Seven Dresses - The Fourth Dress by Maeryn Lamonte Copyright © 2023 Following Michael's embarrassing dream, Aunt Miranda has ideas on a few things that need to be done. The first involves a visit to a doctor and third a meeting with Michael's mum, for which (secondly) he rather urgently needs something special to wear. For those of you who opened they third chapter early, please go back to it. I moved some text from the beginning of this chapter to the end of the last, so you may miss some relevant information if you just read on from here.

-oOo-

The First Dress I Bought

“Morning sleepyhead.” Chaney’s melodic voice preceded her through the door. “Mum says you couldn’t sleep with my snoring.”

“No it...” Her smile, toned down to kilowatts, told me she was kidding. “It’s kind of embarrassing,” I finished with a rueful grin.

“It’s fine.” She had two mugs of tea in her hands, one of which she gave to me before plonking herself on the bed and nearly causing me to spill it. “Oops, sorry. I just wanted to check you’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, like I say, embarrassed is all.”

“Well, Mum says to come down when you’re ready, and you may like to check under the pillow before you do.”

“What time is it?” It was always hard to tell in summer. The sun came up at some ridiculous time like four or five o’clock, then it was down to the quality of the light. I’d never got the knack, but it felt later than it should have been.

“It’s half past eight.”

“But, weren’t we supposed to be up before this? I thought your mum left for the office around seven thirty.”

“We were, she does, but after last night she’s decided to take some of the day off. Like I said, Mum says come down when you’re ready and don’t...”

“Forget to check under my pillow. What’s that about?”

She made a doh face. “You could try checking under your pillow.”

I lifted it out the way to reveal a small plastic rectangle and a folded slip of paper.

“Dearest Michelle,” I read out loud. “It gets busy in tooth fairy land and sometimes we have to delegate our responsibilities. It’s just been brought to my attention that one of your pickups was passed on to a grouchy old ogre who didn’t complete his mission as instructed. You can rest assured that he won’t be asked to collect teeth for us ever again. In the meantime, I hope this makes up for your unfortunate experience. Yours in kindness, Tooth Fairy Customer Relations.”

Chaney held up a piece of plastic of her own and turned up the wattage on her smile. Either I was developing an immunity or I was learning not to interpret friendship as anything else. Whatever the reason, Little Id didn’t respond. Of course he could still have been tired out after his part in the dream, but I didn’t want to think about that.

“What are they?” I asked picking mine up. I mean I knew what they looked like, but...

“They’re prepaid credit cards. Mum’s firm uses them to pay out bonuses and incentives. She tends to save them up for summer. Whatever Lonny and I don’t get through buying clothes and stuff, we spend on holiday. They have the prepaid amount printed on them here. See? Mum’s given me two hundred quid to spend.”

I looked at mine and blinked. It had an extra digit.

“Yes, Peter, I do understand that it’s inconvenient, but this is a matter of priorities, and you know that when it comes to priorities my family always comes first... Look, Linda can handle the deposition this morning. I’ll be in by eleven, no make that half past, and we can sort out the rest of what needs to be done from there... No, I know it means we’re going to have to put that back a day, but we have the time... No, I can hear you’re not happy Peter, and I'm Sorry about that. I’ll see you in a while and you can take as much time as you like telling me how unhappy you are. Goodbye, Peter.”

She stabbed at the phone and checked it was off before muttering a few unsavoury words. I peeked tentatively into the kitchen, empty mug in hand.

“Morning Michelle. How did you sleep?”

“Fine thank you. I mean, after...”

“That’s what I meant, love. Breakfast? We have orange juice, more tea if you want, your uncle makes a mean muesli which I cannot recommend highly enough. We have fruit and yogurt to go with it, or we have a five seed spelt loaf I can toast for you.”

“Muesli sounds great thanks, and some OJ. I, er, there has to be some mistake.” I offered up the prepaid card.

“What, a thousand pounds not enough for you?”

“No, I mean I don’t know how much Mum spends on my clothes but it can’t be this much.”

“Except we’re going to have to get you kitted out from the bottom up, or from the inside out. Those dresses your cousin’s donated are a start, but you’ll need a lot more than that. Speaking of which, Chaney’s cleared out the right side of her closet and we agreed you could have first pick on those things.”

“Dad’ll never agree to this.”

“He already did, don’t you remember? I buy you what I think you need and, as long as Chaney’s virtue remains intact, he pays double what we spend and apologises to you.”

“But he never agreed to buying me girl clothes.”

“He never stipulated that they shouldn’t be. My discretion what’s appropriate.”

“He’ll go ballistic. All the more so when he finds out how much.”

“I know. Unexpected bonus, don’t you think? Now come on, eat up. I have you booked in to see a doctor at half nine, so we need to be up and dressed and out of here in half an hour.”

“A doctor? Is something wrong with me?”

“No sweetie, but I’m hoping he’ll be able to prevent that from happening. It’s nothing to worry about, you’ll see. Now eat up and get a move on.”

-oOo-

We made it out of the house five minutes late which is pretty good going for me but apparently unheard of for Miranda’s girls, so we arrived at the rather posh doctor’s surgery with ten minutes to spare.

“This isn’t the NHS,” I observed from the absence of any NHS logos anywhere.

“No dear. You don’t think I could arrange an appointment so quickly through the NHS, do you?”

“Dad says private’s way too expensive. He won’t pay for this.”

“Luckily, he doesn’t have to. Your Uncle Richard agrees. This is something we’re going to do for you.”

“But...”

“The proper response is, ‘thank you Aunt Miranda.’ Now get out of the car before we are late.”

I managed to mumble my thanks and climbed out of the car, careful to keep everything covered. I’d had a quick look through Chaney’s discards and, on a whim, had grabbed a gipsy top and denim skirt, which had turned out to be a little shorter than I’d anticipated. Lonny’s sandals were getting another outing along with a shoulder bag Chaney had thrust at me, which currently held my phone and wallet, complete with the prepaid credit card. Chaney had decided to meet us in town after the doctor’s appointment, so it was just my aunt and me.

We’d barely sat down when a nurse called us through to meet a kindly middle aged gentleman, lean but jowly with one of those bald patches that left a horse shoe crescent of hair over the ears. Fortunately, he wasn’t vain enough to try a comb over. I’ve never been able to take people who do that seriously.

“So, Michelle,” he said leaning forward in a friendly, avuncular manner, “or Michael as I understand your parents refer to you.”

I looked nervously across at my aunt who smiled reassuringly.

“Doctor Prendergast is a specialist in gender issues Michelle. I spoke to him about your situation this morning. I apologise if you see that as a breach of trust, but the doctor needed a little information before he would agree to today’s appointment.”

“And now I need a little more information from you, young lady. Would I be correct in assuming you prefer to be referred to as such?”

“Er, yes. I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“Yes. This is all very new to me.”

“I understand it started two days ago.”

“Yes. Well, er, no, not really.” I glanced at Aunt Miranda again.

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation in private. just you and me, eh? Your aunt can wait in the er, the waiting room.”

“No! I mean, no. My aunt can stay if she wants. I mean, I’d like her to stay.”

“It’s all right Shelley.” My aunt stood up. “I could do with making a few phone calls in any case.”

“So, perhaps you’d like to start at the beginning. I know you may find this a little embarrassing, but the more you can tell me and the more honest you are, the better able I will be to help you. And it is entirely confidential. As your doctor, I will not share any details of what you say to me with anyone, including your aunt, without you first giving me permission.”

“Even though she’s paying?”

“Even though she’s paying.

“So, when you’re ready.”

It took the best part of an hour. I covered pretty much everything from my parents’ reaction, especially my dad’s, when I was really young, to all the little things that had been a part of my life since the tooth fairy incident, to the events of the previous few days.

“I understand something happened last night,” he said when I thought I’d finished.

“What do you mean?” I asked, though I could feel the blush rising up my neck.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Very much a part of the trials of teenage boyhood. Something all boys go through, including myself a great many years ago. What I’m interested in is the subject matter of the dream. I see it embarrassed you a great deal, so if you feel you cannot tell me...”

“No, it’s alright.”

And so, with my ears burning, I told him all the details I could remember.

“You have feelings for your cousin?”

“Well, she has a really nice smile.”

“But how does she make you feel?”

“Confused a lot of the time. I mean we’ve been friends for more years than I can remember. She always used to joke that I was more girly than she was.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Kind of warm inside. Like she saw something in me that nobody else did. I mean, you know.” I lifted myself off the seat briefly to smooth my skirt under me. I’d been holding my legs together for the best part of an hour and parts of me were past feeling uncomfortable.

“Did your cousin ever suggest that you should put on any of her clothes?”

“No. I mean, the way she usually dresses I wouldn’t have looked much different anyway.”

“Your other cousin perhaps? Lonny I believe?”

“Lonny’s quite a lot older. She looked after us sometimes, but she was always more like a grown up than a kid.”

“So, no-one influenced you to do this?”

“I don’t know what you would call influenced. I mean, Chaney suggested I might like to try her bridesmaid’s dress on, but that was only in fun and only because I was making more of a fuss about it than she was. The next morning Aunt Miranda suggested I might be more comfortable in Chaney’s summer dress than my suit.”

“She said this to you?”

“Not exactly. Chaney told me her mum had suggested it and neither Uncle Richard nor Aunt Miranda seemed at all surprised when I decided to try it.

“My aunt has made it very clear all along that this was something I could choose to do if I wanted, and I really do want to “

“No second thoughts?”

“I’m terrified of being found out. My aunt says it’s something that’s going to happen sooner or later.”

“Yet despite the terror and your aunt's warning, you still choose to present yourself in this manner?”

“It's hard to explain. I feel... I suppose I feel right like this.”

“How do you feel about boys?”

“They scare me.”

He gave off a brief choked laugh. “I am dreadfully sorry. I haven’t heard that response before. Perhaps you would elaborate? Explain further?”

“I know what elaborate means,” I said a little testily, though I'm not sure how much of it was because of the laugh. “I suppose I'm scared of what they might do if they found out I was actually a boy under all this.”

“You are not so worried about what girls might do if they made the same discovery?”

“I don't think so.”

“Why is that, do you think?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s easier to imagine guys being unpleasant.”

“Because this has been largely your experience. Your father bullies you and your aunt and cousin are supportive.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Can you think of a time that a girl has been unkind to you?”

“There are a couple at school who pick on me, and I’ve been turned down by pretty much everyone I asked out.”

“How many would that be?”

“I don’t know. Maybe two?”

“Were they girls you were attracted to?”

“Not so much, but all the other guys were pairing up. I figured it was something boys did.”

“So why did you stop after just two?”

“It hurt too much. Being rejected, you know?”

He offered a sympathetic smile. “And apart from your father, how do you get on with other...” he shrugged, “males?”

“Well my Uncle Richard is pretty cool.”

“Friends at school?”

“A lot of a-holes. I get picked on quite a bit.”

“Because?”

“I’m kind of little, though my mum says it’s because I’m smarter than them.”

“Another supportive female influence in your life. Might it be possible that your desire to be a girl stems from your having a positive view of women and a negative one of men?”

I wanted to deny it straight away, but something stopped me. I tugged at my lower lip for a while and gave it some serious thought.

“I don’t think so,” I said at last. “I mean, you’re probably right, it helps, but this was inside me before I had any idea what my parents thought about it. I asked to be a girl before I knew how my dad would react. I’ve kind of felt like I’ve been sneaking peaks at the life I should have had since then, and burying myself in being a boy.

“You know that practical joke thing, snake-in-a-can?”

The doctor shook his head.

“It looks like a tube of Pringles, only when you pop the lid off, this sort of spring-loaded snake thing jumps out of it. When I look back at all of my life before yesterday, that’s what it's felt like. Like I’ve been jammed into this space that felt all cramped and awkward, and now the lid’s been taken off, I don’t see how I can go back to the way things were.”

“Alright, thank you Michelle. I think we have spoken enough for one session. It’s time to invite your aunt to join us again if you don’t mind.”

I didn’t, so, following the inevitable short delay while Miranda finished the call she was on, we reconvened.

“Well, once again Miranda, your instincts are right on the money. It seems very likely you have a niece rather than a nephew. Now, if you’d be good enough to let me have Michael's parents’ phone number, I’ll be glad to explain my findings to them as well as their options for the future.”

“What? That’s not how this was... Can’t you just give me a prescription for him?”

“Not without parental consent, Miranda, which you know full well, being a lawyer and all that.”

“This is serious, Philip! You know what last night means.”

“Of course I do Miranda. Unlike you apparently, I don't forget my professional standards when the situation becomes inconvenient.”

“I am his aunt, and his godmother. Surely that counts for something.”

“Miranda...”

“Couldn't you just jot down the name of a drug and an appropriate dose and leave it somewhere I could see it?”

“Miranda stop! You know how much trouble that would put you in.”

“Yes, but this is a crucial time.”

“I agree, and you did the right thing coming to see me as soon as you did, but a day or two more at this stage isn't going to make any difference. We need to talk to Michael's parents.”

“You heard for yourself what his father's like.”

“I did, but you know as well as I do where the law stands on this. Michael's parents have legal responsibility for him so these are their decisions to make.”

“They're obliged to act in Michaels best interests though, which is precisely what I'm trying to do. If my brother decides to be awkward about it he could end up tying this thing up in the courts for months, and...” She petered out.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. I'd been watching the exchange bounce back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match, but I hadn’t understood a lot of it.”

“That dream of yours last night,” my aunt said. “It’s an indication that you’re starting puberty.”

I looked blank. Sex ed was never a lesson where I paid much attention, possibly because I preferred to live in denial on that particular matter.

“Puberty is when your body starts to mature sexually,” the doctor took over the explanation. “In your case, it will be producing a lot of testosterone which will result in your body changing and taking on a more adult masculine appearance. There are drugs that can prevent, or potentially delay, these changes...”

“I want them,” I said.

“I’m sure you do, but that’s the issue. I cannot prescribe them without your parents’ consent. Your aunt doesn’t have the legal standing to do this on your behalf.”

“Dad’ll never agree,” I said, suddenly very worried.

“Which is why we’ll be starting off with your mother.” Aunt Miranda stood. “Philip, thank you again, both for fitting Michael in so quickly and for keeping me from doing something inordinately stupid.”

Dr Prendergast stood and held out his hand. “Miranda, your passion is what makes you so good at what you do. If you need reigning in a little from time to time, I'm always happy to oblige.

“Michelle, I wish you luck, although with an advocate like your aunt here, I doubt you'll need much.”

Miranda strode out of the surgery with a purpose, leaving me to trot along in her wake, pulling at the hem of my too short skirt.

“Where are we going?” I asked from somewhere behind her.

“Don’t tug at it, dear. You’ll have people wondering. We’re going shopping.”

“Okay. I thought I was supposed to be doing that with Chaney.”

“You are, but there’s one thing we need to get you before I go into work.”

“What’s that?” I climbed into the car and buckled up.

“You’ll see. “ She glanced across and down. “This might be an appropriate time to sort out your hemline though.”

-oOo-

We were close enough to home that we could have picked Chaney up, except she’d decided to go in early to get a head start, whatever that meant. Miranda texted her to set up a rendezvous then drove us fifteen minutes or so to park in the high-street near to a deceptively small shop.

Glad Rags it said over the door and the variety and quality of the dresses on display was breath-taking, especially so given the limited space.

A bell jangled cheerfully as we stepped inside. My aunt bore down on the tiny shop girl standing behind the counter so forcefully, I could see her eyes widening in terror.

“My niece needs to look magnificent tonight. What do you have?” Miranda barked out, causing her quarry to glance about her, looking for somewhere to escape. Fortunately for her, the curtain at the back of the shop twitched aside and a slim woman of about the same age as my aunt stepped through.

“Miranda, what an unexpected surprise. How long has it been?”

“Too long, Christine, and that’s entirely my fault.”

“Well, I’ll thank you not to scare my staff. Good help is so hard to find these days and I’d really like to keep this one.” She smiled at the diminutive shop assistant, giving her leave to escape the encounter.

“You must be doing well for yourself if you can afford to take on shop girls.”

“Yes. I have a partner now and a regular section in the Miller and Stone catalogue.”

“Oh Christine! Not you too! I would have thought you at least would have had the integrity not to be enticed by the corporate world.”

“You just want the snob value of being able to parade about in a bespoke piece of haute couture, and don’t you dare talk to me about being a corporate sell-out, you Jezebel.”

Miranda laughed out loud, joined by her evident long time friend. “I’ve missed you, Christine. So tell me about this new partner of yours.”

“You’ll never guess, not in a million years.” She pulled the curtain aside. “Alison, would you come out here a moment please.”

Miranda’s expression turned to shock then delight as a slender and very pretty girl stepped through, smiling like the sun.

“Alison Turner, as I live and breathe, and in a dress too, no less. One of yours, Christine, unless I miss my guess?”

“Actually, one of her own.”

“No!”

Alison nodded and ducked her head to hide the blush forming there.

“Well, you’re just the person I need.” My aunt stepped to one side revealing me standing self-consciously behind her skirts. “This is my niece, Michelle. She has something very important happening tonight, and she needs to look her absolute best. Do you have any suggestions?”

Alison gave me a critical once over then held out a hand. Still a little nonplussed, I took it and allowed myself to be led into a changing room.

“I have an idea,” she said, “but I imagine you’d like to try a few things on first?”

I nodded.

“Anything in particular?”

I pointed out a few dresses I’d spotted during my aunt’s rather loud exchange with the shop-owner.

“You have a good eye,” Alison said. “Just promise you won’t make your mind up till I’ve shown you what I have in mind.”

I nodded again. Somehow, I’d completely lost the capacity for speech.

The next half hour had me trying on one dress after another. I loved them all until I caught sight of the three-figure price tag. I was staring at the ticket on one when Alison swept through the curtain so swiftly it was almost magic. I turned away from her, but not, I think, before she caught sight of the bulge in my underwear.

Her expression softened to something between sad and sympathetic, but she didn’t say anything. Not about what she might have seen anyway.

“This is what I had in mind,” she said, offering me something with way too little fabric. “It’s stitched onto a leotard so you don’t have to worry about exposing anything embarrassing. There’s a pair of tights goes with it, though in this weather you may prefer to go without. Why don’t you give it a try?”

She did a sort of reverse swirl and was gone.

I climbed into it and felt it settle about me, feeling it almost become a part of me. The leotard hugged me like a friend, the ragged skirt, despite only falling to my thighs, belled out around my hips giving me a far more feminine figure. With the back zipped up, a sheer layer stretched gently over my shoulders and arms and discrete pieces of padding in the bodice hinted at budding breasts I didn’t have.

I tried lifting the skirt to see what showed underneath, but it comprised such a tangle of material that it was impossible to see any details of what lay there.

It offset my pixie cut perfectly just as the deep blackberry colour matched my complexion.

Eyes shining, and with my own piece of the sun radiating from my smile, I stepped out of the changing room and gave a delighted twirl.

“It’s a little bit Tinkerbell, don’t you think?” Miranda asked, breaking the silence.

“I could do something about that if you like,” Alison said, but she was grinning. She looked at me and raised her arms.

I copied her gesture to find the sheer material that made up the sleeves connected to the sides of the dress, forming something very like wings.

“I love it,” I said.

“I can’t deny you look adorable,” Miranda said, “ but it’s still more of a Halloween costume than an every day dress. I mean, would you walk out of here wearing it, Shelley?”

There was enough of a little girl still in me that I really wanted to, but she was right. It felt like a light going out.

“Give me a moment,” Alison said and ducked back behind the counter and into the workroom. When she returned, she held a strip of heavier material in a slightly lighter shade. Precisely what she did with it I couldn't tell you, but less than a minute later she had it pinned to the dress in a way that covered the short, ragged skirt with a far more elegant one that fell in loose pleats to just above my knees. The shape of it still conveyed the impression of broader hips and a narrower waist.

“It’ll take me no time to make this up into a wrap skirt,” Alison said. “You'd be able to wear either as separate pieces or both together as you wanted.”

“Well, I won't deny you look irresistible in it. I'm not sure it'll look as good once you've grown your hair a little though.”

“Why don't we find out,” Mrs Turner said. She picked up a wig from a nearby display and settled it onto my head.

I loved the feel of long hair cascading down my back, and just like that my smile was back.

We left the shop twenty minutes later with the promise that the alterations and embellishments would be finished by the end of the afternoon. My prepaid credit card had taken a significant hit, despite Alison giving me a generous discount – much to her mother's disgust. It still had a lot of spending left in it though.

Miranda left me in Chaney's capable and highly excited hands and I spent the next few hours in a whirlwind tour of just about every shop in the high-street. Every shop, that is, that had just about anything to do with clothing.

By the time we were due to meet up with Chaney's mother back at Glad Rags, I'd just about worn out the shoes I was wearing, or at least that's what it felt like. The two of us staggered down the high street buried under so many bags and boxes, I had serious misgivings about where we were going to put them all.

Miranda’s SUV was up to the challenge though. We packed out the luggage space in the back, and left the car creaking under its burden.

The final fitting took a lot longer than i expected. So many last nips and tucks and minor alterations. Apparently, all part of the service, but I desperately wanted to sit down. It was worth it though. In addition to the skirt, Alison had also found time to put together a short cape that added an element of elegance to the whole thing.

“I'm almost envious, cuz,” Chaney said as we both climbed into the back of the car.

“Almost?”

“I could just about be persuaded to wear a dress if it came from that place.”

“I'll bear that in mind next time we have a wedding to go to,” her mum said as we pulled out into the heavy end of day traffic. “Chaney, you and your dad will be fending for yourselves this evening. Michelle and I have somewhere to go.”

“What happened to decadent dinner?”

“It'll have to wait till tomorrow. This is something that can't.”

“Where are we going?” I wanted to know.

“Quite a long way,” came the cryptic response. “We’ll grab a snack at home first, and you may want to bring your phone charger with you.”

-oOo-

Wherever Aunt Miranda was taking me, it was a long way. Certainly long enough for me to get bored of the games on my phone, and since I didn't really have any friends to text, I dropped my technobrick into my handbag – one of the day’s many new purchases. The handbag, I mean – and looked out the window at the countryside sailing past. I didn't mind that I had nothing to do. Just wearing the dress was experience enough to keep me stimulated.

I'd opted to wear the tights despite the warm weather and I loved how they felt. Also, Alison had found the time to line both the skirt and the cape which meant they were deliciously cool against my skin. I found myself wondering why guys would willingly forgo the pleasures of wearing such clothes.

My aunt glanced across at me and offered me a penny for my thoughts. I told her and she laughed.

“I've come to the conclusion that men are their own worst enemies,” she said. “They don't communicate a lot of the time, which means it's nigh on impossible to figure out what they're thinking, for us as much as for them, then they worry so much about what the guys around them are thinking that they're afraid of trying anything new. So afraid that, when one of them does have the guts to experiment, they can’t even acknowledge the good ideas.”

“Is Uncle Richard like that?”

“He's better than most. In a way, I think one of the more important things a guy gets out of a relationship with a woman is someone to confide in, someone to trust. It doesn't mean he tells me everything, not by a long shot, but he will be honest if I notice something bothering him and ask about it.”

“Dad's not like that.”

“Don't I know it! Men like him are probably the biggest part of the problem. He's opinionated and vocal – in love with the sound of his own voice, as our mum used to tell me. There are enough guys around who’re grateful to have someone like in their circle of friends because it means they don’t have to make up their own minds what they should be thinking, only what they're hearing is the biggest load of bull-crap out there. Anybody bright enough to spot that just avoids him, so he never has an opportunity to learn just how much of a tool he's being.”

“Except when you're around.”

She snorted. “He is my brother. Someone has to look out for him, and those he's likely to hurt.” She rested a hand briefly on my arm. “Nearly there.” She nodded at a small village in the valley ahead.

“What are we doing here?”

“We’re meeting someone I hope will be able to help. Do you trust me?”

“I’ve come out into the middle of nowhere with you wearing a dress. Do you really need to ask?”

“Fair point. Just remember that in a few minutes, won't you?”

Way to make me feel uneasy, Aunt Miranda.

“We’re a little early,” she said as we pulled up into a pub car park. “You go find a table in the garden while I grab us a couple of drinks. What would you like?”

“Erm, orange juice and lemonade please.”

The garden was about half full, and quite a few heads turned my way as I chose a table with an umbrella and sat facing the pub. I only managed to control my nerves by telling myself it was the dress they were looking at and not me.

There was no cure for them a few minutes later when a familiar face appeared at the garden entrance walking alongside my aunt.

I stood as they approached, noting the confused and worried look on the newcomer’s face.

“Hello Mum,” I said, just about keeping the quaver out of my voice.

“Michael?”

“I, er, prefer Michelle just now, if you don't mind.”

“Your father is not going to like this.”

I gulped and took a breath. “He’s going to have to get used to it, Mum. Is he, er, is he here?”

“No, thank God. Monday night’s his darts night.”

Of course it was. I breathed a sigh of relief. I certainly wasn’t in a state of mind to face him at that moment.

“What's this all about, Miranda?” It occurred to me that my mother had never addressed that question to me if there had been someone else to talk to about it. It left me with something of a sinking feeling.

“Let's order,” my aunt said. “I don't know about anyone else, but I'm famished.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted anything. I mean, I’d been ravenous before I'd set eyes on my mum, but the feelings curdling in my stomach didn't leave much room for appetite.

“What do you fancy, Shell?” Miranda asked.

“I don't know. I’m not that hungry.”

“Nonsense. You have to be starving after today. I seem to remember you like scampi.”

“Sure. That sounds good, thank you.”

“Comes with peas and chips.” I nodded. “How about you, Jane?”

“I couldn't possibly...”

“Chicken salad then. I'll go and order. Just be a moment.”

It was a long moment and an awkward one. I stared at the table in front of me, feeling Mum's eyes boring into the top of my skull. Suddenly, I wasn’t upset anymore. I was angry. I looked up into her eyes ready for an argument. I wasn’t ready for the tears though.

“Mum?”

“You look very pretty, darling.” Her voice was on the edge of breaking.

I stood up and moved round to her side of the table, sat next to her and leaned gently against her. I could feel tears prickling at the back of my eyes.

“Is this really what you want?” she asked.

“It’s... I don't know, Mum. It feels like something I need.”

“You probably won't remember, but when you were four or five you asked if you could wear a dress.”

Of course I bloody well remembered.

“There have been times I wondered if it ever really went away. The way you'd look sideways at certain shop windows, the way you looked at girls, the way you always wanted to play with them...

“Your father really is not going to be happy.”

I didn’t know what to say so I simply leaned into her.

She sniffed and straightened a little. I backed off and looked at her face, at the ruin her tears had made of her makeup.

“I think maybe we should pay a visit to the ladies, Mum “

“You go into the ladies?”

“Where else should I go, Mum? I mean, I think I'm more likely to cause a scene if I go to the little boy’s room.”

“But there will be women there.”

“Yes, and if the doctor I met this morning knows what he’s talking about, I’m one of them.”

“What?”

“Well, a girl in any case, now we really should get you somewhere where you can fix your face.”

“What?” She scrabbled in her bag for a moment and pulled out a compact. “Oh my gosh!” She stood up. “Stay there,” she said and hurried off towards the pub entrance, passing Aunt Miranda on the way out.

“That’s a shame,” my aunt said, retaking her seat. “We come all this way, the least I was hoping for was a good argument. What did you say to her?”

“Nothing... Much. I mean, she said most of it herself. I just kind of suggested we go sort her out in the ladies. She didn’t particularly like that idea so I may have sort of, you know, mentioned what the doctor said this morning.”

“Just what did you tell her?”

“You know, that I'm really a girl?”

“Oh. That's not too bad.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means we need your mother on our side, so we’ll be better off not springing any surprises on her.”

“Like what?”

“Like telling her that I took you for a consultation over a non-life-threatening condition that she has no idea exists.”

“She has an idea.”

“Does she?”

“She was telling me about all the little things I’ve done that gave me away. I mean, not so she actually knew what was happening, but she’s had her suspicions.”

“Alright. The thing is you said you trusted me, Shelley. I need you to trust me now and let me do the talking.”

“Alright.”

I sipped at my orange juice and lemonade and waited, then, after my mother returned, sat in silence while my aunt very cautiously addressed the elephant in the room, or garden or whatever.

She gave an accurate account of what had happened over the previous couple of days with me nodding a confirmation every now and again.

Food arrived part way through and I was hungry enough to dig into mine while my mum and my aunt carried on talking over theirs.

I ate daintily, of course. For one, I didn’t want to risk spilling anything on my dress, for another, it just felt right to do so. I caught Mum watching me out of the corner of her eye, which made me realise just how obvious I must have been for all those years.

I was done and sitting patiently with my hands folded in my lap when Miranda reached the end of her presentation.

“And you're sure this is really what you want, dear?” Mum asked me.

I glanced at my aunt who nodded.

“It’s hard to be sure right now, Mum. I mean I've felt like I've been squashed out of shape all my life, or at least since that time when I asked about wearing a dress. Then this weekend I had an opportunity to get away from all that and, even though it's only been two days, I can't see myself going back.”

“Even once your dad finds out? Because he will.”

“I'm not looking forward to that, it's true, but I'm done doing what he says just because he thinks it's right. This is my life, and this feels entirely right for me.”

“At the moment, dear, but what about when the novelty wears off?”

I shrugged. “I really don't know. Maybe I will want to go back to the way I was. It definitely doesn't feel like it right now, but a lot of things can change.”

“The thing is, Jane,” Miranda chipped in, “one of the things that is going to change very soon is Michael’s body. He's showing signs of puberty beginning, which means that quite possibly in the next few weeks his body will start to take on more male characteristics. He'll begin to look more like a man.”

“Well there you are then. Problem solved.”

“No Mum, very definitely not problem solved. It's not going to change the way I feel inside. I'll still feel like a girl, but I won't look like one anymore. You think I've been miserable before now, just wait till that happens.”

“The doctor who saw him this morning agrees. He's prepared to prescribe a course of blockers which will hold off the effects of puberty. If Michael changes his mind over this, all he has to do is stop taking the pills and his masculine body will develop as nature directs, just a little late. If Michelle doesn't change her mind it'll mean that she'll be in a far better position to choose a course of treatment that will help her become the woman she is inside. We’re just looking for a stay of execution here, just until we know what's right.”

“That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?”

“Mum. Imagine you’re a girl of my age again. You've been told that unless you have a certain treatment, your body is going to change, make you tall, strong, hairy, and a lot less pretty unless you take a particular course of treatment, and after the change happens there's no going back. Would you want your parents to allow the treatment?”

“Well of course I would. No girl would want to end up looking like a man.”

“Neither does this one Mum. Mummy, please.”

“Derek would never agree.”

“Why do you think I asked to see you, Jane? It only needs the permission of one parent. It is even possible to force that permission if it's seen as being in the best interests of the child, but that would take time I'm very much afraid we don't have.”

“You're certain this is reversible?”

“Absolutely.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Thank you, Jane.” Miranda pulled some papers out of her very sizeable handbag and passed them over. “This one is a letter granting permission for Michael to take the blockers. They're the only drugs the doctor recommends at this stage. Read through it, ask any questions you like and, if you’re happy, sign and date it at the bottom.”

My mum may take a while to make up her mind, but once she has, it's all the way made up. She skimmed the document then made use of Miranda’s pen.

“This one is an optional extra,” Miranda passed a second document. “You don't need to sign this but it could make things easier in the future. It's your permission for me to act in loco parentis. If you're not happy, I can tear it up, but if you sign it I would be in a far stronger position to be able to act On Michael's behalf, and I wouldn't have to involve you first. It could afford us all some additional clout if Derek decides to be unreasonable.”

“I don't know. I don't like going behind his back like this.”

“What you're doing is acting in your son’s best interests, knowing that your husband's point of view in this matter is a little skewed. As I say, we don't need this, but it might help. I hope you know that my first priority is my nephew's well being, and I would do my best to include you in any decision making process.”

“You're right. If Derek does find out about this, he’ll do his best to reverse it all, which will include getting me to change my mind. Miranda, would you do whatever you need to make sure Michael's father can't take this away from him?”

“If you sign that, I'll guarantee it.”

“Alright then. Oh my, this feels so liberating.” She scribbled on the second sheet of paper.

“Thanks Mum.” I gave her a hug. Tears were involved again, but happier ones this time, and Mum had used a much lighter hand when repairing her face, so there was no panicky rush for the loos.

As it was, I did need to go, so I left the two of them chatting and eating while I wandered off to take care of things by myself.