I was making a fresh start. My marriage had ended the year before and I felt uncomfortable in the old family home where we had raised our daughter and I had noticed how old friends were less inclined to call now I was on my own. I was becoming isolated. When my employers had offered me early retirement I almost shouted yes before they had finished the sentence.

I decided this was the perfect opportunity to move on – literally. I sold the house in Wimbledon within 2 weeks of putting it on the market. Thankfully, I had already spotted a property to move to at a reduced price due to it sitting vacant for several months. It was in a village called Hopton in West Suffolk about half an hour’s drive from Bury St Edmunds.

Sorry, I am rambling on without introducing myself. I was christened Emerson Harper but everyone calls me “M” just like the character in the James Bond books which always makes people smile and think I am some head of secret intelligence. Oh that my career had been so action packed! I was a buyer for a chain of department stores, sourcing products from suppliers oversees and ensuring stocks arrived in time and on budget. Yes, dull as dishwater but it paid relatively well and, at the time. a steady income. The move from the high street to on-line sales changed my role significantly and the writing was on the wall when Covid struck and the high street was devastated. My early retirement was a blessing that saved me from probable redundancy.

I managed to sell the house in London “partially furnished” meaning I could keep the few pieces of furniture I wanted and transfer them to the cottage in Suffolk. Moving from a three bedroom townhouse to a single bedroom cottage allowed me to cherry pick the pieces I wanted and leave the others for the new occupant. Initially though I had to put my furniture into storage. The Cottage needed a major clean out and some minor cosmetic works inside and out. I found a local company to undertake the work while I spent a month living in a Travelodge and spending my days driving and walking around the countryside that would be my new home.

I felt a real buzz of excitement when I was eventually handed the keys to my new home. I took a walk down to the village shop once I had settled in and introduced myself to the storeowner. “Good afternoon! I’m Emerson Harper – just moved into Walpole Cottage down the road.” He nodded and thrust out his hand to shake mine. “I know, we’ve been looking forward to your arrival! Been empty too long, that home! Unusual round these parts. Geoff Turner, good to meet you!” he said as he shook my hand “Understand you had an Aunt in Theford?” I frowned to hear a man I had only just met discuss my family history as though it was an open secret. “Great Aunt actually, yes” I managed to stutter and he smiled. “Sorry, you told Derek Clark that when you were buying through his Estate Agency. We’re a small town and details leak out! Folks want to be sure we’re not getting some city slicker moving in who won’t be part of the community!”

I returned Geoff’s smile and said “I need to get myself active in the community so folks know me and I can get to know them!” Geoff pointed to a large notice board on the wall. “Community notice board. Anything people want or need, anything that’s happening or needs support – you’ll find the details here.

“What do you recommend?” I asked as I inspected the notice board. Geoff looked at me for a moment and said “Well, we have a ramblers group who go on walks around the countryside and that’s very popular. Then there’s the chess club if you are a player of the game but I would personally recommend the amateur dramatics society. Meets every Wednesday evening in the village hall. All ages, male and female attend that and they’re always looking for new talent whether its in set design, costume making, acting or directing. You’re not a West End Producer by any chance are you?” I laughed “No, sorry – although I did attend a few shows in my time!”

Geoff’s eyes shone and his smile broadened. “Sounds like you’re the very chap! Why not come along and join us Wednesday at 7pm! Give you a chance to say hello to folks. Don’t worry, we’re well into rehearsals for the next performance so you can be given some minor role in the process and we can break you in gently!” I nodded “Sounds fair! First though, I need the basics! I have a fridge awaiting milk, eggs and butter!” Geoff opened his arms. “My shelves are yours to pillage!”

I smiled as I wandered around the store. It was well provisioned and I found myself filling a basket. Once my freezer was fully ready I would drive down to the supermarket in Bury St Edmunds and do a major shop but for now I had enough fresh vegetables and so forth to knock together a decent first meal in my new home. I settled up with Geoff and as I was leaving he called out “Welcome to Hopton, Emerson. Don’t forget Wednesday night at 7pm!” I turned and smiled “I won’t – and call me M, all my friends do!” Geoff smiled broadly and replied “Take care, M.”

- - -

I spent the next couple of days getting my house in order – moving items around the rooms to where they looked or felt right and taking shears to the little garden out the back which had been untended for several months and had gone native.

I had gone to the supermarket half an hour away and bought multi-packs of food that I could freeze along with cleansing products and suchlike that I could use to maintain my new home. I was beginning to feel it was indeed home now – somewhere away from memories of my failed marriage and the stresses of my working life. This was a new start, a new chapter in my life and one I was ready to explore and enjoy.

I had of course walked around the village in order to appraise myself on what was where. Everyone I passed said hello and good morning or commented on the weather and a couple of them had said “You must be the new owner of Walpole Cottage! Welcome to the village!” which made me realise I was already part of the community even without formal introduction.

I made it a rule that I would visit Geoff’s store every day for milk. I could buy a large container at the supermarket but felt that would not support the village shop which is more convenient when I need something urgently. Of course it also offered fresh fruit and vegetables from local farms and a surprising range of other everyday essentials. Geoff’s welcoming smile and greeting made things feel better too and he would ask how I was settling in and remind me of my appointment with the Hopton Players.

I was a little apprehensive when I first walked into the hall but I was met with a warmth and friendship I had not experienced for many years. Geoff quickly introduced me to the group’s leader and producer Clive who shook my hand warmly and said “Welcome to the madhouse! I try to bring some sense of order but of course we are not going for any Olivier Awards, just a couple of nights entertainment for the locals! Do you have any experience in the theatre?” I shook my head and Geoff interrupted “Clive worked in the West End and is our guru on the theatre!” He laughed and said “I worked with a small theatre group in London 30 years ago, so I am no Cameron Mackintosh! We do things for fun – but I try to do them well!”

“Do you know Neil Simon?” Clive asked me and I was on the cusp of replying that I liked his music with Bill Garfunkle but instead shook my head. “Fabulous playwright, wonderful comedies. We’re doing ‘Barefoot In The Park’ because we can do it on stage with a split screen and not have to have too many changes of scenery and so forth. It’s a fizzer of a script, and performed well it will have everyone laughing for the right reasons!” Just then a young couple walked past “Ah here’s our Corie and Paul ! Jennie, Ben – this is Emerson Harper. He’s joining our merry band!”

The young girl smiled and said “Hello Emerson, nice to meet you!” I shook her hand. “Call me M ! Lovely to meet you too.” Her colleague thrust his hand out “Hello M, Ben Wilson. Nice to meet you.” Clive continued “The play is about two couples, Corie and Paul are newlyweds in New York trying to get comfortable in the big city. There’s a curmudgeon of an old man in the apartment upstairs that Corie introduces to her mother in an attempt to get her out of her hair so it’s a real romp.” Geoff nodded and said “and I am playing Mr Velasco, the curmudgeon!”

A middle aged woman approached. “Ah, and here is my love interest, the lovely Mrs Banks!” said Geoff and the woman smiled and said “Hello, you must be the new owner of Walpole Cottage! I’m Angela Stone, pleased to meet you.” I smiled. “Emerson Harper, but please call me M.”

Clive glanced around and said “Well, whenever everyone’s ready?” I glanced around and realised I had been introduced to everyone I could see. “Is this it?” I asked Geoff and he laughed. “Well, we have a costume team working on outfits and a staging team working on the set and lighting and there are a couple of minor roles where people call into the apartment but for now we’re it. We have more members who’ll perform in the Pantomime later in the year but this piece only needs a small cast which is handy when people have other commitments.”

Clive turned to me and said “I need a prompt if you are available, M? I usually try to keep everyone correct on their lines but if you could do that I can concentrate on other things!” I smiled. “Sure. I can do that!” I said, relieved that my first involvement with the Group would be simply to feed them their lines if they missed their cue. Clive handed me a copy of the script and talked me through the section they would be rehearsing tonight and I took my seat at the edge of the stage ready to begin.

After around 90 minutes during which I had given a number of prompts to all four actors Clive called it a halt. “Well done, we’re moving along nicely. In 6 weeks time we’ll be ready to perform. It’s a shame we open in 4!” Everyone laughed and Clive said “Come on, the Green Man awaits!” I drew Geoff a look and he nodded. “We always finish off at the Green Man after rehearsals. Gives us a chance to unwind and share views on how rehearsal went. Come on, you’re one of us now!”

The local pub was a small friendly affair. I chose the local ale and the rest of us sat while Geoff and Clive went to the bar. Angela leaned over to me and said “Its £10 kitty each night and what’s left is pooled so there’s enough for an after show meal.” I smiled and handed her my money. Over two pints we all chatted, with me being the main topic of conversation. Was I single, did I have family, what was my job – all sorts of personal questions were asked without any embarrassment. Angela even asked “What age are you then, to be retired and everything? You don’t look 60 to my eyes!“ I smiled “Nope, you’re eyes are right enough I’ll be 58 next month. I was made an offer too good to refuse,”

Geoff laughed. “59 I am, and nobody is offering me a chance to retire anytime soon. Not that I’d want to mind you!” Young Jennie called out “Don’t you dare, Geoff Porter ! Lynchpin of the community you are! Where else would I return my Amazon packages round here?” and everyone laughed.

It was a relatively short walk home after we had said our goodnights and gone our separate ways. I had made a first foray into my new community and had thoroughly enjoyed it – even getting to know the landlord at the local pub where I would make occasional visits in the weeks to come in addition to my Wednesday night commitments.

- - - -

Three weeks later I was feeling very relaxed walking to rehearsals when I was met by a very pale looking Clive at the door of the Hall. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Seen a ghost?” “It’s Angela. She broke her collarbone this afternoon playing Rugby. She teaches girls PE at Thetford Grammar School. There was a collision and she came off worst.” He looked at me. “The play opens a week on Friday and needs a Mrs Banks.”

“Do you have anyone who could step in?” I asked as we went inside. “Oh there are a couple but there’s no time to learn the script or how to perform it. We’re too small a group to have an understudy and everyone available has another role on the night.”

Then a light seemed to come on in Clive’s head and he looked at me. At that same moment I realised what he was thinking. “No, I couldn’t” I said and Clive shook his head at me. “Why ever not? You know the script inside out! You’d be perfect!” I laughed. “Perfect? I’m a man, Clive, and you are looking for a middle aged woman!” He held out his hands. “This is the theatre, M, it has a rich history of using smoke and mirrors to deceive an audience. Our make up girl is marvellous and our wardrobe mistress a magician – let them work on you for 30 minutes and I swear you will fool everyone!” I must have paused too long because Clive called out “Karen? Can you come here a second?” and I was pulled into something I was not prepared for.

“Karen, you need to make M here Mrs Banks. Angela is in A&E and can’t perform. I need M to be Mrs Banks tonight please.” Clive seemed to have found a new gear and was swiftly moving over to another woman. “Dorothy, I need Mrs Banks outfits to fit M here and to look natural on her.” My mind fizzed. Did Clive just refer to me as “her”?! Before I could process that, Dorothy was wrapping her measuring tape around my chest, waist and hips, furiously scribbling down figures and she asked “shoe size?” to which I mumbled 9 and she replied “You’ll need to squeeze into something smaller. I think I may be able to find something for next week though,”

In the make-up room Karen sat me on a chair and said “I haven’t time to do your hair tonight but I will come round tomorrow night and see what style and colour suits you. If that doesn’t work we can always use a wig. You’ll need to remove all facial and body hair”. As she spoke she smeared some warm wax across my brows and then with a tug of her hand she pulled what looked like tape across my forehead and the stinging pain made me cry out. She smiled and said “Sorry M but we girls have to suffer for our art.”

She rubbed a lotion across all my face began drawing on my forehead with a thick pencil and then smearing more around my cheek bones and brushing more colour around my eyes. There was mascara applied and another pencil went to work. Then she started working on my lips, once more using a pencil to define an area that was well in excess of my normal mouth. When I questioned this she said “You’ll be on stage many meters away from the audience. They need to see your mouth at the back of the hall so we need to exaggerate. It’s “the business of show” remember!”

She pulled a gun like item from a drawer. “OK, so the role needs earrings and I haven’t any clip-ons to suit so I’m going to pierce you so that you can wear these large drop earrings – the script calls for them and the public will expect them. Once the show is over your ears will heal over again in a couple of months time.” I looked at her and frowned. “Em, does it hurt?” She smiled and placed the gun around my right ear and squeezed the handle. There was a loud thump and a sharp stabbing pain in my ear. “Not too much” Karen replied. “The second one is always less of a shock” and before I could react she fired another hole through my left ear. “Perfect!” she announced and had me hold two pieces of cotton wool infused with disinfectant against my ears.

Karen attached a grey and white bobbed wig to my head and then made subtle adjustments to my makeup. She stood back and nodded with a smile. “Let go of your ears and I will fit your earrings. They should be studs but they are a little larger than that. I’ll hook the drops onto these before performance but the bases will need to stay in position for the next few weeks while your ears get used to the holes.”

I was still in a state of shock at my situation. So much was being done to me and I was powerless to stop it. “Can . . .can I see a mirror?” I asked falteringly and she shook her head. “Not yet. Never see a picture half finished. Dorothy will have something for you to wear in a moment.” Sure to form Dorothy arrived shortly after with a dress she had let out and a pair of matching high heels. I was helped out of my old clothes and fitted into the dress, It was a modest design suiting a woman of mature years but still showed enough of my body hair as to look slightly foolish.

My legs were also a little hirsute so Dorothy produced a pair of pantyhose and put them on which gave my legs a far smoother appearance. Then the shoes were applied. The nylon of the hose helped my feet slip inside the sandals and although my heel was a little over the back of the shoe, we were able to tie the strap around my ankle to hold it in place.

Just then there was a knock at the door and Jennie’s voice called out “I need to do my scenes with my mother if she’s ready?” I put on my best New York accent and called back “Coming honey!” Dorothy and Karen looked at each other and smiled. “She’s going to be great” Karen said and Dorothy nodded, saying “Come on Ethel, its showtime!” “Ethel?” I asked and she laughed. “Now you know why she likes to be called Mrs Banks!”

It took a moment to get balanced on the 3inch heels but fortunately they were block design rather than thin and pointed so by the time I left the room and headed for the stage I was able to take small steps without much of a wobble. I took the steps up onto the stage quoting a line from the script “I had to park the car three blocks away. Then it started to rain so I ran the last two blocks. Then my heel got caught in a subway grating. When I pulled my foot out, I stepped in a puddle. Then a cab went by and splashed my stockings. If the hardware store downstairs was open, I was going to buy a knife and kill myself.”

I wanted to break the ice but my outburst seemed to have left everyone speechless. They stood there motionless with the mouths hanging open. “What’s the matter? Have I broken some straps?” I asked in character, feeling around my dress as if I were showing something I shouldn’t be. I looked out into the Hall and saw Geoff standing alongside Clive. I held myself on my right hip and said “Honey, I’m not getting any younger here!” and saw a broad smile appear on Geoff’s face as Clive stammered “m . . right . . . ok . . . ah . . . the scene where Mrs Banks makes her first appearance in your flat Jennie , , , from your line.”

We went through the scenes and I found I was word perfect. I knew what Jennie was going to say too and was able to react naturally to her responses. I found myself enjoying being on stage, being the smart mouthed mother to a smart mouthed daughter and because I had seen so many rehearsals I knew where to be on stage – when to walk and when to stand as well as where. I felt utterly at home.

“Excellent” Clive called out once we had completed our scenes. “OK, Mrs Banks and Victor Valasco next, let’s get through these scenes please!” Geoff came up onto the stage and I moved over to the other side of the partition where his apartment was represented. Geoff leaned over to me and said “You look beautiful Ethel” and I turned to him and replied “Mr Velasco I will ask you to call me Mrs Banks until which time I feel it is appropriate for such wanton intimacy!” I said this with a glare on my face which caught Geoff of guard and he backed off looking suitably chastened. It was all I could do to suppress a giggle.

“OK, the scene where Corie introduces her mother to Valasco, Jennie can you start please” Clive announced and I found my position alongside my theatre daughter as Clive called out “and . . action!”
We went through the scenes without hitch as Mrs Banks and Valasco became an item, slowly warming to each other despite having little in common. At the end of the date scene Valasco and Mrs Banks hold hands and kiss and when that moment came in the rehearsal I moved my head at the last moment so that Geoff’s mouth missed my face.

“OK, thank you!” Clive called out as he checked his watch. “Oh lord, we’ve spent a lot of extra time this evening and still haven’t done a full timed run through! Ben? Jennie? Dorothy? Karen? Can you all come here a moment please?”

“OK, thanks everyone for your efforts tonight. Angela’s absence threw a massive spanner in our works but it looks like we have a replacement that is more than capable of filling the gap. However, I want a full run through with no gaps before a proper dress rehearsal with all characters and scenery changes. If there are any evenings you are NOT available can you let me know. I don’t think we can get the hall over the weekend but I will check.”

He glanced at his watch again. “Guys I think we’re too late to go for a beer tonight and the Hall needs to be locked up in 10 minutes time so can we just grab our things and head home and change there? Dorothy, do you need any of the outfits to work on?” She smiled “I may need to pad our Mrs Banks’s chest for more realism but we can arrange that.” Clive nodded and said “In that case, thanks everyone – especially you M, I think we have a star in the making! Grab your personal things and let’s get on our way.”

It was only at this point that I realised I was still holding onto Geoff’s hand. I looked down at the exact same time that Geoff did and as we both realised our eyes met. The seconds felt like minutes as we just looked at each other. I decided to defuse the situation so in my character voice said “Your knichi needs less salt” referring to the food Valasco served up at their date night. Geoff took the cue and we separated as he growled “I’ll mention that to my Michelin chef!”

I turned on my heels and did my best Marilyn Monroe walk away from him towards the make up room where my male clothing and shoes were. Karen followed me and advised me on how to remove my make up, reminding me to shave as closely as possible to reduce my facial hair to a minimum. I had no time to get out of my costume as I heard Clive shout for us to hurry up so instead I walked out of the room with my clothes in a carrier bag wearing a dress and heels.

Geoff was standing at the door waiting for me.

“I can make it back to the Cottage” I said to him and he smiled. “I know. I just want someone else in make up to walk with me. I’m afraid my customers will think I’ve gone strange wearing eye liner and lipstick!” I laughed “Ah the roar of the greasepaint . . “ “and the smell of the crowd” Geoff said as he completed the humorous quote with a laugh.

“You were incredible tonight” Geoff said as we walked the empty streets of Hopton. “Are you sure you’ve never acted before?” I chuckled. “Not since the school pantomime and that wasn’t yesterday! Have you done “Am Dram” for long?” Geoff shook his head. “Think I may have done three plays and two panto’s over the years. Its not easy getting away from the shop but Wednesday is a half day so I can get away and do something fun.” I smiled and nodded. “I had fun tonight” I said almost without thinking and Geoff looked at me and replied “Me too, M, me too.”

We paused and said nothing for a moment before I realised we were at my cottage. I fumbled in my plastic bag to find my house keys. “See you tomorrow?” Geoff asked softly and I looked at him and smiled. “It’s a date!” I said and we both laughed. He turned and began walking away. “Good night Ethel” he called out and I replied “Its Mrs Banks to you, Valasco” and he clutched his heart as if I had hurt him which made me laugh as I placed the key in the lock and went indoors.

I headed straight for the shower and soon I was back to my old self and the butterfly had returned to being a regular caterpillar. I slipped into my pyjamas and headed to bed. It had been quite an evening and I knew it would be an exciting ten days or so until the performances were at an end.

The next day saw me wake with a purpose. I needed to get prepared for my stage debut. I decided I needed a depilation product and I couldn’t remember seeing any on Geoff’s shelves so I had a quick breakfast and headed to the supermarket in Bury St Edmunds. I noticed a few curious glances and only when I was in the cosmetics section and saw my reflection did I appreciate why. I had no eyebrows, The temporary ones Karen had drawn washed off last night leaving a bald forehead I realised they would not grow back anytime soon so I bought a brow pencil and decided I would teach myself on its application so that I could be seen in public over the coming days.

I managed to get some skin care products as I knew stage makeup was harsh on the skin, and bought myself some items including cleansing pads and the hair removal cream I had wanted. If I was doing this, I was going to look right. I probably bought more than I needed to but I was in the mood, emboldened by my appearance the night before, and I decided I was all in. I told myself. “No guts, no glory!”

I wandered over to the clothing section and saw extra large ladies panties in packs and I tossed one into the basket. I didn’t want “visible boxer line” when I bent down on stage. Then I spied matching bras and giggled. What was the figure Dorothy had quoted for my chest – 44 inches? I gazed at the display and smiled when I saw that was the largest size in the range. I took the smallest cup size on offer – B cup. I had passable man boobs at the moment but no bigger than an A cup. However a well folded sock could boost my girls and give them a little more shape to enhance my stage persona. I bought a twin pack in natural.

I was feeling more confident the longer I browsed the ladies section and remembered how it had felt with pantyhose on my legs – the way material from my skirt slid over the nylon and how my feet slid in and out of my high heels. I found packs of 30 denier tights in a natural shade and put a couple in my shopping. I looked around myself at the range of options available for women and I felt like a child in a sweet shop but I knew I needed to rein myself in. I was wearing my ear studs of course but felt a woman like Mrs Banks would have a bracelet and necklace and certainly a watch so I went over to the jewellery display and selected a pretty necklace set before finding a feminine watch with a thin expandable wristband which would look well on a woman her age.

My nerve broke when I saw a couple of young girls manning the tills. With my lack of brows and a basket full of cosmetics and female underwear, I knew I would find it hard to look them in the eye so I went to the self check-out area and quickly scanned and bagged my purchases, paying by card and with a huge sigh of relief and satisfaction walked out to the car park.

“Excuse me?” a voice called out and I turned to see an older staff member coming towards me. “Did you forget this?” she asked holding up a lipstick. “only it was in your bagging area.” I felt myself blush. “Oh, eh, yes, thank you!” I stammered as I reached for it. “Can I just check your receipt to make sure it scanned OK?” she asked making sure I had paid for the item. I must have been crimson faced as she scanned the products on my receipt. “Oh there we are, Rimmel Crimson Desire – such a lovely shade!” She handed me the stick and said “have a great day!” I smiled and thanked her and wished her the same and made my way to the car feeling more self conscious than I had ever felt before.

The drive back to Hopton gave me time to calm down and realise nobody screamed, pointed or laughed at my purchases and I was overreacting. When I took my shopping bags into the cottage I couldn’t help but feel a tingle of excitement and anticipation. However, I knew I needed to get some milk, a loaf and some eggs and so I made my way round to the shop armed with my carrier bag. “Morning Geoff” I said as I entered the store and he smiled broadly/ “Good morning to you, M! How are you this fine morning?” “Unable to look shocked or surprised” I replied which made Geoff frown until I showed him my lack of brows and he burst our laughing. “Ah! See what you mean! That’s not a great look!” I smiled and said “I’m going to draw something back for a few days and then hopefully get something natural again once the play is over.”

I placed my basket of purchases at his till and we exchanged smiles. “I really enjoyed last night you know” Geoff said. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so . . . assured on that stage.” I gave a coy smile. “Why thank you kind sir! For my part, I had a lovely evening too!” Geoff scanned my shopping as he added “You took to the part like a pro – seriously, you were so . . . believable as Mrs Banks! It was like you were an actress all your days!“ I laughed. “Just watched too many films and west end shows I guess. They must have rubbed off on me”.

I went home and around 3pm my phone rang with an unknown number. I was expecting it to be Clive but instead there was a young female voice on the line. “M? It’s Karen from the Drama Group. Are you free this evening for me to play with your hair? I have an idea of how to give Mrs Banks a more believable mop!” I agreed she could come round anytime and we settled on 7pm.

She was early when she knocked on the door and clearly excited when I let her in. “Hi M, sorry about the box of tricks here but I think I have the solution to Mrs Banks’ finishing touches.” I smiled and said “Will we go straight to the bathroom?” and she laughed and said “Please and strip down to your knickers. This may get messy!”

As I knelt on the floor of my bathroom next to this young woman feeling rather exposed she explained “In the film the actress who played Mrs Banks had her hair backcombed and bouffant which looks rather old fashioned and matronly and I think you have enough hair that I can make that work on you.” I laughed and said “Hope I can carry it off!” and she smiled. “I’ve made Geoff look coquettish before so if I can pull THAT off you will be a breeze!” I tried to picture Geoff as a cute flirt of a girl and failed miserably. “I hope that was for a play?” I asked and she laughed. “Yea, a farce we did a couple of years ago. Some Take It Hot or something.” I corrected her. “Some Like It Hot – the Billy Wilder film with Marilyn Monroe, Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis! That’s a classic – couldn’t have been easy to put on a stage?” Karen nodded “Yea, that’s it. We did an abridged version with Geoff playing Daphne.” She looked at me and said “I was Sugar Kane.”

I laughed and said “I’ll bet you felt wonderfully sexy” and then realised how that could have sounded. Here I was a man old enough to be her father if not grandfather, kneeling beside her in just his underwear . “I’m . . I’m sorry, that’s probably not something I should have asked” I stammered before she could respond. She laughed and said “No, you’re fine M, I did feel wonderful as Sugar. Now lets get you feeling wonderful being Mrs Banks. Lean over and I’ll soak your hair.”

Over the next hour my hair was washed, dried, dampened, dyed, dried, dampened and back combed before being brushed, lacquered and then set. Once done she frowned and said “It looks strange on you as you are – would you mind putting the dress on again and I’ll put a bit of slap on your face so we can see the full effect?” I could hardly say no so.

It was amazing. The hair worked wonderfully, making me look quite old fashioned but refined which was the manor in which I had played her part – a broad from New Jersey who wanted to be Upper East Side. “Hold still” Karen said as she took photos of my head from different angles. “That’s what I want to reproduce next Friday night.” Having proven the look worked, we carefully removed my dress and then Karen set about removing my make up with her cleanser and pads.

“Oh, hey, what about my brows?” I asked. “I looked kind of freakish without them this morning!” Karen laughed “Oh sorry, yea, hold on a moment. This is a permanent pencil so they will last until next week and we can fill them out then if necessary” she said as she redrew the brows before washing off the foundation and lipstick I had been wearing. “OK, you can wash your face now” she said jauntily as she packed away her last products. I did so and then saw my face in the mirror. I still had my grey bouffant but the thin arched brows I now displayed made me look a lot more feminine than before – even without my make up.

“What about my hair?” I asked and she smiled “Oh sorry, that die should wash out after a couple of washes. Just don’t get it cut between now and the shows.” I thanked her and began walking her to the door when I realised I was still only in my underwear and waving off a young girl at the door in a state of undress would not endear me to my neighbours. “Can you see yourself out Karen, and I’ll go get dressed!” I said with a smile. “Not a problem M, and thanks for your patience tonight. I just wish all my transformations were as easy as yours! You’re going to be a beautiful Mrs Banks” she said as she walked out the door.

- - -

I woke the next morning and realised I still had my bouffant hairstyle Karen had left me with so I dived into the shower and washed thoroughly. When I emerged and dried myself off I found my hair still looked flecked with grey and of course I still had my arched brows so I looked a little different than usual but I shrugged that off. Few people locally knew me that well and in 10 days time I will be returned to my former glory.

It was a lovely day so I made myself a sandwich and headed off into the countryside on one of the many local signposted walks. I was in my jeans and a v necked t-shirt with a small backpack containing my sandwich and a couple of bottles of water. Opportunities to stroll through nature like this didn’t come around when you lived in Wimbledon and I was excited to be out in the fresh air with only the sounds of nature around me. I decided I would use the time to go through my lines and quickly realised that immersing myself in the role of prompt I was pretty much word perfect on the play and could feed myself my own prompts so that I was strolling along having a two or three way conversation with myself, enjoying the punch lines Mrs Burns set up for others as much as the ones I delivered myself.

I was well into my walk when I realised I was not alone. 15 members of the village rambling club stood before me wondering no doubt if I was completely unhinged. “Oh! Hi! Sorry, I was just practicing my lines for the Play I’m doing next week” I explained and there was a round of relieved laughter. “I’m playing Mrs Banks” I added as one woman replied “Oh we’ve all got tickets I think, haven’t we?” to a response in the positive. “Its always a great night out, Norman, weren’t you in last year’s Panto?” she continued and a man at the back of the bunch said “Certainly was. Great fun!”

I smiled and said “Sorry, you probably don’t know me, I only moved into Walpole Cottage a few weeks ago. I’m M Harper, good to meet you all.” They gave a united hello back and their spokesperson said “Well, hopefully you’ll join the rambling club soon and we can get to know you better! We’ll leave you to your rehearsals and look forward to seeing you in action next week! Break a leg, Emma!” she called as she led the group off down the path and I shouted “Thanks!” at their rear.

Then it struck me. She had called me Emma. She must have misheard me when I said my name. Has she thought I was female? I hadn’t spoken any different than usual, although I HAD been performing a line as Mrs Banks when I had bumped into them and I had told them I was playing a female role. I shook my head. My life was slowly developing the characteristics of a farce that could grace the stage in the village hall. I sighed, went back to where I was in the script and continued my walk and soon I had put the encounter to the back of my mind.

I stopped for my sandwich by a waterway and ended up sharing it with all manner of waterfowl and I marvelled at how easy it was to get close to nature in this part of the world. I read the birds part of the script but they started to disperse as I had eaten all of my sandwich. “Everyone’s a critic” I said to the departing fowl as I took a swig of water and continued on my way, which I realised was probably the reverse of the routing the Ramblers were taking.

Sure enough, an hour later I found myself on the outskirts of Hopton once again. As I walked into the village I saw Clive coming out of the Village Hall and he waved as he saw me. “M! Excellent, that’s one phone call less! We can have the hall for a full read through Sunday morning at 9am if you are available. Not ideal I know but I think it would be useful and then we can have a formal dress rehearsal with scenery and so forth on Wednesday. Only leaves 24hrs for any adjustments we need to make but fingers crossed we won’t have any.” He then looked closely at me and said “Did Wednesday night age you so much you’ve gone grey?” I laughed and said “No. Karen was working on a hair style for me that uses what I have. She has photos if you ask her!”

Clive smiled and said “Excellent. OK, I’d best get on and inform the others.” “I can tell Geoff” I suggested. “I can drop in on my way home.” “That’s good of you, thanks. That’s two down and about 8 to go – thank’s M! See you Sunday!” he added as he jumped into his car and drove off. A few moments later I was in the general store making good my offer. “Hi Geoff, I just bumped into Clive. Sunday morning 9am for a full cast run through and Wednesday night for the full dress rehearsal if that’s OK?” He looked at me and said “Have you stopped dying your hair?” I laughed and said “Karen was giving Mrs Banks her new look last night in preparation for next week.” A customer was walking towards the till so I said “I won’t keep you back – any problem with Sunday morning let Clive know!” He winced and said “There goes my only lie in of the week!” Then he smiled and winked at me. “I’ll be there Ethel. See you then!” The customer looked up at me to see who this Ethel person was and I shook my head and said “take care, Victor” which only made her frown all the more.

I left Geoff to explain and walked back to the Cottage ready to put my feet up and enjoy a well earned cup of tea.

I did a full washing on the Saturday as the weather allowed me to change the bedding and wash the unmentionables. I had been practicing the dialogue throughout the morning and continued to do so as I hung out the sheets and pillowslips on the line. I didn’t hang out the panties for fear of being discovered by the neighbours although I was sure my garden could not be overseen by either of the houses next to mine. I had been wearing the panties I bought because I wanted them “broken in” before the night of the performance. That was what I told myself anyway. The truth was I enjoyed the way they felt against my skin – the sheer, silky material was so much softer than the cotton mix of the boxer shorts I usually wore. I knew Mrs Burns would approve of the choice.

I was still going over the lines when I ran an iron over the pillow slips a few hours later and then the sheets themselves, smiling at the thought of how comfortable it would be to be in my freshly cleaned bed linen tonight and how I would be denied a long lie by the full script read through in the morning. I realised the play was dominating my life but I knew it was my introduction to the village – the first time most residents would see me and it pleased me to think they would be laughing along with my lines and empathising with the character I was playing. With no “baddie” in the play, it was a feel good night out for everyone and I hoped that would leave a very positive impression with my new neighbours.

Sunday morning’s read through started badly. Everyone was a little flat being so early in the morning so Clive stopped his stopwatch and said “I need life from you. I need emotion. Just because you are not walking the stage in full costume and make up I want you to act as though you were – and like its 7pm not 9am. OK, let’s start again from the beginning and let perform like we’re live from the West End stage!” Everyone laughed and we shook ourselves and loosened up and the tempo was sharper and more realistic as we went through our positions on the empty stage and to an empty hall. Clive held his script and acted as a prompt but none of us needed his services so instead he made little notes on where he wanted more emphasis or a pause for effect.

“And end of act one! OK people, that’s much more like it. On the night you’ll have a 20 minute break or so while we sell tea and coffee to the masses but if you’re ready lets crack on and start act two. We look pretty much on time so far so let’s keep it tight, snappy, and funny!” Clive’s words rang through our heads as we took a swift drink of water to stay hydrated and stretched our limbs after automatically holding them in poses we would take during the shows. Mentally we were now in the zone. We were ready to take the show to its climax.

“Ok, people, thank you for spending your Sunday morning on this job. We were about 8 minutes over time by my reckoning which is not too bad. I am sure adrenalin on Friday and Saturday will drive the speed a little faster. I am told tickets have now sold out for both evenings so we will have a good audience! Back here Wednesday night for the dress rehearsal – if we can be here for 6.30 latest so Karen and her team have time to do make up and M, remember to shave off all your body and facial hair please! In the meantime, please don’t get injured or lose the power of speech and lets have a great show!”

Clive’s advice made us all smile and we got ourselves organised to leave the Hall just before 12 noon. Suddenly I felt a hand on my back. “We’re going to wow them, M” Geoff said. “Listen why don’t I treat you to lunch? I’m free for a change and it would be good to get to know you better than just your choice in milk!” “Only if I pay half the bill – I don’t want to spend the rest of the week trying to repay your kindness!” I retorted and he laughed and held up his hands. “OK, as you wish! Come on, I know somewhere local. If we are quick we can beat the crowd and get a good seat !”

Geoff invited me into his 10 year old hatchback. “Nice wheels” I commented and he laughed. “It hauls supplies from the cash & carry and does deliveries to some isolated properties in the winter. It only gets used a couple of times a week so it does all I need of it.” He began chattering on about the country pubs and restaurants in the area who had closed over the years because of a lack of staff, exacerbated by withdrawal from the EU and then the effects of Covid 19. People’s eating habits were changing with young people more likely to phone in a takeaway than go out and visit a pub. Sadly it was a trend I had noticed myself, even in the nation’s capital, and I bemoaned the lack of social interaction that came from such dining habits when combined with working from home and spending hours on the internet or social media websites where you don’t actually talk to anyone but share videos. We moaned like two grumpy old men, which I guess is what we were!

Geoff pulled into the car park of a traditional looking Tavern and we found a table on the outside deck and ordered up a beer while we scanned the menu. I decided on the steak and ale pie while he picked out Suffolk pork and herb sausages with mash. “This is nice” I said. “This is my kind of venue!” “Mine too” Geoff replied. “There are others on the outskirts of Hopton you can walk to on a nice evening but I like coming out here because I am not so well known and can just relax. I get my fill of talking shop at the shop, if you know what I mean!” Our beers arrived and we raised our glasses. “Here’s to next weekend’s performances!” I said and we clicked glasses and took a sup of fine local ale.

“Speaking of which, how are you going to fit in the time to get make up and costume done – Don’t you close at 6?” I asked. “Normally, but I’ll put a card in the window closing at 5 so I have time. It’s usually quiet that last hour anyhow” he replied, then looked intently at me and said “So, Emerson Harper, tell me about the person I’m sharing my lunch with. I’ve known you about a month now but I barely know about you.” I took a sup of ale and said “Not much to tell really. Born in Surrey, educated there and then moved to London for work. Got a career in stock buying for major department stores and did that pretty much for 35 years. During that time I married Carol and we had a daughter together call Amelia. We had managed to buy a house in Wimbledon before property prices went sky high there so that was lucky.” I took another sip of ale and continued “Then Amelia went off to study Art at University and Carol left me for a Spanish waiter she had met on a girls night out and as far as I know she is now in Seville.”

“Divorced?” Geoff asked and I nodded. “She claimed we had drifted apart and she was happy to leave me with the house since she had a good career as a designer and earned more than me! So I rattled round the old family home for a while and told myself I needed a fresh start while I still had some years ahead of me and with the decline of the high street and increase of internet shopping my role was being taken over by warehouse managers and computer analysts. I was offered a package to go and took it. I remember visiting a Great Aunt who lived in Thetford when I was younger and how nice the area was and so I found myself a cottage in a country village!”

Geoff sipped his ale and replied “Superficial.” I frowned and said “sorry?” “Your story is very superficial. You haven’t given me answers that tell me how you feel, your emotions, your wants and needs! How many years did your marriage last – 19 years? It must have been heartbreaking when she walked out on you?” I shrugged. “It was on the cards. We were never really the great romance of the 90s. We were probably together because of Amelia more than anything else.” I wasn’t exactly comfortable being analysed by Geoff so I quickly turned the tables.

“So, who is this Geoff I see before me – lynchpin of the village I hear?!” He chortled “Well when you are the only shop other than the petrol station a mile out of the village you do have a slight advantage! Geoffrey Porter, born in Bury St Edmunds and lived here or hereabout ever since. My uncle had the shop and offered it to me on my 25th birthday because he wanted to open a store on the Costa Del Sol. I had nothing else on the go so took it on and been doing it since!”

I waited for more but just then our meals arrived and we started eating. “Wives?” I said as I was about to eat a forkful of pie. “Sorry?” he replied. “You never mentioned your marital history” I said as I chewed down on my meal. “Don’t have one. A history I mean. Never met Miss Right” Geoff said as he looked at me. “She needs to accept long shop hours and the commitment to the community that comes with it.”
I frowned “Don’t you have staff to help you out?”.
“Nope”
“What about when you’ve been ill?”
“Don’t get ill!”
“Holidays then!”
“Never ‘ad one”
I put my fork and knife down on my plate and said “Seriously? You’ve worked the shop alone since you were 25 without a break?” He shrugged and said “I get Christmas Day off but it’s a waste of time because all the shops are shut and I can’t go anywhere!” I shook my head. “No wonder you’re single. What woman would put up with that nonsense? I’d be expecting time with my partner at least two days a week and regular holidays if I were them! Even prisoners get time off for good behaviour!”

Geoff was smiling at me. “What?” I asked. “You said you’d be looking for two days a week off and regular holidays if you were my wife! Was that an offer then?” “Did .. did I say that?” I stammered and he smiled and nodded as he thrust a forkful of sausage in his mouth. “I . . was speaking metaphorically of course” I tried to back pedal. “I mean having had a wife myself, I know how demanding they can be!” Geoff nodded. “That’s why I’m still single. I can’t meet the demands.” I picked up my cutlery again and ate more of my delicious pie and mash. “So what are your retirement plans?” I asked and he shrugged. “Haven’t got any!” I placed down my fork and knife with such a clatter other diners near us turned to see what was happening. “Geoff are you being serious? You’re going to work until you drop? Until someone finds you collapsed in the fruit and veg display?”
He didn’t break stride as he replied “I’m choosing the toilet paper display, it’s softer.”

My exasperation was showing as I folded my arms across my chest and said “Geoff Porter?” and he responded by placing his own cutlery on his plate. “Look, I have nobody to pass the shop on to, and nobody has ever made me an offer to buy it so while I am a single man with nobody to please but myself, I shall work on until I can’t.”

Just then a server came round and noticed two plates with their cutlery on them and asked “Are you both finished?” and in unison we both replied tersely “No!” which sent her away in a rush. Geoff and I looked at each other and began laughing. “We’d better leave her a decent tip” I commented and Geoff nodded and said “and an apology! Look, I’m sorry, I know I’ve let the shop take over my life but I hadn’t met anyone until now who could take me away from it.”

The comment struck me and I said “until now?” Geoff smiled broadly and nodded. “You’ve dragged me away from the shop today! If I wasn’t having lunch with you I’d be restocking shelves or checking stock levels in the storage room. You’re a bad influence, M!” and he cleared his plate while I paused, trying to get my head around the inference of his words. Eventually I picked up my cutlery and finished off my own meal, thinking how my lunch with a friend was beginning to sound more like a date.

“Besides, isn’t retirement for old people?” Geoff asked and I looked at him in shock. “I’m younger than you and I’ve done it! Wouldn’t you love the chance to take a walk in the countryside, or visit a museum and spend the day gazing at the exhibits, or get into the car and drive off somewhere different and see what it has to offer. Stay in a nice hotel, visit a lovely restaurant or bar, and just relax knowing tomorrow you can do it all again if you wish?”

He looked at me and gave a wry smile. “Doesn’t happen like that”. I reached across and took hold of his hand. “It’s that way for me, Geoff!” I said with passion. “That’s how my life is now. I can do what I like when I like and go where I like because I’ve put in my years of work and now it’s my time to enjoy life. You can do that too Geoff. You can do all the things I do. You can have the same life as me, if you want it.”

I realised I was now squeezing Geoff’s hand and I let go as though it was red hot and saw him smile. “Its not that I wouldn’t enjoy that, M, its just that I’d be letting the village down. Villages need a village store or the place withers and dies. After all these years, I couldn’t walk away and let that happen. These people rely on me to be there for them.” I gazed into his eyes and said “Geoff, for once in your life, look after number one. You’re a good man and you’ve been a great servant to the town but cemeteries are full of indispensable people and life still goes on. There’s a wonderful world you can visit from Hopton if you just let it in.”

Geoff looked at me and nodded and we sat for a moment in silence before he said softly “It’s a big step to take” I leaned across and place a hand on his arm. “It takes a big man to make it and I think you fit the bill!” He looked at me and I thought he was about to say something but his expression changed and he said “speaking of which, I’ll go and get our bill.”

I leaned back in my chair, and gave a deep sigh. My new friend was clearly devoted to his service to the community but he had made a rod for his own back and was beating himself up with it. Since moving to Hopton I had embraced my retirement but Geoff appeared unwilling to leave the shop that had become his life. I wanted to help him but knew he had to help himself. I decided not to pursue the issue further today and let the words already spoken make whatever impact they could.

“Twenty pounds each plus a couple for the tip” he announced as he returned to the table. “That’s excellent value” I replied and said “We’ll be back!” which made Geoff chuckle. “Are you inviting me or is that the royal “we”?” I dug the money out and said “Well it’s the royal “we” Monday to Saturday but I hear someone can make himself available on Sundays . . .” He laughed and said “Right, M, lets make tracks. Its gone 3 o’clock already and I was going to defrost one of the freezers.” I shook my head and he winked at me and added “Gotcha!”

Riding back into town in his car I said “You really are going to defrost a freezer, aren’t you?” and he gave an embarrassed smile and said “Well, it’s easier with no customers around” and I shook my head. “What am I going to do with you, Geoff Porter?” I regretted the words as soon as I said them and there was a silence in the car. I glanced at his face and saw him smiling. Eventually he responded “That’s a very good question, M.”

The car came to a halt and Geoff said “Walpole Cottage. Please mind the gap when exiting the vehicle.” I unfastened my seat belt and said “Would you like to come in for a coffee” and realised I had said something stupid once more. He smiled and said “Some other time but right now I have to defrost my freezer” and we both laughed. “Honestly? That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard” I said. “No wonder you’re single!” We shared a smile and found ourselves looking in each other’s eyes. Quickly I added “Thanks Geoff, that was fun. I’ll see you tomorrow – I need a 60watt light bulb.” He nodded and said “second shelf to the left of the newspapers – two pounds seventy five each or five pounds fifty a pair.” I was about to react when I realised he was pulling my leg and I laughed. “See you tomorrow!” I said and waved as he drove away.

I stood outside the cottage for a few moments. Had I been flirting with Geoff over lunch? I’d certainly been very tactile with him – something I was not aware of being with any other person, male or female. Was it just because I was playing his love interest in the Amateur Dramatics group and there was some kind of emotional bleed from that into my real life? And while I was at it, why am I standing here with a big goofy smile on my face! I pulled my key out of my pocket and stepped into the Cottage and walked through to the kitchen. I needed a coffee.

- - -

The next day I got my light bulb and a pint of milk. I busied myself around the garden for most of the day and made sure I didn’t over exert myself so I would be fit for the performances. On Tuesday I took a drive into Thetford and had a wander around the town, visiting where my Great Aunt’s house was only to find it had been demolished to make way for a new Primary School, ironic when she had been a spinster all her days. On Wednesday morning I rose early and began my preparation for the dress rehearsal. I covered my body with hair removal cream – my arms, armpits, chest, stomach and legs and I even managed to do part of my back and shoulders using a sponge. I waited the advisory six minutes and then checked that the cream was doing its work before proceeding to shower and wash off the residue.

It was incredible to see my body virtually hairless for the first time since puberty. It looked strange at first and felt unusual but I knew it would only help my appearance as Mrs Banks. I shaved twice to get my face clear and decided I would run the blade over it once more just before I left the house that evening. I pulled out an emery board and began smoothing my nails and smartening them up. I knew I would probably be given pop on vinyls that would cover my natural nail but I wanted them to be smarter anyway. I made myself a larger lunch than usual as I didn’t want a large evening meal before the dress rehearsal. Then I stood in my living room and talked and walked myself through my performance, making sure I remembered everything I needed to. I needn’t have worried. I was perfect.

I was at the door of the Village Hall at 6pm dressed in joggers and a t-shirt ready to transform into my character. Karen was there already and waved me over. “Lets get your hair done before we do your face, M. If you hold out your hands Janice here will apply your nails and varnish.” Karen’s assistant couldn’t have been more than 16 but she smiled confidently at me and was soon adding an extra inch of nail to my hand. With all 10 digits completed she went off to attend to Jennie who waved at me and said hello. Clive appeared from an anteroom where he had been on the phone. “Hello M, glad you’re here on time. How are you? Fit and well I trust?” I smiled and said ”Ready to make my acting debut, Mr DeMille!” He laughed and said “Knock ‘em dead kid!” as he wandered off to check on the others.

When I was passed over to Dorothy for costume she had me pull off my t-shirt and gasped when she saw I was wearing one of the bra’s I had bought in Tesco. “Great minds think alike” she said as she held out two flesh coloured fillers. “Pop those in beneath your own and they’ll give you a bit more décolletage and a more obvious chest.” she explained. Then she held out a string of pearls. “I’ll pop this around your neck, M. It’s more in keeping with the film appearance of Mrs Banks and is more visible to the audience than that chain you have on.” I stepped into my dress before Dorothy produced another pair of red sandals with a block heel. “These are European size 39 which should fit you – I got them off e-bay for you.” By the time I was fully costumed with my new dangling earrings, I looked incredible, and very feminine.

Traditionally they say a bad dress rehearsal ensures a good public performance so we should not have worried that the lighting team switched off the wrong half of the stage at one point leaving the “dead” side fully lit, and the moment that a fake picture frame on the scenery for my dinner date with Victor Valasco fell to the floor with a bang that made Geoff swear loudly in shock. We were all fine with our delivery and Clive was pleased that we were closer to our expected run time than on Sunday – only 4 minutes over in total.

None of that bothered me however. What got me flustered was the very end of my final scene which was Mrs Banks’s date with Mr Valasco. Unlike the read through and previous rehearsals when we moved together Geoff spotted my attempted manoeuvre left and matched it and I felt his lips kiss mine just as the lights faded. In the darkness we were to maintain position while the lights rose on the other half of the stage. However, I pulled back to ensure our lips separated. We had to remain silent and still while the play concluded which gave me plenty of time to worry about what had happened.

After Clive had announced himself happy with the outcome I pulled Geoff aside and whispered “What was that kiss for?!” He smiled and said “It’s in the script!” and I hissed back “Yea, but I thought we were just going to pretend, you know “smoke and mirrors” and all that?” Geoff lifted his hand and gently ran a finger down my cheek as he said “Mrs Banks, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, can you?” I stood open mouthed, unable to speak as Clive called out “OK, we’ve time for a swift one at The Green Man if you want to go in costume?” and I could hear Ben and Jennie say “Why not!” and Karen and Dorothy were heading for the exit. Geoff smiled and held out his hand to me. “Mrs Burns, may I have the pleasure?”

The rest of the cast and crew laughed thinking we were having a prank so I put on my American accent and said “Victor, you can touch the merchandise but cause any damage and you’ll pay for it” which got whoops of approval and a smile from Geoff. With half a dozen of us wearing full stage make up and costume, we turned a few heads in the bar but managed to find tables in the dining area where we could sit together, it being too late to serve food. The barman allowed us to buy double orders so that he could formally close the bar at the correct time and we were left to chat and relax.

Clive gave us all a more detailed debrief about what we could do to improve scenes and some suggestions about the forthcoming public performances. “If you think a line is going to get a response, pause and let the audience fill that gap with laughter. Letting people laugh is letting them enjoy themselves and if they do that, they have a good night and they’ll come back to future shows. Don’t be afraid to adlib a response to anything they do – make them feel they are part of the action and not just watching it. We are not a television set. We are a breathing, feeling, vibrant theatre group and we should be something special!” I could see everyone’s back straighten and shoulders go back at the comment. “Damn right!” Ben said with a smile.

Clive had the keys to the Hall for the next 4 days so after we had finished our drinks we headed back across the road to change out of costume and fetch our own clothes. Geoff once again took my arm to help me walk across to the hall in my high heels and this time I accepted his arm without comment.
I had Karen remove my fake nails and store them for use again on Friday and left my high heels and dress. The underwear I decided to keep on since they were easy to put on at home.

Geoff insisted in walking me back to the cottage and since I was still in full make up, I let him. We were both tired after a long day and didn’t talk on the journey. However we had an arm around each other as we walked, like two old soaks staggering back from the pub. When I got to the cottage I realised I had been leaning into Geoff with my head on his shoulder and there was a line of make-up to show for where I had been.

“Oh Geoff, I’m sorry – I’ve stained your shirt!” I exclaimed. “Take it off and I’ll wash it for you!” He laughed. “Its OK, I can clean that up.” I stood firm. “Geoff, I insist. Take it off. Now.” He sighed and shook his head as he unbuttoned the shirt and pulled it off. For a second I stood there in the street light’s glow admiring the brawny chest and toned stomach of my fellow actor. He must have seen me staring because he laughed. “Who needs a gym membership when he has boxes of stock to lift every day, eh?” Then he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “Good night, M. See you tomorrow.”

As he walked away I remained silent. What was I feeling? What was I doing! I had just let a man kiss me goodnight. My emotions were all over the place. I looked down at his shirt in my hands and lifted it to my face. I took a deep sniff of his top and could smell his musk, his aftershave and his sweat. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment then remembered I was still standing outside my front door in public view. I slipped my key into the lock and got inside.

I walked through to the bathroom and washed off the greasepaint I had been wearing, all the time muttering to myself. “What are you doing, M? You’re making a fool of yourself! Man up for god sake! What if Amelia finds out?” Then I came to in shock. I was repeating the words my ex wife had said to me. These weren’t my demands – they were hers! I looked at my reflection and realised I still had the jewellery on so I disconnected the dropped earring, and removed my pearl necklace and bangles. I was in an emotional whirlpool at the moment and needed to sleep it off. Things will be better in the morning. I placed Geoff’s shirt in a basin of water to soak overnight after one last inhale of his smell and then went to my wardrobe. I selected one of my favourite baby doll nighties and put it on after removing my t-shirt and joggers. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

- - -

Thursday morning I washed out Geoff’s shirt and hung it out to dry. I decided I needed to get away and take my mind of the night before so I went to Bury St Edmonds and wandered round the shops looking at clothes and shoes and pretty things I could take back to the cottage. I bought lunch in a little bistro and tried to relax people watching but my mind kept slipping back to the Play and to Geoff. I drove home mid afternoon and ironed Geoff’s shirt. When I went round to the shop, Geoff was on the phone to one of his suppliers so I left the shirt on the counter and gave him a thumbs up. I could see he wanted to say something but the call was stopping him so I waved and went out of the shop – relieved that I had no awkward questions to answer.

On the Friday I had butterflies in my stomach for many reasons. It was the first performance. I would be on stage in drag. Geoff and I would kiss. I checked that my hair hadn’t grown back on my arms and legs and shaved my face as close as possible. I ate at lunchtime and was sick around 3pm. I told myself nerves were good and natural. This was something completely new after all. I paced the floors of Walpole Cottage willing the clock to reach showtime. I sat at my dresser and put on my bra for the evening, complete with the fillers I had been given and smiled as my breasts became more prominent. I slipped on my panties and pulled on the joggers and t-shirt. Then I picked up the bag containing my pearl necklace and earrings and checked the clock. 5.45pm. Time to go.

Karen was waiting for me as usual to prepare my hair as well as my make up and we were soon in the melee of getting ourselves ready for the stage. I saw Geoff arrive and wave to me while I was having my nails attached. When I was alone for a moment he came over and said “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since Wednesday night!” I sighed deeply and said “I need to talk to you but not right now.” He nodded and said “OK” just as Karen dragged him away to get his make up on. Young Janice was doing my nails again before I got into my dress and heels once more. I looked at the woman in the mirror and smiled. I was ready for my debut.

Clive came into the room with a bundle of programmes. “I’m sorry M, there’s been a mistake! You’re listed as Emma Harper not M ! Norrie is usually so reliable too” he said. I frowned then said “Norrie? As in Norman? Did the Panto last year?” Clive nodded. That’s him. Fine local printer, usually. I laughed. “He was out with the Ramblers group when I bumped into them. I introduced myself but the group leader misheard me and called me Emma. He must have thought he misheard me too! Its OK Clive, it can be my stage name – for now!”

With a relieved smile Clive sat the Saturday night programmes down and said “Full house outside. Let’s give them a good night, people. Break a leg!” We all smiled and returned the traditional theatre good wishes as a heavily strapped Angela walked into the room. “Hello everyone! 5 minutes to curtain! Just to let you know I’m acting prompt tonight – it’s the only thing I’m capable of I’m afraid!”

Last minute touches were made, everyone checked they had what they needed and then Clive told us to take our places. In the darkness of the wings I stood while Ben and Jennie got into their spots for the first scene. I felt proud to be part of this theatre group and proud of myself for accepting the challenges that it brought me. Coming to Hopton had been the new start I was looking for.

We could hear Clive at the front of the stage welcoming the audience and saying “The Hopton Players present Barefoot In The Park” and the house lights dimmed before the curtains opened.

The next 2 hours were the quickest in my life. We were like a well oiled machine, going through the scenes with ease and assurance, feeding off the audience’s laughter and growing more and more in confidence as we realised we were a success. My scenes with Geoff were a triumph. I was Mrs Banks and he was Valasco who lived a floor above my daughter. We lived the parts for those precious moments on the stage and left our normal lives behind. When my last scene arrived I kissed Victor Valasco and held the kiss until the lights faded and all eyes moved over to the conclusion of the play with Corie and Paul’s story. In the darkness of our half of the set, I maintained the kiss and found Valasco happy to do the same.

The curtain fell and we were once more bathed in light. Geoff took my hand and lead me to the front of the stage where we stood alongside Jennie and Ben as the curtain raised once more and the audience clapped and cheered loudly. We bowed and smiled and then Ben and Geoff went to the side of the stage and returned with flowers for Jennie and me. Geoff came over and placed the flowers in my arms and we kissed once more, to the cheers of the crowd. I could not contain my emotions at that moment and began to cry just as Clive shouted “Ladies and Gentlemen Jennie Groves, Ben Wilson, Geoff Porter and on her debut Emma Harper!” The applause went on until the curtain was lowered again and Jennie came over to give me a hug followed swiftly by a bandaged Angela who beamed “You were awesome, Emma! So much better than I would have been!”.

Things went manic once more as scenery was adjusted, lighting rigs checked and realigned and costumes removed and returned to their hangers. Clive was as high as a kite. “Brilliant first night people! Lets keep that standard tomorrow night, OK? Go get some rest and then we go again!” Suddenly Janice was grasping my hands and removing my nails while Dorothy removed my shoes and unfastened my dress. “Can you keep your hair like that till tomorrow night?” Karen asked. “Wear a shower cap or something?” I smiled and nodded and she went back to packaging all her materials in preparation for the next evening.

I was back in my joggers and t-shirt and making for the door where Geoff was standing waiting for me. I realised we had crossed a line during the performance and there would be truths to admit between us but just as I reached him there was an alarm sound from outside and someone shouted “Geoff? That’s your shop alarm!” He paused and looked at me and I said “Go! Check it out! We can talk tomorrow!” and he disappeared. I knew we had only delayed the inevitable but I was grateful to make my way home alone, wash off the make up and change into my baby doll nightie for bed and a deep sleep.

- - -

I didn’t go to the shop on Saturday. Seeing Geoff would be too . . . complicated. Instead I rested and prepared myself for the night to come and I had those butterflies once more – not for performing the play but for being honest with Geoff and what that might mean for our relationship. I had come to love Hopton and wanted to spend my remaining years here but could I be accepted for who I really was?

I ate a bowl of soup at lunchtime. I had no appetite for more. Instead I used some more cream to remove my body hair and giggled as I carefully left a little triangle of fuzz in my groin. My chin felt smooth but I ran an electric trimmer over the area anyway to make certain there would be no bristle. Not tonight. I wanted to have electrolysis to ensure I would never again.

I was at the Hall early as per the night before. I wanted Karen to give my hair an extra spray of hold to keep it in style and I also wanted to have some more time to take in the atmosphere around the Hall. It was a very special experience I wanted to remember. The crew and cast had become my friends over the past month of intensive rehearsals and preparations and I appreciated their friendship so much.

Everyone was buoyed from the night before and as we greeted each other our smiles were bigger and brighter than before. We had the confidence that tonight would be another great show for the audience. Even Clive seemed relax and assured as he buzzed around the Hall ensuring things were in place. He was speaking to people at the back who were in place a good hour before curtain up and three seemed more lights than before but I left that detail to the stage crew. I was an actor playing a role tonight and that was my focus.

When Geoff arrived he walked straight up to me. “Hi!” I said “Was your alarm OK?” He nodded. “Bats. Get them at this time of year, and they confuse the sensors.” He looked at Karen who was working on my make up and then whispered to me “We should talk about things.” I nodded and replied “At the interval, OK?” and he nodded his agreement. I watched him head over to his own costume area and felt something stirring within me.

We received the usual 5 minute warning and then took our places before the curtain would open. The sound of the crowd seemed louder tonight as if word had spread of last night’s success. Then we heard Clive’s intro and took collective deep breaths. We were off once more.

The lighting was definitely brighter tonight – so much that we could barely make out the size of the audience although thankfully not enough to make us squint in its glare. Our lines were sharp and perfectly placed and the audience roared with laughter. When the curtain fell after act one it was to a crescendo of applause and cheering.

Geoff walked over to me and we sat together on the set. He reached out and held my hands. “M, why did your wife leave you? It wasn’t just the waiter was it?” I shook my head and said “She designed woman’s clothing. I worked sourcing women’s clothing for the high street. She kept catching me wearing dresses and lingerie around the house. I had a closet of them just for me. I even had my own make up case and shoes. She wanted a man, Geoff, and I couldn’t be that for her.”

Geoff smiled and said “but you’re not gay” and I shook my head. “No Geoff. I’m female. It’s just that I have a male body. It’s called gender Dysphoria. My brain and body don’t match.” “That’s why you are so tactile” Geoff said and I nodded. “That’s why you pass for a woman so easily! That’s why I’ve been attracted to you from the moment I first met you. That’s why you’re such a great Mrs Burns!” I smiled and said “That’s why I am in love with you but am scared people will see my body and not my soul.”

I began crying and Geoff lifted my chin with his fingers so that our eyes met and he leaned in and kissed me passionately. Our lipstick made things slip a little but I suddenly realised I had told my truth and this wonderful man was still kissing me and any tension I had felt was gone. His muscular arms enfolded me and held me close and the tears flowed again but this time they were happy ones.

Geoff started to brush them with his finger and I laughed. “Damned hormones! I started taking oestrogen when Carol left and plan to transition. I wanted to retire as a female in a new home and start over as I was meant to be but getting early retirement meant I arrived here male!”

Geoff was about to reply when Clive found us on stage and said “Oh my Lord – Make up!!!!!” and Karen arrived to try and repair the damage we had made to each other’s faces. “A problem?” Clive asked nervously and Geoff replied “Quite the reverse, Clive. We’re better than ever now!”

Once I was returned to presentable I took a drink of water and calmed my emotions down. I still had a second half to perform but I felt a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. My secret was out and Geoff still loved me. “Places everyone” Clive called out and we got ready to finish what we had started.

If part one had gone well, part two was a triumph. Jennie and Ben were on top form and I smiled for them, envying their youth and confidence. As for Geoff and I, we were the comedy counterpoint to the angst of the young couple. We both gave a wonderful performance and when it came to that final kiss, we exchanged it with honest love. The audience even applauded that scene so hard, Jennie and Ben had to wait a few moments before they too could enjoy their denouement. The curtains fell, we moved to stage front and the curtains opened again. Even in the bright light we could see we had a standing ovation. When Geoff brought me my flowers I kissed him deeply. This was the finale I had dreamed of.

At the post show dinner Clive told us we had been filmed that night for BBC Look East and we would be on the Sunday night news. Copies of the play would be sent to the cast.

Later on, when he walked me home Geoff went down on one knee at the door of my cottage and asked me to marry him. I told him I would on certain conditions. First we’d live in my cottage because he needed to get away from the shop. Second I’d work in the shop two and a half days a week so long as he took those off and went and enjoyed a new hobby or pastime and he must employ staff so that he and I could have a day off together other than a Sunday. Also he should talk to the Council about having the store become a Community Asset owned and run by the village so that he could retire from it and leave it in the hands of the people who use it. Finally, the wedding would be after I returned from Thailand where I would have a wrong put right so that I would become Mrs Emma Louise Porter as a woman.

“And I accepted those conditions and they both lived happily ever after, The End” Geoff said.

I rolled over in our bed and looked at my husband. “Who’s telling this story you or me?” He leaned across and kissed me. “Sorry sweetheart, so how do you plan to end it?”

I felt his hands caress my enhanced breasts as I said “It’s not The End! This is just the start, my darling!” and I turned off the light while we went back to our lovemaking.

It was all because of Heather. It was her party after all and her idea as an additional element to the usual games, drinking and eating excesses that constitute our New Year’s Eve party.

The 8 of us are pretty tight as friends – we were all at Strathclyde University together, in Glasgow, and somehow we became friends who got together every New Years Eve – Hogmanay as its called north of the border – and pretend that we are still 19 year olds with our lives ahead of us. Of course, we weren’t! We were approaching 30 now and although we were hitting the peak of our physical abilities we knew that we would soon be facing out 30s and the dreaded “landmark” of a 40th birthday that signalled the descent into middle age! Those wonderful care free days of being a student were far behind us but for one night each year, we could get together and relive those days and remind ourselves that we were once young and foolish!

Our little band were in the main part still single – Graeme had married when he was 21 but they had separated by the time he was 25 and was now planning to divorce, but the rest of us were still single – although a couple of the girls were in relationships that they claimed still had potential. Their partners however had decided not to be part of the New Years party, heading elsewhere to see in the bells which would indicate that their view of the relationship was considerably less committed as their partners hoped for.

I had arrived at 8pm as per the invitation but found myself the first to arrive. It meant I was getting the 4th degree from Heather on my life choices. “Why are you still single Tim?” she asked incredulously. “You’re pretty buff for a man of your years” she said looking me up and down. “I’ll take that as a compliment” I replied and said “Look, I’ve been pretty busy work wise in setting up the company’s new office in Birmingham and I’m hoping to make Partner in the practice in the next couple of years so if Birmingham goes well, it will cement my place at the top of the pecking order.” I spewed out the usual diatribe I used to deflect the attention on my marital status which I had used to my parents and grandparents over the recent months and it was so ingrained within me that I almost believed it myself.

Jenny’s arrival at the door stopped the conversation continuing and I managed to avoid being the subject of conversation for the next 10 minutes, giving me time to down the first of many whiskies and grab a seat with a view of the television, which was showing one of those generic “review of the year” shows regurgitating news and events that we had watched many times over the past 12 months. It was as though TV stations were unmanned over the holiday season and a janitor had been left to show anything that would keep the masses quiet until January arrived. Mind you, I expected the television programming on 31 December was only ever background noise for the traditional family gatherings and parties and nobody was really watching until the clocks approached midnight and folks waited to make sure they were celebrating at the same time as the rest of the country.

Around 8.20pm my good friend Alec arrived. He had been on the same University course as me, studying Law, and he was my closest friend during the 5 years we studied together. While I had moved more into Common Law, Alec had specialised in Civil Law so we ended up in different companies but we maintained our friendship and initially would meet every other week for a beer and a chat which became monthly and then quarterly as our lives became more complex and time consuming. “Hey buddy!” I said as we greeted and did the old man hug thing – more of a chest pump than a proper arms around embrace. We hadn’t met for a few months so managed to have a good catch up chat while others from the group began to arrive.

By 9pm everyone was in the room – Fiona was looking radiant as always, Greg was morose as usual but with a glint in his eye that told you it was just something for show and underneath he was fine. Eilidh was giggling like a schoolchild before she had even touched alcohol, and Graeme was trying to sound like he was a Chief Executive even though we all knew he worked for his father’s firm and would inherit it whether he was a business guru or a complete idiot. Jenny was the level headed member of the crowd, with a masters degree to her name and a place on the board of a small Architectural partnership that was specialising in green issues and was very much on the up. Alec made up the team, still uncertain where he wanted his life to go and talking about emigration to Australia like he had done for the past 5 tears. I smiled to myself as I looked around the room. These people were my friends, warts and all, and I knew them better than anyone else on the planet.

Heather announced we would play a game where we would all be given a post-it note on our forehead with the name of a famous person on it and we would need to ask our friends questions to try to devise our given celebrity identity from responses that could only be yes or no. It was a game as old as time but when the proviso was that you could only ask the same person twice and not consecutive questions, you were forced to mingle and interact with everyone else. No “wall flowers” at this gathering! Greg managed to be first to successfully guess when he asked Eilidh if he was someone “deeply unpopular with right minded people” – bringing his usual positivity to the evening. When she said yes he said “I’m Donald Trump” and was able to remove his Post-It and relax. I was second to last when I managed to deduce that I was the late Yevgeny Prigozhin who had tried to usurp Putin’s power in Russia with the usual result.

We all got served sausage rolls, samosas and haggis pakora since none of us had succumbed to vegetarian lifestyles during our years at University and were still carnivore enough to demolish the plates presented to us. Glasses were refreshed, and everyone checked the clock to see when the big event would be taking place. It was 11.45pm – getting close to the fireworks and Auld Lang Syne when Heather announced “OK, I have a challenge for you all! In this bag I have written the titles of some of my favourite songs that mean something to me. They all have a message whether its in their title or in their lyrics so what I want is for you all to take a song from the bag and make a New Year Resolution based on the song and its message and we’ll all get together again in the summer and I want everyone to have evidence by then of having taken the song to hart and made good on their resolution.”

There was a mixture of groans and chuckles – the groans coming mainly from the males it has to be said! Heather went to her best friend Eilidh to start things off and she pulled out a small strip of paper. “Cyndi Lauper – True Colours! she announced, and Graeme shouted out “I knew she dyed her hair!” Heather smiled and said “OK, a resolution linked to that song – we’ll hear what you did in the summer!” Eilidh nodded and the bag moved on. Jenny was pleased when she read out “Paulo Nuttini – New Shoes!” and Fiona was a bit bemused with “Stevie Wonder – I Wish” but was told to listen to the lyrics and see how she felt.

Then the bag came to me. I pulled out my piece of paper and laughed “The Rembrandts – I’ll be there for you!” Heather was a huge Friends fan and knew it was likely to come up. Greg came up with “Biyonce Knowles –Single Ladies” which had the room roaring with laughter and he said “What am I meant to do with this!” which only made us laugh all the more. Graeme got “Dolly Parton – I Will Always Love You!” which made him frown somewhat and then the final pick was Alec who got “Paul Weller – The Changingman” and everyone groaned, wishing they had got one which seemed a simple invitation to buy new clothes!

Heather announced “Right, those are your songs. Get to know them and think of a resolution based on the message as you perceive it and lets see some evidence of that when we get together for a drink in the summer.” Then her attention was drawn to a countdown on the TV screen. “Oh My God – Folks, 10 seconds!! Get Ready!” We joined together in counting down the last 5 seconds of what was the “old” year and then cheered and drank a toast to the “new” as the canon on Edinburgh Castle banged to indicate the New Year had arrived. We hugged each other, drink having removed the formality and reserve we had when we had first gathered, and then the TV was turned over to one of the music stations that was playing a party mix. Champagne appeared so we could all celebrate with something bubbly and to be honest I don’t remember when or how I got home but I woke the next day with a hangover that told me I had enjoyed a late night.

The months passed and when the invitation came via e-mail from Heather to attend a summer get together at her flat I had almost forgotten about how we had agreed to get together again for “show and tell”. I felt quite pleased with myself because I had done something that fitted in well with my resolution. The post Covid work environment had meant I spent more time than before at home rather than in the office and that had opened a door I was always interested in opening while encouraging an action that this would enable. When I was growing up, we had a pet dog in the house. Buster was a golden Labrador and the best friend a kid like me could hope for, I had just left for University when my Dad told me he had died and I remember crying so hard at one of my lectures I had to lie and say it was my grandfather who had passed!

Now that I was home so much, I could get a dog for company and the regular walks would solve another issue I had noted – that working from home had meant some days I barely moved from my computer desk all day. Now I would be outside giving my new companion and myself the much needed exercise to keep us fit. I went to my local Dog Charity and took a rescue dog – a year old cockapoo which had been just too lively for its elderly owner to cope with. I considered myself to be doing a good deed giving the dog a new home and that fitted in with the Friend’s theme tune “I’ll Be There For You” so I uploaded one of the many photos of my new best friend and printed it out to take to the summer gathering, As I did so I realised I hadn’t had my usual get together with Alec and would need to apologise for not getting in touch since the Hogmanay party when I saw him.

The night of the party came around and my neighbour took “Ross” for the evening. Yes, my dog had the same name as the character in Friends but it was also because my family had links to the Ross & Cromarty area of Scotland and it was also my middle name. I told them it would be a late night but was told that wasn’t a problem and I headed off with my dogs photo and the smug satisfaction that I would be fulfilling my New Year Resolution.

Perhaps I am habitually punctual but I was first at Heather’s house that Friday night and we hugged each other as usual. “Tell me you’re seeing someone new!” she said to me eagerly and I laughed. “Heather, you’re trying to play the matchmaker with me aren’t you? There’s no romance I can tell you but there is someone new in my life but I’ll tell you who when you check our resolutions!” She smiled and said “Intriguing! I can’t wait to hear!” As we caught up with her own news, more of the gang arrived until eventually all but one had appeared. Heather checked her clock and said “We shouldn’t start till Alec is here – I got an e-mail to say he would be attending.” We agreed to wait but at that moment there was the sound of the doorbell and we all relaxed. Alec had arrived.

When Heather opened the door, however, she was met by an attractive brunette wearing a sweater dress that stopped above the knee and showed off two hairless and shapely legs that lead down to bright red three inch heels with open toes displaying manicured and varnished toes. “Sorry I’m late” she said in a husky voice as she walked confidently past her host and into the room where we were all seated. Heather followed, confused and concerned about the gatecrasher. As all heads turned to see the newcomer, she smiled broadly and said “Hi everyone – lovely to see you all again! I’m Alexis – at least I have been for the past 3 months! You might remember at Hogmanay your friend Alec got a song called The Changingman for his New Year Resolution. Well Alec took the title to heart. He had been struggling with his sexuality for years and had been cross dressing at home for some time and when he was given the song as a challenge he thought it was time to take the plunge and display full time as a woman.”

My face matched those of my other friends. We were in shock and confusion! Our friend we had known for over 10 years was stood in front of us “en femme” and convincingly so. What’s more, he had never looked happier. Alexis continued “Heather, I can’t thank you enough for giving me the push into femininity – I’ve spent years trying to pluck up the courage without success. Now I wish I had done this a decade ago!”

Heather gave Alexis a hug and then Fiona, Eilidh and Heather joined it, giggling as Alexis asked them “what do you think, girls, can I come out the closet now?” They all gushed that Alexis looked fabulous and they were in awe at her figure. Greg, Graeme and I looked at each other and shook our heads. None of us had seen this coming and like typical men none of us knew just how to react. I was particularly torn. Alec had been my closest University friend and someone I thought I knew better than the others. He had completely caught me off guard with this transformation and I felt slightly angry that I hadn’t known or been asked for advice or support. At the same time another emotion was making things more difficult, I was finding Alexis attractive.

“OK so that’s my Resolution contribution” Alexis announced with a smile. “Who’s next?”

Everyone looked at each other and shrugged shoulders. “Em, I don’t think anyone else has anything as dramatic to report but can we go around the room and see what you’ve committed to this year?” Heather asked and Eilidh started “Yea, well, I got True Colours and I took that as a call to see people for who they really are and so I got back in touch with my sister who I haven’t spoken to in 4 years since she came out as lesbian. I realised that this was more about my attitude to her rather than her attitude to me and she is still the sister I loved before. My resolution was to rebuild our relationship and here’s a photo of the two if us together at the LGBTQ Mardi Gras last month.”
We smiled, hugged and congratulated Eilidh and the stories began to flow.

Fiona said that after listening to “I Wish” she had looked back at her past when she was at her happiest and realised she wanted to work in the Childcare sector helping disadvantaged children have he happiness she had enjoyed at school and was already attending classes to gain a qualification to allow her to make the career change. Greg had taken “Single Ladies” to realise he had been too scared of commitment in his relationships to date and had made a resolution to be more open about his feelings and be more accepting of the feelings of others, As a result he had started seeing a girl from his office and his face softened and a smile appeared which gave everyone in the room a shock and a clear indication that his days as a grouch were numbered.

Graeme announced that Dolly Parton’s iconic love song had made him reconsider his own emotional commitment and he made his resolution to rebuild the relationship with his estranged wife who he knew was still fond of him. He had come to realise that the marriage had failed because he had not been mature enough at the time and he was taking small steps back starting with calling off their divorce.

Jenny said her “New Shoes” inspiration had shown her she was too work orientated and had made a resolution to do more things away from the work environment. She had joined a rambling club, bought new walking boots and was now spending weekends doing hill walking with a mixed crowd and was loving the open air and exercise as well as the social aspect. She said that she was fond of one of the male participants and could see a relationship potential for the future.

Eyes fell to me and I explained how “I’ll Be There For You” had inspired me to adopt an abandoned dog and give it a new home and presented Ross’s photo to the smiles of the audience. Heather then brought out a bottle of champagne and said “Lets all drink to the Resolutions we have made and the better lives we are going to live as a result!” We clinked glasses and supped our drink and the music began and everyone sat down to chat to their friends. I found myself next to Alexis and I turned to her and said “I wish I had known and could have been a help to you!” She smiled and said “I had an internal battle only I could resolve, Tim. I hope we can still remain friends?” I reached across and took her hand in mine. “Alexis, I’ve let our friendship slip over the years. I promise to be a more frequent part of your life again and whatever happens in the months ahead, I’ll be there for you!” I said and watched as Alexis smiled.

“Sounds like your resolution isn’t just for your dog, then?” she said and I smiled. “I promise to be your best friend, Alexis” I said and looked her in the eye, The distance between us reduced in slow motion as we both realised our bond was as strong as it ever had been and my world stood still as Alexis’s ruby red lips met mine. When they parted both our mouths were smiling and I felt Alexis squeeze my hand. “I’d like us to find the closeness we once shared again, Tim. You’re a very special friend and I’ve always looked up to you as someone I could rely on.” Without invitation, I moved in again for another kiss, realising that I had found someone I loved and who loved me back.

“Hey Heather?” Graeme called out. “You never told us YOUR resolution! What was YOUR song?” All our attention turned to our host who was stood laughing. “My favourite song is Sting’s Spread A Little Happiness and I think I achieved that with all of you!”

Alexis giggled “You know, Tim, we really should thank Heather for reuniting us and giving us a future together!” and that was exactly what we did three years later when she was the chief bridesmaid at our wedding. That year we both made a resolution to live happily ever after and we intend to do just that.

My Hero
A first (short) story by Suzi Auchentiber - I made it my New Year Resolution to try to join the ranks of writers and not just be an avid reader . . .just hope I can cut the mustard!

Jake and I had always been friends growing up. We first met in pre-school and then found ourselves in the same class in Primary – his surname being Williams and mine Wilson meant we were in the same teaching room - and we didn’t live so far apart that we couldn’t see each other after school or at weekends. Our parents soon saw our bond so helped facilitate shared playdates and communal visits to the Circus or Fairground when they came to town. We just seemed to click.

When we reached secondary education, we maintained the bond we had established, even though there were lots more kids around. We had joined the Boy Scouts together since we were always playing outdoors when we were little and had gone on camping holidays with our respective fathers showing us the joys of the great outdoors. The first split came when we tried out for the school football team and I didn’t make the cut. To be fair, I was never that good at it – I lacked the intensity and physicality that the sport demanded – but Jake was really good. He was developing a stronger physique than I had and seemed to have a steely determination that was gradually making him the dominant partner in our friendship. Not in a nasty way, you understand but he was the one who would say “Lets do this!” and “Come on, you can manage it” and I began to become the follower rather than the instigator.

We had other friends or course – there was a loose band of probably a dozen males who tended to do things together – but Jake remained loyal to me, his oldest friend, and I was loyal to him. We had a similar sense of humour and similar values. We had a bond that had been built up over the years and he knew I had his back just as he had mine. Jake had matured into a 6ft tall athletically built young man while I had my mother’s genes dominating my growth – or lack of growth. I claimed 5ft 7inches but was closer to 5ft 6 and was slender in shape. When Jake and I were together it was a real little and large affair but to his credit, he never brought the height difference up – we were mates and our friendship was rock solid.

It was the last year of school and a bunch of us had decided we would do the West Highland Way – a 100 mile walk through the beautiful highlands of Scotland from the outskirts of Glasgow to the coastal town of Fort William. We guessed we could complete the walk during our 2 week Easter break. One of our friends had just lost his mother to breast cancer so we decided we would get sponsorship to raise money for that charity. For a laugh we all agreed we would wear something pink for the walk since that was the charity’s official colour.

Plans were made and some training done. Taking an extended walk requires appropriate footwear and feet that have been prepared for the daily grind on rough paths and a decent pair of walking boots need to be broken in to avoid blisters that would make walking impossible. We gave our schoolmates plenty of time to support us financially and they did a wonderful job helping us exceed our target of £5000, while local businesses helped by donating tents and sleeping bags so that we had good kit for our mission.

By the time we set off everyone was in high spirits, confident that the journey would be completed comfortably and we would return as heroes in 10 days time.

Jake was the de facto leader of the expedition on account of the fact he was made male school captain by the Headmaster on account of his excellent academic results and prowess in the sporting field. As we drove up to the starting point of the walk I looked at him sitting next to me and thought about what a great guy he was: Confident but not arrogant with it: Strong but not aggressively so; Handsome but not in a showy way. Wait, did I just think of my friend as handsome?

Jake had no shortage of female attention – always had attracted the ladies with his athleticism and charm – but neither of us had a serious girl friend as such. We were only 17 and were still finding out what we were looking for in a partner. Sure we had kissed our share of girls and even slept with a couple but we were not committed to any of them. We had so much going on with school and planning the next step to university, college or straight into the workplace that we knew we had some important decisions on what direction we were going to take that needed making. The distraction of our hormones – we needed to suppress until we knew our future path in life. This charity walk was a great opportunity to escape that pressure for a little while and just enjoy the company of friends.

When we got off the minibus at the official starting point at Milngavie – pronounced “mill guy” – the 8 of us posed for a team photo. Some of the guys wore pink t-shirts or shorts, others a pink hat. For a laugh I had a pink tutu on over my shorts and Jake had a pair of pink joggers. We smiled for the camera and then our “support vehicle” left us, wishing us well and telling us they would see us in 100 miles time.

With a bunch of high fives and cries of “let’s do this” we motivated ourselves for the task ahead and I set my size 6 hiking boot down on the first step of the journey. We knew the importance of pacing ourselves so we didn’t want to expend all our energies on day 1. We had a plan to walk no more than 15 miles in order to save our feet for the more arduous stretches deeper into the forests that lay ahead.

Inevitably, we split into our regular groups, walking alongside our friends and I found myself alongside Jake at the front of the pack, leading the way. “Tell me if I am going too fast” he said to me which stung a little. “You think I can’t keep up?” I growled back. “No, but I know I tend to stride out sometimes. My dad used to call me out for it. Said I’m too competitive, always trying to be the best at everything, trying to be the alpha male. He said it’s a sign of insecurity.”

I almost stopped in my tracks but Jake was still marching on so I jogged after him as best I could. “You? Insecure? Where did THAT come from?” Jake shrugged. “Dunno. But I sometimes think my Dad sees me as the man he wanted to be or something, you know? It’s almost like he’s jealous of me sometimes. It’s kind of weird because I’m kind of jealous of him, you know? Being a nurse and all, helping people, being compassionate, making a real difference to people’s lives when they are at a low point.”

I bounced alongside my friend looking up at his frowning face. “Is that why you’re looking at a career in Medicine?” I asked and he nodded. “Yea, I want to follow in my Dad’s tracks and make my parents proud.” I smiled at him and replied “Oh I think they’re proud of you already, buddy, with all you’ve achieved so far.” Then he turned to me and for the first time I saw vulnerability in his eyes as he said “Thanks Pete, I really hope so” and then he added as he marched onwards “I just hope they love me for just being me, you know?”

We passed Drymen and began the first serious climb of the walk. We knew that in a couple of miles there was a campsite we could pitch our tents at and rest up. Sure enough we came to a clearing and called it a day. Being former Scouts most of us knew how to set up a fire to heat up the pre-prepared meals we had brought along with us - no skinning rabbits on this walk, we were hardly in the outback!

Round the fire we told jokes and talked sport and did all the usual male stuff, joshing about each other and choosing who was going to reach Fort William first and who was going to be the first to need evacuated by the support team. Jake was of course the favourite to be first and I as the smallest was deemed most likely to fail. I took that as encouragement to prove them all wrong while Jake just seemed slightly embarrassed by the praise. Modesty seemed to be another of his many assets.

Jake and I shared a tent, like we always had in our Scouts days. His powerful arms drove the hammer down on the pegs to ensure we had the most secure tent of the 4 and once we had the ground sheet in place and the sleeping bags rolled out we undressed for bed. As usual the pair of us turned our backs on each other for some small element of privacy even though we were sleeping inches apart. It was something we hadn’t bothered to do when we were in Primary school but ever since puberty started making changes to our bodies we found it a better option. Besides which, I always felt somehow inferior to Jake’ and his rippling muscles.

Day two began with a climb up to around 900ft before a steep drop down hill to a relatively flat section of the walk and we made good time along that path. The walking was straightforward, and the weather was benign and nobody doubted that they would be able to complete the walk.

During the day Jake and I recalled old times together like when we had made a den in the woods near his house. It was our own little home away from our parents where we felt “independent” for the first time. We constructed it from branches, leaves, moss and whatever items we could adapt from our surroundings, making little beds of the same. Jake laughed. “We were only like 6 years old then, I think it would take a whole lot more branches and leaves to cover us these days – well, me anyway! Besides, our den was only to play in, not sleep overnight!” He looked at me and smiled. “Those were great times, Pete, weren’t they?” I nodded. “The best! Just you and me and the great outdoors!” There was a smile on both our faces for the next 10 minutes without another word spoken as we each remembered our time spent playing together.

Spirits were still high and by the time we set up camp we were approaching the hamlet of Inverarnan where the track starts to climb up into the mountains and the terrain is more challenging. Nobody was suffering from blisters or struggling with their kit and the weather had been kind to us.

However, the next two days were less fun as the rain began to fall and the climbs became steeper and more draining on the group’s stamina. Our tents were getting wet and it was more and more difficult to dry off our clothing. We sat around the fire in the evenings drying out our socks and shirts, trying not to burn them in the process.

On night number 4 when we were turning in after our meal I accidentally glanced across at Jake before he had finished getting into his sleeping bag. It wasn’t just the pecks he had on his chest that caught my eye but his underwear. Now I know every man’s undies are a matter for them and them alone but I could have sworn that I caught a glimpse of lace panties.

We said our goodnights and turned over to sleep but I lay there wondering why he was wearing trophy knickers, no doubt taken from one of his adoring harem that followed his every move. “You lucky dog!” I thought to myself and my admiration for the man went up another notch, as though it wasn’t high enough,

Walking on a forest path in the rain is tough. The mud and earth become soft and it takes more energy to make every step. Add to that the fact that you are climbing up and down hills that stretch up to 1500ft above sea level and you can see how many people find it too hard to complete the Walk in one go, stopping to rest for a few days before taking on the next section. We did not have such an option, We had school to go back to and sponsors to satisfy that we had completed our objective as planned. We were not taking foolish risks but we were walking on when, if we had we been on our own, we may have thought differently.

We bolstered each other’s confidence and kept spirits up quoting sketches from comedy TV shows and films – anything to keep morale high. When we camped up on night 6 we were beginning to weary. There was a twisted ankle that had been bound and bandaged but still gave pain; a gashed shin that had fallen foul of an unseen rock, and most of us had been bitten by the dreaded midges – tiny flies with ferocious bites that love nothing more than warm, wet weather in the Scottish countryside. No amount of calamine lotion would give us relief and it was all we could do to stop ourselves scratching the swollen bite marks across our arms and legs.

For all that Jake and I were best buddies, we had run out of things to talk to each other about. Like the rest of the bunch we were walking in virtual silence now. We were focussed on the path ahead, making sure we kept up with the others and cursed the bugs that were now gathered in swarms. Before we bedded down for night number 7 I noticed Jake surreptitiously popping a tablet from a strip and placing it in his mouth. I didn’t mention it to him though, it was his body and up to him what he did to it but I suddenly realised why he was built like he was. There were rumours around school of steroids being taken by some of the school’s track and field stars in order to improve performance. It looked as though Jake’s unrivalled strength and stamina had come from a stimulant. I vowed that my own performance on this walk would be as a result of my own abilities and not from some pharmaceutical.

The next day was one I would never forget. We were within a couple of days of our objective and in determinded mood as we left a campsite near to Kingshouse to make the tallest assent of the whole route up the side of the 1500ft tall hill named Etive Mor on a narrow track known as The Devils Staircase. The rain poured down and my backpack felt like a ton weight. As ever, Jake was carrying our tent along with his own backpack proving he was a true powerhouse of a man and in my eyes a real action hero! Yes, he seemed to have his own little frailties such as the steroids which was disappointing but I remembered my father quoting the bible “do not judge or you too may be judged” and knew that we all had our personal weaknesses.

The path was slick and muddy and we were pretty much walking in single file to keep away from the edge of the ridge and get some decent traction underfoot. I had slipped to the back of the bunch and was contemplating what my dad had said about judging people too harshly when there was a rumbling sound and a landslide came down the side of the hill on my right hand side, knocking me off my feet and carrying me over the edge of the ridge. It took only a couple of seconds for me to be engulfed in mud and rock and sent head over heels down the steep slope of the ridge to a flatter section and deposited 100ft below the path that I had been walking a moment before. I must have been knocked unconscious for a few moments in the fall but when I came around I found I was lying in a burn with cold water running across me and getting into my nose and mouth. I was unable to move and I was alone. In that moment I told myself that this was it. I was going to die.

That was before I heard a familiar voice shouting. “Pete? Pete? Stay with me Pete! I’ve got you now.” As I realised I was saved the voice continued barking commands to the others on the ridge above us. ”Graeme? Try and call Mountain Rescue and give them our co-ordinates. Maybe get a little higher up the hill to get a signal. Dave – Alastair - Gordon? You three go back to that cottage we passed an hour ago and see if they can summon help. Raymond and Alex, you pair head on – there should be a bothy about 10 miles up the path and it should have a phone you can call for help from. Tell them Pete was swept down the hill and has a broken leg!”

That was the first I knew of that injury. The shock and the cold water had numbed my senses. Jake was holding my head out of the water and cradling it in his arm. He looked down at me with genuine concern. “Are you OK, Pete? Seriously? I . . I couldn’t bear to lose you!” I coughed up some of the water I had been lying in as Jake turned my head so that I would empty my mouth of its contents. I managed a weak smile. “Jake, thank you! Oh thank you, Jake - you’re my hero! You’ve just saved my life! You wonderful guy, I could kiss you!” He turned his head away from me and I could see a tear roll down his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, still in a daze from the fall. He shook his head. “Nothing. Just. . . just take it easy and we’ll get you to hospital soon.” “No, Jake, please talk to me! I C’mon, it’s me you’re talking to! We can say anything to each other, you know that and I love you big guy, please?” My plea seemed to affect him more and the tears now rolled down his face. “I thought I had lost you Pete and I love you so much I could never cope without you. I love you more than you can ever know!” And that was when Jake and I had our first and last kiss. There in a burn on a hill, covered in mud and rock, my best friend and I locked lips and kissed.

I broke off and had a fit of coughing and snorting. “Was it that bad?” Jake asked with a worried look and I shook my head. “I had a bunch of mud up my nose – couldn’t breathe and nearly choked on what I was sucking in!” We smiled at each other and looked each other in the eyes. “You never told me you were gay” I said, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t confided the fact to me, but his reply shocked me more. “I’m not. It’s more than that, Pete. I’m not a man.”

He turned away and I could see fresh tears fall down his face. “Jake? What do you mean?” He took a deep sigh and said “I’ve been pretending to be a boy all my life because I was born with boy bits, but inside I am a girl. My dad and mum made sure I did all the normal boy activities and sports and encouraged me to be the best boy I could be but deep down I wanted to play with my sister’s dollies. I wanted to wear my sister’s pretty dresses. II wanted to play mummies and daddies with you where I was the mummy. I wanted to talk about boy bands and make up and fashion with the girls at school. I wanted to be your girlfriend – still do I guess” he said and looked away from me, embarrassed by his admission. “This macho male thing is just a façade.”

“So, why do you take steroids?” I asked, making him turn with a puzzled look on his face. “Jake I saw you take a tablet last night and the pack had lots of empty slots”, He shook his head. “Its estrogen I take. I came out to my parents 2 years ago and the Doctors have started me on female hormones now. I’ve convinced the shrinks that I am mentally a woman and I’m hoping to have SRS in a couple of year’s time.”

I began to feel a little woozy as the shock of the fall was wearing off but continued “So your chest . .“ and he smiled “Yea, I’m getting my own boobs at last.” “And the panties?” He looked shocked so I continued “I caught a peep the other night by mistake. Kind of sweet though!” He nodded, yea they are mine, and so are these pink joggers. I’ve got a whole wardrobe of clothes and wigs at home for when I can be myself. Hey, want to hear something funny?” I looked at him and said “Go on . . “

“Well, you talked me a few weeks back in the coffee shop in the mall! You were very charming! You let me go before you in the queue.” I cast my mind back and remembered the tall girl in the queue behind me and giving her some cheesy line about ladies first. But then, I was always the gentleman.

He looked down at my broken body covered in debris and I tried to joke. “Guess my Tutu didn’t make it huh?” He shook his head and said “I was going to ask to borrow it, too! I’ve got a leotard that it would have gone well with.”

I looked up into the face of my dearest friend and said “You shouldn’t have kept this from me, Jake. I’m always there for you, you know that!”

“I couldn’t let it be known around school” he pleaded. “I was too scared to admit how I felt when I was young so I overcompensated and by the time we came to secondary school I had built such a strong façade I had to stay with it, at least till I could leave school behind. Promise you won’t tell?”

I grimaced as my leg began to tell me how badly it had been shattered and said “I promise so long as you let me take you out on a date as soon as my leg is fixed. You’ve just saved my life and I owe you at least one classy meal together - and I want you in a dress, no trousers or jeans you hear?” Then I paused. “Hey wait, what’s your real name, because I know you’re not really Jake, are you?” He shook his head. “I’d prefer Hailey.” I smiled “Nice to meet you Hailey, Now that you’re officially my girlfriend, can I have another kiss please?”

That’s when Hailey and I had our first kiss, a heartfelt, loving kiss that came from our hearts.

There were many other kisses, such as when the Mountain Rescue team helicoptered us both off the hill and down to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Glasgow, and then in the months that followed when Hailey got her chance to be a nurse and look after her most important patient. I guess I already knew Hailey through Jake but over the months of rehab, I got to know the woman that was my best friend. I loved her every bit as much as much as I had loved Jake, if not more, now that she was truly happy in herself. Since we both were studying in Glasgow – her at Medical School and I in Strathclyde University (doing Geography if you must know) we moved in together and are planning on marrying once her SRS is done and her legal status is how she and I see it already.

Love doesn’t bother with sexuality, or shape. Love doesn’t see a skin tone or a religion. Love doesn’t see your politics or affiliations. Love comes from the heart and soul and that’s how I love Hailey – with all my heart and soul. My one true love. My hero.

Part One - A son's sense of duty . . . .

Mum’s health had been declining for a couple of years now and in her late eighties everything seemed to be failing. That was why my sister and I decided she could not look after herself anymore and putting her into a care home was the kindest thing for her.

We had selected one close to where we both lived, in the West End of Glasgow, which would make it easier for us both to visit her and where she would feel most comfortable amongst people who knew the same streets and surroundings that she knew. This was something her Doctor had encouraged – reducing her stress levels was important for her wellbeing and familiarity would keep her calmer than a strange environment.

To that end my sister and I had decorated her room in the care home with the same pictures and décor that had been in her old home. The old family photos, the tapestry she had worked on and framed showing a favourite landscape, even the drawings my sister’s kids had done for their grandma and had been hung on the kitchen fridge for the past 10 years were there next to her bed. All designed to give her a sense of wellbeing as her mental facilities slid away along with her physical capabilities.

Old age sucked but it beat dying young.

Mum had been in the care home for almost a year now and had settled well enough for my sister and I to feel comfortable with what we had done and with the care mother was getting. We were able to get on with our own lives again, safe in the knowledge she was being looked after.

I was relaxed that Thursday evening as I walked into the Niaroo Care Home for visiting time and greeted the receptionist I had come to know rather well over recent months.

“Evening Moira! How are you today?”

“Fine, Angus, yourself?”

“Getting there! Is she OK to visit?”

“Yes, bless her, she’s been fed and changed.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you on my way out.”

Care homes always have the same smell. It’s the smell of air freshener desperately working to cover the odour of incontinence and decay - and failing. It’s a strange mixture and after 10 minutes or so of visiting you almost get used to it, but your first few minutes are always the worst.

We had placed Mum into care just at the end of the Covid pandemic restrictions when there were, tragically, vacancies in most care homes in the area. It allowed us a reason to wear face masks to reduce access to the smell but as mother’s mental capacity diminished we removed the face masks to give her better sight of her family to spark the recognition that she was with her children again.

“Hi Mum” I called out as I opened the door to her room and gave it a knock – a token display that she still had some privacy which of course she didn’t. “Its me, Angus.”

“Who? Who’s that?”

“Its me, Mum, Angus. Just popped round to see how you are today” I said as I walked up to her bed and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Angus? Oh hello, son, how are you?” she said, sounding quite deflated. I spent the next few moments filling her in on my day and giving her whatever news I thought might have been of interest to her but I could see in her face that she wasn’t really interested in what I was telling her, her world having shrunk to what went on within the rooms she visited in Niaroo Care Home.

Almost before I had finished talking Mum began telling me about some other woman in the care home and what her family did for a living. Her faltering voice and struggle to find words making a sentence take 5 minutes to present. I was used to it, but it still drove a dagger through my heart. “Her son’s in the Air Force, you know, a pilot on fast planes!” I doubt if it was meant to be a barb at my career choices but I took it as one, as I always do. I am a self employed window dresser to trade. I had a decent business going, designing and installing displays for major High Street chains such as Top Shop, British Home Stores, Selfridges and Debenhams. The high street retain decline was gradually reducing my workload of course but when Covid struck I found my customers dropping like flies and soon I was struggling.

Mum was still chattering away about some fellow resident in the care home whose daughter was separated from her partner and how she used to know someone who lived near us but couldn’t remember who that was and I found myself just sitting and nodding and taking no real interest and what she was telling me. Like most visits, it was more through a sense of duty to present myself than a real pleasure. Tick off the hour like a faithful son.

”I told her how you’ve got a little boy and girl and your husband is a successful lawyer, Susan” she said to me and I smiled and shook my head. “Mum, I’m Angus! Susan’s not here at the moment! She couldn’t come today, remember?” Mum turned to me and looked at me with a frown. “So who are you?” she asked, looking more confused. “Mum, I’m Angus – Susan’s away with the kids at the moment because its half term at the school.”

“so why are you not away with her and the children, dear?” she asked, her frown deepening. I shook my head. “Susan’s husband is away with her and their children, Mum. I don’t have any children, I’m single remember?” I said, hoping she would recover her memory and change the topic. However, I wasn’t so lucky. “So who are you, then?” she demanded – her voice getting louder and more urgent. “Where’s Susan? Tell her I want to see her!! Who ARE you? NURSE !! NURSE!!!” she shouted, attracting one of the Care Home staff to enter the room.

“What’s the problem Mrs Aird?” she asked as she reached for my mother’s wrist to check her pulse rate.

“This man has come to see me and he tells me he doesn’t have any children and that I can’t see my daughter! I want to see Susan, will you tell her to come in tomorrow to see me? Can you phone her number – I’ve got a note of it somewhere . . .” and she turned to look for her diary in her bedside cabinet.

The care home worker smiled at me and said “Its OK Mrs Aird, we’ve got a note of your daughter’s number. Don’t you want to talk to your son, here? He’s come to see you tonight!” Mum shook her head and mumbled “Get Susan to come and see me!! Susan comes to see me and she’ll look after me. I want to see Susan!!”

My mother was getting more and more agitated and the care worker made a face to me and nodded her head towards the door as she pressed an alert button at the side of my mother’s bed for assistance. I got to my feet and said “OK, Mum. I’ll need to head off now. Take care and I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?” There was no reaction to what I had said, instead my mum was babbling anxiously about Susan and how she would look after her. I sighed and made my way outside.

I decided to wait and talk to the staff member about what had happened so I sat and waited while another member of the team went into the room with some medication and a glass of water. I could hear them trying to calm my mum down and reassuring her that Susan would be visiting her very soon and everything would be fine. It made me feel frustrated.

I was the first born in the family and always felt I had a bond with my mother but her failing mental health seemed to have excluded me from her cognisance of the family. I was becoming more and more marginalised in her memory. Here tonight she had gotten to the point of almost treating me like a stranger. I knew it was her illness that was making her act that way but it was still hard to hear her voice saying those hurtful words towards me.

Eventually the original staff member came out of the room. She gave me a weak smile. “Sorry, she’s a little confused these days. We’ve sedated her to get her heart rate down and we’ll keep an eye on her tonight to make sure she has a good sleep. Would it be possible for your sister to call in tomorrow? She seems to be adamant she wants to see her and I’m sure that would get her back on an even keel?”

I shook my head. “Its half term – the four of them are away up to the Isle of Harris. They’ve rented a yurt up there and are kayaking and hill walking this week. Susan had explained that to her before she went but its clearly not registered!”

There was a pause and then the reply came “Well, we’ll see. Maybe tomorrow she will remember where she is and will be OK” I nodded and said “Let’s hope. I’ll drop round to visit anyway and fingers crossed. . . . “ She smiled and nodded. “OK, sorry about this.”

I headed back home feeling frustrated and upset. It was never nice seeing my mother confused and I knew that it was unlikely she would ever get back to being the sharp, witty woman she had been most of her life. I wasn’t ready for her to stop recognising who I was and wanted to be able to comfort her and calm her with my presence. I needed that kind of closure and not have her fade away without me there in her life.

I didn’t sleep well that night. My mind replayed the conversations I had had with Mum the night before. First she told me Susan’s kids were mine, then she asked why I wasn’t away with Susan and her kids as though I was her husband and then she had asked me – for the second time in 10 minutes – who I was. It unsettled me.

Susan’s home was a grander place than mine and actually closer to the care home and I had agreed to keep an eye on it while they were away since her husband David got a lot of mail through his charitable work offering legal advice to small trusts who could not afford to employ their own legal team. After I had finished breakfast and cleaned up I decided to walk round to the house to check all was well and clear my head.

On the way I tried phoning Susan’s mobile but I just got sent to her voicemail as there was no connection to her handset. I didn’t bother leaving a message as I didn’t want her to think there was an emergency that would require them to cut short their holiday. I knew with their busy schedules family time together was a scarce and much valued commodity and they had been talking about this trip for some time.

I opened the front doors, quickly disconnected the alarm system and closed the door behind me. I did the customary moving of the morning mail from behind the door and then a check on the back door and kitchen to ensure there was no sign of intruders at the rear of the building. Then I took the mail through to the lounge to sit with the rest of the pile.

That was when I saw it. Framed and on the display case next to Susan’s chair - the photo taken of my sister and myself with Mum on her 75th birthday a few years before. People had commented on it and I had never really paid attention to what they had said but looking at the photos I saw what they had seen - the family resemblance. My sister was a carbon copy of myself. Or to put it another way, I looked just like my sister.

That’s not to say we were identical – we clearly were not! She was a female and I was a male and there was no doubt which of us was which but an idea began to ferment within me and it began to make more and more sense to me. So much so that I immediately went to the door, reset the alarm and departed back to my flat – almost breaking into a run in my eagerness to put my theory to the test.

I headed immediately to the lock up where I stored my works van and my stock of manikins, backdrops, stands and associated accessories I used to frame my window displays. One of the recent store closures in town had been the Long Tall Sally outlet – a store for the taller, larger female which had sadly become another name moving off the high street and becoming “on-line” only. I had received a call telling me I had 3 hours to collect anything that was mine before the doors would be locked and I had grabbed my displays and thrown them into the van with literally minutes to spare.

The thing is, some of the manikins were still dressed. The store manager said it didn’t matter as she would bin display clothing anyway as it could not be sold to the public. That meant I had some female clothing in a larger size. My theory was crazy but with my mum’s poor eyesight and slightly wandered mental state, I could turn up at the Care Home dressed like Susan and looking like her enough to convince her that her daughter was in the room.

I knew Susan’s mannerisms and speech pattern well enough and I knew all her stories and could even mimic her a little bit. Could I be convincing enough to put my mum at ease again and have her relax to lower her stress levels? It might just work and with Susan coming back home at the weekend I would only need to “present” as her a couple of times before the real thing was available once more. I decided it was worth a shot.

From the “Sally Stash” I found a floral peasant blouse along with a display bra and boosters, size 20 skinny jeans that would fit me and a pair of heeled ankle boots in female size 11 which would fit my male size 10 feet. I had a range of wigs in a box for general use and found a brunette example that best matched Susan’s colouring although it was a little shorter than she usually had hers. I would need to remember that when I walked into mum’s room later.

I took my selected clothing and placed them in a bag to carry back to the flat and in the privacy of my room I changed into the outfit. I only allowed myself to look at the mirror once I had placed the wig on top of my head. At first I thought there was some trick being played on my eyes but then I came to realise that the girl in the mirror was me. “Damn!” I said to myself “This might actually work!”

Sam had played rugby ever since starting secondary school. They enjoyed it so much they decided to keep it up even after graduating and moving on to college. They figured it was a great way to keep in shape and also to support their local Sports Club which had come close to shutting down for a lack of finance. Thankfully grant aid was found from a charity that demanded that everything at the Club was inclusive. Nobody should be denied access to sport on the grounds of ethnicity, religion, sex, or social standing, they said. Sport should be an outlet for all in the community to enjoy together and be used as a conduit for greater understanding and community spirit.

Sam was one of the first to sign up for the Rugby squad, having become proficient in the sport and having a genuine enthusiasm for the game. Shorter than the rest of the team and fleeter of foot than most, the coach had no hesitation when choosing who would be scrum half for the team. With good hands, a quick turn of pace and good on field vision, Sam was the obvious contender.

Alex and Joe had joined the Rugby squad at the same time as Sam and together they were the three amigos, thick as thieves and fiercely loyal to each other to the extent that if any opposition tried to rough one of them up during a match, the other pair would ensure the next tackle would involve a tweak of a tender area, or a knee that would make their eyes water and remind them not to mess with the wrong people. Rugby was a game where no quarter was asked or given and you left everything you had out on the pitch. At full time, you shook hands with your opponents, and with the referee, and then retired to the bar for communal drinks.

The 2023-24 season had started well with four wins and only one defeat before the traditional pause in games around the Festive Season. It wasn’t so much a time to rest on one’s laurels but more a time to recover from niggling injuries sustained in those five matches or to rest weary limbs and prepare for the remainder of the season which would end in March.

The team had a strict code of conduct reminding players that it was their duty to themselves and to their fellow players to maintain their fitness levels, avoid excesses and be prepared for the pre-match training in the second week of January. However there was another unwritten rule. Christmas was for spending with family, New Year was for spending with the ones you love and the first weekend after New Year was when the squad partied together.

This year’s venue was a Country House Hotel 30 miles out of town – the ideal location for a wild evening of excess where nobody would know you and the proverbial hair could be let down – although as any Rugby player will tell you, hair is simply something else your opposition can pull you by or can get into your eyes when you don’t want it to and so the squad maintained a tightly trimmed cut across the board.

Alex and Joe were sharing a twin room but Sam had been fortunate enough to snag one of the single occupancy rooms so it was a case of dumping the bag, smartening up the appearance and then heading down to the bar for the first of the pre meal drinks. The banter as usual was flowing as everyone was still in the festive season spirit, and the bar area filled quickly. The event wasn’t just for the first fifteen - other members of the club squad and the ancillary staff were included so physiotherapists, trainers, office staff and even the cheer leading squad were invited. It made for a crowded and noisy room.

The mood was celebratory and everyone mingled and shared their usual line of jokes and jibes but as usually the case with sports clubs, there was a common respect and mutual admiration. They were a band of brothers shared a club crest on their shirts that was older than they were and would be worn by generations to follow them. They were the current generation of Academicals and hoped they would write their own names in the history books before they had to pass the baton.

Sam glanced around the other players jostling for a place at the bar where they could order the pints of ale that would only act as an aperitif for the evening’s excesses. There was the odd crooked nose from an on-pitch break that didn’t quite reset as it should, and some of the older players had ears that showed the damage from regular tugs and damage from scrums and rucks. It was a tough job maintaining your good looks when you played Rugby although being scrum half, Sam’s job was simply to feed the ball in and quickly distribute it again once it emerged from the back of the pack. The others could gouge and bang heads with the opposition. Unlike its trans Atlantic cousin American Football, Rugby was played without padding or protection – items such as shin guards, mouth guards and the “box” worn to protect a gentleman’s “tackle” were allowed but not compulsory. The impact of two 18 stone males running into each other was just as severe in both sports but in Rugby there was nothing to prevent elbow from hitting head or shoulder to bash into chest. It was a man’s sport, Sam thought, and smiled to think how long the American’s would survive playing in such conditions.

It was approaching 8pm when the barman rang the bell loudly to attract people’s attention. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Will you please be seated for dinner!” a Hotel staff member announced from the doorway and the 50 plus members of the party made their way into the large function suite where six large tables were set out to accommodate the group.

Sam managed to sit at a table where Alex was directly across the way and the two were able to have a quick chat while the others were engrossed in their own conversations. “You’re looking good tonight!” Alex said with a smile and Sam replied “Not so shabby yourself! Planning on making any moves later?” Alex chuckled and said “Joe and I were hoping to get together with the loose head and tight head!” Sam laughed and replied “I was thinking inside centre myself!” and they clinked glasses “I’ll drink to that!”

Before the food was served the Head Coach stood up and said “I just want to congratulate you on a hugely successful first half to the season. 2023 has been a good year for us and I hope you can continue to bring the same level of concentration and commitment to 2024. Lets make a resolution have some silverwear to show off at our end of season dinner in April, OK?”

There was a roar of approval from the room with much banging on fists on the tables and feet stomping on the floor. The coach called for a toast to 2024 and everyone got to their feet and drank from their glass just as the waiters began to bring through the starters and soon everyone was focussed on eating and refreshing their glasses from the bar.

As Sam was taking a bite of the prawn in smoked salmon starter one of the cheer leading team who was sitting at the same table looked across and smiled shyly. Sam returned the smile with a little wink, The two had talked a few times after matches but were hardly friends. Both squads trained separately and only ever saw each other on match days when the focus was squarely on the 80 minutes on the pitch. The cheerleader was blonde, around 18 or 19 and very pretty looking – not in the dumb blonde way though, more like someone who was confident who she was and what she knew. She looked as if cheerleading was just her exercise regime and she had a far more interesting life away from the pom poms and rah rah skirt. Sam hoped there would be an opportunity later to discus that with her.

Sam chose the fish option while others had a steak as their main course. Drinking white wine instead of red was another tactic adopted to try to ensure the evening was not spoiled by having to go to bed early feeling bloated and drunk. The season was not over yet – there were still some matches to be played in January and being a sportsman meant keeping your body fuelled but fit, especially where your position meant you needed speed as well as guile and flexibility.

The desert was served and while some at the table attacked the apple crumble with custard Sam enjoyed the fresh fruit salad with cream.. Coffee followed and the table began to relax further and the noise levels rose and tray-loads of beer arrived and the song singing began. Alex caught Sam’s eye and mouthed the word “Loo!” and they both headed off

“Oh man, that cheer leader is into you!” Alex said to Sam when they were in the peace and quiet of the toilets. “You think so?” Sam replied. I’ve spoken to her a little over the past few months and she seems nice, right enough” Alex nodded as she said “She has been watching you all night. Kiddo! I’d say she is smitten!” Sam laughed. “Maybe her new year resolution was to bed a player from the first fifteen!” Alex looked at Sam and said “Well? Best not disappoint the girl!” and the pair laughed as they headed back into the function suite.

Alex watched as Sam walked over to the cheerleader and whispered something in her ear and she nodded and the pair slipped out of the room and headed into the adjacent bar. Keeping an eye on them, a smile crossed Alex’s face as the pair walked out of the bar 10 minutes later hand in hand.

Up in Sam’s bedroom the pair were transferring lipstick. “Its Connie, isn’t it?” Sam said as they paused for breath and the cheerleader nodded. “You have no idea how hard it has been on the sidelines – watching you in action on the pitch and seeing how totally cool you are in the midst of all those big sweaty guys, making all those clever moves and telling passes that take the team up the park! I get so nervous watching you in action, scared you are going to get crushed by the defensive team!” Sam kissed her and whispered “That’s sweet of you, but I can take care of myself! I work out in the gym and am stronger than I look! Anyway, the secret is to avoid the hits and that where quick feet come into play!”

Connie began unbuttoning Sam’s shirt and Sam began to unzip Connie’s dress. “You know, the cheer team really make a difference to us” Sam said. “The crowd cheer us on of course but sometimes their frustration comes over and can make some of the players distracted. Your constant support and positivity really rubs off on the team and reminds use that we can always turn things around.”

Sam saw Connie’s pert little breasts and smiled. She had the body of a young pubescent girl! Years of dancing and exercise can affect breast size of course as many female sporting icons had shown over the years. It worked for runners in particular and Sam thought the last thing a cheerleader wanted were over active puppies on her chest bouncing around during a routine. As her dress fell to the floor, Sam also noticed the matching black panties and decided not to be the person to remove them just yet.

Connie pulled Sam’s shirt open and pulled it down so that the arms fell out of the sleeves. She was slightly confused by Sam wearing a sports bra. She knew that many sportsmen wore them for support during matches and events but this was a celebration dinner and it seemed unnecessary but she didn’t waste time on that. Instead she disconnected the belt on Sam’s trousers and pulled them down to the floor.

Just then, Sam lifted Connie’s face up and resumed kissing. While they did they disconnected each other’s bra. Connie pushed Sam towards the bed and they fell together onto the soft quilted cover, mouths locked together, tongues investigating each other’s while hands stroked each other admiring the smooth hairless surfaces of neck, arms, and chest.

Connie started moving her kisses down Sam’s body. The chin, the chest, the stomach were all smooched as she worked her way down and then she gently pulled back Sam’s panties. She paused for a second and smiled before leaning down and kissing Sam’s lips.

Samantha Mooney had had a few encounters during her school days which made her believe she was bi-sexual although she had felt herself more male oriented in her early relationships. That was why she had chosen to play rugby over netball. Right now though she was feeling very aroused as a tongue probed her inner sanctum and she arched her back as its tip began to toy with her clitoris. She could feel herself reaching orgasm but wanted to draw it out longer so she took hold of the face of her tormentor and kissed her passionately.

“When did you know?” she asked breathlessly and Connie smiled. “Properly? About 30 seconds ago! But there were rumours around the cheer leading squad that you would only shower with a couple of others in the rugby team and you weren’t as hairy as the other Rugby players!”

Sam giggled. “I’ve got a double ended dildo in my case if you want . . “ and Connie smiled and shook her head. “I’ve got a better idea” she said and pulled down her panty gaff and released a very aroused phallus. Sam’s eyes went wide like saucers as Connie giggled. “Yes, I can still get this little friend to attention, my hormone treatments haven’t killed him off just yet!” She slid a condom into place as Sam watched with mounting excitement. “You see, Conrad Jackson always wanted to dance so I did ballet for years until I was able to convince my parents they had a daughter and not a son!”
She giggled as she saw Sam’s face slowly breaking into a smile. “Looks like we’ve both been hiding our true selves!” They kissed. “Lets play at hiding something else, shall we?” Connie said as she gently placed herself at the Sam’s entrance and gently pushed herself in, causing Sam to gasp with pleasure and grasp at the bedclothes in ecstasy.
“Don’t you just love it when you’re part of a gender neutral sports club?” Connie asked playfully.

Sam’s answer in the positive, repeated over and over in a loud shout could be heard down the hall.

Three doors down Alexandra McCall was on her bed across the room from Josephine Jones on her’s. Both were beneath two of their team mates, both of whom were props in the front row of the scrum. They could hear the sound coming from Sam’s room and smiled. “Sounds like someone has started without us!” Alex said and Joe said in mock frustration “and I thought this was a team sport!” Their large partners looked confused at the conversation their dates were having, prompting Alex to talk to them in terms they would understand.

“OK, lads, Scrum down!! Crouch – Bind – Set – Engage!!” she called out, to the chuckles of the others in the room. Then in her best impression of famous Rugby referee Nigel Owens added “USE IT!!”

These days, Halloween has been taken over by the horror industry but when I was young you went out ‘guising’ which meant being in disguise. One year I was a footballer in my favourite team’s strip. Another year, I was a Mexican wearing a poncho my mum had picked up on holiday with a sombrero and a fake moustache made from some soot from the chimney.

This year was going to be different. This year I wanted to be a famous star of the silver screen. I had been watching old films on the television and I had chosen my target from probably the most famous child star in history. So when my parents asked me what I wanted to be when I went ‘guising” I said eagerly “Mummy, I want to be Shirley Temple! You know? Like in the film Bright Eyes where she sang “Good Ship Lollipop.” That could be my party piece.” Yes, back then you didn’t just thrust out your bag and demand sweets and treats – you had to perform to earn your apple or peanuts. Kids would tell a joke – usually lame – or sing a song or if they had another talent, it was put on display to entertain the neighbour you visited. You had to work for your rewards!

Mum and Dad looked at each other and said “Em, sweetheart, you know Shirley Temple was a little girl and barely 6 years old when she made that film! AND she was pretending to be even younger?” I rolled my eyes and said “Yea, I know, but Halloween’s all about make believe, isn’t it? It’s all pretend, right? I could wear that really cute sailor dress Sarah wears and you could curl my hair and I could wear the little red shoes Nana bought Sarah that were too big for her, remember because I fit those. . .”

I stopped in my tracks. I had just revealed that I had worn my little sister’s babyish shoes and dress. She was just over 4 years younger than me but I was small for my age and always being mistaken for being younger than I was. I was nearly 8 and Sarah wouldn’t be 4 until 2 weeks after my birthday but she was bigger than other little girls at her nursery and our grandparents always struggled to buy the correct sizes when they got us presents to wear. I had a cupboard full of outfits I would grow into when I was too old to look that childish!

Mum and Dad exchanged another set of frowns and I saw my dad exhale before he spoke to me, “Sam, we’re not stopping you from going out in public as Shirley Temple. We just didn’t expect you to choose a little girl who is half your age!” He looked across to my mother and said “But it that’s who you want to be this year, I am sure we can have Mummy go around with Shirley. Just don’t expect her to sing along with you though because she can barely hold a note!” Mum laughed and shook her head and I gave the biggest smile and ran over and hugged my dad. “Thank you Daddy! I’m going to be the best little girl ever!”

The next two weeks were the happiest I had felt for a very long time. Mum had made me wear my sister’s dress to check that it fitted and was shocked a little to find that it did, even if it was a little short on me. She smiled when I put on the red Mary Jane sandals which set off the red scarf motif on the blue sailors dress and she pulled me into a hug. “Aw, Sam, sweetie, you make the sweetest little girl like that!” she cooed and I signed. “Mummy! Its just for Halloween!” I moaned while inside I squealed with excitement at the reflection of a little girl I saw in the mirror.

In my bedroom after I had done my homework I would practice singing ‘Good Ship Lollypop’ trying to mimic the hand gestures Shirley used in the film from the You Tube video online. I also taught myself the ‘Animal Crackers’ song she sang the year after ‘Good Ship Lollypop’ in the film Curly Top when she was 7 but pretended to be half that age. I wanted to have an alternative song ready just in case I grew tired of singing ‘Lollypop’ all night. There were less hand gestures to learn with this song too but there was a section where she skipped while singing so where I was sure I could not be seen I learned how to skip like a little girl.

At school I had to be careful not to slip into my ‘alter ego’ at any time, The bullies in my class would have had a field day if I had spoken with a lisp, or been seen skipping. “Hey, Sam? What are you doing for Halloween?” my best friend Taylor asked me one day. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll bother this year” I lied. “I may take Sarah around though just so she can enjoy herself.” Taylor frowned and said “But it’s the easy way to get free sweets and your mum and dad encourage it! That’s too good to miss!” I laughed and said “yea, well, I guess as long as you are in disguise its not so embarrassing! Got plans yourself?” Taylor smiled broadly. “Fred Flintstone! Mum’s cutting up one of her dresses for me to wear!” I chuckled and said “Get your Dad to take a picture – I need to see THAT look!”

My dad was busy making outfits for the rest of the family. It was decided that Sarah would go out separate from me in order that we would both generate more sweets. “Share that with your sister” was something I had heard last year at too many houses and it also reduced the impact of your outfit when your cute sibling was stood alongside. Last year, Sarah got all the attention when we went out ‘guising’ and I guess that was probably playing around my head when I decided I who I wanted to be this year. Also, because of her age, Sarah needed to be home earlier for bed than I did so this way she could hit the neighbours before me and I would have the stage to myself for my performances.

Halloween was a Sunday this year so we had plenty time to get ready. Mum had me remove my clothes and then pulled out a large pink padded item that shocked me. “Can’t I just wear my own underwear?” I moaned and she giggled and said “Sweetie, what makes you look more like a little girl than a hint of a nappy below your dress? When you bend over dance a little, the flash of pink nappy will just look so cute!” I stared at one of my little sister’s night time bed saver nappies and couldn’t help but give a little smile. “Well, I guess it would look cute. . .” and mum nodded and said “Plus you don’t need to use anyone else’s toilet when you are out!” “oowww! Mum!!!” I moaned and she replied “Little girls dribble, sometimes!” and I chuckled and replied “Should have gone in my football kit then!”

After I had put on my dress Mum washed my hair and then used lots of rollers and spray to create the little ringlets that made me look remarkably like Shirley Temple and a pair of white ankle socks with the red shoes finished off the outfit perfectly. “We done?” I asked and she shook her head. “Close your mouth and stay still” she added and pulled out a red lipstick. “I’ll just give you little love heart lips, darling. Don’t lick them or rub them with your hand, its just to make you look cuter. What do you think?” and she turned me to face the mirror.

I am not sure if this was the moment when I first christened the nappy but I DID get a shock when I saw myself reflected before me. I was a sweet little pre-school girl, the very image of Shirley Temple.

While mum got Sarah dressed up in her outfit – she was a ballerina this year, wearing an outfit she had worn at her dance class concert a few weeks before – I stood in my bedroom practicing my songs, singing quietly in my lisping impersonation of my character and doing all of the cutesy hand gestures and expressions that she used in her films. I skipped a little – not a lot of room in my bedroom for more than a short hop really – and began to feel myself slipping into character,

At one point I heard Dad call out “Is Sarah all ready to go now too?” and Mum shout back “Yea, ready to go full that bucket with lots of sweets?” Sarah’s voice shouted back “Yea!!!!!” followed by an excited giggle. “OK, have a great night you two – see you later!” Mum replied. Dad answered “You too!” and I heard the front door closing. I guessed I still had 15 minutes before I trailed in my sister’s path so I went back to rehearsals again and did ‘Animal Crackers’. By the time I finished, I barely noticed that I was wearing a nappy let alone a sailor dress and little red shoes.

My bedroom door opened. “OK, Shirley, are you ready to go ‘guising’ with Daddy?” I giggled and held out my hand. “Sure thing, Daddy, that would be just swell!” I said in my best impersonation. Daddy was wearing a grey suit and tie with an airline badge on the lapel and hair slicked back just like Shirley’s daddy in the film. We walked out of the house together, with me clutching an old picnic basket I wanted to use to hold my takings. I felt so happy I began skipping as we set off to our neighbour’s houses.

Daddy would ring the bell and then when the door opened I would pipe up “Well, good evening Mr and Mrs Benson!” or whoever we were visiting and then with my cutest smile I asked “Can I sing you a little song and maybe get some cookies? My name is Shirley and this is my Daddy. He’s a airline pilot and flies the very latest DC3s!” That would get us in the door and then once my audience were ready I would launch into Good Ship Lollypop. My little collection basket would benefit with treats and I would be told “Aren’t you just the sweetest little Shirley Temple ever! Thank you so much for coming by!” and I would courtesy – something else I had taught myself – and say “Thank you so much for those swell treats! Have a lovely evening, won’t you?” and we would exit to our next neighbour.

In between houses I would talk to Daddy as Shirley – partly because I wanted to keep in the mindset so that I was convincing at our next stop, but mainly because I was enjoying being a little girl so much. The more homes we visited, the more excited I became and after five houses I needed Daddy to carry the basket as it was getting so heavy. Also, I found my nappy felt a little heavily and realised that little girls didn’t just dribble overnight.

Eventually we had visited all but one house. I had sung Lollypop at them all and – after being requested – had added Animal Crackers at 8 of the 12 we had visited. I was a little ahead of Daddy and skipping happily down the pavement towards our house when I heard a voice saying “Shirley? We still have one more house to visit!! Come on sweetheart, we still have Mr Myers to visit!”

My sense of happiness fell from me like a cloak of lead. Mr Myers was a strange old man who lived alone and rarely opened his blinds. His house was always dark and dangerous looking – the windows shuttered, the blinds down and no sign of life. You never saw Mr Myers in the garden on going shopping, his rubbish bins seemed to appear automatically and there was never a light visible from his house at night.

Except tonight.

Tonight, the doorway was lit with a smiling pumpkin on the porch. It was as though Halloween was somehow a special night for old Mr Myers. Was he trying to lure people to his home for some ghastly evil fate to befall them? At school, kids in my class talked of pet animals disappearing in his garden and some said he used them as sacrificial offerings to the forces of evil that he worshiped and thee was even a story that a newspaper delivery boy had been seen entering the house but was never seen again.

I felt myself wetting the nappy that was a part of my costume for the night.

Daddy gripped me by the hand. “Come on Shirley. Let’s sing one last time for Mr Myers. I’m sure he’d appreciate seeing you and give you lots of treats! “ I tried to pull back. I tried to speak, but my mouth felt dry and I had lost any strength to fight back. I was being pulled ever closer to my fate and I looked around me for some other ‘guisers’ I could call to for help but the street was empty and there was nothing I could hear other than my heart beating loud in my ears.

Daddy pressed the doorbell and smiled at me as we waited. For a moment I wondered if the house might be empty and we could be spared our fate but before my hopes could take root I heard a key turn in the lock and the door slowly opening. I pulled at Daddy’s hand and screamed and felt my nappy once more saving me from ruined underwear just before a smiling face appeared in the doorway. “Well, who have we here?” said a small grey haired man wearing a Dave Brubeck t-shirt and a pair of denims. Daddy waited for me to give my regular introduction but I was still coming to terms with the mess in my pants so he said “The Wilsons from number 4, but for one night only Shirley Temple and her Daddy!”

Mr Myers smiled broadly. “Well, do come in! Its always nice to have ‘guisers’ at Halloween.” He saw me holding back and waved to me “Come on Shirley! I should have a lollypop for you – or do you prefer animal crackers?” and he chuckled as if he had just made the funniest joke ever. Daddy pulled me and said “Come on, Shirley, lets sing for Mr Myers before we go home!” and with no small amount of trepidation I allowed myself to be dragged into the house.

Mr Myers lived alone and it showed. The living room was a little untidy and there was an air of staleness and neglect about the place. However, the man himself looked – normal. What minister of the devil would be a jazz fan and wear a pair of crocs as slippers? I couldn’t see any pentagons on the walls, no goat heads on display nor any paganism tomes on his bookshelf. I tried to tell myself to relax. Perhaps this was just a single pensioner living out his days alone and I was going to make his night a little more special by singing to him. What was so wrong with that?

“Gee whiz, Mr Myers, it sure is swell of you to let us come visit!” I said with a little courtesy and he nodded and said “My pleasure, Shirley, and I am looking forward to hearing you sing!” I giggled and nodded to Daddy who sat down while I stood in the middle of the room and started.
“I’ve thrown away my toys, even my drum and train!
I want to make some noise with real live aeroplanes.
Some day I’m going to fly! I’ll be a pilot too
And when I do, how would you like to be my crew?”

He smiled and nodded as I went into the first chorus of The Good Ship Lollipop and I felt my fear leave me. I was in my safe place now, singing my song and dancing in my little sailor dress. Mr Myers looked enchanted by me and Daddy smiled happily at me and nodded his approval. When I finished singing Mr Myers clapped and congratulated me and asked if I had any other songs I could sing and I bounced up and down excitedly and said “Golly gee, I sure do, Mr Myers” and with a giggle I pulled my dress straight and sang
“Animal crackers in my soup
Monkeys and rabbits loop the loop
Golly gee but I have fun
Swallowing animals one by one ! . . . . “

I finished the song off, giggling happily and instead of cowering from the old man I ran over to Mr Myers and jumped into his lap and gave him a cuddle. He smiled broadly and said “Shirley that was just wonderful, you’re such a clever little girl, aren’t you?” I chuckled and nodded. “You’ve made an old man very happy this evening. I’ve had a lovely night welcoming little girls and boys into my house. Your sister and mummy were in to see me earlier, you know” he said with a smile. I glanced across at Daddy and frowned and I saw his face drop too.

Mr Myers chuckled. “People think I am all sorts of evil, but I’m not. They call me an evil wizard you know but that’s not true. I’m a white wizard. I only cast spells for good, not evil.” He looked across at Daddy and said “I give people what they want in life, you see. What their hearts tell them but what they are too scared to tell the world.”

Sitting on Mr Myers lap I felt . . .different. I felt more childish than my 8 years – almost as if I was the little pre-schooler I had been pretending to be all night. I nervously grasped on the edges of my little dress as Mr Myers smiled at me and said “Your Daddy looks handsome in his suit, doesn’t he?” I frowned as I looked at him and said “That’s just my mummy pretending to be Shirley’s daddy!” I replied because I knew her face well, even without make up and wearing male clothing,

Mr Myers chuckled and shook his head. “When your sister was in earlier, your new mummy said that THIS was the man of the house right here!” I felt confused and looked at my parent sat beside me. She smiled and said “Its true, Sam. I guess I have always been the masculine one in our house. I have felt like a male inside a female body since I was in kindergarten. I married your father because he was a weak, slightly effeminate boy who I could dominate.” Then she saw my expression on my face and grabbed my hand as she added “Oh we love each other sweetheart, and we love Sarah and you with all our hearts! Its just we weren’t the normal mummy and daddy couple other children have!”

My Myers smiled. “Until now! You see, I have made a few small adjustments to you both” he added . Mummy placed a hand on her chest. “Oh my God!” she whispered. “Oh my God, they’ve gone!” and her hand went down between her legs and her eyes widened further. “And I’ve now got a . . . “ “YES!” Mr Myers said to interrupt. “Thought I should spare the infant here the full medical terminology! When you get home you will find your wife has all the attributes you felt so uncomfortable with, and which she craved. I think she will be happy to see you this evening once you have the little ones in bed!”

I saw Mummy’s face wearing an expression of surprise and delight. “But my voice . . .” she said and Mr Myers finished his sentence. “Will reflect your new gender identity by the morning at which time your bodies will have changed fully and you will have no memory of a previous life in the other role. Your worlds will reflect the genders you always knew yourselves to be.” Mummy nodded with a smile on her face then asked “But what of the children?”

Mr Myers laughed. “Sarah was perfectly happy as she was”. Then he bounced me on his knee and continued “Little Shirley here has had her wishes granted too.” Mummy reached for me and padded the front of my nappy anxiously and Mr Myers chuckled and said “Don’t worry, she is still a little girl like she always was – she’s just a little 3 year old now, like her twin sister”

I looked up at Mr Myers and chuckled. “Fank you!” I said as I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Aw you are welcome sweetheart” he said, handing me over to Mummy. She bounced me on her arm and said “I should have known when you kept borrowing Sarah’s stuffed toys and I caught you with one of her pacifiers!” I chuckled and thrust a thumb in my mouth, the evening’s adrenalin beginning to wear off and be replaced by tiredness.

“How can we thank you?” Mummy said. “You have made us the perfect family. We will always be grateful!” Mr Myers smiled. “Tomorrow morning you will think me as just a crazy old man and hear rumours that I am evil! It’s OK, I can live a quiet life and help those in need each Halloween when people come to see me!”

Mummy looked at Mr Myers. “You are a good man. How can we replay you?”

He shook his head. “It’s Halloween. I performed a little trick and gave your family a treat. It’s what tonight is all about!”

Mummy leaned over and kissed Mr Myers on the cheek and whispered “You don’t know what this means to me!” Then she sighed as she held me on her hip. “OK Princess, lets get you home for a nappy change and night nights in the cot with your sister. Say night night to Mr Myers!” I rubbed my eyes with my fists as I yawned and said “nigh nigh Mista Myer. Fank you for my new mummy and daddy!”

“You’re welcome, Samantha!” Mr Myers chuckled and waved as we walked out the door. “Happy Halloween!”

Robert looked at the beautiful young girl in the mirror. She was wearing a sleek red silk dress with Asian emblems on it, held on her slender form by spaghetti straps. Her modest breasts barely registered to the casual eye but the vivid red lipstick enhanced her mouth and the smoky eye makeup she had expertly applied gave her face a striking beauty and her long black hair that descended over her shoulders framed her beautifully, The dress ended mid thigh and then her slim legs showed down to the bright red 4 inch heeled shoes she balanced casually on. She knew that most Asian girls wouldn’t wear such a heel but she wasn’t Asian, despite the dress, and she knew that when she walked in the heels she felt elegant and attractive and interesting – a creature that would turn heads and attract every available male that saw her.

Robert’s gaze turned to the alarm clock at his bedside. He had work in the morning and would need to rise early to avoid being late. His superior was a real ball-breaker and she seemed to be targeting him – picking on him for any minor misdemeanour and humiliating him in front of his fellow workers, As the only male in the Administration Department he wondered if his only fault was being a man and at that thought he had to give a wry smile because in many ways he felt there may be some common ground there.

Robert sighed to the girl in the mirror. “Thank you for another lovely evening, but I need to call a halt to things. Maybe I could see you again tomorrow – I’ll be free all weekend and we could spend the whole two days any way you wanted?” He blew her a kiss which she returned in a perfect synchronised response and gave a little smile. “I’d really enjoy that” she said in her soft voice.

Robert sighed once more and stepped away so he could no longer see her reflection. Sitting on his bed he took off his high heels and then pulled down the zip of the dress that was between his shoulders, taking care to remove the outfit without it touching his face. He hung it up on a hanger to keep it crease free and then walked into the bathroom to wash off the make up, remove the nail varnish on his hands and then ease off the breast forms he had applied earlier that evening. Glancing at his reflection he realised he had missed one more item and he removed the wig he had been wearing and took it through and placed it on the head form that would reduce the risk of tangles.

The girl in the mirror was no more. Now as Robert looked in the bathroom mirror he saw the 30 year old virgin he despised and was embarrassed by. Robert Mitchell. Only child of Arthur and Millicent Mitchell, both deceased. His father was, by all reports, a jovial and well regarded man who had died when struck by a drunk driver when his son was only 6 years old. The impact of that loss was felt deeply by Robert’s mother who had lost her one true love and withdrew back into herself, shunning social contact. Robert’s father had worked in Insurance and had a life insurance policy that paid out sufficient funds to keep bread on the table after his death but young Robert was soon doing paper deliveries and other odd jobs to supplement this income and was doing chores sweeping garages and stores while his schoolmates were out playing or meeting in social groups.

Robert was a bit of a loner, “the man of the house” from far too young an age and therefore subservient to his mother who dominated who he was and what he did. It was she who eventually took him to the doctors when his voice hadn’t broken and his facial hair hadn’t emerged like all the other boys his age and the shame of being 15 and having your mother report you were lacking testosterone production at that age was just another embarrassment that Robert had to bear. After several tests the Doctors concluded that young Robert’s body was not capable of producing the male hormone without external stimulus and so he was prescribed tablets to take each day.

It was humiliating for Robert to have to swallow a pill each morning and evening to tell his body he was male and should have muscles, hair and a penis that would react to the sight of a pretty young girl. It made him feel less masculine than all the others in school and although his voice did drop in pitch a little, his limbs and face were still largely hair free and his appendage was only fit for passing urine. Not that he felt that really mattered. Robert had no attention from the girls in school and actually felt no sexual attraction whatsoever at the low hormonal levels he was at. When after 9 months of use, the tablets had achieved next to no noticeable improvement in his appearance, Robert gradually stopped taking them, accepting that he was never going to be the sports jock or hunk that the girls went for.

On leaving school Robert took the first job he could find. He now needed to be the breadwinner for his mother and himself and he needed a reliable regular income to support the household. Therefore he took an administrative post within the local government organisation. His upbringing had ensured he was organised and methodical which were ideal values in local government and his mother had drummed in the importance of values and responsibility, having seen the havoc one drunken driver could do to a family.

Robert’s work was mundane and unimaginative but he knew it was a means to an end. It was a way to heat the house and keep its occupants fed and clothed and so just as he had done with the pocket money chores of his youth, he got his head down and worked to his best abilities. His department was composed of 8 females of varying ages so when there was a social event he never joined them, knowing their conversation would be of no interest to him nor his to them. At 5ft 6 inches with size 6 feet and a slim 140lbs in weight he was no target for female attention, so the workplace was just where he spent five days a week and had no other impact on his life.

At home he took his share of the chores although his slender frame meant he wasn’t much use on the heavy tasks around the home or garden. His mother was increasingly less able to take on those tasks either as her mental state deteriorated and she fell into a depression that saw her retiring to her bedroom earlier and earlier each year.

Millicent had been a fashionable young lady when she married Robert’s father and they had enjoyed 15 years of happy marriage travelling together and enjoying each other’s company before they decided to start a family when Millicent was in her mid 30s. Robert’s had been a difficult birth and that made the decision simple – he would be an only child. When tragedy struck and Arthur was taken from her, Millicent boxed up all of the bright, party clothes she had enjoyed wearing and placed them in the loft, unable to throw away their link with the life she shared with her beloved husband but at the same time knowing she would never wear them again as they evoked memories that only brought pain to her mind. The drunk driver had effectively taken her life along with her husbands,

It was when Robert had just turned 30 and his mother 66 that Millicent Mitchell was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. She had found a lump many months before and had done nothing about it, adding it to the list of woes she accepted as being her fate and not telling anyone about until her general health had been affected and Robert had found her crying in pain from a swollen and discoloured breast, He had called a doctor who had arranged for an immediate double mastectomy as traces of the cancer were in both sides. Then the spread was detected and further treatments began. Robert bought his mother prosthetic breasts to try to raise her spirits but the spread of the disease was accelerating and nothing could be done to save her.

The loss of his mother was a great sadness for Robert, although he knew they had never been particularly close due to his mother’s depression and his own diminished sense of worth. He went on cleaning the house and doing the chores as before, only now there was only one mouth to feed. Cleaning out his mother’s bedroom reminded him that there were boxes of her clothes in the loft and he went and brought them back down so that he could prepare the lot for disposal. Perhaps the charity shops would find some of her clothes suitable to sell.

He burst open the first of the boxes and found party frocks that looked as though they had been worn only once. They were still vivid in colour and still had a slight whiff of perfume about them despite being bagged and boxed 24 years before. One dress in particular caught his eye, It looked as if it were made of silk – a simple yet beautiful red oriental dress. He held it in his hands and gasped as it slid through his fingers as though made of liquid. What would something this soft feel like against your skin if you wore it, he asked himself. He felt he needed to find out. He closed the curtains in the room and began to undress.

He knew his mother was relatively close to his own height but he wondered if he was wasting his time contemplating trying it on. One glance at the outfit though made his mind up. He had never seen anything so pretty and soft to the touch and he knew he needed to feel it on his body. Down to his underpants, he reached out and slowly lowered the zip on the back of the dress. Even touching this little area of it sent a tingle down Robert’s spine. His mouth felt dry and beads of sweat were appearing on his brow. He was getting excited by this little red dress, although his appendage remained as flaccid as always.

Robert took a deep breath and slid his head and arms into the dress and pulled it down over his shoulders. He gasped as he felt it ripple down his torso like a waterfall. The dress seemed weightless with barely a pull on the spaghetti straps and although snug to his body, it felt extremely comfortable and didn’t seem to snag anywhere. He managed to get a hand over his shoulder to pull up the back zip and secure the dress in place.

He took a few moments to simply enjoy the feeling of the dress before moving over to the wall mirror in the room. He threw his hand over his mouth when he saw his reflection. The dress looked absolutely gorgeous on him. It was quite short – reaching above the knee – but not in a slutty way. This was an elegant dress that would be set off by a beautiful clutch handbag and a pair of red shoes. As soon as he thought that he turned to the box. Perhaps she has stowed just such accessories in the box!

20 minutes of emptying the boxes later, Robert had found shoes and a handbag that were clearly to be worn with this dress. His mother and him had shared slippers around the house on occasions so he knew his shoe size was much like hers. Of course his foot was slightly broader but all the same, he managed to squeeze them into the red heels. He stood up and chuckled as he wobbled uncertainly on the tall heel before clutching the handbag and stepping once more in front of the mirror. He bit his lip. He looked incredible!

Then he amended that thought. He looked incredible below the neck. Clearly the face and hair was that of a man, and come to think of it, the hands were too. Perhaps a little make up would change that, he thought and turned to where his mother had her make up bag and opened it up to reveal a confusing array of pallets and cylinders, applicators and brushes, potions and lotions that he had no idea how to use and where. He went for the basics and applied some dark red lipstick. Then remembering some TV show where a Drag Queen had talked about disguising cheek bones he added some colour to his cheeks and blended it in to try and disguise his facial structure, before adding a little mascara to his eyelashes and some colour on the brows to raise them a touch and make them look a little thinner.

At every adjustment, Robert had seen his face transform and he began to see that, with practice, he would make himself look more feminine so that he could show off the dress more convincingly. Finding some nail varnish, he slowly applied it to his rounded nails. They were the nails of a working man and he knew they would look far better shaped and extended but at least with the deep pink varnish on, his fingers were already looking more dainty.

Robert then sucked in a deep breath. His mother had a wig. She had been given it by the health board when her own fell out during a bout of chemotherapy but she had refused to wear it, choosing instead to wear a summer hat. Robert found it in its original box at the back of his mother’s wardrobe and was soon placing it on his head and adjusting it so that it looked reasonably realistic. The style was for the older lady and there were flecks of grey in a brunette bob which Robert knew didn’t really go with his face or the dress but even at that, the addition to his make up meant he now no longer saw Robert Mitchell in a dress but a rather attractive female who had the broadest smile on her face and an expression that indicated she had finally found something to like about herself.

Robert caught sight of the clock in the room. It was 1am. He had somehow spent the past 4 hours making himself look like a woman and he needed to stop and get to bed. One thing was for certain though, he would not be taking any boxes to the charity shop, or indeed anything from his mother’s bedroom, until he had sorted them out and decided which outfits he would like to keep because he could see himself spending more time displaying as an attractive young woman rather than the miserable male he had been.

It was 2.30pm before he had carefully removed his mother’s dress and hung it in her closet, along with some others from the boxes, then washed off the make up he had applied and removed the varnish that had spent barely an hour on his nails. It was deflating to see his former self reflecting in the bathroom mirror but at the same time he was excited by the knowledge that this was merely a version of himself and he could transform into something prettier, more desirable and much happier. He went to his bed feeling more positive than he could ever remember feeling.

Over the next two evenings Robert set about categorising his mother’s clothes. Underwear went mainly to the bin but there were some still packed and unworn that he kept, including a couple of bras that were purchased before the mastectomy. The prosthetic breasts were still in their box – a subtle B cup size since his mother was never the busty type – and there were unworn stockings and camisoles too.

Robert had gone on-line and ordered a long black wig which he felt would be more “Asian” in appearance and match the dress better. He marvelled at the websites that offered clothing in all shapes, sizes and colours and realised that he had access to whatever he wanted so long as he could afford it. The make up and perfume options were limitless and daunting but he found an on-line tutorial for transgender male to female make up suggestions and made notes on what tricks would help him look more feminine. All the time he realised that he was feeling an affiliation with the other sex far more than he had done so as a male. He saw that some websites would sell him oestrogen tablets so that he could boost that hormone level within him since his body wasn’t creating testosterone but decided he might discuss the matter with his doctor first. He couldn’t wait for the coming weekend when he could spend time en-femme and embrace his new projection of himself.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Robert rose early that first Saturday morning and breakfasted while planning out his day. He was going to get dressed and made up and if he felt confident enough, go out and take a bus into town and shop for a pair of denims to wear. He wanted some casual feminine clothes that his mother clearly lacked and was confident the body hugging cut of a female jean would still fit him. A nice floral trim would be pretty, and perhaps some joggers wouldn’t go amiss. He would go visit the very charity stores he would have donated to and see if they had some outfits that would suit him. He knew from overhearing the girls at work that these stores were an excellent way to get fashion for a bargain price.

He sat at the vanity in his mother’s old bedroom which he now considered his changing room and began his transformation. He did his make up first because he knew that this was the most important element and would take the longest time. Once he had that element complete, putting on the clothes was a2 minute job. Slowly and carefully he put on foundation and blusher, having learned from the internet how to hide facial hair – although he knew he really had minimal issues in that regard anyway. Then he lined the lips before applying lipstick to fill and a glaze to make it permanent and make it shine. Instantly his mouth became fuller and more sensuous in appearance and he smiled at his reflection.

He worked on his eyes, thankful that he had fair hair on his brows that could be easily disguised with a line of dark make up drawn across the top. His eyes became more prominent, appearing larger and giving his face a far softer appearance. He had spent some time the evening before shaping his nails with an emery board and had applied varnish last night so this morning he simply refreshed the nails that looked like they needed it. His feet looked fine with their own nails varnished now and he paused for a few moments while the nails dried, reminding himself of what remained to be done.

With his nails dry Robert took hold of the prosthetic breasts and the adhesive he needed to use to attach them to his chest. He was excited by the prospect of having breasts for the weekend and was particularly careful to have them correctly aligned. He then slipped on a bra and gasped as his prosthetics balanced in the cups and immediately looked like a part of him. He giggled slightly as the sight of his reflection. This was rapidly becoming someone else and that made Robert feel very happy.

From the closet, he pulled out the beautiful red silk dress and slid it on, noticing immediately how it hung over his new breasts. He shimmied a little as he pulled the dress over his hips and made sure it fitted correctly before pulling the zip on to secure it in place. Slipping his feet into the red shoes felt wonderful and left him with just one final enhancement – his new black wig which he had bought with next day delivery to ensure he had it for the weekend. He had brushed it when he first saw it and left it on the foam head that he bought with it and thought it looked fabulous. Carefully he placed it on his head and pulled it into place. There was a little fringe at the front and then long tresses that fell down below his shoulders which he brushed gently. As he did so he marvelled at the new person who now reflected in the mirror. This was a girl – a beautiful girl – whose eyes sparkled and whose smile shone and was a polar opposite of the drab and mundane male she had been before.

Robert got to his feet and walked over to the full length mirror and giggled. “Hi. I’m kind of new around here” he said from his reflection “My name’s Roberta but all my friends know me as Bobbi. I just love this dress, don’t you? Its so sweet and it feels so soft against my skin!” He pouted and held his head at an angle as he added “Um, could we maybe go out together sometime? Maybe take in a movie or a concert somewhere?” He was speaking in a higher pitch in a voice that sounded like the girls in his office when they chatted together, He chuckled at the thought of blending in with them and becoming part of their social group as Bobbi and finally “fitting in.”

Feeling excited at his transformation Robert walked through the house, getting accustomed to balancing on the high heels and shortening his stride in order to create the correct sway that made his walk more feminine. He switched on the radio and began to sing along with a Taylor Swift song, immersing himself in his new persona and wondering why he hadn’t cross dressed like this before. This felt right, this felt like the way he was meant to be. This felt wonderful!

The doorbell ringing came as a major shock. Robert had all the deliveries he was expecting and rarely received visitors at the door. He decided he would ignore this caller and let them go away. When the bell rang a second time he grew nervous so he went to the peep hole to see if it was one of the neighbours or someone from work. He gave a sigh of relief when he saw it was a total stranger - someone who wouldn’t know him and so in a moment of bravery he decided he would simply open the door and send the stranger on his way.

“Morning, can I help you?” he asked as he stood in the doorway gazing at the smart man in a business suit who was standing outside.

“Good morning! I was looking to speak with Robert Mitchell if he is at home?” the man asked.

“I’m afraid he’s not here at the moment. Can I get him to call you?” Robert said as he tried to send the caller on his way.

“Its regarding his late mother’s estate and I wouldn’t normally call on a weekend but it’s something we need to clear up in order to progress matters.” The man suddenly looked embarrassed and said “Sorry, I should have introduced myself, I’m Scott Parker. From Graeme Parker and Son Solicitors.” He thrust out a hand and added “and you are?”

Robert automatically took the hand offered to him but managed to keep his handshake limp and feminine in nature. “I’m . . . I’m Bobbi, Robert’s . . uh . . .cousin. . . .and I’m just visiting at the moment. He.. .um. . . had to go out to some work related thing this morning and I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

Damn! This wasn’t any door to door salesman he could shut the door on and Robert knew he wanted his mothers affairs wrapped up as soon as possible so he would be the registered owner of the home he lived in and would have the contents of his mother’s savings accounts deposited into his own to ease his financial worries for a while.

Scott gave a little smile and said “Bobbi it would really take only a couple of minutes if I could come in and show you what’s needed and perhaps Robert could return the forms when he gets back. I’d really appreciate your help?”

There was something in the man’s smile and demeanour that made Robert pause for a split second. Scott used that to seal the deal. “I really appreciate your help, Bobbi” he said and smiled broadly and before he really thought the answer through he opened the door further and said “Well, I guess if it helps Robert and everything . . “

Scott stepped into the house. “Thanks Bobbi, this won’t take long.”

“Please” Robert said as he indicated a seat for Scott to sit on. He chose the sofa and as he thanked his hostess for the invitation, he opened up a satchel he was carrying containing the paperwork that was the reason for his call.

Robert sat in the armchair next to the sofa, careful to sweep his skirt under his backside and to sit with his legs to the side in order to appear as natural and demure as possible. He was nervous presenting as Bobbi for the first time to another person but at the same time he was excited to see how well he could carry the charade and especially when the visitor was so cute.

He caught himself. Did I just call my visitor cute, he thought and then smiled to himself. I guess he is kind of dishy! He took in the man who was searching inside his satchel. Five foot 10 or 11 probably, probably goes to a gym because he has a well toned body, kind of mousy brown hair that’s a little ruffled but in a nice way and a pair of brown come to bed eyes. . .wait did I just call those come to bed eyes? Focus on his shoes – ok, smart black shoes with not too much polish, grey socks, that’s better, and a nice grey suit with a bed tie on a white shirt . . .”

“Bobbi?”

“Em sorry?”

“I said do you live locally?”

“Em, well not so far. Maybe 10 miles or so away.”

Scott smiled. “You must be pretty close with your cousin then?”

“Oh yea” Robert replied. “We’re kind of the same age and grew up together and whatnot.”

“And both still single!” Scott said with a smile.

Robert’s face registered the shock at the statement and Scott quickly added “Only I notice you’re not wearing any rings. Sorry, I shouldn’t be so personal – I hope you’re not offended?

Robert allowed himself a smile as he replied “Oh no, its OK, I guess I just haven’t met Mr Right just yet. Scott’s eyes looked into Robert’s at that remark and the two looked at each other for a moment in silence before Robert glanced down at his hands which were folded together oh his lap,

“It’s a lovely house” Scott said, to change the subject.

“Thanks” Robert replied before realising his mistake. “I mean, Robert looks after it pretty well, he’s got a good eye for décor, always has!

Scott gave a little smile once more as he pulled out some forms. “Here we are, now it’s this section here that we need Robert to review and sign off.” His finger pointed to the bottom third of the form in front of him but he didn’t move it closer to where Robert could see it and instead he looked across and with his eyes seemed to draw Robert across to the sofa.

Robert was drawn by those eyes – those damned cute hazel brown eyes – and moved over to sit next to his visitor on the sofa. Scott smiled a little and took in the fragrance of the person next to him. Her delicate limbs and pretty face were so beguiling he was kind of glad it wasn’t Robert. Bobbi was far more charming company.

“I need Robert to confirm that his mother had no further savings accounts other than those already submitted and that there are no other shareholdings or pensions. He needs to read this section here and then sign off here and date here” Scott said as he slid a little closer to Robert in order to show the section in question. “Now there’s another form here” he added as he brought out a second document. “In this one we need Robert’s approval to close the existing bank accounts and savings accounts in his mother’s name so he needs to sign and date here and here.” He leaned forward pointing to the relevant section making Robert mirror the move until they were both just inches apart leaning over the piece of paper.

Scott turned and looked at Robert and their eyes met once more. “If you could possibly have Robert sign these for me I’d really appreciate it, Bobbi.” They held that position for a few seconds and Robert smiled as he replied “I’ll ask him as soon as he gets back. I’m sure he’ll drop them in to your office on Monday on his way to work” he said and then berated himself for saying something that a cousin wouldn’t know but when Scott didn’t react he decided he had gotten away with the faux pas.

“I‘m sorry, I forget my manners! Can I get you something to drink? Tea or coffee or something?” Robert asked, wanting to appear at ease with the situation. Scott smiled and said “Coffee would be great – no milk, two sweeteners if you have them?” Robert smiled “Yea, we have them. That’s what I take. Hang on I’ll just fix us a mug.”

Scott took stock of his surroundings. The house was neat and well looked after and retained a woman’s taste in décor despite Robert’s mother having passed several weeks before. He smiled as he saw a TV guide beside the television . His own mother bought that religiously week in week out.

Robert returned with the the mugs of coffee and a plate with a few biscuits to accompany. “Thanks!” said Scott. “ Are you by chance watching Dancing With The Stars this season?” He saw his hostess’s face light up. “Yea I am – did you see last Saturday’s show? Wasn’t Jamie Lynn Spears awesome? I mean I know she’s a celeb and has to have danced before but I thought she was just awesome!” gushed Robert.

Scott smiled. “Have you danced yourself, Bobbi?” Robert shook his head sadly. “What, not even at school dances and stuff?” Robert chuckled. “Well, I kind of got pulled around the floor by some dumb guys with two left feet but that doesn’t count. I kind of wish I had done ballet when I was little but you need your mom to put you down for that when you’re only 4 or 5 and I guess she could see my future didn’t lie in tutu’s and tights!”

Scott laughed. “Yea my folks were the same. Kept putting me down for Little League when I couldn’t hit a bull’s ass with a broom!” The pair laughed together, enjoying each other’s company. The continued making small talk as they finished their coffees. This coming together was rapidly having nothing to do with the official paperwork.

A couple of times Robert had snuck some extra looks at his visitor and was liking what he saw. He was a confident, attractive, professional young man that he could talk to easily and he found that he shared a similar taste in music – they had discussed the forthcoming music festival in town which featured acts Robert was also a great fan of.

“You know, Green Day isn’t usually the taste for young girls like you!” Scott had said and Robert had appeared mildly insulted at the comment. “My dad had a copy of American Idiot he wouldn’t stop playing and I guess it became the sound of my childhood and I kind of stuck with the band after that!” Scott smiled and nodded. “Favourite track?” Robert had smiled and said “I kind of like Whatsername and I know it’s the last track on the album and stuff but it kind of wraps up everything before it and leaves you wanting more and everything?”

Scott smiled. “Yea, I get you. I must have all their albums on CD somewhere” and Robert smiled and said “Oh, I’ve got them on vinyl in my room and started to point down the hallway. He immediately realised his mistake and added “back home” but was sure Scott had noticed.

Robert quickly decided he needed to end things before he made any further blunders, and saw that his guest had finished his coffee.. “Is that everything Mr Parker?” he asked.

“Call me Scott, please! Mr Parker is my father!” Scott said with a smile that made Robert feel strangely wonderful in a way he had never done before. “Yes, thanks Bobbi, you’ve been a great help” Scott said getting to his feet.

“It’s been nice meeting you, Scott” Robert said as he walked him to the door. Scott turned and faced him and replied “and you, Bobbi. You’ve been a great help this morning and I hope to see you again perhaps under less sad circumstances.”

They stood in the doorway looking at each other. Robert felt tingles throughout his body as his brain sent him messages he could barely suppress while Scott found himself taking in the complete woman before him that he felt drawn to in a most unprofessional manner.

“I’ll . . . I’ll have Robert phone you” Robert said as he opened the front door and Scott reached into his top pocket and produced a business card. “Here’s my number if he doesn’t already have it. My personal mobile phone is listed so I can be reached anytime” he added with a smile. He took one more look at his host and said “It’s been really lovely meeting you. Thanks again, Bobbi” and walked down the path to his car.

Robert closed the door and let out the deepest sigh he had ever made. So many emotions were racing through him at that moment. There was also the confidence that came from having entertained another man who thought he was a woman and so he decided while he felt that buzz it would be a good time to go shopping for those extra items he wanted to add to his wardrobe. It was time to go downtown.

(to be continued . . .)

 
It was a Monday morning around 10am as I recall. It was far too early to be sitting in a meeting for my taste. I’m not a morning person, and need a couple of mugs of black coffee down my throat before I start being polite to people. To be fair, my colleagues know this and usually give me a wide berth as a result. I am worst on Mondays because returning to the grindstone after a weekend of freedom takes an extra mug.

I work in the local Government Organisation as an Economic Development Officer and the meeting was called to discuss a brown field site on the edge of town and what could be done to it to encourage a new owner or developer to come in and revitalise the area. It had been an chemicals plant at one time and the ground was unfit for housing or recreation purposes. The full department was brought in to generate ideas and one by one we made our way to a seat around the table.

Looking across I saw the usual suspects, the keen and enthusiastic young jocks, the cynical old hacks who had seen it all before, and the nervous others who knew the economy was slumping and the slim chance of securing new business would only highlight that we were overstaffed for the amount of commerce we were able to secure. Standing at the head of the table was our Department Head, Clive - 30 years of experience in the role and desperate to retire while there was still some hope of a pension package. “OK everyone, if I can have your attention” he called out through the hubbub of the team discussing each other’s weekends. “Coren Hill Industrial Estate – been barren for 6 years now and its going to cost the Authority some serious money to keep the fly-tippers out, clean up the acids and chemicals that are in the surrounding soil and subsoil, and stop kids going in there in case of any of them catching god knows what ailments!”

There was chuckling from the table before the Department Head said “Right – you all know the location and the issues we have and I asked you to give it some thought so, lets hear from you all. Tony?” One of the young guns stood up and said “Thanks Clive. It’s a tough sell, given the site’s previous uses and that has greatly restricted who we can speak to in terms of redeployment. I know my colleague in housing would happily take it off our hands if it was cleaned up and I am sure I could get a good value for the Authority if that was sold to a private Housing developer given the location?”

The team leader rolled his eyes. “Tony, don’t waste my time telling us what we already know. We would be beating developers off with a stick if it was a green field site but its toxic!“ I could have sat there waiting my turn to be asked but I was still grouchy and just wanted things concluded as quickly as possible so I thrust up a hand and he nodded to me. “Jamie? Your thoughts?” I didn’t bother standing up – I wasn’t wanting to bask in any glory or put anyone’s nose out of joint. I just cleared my throat and began. “A good friend of mine works with a distribution company who receives and delivers items for one of the major on-line retailers who are based in the Far East. They had been using warehousing south of the Thames as much of their produce came into Tilbury Docks on container ships.”

I watched as the table’s eyes fell on me when I continued “They have been having real issues with traffic congestion on the M2 and M25 and cannot fulfil deliveries as quickly the way other retailers outwith the M25 belt can. I’ve known Jill since we were at school together and I met with her last week and suggested they use Felixstowe instead of Tilbury. That way, trucks can get onto the A14 and connect with the M1, M6 and whatever to service their local distribution network. If they do that they can avoid the delays of the Tibury area but they will need a large depot within an hour of the docks and I showed Jill that our site is 40 minutes drive at most.”

The room went quiet but I could see a glimmer of a smile appearing on Clive’s face. “Did you explain about the previous use, Jamie?” I nodded. “They would want to remove most of the soil anyway to lay down a lot of concrete for the warehouse itself and the surrounding estate would be concreted over to give hard standing for trucks and support vehicles. They would want to plant some trees around the perimeter to reduce the visual impact for local residents but the economic benefits from jobs creation should mitigate any moans about the warehouse. Besides which, it’s a lot kinder than the chemical works were and most residents in that area were around at that time and appreciate not having that facility on their doorstep anymore!”

My boss looked delighted with the news and asked “So can you set up a meeting for me to meet the decision makers so we can negotiate a price and get them on board?” I shrugged and said “I can speak with Jill and give her the specs on the site. We will need to discuss with Roads about having an improved access road to the site that links to the trunk roads so as to minimise disruption to domestic traffic in the area,” Clive nodded and said “I’ll attend to that – you get me face to tace with the customer and we’ll hopefully move forward quickly! Good work, Jamie,” I nodded thanks to the boss for the praise and the rest of the team muttered their reluctant appreciation of my efforts. All except for Alan from the department’s finance section. He was gazing out the window into the middle distance, clearly absorbed in his own thoughts.

“OK, I don’t want anyone resting on laurels or counting chickens” Clive continued. “Everyone, keep looking for potential leads for the site in case this falls through and Jamie, keep on at your contact and do whatever you can to get me that meeting to present our proposals, OK? Anyone got other business to discuss?” He scanned the room and noticed Alan still looking outside. “Alan?” he said to no response. “ALAN!” he shouted and his head shot round immediately. “Sorry Clive, I . . . I. em . . .I’ll get a financial breakdown for the site you can present in the next couple of days.” Clive nodded and said “Wasn’t what I was asking, but I’ll take that! You’ve nothing else you want to discuss?” Alan shook his head and a few round the table giggled quietly as Clive rolled his eyes and said “OK, folks, back to your desks.”

I deliberately shuffled my paperwork on the desk to let most folk leave the room to leave just Alan and I alone. I had a lot of time for Alan – he wasn’t like most of the other males in the team. He was more introverted, less of a sports jock and more artistic or at least capable of discussing things other than who scored for Arsenal last night, or is playing scrum half in the next International. Instead we had talked about documentaries on the TV and books by our favourite authors. If I had a friend in the team, it was Alan. “What’s up? Something bothering you?” I asked him and he sighed deeply and shook his head. “No, just got a few things on my mind that’s all. Personal stuff, not work related so no impact to anyone here.”

He got out of his seat and picked up his note pad and added “Well done on the lead for that site! Its going to save us a lot of money if we can sell it on!” I smiled and nodded. “Thanks. Listen, if you need someone to talk to in here, you know where to find me. A problem shared, and all that?” He gave me a weak smile in return and said “Thanks Jamie. See you later” and he walked off towards his desk. I frowned and then went back to my own desk area. I’m not an agony aunt but I don’t like seeing people struggle with something. I’ve seen too many people let issues fester inside them and bring them down. I vowed to keep an eye on my colleague.

The rest of that week went quickly. I was busy liaising with Jill and trying to get a positive message through her to her contact in the hope we could present them with a business proposition to suit their needs. It gave me an excuse to go over and see her on the Wednesday afternoon and we chatted over a coffee and talked about the fun times when we were at school and the teachers who we didn’t like. I told her off the record that we were eager to seal a deal on the location and that my boss would be open to negotiations relating to improving road access to the site and urged her to get a meeting organised so that we could both know whether the idea had any merit or not. She smiled and said “From one St Cecilia’s ex student to another, I’m sure we can do that!” and we hugged on that before I headed back to the office.

On Friday morning we were all sitting at our desks around 11.45am when Clive walked into the office with a huge smile on his face. “Just back from meeting Mr Wu from the Metu.com website and he is excited by my presentation this morning and is going to report back to Shanghai with a strong recommendation that his company accepts our proposals and buys the land at Coren Hill Industrial Estate” he announced to all who could hear. There were some cheers and a few whoops of joy. “I think we’ve gotten in ahead of any other local authority and our proposals meet all their requirements at a price that they are happy with - thanks Alan for those figures! So, everyone, go and have an extended lunch break folks, we’ve earned it! Don’t come back before 3.30pm, and remember we finish at 4 today!”

There was a mass rising from the desks and grabbing of jackets at that moment and my colleague Gordon called out “OK, Jamie, joining us at the ‘Saddlers’?” While I was not averse to joining the other members of the team in the local boozer on special occasions, I spotted Alan out of the corner of my eye, still sat in his seat looking miserable and I didn’t want him to be the odd man out. “Eh, no” I responded. “Promised Alan we’d have a frame of snooker today! Booked for noon. See you later.” There was some laughter from a couple of the lads in the team and one commented “Can women play snooker?” which I ignored and watched them stream out of the door and on their way.

Alan waited till it was just the two of us in the office and sighed deeply/ “Thank you” he said in a soft voice. “I couldn’t have faced them all lunchtime.” I grabbed my jacket and replied “Well, come on then, lets go have a frame of snooker and maybe you’ll tell me what’s wrong and how I can help!” He looked at me with a frown and said “You actually play snooker, then?” I laughed and nodded. “My dad had a table in the garage my brother and him played on regularly but Mum and I would occasionally play too just for fun and I got to enjoy it. I’m no Ronnie O’Sullivan, but its just a way to relax. Come on, I’ll drive.”

We went to the local snooker club and found a table at the far end where we played a frame that lasted almost an hour – neither of us being that proficient in sinking the balls in the pockets. Alan and I laughed and relaxed together and went into the adjacent coffee shop for a coffee, taking an alcove out of the way from the other customers. We ordered an Americano and a vanilla latte and once they were delivered I looked at him and said “OK, Alan, out with it. You’re struggling with something and we know each other well enough that I want to help and you should let me”.

He looked around nervously to ensure we weren’t being seen or heard and he replied “Look, this is the first time I’ve told anyone this OK, so promise me this stays between you and me, please! I would die if the rest of the office knew!” He looked so worried I reached across and placed my hand over his and said “Alan, I promise this goes no further than the two of us. What’s wrong?” He took a deep breath and checked around once more before whispering to me “I’m a woman”.

I tried not to laugh but my face must have shown something because he quickly added “Well, OK, I’m not female obviously, but inside, Jamie. Inside, I feel I am a girl. I feel that I am in the wrong body and I just feel so frustrated and angry that I can’t be who I really am!” He licked his lips and continued “When I am at home I can dress how I prefer and wear makeup and its like a huge weight comes off my shoulders and I can watch whatever I want on TV or the internet and listen to my kind of music and read the websites that I find interesting. I can live like I want to – until I come to work that is.”

I gave his hand a squeeze and said “So how does your family feel about this?” and I saw his face fall. “That’s the problem. I haven’t told them. I want to its just . . . my parents are old fashioned and I’m their only child and I don’t want to disappoint them!” He snorted and said “It’s their 25th anniversary next year and they wanted me to be there with a girlfriend but I want to be there in a dress and heels!”

I took a sip of my latte and said “Have you spoken to a doctor about this?” and he nodded. “I was referred to a gender dysphoria expert and psychiatrist 18 months ago and I have been taking hormone replacement tablets for the past 12 months.” I nearly coughed out my coffee as I heard the news. “So you have been on the pathway for a year already with medical supervision?” He nodded and I smiled “That’s great, Alan! So why the long face?” He looked me square in the eye and said “I’ve started changing.”

He sipped his coffee and continued “Up until now I was able to visit my parents without telling them anything. Yes, they have told me to get a haircut but otherwise I was the way I’ve always been to them, but I am due to visit them for the family Christmas . . . I’ve started getting breasts.” Automatically my eyes fell to his chest and he said “I’m wearing a sports bra – I’ve been wearing it to work for the past month and its getting more and more uncomfortable. I wear dark coloured shirts to try and hide the bulges but they are there and getting bigger.”

I wanted to tell him they were not visible but now that he had alerted me to his dilemma I could see two bulges quite clearly. He looked at me and said “Mum’s a hugger. She’s going to feel my girls no matter how I try to hide them. I . . . I’m not ready to come out to them yet! I’m not ready for the rejection!” Alan’s face started to flush as his eyes watered and he reached for a tissue as he tried to fight off his tears.

I reached out and held both his hands, making sure we weren’t being watched, and said “Alan, you can’t hide from your family forever. Not now you are physically changing. If your parents love you, they always will, however you appear to them. They may need time to process how you are transitioning but at the end of the day you are still their child. In time they will understand better what you have gone through and how this is how you want to live your life going forward. You’re an adult now and capable of making those decisions for yourself.” I smiled and squeezed his hands. “Be strong. Be the woman you want to be. Just remember to tell your parents she will always love them like you always have!”

Alan looked pitifully at me and said “Would you come with me – like for moral support?” and I smiled and shook my head. “The great reveal is something you need to do alone, just you and your family. That way you can have an honest and open discussion.” His face sank so I continued “But I can come with you on your second visit if you want, after the dust has settled and they have come to terms with your news. As long as that’s not on Christmas Day itself – I do have my own family to visit that day!” He managed a weak smile and said “Thanks Jamie. You’re a real mate. I appreciate you doing that for me!” I smiled and replied “That’s what friends are for!”.

We left the coffee shop and I checked my watch. It was still only 2,30pm and Clive didn’t want us back in the office for an hour. “Come on, we’ve got time to kill. Lets take a walk down the coastal path and you can tell me your story” I said to my co-worker. We were about 50 yards down the path with nobody around when I said “By the way, what’s your name?” That comment got me a puzzled look and I laughed. “Look, you’re not really ‘Alan’ are you – that’s just for work and family purposes so what’s your name when you are truly yourself?” She paused and looked a little bashful as she replied “Lauren .. . . I’m Lauren.” I turned and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Lauren” I said and leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

She seemed shocked at my actions and yet somewhere within her I could see a hint of pleasure. “So did you have a favourite doll when you were little?” I asked as I began walking, forcing her to follow me. “N . . . no . . .not really. I would borrow my sister’s toys when she wasn’t looking” she said and then paused and added “Geraldine was one of the dolls I liked. She had a pretty dress and she had a nice smile.” As we walked along the path, the stories began to flow. Years of holding in her true emotions and desires came to an end and she could talk to a friend about how she really felt and what made her truly happy. As we walked I deliberately let our fingers collide and then I locked them and a few moments later we were holding hands.

At first she didn’t notice but then I felt her tense up and she looked at me in shock. “We’re holding hands – in public!” she exclaimed in a whisper for fear of being heard. I laughed “and where is the law that says I can’t hold hands with a girl in public?” She checked the horizon once more for someone and replied “a girl dressed as another man!” and I shrugged and said “There’s no law against that, and besides her appearance is only temporary. Soon she’s going to look like she always wanted to! So, anyway, when you decided you wanted to start HRT, did you go to your own GP?” She shook her head. “He was the family doctor and I was scared the news would get out so I did an internet search for a local doctor who dealt with gender dysphoria and he was able to access my files to check my medical history.”

As we had reached the end of the concreted path by this time we turned around to head back into town and we were confronted by a woman walking her dog who had clearly been behind us for a while. I felt Lauren trying to get her hand out of mine but I grasped it tight and loudly said “Oh Lauren, I cannot believe you did that babe!” and kissed her on the lips. I saw the woman with the dog smile at us as she walked past and I broke contact and said “I’ll bet she was like totally embarrassed when you did that! You’ve got to let me see the pictures in TikTok!” and we walked back, the lady having already headed down the beach following her pet.

Lauren looked confused and a little shaken as she quickly turned around to check her surroundings and I giggled. “Nobody with placards decrying TG rights, and.there’s nobody saying we are doing anything wrong. The lady with the dog barely acknowledged we were here! Lauren, you can be out and living the life you want without fear. This is a pretty open minded town!” She looked at me and smiled. “Jamie, I have wanted a friend like you who would see me for who I really was and make me feel safe and accepted. Its . . its been a long year on the hormones and my emotions have been all over the place.” She leaned in to me and kissed my cheek. “Thank you” she said.

I took her face in my hands and kissed her full on the lips and this time she didn’t pull away. We allowed ourselves to enjoy the moment fully as she held me tight and when we parted she smiled and said “Thank you. I needed that!” She thrust her hand in mine and we began walking back again. “You have to come over to my flat sometime. I have a wonderful collection of outfits and shoes that I’d love you to see me in! I’ve got a make up box the size of a pirates chest of course – months of You Tube and Tik Tok presentations have made me pretty handy at hiding Alan behind a load of Maybelline products!” I smiled. Lauren was out now and I knew she could move forward and take the next steps and I would be there for her every step of the way.

The next day Lauren went to her parents and told them she was transitioning and her reasons why. At first they were confused but Lauren was able to convince them that she was happier living as a woman and she had always been their daughter growing up and would remain their daughter going forward. On the Sunday I went back with her and we took her Mum and Dad out for lunch. I told them I was a work colleague who supported Lauren 100% and reminded them that our employer was a staunch supporter of transgender rights and that Lauren’s career would not be damaged in any way shape or form by her transition and any staff member showing any sign of prejudice would be disciplined or fired.

That seemed to reassure them and by the time we went back to their house for coffee, Lauren and her mum were chatting together happily and her mum was passing on jewellery that had been in the family for generations and could now be passed on to the latest woman in line. Her dad and I chatted quietly together and I managed to answer most of his concerns for Lauren’s safety in the wider society, telling him that LGBTQ groups coordinated through internet chat groups and websites to recommend bars and restaurants that were specifically welcoming, and organising functions where like minded people could make friends and support each other – advising on safe taxi companies to use, and beauty salons where staff were happy to keep you looking gorgeous.

“I worry for her safety” he said quietly to me, making me smile with the casual acceptance of the new pronoun for his only born son. I smiled and said “I promise I’ll look out for her and make sure she is OK and I am sure there will be others in the office who will do the same” I reassured him and saw his tension release .

On the Monday I was with Lauren when she had a meeting with Clive and a senior representative from the HR department where she announced that she was transitioning and wanted to attend work as a woman from January 4th following the Christmas break. I was really only there to hold her hand – figuratively speaking – but it served to show that she had already come out to me and her family and that there would be support from within the team. Clive seemed shocked and said “Are you OK with this Jamie?” and I smiled and said “100%. A happy employee is a productive employee and I am sure Lauren will do great things in the New Year!” HR said they would adjust the work e-mails and contact list to reflect the new name but for payroll and pension purposes she would need to have her name changed by deed poll. Lauren said she was already planning to do just that.

When the department Christmas Party came around on our last working day, Lauren and I arrived together. She was wearing a stunning red bodycon dress with sheet tights and a pair of killer red high heels. Her hair and make up had been done that afternoon by a salon that came recommended and it took everyone a moment to realise this was their colleague “en-femme”. Rather than make one loud announcement, she went round everyone individually and explained that this was who Alan really was and they would be working with Lauren from after the Christmas break. Most jaws dropped and eyes ran up and down the body before them but such was the obvious woman before them, most comments were simply “How did we not see this sooner?!” and after the meal when the dancing started I noticed a number of the males asking her up to dance.

During the year that followed Lauren was quickly accepted as the team member in the office and she blossomed in the positive atmosphere around her. As I had promised, I was there for her whenever she needed me, and became a confident she could chat to about concerns or decisions she was going to make. We saw a lot of each other socially and we went shopping trips together until she began to make new friends in the LGBTQ community and found herself able to interact with a wider social circle. I was immensely proud of her, my protégé I had helped develop from the nervous male to the confident woman.

That August the department’s euro lottery syndicate struck pay dirt after years of disappointment. We got a secondary prize which gave us all £15,000. Lauren came up to me and hugged me as soon as she heard the news. “This is life changing money!” she gushed. “I’m going to spend it to go to Thailand and have the surgery I’ve always wanted!” Then she looked into my eyes and said “I don’t want to do it alone though. Would you come with me? You’ve been there for me for so long now, it kind of feels that you should be there when things reach their conclusion!”

And so it was that Christmas I was in a clinic in Thailand holding Lauren’s hand as we lay side by side in two hospital beds wearing only surgical gowns. “Oh my god we’re actually doing this!” she said to me and I nodded and said “My parents thought this day would never come! I mean, I was on blockers and estrogen when I was 16 and I’ll be 26 in February!” Lauren sighed. “You got to be a girl through college and everything you lucky bitch! I’ve only had a year!!” I laughed “I know, and I was going to get SRS before starting my career but this job came up and I couldn’t get enough leave and it was always on my to do list!” Lauren laughed and then squeezed my hand. “You were always my inspiration, Jamie. Having a successful transgender co-worker I could aspire to be like meant so much and then being able to show my parents how happy and successful you were really tilted the balance for me. You’re very special to me!”

I gave her a look and said “I’ll tell Gary you said that – he’ll be so jealous!” Lauren laughed. “He’s just my boyfriend! You’re my bestie – that’s so much more important!”

I was going to respond when doctors came into the pre-op where we lay and said “Ok, we put drug into cannula now and when you wake up, all will be complete, OK?” We took deep breaths and said OK and I added “Love you Bestie!” and Lauren said “Love you more” as the anaesthetic began to enter our bodies and we counted down “5. .4. . .3. . “”