on her bed. “Think I’m gonna need a second, heh…”

“I’m gonna be apologising for this for a while, aren’t I?” Sophie asked, grimacing as Rachel sullenly nodded.

“I thought you were on a flight today, anyway,” Rachel said. “Or visiting your parents? Either way I didn’t expect you to still be in this late in the morning.”

“Nah, I’m seeing my parents tomorrow,” Sophie shrugged. “Just thought I’d, you know, take a day off today… God knows I need it after yesterday, heh.”

“Paris?” Rachel asked, smiling sympathetically as Sophie nodded.

“And have you ever heard of hands?” Sophie asked. “Not like the things at the end of your wrists, but-“

“Ugh- god, yeah,” Rachel snorted. “I’m surprised you haven’t run into him before now.”

“Meh, I barely did Paris before- well, before the book, heh,” Sophie chuckled. “But yes, I had a run-in with him yesterday.”

“I did shortly after I started, while I was still in probation,” Rachel said. “I’m sure I told you about him for the book, but thinking about it I probably just said ‘someone once tried to reach up my skirt’ and, well, you probably heard THAT a lot.”

“Just a bit, yeah,” Sophie snorted. “If I’d known it was the same person each time- well, yeah.”

“I doubt it was the same person EVERY time, though,” Rachel snorted. “But- yeah. He’s kinda the reason I’ve started wearing tights on flights instead of stockings, gives an extra layer, of, well, ‘protection’, as bad as that sounds.”

“Even though the employee handbook specifies stockings only on flights, and says why?” Sophie teased, earning an eye roll from the young blonde woman.

“Oh- whatever,” Rachel snorted. “I know how to keep a pair of tights from falling down.”

“Yeah, so do I, and I’ve only been wearing them for less than two years,” Sophie chuckled. “Has Alana never found out?”

“If she has, she hasn’t said anything,” Rachel shrugged. “Doubt she could say anything if everyone just chose to stop wearing stockings and wore tights instead.”

“Maybe we should just do that?” Sophie suggested. “Heh, if you’d told me two years ago that I of all people would be advocating wearing tights to work…”

“Yeah, well, two years ago I’d never have dreamed I’d be sharing a flat with three transgender women,” Rachel said, before grimacing. “I- I don’t mean that in a bad way, just that, you know, I wouldn’t have expected it, and-“

“I get it, really,” Sophie said softly. “Two years ago, I’d never have thought that either!”

“Yeah,” Rachel sighed happily. “Now I can’t imagine it any other way, heh!”

“Not even moving in with Lucas?” Sophie teased, making her roommate roll her eyes.

“…Okay, maybe,” Rachel replied, before giggling quietly. “My parents would love THAT, heh!”

“Yeah, let’s not compare parents’ reactions to our life choices,” Sophie sighed as she stood up and headed out of the bedroom. “Are you staying in today, then?”

“Lucas is at uni all day, so not like I’ve got anything else to do,” Rachel chuckled. “You?”

“Probably doing some writing,” Sophie replied. “Once I’m dressed anyway, heh!”

“I’ll let you get on with that,” Rachel said. “Getting dressed, I mean. I plan on interrupting you writing as I really want to read this new book, heh!”

“Once it’s done,” Sophie teased with a grin as she headed to the flat’s small bathroom. “Though I guess I can now write first-hand about one of the absolute worst things about being a woman.”

“Being groped by gross older men?” Rachel asked. “Can’t argue there. If anything, more men should experience life as a woman, even if only briefly, so they know what it’s like to be on the receiving end.”

“And I can’t argue with THAT,” Sophie said as she stepped into the shower and let the hot water cascade over her slender frame. As she shaved off what little body hair had grown over the past few days- and, much to her chagrin, the fine stubble that had grown on her face, Sophie mused that the one thing she had definitely learned from her life as a woman was that women- ALL women- deserve to be treated with respect. She'd learned that being a woman was not an easy thing, and the encounter with 'Hands' just proved that. However, the rewards were more than worth it, as Sophie was reminded when she went back into her bedroom and stared at the large photo collage that dominated the wall next to her bed. Photos of parties, nights out, special occasions, all of which featured her friends, and none of which showed even a hint of 'James'.

After she finished showering, Sophie returned to the living room where she spent most of the morning and afternoon writing and editing the latest chapter for her book- and trying to keep her roommate from peeking at it. Amy and Hayley returned later that evening, and the four women shared their evening meal, during which Sophie couldn’t help but muse on Rachel’s words from earlier, how her living arrangement- both in terms of her flatmates and herself- felt completely natural to Sophie, as did the dinnertime discussion of their work, their lives, their love lives and especially Rachel’s ‘tights rebellion’. As her life as 'Sophie' had progressed, the young woman had quickly felt like a 'true' transwoman, like her friends and flatmates, but in recent months, Sophie had begun to feel less like a 'transwoman', and more like a 'woman', full stop- and Sophie truly loved the feeling of warmth, love and acceptance that went with it.

The following morning, Sophie was woken once again by the sound of the flat’s front door open and closing, though this time, it didn’t generate the same feeling of panic- firstly, because Sophie’s phone revealed that it had barely gone 7 o’clock, and second, and most importantly, because Sophie knew that all three of her flatmates had flights, while she was once again stuck at a loose end- though that wouldn't be the case for the whole day.

After a morning of relaxing and reviewing what she’d written the previous day, Sophie ate a quick lunch before heading through to her bedroom to prepare for the afternoon that laid ahead of her. After expertly applying her light make-up- just enough to hide her more masculine features and give extra definition to her more feminine side- Sophie reached into her drawers for her outfit for the day, a warm dark grey turtleneck and a knee-length A-line skirt in a lighter grey. As it was colder than usual outside, Sophie instinctively reached into her underwear drawer for a pair of translucent black tights, and as she rolled the clingy garment up her legs, Sophie mused on the discussion she'd had with Rachel the previous day. The tights she wore didn't make Sophie feel any more 'protected'- they were thin, flimsy and could be destroyed by a misplaced fingernail. And while they stopped her from leaving the apartment with bare legs, Sophie still felt vulnerable, as she knew they would likely draw just as much male attention as bare legs would have done. However, they did make Sophie feel more feminine- and as far as she was concerned, that was more than enough reason to wear them. After ensuring that her make-up was immaculate, Sophie slipped her feet into a pair of comfortable, stylish flats, grabbed her handbag and left the flat, smiling at how no one on the crowded streets of London gave her a second look- apart from the young (and in some case, not so young) men who liked what they saw. However, after her run-in with ‘Hands’, Sophie was even less motivated than usual to give them any unwanted signals.

“Hello, Sophie!” The refined, professional voice of Dr Beverly Phillips said when Sophie walked through her office door a short while later. “Please, take a seat.”

“Thanks,” Sophie said, dropping her bag underneath her seat and unconsciously smoothing her skirt beneath her as she sat down. “I- well, I’ve had a bit of a week since we last spoke, heh.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” Dr Phillips asked.

“Well- both, really,” Sophie sighed. “On the good side, I’ve had lots of free time to work on my book, and no, that’s not a hint that I want more material, heh.”

“That’s good, because I am running a bit dry,” Dr Phillips said with a smile. “And good that you’re getting time to work on the book, too.”

“Not necessarily,” Sophie sighed. “It also means I’m hardly getting any shifts at work, which means I’m hardly getting any income.”

“Well- yes, obviously that would be a source of stress,” Dr Phillips conceded.

“Back on the plus side, I actually have a date tonight,” Sophie continued, earning a grin from her counsellor. “From someone who knows all about ‘James’ and ‘Sophie’ and yes, will be expecting the latter.”

“Oh, now that IS good news!” Dr Phillips chuckled. “Are you nervous?”

“Maybe a little,” Sophie shrugged. “It’s a double date, actually, me and Amy and two new hires from work, so we know each other and- and me and Amy AREN’T one of the couples, it’ll be me with a new hire and Amy with the other new hire.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest anything,” Dr Phillips said as she subtly made a note on her pad.

“So, that’ll be a chance to have a bit of fun and relax a bit,” Sophie said, fidgeting nervously in her seat. “Which I- I’m kinda gonna need, heh…”

“Sophie?” Dr Phillips asked, a concerned look spreading across her face.

“…And the major bad thing that happened this week,” Sophie whispered. “On a flight on Tuesday, I had a customer who- he- he put his hand up my skirt.”

“Oh dear, I am sorry to hear that,” Dr Phillips said in a genuinely concerned voice.

“And I really mean UP,” Sophie said. “I’m used to the occasional, you know, ‘brush’ that may or not be accidental, but this was definitely deliberate. No doubt your next question will be ‘how did that make you feel’, and the answer to that is, well… ‘Less than a person’, is that makes any sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” Dr Phillips reassured the young woman. “What you experienced, Sophie, is similar to what hundreds of women go through on a daily basis.”

“I know,” Sophie moaned. “And that’s why I feel so- so pathetic for bringing it up, for dwelling on it-“

“Let- let me stop you there,” Dr Phillips interrupted gently. “Just because it happens to many other women doesn’t make it trivial when it happens to you- quite the opposite, in fact. What happened to you was sexual harassment, plain and simple. It happens to a large- too large a number of women throughout their lifetime.”

“I know,” Sophie whispered. “And I’d be lying if I- if I said it didn’t make me question whether or not I truly wanted to be a woman.”

“I can understand that,” Dr Phillips said. “But I also have to point out that you could just as easily have come here today as ‘James’, but you chose to come as ‘Sophie’.”

“Oh- I never said I was really thinking about abandoning ‘Sophie’,” the young woman retorted. “Only that, you know, it’s given me- heh, it’s given me plenty of material for the book. And an insight into being a woman that a LOT of men could stand to learn from.”

“You won’t get any argument from me,” Dr Phillips said with a smile.

“Is there- is there anything I can do in the future?” Sophie asked. “Like, as in coping mechanisms, that sort of thing? It’s not like I’d get away with punching the guy in the face, he’s one of the airline’s biggest clients…”

“I can certainly point you to websites with testimonials and advice from other vic- other, umm, people who have gone through what you have,” Dr Phillips replied, grimacing at her near slip of the tongue. “But I can’t advise you on how to make it feel normal, because it should never, ever feel normal.”

“…Thanks,” Sophie sighed. “At least one good thing to come out of this is that I have plenty of material now for the book, heh.”

“Which every man should read,” Dr Phillips said softly. “Sophie, it’s important that you don’t dwell on this one incident. I know you well enough to know that you won’t view your entire life as a woman through the lens of this one incident, even if it does make you feel more vulnerable.”

“It’d never have happened to ‘James’, though,” Sophie retorted.

“Yes, you’re probably right,” Dr Phillips conceded. “But like I said a short while ago, it’s not ‘James’ sat in front of me.”

“…No it isn’t,” Sophie mumbled. “But I- I’m worried.”

“That’s perfectly natural,” Dr Phillips reassured the young woman.

“Not just for myself, but- but for my friends too,” Sophie said. “Like, in the context of where I work. We can submit reports complaining about customer behaviour, but nothing will ever happen, not when money talks.”

“I see,” Dr Phillips said. “Is this concern for your friends’ part of why you continue to work for the airline, even though your preferred career is elsewhere?”

“Maybe, probably,” Sophie shrugged. “I dunno, it’s just- ugh.” Sophie paused and took a few deep breaths to compose herself, before continuing. “I’ve- recently, on occasion, I’ve been thinking- I’ve been thinking about going full-time. Actually, transitioning, you know?”

“Okay,” Dr Phillips said, making more notes on her pad. “When did you first feel like this?”

“Well- well it’s not so much a ‘first time I felt like it’,” Sophie said. “It’s more of a gradual thing, if that makes any sense?”

“A little,” Dr Phillips nodded. “Do- do you want to fully transition?”

“…I kinda do, but I kinda don’t,” Sophie admitted. “I see the happiness it brings my friends, but I- I-“

“You don’t know if it’d be right for you?” Dr Phillips asked, smiling as Sophie nodded. “That’s understandable. It’s not a decision that can be taken lightly, and of course you understand I can’t simply prescribe oestrogen based on ‘kinda do but kinda don’t.”

“And I wasn’t going to ask for it,” Sophie said. “But I’ve been recently thinking a lot, you know? Like, if push came to shove, I could- I could say goodbye to ‘James’, if I needed to. But I don’t think I could ever say goodbye to ‘Sophie’. But while I have the option of ‘both’, it- it’s like I have the best of both worlds. And I- I want to keep it that way.”

“As is your right,” Dr Phillips said.

“Even if it does mean the occasional hand up my skirt,” Sophie mumbled with a shiver.

“What I think will help,” Dr Phillips said, “especially for someone as, well, literate as you, is if you kept a diary of these feelings, what triggers these desires to transition, and what exactly you feel when you think about it.”

“Well- okay,” Sophie said. “And yes, I’m keeping a diary of ‘incidents’ as well.”

“Keep a diary of your feelings relating to them as well,” Dr Phillips advised. “Not for publication, but for your own sake.”

“I was about to say,” Sophie said, making her counsellor chuckle.

“You’d be surprised how much it helps, expressing your feelings, even if it is only in printed form,” Dr Phillips said, Sophie relaxing as she listened intently to her counsellor’s advice.

Sophie left the office just over 45 minutes later feeling relieved to been able to get a lot off her chest, but knowing that she still had a long way to go. She’d never told anyone before about her thoughts of transitioning, not even her friends, as while she knew they would be 100% supportive of her, she didn’t want to get their hopes up and ultimately disappoint them- and she was even more worried about getting her own hopes up and ultimately disappointing herself. She was also worried that she hadn’t seen- or worse yet, felt the last of ‘Hands’, but at her counsellor’s urging, she put such concerns to the back of her mind- after all, later that night, she had a date.

While ‘James’ had been on many dates in the past, for ‘Sophie’, it would be a new experience, and as such, she was initially clueless about the whole thing. However, as always, Sophie’s friends had been on hand to give her all the advice and assistance she needed- advice about how to act on a same-gender date, and most importantly, advice on what to wear.

Sophie arrived home to an empty flat, but rather than put the kettle on or relax and wait for her flatmates to return from their flights, Sophie headed straight to her bedroom to prepare for the evening ahead. Amy had told her that the getting ready for a date was almost as much fun as the date itself, and as she sat down in front of her mirror with her vast cosmetics collection spread out in front of her, Sophie could easily see why her friend would say that.

Unlike her subtle make-up that she wore to see her counsellor, for the date, Sophie went all out. A thick layer of foundation and bronzer was the first to be applied, followed by a liberal coating of smoky eyeshadow, thick eyeliner and fake eyelashes. Sophie took care to blend multiple different colours together to achieve the perfect look, and as she applied her scarlet lipstick, she couldn't help but muse on how applying make-up hadn't just become natural to her, but fun- and she'd unexpectedly become an expert on creating complicated and varying styles. Once her make-up was done, Sophie exchanged her comfortable tights and panties for a more 'controlling' thong, and removed her breast forms from her comfortable white bra and instead put them into a lacy black bra she'd been saving for special occasions- and the date certainly counted.

Sophie took extra care as she brushed out her hair into a loose but stylish bob, ensuring it wasn't as severe as the style she wore for work, but was still stylish and demure rather than anything too 'wild'. It was also, of course, the longest that Sophie's hair had ever been. Once her hair was brushed, Sophie reached into her jewellery box for a special pair of dangly silver earrings she'd received for her birthday last year from her friend Natalie, followed by a dainty silver chain and a smart black watch. As she fastened the timepiece around her wrist, Sophie let out a quiet giggle at the notion that she had enough jewellery to warrant owning a jewellery box- never mind the fact that she had pierced ears in which she could exchange earrings with ease and without any pain. Sophie's smile widened as she slipped her bare but immaculately pedicured feet into her most expensive pair of sandals, a pair with 3 thin ankle straps and a 4” stiletto heel, before opening her wardrobe and pulling out the dress she’d selected for the date.

The strappy dark mauve dress wasn’t anything too spectacular while it was on its hanger, but Sophie knew that once it was on her body, it would be the coup de grace. It wasn’t short- the skirt came to just above her knee- and it wasn’t snug either, as it required a belt, nor was it too low-cut due to Sophie’s lack of ‘natural’ cleavage. It was, however, perfect for Sophie's body once she’d slipped it on and fastened the belt around her wait. A liberal spray of perfume was next, followed by a handbag the same colour as her dress, and finally, Sophie’s look was complete.

The brown-haired woman grinned widely as she examined her reflection in her full-length mirror. It had taken her almost an hour to get ready, but it had been worth it and she had loved every second of it, every smell, every taste and especially every touch of the soft lace on her chest, the swishing of the dress around her thighs and even the feel of her feet in her high-heeled shoes. When ‘James’ had got ready for a night out, all he had to do was comb his hair, spray on deodorant, pull on a pair of trousers, a shirt and smart shoes and that was him done. ‘James’ had barely paid any attention to what he was doing whenever he got ready in the past, but Sophie had found that her friend’s advice was true- and she couldn’t wait for the date to begin. Sophie grinned as she heard the flat’s front door opened, and immediately decided that her three flatmates should be the first to see her new look.

“Ta-daaaaaooooohhhhh my god…” Sophie said as she opened the door and was confronted by the looks on the faces of her three friends- two of which were staring at her angrily, while the other was in a state of deep despair. “R- Rachel? What happened?”

“You’d know if you answered your fucking phone,” Amy snarled.

“I- I had it on silent…” Sophie feebly mumbled as the four women slowly sat down, Hayley and Amy sitting either side of Rachel as though they were her bodyguards.

“I’ve called your parents,” Hayley said softly to the weeping blonde girl. “Your mum will be here in a bit.”

“Oh- oh god, not my mum…” Rachel wailed as Sophie became more and more uncomfortable.

“Would- would someone please tell me what happened?” Sophie asked as gently as she could, before grimacing as Amy grabbed her arm and dragged her into the kitchen.

“If you must know,” Amy said in a quiet snarl. “Rachel was assaulted on a flight this afternoon. Sexually assaulted. By a passenger.” Sophie felt her entire body turn to ice as she tried to process what she was told.

“Oh- oh my god,” Sophie whispered. “Is- is she-“

“Okay?” Amy snorted. “Does she look okay!?” Sophie bit her lip as Amy’s eyes filled with rage again, before the ginger girl sighed and shook her head. “Ugh, Soph, I- I’m sorry, I don’t mean to take it out on you, I just- I just need to take it out on SOMEONE, you know?”

“How about the cunt that did that to Rachel?” Sophie asked as her state of shock began to dissipate and be replaced by a feeling of extreme anger.

“Yeah, right,” Amy snorted. “Director of Provident Sports. One of the company’s biggest contracts. We called the police on him when we returned to London and he was led away in handcuffs, but you know he’s going to just get an absolute army of lawyers, and they’re going to just, you know, batter Rachel in court…”

“…Yeah,” Sophie whispered. “We- we can’t let that happen. The company can’t let that happen, surely?”

“Who d’you think Alana and Masson are going to value more?” Amy snorted, triggering an idea in Sophie's head.

“I can think of someone…” Sophie said as she returned to her bedroom and took her phone off silent.

Twenty minutes later a knock came at the flat’s front door, and Amy opened it to be greeted by the angry faces of Amelie Masson and her fiancée.

“Bonsoir, Amy,” Amelie said quietly. “May we come in?”

“Of course,” Amy whispered, leading the two women into the living room, where Rachel broke down in tears yet again at the sight of her two friends.

“Oh, non, non non non,” Amelie whispered as she sat down beside the blonde woman and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You cry if you must, Rachel. But we are not here to judge. We are here to be your friends only.”

“Shouldn’t she be in hospital?” Ellen asked.

“No- no, I’m- I’m okay,” Rachel whispered. “He- I- I’m not hurt, just…” The five other women in the flat tried to smile sympathetically as Rachel once again broke down in tears.

“’Just’,” Amelie snorted. “There is no ‘just’. I do not know what he did and I do not need to know. All I know is he crossed a line and must be punished. Three months ago, Sophie, my sister and I reformed the Tutu Project. I think it is time we used our voice.”

“If your father will listen to us,” Ellen snorted. “Or Alana.”

“We shall make them listen,” Amelie said confidently, before smiling sympathetically. “Rachel. You must not worry. Know that this is NOT your fault. You are among friends. Whatever help you need, we will give. All of us.”

“Absolutely,” Sophie said as all of the other girls nodded in agreement, before a gentle knock came from the front door. “That’ll be Rachel’s mother, we- we should give them some space.” The other four women all nodded in agreement as Sophie let the distraught girl’s mother into the flat, before retreating into the kitchen to allow Rachel and her mother to speak privately.

“…Okay,” Amelie said firmly as the women sat down at the kitchen table. “I am sure that you are all aware that this means war.”

“Umm… I’m all for fighting for my friends,” Amy said. “But who exactly will we be fighting?”

“My father,” Amelie replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Umm, but he wasn’t the one who attacked Rachel,” Hayley said. “That guy’s already in custody.”

“And on the phone to a thousand lawyers who will silence Rachel,” Amelie said. “I guarantee that my father’s lawyers shall not speak for Rachel. Where would be the money in that?”

“Well- I guess…” Hayley mumbled.

“Have you ever noticed how we’re probably the only major airline whose cabin crew don’t have a trade union?” Ellen asked.

“Have you ever noticed how we’re paid a lot better than most cabin crew, too?” Hayley asked.

“Have you ever noticed how we are treated much worse than other cabin crew?” Amelie asked, silencing her colleagues.

“…And we all know why,” Amy sighed, before pointing at herself, Hayley and Sophie. “Well, three of us do.”

“Oui,” Amelie conceded. “I do not know what it is, a man sees what he thinks is a man dressed as a woman and assumes he can treat them as he wishes. But I only see five women sat at this table. Because these same men believe they can treat all women as their possessions. As Rachel will tell you.”

“We can’t really fight the customers though, can we?” Hayley asked. “I mean, what CAN we do?”

“…We can tell Alana that enough is enough,” Sophie said. “Something Rachel told me that she doesn’t tell you is that on flights, she wears tights instead of stockings. We should all start doing that. God knows what would’ve happened to Rachel if she had worn stockings today. We can also wear lower heels, no corsets or girdles, more comfortable uniforms. For starters, anyway.”

“I doubt different hosiery would’ve made any difference at all,” Ellen snorted, inadvertently reminding Sophie that she still had a lot to learn about being a woman.

“And says the woman sitting in her kitchen in stilettos and a £200 cocktail dress,” Hayley said, making Sophie grimace and giggle at her attire.

“Ah- god…” Sophie sighed. “Completely forgot about my date…”

“I texted them before we came home,” Amy said. “Figured you’d- heh. Figured you’d be so wound up about what happened to Rachel it’d completely slip your mind. And, well, I was right. Right after all, heh.”

“Thanks,” Sophie whispered to her friend, both for cancelling the date and Amy’s implied apology for how she’d spoken to Sophie earlier.

“Well, this is all well and good,” Hayley said, “but what good is wearing tights instead of stockings going to do if all it does is get us written warnings? It won’t help Rachel.”

“No, but it might help whoever’s next,” Ellen said. “And there will be a ‘next’.”

“Well- I don’t want to gamble my livelihood on this,” Hayley sighed. “No offence, Amelie but- but it sounds almost like you’re using this as an excuse to go up against your father.” Sophie bit her lip as the French girl frowned- she knew from experience that Amelie had a fierce temper, but much to her surprise, Amelie simply nodded.

“I can see why you might think that,” Amelie conceded. “But you all know that things must improve. You would not have spoken to Sophie for her book if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, but- and no offence, Sophie- it’s not like that did a lot of good,” Hayley said. “What happened to Rachel-“

“Was not my fault or the fault of anyone else sat around this table,” Sophie said, her stomach churning as she considered the possibility that without the book, maybe Rachel’s attacker wouldn’t have felt so bold.

“And we’re losing sight of the real issue here,” Amy said. “What’s best for Rachel right now.”

“Oui,” Amelie whispered. “And if I could travel back in him and rip the dick off of the man who attacked her, I would. But I can’t. But we must do something. We cannot let this go without consequence.”

“Well- I’m sorry, but I don’t think going after your father’s the right way of going about this,” Hayley sighed.

“You’ve got to start at the top if you’re going to make real change,” Ellen countered.

“What ‘change’, though?” Amy asked. “Slightly more practical uniforms won’t stop horny businessman from trying to grope us all the time.”

“And you know what I think,” Amelie said. “Which I think means it is two votes for and two votes against. Sophie? Where do you stand?” Sophie froze as she was put on the spot.

Even after almost two years, she still felt like an outsider in the airline, both because of her ‘real’ career and, most importantly, because of her ‘status’. At heart, she was a reporter, not a flight attendant. Flowing through her blood was testosterone, not oestrogen. The four women sat at the table were deeply personally invested in what they were discussing, but Sophie had an ‘out’- her writing career- whenever she wanted. In her mind, there was no one less qualified to cast the deciding vote than her. And yet, the more Sophie thought about, the more she realised she WAS just as invested in the discussion at hand, for many reasons both personal and professional.

“Well, I- I like eating, for starters,” Sophie said. “I’m hardly getting any shifts, and my savings are getting low, and- and I don’t mean this in a nasty way, Amelie, but- but you seem a little TOO eager to go up against your father.”

“His attitude DOES need changing!” Amelie protested. “If not by us then by who? Alana? She would need to take her mouth out of his ass to speak first!”

“So, you’re on their side?” Ellen asked disappointedly.

“The person who’s side I’m on,” Sophie said firmly, “is Rachel’s. And the question is: who’s gonna be next? Because that guy WILL get off. His lawyers will see to that. We need to do SOMETHING. Even if it just being allowed to wear tights instead of stockings on flights.”

“The five of us can hardly do anything, though,” Amy said. “We’d need, like, every stewardess in London on our side. And they’d need to know why we’re doing this. And we can’t do that to Rachel.”

“Well- no, no we can’t,” Amelie mumbled. At that moment, a knock came from the kitchen door, which opened to reveal the tear-streaked face of Rachel's mother.

“Hi,” the older woman said softly. “We’re going to head off now, Rachel’s going to stay at our place for the next week or so until she gets back onto her feet. We- we overheard a lot of what you were saying in here.”

“Ah- ugh, we are sorry,” Amelie said, her cheeks flushing with shame.

“Is she- is she okay?” Sophie asked.

“As ‘okay’ as she can be, under the circumstances,” Mrs Lyscombe replied in a quiet, scared voice. “She- she wanted you to know that- that her answer is yes.”

“…’Yes’ to what?” Ellen asked. “What did we ask?”

“’Yes’ as in yes, she wants to- to join this ‘union’ of yours,” Mrs Lyscombe said. “She knows that everyone will hear about her- hear about what- what happened eventually…” The older woman’s voice trailed off as tears began to well in her eyes, and almost immediately, all the women in the kitchen began to quietly weep too- Sophie included.

“Here,” Amy whispered, handing the older woman a box of tissues.

“Thank you,” Mrs Lyscombe whispered as she dried her eyes. “I’m- I’m going to take Rachel up to A&E, just to get her checked over, then we- we’ll head home. I’ll be in contact and let you know when she’s up for seeing other people. She wanted to say thank you to all of you for being such good friends.”

“Always,” Hayley whispered.

“And she wanted to say sorry to you, Sophie,” Mrs Lyscombe said, widening the brown-haired woman’s eyes. “For ruining your date tonight.”

“Oh, no- no. Just no,” Sophie said firmly. “She should never, ever apologise for that. Some things are more important, and Rachel’s one of them.”

“…Thank you,” Mrs Lyscombe said. “Thank you all. I will be in touch.”

“Thank you,” Amy whispered on behalf of the group.

“Oh, and, umm,” Mrs Lyscombe said, pausing before she left. “Rachel, she- she’s due on a flight tomorrow. Obviously, I’ll call in sick for her, but I was wondering if you could-“

“Consider it done,” Sophie whispered.

“Thank you,” Mrs Lyscombe said. “Thank you all again.” The five women nodded as the older woman left the apartment.

“We- we should probably get home,” Ellen said.

“Oui,” Amelie nodded. “We shall have a lot of phone calls and instant messages to send.”

“We’re definitely going through with this, then?” Amy asked.

“Things have to change,” Sophie said quietly as she remembered her own experience from earlier in the week- though a guilty feeling soon filled her as she realised that what happened to her paled in comparison to what had happened to her friend, and that her fears might have been right- if it wasn’t for the book, Rachel might well have never been assaulted. Sophie considered Rachel to be one of her very best friends, and her actions might have caused her irreparable harm.

However, as she got ready for bed later that night, Sophie reasoned to herself that nowhere in her book did it say that flight attendants should be attacked. Nowhere did it say that they DESERVED to be attacked- quite the opposite, in fact. The man, the animal who attacked Rachel was capable of thinking for himself. He was capable of making his own decisions. He had decided, all by himself, that he was going to try to force himself onto her friend. Rationally, Sophie knew that she played no part in that decision. How could she? She was hundreds of miles away on the ground at the time. And yet, Sophie still felt guilty. She knew full well the influence that ideas and suggestions can have on people. She wouldn’t have dressed in high heels and a cocktail dress that evening if it hadn’t been for a suggestion from someone else almost two years earlier…

Sophie was woken up the following morning by her phone, but rather than her alarm, it was an incoming call. Sophie immediately recognised the incoming number as her workplace, and a glance over at the other, empty bed in the room made Sophie realise why her employers were calling her.

“Hello?” Sophie said as she answered her phone.

“Hi Sophie, it’s Gemma here from work,” the voice on the other end of the line replied. “We’ve had someone call in sick and we need someone to step in on a flight to Berlin, can you make it in in an hour?”

“Umm, sure,” Sophie replied as she got out of bed and stretched her tired muscles.

“Thanks,” Gemma said. “Alana will want a word with you as well when you get in.” Despite herself, Sophie couldn’t help but let out a groan at the mention of her manager’s name- though as she ended the call, she realised it gave her an opportunity to speak her mind about everything that had happened the previous day, and maybe get the ball rolling on bringing about change for the airline- and to chase up the report she’d filed after her last flight.

Sophie walked into Heathrow airport a short while later, dressed in her usual smart attire of a clean white blouse, a knee-length black pencil skirt and stiletto-heeled pumps. Underneath her skirt, however, she wore translucent black tights instead of the regulation stockings- something Sophie had no intention of changing once she was in her uniform. With a determined look on her face, she headed to the employee-only area of the airport and knocked on her manager’s office door.

“Come in,” Alana said, smiling as Sophie entered the room and sat down opposite her. “Before you head off to Berlin, Sophie, I need to let you know about an incident that happened on a flight yesterday.”

“Yes, I already know- Rachel’s my flatmate,” Sophie said.

“Ah- of course,” Alana said. “It should go without saying then that we want to avoid any such incidents in the future.” Sophie allowed herself a small smile as her manager spoke- she knew from others that Alana used to be a flight attendant herself, so knew what it was like on the ‘front lines’. Sophie held out hope that what happened to Rachel served as a wakeup call to Alana, and that Amelie’s proposed ‘union’ wouldn’t be necessary after all…

“I couldn’t agree more,” Sophie said. “And I’m hoping that the person who attacked Rachel yesterday gets locked away for a VERY long time.”

“Yes, well,” Alana said, fidgeting awkwardly and causing Sophie’s heart to sink. “We’re hoping that will go away as soon as possible. I’m sure you can appreciate that one of our customers being led away in handcuffs isn’t a great visual for the airline, especially when he works for one of our biggest clients.”

“Well, him attacking a stewardess is hardly a great visual for THAT company, is it?” Sophie asked, her anger starting to boil up inside her.

“Well, that’s something for them to deal with,” Alana said dismissively.

“So- so what exactly are we supposed to do, then?” Sophie asked. “You want us to avoid incidents like that, well- well most of us do as well!”

“Good,” Alana said, her own anger starting to rise at Sophie’s insubordinate attitude. “You are to take every step necessary to protect the reputation and image of the airline.”

“…Fine,” Sophie said, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

“One other thing,” Alana said. “It has been brought to our attention that some flight attendants have been in breach of our uniform code. As you know, the uniform code is strict in order to maintain a perfectly professional image, and anyone found to have deviated from it, even slightly, will be subject to disciplinary action.”

“Well, then maybe the uniform code needs to be looked at,” Sophie said, barely keeping a lid on her anger.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Alana said bluntly.

“Maybe it should be,” Sophie said, triggering an awkward pause between the two women.

“…I’ve said all I need to,” Alana said. “You have a flight to catch. I suggest you try to be a bit more grateful that you have work today, Sophie. Might I also suggest that you be grateful that you even get to wear a skirt to work at all.” Sophie’s eyes widened as Alana’s final sentence struck every nerve in Sophie’s slender body.

It wasn’t that Sophie wasn’t grateful to be able to wear a skirt to work, it was the notion that without the airline’s uniform code, it would be impossible- something Sophie knew to be blatantly untrue. She was grateful to the airline for giving her the chance to discover ‘Sophie’, but she was more grateful to Rachel Harrison for approaching her about the opportunity. She was more grateful to Amy and Hayley for the love and encouragement they showed her during her first few weeks. She was more grateful to Dr Phillips for her professional support. And she was grateful to Rachel Lyscombe for her ongoing friendship and acceptance. And she was not about to let her friend be punished for a trivial violation of a draconian uniform code- especially not after what she had had to endure earlier that week. Which brought another thing to Sophie’s mind…

“I submitted an unacceptable passenger behaviour report earlier this week,” Sophie said. “Against Alan Hopkins. Is there any update on it yet?”

“It’s being looked at,” Alana bluntly replied. So, in other words, no, and there won’t be, Sophie thought to herself as she rose from her chair and left the office without saying another word. En route to the locker room to get changed, Sophie took out her phone and composed a simple text message to her friend Amelie.

‘Just spoke to Alana,’ the message read. ‘Went as expected. It’s on.’

Sophie’s flights to and from Berlin were incident-free, much to the brown-haired woman’s relief. When she returned to her flat and switched her phone back on, she was unsurprised to find several text messages from Amelie waiting for her, all reporting her progress in contacting the various stewardesses who worked for the airline. What did surprise Sophie, however, was a text message from her roommate.

‘Hey Soph,’ Rachel’s message read. ‘Just wanted you to know I’m feeling a little better today. I’ve been signed off work for 2 weeks by my GP and I’m going to be staying with my parents, assuming I don’t kill my sisters lol. Please let the rest of the girls know I’m thinking of them and I can’t wait to see them all again. I’ve been in touch with Amelie too about the thing you were discussing last night. Love Rach xx.’

‘I’ll let everyone know,’ Sophie replied. ‘Take care of yourself. We’re all here for you whenever you need us.’ Despite her best efforts, Sophie couldn’t help but let out a tear as she pressed the ‘send’ button, both at Rachel’s message and the memory of when she was at her lowest, on her birthday, when she’d explained to her friends her reason for working for the airline. Back then they had showed Sophie unconditional love and support, and Sophie felt that she owed Rachel the very same love and support a thousand times over.

Despite not having any shifts, the next five days passed quickly for Sophie as she worked on her book and kept in touch with Amelie and Ellen about their plans. Almost before she knew it, it was Thursday morning, and she was heading into work for her next scheduled shift, a quick trip to and from Dublin. When she entered the locker room to change into her uniform, though, Sophie was greeted by the last face she expected to see.

“R- Rachel?” Sophie asked the young blonde woman, who was in the process of changing out of her uniform. “What- what are you doing here? I thought you were off work for another week?”

“Yeah, well, so did I,” Rachel sighed as she handed Sophie a carefully folded letter.

“What’s this?” Sophie asked.

“First written warning,” Rachel replied. “Repeated violations of the uniform code.”

“You’re joking,” Sophie whispered as she read the letter, which confirmed what her blonde friend had just said.

“Hence…” Rachel sighed, gesturing to her legs and the black stockings that were covering them.

“Ugh,” Sophie spat, before taking her phone out of her bag. “I’m not taking a photo by the way, I’m texting Amelie.”

“Already done,” Rachel said. “It was also strongly hinted to me that this written warning means I needn’t bother applying for any promotions any time soon. That and my sick record.”

“You mean the previously unblemished sick record that-“ Sophie asked, grimacing as she was unable to finish her sentence in a tactful way.

“Yep,” Rachel replied. “THAT sick record.”

“Ugh,” Sophie spat, shaking her head in despair. "I- umm, ordinarily I'd offer a hug, but consider what-" Sophie stopped as the young blonde woman leaned into her chest and let out a gentle sigh, while Sophie gently wrapped her arms around her.

"I'm okay if it's another woman I'm hugging," Rachel said with a sad smile while Sophie blinked back tears of happiness that Rachel would consider her woman enough to hug, under the circumstances- and happiness that Rachel was slowly, but surely recovering from her attack.

“Are you heading home now, then?” Sophie asked.

“Well I’m damned sure not sticking around here,” Rachel snorted, defiantly removing her stockings and shoving them in her handbag before storming out of the locker room, leaving Sophie in a state of disbelief. When Rachel had started with the airline, Sophie had been her mentor during her first few months, and Alana had explicitly told Sophie that Rachel was being groomed for a senior role in the airline. And yet, through no fault of her own, Rachel had been practically thrown on the scrapheap. Sophie's mind immediately started worrying about just how vulnerable to the same rejection she and the rest of her friends were.

However, Sophie was confident that soon, things would change. Upon her return from Dublin, Sophie made her way around to Amelie and Ellen’s vast apartment, where many of her colleagues were already assembled.

“Sophie!” Amelie said, greeting the brown-haired woman with a gentle hug as she arrived.

“Wow,” Sophie said as she made her way through the thronging crowd. “You’ve got a lot of people here!”

“And these are just those who could be here tonight,” Amelie said. “Our week was tres productive!”

“Out of the 110 stewardesses who work at the hub,” Ellen explained, “we’ve signed up 87.”

“That- really?” Sophie asked. “That’s a HUGE majority…”

“Most of them have heard what happened to Rachel,” Amelie said darkly. “The rest heard what happened to her today.”

“It’s time things changed,” Ellen said defiantly. “One advantage of having a sister who’s studying politics at uni and who’s more left wing than Jeremy Corbyn is that she knows a thing or two about how to start a union! Most of the hard work’s already been done. Everyone’s organised. We know what we want. And we’re prepared to do whatever we need to do to make it happen.”

“Well- good,” Sophie said. “The sooner this is over, the better.”

“All we need do is elect a spokeswoman,” Amelie said.

“Umm, any reason you can’t do it?” Sophie asked as she joined Amelie and her fiancée on their plush sofa.

“Oui,” the Frenchwoman replied. “Because I am not a stewardess anymore!”

“Ellen, then?” Sophie asked.

“Meh, Alana HATES me,” the Mancunian woman said as she and Amelie continued to gaze at Sophie, with many of the other women soon joining in.

“Umm…” Sophie said, fidgeting under the gaze of her friends and colleagues. “And you think she likes ME?”

“The spokeswoman should be a transgender girl,” Ellen said softly. “We’re trying to change the uniform code. That was put in place to discriminate against transgender girls. It should be a transgender girl who speaks for us.”

“But- but I’m not even…“ Sophie mumbled, her voice trailing off as her cheeks reddened.

“Not even… What?” Amy asked. “Not even really a T-girl? Is that what you were going to say? Because if you do think that, you’re probably the only person in this room who does.”

“If you think that you are not really a woman, you would be the only one here too,” Amelie said, making Sophie bite her lip as everyone nodded in agreement.

“…If anyone should be a spokeswoman for us, it’s big mouth over there,” Sophie said, pointing to her ginger haired flatmate, who immediately got a look of pretend shock on her face.

“Shocked and appalled,” Amy said with a dismissive wave, before giggling. “Seriously though, I didn’t go to university, you did, you’ll be better at this than me, more, you know, legit.”

“Oh, get a room, you two!” One of the assembled women yelled, making Amy and Sophie simultaneously roll their eyes.

“…Okay, fine,” Sophie sighed. “So… What do we do now? My only experience of ‘unions’ is the Student Union when I was at uni, heh.”

“Yeah, trust me, that’s REALLY not the same thing,” Ellen chuckled. “First, we wait for everyone to arrive, either in person or by Skype. Then, we elect a chairwoman, secretary and treasurer, that way we make everything above board. Then, we work out what we want- though I think everyone in here is already in agreement there, heh. Then tomorrow, you go into Alana’s office and make her listen to us.”

“Great!” Sophie said with forced enthusiasm, though inside, she was shaking with fear.

Sophie had no problem with the principle of trade unions- she was a member of a journalists’ trade union, albeit one where her only activity was paying her annual membership fee. This, however, would be different. Sophie would be expected to not only be a member of the union, but represent them to their manager- and even worse- from Sophie’s perspective, at least- was the feeling that she was expected to represent the whole of womankind. And yet, despite her anxiety, Sophie was forced to concede that she was not an outsider- in that room, she was truly one of the girls. She’d worked for the airline longer than many of the other women. She’d even lived life as a woman for longer than some of the other women. They all respected and trusted her enough that they wanted her, and only her, to speak on their behalf. Sophie wanted to help her friends in any way she could- and she was extremely passionate about helping her fellow transgender women in any way she could. Sophie was among friends, and she knew that- but she was still anxious.

Even though all of her friends were aware of her ‘status’ and had been for months, Sophie still occasionally felt like an impostor, especially when she was the centre of attention. This was because even though her friends had all accepted her for who she was- and more importantly, so had Sophie herself- there were two very important people in her life who hadn’t; who didn’t know about Sophie's continued desire to live her life as 'Sophie'. Her parents still thought she was only running out the clock at the airline to avoid rousing suspicions about the book. They still thought that she secretly hated being ‘Sophie’, and was only living her life for work only. They’d never met the friends that she truly loved, had never met ‘Sophie’- and had never even seen ‘her’ in the flesh. And as dyed in the wool Thatcherites, Sophie shuddered to think what they would think about their son pulling on a dress and heels and leading a trade union…

However, as Sophie often rationalised to herself, her life was her own. Not her parents’, not her friends’, but hers, and she was free to live her life however she wanted. And she wanted to help her friends. She’d written the book in part to help her friends, she’d immersed herself in femininity in order to help her friends, and she was at the meeting to help the friends that she loved- especially Rachel. Sophie reminded herself that what happened to Rachel shouldn’t ever happen to any woman, ever. And she would do anything to ensure that it never would again. If it meant confronting her manager head on, it was a price Sophie was willing to pay. If it meant doing so wearing a dress and heels, then to Sophie it was a bonus. But if it meant becoming estranged from her parents…

The meeting continued until late into the evening. Much to Sophie’s relief, she wasn’t nominated as chairwoman of the union, with that role going to Ellen instead, who quickly took control of the meeting and laid out the demands that Sophie would provide to Alana the following day.

That night, Sophie barely slept as she replayed the evening’s events in her head, and tried to mentally prepare herself for the following morning. She played and replayed every worst case scenario in her mind- of Alana getting angry, or her laughing in Sophie’s face, or her calling security and having Sophie literally thrown out of the airport- and her underwear falling down for everyone to see…

The following morning, Sophie woke up early and took a long, hot shower, thoroughly removing any body or facial hair before returning to her bedroom to prepare for the day ahead. Even though she would only be applying a light, subtle layer of make-up, Sophie took even more care on her look than she did for her aborted date, making sure her eyeshadow was flattering, but not overbearing, making sure her lipstick wasn't too bright, making sure her nail polish was free from any chips... Once her make-up was done and she was clad in a comfortable bra and thong, Sophie took a deep breath to calm herself before fastening her pristine white blouse, and then zipping herself into her smartest black pencil skirt. Despite her anxiety the previous night, Sophie felt no awkwardness as she slipped her feet into a pair of smart court shoes with a blocky 3” heel, nor did she feel awkward as she grabbed her handbag and left the flat, making her way through the bustling London crowds. She was not ‘dressing up’- she was simply ‘dressing’. They were her clothes that she was wearing, that she had earned the right to wear. No one was going to take that away from her- no one could, not Alana, not her parents, not anyone. She deserved to be seen as a woman just as much as any of the other women she passed on the street, or any of her colleagues that she passed as she entered the employee-only area of Heathrow airport- all of whom gave her supportive thumbs-ups en route to Alana’s office.

“Come in,” Alana said as Sophie knocked on her door, before entering and standing in front of her with a neutral expression on her face and a plain white envelope in her hands. “Oh- hello Sophie, I thought you didn’t have a flight today?”

“I- I don’t,” Sophie replied, clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering with nerves. “I’m here to give you this.”

“What is it?” Alana asked as she took the envelope from her employee.

“It’s a list of demands,” Sophie said stoically. “I am here on behalf of the newly-formed Soixante-Trois Airlines Employees’ Union. Following what happened last week, and your reaction to it, we have decided that things need to change. We want a complete overhaul of the uniform code including the removal of the ‘commuting attire’ regulations, we want additional safeguarding measures on place in flights, including but not limited to CCTV throughout all areas of the planes, including non-passenger areas, we want the maximum age of flight attendants to be raised to at least 35, and we want greater sanctions to be taken against passengers who are found to have committed unacceptable passenger behaviour.”

“…I see,” Alana said in a quiet, almost timid voice as she read Sophie’s letter. “And what will happen if we don’t meet these demands?”

“We are prepared to take industrial action,” Sophie replied with a gulp.

“All of you?” Alana asked.

“Enough of us,” Sophie replied. “Enclosed in that envelope is a list of the names of all of the employees who have joined the union. All 87 of us.”

“…I’ll need to put this to management,” Alana said.

“Please do,” Sophie said. “And please do take this seriously, because we’re serious about wanting change.”

“I can tell,” Alana said, before sighing. “Sophie, this- this isn’t a bad place to work. Every airline requires their staff to wear a uniform. Every flight attendant has to deal with unruly customers. And every airline is only established with one goal in mind- to make profit. You and the rest of your union are paid much better than you would be at, say, Virgin or Emirates. Not to mention the ‘other’ thing…”

“What oth- oh,” Sophie said. “THAT other thing.” The untrue notion that Soixante-Trois are the only airline that would even think of employing transgender cabin crew, Sophie thought to herself.

“Yes, THAT other thing,” Alana said, before sighing and gesturing for Sophie to sit down. “Sophie, you- you know I used to be a flight attendant myself, right? For the airline, I started in 2005 and have been lucky to be here ever since.”

“Back then, did you have to wear a uniform like the ones we have to wear?” Sophie asked.

“No I didn’t,” Alana conceded. “But I would’ve done if I’d been asked. Just as back then, I didn’t have any transgender colleagues, but I would’ve worked alongside them if I’d been asked.”

“…What difference would it have made if your colleagues had been transgender?” Sophie asked, trying to keep her anger under control.

“Well, umm, it-“ Alana stammered. “It would’ve just been different, that’s all.”

“…You’ve been a manager here for almost four years,” Sophie said. “In all that time, have you ever noticed any difference between those of us who were born female and those who weren’t?” Because in two years, I haven’t, Sophie thought to herself.

“Well, umm, not really,” Alana mumbled.

“And in all that time,” Sophie continued, “have the number of unacceptable passenger behaviour reports increased, or decreased?”

“…They’ve increased,” Alana replied. “Look, Sophie, if you- if you want more shifts, I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

“It’s not just about me,” Sophie said.

“Well- fine,” Alana sighed. “I WILL pass this along to senior management, Sophie, I promise. But you need to think carefully about what you do next, because things could get a lot worse for you.”

“One of my very best friends was assaulted on a flight last week,” Sophie said quietly. “I can’t see how things could get any worse than that.”

“…I’ll get back to you soon,” Alana said.

“We will be chasing this up if you don’t,” Sophie retorted, before sighing as she left the office. Sophie took several deep breaths to calm herself as she strode through the concourse of the vast airport, before finally letting out a loud sigh as she was greeted by her French friend.

“Is it done?” Amelie asked.

“Yep,” Sophie replied. “If it hasn’t hit the fan, it’s definitely on its way to it, heh.”

“If, hits- fan?” Amelie asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

“Ah- sorry, keep forgetting you don’t know a lot of English slang,” Sophie sighed. “Umm… There’s no undoing what we’ve done.” Much like there’s no way of undoing ‘Sophie’, Sophie thought to herself, though she mused that if she had the opportunity to live the previous two years all over again, she wouldn’t change a single thing.

The weekend passed quietly for Sophie as she anxiously awaited her manager’s response. Amy and Hayley both had flights on Saturday and Sunday, while Rachel remained at her parents’ house, leaving Sophie at a loose end. She tried to occupy her time by writing her second book, but every time she tried to put her thoughts into words, she couldn't shake the situation with the airline from her mind- along with the nagging feeling that it might be the beginning of the end of her time as a flight attendant…

On Monday morning, Sophie received a phone call from the airport, though as she expected, it wasn’t to tell her that a shift had become available, but that Alana wished to meet with her. As she had on Friday, Sophie ensured that her look was smart, professional and effortlessly feminine before she headed to the airport. As with Friday, though, Sophie was shaking with nerves as she approached the office, even though she had the chairwoman of the union with her for support.

“Thank you for coming,” Alana said stoically as Sophie and Ellen sat down opposite her. “I have passed your requests on to senior management, who have reviewed them and are prepared to offer the following compromise.”

“We’re listening,” Ellen said stoically.

“We are prepared to offer all cabin crew working in the London hub a 3.5% pay rise, effective from the end of this month,” Alana said, bringing confused looks to both Sophie and Ellen’s faces.

“Umm, but we didn’t make any demands about pay,” Ellen said.

“Like you so often remind us, our pay is great,” Sophie said. “Our demands are concerning the uniform code and working conditions.”

“Yes,” Alana said. “But management have reviewed the situation and believe that a pay rise of 3.5% is more than generous and should easily cover any concerns that you have.”

“Will it compensate Rachel for what happened to her?” Sophie asked, silencing her manager. “I didn’t think so.”

“The uniform code is too set in stone, too well-established to alter now,” Alana said. “If we alter it for everyone in London, we’ll have to alter it for everyone in Paris and Berlin as well.”

“That’s the idea,” Ellen said.

“But your union doesn’t speak for anyone from Paris or Berlin,” Alana retorted. “Take the 3.5% and be grateful, especially you, Sophie.”

“Wh- why me, exactly?” Sophie asked.

“Because- because the uniform code was designed to help transgender girls,” Alana explained. “To help you feel more feminine, more glamorous.”

“I don’t-“ Sophie said, before taking a deep breath and speaking from the heart. “I don’t need tight corsets, stockings and suspenders, tight skirts or extra-high stiletto heels to feel more feminine, just as neither or you two do. I only need myself to be who I truly am on the inside.”

“And yet you’re sat there in a tight skirt and high heels,” Alana retorted.

“But I don’t wear this all the time,” Sophie shot back. “And I AM Sophie all of the time. I don’t suddenly turn back into ‘James’ simply because I take off the uniform. Nor do any of the other women who work here. And that’s exactly what we all are- women. Not just transwomen, not some form of fetishist sissies, but women. End of story.” Sophie sat back in her chair, her heart swelling with pride as her friend smiled at her, as if to confirm that even though Ellen had been born female, Sophie was as much a woman as she was.

“Will you be willing to negotiate with us about any of our demands or not?” Ellen asked sternly.

“We will not,” Alana replied. “The 3.5% is our offer, and it is our only offer. Your requests for a review of the uniform code and other operating procedures are denied.”

“Well, then,” Ellen said. “It is my duty as chairwoman of the union to inform you that last night, we took a vote, in which 64 out of the 87 of us voted to reject any offer from management that did not include a review of any of our demands. As such, you leave us no choice. As of today, Monday the third of June 2019, the members of this union are officially on strike.”

TO BE CONTINUED