I woke up suddenly and cried with pain. Being hit in the face was not a nice way to be wakened.

My eyes blinked in the sudden light. Looking up I could see my step father glaring down at me.

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 1

1

I woke up suddenly and cried with pain. Being hit in the face was not a nice way to be wakened.

My eyes blinked in the sudden light. Looking up I could see my step father glaring down at me.

'You bloody faggot. I told you what I would do if I caught you again.'

Bringing my legs up to my chin, I waited for him to tell me what I already knew. The thin cotton material of my nightie did nothing to stop me shivering as beer ravaged face glared down at me.

My face still smarted at the stinging blow and I was close to tears but there was no way that I would show weakness in front of this shit.

I wondered fleetingly where my mum was; probably hiding away from this bully of a man.

'When I get home tonight I don't want to see you here. Take yourself and all those slutty girls’ clothes and get out. Do you understand?'

I just nodded.

He looked down at me, contempt on his face. I hated him more than anyone else that I had ever known. Why my mum ever loved or even liked him, I would never know.

‘You disgust me, you pervert. Why don’t you be like a man, eh? ’Cause you’re a little queer who wears girls clothes. I don’t want to ever see you again, understand? If you try to contact me or your mum, I’ll kill you. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?’

I didn’t say anything. I knew his temper and mood swings only too well. I could have said that I was only 15 and a minor, but he wouldn’t care. My mum had been under his thumb for three years, ever since she made the mistake of marrying him. She was probably in the bedroom now, under the covers, hiding away, not wanting another beating again. I have marks on my body from the many times that he beat me, too.

My Dad died 4 years ago and I still miss him. Mum met Ken–my step dad at a social do. He is a van driver working at the same place that mum does; she works in the office. They got on well evidently and initially, things seemed to go OK. I didn’t meet him until about three months after they first went out. He seemed all right at first and bent over backwards to be nice to me. All that changed after they got married. We began to see what he was really like…a bully, cheat, drinker and womanizer.

I won’t go on about the beatings that both me and mum had to endure. The drinking normally made him that way, but recently things had been getting worse. He would have a go at me in particular as he had found out about my dressing habits, catching me out twice when he came home early from work

Mum had known for some time that I liked dressing and being a girl. I couldn’t explain why I am like it. It’s something I think that I was born with. Mum understood somehow that I’m not like other boys, being gentle and loving, not interested in boys games and preferring the company of girls. I first started dressing when I was about four, although I can’t remember it too well. Mum didn’t encourage me, it was all my idea. Because I was so insistent, mum bought me a few items of girls’ clothes and I wore them around the house when I could. Also I practiced with makeup in the security of my room–with the door bolted, of course. Dad, being a lorry driver wasn’t there much and it was the times that he was away that Susan came out. He did see me once or twice dressed, but was tolerant enough to put it down to my ‘playing’.

My step dad on the other hand, was someone who couldn’t tolerate queers, lesbians or drag artists like what he called me or any other minority. He tried to beat the gentleness and femininity out of me, but you can’t change who you are, so despite the terrible treatment, physical and mental, I was still Susan. The only thing he liked about me was my love of football.

I suppose it helped that I was a good player. I saw nothing strange about liking football. Many girls play now and there are countless leagues out there playing to a very good standard. Of course being–outwardly anyway–a boy, meant that I had to play as a boy. None of the leagues around where I lived had mixed teams, although there has been talk of changing that for next season. I just played with a lot of mates over at the playing fields.

My mind was brought back to the present by yet another smack around the face. It was hard enough to make me cry.

‘Are you listening, you poofter? I want you out of here by the time I get home. If you are still here, you’ll be carried out in a box!’

With that, he gave me one more disgusted look and went out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

A few seconds later, I could hear him shout at mum. I wanted to go to her, but knew, if I did, he would go berserk. I hid my head under the covers, shaking with fear and the knowledge that I was being made homeless.

A few minutes later, I heard the front door slam….he had gone. I got up and went out into the hall. I knocked on mum’s door and on hearing her sobbing; I opened it and went in.

She was sitting on the bed, cradling a pillow like it was a baby, she was crying and rocking at the same time. Going over to her, I sat down and put my arm around her. After a few minutes, she seemed to pull herself together. She looked at me and touched my sore cheek.

‘Oh, Mark, what are we going to do?’

‘He said I had to go.’

‘I know. He’s like that, blows hot and cold. He’ll probably be OK tonight.’

‘Why don’t we just go?’

‘We can’t.’

‘Why not, he’s a bully and I hate him. Anyway, he wants me out and I think that he means it.’

‘I’m sure he doesn’t. When he comes home tonight we’ll get around the kitchen table and talk things through.’

‘Mum, I can’t take this anymore. I’m leaving.’

‘You can’t leave, you’re only 15!’

‘So, I’ll be 16 in a few months and then I can go where I like…I’m just going a bit early. Anyway I don’t want to be here when he gets home.’

‘I did tell you not to dress as a girl when he’s at home.’

‘I thought that I’d bolted the door last night, I must have forgot.’

‘You must stay here, Mark, you can’t live on your own; you are too young.’

‘Why don’t you come with me mum?’

‘I…I…can’t.’

‘Why not? He hits you more than he does me. He’s no good, he’s not like dad.’

‘I…I won’t go.’

‘Why not?’

‘I…still…love him.’

‘WHAT! How could you still love him after all he has done to you?’

‘I can’t explain it. I won’t leave him. I will make things better. It’s my fault that he’s this way. I need to apologise and make things better.’

‘Mum, can you hear yourself? It’s not your fault that he spends all the money on drinking and gambling and it’s not your fault that he’s a bully. Please, please come with me. We could go now, just get dressed and pack a few things; we could be out of here in an hour and go somewhere where he can’t get to us.’

Looking at mum, I could see the indecision on her tear stained face, then her lips hardened.

‘No, I’m staying.’

I got up and looked down at her.

‘Sorry mum, I have to go.’

‘You can’t go. YOU ARE TOO YOUNG!’

More tears coursed down my face as I left the room, shutting the door behind me. I nearly turned back as I could hear my mum crying behind the closed door, but I knew that I had to get out. Perhaps things would get better if I was out of the way. Maybe my step father couldn’t cope with bringing me up. Anyway, I had decided what I was going to do so now I had to go through with it.

I went into the bathroom and took off my sweat stained nightie. I got under the shower and tried to wash off the pain and suffering. Of course it didn’t do anything of the sort.

Luckily I wasn’t shaving yet and what body hair I had was like a fine down rather than proper manly hairs, not that I wanted those! I didn’t wash my shoulder length blond hair as I didn’t have time to dry it. Now I had decided to get out, the sooner I did it the better. I didn’t want my mum to try and persuade me to stay and the longer I stayed, the more chance she would have of trying to stop me.

After drying myself, I picked up my nightie and went into my bedroom. Standing on a chair, I took the suitcase from the top of the wardrobe and put it on the bed.

Inside already were my girls’ clothes. I put the nightie in a carrier bag and stuffed it down the side of the case. Opening the wardrobe, I took out some shirts, jeans and trousers and a few sweatshirts. I had two sets of football kit too and I folded everything carefully up and put the clothes in the case, together with some slippers, a pair of shoes and some trainers. To this I added some boys’ under things and socks.

Going over to my chest of drawers I opened the bottom drawer. At the back were my girls’ panties, padded bras, tights and a three night dresses. Taking them out, I folded them in the case and tried to shut it.

Closing the case was a bit hard as it was a somewhat full. I was concerned that my dresses and other things were going to get creased and hoped that I was going to be able to have the use an iron from somewhere.

My rucksack was hanging from a hook on the back of the door and I picked it up and opened it. At the bottom was my football boots, in the bag that came with them. From under my bed, I pulled out my pink makeup bag and put it in the rucksack together with my hair dryer and brush. Then, I went back into the bathroom and picked up my wash bag, stuffed all my toiletries in it and then, after checking that I had everything I needed, I went back into my bedroom and put everything into the rucksack.

On a chair were the clothes that I had got out the night before to wear for today; just my football track suit, t-shirt, pants and white socks. After dressing quickly, I had a good look around the room and picked up my ipod, mobile phone and wallet and put them in with my laptop in its padded case. I was now nearly ready to go.

Sitting on the bed to do up my trainers, I took one last look around the bedroom that had been part of my home for all of my life. I didn’t want to leave…I shouldn’t have to leave, but I had to get out. I was determined not to cry. I had nice memories of the house especially when dad was alive. After my step father moved in, things changed and it just wasn’t the same place any more.

Sighing, I stood up, grabbed my case, laptop bag and rucksack, took one more look around the room and reluctantly went out into the hall. To say that I had a lump in my throat would be an understatement.

I knocked on mum’s door.

‘Mum, I…I’m going now.’

She opened her door; I could see that she had been crying. Taking one look at my case, her eyes started to get wet again and tears started forming in the corners of her eyes.

‘Don’t go, Mark. Wait till he gets home. I’m sure it can be cleared up, love. Families always row.’

‘Mum, you know what he’s like. I’m not going to let him hit me anymore and anyway, he told me to get out. Please come with me.’

She shook her head.

‘I can’t.’ she whispered.

My lips trembled and I found it very hard not to give in. I gave her a quick hug and a kiss on her wet cheek.

‘Bye mum, I’ll let you know where I am as soon as I’m settled…love you.’

Without another glance, I picked up my case and rucksack and left her. It was so hard to ignore the sobs and calls to make me stay, but I did. I had made my decision and now I had to follow it through.

2

I worked part time at a café opposite the playing fields where I play football. Jeff, the owner was a nice man, about thirty, with a wife and two tiny children. I had always been able to talk with Jeff and as I didn’t have anywhere to go, I went to the café for breakfast. It was quiet when I walked in and there was only two other customers there, with Jeff behind the counter. As I walked in, Jeff looked up and smiled.

‘Hi, Mark, looking for an extra shift?’

‘No, just breakfast.’ I said dumping my suitcase and rucksack down by the side of the counter.

‘What's with the case, going on holiday?’

‘No.’ I laughed bitterly, ‘I’ve been chucked out.’

‘You’re not 16 yet!’

‘I know, tell that to my step father. Anyway, at least he won’t hit me anymore.’

The two customers left and Jeff came out from behind the counter, went over to the door, locked it and turned the closed sign on.

‘Right sit there and I’ll get you some breakfast. What do you fancy?’

‘Egg bacon sausage toast and a cup of tea please. Look you don’t have to shut the café because of me.’

‘Yes I do. Anyway, it’s quiet this morning after the rush and I could do with a break myself.’

Ten minutes later, I was tucking into my breakfast and in between bites, telling Jeff all that had occurred that morning–all except my dressing habits that is!

‘I never did like Ken; why your mum married him, I’ll never know. Do you want me to speak to the police about him? He shouldn’t be allowed to hit you or your mum.’

I shook my head.

‘No, mum won’t ever prosecute and anyway if I did something mum would be the one to suffer.’

‘So, what now?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well where are you going to live for starters and what about school?’

‘Stuff school; It’s the pits anyway. An all boy’s school that breeds criminals and where the bullies rule. I have always hated it and in a few months I’ll be 16 and then I was going to leave anyway.’

‘You got good GCSE grades, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, though I don’t know how, as the school was crappy. I got six A grades and one A-Star.’

‘You should stay on; you could get A Levels and then go to university.’

‘No, I don’t want any more school.’

‘You didn’t tell me about where you are going to live.’

‘I don’t know; I might stay at a motel like Travelodge for a few days and then get a flat or something.’

‘That will cost.’

‘I know, but I got some money when dad died and that will help until I get back on my feet.’

Jeff looked at me, hesitated and then spoke.

‘Look, Mark, I would love to have you at my house, but it’s small, not big enough to swing a cat, what with the kids and everything…’

‘I don’t want…’

‘Hear me out. As I say, I don’t have any space at my house, but if you want, until you sort yourself out, you can stay in the flat upstairs here for a while. I’ve just done it up and intended to rent it out...you can stay there if you like: mind you, we really ought to speak to social services; you are still under age…’

‘Please don’t Jeff. They won’t want to know me after I’m 16.’

‘Well, technically, you are a minor until 18.’

‘I know, but they are more interested in small kids. You know what it’s like.’

‘Okay, but if things don’t work out, then we will have to go down that route.’

‘Thanks Jeff, you are a star. How much do you want for rent?’

‘I wouldn’t charge you anything, but I know how stubborn you are. How about fifty pounds a week and a few extra shifts?’

‘That sounds great.’

‘Good, you can go and put your stuff upstairs in a minute. I’ll show you everything after you’ve finished feeding your face.’

3

The flat had a separate door at the side of the building. As I followed Jeff up the stairs, I wondered if the flat was going to be all right for my purposes. Then I smiled: anything would be better than living at home at the moment.

At the top of the stairs was another door. Jeff put the key in the lock and then opened the door, motioning me to go in.

‘Have a look around and then come down and see me; here are the keys,’ he said handing them to me and then going down the stairs.

I walked into the lounge which was quite big. It had a large window to the front, another at the back, together with a door which led to a small balcony with metal railings.

The carpet was powder blue and looked almost new. There was a sofa and two easy chairs, a small TV and table in the corner. The walls were cream coloured and looked freshly painted. All in all, it was a nice light airy room and I loved it.

Then I looked at the kitchen, which was small but had a cooker, fridge freezer and microwave. The bedroom was about half the size of the lounge and had a double bed in it. Once again the carpet was blue and the walls were cream. There was a small walk in wardrobe in the corner, a chest of drawers and in another corner, next to the large window, a dressing table and red padded chair.

Next, I wandered into the bathroom. It was a decent sized room with a bath over to one side and on the other was a shower cubicle and next to that was the wash basin and toilet. Over the wash basin was a large mirror with a strip light over it. The floor had cream tiles that matched the tiles on the walls.

Going back to the lounge, I sat on the sofa, not quite believing my luck. This place was great and I couldn’t believe that Jeff was letting me have it for just fifty pounds a week!

After a few minutes, I went downstairs and shut the front door behind me. Going back into the café, I saw that Jeff had opened up again and had several customers. I took off my track suit top and put on an apron, thinking that this was a good time to repay his kindness. Jeff smiled as he saw me. I just gave him a thumbs up sign and started clearing some dirty plates and cups from the tables.

We were kept busy for an hour and I didn’t have much chance to talk to Jeff as he was knee deep in fry-ups. However, the breakfast rush finally went down to a trickle and we were able to talk between serving the few remaining customers.

‘Jeff, the flat is really great. Are you sure you only want fifty pounds a week?’

‘Yes, I would prefer someone who I like and trust to pay that rather than someone else who pays double and trashes the place.’

‘Well thanks anyway. I think it’s great–you helping me out like this.’

‘Well the wife would kill me if I hadn’t helped you out. You know she thinks of you as a sort of surrogate son.’

I smiled as I thought of Josie, Jeff’s wife; a bubbly little thing with a happy smile and normally knee deep in nappies. The lovely twins were six months old, both beautiful little girls with sparse blond curly hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Josie was such a nice woman and always makes a fuss when I see her. She was one of my favourite people and I love her almost as much as my mum. I had worked in the café since I was thirteen, first doing odd jobs and then helping behind the counter. It got me out of the house and had the added advantage of being near the playing fields where I played football as much as possible. It was now 10 o’clock and the normal closing time for the café. It reopened normally at 11.30 for lunches and after closing the doors, Jeff helped me upstairs with my case, using the internal door at the back of the café.

At the top of the stairs, I unlocked the door and went into my–yes my!–flat with Jeff following close behind.

Dumping the case on the floor of the lounge, Jeff looked around.

‘Do you like it?’

‘Yes, Jeff, it’s great.’

‘That’s good. Look, I have a spare set of keys just if I need to get in, in case of emergency, but as far as I am concerned, this is your home and I will never come in without your permission and I won’t just turn up without checking with you first. By the front door is an intercom telephone that leads down to the café. If I want to come up, I’ll ring you first, okay?’

‘Thanks Jeff, you’re a star.’

‘Well, maybe…anyway, pop downstairs when you want and take some milk and bread and any other stuff you need to tide you over, out of the pantry. You will need to do your own shopping as well, now you are living on your own.’

‘Thanks Jeff.’

‘Don’t keep thanking me. You are doing me a favour really, the flat needs living in. Anyway, thanks for helping out downstairs.’

‘Do you need help at lunch time?’

‘No, I should manage today. Just get yourself settled in.’

‘Okay.’

With that, Jeff left and I was alone in my flat…MY flat!’

4

I had another quick look around and then looked in the fridge…it was empty of course, so rather than raid Jeff’s pantry, I picked up the keys and let myself out. There was a small Co-op supermarket just five minutes’ walk away and I went there to get some stuff.

Just twenty minutes later I came back with three carrier bags full of food and other necessities.

After loading the fridge and the cupboards, I went into the bedroom and emptied my case on the bed. Putting my boys stuff on the left and my girls stuff to the right, I realised immediately that I didn’t have that much girls’ stuff to wear. Just four tops and skirts, two dresses including an LBD that I had bought off of EBay and hadn’t even tried on yet, a pair of girls jeans a couple of pairs of shorts, some nice white Capri’s and that was it. I needed to go back home at some stage and pick up the rest of my stuff, but was reluctant to do that unless it became really necessary.

I put everything away in the wardrobe and drawers, boys stuff to the left and girls to the right. Once I had done that, I grabbed a coke from the fridge and sat down in the lounge. I had some thinking to do.

As I sipped my drink, I looked back on the morning that had begun so violently and sadly. Many times in the past I had been disgusted with myself for wanting to dress and be a girl, thinking that it was strange and a bit wacky.

I had bought my laptop out of the money left to me by my dad. I also paid for the broadband connection. Also I had a mobile wireless contract with the mobile phone company, so I still had access to the net even here. Surfing the net made me realise that I wasn’t alone out there. Others were like me, trying to find some sense out of my need to relate to being a girl. I discovered that it was probable that I was born this way and there was a name for it–transgendered. It wasn’t my fault that I was like this, just like it wasn’t my fault that I had blond hair–it just was.

I missed my mum already, we had always been close and when dad died, we helped each other to cope, even though I was quite young. I suppose that having a tragedy like that happen makes you grow up quickly and I suppose that it did in my case.

I was feeling a bit down and then I got to thinking. I was alone in my own flat–I still liked the sound of it–I could dress as I liked and no one would object! Suddenly things started to look up. I had to dress as a boy outside, but I didn’t have to here! Looking out of the window, I could see that the flat wasn’t overlooked by other buildings. Unless I paraded in front of the windows, I would be unseen by anyone else. Yes things were looking up.

I looked at my watch and remembered that I had agreed to meet the lads for a practice match after lunch. I quickly made myself a sandwich–I didn’t want eat much as exercise and too much eating do not mix very well.

I changed into my football strip–blue shirt, white shorts and stockings–after that I put on my tracksuit and trainers. I emptied my rucksack of the stuff I didn’t need, just leaving my shin pads, boots, a red shirt in case I was in the red team this time, a bottle of water and a towel in there. Then I made my way downstairs, locking the door carefully behind me. I smiled at the thought that I now had my own front door and key! I waved at Jeff through the café window and made my way across the road to the playing fields.

5

In no time I was playing football and, for the moment, forgetting all my troubles.

I didn’t belong to a proper club; it was just a bunch of friends who came over the playing fields to have a friendly game of football. I suppose that there were about thirty of us that did it on a fairly regular basis. There were twenty pitches on the playing fields and they were never fully used even at the weekend so we didn’t ever have a problem getting a pitch. It did help that one of the lads–Phillip–had a dad who just happened to be the head groundsman!

Normally, we had enough lads turn up to make up two teams, occasionally even with substitutes too!

Anyway, today we just scraped eleven a side and we had a very good match. Three spectators helped by being the ref and linesmen. I played as a sort of attacking mid fielder; helping the defence, linking with the forwards and making the occasional stab at the goal. I played a good game, making 2 goals and being in the thick of most things. It was the second half and just a few minutes left. It looked like it was going to be a draw. Then I managed to tackle the ball away from the opposition and took the ball up field rather quickly. Too quickly really as none of my team mates were keeping up! I had three players plus the goal keeper in front of me. I jinked around the first player, nutmegged* the second and then flipped the ball over the head of the third. That just left the goal keeper. I could hear some heavy breathing behind me and wondered if someone was going to give me a lunging tackle from behind.

Jake was the goal keeper, a big lad about my age. He was quick on his feet and he came towards me. I was about twenty yards from the goal and I had to do something quick, so I lobbed the ball over the advancing keeper and the ball went sailing into the net, just under the bar. Just after that the whistle went and we had won the game–just. I was mobbed by my team and it was a great end to the game. Quite a few people were watching from the touchline and we all got clapped as we walked off to collect our gear. There were changing rooms and showers for those who needed them, but I was a bit shy of my body and normally went home to shower and change. After saying goodbye to everyone and with congratulations ringing in my ears, I started to walk back to my new home.

‘Excuse me.’

I turned around to the sound of the voice. It was an old chap, at least 40 and he was looking at me with a smile on his face.

‘Hello.’

‘I saw the game–you were very good.’

‘I don’t know about that…lucky I suppose.’

‘When you are good, you make your own luck.’

‘Erm…thanks.’

‘I know that you are cooling down and need a shower, son, but just a quick word?’

‘Okay…’

‘As I say, you are good. I’ve seen you play several times…you are head and shoulders better than anyone else here. How many goals have you made over the past few weeks, I’ve seen you play 4 times?’

‘I can’t remember.’

‘Well I counted ten and those are only ones I saw. What about goals…how many goals have you scored?’

‘Eight…I think.’

‘I counted nine,’

‘What’s all this about?’ I said, uncomfortable at being praised like this.

‘’If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?’

’15 nearly 16.’

‘A good enough age. I’m a scout for Melchester United; here’s my card. Have a word with your parents and get them to contact me. I think you would do well…very well and I’d like you to come to the club for a trial. Would you like to do that?’

My heart went into my mouth. Would I! You bet. I had loved football ever since I kicked my first ball on the beach with my dad when I was 4 years old.

‘I…I’m not good enough.’ I said, doubt creeping in to my voice.

‘I think you are, Mark. Have a chat with your parents and get them to give me a call. There is a trial match next Monday, if you want to come, I’ll give you the details after your parents ring me, okay?’

I just nodded, not knowing what to say.

‘Good lad, bye!’

He walked off, leaving me to walk the small distance to the café and my new home.

6

Being early January, it was starting to get dark as I arrived at the café. Jeff was just closing the café up and turned around as I walked up.

‘Hi Jeff.’

‘Hi yourself; had a good game?’

‘Yeah, it was great; I scored and made two other goals.’

‘If you’re not careful, you’ll be snapped up by one of the big clubs,’ he remarked smiling.

‘Funny you should say that…oh I’ll tell you tomorrow. Do you want a hand in the morning for breakfasts?’

‘No, have a lie in, it’s Sunday tomorrow, after all.’

‘Well just ring the flat if things get heavy.’

‘I will. I was going to ask if you want to come home for your tea, I know the wife will tell me off for not asking, but I expect you want to settle in.’

‘Yes, thanks for the offer. I’ll probably see you some time tomorrow.’

‘Okay, bye.’

‘See you,’

Jeff got into his car and drove off. I was getting a bit chilly as the sweat started to dry on my football kit so, shivering slightly, I fished my keys out and let myself in to my flat.

Once inside, I turned on the lights, dumped my rucksack on the floor then pulled the curtains across the windows.

Stripping quickly in the bathroom, I had a shower and washed the mud and sweat from my body. I used some nice scented shower gel called ‘Just For Girls’ and it smelt of strawberries–very nice. Then I washed my hair and used some conditioner. Stepping out of the shower, I dried myself off with a towel, thoughtfully provided by Jeff and then used my hair dryer to dry my hair.

My hair felt nice and soft when I had finished brushing it, I love clean, freshly washed hair. Going back to the bedroom, I opened the wardrobe, deciding what to wear. I decided on a Jane Norman white V neck top, it was short sleeved with a sequin detail below the bust. It went well with my black pull up skirt that went just above the knee. I put on my padded bra. It gave me a small but definite bust when I filled the cups with tissues, not ideal, but I didn’t have any breast forms yet. Then I pulled on some matching while cotton panties, quite tight so that they could help keep the boy bits up and out of the way. Next I put some flesh coloured tights on and marvelled as I always do, at the way they hug my legs and make me feel very feminine. I slipped up the skirt and then went back into the bathroom, where there was some good light.

Unzipping my makeup bag, I took everything out and put the items on the shelf just below the mirror; I picked up a scrunchie and pulled my hair back out of the way. I didn’t go much for heavy makeup as my skin was soft and I hadn’t started shaving–yet. I dreaded the day that would happen, but for now I was lucky.

I put on a very small amount of foundation, just enough to cover any blemishes, then a touch of pink blusher as I didn’t want to look all washed out. Next, I concentrated on my eyes; I think they are my best feature, blue and wide looking. Anyway, some dark blue shadow to emphasise my eyes and some black mascara on my long lashes completed the job. Finally, I concentrated on my lips, I used pink lip pencil to trace the outline of my lips and then some lip gloss was carefully applied. After using a tissue to get rid of the excess lippy, I had finished–twenty minutes from start to finish–I was getting better!

Returning to the bedroom, I carefully put on my top, taking care to keep it clear of my face. I hate makeup on clothes.

I quickly rebrushed my hair in the long mirror on the back of the wardrobe door and then stepped back to admire myself.

The reflection showed a pretty girl of about 16 or 17 and I couldn’t see much of Mark. Nodding to my reflection, I went and sat on the sofa. Looking at my stockinged feet reminded me that I didn’t have any girls’ shoes. I needed to get some and I wondered if I ought to chance going to the shopping centre some time or order on line like I did with most of my other girls things. Shoes were funny; I really preferred to try them on to see if they fitted okay…hmm.

Anyway, it was nearly six by now and I wondered where the afternoon had gone. I was a bit hungry and decided to get something to eat. Going out for a takeaway was not an option so I opened the freezer and picked out a frozen pizza, I had bought a couple from the supermarket.

Popping it in the oven, I knew that it would only take about fifteen minutes to cook.

I went back into the lounge and switched on the TV. On the news was an item about Melchester United; they had just bought another player for fifteen million pounds from Brazil. I wondered about the man I had met on the playing fields…was he winding me up? I went over to my track top and fished the card out of the pocket. On it was his contact details… Harry Collins, scout - Melchester United. There was an office and mobile number and in the corner the distinctive crest of Melchester United. Well it looked genuine enough. I could smell pizza coming from the kitchen so I put the card on the table and went to get my tea.

It was strange sitting at the small kitchen table eating pizza dressed in a skirt and top and with makeup on. Looking at the half finished glass of coke, I could see the lipstick marks clearly on it. It was nice, not having to be worried about being caught or anything. I finished my meal, quickly did the washing up and then sat down to watch a film I fancied that was due to start. It was High School Musical, it was a bit cheesy but I enjoyed it!

When the film finished, I watched a sitcom and then the news again. Yawning, I realised that it was getting late and decided that it was time for bed.

Twenty minutes later, I had removed my makeup, did the usual bedtime things and was in bed wearing my favourite long pink silky nightie. It had been a long day and I was tired as much because of the emotion of all the things that had happened rather than anything else. The day had started horribly yet ended so much better. I wondered how mum was and whether I ought to contact her tomorrow. I also didn’t know what to do about going for a trial with Melchester United. I desperately wanted to go, but knowing the fact that my parents would have to be involved meant that there were probably going to be problems over all of this.

To be continued...

*nutmegged - playing the ball through an opponent's legs.

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

‘Hello, Mum. It’s me … Mark.’

‘Mark, you shouldn’t be ringing me, you know that your dad will get angry,’ whispered mum, sounding a bit frightened.

‘Why are you whispering?’

‘Your dad’s sleeping, he might wake up and hear me.’

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 2

Previously...

Twenty minutes later, I had removed my makeup, did the usual bedtime things and was in bed wearing my favourite long pink silky nightie. It had been a long day and I was tired as much because of the emotion of all the things that had happened rather than anything else. The day had started horribly yet ended so much better. I wondered how mum was and whether I ought to contact her tomorrow. I also didn’t know what to do about going for a trial with Melchester United. I desperately wanted to go, but knowing the fact that my parents would have to be involved meant that there were probably going to be problems over all of this.

And now, the story continues...

1

‘Hello, Mum. It’s me … Mark.’

‘Mark, you shouldn’t be ringing me, you know that your dad will get angry,’ whispered mum, sounding a bit frightened.

‘Why are you whispering?’

‘Your dad’s sleeping, he might wake up and hear me.’

‘Don’t you want to know where I am?’

Silence.

‘Mum, are you still there?’

‘Look Mark, you had better not tell me where you are. Your dad might get to know and he’s blaming you for losing his job.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He came home late last night. He’d had a few drinks. Evidently he was stopped by the police and breathalysed. He had nearly twice the legal limit for alcohol in his blood. It meant instant dismissal.’

‘Why is it my fault?’ I exclaimed.

‘He said that he was so upset catching you dressed as a girl again, he lost his head and drank too much.’

‘That’s crap!’

‘Don’t talk like that!’

‘Why shouldn’t I? He is a drunk and he hits us and he blames everyone else for what he does…’

‘Mark, don’t say that. He’s had a hard life and been knocked back a lot.’

‘So have we … by him!’

‘Please, Mark, understand…’

‘I don’t understand him at all and I don’t understand why you stay with him.’

‘I … I can’t explain. I know he has done some bad things, but if you had known him before everything went wrong … look, I can hear him wake up next door. Don’t ring here again. I’ll ring you soon on your mobile. I’ve got your number … I have to go…’

‘But mum I have to tell you about the football … mum, are you there?’

I put the phone down and slipped back under the covers, frustrated and upset at my father and his treatment of me and mum.

I had woken up that morning, not quite knowing where I was. Then I felt the lovely soft nightie on my skin as I turned over in the warm bed. Opening my eyes, I could see my cheerful new room and everything that had happened flooded back at me. The nice things like my new home and the football trial and then the nasty things where my father had hit me and made me leave my home.

I had immediately thought of my mum and picked up my mobile to call her. To say the conversation that we had was upsetting, would be a bit of an understatement. She was scared stiff of him and I knew that there was no way that she could help me go to the football trial on Monday.

I really didn’t know what to do; it was Sunday and the trial was tomorrow. I had a sneaky feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to go and that really upset me because I had always dreamed of playing football with good players…if only once in a trial game. I knew that I wasn’t good enough of course, but it would be nice to say to others that I had actually had a trial with Melchester United!

I looked at my watch; it was 10.00am and time I was up. I could hear noises coming from the café downstairs; Jeff must have opened up by now. I decided to go downstairs after getting dressed. I could have a cooked breakfast and perhaps if he wasn’t too busy, tell him about my problem. Perhaps he might think of something.

I got up and went into the bathroom, reluctantly taking off my silky nightie as I went. I had a quick shower, making sure to keep my hair dry using a shower cap. Once I was dry, I went back into the bedroom and put on some nice white lacy panties. Over those I pulled up some track pants and a grey sweat shirt. Finally, I pulled my hair into a low ponytail and put on my trainers.

I quickly made the bed and reminded myself to vacuum the floor when I got back. I wanted the place to stay nice, after all!

2

I went downstairs and let myself into the café using the internal door. Coming out of the kitchen area, I saw Jeff serving someone eggs and bacon, the sight and smell made my mouth water a bit.

‘Hi, Jeff.’

He looked around and smiled.

‘Hi, yourself. Did you manage all right last night?’

‘Yes, it was great. Thanks again for letting me stay there.’

‘No problem.’

‘Can I get myself some breakfast–I’ll pay for it.’

‘You won’t, you do enough around here to warrant a few free meals. What would you like?’

‘Eggs, bacon and a slice of fried bread, please. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay?’

‘I won’t hear of it and anyway, my ears are red from Josie not making you come home for tea last night. Charging you for food here would make her go over the edge! Go and sit down, it won’t be a minute.’

I walked over to a table by the window. It was quiet at the moment with only a few people in. It would get busier later when the football crowd came in for their post match fry ups. That was the beauty of having a café so near the playing fields; it had a ready customer base.

In a few minutes I was tucking into breakfast and washing it down with some hot sweet tea. After finishing, I could see that the place was empty apart from Jeff and myself. I got up and took my crockery and stuff over to the counter.

‘Jeff, can you spare a minute?’

He stopped loading plates into the dish washer and turned round.

‘Sure,’ he said, wiping his hand on a towel, ’what’s up?’

‘After the game yesterday,’ I said as we sat at a table with cups of tea in front of us, ‘a man came up and said that he thought that I was very good.’

‘Well, so you are.’

‘I don’t know about that…’

‘Don’t keep putting yourself down, you are head and shoulders better than anyone else playing there.’

‘Well,’ I said, feeling my face go red with embarrassment. ‘Anyway, he said that he had watched me a lot and would like me to go for a trial with Melchester.’

‘Wow, what an opportunity!’

‘Yes…I thought that, well at least I did until I had a talk with mum this morning.’

I told him about the conversation I had with her.

‘I don’t think that mum will help me, what with her being so scared of dad and the fact that he wouldn’t help me if I was on fire. The man said that I needed permission from my parents to go to the trial, so it looks like I won’t be able to go.’

‘What was the man’s name?’

I fished the card he gave me out of my pocket and passed it to Jeff.

Looking closely at it, he whistled. ‘Blimey, Harry Collins is head scout for Melchester United, he used to play for the team about twenty years ago, good player too. He brought Dave Winston to the club.’

My eyes widened. Dave Winston, the darling of Melchester, player of the year last year and top scorer in the league. Mind you he’d been injured this season and the team had suffered a bit because of it.

‘So, you think it’s genuine?’

‘Looks like it. I tell you what let me have a think about it and I’ll get back to you. Are you playing today?’

‘No, I need to sort out things upstairs.’

‘Okay, I’ll speak to Josie and we’ll think of something, don’t worry. I’ll ring up to the flat once I've had a word with her. It won’t be until I close, after 3.00pm though.’

‘Okay, thanks Jeff, you’re a star.’

3

I went upstairs to the flat and sat on the sofa. Jeff and Josie were a lovely couple and their twin daughters were seriously cute. I had been baby-sitter for them many times and loved their easy relaxed lifestyle. I only wished that my home life had been as good.

Remembering the promise I made to myself about cleaning the place up, I got out the hoover and vacuumed the floor, then I did a bit of tidying up and after about half an hour the place looked nice again. Glancing out of the window, I saw a game being played across the road on the nearest pitch. It was an under eleven game and the boys were playing at a frantic pace. I could see quite a few people on the touchline shouting and making gestures. ‘Probably parents,’ I thought, remembering the amount of times my father stood at the pitch side, precisely zero.

I needed cheering up, so I changed into some girlie clothes. From my extensive (not) wardrobe I chose a knee length jeans skirt, padded bra and a white strappy top. I put on a bit of lippy, but left off putting any more makeup on because I might have to clean up and change in a hurry if Jeff wanted to see me this afternoon.

I picked up my laptop and went and sat at on the sofa. Firing up my little friend, I was soon surfing the net and looking at some of the stuff on eBay. I looked at some shoes, boots and sandals. The problem was that I really needed to try these on before I bought anything. Getting up and gazing at myself in the mirror, I looked at my reflection critically. Would I pass? As far as I could see, I just looked like an ordinary young girl, nothing special, but okay. If I slapped on a bit more makeup, would I get clocked if I went to the shops dressed as a girl?

Mind you, I still had a problem, how could I go dressed as a girl when I had no shoes to go out in? I made a decision. I would buy one pair of shoes on line; I went to the Dolcis website because they had a quick delivery service. I chose a pair of South Black Leather Pointy Shoes with a cross over effect to the front in size 7. I paid for them using my debit card and the delivery would be on Tuesday, so I had to make sure I was in. Once I got the shoes, as long as they didn’t cripple me, I would go to the shops and get some more, as Susan; clever girl, aren’t I?

I felt a bit better after that small bit of retail therapy. I made myself a sandwich for lunch and sat down to watch a teen flic on the TV. It was; Can't Hardly Wait with Ethan Embry and Lauren Ambrose. It was okay and I enjoyed it a lot, though the plot was a bit thin.

After that, I listened to several tracks on my ipod and then got a coke out of the fridge. As I was drinking it, the internal phone rang, looking at the clock, I could see that it was 3.30.

‘Hello?’ I said picking up the phone.

‘Hi Mark, can you come down and we can talk about your little problem.’

‘Erm…okay can you give me ten minutes?’

‘Okay, see you in a bit.’

‘He sounded serious,’ I thought as I washed my face and changed into my boy stuff.

4

I was soon downstairs in the café. It was closed now and I smiled as walked through the kitchen and out to the front because I could see that as well as Jeff, Josie was there with the twins asleep in their buggy .

‘Hello Josie.’

‘Mark, come here love!’

She opened her arms and I walked straight into them. For some reason I was a bit tearful. Perhaps all that had happened had come to the surface. Anyway, after a good cry, I pulled myself together and put Josie down.

‘Well Mark, I’m sorry you had a bust up with your parents,’ said Josie with concern on her face.

I didn’t say anything, just looking down at my feet.

She gently put her hand on my chin and lifted my face so that I was looking at her.

‘Don’t you dare go blaming yourself, I know you. It’s all your fault, according to your warped sense of values, even though you know that your dad caused all this mess.’

‘Josie, leave the boy alone. He can’t help the way he is.’

‘I know; sorry Mark, got a bit carried away there, but you know what I mean. I know that he’s your father, but I think that they should lock him up and throw away the key. Now let’s sit down and discuss what we are going to do.’

I liked the sound of that ‘we’, and as we sat around the table, Jeff and Josie with cups of tea and me with some ginger beer, I told Josie all that had happened in case Jeff hadn’t told her everything. Once I finished, I could see Jeff and Josie looking at each other and giving each other nods and winks.

‘What’s up?’ I said, puzzled at their expressions.

‘You say,’ said Jeff to Josie.

‘Look Mark. When Jeff told me about your problems I rang your mum. She was scared to talk to me at first, but we agreed to meet up at the tea shop on Coronation Street. Anyway to cut a long story short, she told me that she couldn’t help you because she was afraid of what your dad would do if he found out what was going on. I pleaded with her to leave your dad, but she won’t. She still loves him, God knows why and she was also worried that as he blames you for stupidly losing his job, any contact would be violent to say the least. Anyway, as you are now sort of apart from your parents, we agreed that Jeff and I would sort of look out for you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, we could be your sort of unofficial foster parents, if you want us, that is.’

I choked up and couldn’t speak for a few minutes. I may be nearly sixteen, but I was always a bit emotional, it must be my feminine side coming out.

‘Say something,’ said Jeff,’ if only to tell us to get lost.’

‘Thanks,’ I whispered. I nearly told them then - my big secret, but I chickened out of course, frightened at being rejected so soon after their wonderful offer.

‘Right,’ said a smiling Jeff, ‘that’s settled then, have you got that card from Harry Collins?’

I pulled out the card and handed it to Jeff.

He picked up his mobile and rang the number.

‘Hello, is that Harry Collins? Hello, my name is Jeff Tyler; you gave my foster son Mark, a card for us to contact you to give our permission to go to a trial….’

I listened to the conversation, it was mainly one sided, with Mr. Collins saying the most. Anyway after about five minutes Jeff said goodbye and put his phone down on the table.

‘Right, you have to be at Melchester’s training ground at 10.00 am tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift and wait until you’ve finished. It’s lucky that it’s tomorrow as I don’t open the café up Mondays. Is that all right with you?’

I nodded, as I had lost the power of speech somehow.

‘Okay,’ said the ever practical Josie getting up and going over to the twins. ‘early night for you but first you can come to ours for tea…’

5

A couple of hours later, I was back at the café, after having some wonderful home cooked fish and chips, waving Jeff goodbye as he went back home. I forgot how many times I thanked them for being there for me. In the end Jeff hit me around the head with his newspaper, swearing that if I said thank you again, he’d use a hammer next time. That started Josie having a go at Jeff for his stupid use of words, me being a sort of battered child and me laughing out loud at them both. I suppose that I loved this family almost as much as my mum, and it was so nice that they had taken me in like this.

As I slipped on my nightie and went to bed, I had a sort of tummy flip when I realized that by this time tomorrow, I would have had my trial with Melchester United and I would know whether I was any good or not. I went to sleep dreaming that I had scored a wonder goal to win the league title wearing a little black dress and diamond studded boots.

6

The next morning I woke up to the sound of my mobile going off on the bedside table. I picked it up, dropped it on the floor and then groped around until I managed to grab it again.

‘Mmm?’ I said, nearly breaking my jaw with a massive yawn.

‘This is your wakeup call, get your lazy bones out of that bed and get ready, you have forty minutes before I pick you up.’

‘Jeff, is that you?’

‘No, the tooth fairy, now wake yourself up or you’ll miss your big day.’

‘Okay … erm thanks for ringing.’

‘No problem, now shake a leg!’

He put the phone down before I could say anything else. I yawned again and then my eyes snapped open … this was the day!

All sleep left me as I jumped out of bed, took my nightie off, had a wee and then jumped in the shower, thankfully in that order. I was clean, dry, dressed, ready and waiting impatiently at the window thirty minutes later as I watched out for Jeff’s car. As soon as I saw him turn into the road, I rushed out of the flat after grabbing my gear and locking the door. By the time he had pulled up outside, I was opening the passenger door and jumping in.

‘Hi Jeff.’

‘You okay?’ he asked pulling away from the curb and doing a u turn in the road.

‘Fine.’ I said not feeling particularly fine as the butterflies started partying in my tummy.

‘You’ll be okay.’

‘I hope so…’

After about forty minutes, we arrived at the private training ground of Melchester United.

7

I had once seen a documentary about Melchester United and it included stuff about their training ground. It covered thirty acres, was completely fenced in with trees as well, to keep out prying eyes.

The site had several training pitches and one that was premiership standard. It also had a full size indoor pitch too, which looked pretty neat to me. In addition to this, the changing rooms had plunge baths, individual shower cubicles, physio equipment including couches and even vending machines. There was a treatment room that wouldn’t look out of place in a hospital, a large canteen, training rooms where tactics could be discussed and videos shown…all in all, it was an impressive place, but it was even more impressive to see it in person.

As we drove up to the gates, they opened automatically and a man in a security uniform came out to greet us.

‘Can I help you?’

Jeff showed the scouts card and said, ‘We are expected for the trial’

‘Name please?’

‘Mark Hurst’

He looked down a list on his board and nodded. ‘Right drive over to the car park and leave your car there. Then go to reception and they will help you there.’

‘Thanks,’ said Jeff as we drove on.

There were quite a few cars in the car park and it left me wondering how many people were going to be at the trial today.

We got out of the car and walked over to reception…a modern one story building attached to the main building.

8

The automatic doors whooshed open and we walked through. It was a bit like a hotel reception area, lots of polished wood, plush carpets, a huge television screen was on one wall and playing Melchester’s FA Cup win of the previous season, with the sound turned down.

Behind a long polished wood counter, were two ladies, both wearing Melchester track suits. One looked up and smiled.

‘How can I help you?’

‘Hello love, Mark Hurst, he has a trial today.’

She looked at me and smiled, ‘Hello, Mark, nice to meet you. Can you go through those swing doors on the right and go to the end door. Just go in and wait there.’

‘Thanks.’ I mumbled, rather shyly.

‘You’re welcome, Mark, and good luck!’

‘Thanks.’

We went where we were directed and as I opened the door I could see that it was a training room. There were several other people in there, parents and kids, all hovering around waiting, I supposed, for someone to tell them what to do. Most of them were much younger than me, thirteen at the most and this concerned me somewhat. I wasn’t that tall and would pass for thirteen; perhaps the scout thought that I was younger than I was.

‘This could get very embarrassing,’ I thought.

We sat over in the corner and waited for something to happen. Several other people came into the room and it was beginning.

Eventually, a man in a Melchester track suit came in with a clip board came in and called for silence.

‘Right, thanks for coming. When I call out your name, can you go through that door to my left and someone’ll be there to show you where to go. Right, Phillips … Johnson … Smith…’

The room started to empty quite quickly, I was waiting for my name to be called but it wasn’t. My heart started to sink as I began to realise that something wasn’t quite right. Soon it was just me, Jeff and the man left. He looked up and smiled.

Coming over he shook my hand and Jeff’s.

‘Sorry about that, I had to sort out the kids first. I take it that you’re Mark Hurst?’

I nodded.

‘Right, would you both like to come with me?’

We followed him out of the room and down several corridors. Eventually, we came to a door marked conference room and we were ushered in.

Sitting at a long table was Harry Collins, the scout and another man.

They both got up and smiled.

‘Hello,’ said Harry, ‘you found us okay then? You must be Jeff … nice to meet you. This is Mike Thomas, the reserve team coach…’

‘Hello, Mark … Jeff, nice to see you.’

He was quite young. I knew him of course; he was a player with Melchester up until a few years ago when he had to retire through injury.

‘Take a seat,’ said Harry, indicating some chairs to the side of the table.

We sat down and Harry spoke first.

Right Mark, I have spoken to Mike here about you and he’s aware how good I think you are. He wants to see you in action and there is a reserve practice match that he wants you to take part in today so he can have a look at your playing. Is that okay?’

I just nodded.

‘Right, do you want to say anything, Mike?’

‘Yes, thanks, Harry. Now Mark, we rely a lot on Harry’s judgement, and if he says you’re good, then that is a fact. Mind you, you could be another Dave Winston but if you don’t fit in or play well with the other players, you are as much use as a spare part, so we’ll get a good look at you when you play. All I ask is that you put your heart and soul into it. Can you do that?’

‘Yes, I’ll do my best.’

‘Good lad. Now, while your Dad here goes and finds a nice place to watch, I’ll take you to the changing rooms. You have about ten minutes to change. The other lads are out at the moment doing a bit of circuit training in the gym. We’ll meet them on the pitch … okay?’

I looked at Jeff who went a bit red as he was being called ‘dad’ and smiled a bit. I followed Mr Thomas out of the room after picking up my bag.

9

We went down a couple of corridors and into the changing room that I recognised from the video. Funny, it looked a bit smaller than I imagined, but it was still quite big. The room was empty and Mr Thomas pointed over to the corner where there was a locker a couple of hooks and a football kit folded on the bench.

‘Right, you’re playing for the Blues, today. Get dressed as quickly as you can and then come out to the pitch. You turn left outside the door and go to the end, you’ll see me there.’

With a smile, he walked out leaving me to change.

I didn’t have much time so I took off my track suit bottoms and nearly had a heart attack as I realised that without thinking I had put on some silky panties this morning! I quickly took them off, my face felt hot and I bet looked redder than Melchester’s shirts! Quickly stuffing the panties down to the bottom of my bag I blessed the fact that I had brought a spare pair of boys’ pants.

I pulled up the briefs and then put on the shorts, followed by the shirt, stockings, then my shin pads and boots. Amazed that they got my sizes right, I was finally ready. I tightened my hair band and then I was ready for action…well not really ready as the butterflies in my tummy were now doing summersaults and a war-dance but I was as ready as I ever would be.

I went out into the corridor and turned right, going several steps down the corridor until I remembered that the coach had said left. Feeling a bit of an idiot and pleased that no one was about, I turned around and made my way out of the building. I opened the door at the end of the corridor; there was a short flight of stairs and then I was at the side of the pitch.

‘Found it okay then … good. The lads are over the other side, finishing off some exercises. You need to warm up quick, so run up and down the lines after giving yourself a good stretch, okay?’

‘Yes, Mr Thomas.’

I did my warm up exercises and then ran up and down the touch line until I was thoroughly warmed up. As I was going, I gave Jeff and Harry a small wave. They were sitting on some seats slightly away from the pitch on a platform used, I think, because it had a good view of the pitch.

As I finished my warm up, other players–about twenty-five of them I would guess–came over and stood around, they were either wearing a blue or a red kit. To say I was shy, scared and intimidated would be an understatement. Nobody seemed intimidated by me, and in fact, I saw puzzled looks on some of the faces … probably thinking who the hell was this child, come to play a man’s game?
,
I jumped slightly as the Coach blew his whistle.

‘Right lads, this is Mark Hurst, he’s come to play in the practice match today. I don’t want any dirty fouls or tricks played on him … or else … get my meaning?’

There were some smiles and nods to me and I felt a bit more at ease, except I saw the expression on one of the red team players. He was built like an ox, and he just scowled at me. What had I done wrong?

We went out on the pitch and Mr Thomas was evidently going to referee the game. I had a few back slaps and welcomes from my team, which was nice.

The captain of the Blues, Pete Odinga–I recognised him from his occasional first team appearances–came over, his black face breaking into an incredibly white toothy smile as he said, ‘Hello, enjoy the game, where do you normally play?’

‘Right side attacking mid-fielder.’

‘Okay, we’d better get going then.’

I went over to the right side of the pitch and waited for kick off.

Soon the whistle blew and I knew from the outset that this was not park football that I was playing.

After ten minutes I had only touched the ball twice and both times the ball went to the opposition. I was blowing hard, much harder than my teammates who showed how fit they all were. I was feeling down and just wanted to go away and hide.

Our side were two nil down and the play was definitely going against us. I was passed the ball by the goalie and I went up field with it. I only got about ten yards when I was tackled from behind and I landed heavily. My team mates protested and started to push and shove a few of the Reds. I could hear comments like ‘bloody kid playing with men and what a Nancy,’ coming from some of the Reds. I looked up and saw that it was Ox Man that had brought me down. He had a sneer on his face, he obviously enjoyed doing it.

We were about thirty yards from the goal and a free kick had been awarded. I had a strange feeling come over me. I wasn’t going to be humiliated like this. I may not be star material, but I wasn’t going to sink without trying my damndest.

‘Pete Odinga was holding the ball and placing it for the kick. I went over to him.

‘Can I take it?’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

He shrugged his shoulders, ‘Okay, it’s all yours.’

There were four of our players in the penalty area and several red shirts. Three reds were in a wall in front of me, holding their crown jewels. One of them was the sneering Ox. I wanted to wipe that smile off his face. Now I could have hit him in the chest or face with the ball, but we needed to score some goals.

The whistle blew and I ran up to the ball, hit it hard with the inside of my foot letting it roll slightly down my foot to give it a bit of curve. The ball flew off my boot, bent around the wall and ended up in the top right hand corner of the net. No one moved, and that included the keeper. There was silence and then my team mates surrounded me.

It was a great feeling and as I walked back for the restart; Ox Face looked angry … ‘Tough,’ I thought.

From then on my nerves left me and I enjoyed the match. I was able to make a couple of goals with pin point passes and then despite some heavy attempts at tackling from several players, including Ox Face, I scored another goal. After jinking around a few players, missing a lunging tackle for Mr Ox, I rounded the keeper and tapped the ball in.

The second half was much closer and they managed to score a three goals due to sloppy defending on our part and a penalty. The score was now 5-4 in their favour, with a few minutes to go. I was given the ball in my half; I passed it to a team mate and ran through the middle, desperately trying to avoid the bodies that were trying to stop me. He gave me the ball back and I glanced up, saw my target and then hit the ball hard and low into the net, past the outstretched left hand of the keeper. The whistle then went and that was it, we had drawn the game.

With praise ringing in my ears, we left the field and went to the dressing room. Mr Thomas came up and said, ‘Well done, good game, I’ll see you when you get changed, in the conference room, okay?’

I nodded, still too breathless to talk.

As we got out of our sweaty kit, several people came over and said how well I had played. I had a quick shower and changed. I listened to some of the banter coming from the other lads and marvelled at the different accents, a couple of them only spoke a few words of English, but most were okay and understandably English. I suppose only about half the players came from the UK and that was the way of football now, even in the lower divisions.

After the shower, I quickly got dressed. The room was emptying fast and many of the lads walked over and said goodbye to me in a very friendly way. I was doing up my trainers and could see a shadow. Looking up, my heart went into my mouth as there, before me stood The Ox!

‘Nicely played Mark, a pleasure to play against you.’

He was grinning and holding out his hand. I took it, wondering if he might squeeze my hand hard or even break it, but it was a pleasantly gentle handshake.

‘I hope to see you again and if we play again I want you on my side.’

‘Erm…thanks,’ I said, smiling up at this man giant.

He slapped me on the shoulder, nearly dislocating it, picked up his bag and went out.

10

After saying goodbye to Pete and the few remaining players still in the dressing room, I picked up my bag and made my way to the conference room.

I knocked on the door and walked in.

Seated around the table were Harry Collins, Mr Thomas and Jeff. They all had smiles on their faces.

‘Ah, Mark, come in and take a seat,’ said Mr Thomas.

I sat down and waited for the verdict. Was I good enough?

‘Right, just a few things; you aren’t very fit and that showed by your lack of real pace and the fact that you were blowing hard for most of the game. When you first went on the pitch you played badly, losing the ball a couple of times and letting your team mates down.’

My heart sank down into my boots at this. I thought that I had played okay and my team mates thought so anyway. ‘Perhaps the standard is too high here,’ I thought in despair only looking up when he spoke again.

‘However, I think that you have real talent and so does the boss.’

He picked up a phone and dialled a number.

‘Hi, boss, he’s here.’

Putting the phone down, he continued.

‘With a bit of intensive training, we should be able to get up to speed in a few weeks. I think…’

The door opened and everyone looked around. I stood up as I saw the boss walk in. He was smiling as he came over and shook my hand.

Sandy McPherson was a legend. He had managed Melchester United for nearly fifteen years and had won every trophy up to and including the Champions League, he was my footballing idol, and I was dumbstruck.

‘Nice to meet you Mark, and you Jeff, too; sit down lad, we need to talk.’

I sat down and he followed taking the seat at the end.

‘Have you explained everything, Mike?’

‘No just told him his shortcomings.’

‘You would. Now listen, Mark; I know that you are not sixteen yet, but you have a real skill and talent. Harry here rarely gets it wrong and I think he hit the hammer on the nail here. I want you to join us as a reserve team player. Would you like that?’

‘Yes please!’

‘It means a lot of hard work and commitment to yourself, your team mates and to all the management team. It might take you a few years to break into the first team, but if you show that you are willing to work and that your skill continues to improve, you should be playing regular first team matches before you are eighteen. Right, I have a meeting I have to go to. Leave your address details with Harry and we’ll send you a contract to be signed by you and at least one parent. I know that you have to finish school, and you’ll be part time until then, but we’ll work something out. I suggest you get an agent, I don’t normally like the buggers, but Harry knows a few that aren’t too bent and greedy. Right I’m off. Welcome to the team, Mark.’

I stood up and mumbled my thanks as he swept out of the room.

11

The next hour or so was a bit hazy, I was in shock, not really understanding all that was going on around me. Eventually, after saying goodbye to Harry and Mr Thomas, I found myself back in Jeff’s car on the way back to the café.

Jeff didn’t say much and I think that he was almost as shocked as I was at the fast pace of the events we had experienced today.

After pulling up at the café and switching off the engine he turned to me. ‘What a day! How are you feeling now?’

‘I…I don’t know. I can’t put it in words.’

‘Happy?’

‘Very, I just think that it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up in a bit and find myself at home in bed wearing my ni…night things and dad slapping me around the face.’

It’s real enough. Do you want to come home with me and have some tea, or would you rather be by yourself?’

‘Do you mind if I just go up to the flat? I’m a bit tired, I’ll have something to eat and then relax for a while.

‘Okay, if you need me just call. I’ll sign the contract for you when it comes. If they query it, we’ll somehow get your mum to sign it. Harry should ring you tomorrow with the name of an agent. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow; come downstairs to the café and have your breakfast there.’

‘Okay,’ I said getting out of the car, ‘and thanks, Jeff. You and Josie are the greatest!’

‘No problem, see you tomorrow.’

Giving me a wave, he drove off and I let myself into the flat. Going up the stairs, my legs ached. It was obvious that I wasn’t as fit as I thought, and that I would need to up my game, exercise wise. I promised myself to get up a bit early tomorrow and go for a run and do that every morning, if I could.

I dropped my bag on the floor and went into the bedroom. Changing into a pink strappy t- shirt and short skirt took just a few moments. I brushed my hair out, went over to the fridge and took out a can of Coke. Opening it, I took a few sips and then went into the bathroom. I took the tablets out of the cabinet, opened the packet and swallowed two. I managed to get these pills from a website in the USA that helps transgendered patients who need time to decide which direction they want to take. They are puberty-blocking hormone pills that delay puberty. I didn’t want to start growing hair and have my voice break before I had the chance to decide whether I wanted to be a boy or girl for the rest of my life. How I could carry on taking the pills and have a career as a footballer, I didn’t know. I never told my mum about the pills as she would have hit the roof, and as for my dad, he would have hit me and then gone ballistic. Maybe if I had the operation, I could play for the newly- formed Melchester United’s girls team!

For now, I wouldn’t worry; just enjoy the fact that I was going to be a real live professional footballer!

To be continued...

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

‘Hello, Mum. It’s me … Mark.’

The alarm on my mobile went off, waking me from a dream that upset me somehow. I couldn’t even remember the details but it involved my mum, step father and me having a row in the middle of the pitch at Melchester in front of thousands of fans…

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 3

Previously...

I dropped my bag on the floor and went into the bedroom. Changing into a pink strappy t- shirt and short skirt took just a few moments. I brushed my hair out, went over to the fridge and took out a can of Coke. Opening it, I took a few sips and then went into the bathroom. I took the tablets out of the cabinet, opened the packet and swallowed two. I managed to get these pills from a website in the USA that helps transgendered patients who need time to decide which direction they want to take. They are puberty-blocking hormone pills that delay puberty. I didn’t want to start growing hair and have my voice break before I had the chance to decide whether I wanted to be a boy or girl for the rest of my life. How I could carry on taking the pills and have a career as a footballer, I didn’t know. I never told my mum about the pills as she would have hit the roof, and as for my dad, he would have hit me and then gone ballistic. Maybe if I had the operation, I could play for the newly- formed Melchester United’s girls team!
For now, I wouldn’t worry; just enjoy the fact that I was going to be a real live professional footballer!

And now the story continues…

The alarm on my mobile went off, waking me from a dream that upset me somehow. I couldn’t even remember the details but it involved my mum, step father and me having a row in the middle of the pitch at Melchester in front of thousands of fans…

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I picked up my ’phone and turned off the alarm. I hated that sing frog music or whatever it was called and I promised myself that I would change it.

It was 7.00 am and I was going for a run. Padding over to the window, I cracked open the curtains. At least it wasn’t raining but it looked gloomy and frosty out there. I would have to be careful not to slip over.
Quickly I washed my face, brushed my hair and scrunchied it low down so that my bobble hat would go over it. After putting on my track suit and trainers, I put on my hat and gloves, picked up my keys and yawning hugely, I let myself out of my flat.

As I shut and locked the door behind me, I shivered slightly in the cold frosty morning air. I could see the steam of my breath as I locked the door and hoped that I would warm up quickly.

I ran across the road and on the football field. As I went around the edge of the field, the frozen grass crunched under my running feet. I warmed up quickly as I got my second wind and was going quite well now, but was annoyed with myself as I hadn’t done any warm ups before starting to run. The last thing I needed was an injury now that I was going to be a professional footballer! That had a nice ring to it–professional footballer!

Without thinking, I cut across one of the slightly rutted football pitches and made my way down some side roads. Before I knew it, I was in my mum’s road. I slowed down and then stopped outside the house that I had lived in all my life. Blowing a bit hard, I imagined the inside of the house in happier times with me, my mum and my dad. Smiling, I remembered my last birthday before dad died. We had gone out for the day. First we went to the zoo and then the cinema and finally we had a meal at McDonalds. It was great and I never felt closer to my parents than that day. Then it all went wrong.

I shivered slightly, realising that I had better get moving or I would stiffen up.

I carried on with my run and eventually found myself back at the café and my flat. Letting myself in and slightly out of breath from my final sprint, I trudged upstairs and into the flat.

Looking at the clock on the wall, I had been out nearly an hour. I hoped that the extra exercise I was now doing would help counteract the effects of my pills–I hoped so. Slipping off my stinky clothes, I had a quick shower and hair wash; then I put my hair in a sort of towel turban –a trick learnt from the good old internet and a You Tube video.

I dressed quickly in a denim skirt and pink tank top and then had some toast and a cup of tea. Listening to the news, my ears pricked up as I heard Melchester United mentioned. Turning the radio up and biting on some toast I listened…

‘….United’s manager said that he wasn’t too concerned about the injury crisis yet, but any more problems would be a bit of a headache. England’s rugby team failed again…’

I switched the radio off. Of course I had heard about Melchester’s injury problems and that was one of the reasons why they hadn’t done too well this year.

I sipped my tea and wondered how things were going to turn out for me. It was going to be hard to make myself fit enough to pull my weight at the club whilst taking the puberty delaying drugs. I just hoped that I would not make a fool of myself and that I didn’t have to choose between football and my need to become a full woman.

Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was now 8.30 am and I could hear noises downstairs which meant that Jeff was in and the café was open. After cleaning my teeth, sorting out my now nearly dry hair, I regretfully changed out of my girls’ clothes into jeans and a t-shirt. Then I put my dirty washing in the machine and went downstairs.

‘Hi, Jeff,’ I called as I walked in. He gave me a wave and continued cooking at the griddle.

There were several tables in use and it looked like he could do with a hand. I put on my apron and was soon clearing tables and generally making myself useful. After the rush eased off, we had a breather and a cup of tea.

‘Things still okay upstairs?’ enquired Jeff.

‘Yes, it’s great.’

‘That’s good. Thanks for helping out.’

‘That’s all right. If things get heavy again, just give me a call upstairs. If I can, I’ll help.’

‘You’re a good boy, Mark.’

‘Get off,’ I replied feeling my face go red; I wished that I didn’t flush so easily!

Jeff laughed and just then more people came in and we had to get moving.

It wasn’t until 10.30 that I was able to go back up to the flat. My ’phone beeped; I hadn’t taken it with me when I went downstairs. Picking it up, I noticed that I had a voice mail.

Pressing the button, I listened to the message.

‘Hi, I’m John Prentiss, Harry Collins asked me to contact you. I’m an agent and might be able to help you. Can you ring me on 06784 326564? Thanks, bye.’

Putting the phone down, I quickly made a note of the number, before I could forget it. Taking a deep breath, I rang the number.

‘Hello, John Prentiss.’

‘Erm, it’s Mark Hurst, you left a message?’

‘Hi Mark, thanks for getting back to me. Harry Collins asked me to give you a call. I understand that you are signing for Melchester?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘Well, if you want me to represent you, we’ll have to meet urgently. Knowing Melchester, they will want to finalise the signing as quickly as possible, so we need to talk terms with them. Can you meet me at my office? It’s in Melchester, so no great distance. If you can make it here for 4.00pm that will give me time to talk to them and get an idea of what’s on offer.’

‘Y … yes, okay, but I’m only going to be in the reserve squad.’

‘Doesn’t matter, it means that you are just one step away from playing in the first team. I know your age, but if you are half as good as Harry says you are, I can see you knocking on the door quite quickly. So do you want me to help you?’

‘Yes please.’

Can you make it to my office by four?’

‘I’ll try,’ I replied.

He gave me the address which I noted down. I knew where it was, not far from the bus station so I knew that I could catch a bus from the end of the road and get there in plenty of time.

I went downstairs and told Jeff about my good news.

‘Right,’ he said as he took off his apron. ‘I have to go to my suppliers this morning. Then I have the lunches to do. Once they are done, I’ll be able to come with you?’

‘I didn’t mean, I mean I didn’t want …’

‘You don’t think that I could let you go on your own, do you? In any case, he would expect a parent to go, especially you being under age and everything. Right, I’ll see you later.’

He shot off, shutting the café door after him and in seconds I was on my own. I had a warm feeling in my tummy - Jeff and Josie were the nicest people I knew, apart from my mum…

That had me thinking. Perhaps I could go and see Mum. I knew that my step father spent large chunks of the day at the pub and about 11.00 o’clock would be as good a time as any to try and catch her on her own.

A few minutes later, I was going down the road towards my mum’s house, it only took about ten minutes to get there. I stopped as I turned the corner as I saw my step dad come out of the house and start to walk unsteadily down the road towards the Blind Beggar Pub at the end of the road. It looked like he had already started drinking and I wondered what he would be like by the time he rolled home.

I went up to the house and knocked on the door. Although I had a key, it felt like it was no longer my home so it didn’t feel right that I should use my key.

There was no answer, so I knocked again, but louder. I knew that she would be in, because she never went out before lunch and she was a creature of habit. I looked through the letter box, but could see nothing much in the dim light of the passageway. I was a bit worried now, so I forgot my reluctance to use my key and opened the door.

The first thing I noticed was that it was cold. Feeling the radiator I could feel that the heating wasn’t on. It was on a coin meter, perhaps it had run out or something

‘Mum!’

I could hear nothing. It was quiet and it was cold and my heart started thump as I starting thinking nasty thoughts.

‘MUM!’

Still no answer; I went into the lounge and as soon as I walked in, I could smell the sick and the beer. There was no one there but I could see the results of my step fathers drinking, in a puddle on the floor.
Looking in the kitchen - still no Mum. I went upstairs, the old floorboards creaking as they always did. It was so quiet in there and cold. The door of my bedroom was open and I walked in. The room was a mess; all my clothes were strewn around the floor and on the bed. Some of the few girls clothes that I had left were torn apart and my mirror was smashed to pieces, leaving shards of glass everywhere.

Shaking, I went out and down the short passageway to my mum’s room. Opening the door, I saw her on the bed. She was laying there, her face covered in blood, clothes torn from her bruised and battered body…

‘MUM!’ I cried as I ran over to her. I thought that she was dead, but she groaned as I touched her and drew her legs up to her body as if to try to protect herself from being hit…

I pulled out my phone and tried to dial 999 but I did it wrong as my hands were shaking so badly. I had a second go and in seconds my call was answered.

‘Please - please come, my mum - my mum has been hurt.’ I was crying and nearly lost it, but the woman at the other end calmed me a bit and I told her that Mum had been beaten up and was in a bad way. I told the lady where we were and she promised someone would be there in a few minutes. I tried to cuddle Mum, but she just groaned and flinched away from me. It was the longest few minutes of my life and I felt so hopeless.

I jumped as the phone rang - perhaps it was the ambulance.

‘H…hello.’ I gulped.’

‘Mark, is that you? What’s wrong?’

It was Josie.

‘M–m - Mum has been hurt, beaten up by him.’

‘Where are you, Love?’

‘At t–t - the house the ambulance will be here ssssoon.’

‘Stay there. I’ll be there in a few minutes.’

The phone went dead and I just sat there holding my mum’s bloody hand. She had stopped moaning and I just hoped that she was just asleep and nothing worse…’

In the distance I could hear the sirens, coming closer. I wouldn’t leave her.

Time sort of stood still and then it was as if I was in a sort of dream. Suddenly the room was full of people in uniforms. One, a lady police officer, gently prised my hand away from Mum’s and took me into my bedroom. All I could say was ‘Help Mum, please help Mum.’

I was dimly aware that she was asking me questions and I think I said that my step father did it and he was down the pub.

‘Which pub,’ she kept asking but all I could see and hear in my mind’s eye was the groaning of my mum and her bloody body. Eventually Josie was there and I fell into her arms, crying my eyes out.

Eventually I calmed down as I was told repeatedly that my mum would be okay and I was able to mumble the name of the pub my step father went to.

I was dimly aware of the sound of a siren going in the distance and Josie told me that Mum was being taken to hospital and I could go and be there for her.

How I got to the hospital, I wasn’t sure. I think I was in shock and not really aware of my surroundings.

Someone, I think it was Jeff, gave me a plastic cup with something hot in it. I sipped it and it was so hot it burned my tongue a bit. That sort of woke me up. I was sitting on a chair in a room. The room had several chairs a table and some vending machines. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to tell me that this was some sort of hospital waiting room. There were all sorts of health posters on the wall and the walls were that sort of sick green colour they use for hospitals. I looked around and saw Jeff and Josie looking at me, all concerned.

‘Are you okay?’ asked Josie, holding my hand.

‘Where are the twins?’ I asked.

‘The next door neighbour, Mrs Wilkins is looking after them. How are you, Love?’

‘Don’t know really; is–is Mum dead?’ my voice began to crack up.

‘No love. She is going to be all right. The doctor said that she would come and see us as soon as they have got her sorted out.’

Looking up, I saw that Jeff was on the phone talking quietly.

‘Can he do that?’ I wondered.

‘Do what?’ said Josie.

‘Use a mobile in a hospital.’

‘Yes they started allowing it after it was realised that the phone signals don’t muck up the equipment. Mind you, it’s only okay in certain parts of hospitals.’

I took another sip of whatever it was–I think it was tea.

Jeff got off the phone. ‘Okay Mark?’

I just nodded.

‘I’ve just spoken to the football agent, John Prentiss and explained what has happened, he wishes you well and asks if you can give him a ring when you feel up to it and he’ll see you then.’

I had completely forgotten that I was supposed to see him today–somehow, football was the least of my concerns at the moment.

We all looked up as the door opened and a woman in a white coat and a stethoscope around her neck came in. ‘Hi, Mark?’ she asked, looking at me.

I nodded, not saying anything and dreading what she was going to say.

‘Okay. Your mum is going to be fine. She has a few cracked ribs and some knocks and bruises; also we had to stitch up a gash on her head, not major, but she lost some blood. We have to keep her in overnight for observation then she can go home.’

A weight lifted off me and I could smile again–Mum was going to be okay! ‘Can I see her?’

‘Give us a few minutes and then a nurse will come in and take you to her.’ With that and a smile, the doctor left the room.

‘Thank God for that,’ exclaimed Josie.

Jeff got up and started pacing the room. ‘I hope that they put that shit in prison and throw away the key.’

‘Jeff, language!’

‘Sorry, Love.’

‘Have they caught him?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ said Jeff, ‘in the pub. They had to add resisting arrest to a lengthy list of charges. I don’t think you have to worry about him for a while.’

I was thankful for that. I’m not violent, but in his case I might make an exception.

It was about twenty minutes later that I was allowed to see Mum. She looked pale, lying there with a bandage around her head and a drip in her arm. She smiled wearily when she opened her eyes and saw me. ‘Hello, Love, sorry about all this.’

‘You’re sorry? You don’t have anything to be sorry about. ‘

She smiled. ‘Well, at least he can’t get to us where he is now.’

‘They told you then?’

‘Yes, the police came to see me; they just left. They are going to throw the book at him. He even admitted that he–he hit me.’

A tear formed in the corner of one of her eyes; I just sat by her and held her hand. ‘The doctor says that you can go home tomorrow if everything is okay.’

‘I won’t be going back there … to many memories. I’ll go and stay with Chris until the divorce and the sale of the house have gone through. I’ve got good grounds for divorce–I think.’ Chris was Mum’s sister who lived in Scotland.

‘Would you like me to come?’

‘Do you want to?’

‘I do, but…’

‘I know; you are so mature for your age. I know that things haven’t been easy for you with him and there’s your new career and everything. I think that you should try your best to do as well as you can, Love. You have a talent and I won’t deny you your chance. I will talk to Jeff and Josie and see if they can help you and keep an eye on you. But I want you to see me when you can and phone me often. You are the only good thing in my life at the moment and … and …’ Mum was crying now and so was I. I wanted to cuddle her but didn’t want to hurt her in doing so. I just held her hand and we spoke for another ten minutes or so.

‘Can I see Jeff and Josie for a minute, then you can come and say goodbye? I need my rest, I think and that nurse keeps fussing around me like a nervous broody hen.’

I smiled at that and then went for Jeff and Josie.

I sat alone in the waiting room for a few minutes, trying to digest what Mum had said to me. She was divorcing him, thank God. I was quite sad that she was going to Scotland, but knew that Auntie Chris would look after her and that was what she needed now. How I would cope without her, I didn’t know, but I would have to try. The only good thing about this mess was that we would have that man out of our hair at last and we could all start living again.

The door of the waiting room opened and a lady police officer walked in followed by a man in a suit.

‘Hello,’ said the man, are you Mark Hurst?’

I nodded.

‘I’m Inspector Morse–and no jokes about the name please; this is Police Constable Smart, can we have a word if you feel up to it?’

‘Okay,’ I replied as they sat down opposite me.

‘Right, just a few things: can you tell us what happened when you went home and found your mum?’

I explained all that had happened and the lady-policeman took notes as I spoke. He then asked me some questions about my step father and whether he had hurt Mum and me before. I was able to tell them about the many occasions that he got drunk and hit us. I got a bit upset about that and the lady-policeman gave me some tissues. I was finding that I could cry quite easily now and I put it down to my pills…that was my excuse and anyway, girls do cry sometimes.

After I had finished, the policeman stood up and said, ‘Thanks, Mark, I know that was hard. You don’t have to worry about your step father; he won’t be doing you or your mum any harm for a long time. You may not know this, but he’s been in trouble several times, probably before you knew him. Anyway, if we need anything further from you, we’ll contact you, okay?’

‘Yes, fine thanks.’

‘That’s all right. I’ll give you my card. If you or your Mum needs to know anything just ring me.’ With that, they left me alone again.

So, he had been in trouble before? That was no surprise. I just hoped that neither Mum nor I would see him ever again.

Jeff and Josie came in and I went to say goodbye to Mum. I hugged her gently as we said our goodbyes and I promised to be there when Jeff picked her up the following morning, all being well.

As I was driven home, I stayed quiet. This was another day where things had happened that would shape my future. I hoped that I might have a few days where I could be myself again, but wasn’t banking on it!

We pulled up outside Jeff and Josie’s house. ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I thought I was going home to the café.’

Josie turned around in her seat and looked at me. ‘You don’t want to be alone tonight, do you? You’ve had a shock and anyway, we have to talk about things. Come in for some lunch and we’ll talk things over, okay?’

‘Okay and thanks for being there for me, you two are the best!’ They both went red in the face but smiled anyway!

Half an hour later, we sat around the kitchen table eating some spag bol that Josie miraculously prepared in double quick time. The twins had been dropped off by the neighbour and were currently asleep in their room.

‘So,’ said Jeff,’ what are we going to do about things? Your Mum is going up to stay with Chris for a while, and to be honest, I don’t think she’s up to looking after anyone else at the moment. She needs peace and quiet and where Pam lives, that is what she’ll get. But that leaves you, Mark. What are we going to do with you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, it’s difficult. Maybe we should contact social services; perhaps they could find you a foster home. We would love for you to stay here but there’s no room and …’

‘But … I have a home …’

‘Yes, but your Mum doesn’t think you should go back there … you’ve had too many nasty things happen to you there and anyway, she is going to sell up. Thank goodness the house is in her name and not that slime ball.’

‘Jeff,’ said Josie.

‘Yes hon?’

‘Can you belt up and let Mark say what he wants to do?’

‘Sorry, got a bit carried away there. Mark, what do you want to do?’

Looking at them both, I could see where they were coming from and why they and Mum were so concerned about me. But I was nearly sixteen and I wanted to make a go of things for myself and not be too reliant on other people, however well meaning they might be.

‘Jeff, Josie, can - erm can I stay at the flat? I know that I’m young and everything, but I’m happy there. I feel safe and secure and it’s nice to have some independence …’ I sort of trailed off as I saw their faces–full of doubt.

Jeff spoke up first. ‘I don’t know, Mark. You have been through a lot. You need people around you…’

‘You will be nearby and I could always call you or Josie if I need help and I promise if it doesn’t work out, I’ll tell you and we’ll do something else, please let me!’

Jeff looked at Josie and Josie looked at Jeff. They did that weird nodding, winking and other stuff they do and then Josie spoke up. ‘Okay, if you insist, but you need to touch base with one of us every day and if you want anything…anything at all, let us know–promise?’

‘Yes I will–promise; thanks for being understanding and everything,’

‘That’s okay,’ replied Jeff., ‘Now what are you going to do about the football agent, he said that you really need to move quickly on this?’

‘Well, we’re picking up Mum tomorrow, aren’t we?’

‘Yes, she should be let out at about ten tomorrow morning. Josie is going to the house early on to pick up some clothes and stuff for her. She doesn’t want to go back there. Then we’ll take her to the station and get her on a train.’

‘What about the café?’

‘Already sorted, Bill Withers is going to look after it tomorrow. He owes me one.’

Bill Withers was Jeff’s best friend, and they used to sing in a small country group–many years ago.

‘Okay, can we go to see the agent tomorrow afternoon?’

‘That should be okay. I’ll ring him for you, if you like?’

‘Yes, please.’

We finished our spag bol and it was lovely. The choc chip ice cream was nice too! Jeff spoke to John Prentiss who agreed to meet us the next day at four and after that, I asked if I could have a lift back to my flat.

‘Are you sure that you don’t want to stay here tonight? You’ve been through a lot today,’ asked Josie, all concerned.

‘I’ll be all right; I just want to go and have a quiet night. I love it at the flat and you don’t really have the room here, anyway.’

‘You could sleep on the couch,’ Jeff suggested.

‘Thanks, but I need a good sleep and I’ve lots to do tomorrow.’

Half an hour later, I was dropped off at the café. Jeff and Josie said goodbye after a kiss and cuddle from Josie and a manly handshake from Jeff who promised to pick me up at ten.

Watching them go, a bit regretfully as they were sort of surrogate parents to me and I loved them dearly; I let myself into my flat. I quickly changed into something nice, a short black skirt and white smock top, then I did my hair and put on a bit of makeup. At last I was Susan again and I felt much more comfortable.

I sat down on the sofa and sighed with relief. Today was a day I was going to remember for the rest of my life and I hoped that the future was going to be a little bit better and less traumatic.

To be continued...

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

The singing frog alarm on my mobile phone went off–much as I hated that tune, it did give me the incentive to switch the damn thing off!

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 4

Previously...

Half an hour later, I was dropped off outside the café. Josie and Jeff said goodbye, after a kiss and cuddle from Josie and a manly handshake from Jeff who promised to pick me up at ten.

I watched them go–a bit regretfully because they were sort of surrogate parents to me and I loved them dearly; I let myself into my flat. I changed quickly into something nice, a short black skirt and white smock top, then I did my hair and put on a bit of makeup. At last I was Susan again and I felt much more comfortable.

I sat down on the sofa and sighed with relief. Today was a day I was going to remember for the rest of my life and I hoped that the future would be somewhat better and less traumatic.

And now the story continues…

The singing frog alarm on my mobile phone went off–much as I hated that tune, it did give me the incentive to switch the damn thing off! Lifting my head from the pillow I grabbed the phone, pressed a button and all was quiet again. I yawned and looked blearily at the time–7.30, and I had to get up as I wanted to have a run before Jeff came to pick me up to go to the hospital.

Reluctantly, I got out of my warm bed; it was slightly chilly as the central heating hadn’t kicked in properly. Padding to the bathroom, I hitched up my silky nightie and sat down for a quick wee. After doing the necessary, I got myself going. I was feeling a bit stiff and made a mental note to have a good stretch before going out for my run.

Twenty minutes later, I was out running on the hard footpath by the side of the Melchester Ship Canal–not that there were many ships using it now. It was more likely that you would see a pleasure boat than a ship nowadays. I got my second wind after about fifteen minutes and began to run with a bit more relaxation. This gave me time to look back at all that had happened in the past week.

I had been chucked out by my soon to be ex-step dad, moved into a great flat over the café. Then there was the thing with Melchester and the wonderful future that I could have, if I was good enough. Then there was mum–she had been through so much at the hands of that slime ball. I hoped that they would chuck him in prison and throw away the key…

I waved hello to a man with a Labrador as I passed them. Not many people around this morning; too cold really for anyone as nutty as me and the man with the dog!

I continued my thoughts as I upped the pace a bit, going over the small footbridge and coming down the other side. I liked the canal, lots of trees lining it and not many people about. I saw some ducks on the water and thought, ‘They must be cold in this weather.’
The cold and frosty air made my breath come out in clouds of steam as I pounded along the footpath; who said that the winter was depressing? I was about two miles from home now and heading back. I had a warm glow in me as I looked forward to getting back to the flat. I loved it so much, even though I had only been there a few days. It gave me the freedom to be Susan whenever I liked. I could live as a girl and not have anyone have a go at me for being myself. Looking at my watch, I could see that I would have to get a move on as we were meeting mum at the hospital at ten…

As soon as I was home, I had a quick shower and changed into something reasonably decent, as I was going to see mum off and then Jeff and I were going to meet Mr Prentiss.

I had some toast and a cup of tea and then I saw Jeff pull up outside the café. I grabbed my coat and was downstairs just as he got out of the car. He smiled and waved.

‘Hi mate, you ready?’

‘Yes, thanks for taking me today.’

‘No problem. Josie can’t come as one of the twins has a cold, but she sends her love.’

I got in the car and soon we were heading for the hospital.

‘So, did you sleep okay last night?’

‘Yes, like a log.’

‘We didn’t really want you to be alone last night, but I know how stubborn you can be,’

‘Sorry.’

‘Nothing to be sorry about, you are almost a man now and you have a lot of decisions to make. I just want you to know that Josie and I are there for you. Remember, if it gets too much for you, tell us. Your mum wasn’t happy about your living on your own but I understand how you want to do things for yourself and we persuaded her that you’ll okay and if you needed anything, we’ll be there for you.’

‘Thanks Jeff,’ I said, my voice cracking a bit for some reason.

‘That’s all right. Now, we’ll be at the hospital in a minute, so let’s have a happy face for your mum shall we?’

As we walked into the side ward, I saw mum sitting on her bed. She looked up as we entered and smiled. She looked pale and battered. I hope so much that my step dad gets what’s coming to him.

‘Hi,’ said mum with a tired smile.

I went to her and gave her a careful hug, because I didn’t want to hurt her.

‘How are you feeling Trish?’ Jeff asked.

‘I’ll live.’

‘Well you look a bit better than yesterday, anyway. Josie went to your house last night and picked up the stuff you wanted. There are a couple of suitcases in the car. Are you okay to go now?’

‘Yes, let’s get out of here; hospitals give me the creeps.’ she replied as a nurse came in.

‘Okay, Mrs Hurst, I have some papers here for you to give to your doctor,’ the nurse explained. ‘Also some tablets that you should take until the pain goes away. You need to see your doctor in three days so that he can give you the once over. If anything happens before that though, give us a call.’

‘Thank you, nurse.’

‘That’s all right; just look after yourself.’ With that she smiled and rushed off somewhere, leaving us to get mum downstairs and into the car. She insisted that she didn’t want a wheelchair, so we just took it steadily and eventually we settled her in the car. I could see though, that the short journey to the car had tired her out.

‘Mum, do you want to come and stay with me for a while in the flat?’

‘Thanks, Mark, but my sister’s expecting me and she’ll look after me. Once I’m in the train, I’ll be fine and she’s meeting me at the other end anyway, so there’s nothing to worry about.’

Seeing how pale she was and the fact that she was battered and bruised didn’t make me feel that I had nothing to worry about. The only thing that pleased me was that she at last appeared to be making decisions for herself and not relying on that scumbag of a husband.

As we drove along, nobody was talking. I knew that if I said much I might start to cry. Jeff was busy driving and mum was just looking out of the windows, thinking about God knows what.

Arriving at the station, we were lucky enough to park fairly close to the entrance. Jeff got out and took mum’s cases from the boot and then we both helped mum into the station. She wasn’t too bad on her feet, but I could see that she really didn’t want to walk much further. We went into the waiting room where the information board said that her train was on time and should be arriving in about ten minutes. Jeff went to get some tea, leaving me and mum alone in the warm and rather stuffy waiting room.

She turned to me and smiled–making her seem years younger, even after all she had been through.

‘Mark, love. I haven’t got long and I think that Jeff has left us alone so that we can have a quiet word together. I’m sorry things didn’t work out between your step dad and me. I thought he loved me and they say love conquers all. That’s a laugh. It was only after this last beating that I finally came to my senses. I’m sorry I put you through all this, you deserve better. That’s why I want you to do all you can to make a success out of your life. I don’t think I have been a very good mum up to now and hope that we can put all this behind us…’

‘But, mum, it wasn’t your fault!’

‘Well I think it was. Anyway, enough of that; I shall be staying with my sister for some time. I spoke to her last night and she’s very happy for me to live with her and I’ll be there for the foreseeable future. I need to recharge my batteries and this will help me a lot. That leaves the problem about what to do for you. No, don’t say anything I need to get this off my chest. I know you want to be a girl. I thought that it was just a phase that you were going through, but it’s not is it?’

I just shook my head; I was too choked up to say anything. She held my hand and continued.

‘When I spoke to Jeff and Josie about you in the hospital last night, I told them that you had a secret and I told them what that secret was. I had to, they are going to be looking after you in a fashion, and they needed to know that you had issues. I couldn’t go away and leave you to cope without any support. I just wish that I could have been more help to you. Anyway, they couldn’t believe it at first, but after I told them about the way you’ve been since you were small and that fact that you were far happier as a girl than a boy, they realised that you had special problems. They want to talk to you about it but won’t say anything unless you bring it up. You don’t need to worry about what they feel about you, they love you anyway. In some ways they would have made much better parents than me…’

‘Don’t say that, mum. I love you more than anyone and you’ve done so much for me…’

‘Not enough, Mark, or should I really call you Susan?’

‘Mark, when I’m dressed as a boy. Look mum don’t bash yourself up over all this. It’s my fault that I’m a girl trapped in a boy’s body and it’s slime-face’s fault for being a rotten husband and father.’

‘Well anyway, the train’s going to be here in a minute; look after yourself and ring me as much as possible. Jeff and Josie will be there for you, remember that. If you have any worries about staying in that flat, talk to them. I hope your football career works out for you. Although how you are going to be a professional footballer and a girl at the same time, I don’t know. You do know that you may have to choose one or the other, don’t you?’

‘I know, mum. I’m taking just one step at a time and see how I go–perhaps I’ll be the first girl to play in the Premier League…’

‘The train now approaching platform one is the eleven twenty to Aberdeen stopping at…’

I looked at mum and she looked at me. Both of us had tears in our eyes. This was it. I had lost my dad and now,–temporarily at least–I was going to lose my mum. She opened her arms and we hugged each other tightly. We were both too choked up to say anything more than how much we loved and would miss each other. A few seconds later we parted as Jeff came in and picked up the cases. We helped mum get on the train and with a final heart rending hug, she was gone. I was being hugged by Jeff and crying my eyes out as the train–and my mum–pulled out of the station…

2

Eventually, I pulled myself together and after a cup of tea and a bun in the station tea room, we were in the car again.

I was a bit quiet on the way home; still upset by my mum going and what she said to me about Jeff and Josie knowing my big secret. Several times I was going to say something, but bottled out for some reason.

Jeff tried to cheer me up by telling me about the Twins latest antics, though what kids of that age can do except say ‘ga ga’, drink milk, poo and stuff like that, I didn’t know. To be honest, I was on another planet and not paying much attention. Before I knew it, we had pulled up outside the café.

‘Right Mark, I’ll pick you up at two thirty and we’ll go into town, have a snack or something and then go see the agent–okay?’

‘Yeah, thanks for taking me today.’

‘No problem. Will you be all right by yourself for a while?’

‘Mmm, I’ll be fine, see you later.’

I watched him go off home and then let myself in the flat. I grabbed a coke from the fridge and decided to chill out, if possible. Sitting on the sofa, I switched the TV on and after some boring news, there was an item about Melchester United.

‘There have been reports that the Brazilian, Dodo has been lined up to join the club for an undisclosed fee. The increasing injury list, means that Melchester have real problems picking a decent side to face Champions League opponents Dynamo Slabovnia next week. Dodo, who has been out of contract with New City Rovers and is not cup tied, looks as if he is keen to join, but needs to have the offer of a contract finalised before he decides whether he wants to join…now other news…’

I switched off the TV and went to wash my face as my eyes still looked a bit red from crying. I brushed my hair and put it in low ponytail. Looking at my watch, I had about half an hour before Jeff came to pick me up. I sat on the sofa and must have fallen asleep as I woke up with a jerk at the sound of the doorbell ringing. Checking my watch, I saw it was nearly half past two! Yawning, I grabbed my coat and keys and rushed downstairs.

‘Hi Mark,’ Jeff said as I opened the door. I just yawned again and mumbled something.

‘Been asleep? Well not surprising really with everything that’s been happening. Come on, let’s go and have a bite to eat and then see Mr Prentiss, shall we?’

‘Okay, sorry, I just dropped off, I don’t normally do that.’

We got in the car and drove off. Twenty minutes later, we were in the city centre. Melchester had a huge shopping area and lots of places to eat. Jeff parked his car in a multi-story and we went to a Subway–for a sub, what else!

We found a relatively quiet corner and sat down. Jeff had a coffee and I had a coke. We munched at our food and sipped at our drinks as we watched the world go by outside the window. I was quite full up after the sub and didn’t want anything else; neither did Jeff. I had a funny feeling in my tummy as I realised that I needed to say something about what my mum had told Jeff and Josie. I finally plucked up the courage to speak. ‘Jeff–erm; mum told you something about me yesterday…’

He looked at me and smiled. ‘Is that why you’re a bit quiet?

I nodded; heart in my mouth. I didn’t know what to say now that it had come to it.

‘Look, don’t worry we’ll have a chat tonight. Josie and I will come over to the flat and we can sort things through.’

‘What about the twins?’

‘Josie’s mum is going to babysit Daisy and Poppy for a while, you know how she dotes over those kids. Poppy’s cold is a lot better, so that’s one worry out of the way.’

Somehow I felt a bit better about things. Jeff didn’t look disgustedly at me like my step dad did–maybe things might not be too bad, after all?

‘Shall we go?’

I nodded, so we got up, put our coats on and left the snack bar.

I had Mr Prentiss’s address written on a piece of paper and knew roughly where his office was, as I had Google mapped it. Fifteen minutes walk away from the shopping centre brought us to the business area. Lots of tall glass covered buildings and people going too and fro into and out of offices. We came to a large office block with tinted glass windows and a large rather grand entrance. We had found the right place.

The automatic doors swished open as we approached. Inside it was even more impressive than outside. The lobby was half the size of a football pitch and the huge desk over the far side was the width of goal posts. I felt a bit intimidated by all this but Jeff didn’t bat an eyelid as we walked up to the reception desk and asked one of the uniformed ladies behind it for directions to Mr Prentiss’s office.

‘Go to the lifts over there on the right and go to the twenty-first floor. Mr Prentiss’s secretary will meet you there.’

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she said, picking up a phone.

My tummy was left a bit behind as we whooshed rapidly up to the twenty-first floor. Almost before I realised it, the doors pinged open and there was a lady wearing a ladies’ pinstriped business suit and a big smile, standing there waiting for us.

‘Hello, I’m Jane,’ she said. She shook hands with both of us and then led us across the hardwood floor to a door over on the left. She knocked and we heard a ‘come in’ from behind it.

Jane opened the heavy-looking polished wood door and we were ushered into a large, pleasant office with plush red carpets, easy chairs, a large expensive looking desk and a man who got up from a huge deep leather office chair and came to greet us.

John Prentiss looked about thirty; he was tall, slim with brown hair and a pleasant, open smile. I liked him as soon as I saw him.

‘Jeff, Mark, nice to see you both.’ He shook our hands and motioned us to sit on some chairs.

‘Jane, can we have some drinks please?’

‘Certainly; what would you like?’

As she went out to get my coke and two coffees, John got down to business.

‘Right Mark, first off, how is your mum?’

‘She’ll be okay, she’s gone to stay with my aunt in Scotland.’

‘So you are being looked after by Jeff?’

‘Erm–that’s right.’

‘Okay, let’s have a chat about things. Stop me if you don’t understand anything. I’ve had a draft of the contract faxed through to me and having seen it, it’s one of the standard ones approved by the FA, League and Players Association so there are no surprises there. But as you are new to this, I’ll explain what they are offering. Is that okay with both of you?’

We both nodded and just then, Jane brought in the drinks. After everything was sorted out, Mr Prentiss continued.

‘Right, it’s a three year contract for you to be in the reserve team squad. There’s no guarantee that you will play in the team, just that you are a squad member–this is normal. The contract is reviewed each year and depending on where you are with the club, terms are amended. This means that if you do better you get paid more; if you don’t you stay on the same money. To be honest though, if you haven’t made something of yourself in the first year you will probably be transferred anyway, it’s a tough business. Mind you, I have seen the video of the game you played the other day and I can’t see you do anything other than go to the top and make a big name for yourself.’

‘I didn’t know I was being filmed?’

‘It’s normal practice as it helps with training. Right, now to the important bits. Firstly, you will have to have a medical by the club doctor and then…’

‘Medical!’ I exclaimed. I didn’t like the sound of that.

‘Yes, all clubs insist on a medical; firstly to see that you are fit and well and secondly, it’s a requirement for insurance purposes. It’s mainly to see that you have no injuries or other problems that may affect your career. Mind you, you look very fit, if a bit small, but your age will be taken into account and the fact that you are still growing. Does that answer your question?’

‘Er–yes thanks,’

I hoped that I would get through the medical okay and was thinking about that when I realised that Mr Prentiss was talking again.

‘…you will get a signing on fee of twenty thousand pounds, payable immediately on signing to–‘

‘How much?’ exclaimed Jeff; my jaw just dropped.

Looking at our faces, he just laughed.

‘Yes, I was surprised at that. It seems that a few other clubs were showing a tentative interest in you. Football’s a small world and if a talent shows up, everyone wants him. This signing-on fee ensures that you’re tied in with the club as quickly as possible. I only know of three other players of a similar age to you who got a signing on fee like this. Anyway, you haven’t heard anything yet. You will have a basic wage of thirty thousand a year. You will get this even if you play no games. It’s just the starting point. For every game you play in the reserves, you will be paid two thousand pounds. If you win the match, there will be another one thousand pounds win bonus paid. You get nothing extra for a draw or a loss. There are other bonuses paid depending on how far up the reserve league you go. There are also other bonuses payable if you win the league or cup. Any questions?’

Jeff and I looked at each other, not believing the ridiculous sums being mentioned.

‘I can see that you are shocked, but bear in mind that wages in the football league are very high and twenty thousand a week is considered quite low. Top player get paid over one hundred thousand a week. That puts the figures I’ve given you a bit of perspective. Reserve squad players are potentially one step away from the big time and it’s very important for clubs to have a strong depth in the squad in case of injury to top players. In addition to this, all clubs think of players as assets that can be sold in the market. Melchester has made millions of pounds from selling players in the market and they, like many teams want to look after their assets. It’s not just about football nowadays; it’s about the balance sheet and keeping investors happy. Is all this clear and do you have any questions?

I think I was in shock and I could see that Jeff was finding it hard to come to terms with all this money. Jeff pulled himself together and looked at me.

‘Do you want to do this?’

I nodded slowly.

‘If the club thinks I’m worth it–I’d like to give it a try.’

‘That’s good,’ said Mr Prentiss. ‘I don’t want to get too detailed, but another thing is that if you play for the first team, you go up to another all together different level, but you won’t have to worry about that for a while, that’s why I’m here, looking after your interests. Now, I have a couple of things for you to sign and if you could too, Jeff. It’s just the agreement for me to be your agent. I get ten percent of everything you earn which might sound a lot because I take over your business interests and sell you to sponsors. So you get all that back and more quite quickly with sponsorship deals and things like that. Many companies like to associate with the club and even reserve team players get some goodies. My job is to help you get as much out of the system as possible.’

In a daze, I signed on the dotted line and Jeff as well as he was my ‘foster parent’.

‘Right, if you are available, your medical is tomorrow at the training ground at eleven a.m.’

‘What will they do?’ I asked.

‘I’ve got a list here.’ He passed it over to me.

I looked down at the things they were going to do.

Examination by Club Doctor
Blood and urine tests
Completion of Medical Questionnaire
Completion of Attendee Medical History Questionnaire by Parents/Guardian
Electro-Cardiograph x 1  
Echo-Cardiogram Assessment x 1
Consultant Cardiologist Report
Orthopaedic Screening

I sort of expected that a medical might be required and I think that I was okay medically. I had looked on the internet and emailed a few questions about hormone-blocking medication to a transgender forum I belong to and a few of the girls there had had medicals without too many problems. I could only wait and hope that it wouldn’t be a problem with me.

‘Right,’ said Mr Prentiss. ‘I have another meeting in about ten minutes. Have you any further questions?’

I shook my head and so did Jeff. We were still trying to take in all he had told us.

‘Well, if you need any help or advice give me a call. If I’m not available, leave a message. I’ll speak to you tomorrow anyway so if you can think of anything that you aren’t too sure about, we’ll speak then. Goodbye Mark, Jeff. I think that we will have a long and rewarding association.’

He shook our hands and walked us over to the lift. With a final goodbye, we soon found ourselves in the street.

A short while later we were in the car on the way home. Once again we were both a bit quiet. Then Jeff began to laugh. In seconds I was laughing too and we had to pull over to the side of the road to avoid an accident.

‘Bloody hell, Mark, you have well and truly landed on your feet,’ gasped Jeff, tears running down his face.

‘I–I can’t believe it. All that money for me to play the game I love!’ I said wiping my eyes and gradually calming down again.

‘Well good luck to you. You have the talent and you deserve some good things happening to you for a change.’

Jeff started the car again and we were soon back at the café.

‘I’ll go by bus tomorrow,’ I said.

‘No you won’t; this is important and as your ‘foster dad’ it’s my job to look after you. I’ll get my mate to look after the café. I do enough favours for him so he’ll be okay and anyway, I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. Now I’m going home to see Josie and the sprogs. We’ll come back about seven and have that little chat–okay?’

In all the excitement, I had forgotten about that, but Jeff’s words brought it all rushing back. He must have seen I was a bit upset.

‘Look, don’t worry; we won’t bite your leg off. See you a bit later.’

With that he drove off. I let myself in the flat and went upstairs.

I made myself a cup of tea and sat down to read a girlie mag that I had found in the café a while back and had smuggled out in a carrier bag. All the girls in the magazine were young thin and beautiful. I wished I was. I muddled through looking okay when I was dressed, but no way would you call me beautiful. I had a look at the letters page. It was mainly young girls with love problems or not happy with some part of their body or that their parents didn’t understand them. I could relate to two out of the three, love not being a thing that interested me at the moment. I wasn’t even sure of my sexuality so I would leave that until I started to get those sort of feelings.

After reading the magazine, I started to look at the papers that Mr Prentiss had given me. It was all a bit over my head–all that legal jargon–so I gave it up as a bad job and watched an Australian soap for a while. Truth is, I was very worried about what Jeff and Josie would say to me. I hadn’t had much in the way of positives regarding my gender problems and the rows and arguments with my step dad gave me a certain lack of confidence. I didn’t know what I would do if Jeff and Josie rejected me.
I went to the bathroom and had a wash. Then I put on a clean t-shirt and jeans. I wanted to show that I could look after myself okay, so I had a bit of a tidy up, hoovered the floor and did some dusting. When I had finished, the place looked really nice and I felt very lucky that I was able to live there.

My mobile phone rang. ‘Hello?’

‘Hello, Mark, it’s mum. Just thought I’d ring to say I’ve arrived safely and am at your auntie’s house.’

‘That’s great, mum. How are you feeling?’

‘Tired, but okay. I slept most of the way and my sister was waiting for me at the station. She sends her love.’

‘Tell her the same from me. Will you be all right there?’

‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. How did you get on with Mr Prentiss?’

‘Great, I’m going to be paid loads of money. The only thing I’m worried about is the medical.’

‘You shouldn’t worry; you’re as fit as a flea.’

‘I know, but you know me…’

‘Yes, a born worry-guts. Look I’d better go now. I’ll try to speak to you tomorrow, okay?’

‘Okay, mum; love you.’

‘You too, honey; ’bye.’

‘Bye.’

I put the phone down. I had a lump in my throat. I missed my mum already and hoped that I could see her soon. Perhaps, as I was going to get all this money I might be able to visit her soon.

I glanced at my watch. Half past six. I thought that I ought to have something to eat as it might stop the sickly feeling I had in my tummy.

I made myself a jam sandwich, then sat down and waited for Jeff and Josie to come. The TV was on and it was the local news, but I didn’t pay much attention to it as I was constantly clock watching and noticing that the minute hand didn’t seem to be moving much.

The doorbell rang, making me jump slightly. Looking at my watch I saw that it was just before seven. I stood up and went downstairs to let them in.

‘Hello, Mark,’ said Josie. Jeff was standing behind and just smiled.

‘Well, are you going to let us in or are we going to just freeze to death out here?’

‘Sorry,’ I said, standing to the side to let them in. As I followed them upstairs I imagined all sorts of negative things.

Once we were all inside, I took their coats and put them on my bed. When I came out I asked if they wanted a drink.

‘Tea, please.’

‘Me too.’

I made the drinks as Josie chatted away. Jeff just sat down and was looking at the girly mag that I had carelessly left on the coffee table.

‘Well Mark, you have made the place look very nice,’ said Josie as she took her and Jeff’s cups into the lounge. I took a can of coke out of the fridge and followed her in.

‘I just try to keep it tidy. Jeff and you made it really.’

‘You always were a tidy boy…’ she said sitting next to Jeff. I sat down in the arm chair. I had hopes that I might get swallowed up by it, but not much luck there!

Jeff put the magazine down and sipped his tea. There was a silence and I couldn’t stand it. If they were going to shout and holler at me, I wished that they would go and do it. Anything was better than this awful silence.

Josie looked at me, then Jeff.

‘Jeff, do you want to leave this to me?’

‘Well it’s sort of your department.’

‘What do you mean my department?’

‘You know, emotional stuff; like in that magazine. Anyway, you’re better with words than I am. I’d say something wrong and put my foot in it.’

Josie looked at me again. For some reason my eyes began to water and I could feel a tear go down my cheek.

Josie got up straight away and came over to me. Looking back at Jeff she said. ‘Jeff go to the pub for an hour and then come back.’

‘What? Pub? Me?–oh, okay.’

He got up hurriedly, sort of smiled apologetically and left in a hurry.

Josie held out her hand and I got up and sat with her on the sofa.

‘Right,’ she said giving me a tissue, ‘tell me all about it and don’t leave anything out. I know a bit about this. We’ve known for years that you have liked dressing. Your mum and I have spoken a lot about it. Just tell me what it’s all about, okay?’

It was a revelation that Josie knew about my dressing and I supposed that it meant that Jeff did too.

‘I–it started when I was very young…’

I told her about dressing as a young boy and how I felt that I was really a girl inside. I explained that I just didn’t feel right as a boy and was only happy being a girl. I probably didn’t put it too well, but I think she got the gist of it.

‘So now I live here, I can dress how I like and no one can hurt me–that’s why I love living here, I can be myself–a girl. Are you angry with me?’

‘Why do you ask that?’

‘I thought that you might think I was weird or a pervert or something–like my step dad did.’

‘No you’re not anything of the kind. Get this into your head, both Jeff and I love you like you are our own. We know that you have a very sweet nature, although I wouldn’t say that when you’re on the football field, where you can be as hard as anyone. Jeff and I accept you for who you are not what you are. I put that badly. We don’t care if you dress as a girl or are gay or anything else. We like you as sweet loving person and that’s good enough for us. Can you do me a favour?’

‘What?’

‘Go and get dressed as Susan and let me see you as you see yourself.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, go on; go make yourself look pretty; take as long as you like.’

I smiled weakly and got up.

I went to the bedroom and closed the door behind me.

A bit shakily, I went to my wardrobe and picked out my favourite dress–the LBD that I hadn’t even worn properly yet–though I had tried it on when it arrived by post.

Taking off my t-shirt and jeans, I started dressing. I already had some panties on, so I quickly put on my padded bra and nude sheer tights. Then I went to the dressing table and sat down. I put on some makeup, not too much, just a bit of foundation and blusher, light brown eye shadow and eye liner; a light application of mascara to plump up my nice lashes and finally some pink gloss lippy. I wasn’t going to bother with nail varnish but changed my mind at the last minute, applying the pink varnish as quickly as possible and blowing my fingers dry.

I pulled up my dress and with a bit of difficulty just managed to pull the zip up my back. Smoothing the dress down, I loved the huggy sort of feeling it gave me. Finally, I placed my small gold cross necklace around my neck and gold bracelet on my wrist. I had bought them a few years before and had never worn them–until now.

Finally I picked up my brush and pulled it through my hair, brushing it until it shone and then parting it neatly in the middle.

I regretted that I didn’t have any shoes yet and remembered that some were arriving the next morning by post. I thought that I must remember to stay in for that–if I can get through this evening, that is!

I crossed to the mirror and liked what I saw. I just hoped that Josie would too.

I went to the bedroom door, took a deep breath and opened it.

To be continued...

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

I walked through. Josie was sitting on the sofa glancing through the girlie magazine I had left there. She looked up and, at the sight of me, dropped the magazine on her lap. She was frowning and her mouth was open...

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 5

Previously...

I pulled up my dress and with a bit of difficulty just managed to pull the zip up my back. Smoothing the dress down, I realized how much I loved the huggy sort of feeling it gave me. Finally, I placed my small gold cross necklace around my neck and gold bracelet on my wrist. I had bought them a few years before and had never worn them–until now.

Finally I picked up my brush and pulled it through my hair, brushing it until it shone and then parting it neatly in the middle.

I regretted that I had no shoes yet but remembered that some were arriving by post the next morning. I thought that I must remember to stay in for that–if I can get through this evening, that is!

I crossed to the mirror and liked what I saw. I just hoped that Josie would too.

I went to the bedroom door, took a deep breath and opened it.

And now the story continues…

1

I walked through. Josie was sitting on the sofa glancing through the girlie magazine I had left there. She looked up and, at the sight of me, dropped the magazine on her lap. She was frowning and her mouth was open. For some reason my eyes locked on her mouth, instantly thinking what a nice shade of pink lipstick. Then my heart started thumping even harder. Would she laugh? Did I look so bad that words wouldn’t express just how silly I looked?

‘I look silly; tell me, I can take it.’

Josie just looked at me and stood up, the magazine falling off her lap unnoticed. She appeared to be upset for some reason; did I look that bad? At least she wasn’t laughing–maybe she pitied me. What would Jeff say? Would he laugh and tell me to be a man? All these thoughts went through me in seconds as I stood there in my little black dress, my legs being hugged by the tights. I was so aware of how feminine I felt, but that didn’t matter a jot if I wasn’t going to be accepted for what I was–a girl, by one of the few people who I loved and respected.

‘Susan.’ She sort of squeaked, then shook her head slightly as if to clear it. ‘Susan,’ she repeated. She had tears in her eyes. Why did she keep saying my name like that? Was she so upset that she didn’t know what to say? So many questions and why did she have moist eyes. Had I upset her that much? I turned to go back into the bedroom, too embarrassed to face her any longer, The pain in my heart was like a dagger; I had lost everything…

‘Susan stop; where are you going?’

‘T…to get ch…changed. You think I look stupid, bad, terrible. I can tell by the look on your face…’

‘STOP–please, honey. Come here.’

Her arms were open and I just rushed over to her. I may have looked stupid and just a boy dressed up as a girl, but I think she still loved me.

Her perfume smelt so nice as I hugged her. Why was I thinking about perfume at a time like this?

She pushed me away slightly and stared into my eyes.

‘I…I didn’t know.’

‘Know what?’ I gulped.

‘That you really are Susan–and not Mark.’

‘I don’t understand.’ I said as we sat on the sofa, holding hands.

‘As soon as I saw you I could see. You looked so normal–as a girl I mean. You weren’t a boy pretending or playing dress up. You were–are the real thing. I can now understand why you have gone through all the heartache and you are sooo beautiful…’

‘I am not!’ I exclaimed.

‘Don’t put yourself down like you normally do. You are beautiful and don’t forget it. You are lucky; there are plenty of transgendered folk who feel exactly the way you do but look like men in frocks. Those are the ones who have it tough.’

I wiped my eyes carefully with a tissue. I could see the advantages of waterproof mascara and vowed to get some as soon as possible.

‘How do you know all this,’ I sniffed.

‘Remember, I used to be a nurse before my two angels came along. Still am really; as soon as they go to school, I’m going back to work, part time.’

‘What has that got to do with it?’

‘I worked in A&E and saw all sorts there, including transgendered folk who had been in trouble or at the wrong end of an argument. That doesn’t include the surprising number of men who wear panties and stockings and other girlie stuff under their men’s clothes; mind you that may be a sexual thing but maybe not. I don’t like to judge about these things.’

I began to relax a bit as we chatted about my dressing and how I wanted to be myself. We got on to the subject of how far I wanted to go.

‘So, have you decided if you want to go all the way?’ she asked.

‘I think I do, but I’m not sure yet. It’s a big commitment and change of life. In myself I’ve always been a girl, but I want time to be sure of making the right decision.’

‘Well, you are fifteen now, nearly sixteen you have to make a choice soon otherwise when your voice breaks properly and you start sprouting hair and muscles, it will be all the harder.’

I looked at Josie, her face full of concern and yes, love for me. I had to tell her, it was only fair.

‘I…I’m taking some pills.’

‘What pills?’

‘Pills to stop me from puberty.’ I said softly.

She sat up straighter and looked at me closely.

‘I didn’t know you were under the doctor for this already. Does your mum know?’

‘Erm–no, I mean I’m not under the doctor for it. I did see him about a year ago and I said that I thought I was a girl and he said that I was being silly and it was all fantasy and probably some sort of sexual hang up. He said I would grow out–out of it.’

The damn broke again and I began to cry. I was finding that I was crying a lot lately.

I found myself in Josie’s arms again as I sobbed out my confession about getting the pills from the internet and taking them secretly.

After things quietened down a bit and I had wiped my eyes and blown my nose, Josie made us a cup of tea and we carried on talking.

‘So you bought the pills off the internet. I can understand how you felt after seeing that idiot of a doctor, Susan, but it’s so dangerous to do what you’ve done. There could be harmful things in those pills. You need to be under a specialist who can help you, not just go to some faceless person who can sell you stuff that at the least might just be chalk or at worse dodgy drugs that could make you very ill. You can see that can’t you?’

I nodded.

‘But I mustn’t start turning into a man. I didn’t know what else to do.’

She looked at me, compassion in her eyes.

‘Can I see the pills?’

I reluctantly nodded and got up. Going into the bedroom, I went over to the bedside table and got the bottle of pills. Josie followed me in and after I handed them over, she opened the bottle and shook a couple out of pills into her hand.

‘Well I don’t know if they are okay or not. But you can’t take a chance with your health. May I keep them? I’ll go and see one of the doctors in the hospital where I worked who has some experience with this sort of thing. He’s not a specialist but he knows a little.’

I nodded. I had no choice really.

‘What I think we need to do is find a doctor who isn’t brain dead and has experience with transgender issues. I’ll find out a bit more and talk to you tomorrow. Don’t worry, we’ll sort something out, you aren’t alone. You have me and Jeff–and your mum will support you all the way if I know her.’

I began feeling slightly better and just left it at that. I felt as if a weight was lifted from my shoulders–I wasn’t alone anymore. I had people who loved me and were willing to look after my interests and that was so nice and reassuring.

‘Now,’ Josie continued, ‘to more practical matters; what are you doing about the shoe situation…?’

We were deep into a conversation about what colour goes with pink and should I paint my toenails when there was a knock on the door. I had completely forgotten about Jeff!

‘I’ll go and change–’

‘Don’t be silly, he’ll have to see you some time like this. Just sit there and I’ll answer the door; and don’t worry, he won’t eat you–he had a big tea!’

I giggled nervously as she went to the door. I tried pulling down the hem of my dress a bit further, but it didn’t seem to help much. As she opened the door, she turned round and winked at me.

Standing there was Jeff looking rather apprehensive.

‘Is it okay to come in or do I have to go back to the pub?’

‘No, come in silly. I want you to meet someone.’

Josie stepped aside as Jeff walked in. He stopped dead when he saw me. A puzzled frown appeared on his face as he sort of looked closer at me. I felt a bit like a piece of meat on the deli counter and then he spoke.

‘Mark, is that you?’

I nodded shyly.

‘Bugger me with a pitchfork!’

‘Jeff! Your language!’

‘Sorry, honey…Mark.’

‘It’s Susan.’

‘Sorry–erm–sorry, Susan; you startled me.’

‘That’s all right,’ I said, amused in spite of the situation, because his face was a picture.

I stood up and went to him.

‘W…what d’you think?’

‘I think that you…you are very beautiful. I can see why you want to be a girl.’

‘I don’t want to be a girl,’ I said.

‘What d’you mean?’

‘I am a girl.’

‘’Mmm, I can see that, I think. So this is why I had to stand in the pub with total strangers and drink flat coke and stale crisps. I am grown up you know. I could have stayed here and helped or something.’

‘So you would have helped Susan with her dressing and makeup would you. Or perhaps discussed the finer points of colour coordination and whether to wear heels or not?’

‘Well–erm, maybe not that, but I could have made the tea.’

We all laughed at that and the tension–if there had been any–broke. Soon we were talking about my situation and soon Jeff was up to speed about what had happened to me.

‘Josie’s right, you were a right pillock to buy pills from some faceless wonder and hope that they were kosher, but that’s water under the bridge now. We will have to get you some medical help and quick. Mind you, I don’t know how much this is going to affect your football career.’

‘I don’t either. I just want to take it one day at a time and worry about the future when I have to. Maybe I’ll be the first girl to play in the Premier League. They can’t discriminate against your sex as easily as they used to.’

‘True, there’s been a lot of talk about girls in football lately. You might become a trailblazer.’

Josie glanced at her watch.

‘Right, Jeff, we have to go. I promised not to be back too late and I want to see the girls. You’re going to look after the girls’ tomorrow evening.’

‘I am?’

‘Yes, you am.’ She grinned.

‘Why?’

‘You can look after the girls while Susan and I go late night shopping. Oh, by the way, when you and Su–Mark go to his medical tomorrow morning I will be looking after the girls and opening up the café. Susan has a shoe delivery tomorrow and I’ll have to sign for it.’

‘What am I, your slave?’

‘Yup.’

‘Shopping?’ I said.

‘Yes, you need to get a few more clothes and the amount of money that you are going to earn means that you can dress like someone who is serious about clothes.‘

‘Wow,’ I said thinking of all the nice things I could buy.

‘Well, young lady, you need your beauty sleep and it will take a while to take off your makeup and get ready for bed. You will have to get up early so you can prepare for the big day tomorrow. When will you pick up Mark, Jeff?’

‘We have to be there by eleven but we don’t want to take chances. I’d like to get there by ten thirty at the latest, so I’ll pick you up at, say, nine thirty?’

I nodded my head. ‘Okay, thanks for everything–both of you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Josie replied, collecting her coat and then pecking me on the cheek. ‘We’ll have a good old natter tomorrow night and I’ll have a word with that doctor I mentioned. Goodnight, Susan. I think you are very lovely.’

‘Thanks.’ I mumbled.

‘Right, coming, Jeff?’

‘You go down; I just want a word with, erm…Susan.’

‘Okay, don’t be long.’

Josie left, leaving Jeff and I alone.

‘Well, Susan, you are a surprise package. I knew that you dressed up sometimes as a girl, but I didn’t know that you were such a natural. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

He came over and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek.

‘Night-night, love, and don’t worry about tomorrow. It’ll be okay.’

He turned around and walked out, leaving me open-mouthed.

I went to the window and gave them a quick wave as they drove off into the distance. Pulling the curtains, I decided to have a coke and a Kit Kat. I got the drink and chocolate bar from the fridge and sat down on the sofa.

It had been a strange day, first I’d had to say goodbye to my mum and that had upset me a great deal. The revelation that Jeff and Josie had known about my dressing for years didn’t make me feel much better either.

The meeting with Mr Prentiss had gone well and the money he mentioned was mind-boggling! I was worried about the medical tomorrow, but I couldn’t do much about that. If I failed the medical, I wouldn’t be any worse off than I had been just a few days ago and I would have the benefit of knowing that I was at least talented enough to be picked to join one of the major football clubs in the country, if not the world.

My chat with Josie had been great and I liked the way she supported me and would help me find the medical support I really needed if I wanted to carry on the road to becoming a woman physically. Jeff was a surprise and the kiss just before he left was as surprising as it was welcome. It showed that he too accepted me for who I was and that was so comforting. Now I had three people who loved me for myself, warts and all–my mum, Josie and Jeff. A lot of people in my position had nobody and that’s sad.

I decided to get ready for bed as I had to get up fairly early in the morning. I put the empty can and the Kit Kat wrapper in the waste bin and then went into the bedroom to get ready for bed.

As I pulled down my tights, my legs lost that lovely silky restricted feeling that they gave me. Looking at my toes, I smiled as I recalled the slightly strange conversation that I had had with Josie as to whether or not I should paint my toenails. Thinking about it, it probably wasn’t a good idea. I could just imagine the comments in the dressing room after the match with my toes being bright pink, or God forbid, red! No, I think that I’ll forget that one.

I slipped out of my dress, bra and panties and went into the bathroom naked. It took nearly ten minutes to clean the makeup off my face, but I wanted to be sure that I was completely clear, not wanting any embarrassing questions tomorrow!

I cleaned my teeth, had a wee and then returned to the bedroom and put on my long peach nightie. Brushing my hair, I yawned as I was now feeling quite tired after my momentous day.

I took the time to put my clothes away then checked the front door and turned off the lights, after setting the alarm on my mobile to wake me in good time in the morning.

As I snuggled down in my bed, I wondered how things would go tomorrow. Would I end up being a professional footballer or not? Worrying about it wasn’t going to help, so I just switched off the bedside light and went to sleep.

2

My ’phone woke me in the morning and I nearly threw it across the room as that flaming singing frog got under my skin–again!

Reluctantly, I got up out of my warm bed and stripping off my nightie, I used the toilet and then had a quick shower. I put on some boys’ pants–no panties today, unfortunately–a pair of football shorts, my track suit bottoms and a white T shirt. Then I went into the kitchen and made some coffee. I wasn’t very hungry, feeling a bit sick, but I forced myself to make some toast and then sat down and turned on the TV. As usual, the world was in crisis and the news reader seemed to relish it. To me, it seemed rather obscene that I could be on a very nice contract if I pass my medical when there were loads of people losing their jobs and houses due to the economic crisis. I shook my head and just carried on eating my toast. I had enough to worry about today without carrying the world’s worries on my shoulders too.

I was standing by the window, watching for Jeff’s car, when it came around the corner. I grabbed my coat and sports bag and was downstairs before he had time to pull up.

I locked my front door (I still liked that–my door to my flat) and went to the car.

‘Hi, Jeff.’

‘Hello, Mark, get in; it’s cold out there.’

I got in and we were soon on the way to the training ground.

‘Thanks for taking me, Jeff.’

‘That’s okay; I hope that everything goes well and you pass the medical.’

‘I think I’m okay. My fitness level is improving and I don’t think I have much wrong with me. The only thing I am worried about is the fact that I have been taking those pills. I don’t know whether that will be a problem or not.’

‘Well, we’ll see soon enough.’

Soon we arrived at the training ground and we parked next to a rather flashy looking Merc.

Going into the reception, the girl who was the same one as before, looked up and smiled as we arrived at the desk.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘It’s Mark, isn’t it?’

I nodded, somewhat shyly.

‘Okay, would you both like to go to the end of the corridor and through the swing doors? You can’t really miss it. It has a big sign on the wall saying medical centre. Go in and someone will be there for you.’

‘Thanks,’ we replied together as we went where she indicated.

Opening the swing doors, the first thing I noticed was the smell–a sort of medical or hospital type smell. Now I’m the world’s worst hypochondriac. Any lump, bump, graze, bruise, cough or sneeze, you name it and I think that I’ve got something dreadful wrong with me. I know you can say that I’m a wimp, but girls are allowed to be wimps, aren’t they?

There was a woman in a nurse’s uniform sitting behind a desk, inputting something on a computer. She looked up and smiled.

‘You must be Mark and you are his dad?’ She said looking at Jeff.

‘That’s right,’ said Jeff. I liked the sound of that–dad, he was better than that slime ball of the step-father that I’d had.

‘Call me Jeff.’

‘Okay, Jeff. Would you like to sit over in the lounge area while I get Mark sorted out. I’ll get you a cuppa in a minute.’

‘Thanks that would be nice. Good luck, Mark,’

I gave him a grimacing sort of smile and followed the nurse, through an entranceway that led to what looked like a treatment room. She went over to a bed and turned to me.

‘Right, please slip all your clothes off including your pants and socks and put on this gown? Sorry, I know it’s a pain but the doctor likes to do things properly. I’ll be back in a mo.’

She left me to it and I reluctantly took off all my clothes and folded them neatly on a chair.

I put on the gown–it was one of those that tied up around the back of the neck and leaves your bottom somewhat exposed–needless to say I hated it. I sat on the bed and tried in vain to cover my rear end but without much success.

Shortly after, the nurse came in.

‘Good, you’re ready. I have to take some blood. You aren’t squeamish, are you?’

I nodded and must have gone slightly pale.

She smiled and shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, you aren’t the only one. You’d be surprised to know that more than one of the strapping footballers here have fainted at the sight of a needle. Right hold out your arm…’

I won’t go into too much detail about the messy bits as I don’t like to dwell on stuff like that. She took about an armful of blood and then waited while I had a wee in a bottle. That took some time as I didn’t really want to go and I have real issues performing that sort of thing in public.

Anyway, after being stuck like a pin cushion, and embarrassed over having to wee in a bottle, the doctor came in. She was about forty, athletic and her roots were showing.

I am bit anti doctors because of my previous experiences but she was okay for a doctor–I suppose.

'Right,' she said, all efficiency, white coat and stethoscope. 'Your blood and urine are being tested as we speak. Now I need you to take your gown off so I can have a good look at you. Don't be shy; I've seen it all before.’

Reluctantly, I took off the gown and put it on the bed.

She listened to my chest, prodded me, poked me, bashed my knees with a rubber hammer and then there was the final nasty, as she shoved her lubricated and rubber gloved finger up my bottom.

'Right,' she said as I recovered from that traumatic experience, 'you can get dressed now, and then go through that door and we’ll do some other tests.' With that, she left me alone to get changed.

As I put on my track suit, I wondered if everything was okay. She didn’t say much to me about the condition of my body or anything. Was that a good sign or bad?

I finished dressing quickly and went to the door she had indicated and found myself in a sort of mini gym with a treadmill, exercise bike and other instruments of torture. Additionally, there was an array of electrical apparatus that wouldn’t look at of place at Cape Canaveral; all dials, screens, computers and stuff like that.

The doctor was standing by the treadmill with the nurse who looked up and smiled at me. I smiled back and wondered whether I should ask her where she got her eye shadow–it was nice. Then remembering what I was here for and that I was supposed to be in Mark mode. I looked at the doctor who was scribbling some notes down. She finished that and then looked up.

‘Ah Mark, can you take your top and trackies off for me?’

I did as I was asked and was soon being plugged into the machines. By that I mean, some sticky pads were put on my chest and a couple on my forehead. Then I was asked to stand on a treadmill and a mask was put over my face; it had a clear tube which was attached to yet another machine. I didn’t like that as it made me conscious of my breathing and was rather claustrophobic.

‘Right, Mark, I want you to walk and run when the treadmill starts. It starts easy and then gets harder. Just do what you can and if it all gets too much, press that big red button in front of you and the treadmill will stop. You’ll be going slowly at first and then fast, there will be uphill bits and downhill bits. Just follow what the treadmill does and you will be okay. Is that clear?’

I nodded and the treadmill started.

I won’t go through all the ins and outs of what that torture machine put me through. At some stages I thought it was easy-peasey and others I thought my lungs would burst and my legs drop off. But I survived somehow and once I had finished, with gasping breath and legs like jelly, I was told to go and have a shower and then meet the doctor, with Jeff in the consulting room.

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting with Jeff in the consulting room, waiting for the doctor. I was explaining all the pain and suffering I had gone through with Jeff, when the doctor came in and sat behind her desk.

She got right down to it.

‘Right Mark, I’ve had all the tests back and the results of the treadmill tests.’

I looked at Jeff and he looked at me. This was it–crunch time.

3

‘Your fitness levels are not too bad, but you need to get your stamina up. You seemed to tire a bit too quickly for my liking, but we’ll get back to that. Physically you are fine. Heart, lungs, liver and kidney are all good, musculature okay but under developed for a boy of your age. I’m a bit surprised that you’re showing no signs of puberty yet, but may mean that you’re a late developer. I’ve seen boys of 17 who have only just had puberty kick in, so I’m not too worried about it. Regarding your blood tests, you’re bit anaemic so I’m going to prescribe some iron tablets. You looked a bit pale when I first saw you and you got out of breath quite quickly on the tests that we did on the treadmill. Do you find you get tired quickly?‘

‘Yes, but I thought that it was the lack of training.’

‘Well that‘s partially true, but a lack of iron can cause it as well. Let’s see how you are after a month of taking the tablets. Right any questions?’

‘’Erm…have I passed?’

‘Passed what?’

‘The–erm–medical?’

‘Of course; you’re small for your age and of a slight build, but there are plenty of footballers are like that… I saw the video of the practice game you had the other day, and you are a rare talent; I think that you’ll do all right. Mind you, when puberty does kick in, you may grow quickly and develop a lot of muscles and they may affect the way you play, but you have a talent and that talent will always show through.’

We all stood up and we shook hands.

‘What happens now?’ asked Jeff.

‘Well, I have emailed the relevant people at the club and you should get a ’phone call about signing your contract quite soon, probably tomorrow via your agent. Anyway, it’s been nice to see you both and, Mark, welcome to your new club.’

After saying our goodbyes we left the medical centre and passed through the reception area. Just as the automatic doors slid open, we heard a voice from behind us.

‘Mark! ‘

We turned and I saw Mike Thomas, the reserve team coach.

‘Hello, Mr. Thomas,’ I said.

‘Hi, Mark, Jeff; I wanted to catch you before you left. I’m glad the medical went well. Look, we have a practice match in about twenty minutes and we are bit short of players… all this flue that’s going around. Do you fancy a game?’

‘Yes please; is that okay, Jeff?’

‘Yes, we’re in no real hurry. I’ll go and get myself a coffee and see you later.’

I followed Mr. Thomas out of reception and was soon in the changing room. It was empty as the other players were out on the pitch warming up. I put on the red strip provided and wondered how they got the right size again at such short notice. I had a strange feeling that they had planned this somehow but never mind that, I was going to play footie!

I had my boots in my bag, I never go anywhere like this without them so at least I didn’t have to play in trainers. I laced up the boots and then left the dressing room–going in the right direction this time. I felt a bit of a Wally last time when I went the wrong way!

I could hear noises from the pitch as I went down the tunnel. I blinked in the strong winter sunshine as I came out on the pitch. There were two teams warming up. Mr. Thomas was standing touchline, shouting instructions to everyone. As soon as he saw me, he stopped and called me over.

‘Right, go and have a quick run up and down the pitch a couple of time and do some stretches. You’ve got five minutes.’

I did as I was told and was soon warm and supple. As I passed several of the players; some of them I recognised from last time; they all said, ‘hi,’ or gave me a wave. I had heard how friendly the club was and how well the players jelled together, but I thought that it was just newspaper hype.

I heard a whistle and everyone went over to the coach.

‘Right, lads, we are a bit short at the moment because of this flue thing. Mark, here, has just had his medical and has passed fit. He will be signing on with us formally later in the week but in the mean time he’s going to play today. Now, as usual, I don’t want any nasty fouls, crunching tackles or anything that might cause injury. We have enough problems now as it is. So it’s just thirty minutes each way and the winners get a bonus in the wage packet…not that you need it, you rich buggers. Now off you go and as I say, keep it clean or you will get me angry and you don’t want that do you?’

‘Yes, boss,’ mumbled a few of the players.

‘I can’t hear you.’

‘YES, BOSS,’ shouted everyone grinning, including me.

This may have been a practice match of just an hour long, but I could tell from the start, just how committed the players were. The game was being played at a frantic pace and I was soon out of puff. Then I realised that I was chasing the ball all over the place and not being very clever. I slowed down a bit and stayed roughly in the zone I wanted to cover. My captain was the Frenchman, Arnold, a great player in his time, but at 38 was coming to his final years. He still had all the skill as a defensive midfielder but lacked the speed that he used to have. I watched him and learned quickly that pace wasn’t everything. He read the ball and knew almost instinctively where he should be all the time.

I tried to emulate him and found that somehow I was playing better and not feeling quite so tired. I stayed in the midfield most of the first half as the blues were constantly attacking and not allowing us to break out much. I managed to wrestle the ball off a blue’s attacker and saw our lone striker put his arm up as he started to jink through a couple of defenders. I quickly kicked the ball up field so that he could get to it before he was off side. Luckily, the ball landed just in front of him and he was able to fire it home at about twenty yards.

I got several claps on the back for that and it gave my confidence a much needed boost.

The half time whistle blew and it was 2—1 to the blues. After a quick drink, we changed ends and were off again. I was more involved now, helping to make a goal and saving the opposition from scoring by clearing a fierce shot off the line.

It was about a minute to go when something happened that changed the game. I can’t remember too much about it at the time and it was sort of instinctive. I saw the video afterwards so I can tell you what happened. The ball was with the opposing keeper and he kicked the ball out. I was standing roughly to the left of the centre circle. The ball came down to me and luckily there wasn’t anyone too close. As the ball fell towards me, I glanced at the goal; the goalie was on the edge of his area. It was a bit windy and the ball sort of swerved slightly as it dipped down towards me.

Sometimes you do things without thinking. If you thought about it, you can fluff it. I didn’t think–I just did it. I put my right leg up and my boot connected with the ball and went up in the air. I spun 360 degrees and as the ball came down again, my boot connected and it went sailing towards the goal. The keeper was still on the edge of the area and when he saw that the ball was going to fly over him, he desperately tried to get back. It was too late; the ball went in just under the bar.

You could hear a pin drop. Everyone was looking at me. I could feel myself go hot in the face and just knew that I had gone as red as a beetroot.

Someone clapped and believe it or not, everyone joined in and then came over to congratulate me, even Mr. Thomas. The game was over and we had won 3-2 and I had the respect of my team mates, which to me was more satisfying than a fluke goal.

With praises ringing in my ears still, I found myself somehow in Jeff’s car on our way home.

‘Well, Mark, what a morning eh?’

‘You said it.’

‘That goal was brilliant.’

‘It was a fluke.’

‘I don’t think so. That was skilful and instinctive but not a fluke.’

‘Anyway, apart from that, I think your team mates and manager were very impressed with you. What with that and your all clear to join the club, it has been a great day for you.’

‘Yes, I keep pinching myself. I don’t know if this is a dream, but if it is I don’t want to wake up from it.’

‘It’s no dream, just enjoy it.’

‘And I’m glad that the medical didn’t come up with anything about those pills.’

‘Well they would hardly be testing you for that, would they?’

‘Maybe not.’

My mobile ’phone went off.

I looked at who was calling me, it said number withheld. I jabbed the ’phone button.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Mark, it's John Prentiss.’

Hello, Mr. Prentiss.’

‘John, please. Now look, I’ve had a ’phone call from Melchester. They want you to go to the stadium to sign up on Thursday morning. Can you do that?’

‘Hang on.’

‘Jeff, John wants me to go to Melchester on tomorrow morning to sign up.’

‘Blimey, that was quick! I’ll make sure you can get there.’

‘Are you sure, I can take a bus.’

‘No, I’m enjoying living my fantasy through you. I’ll take you.’

‘Thanks. Hi, John, yes, tomorrow will be fine.’

‘Good, I think I have your email address, I‘ll send you some details. Now another matter; it turns out that Bob Ferris from the Daily Globe was on the training ground and was there when you played today. He’s ferreting about, trying to learn a bit more about you. He was evidently gob smacked at your performance and from what I heard, he had every right to be. If he contacts you or any other media people do, say nothing–just refer them to me, okay? ‘

‘O–okay.’

‘It looks like you’ve been noticed, Mark,and that means we have to be careful about what you say. Right, I’ll be in touch and congratulations. And Mark, I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up being one of the youngest players ever to play in the Premier League, I think that the present youngest was just over 16 when he started but don’t worry about that, we’ll take every day as it comes. Look there’s someone on the other line. I’ll see you tomorrow at the signing.’ The ’phone went dead.

‘Everything all right, Mark? asked Jeff.

We were coming up to the café and I just wanted to be on my own for a bit.

‘Yes, ‘I said softly.

‘Are you sure. You’ve gone a bit pale.’

‘Just a bit tired; it's all happening a bit quickly. I think that I’ll just go up to the flat for a while.’

‘Okay but don’t forget to get those iron tablets. It looks like you need them. I’ll see you later. Oh I forgot you are going shopping tonight. Do you still want to go?’

I thought about it. Perhaps a bit of retail therapy might do me some good and take my mind off other things.

‘Yes, I’ll go.’

‘Okay, Josie will come about six, I think she said that. ’Bye.’

‘ ’Bye Jeff and thanks for everything.’

‘No problem, see you later.’

I got out of the car and let myself into the flat. Taking my coat off, I went over to the fridge for the inevitable coke and then went and sat down on the sofa.

I had a lot of things running through my mind; the medical, my goal in the practice match and now, most of all, the fact now dawning on me that my private life may be exposed and how that might affect my possible transition.

It was fast becoming clear that my life–already complicated, was going to get much more complex over the next weeks and months.

To be continued...

I hoped that you enjoyed this chapter as I did whilst writing it.

I was never a great footballer, but I had my moments, like when I did a very similar thing to the goal described above. The only difference was, that I was a bit nearer the goal and instead of lobbing it over the keeper, I volleyed it and it went inside the corner post. I thought that it was a fluke, but it couldn’t have been as I did the same thing a month later. If only the talent scouts were there…ah memories…

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

“Have you forgotten?” She asked as she pushed past me and went upstairs. Then as I followed her, it dawned on me; we were supposed to go shopping!

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 6

Previously...

I had a lot of things running through my mind; the medical, my goal in the practice match and now, most of all, the fact, now dawning on me that my private life may be exposed and how that might affect my possible transition.

It was fast becoming clear that my life–already complicated, was going to get much more complex over the next weeks and months.

And now the story continues.

1

I must have fallen asleep as the next thing I heard was a knock on the door downstairs. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was ten to six!

Yawning, I arose from the sofa and went downstairs, opening the door and rubbing my eyes at the same time, I saw Josie standing there with a frown on her face.

“What?” I asked, yawning.

“Have you forgotten?” She asked as she pushed past me and went upstairs. Then as I followed her, it dawned on me; we were supposed to go shopping!

“Sorry, Josie, I fell asleep. I get a bit tired after heavy games.”

“Well, don’t forget to take those iron pills, that’s probably why you feel that way. Now we must get you ready sharpish if we are going to have any time to hit the shops.”

“What should I wear?” I asked, finally coming around and waking up.

“Well, I’m going to make us some coffee and you are going to dress sensibly so that you can change in and out of clothes without too much hassle.”

“I…I’m not too sure about going out in girls’ clothes.”

“From what I saw last night, Susan, I didn’t see much boy there. Anyway, you need some clothes and this is the best way to get them. That reminds me, here are the shoes that were delivered today.” She handed me a box.

“Thanks,” I said hesitantly as I went to the bedroom, leaving her clinking cups and doing the coffee.

I still was a bit nervous but realized that if I wanted to be accepted as a girl, I must do this.

I went to the wardrobe: looking at the few things hanging there that I actually had to wear, I realised my options were a bit limited. I was scratching my head as I heard a noise behind me. Turning around, I saw Josie coming in with two steaming mugs in her hands.

“Come on, slow coach, time’s running out!”

“I don’t know what to wear.”

“Where have I heard that before?” she said, putting the mugs down on the dressing table and walking over to me.

“Hmm, you’re right; you don’t have much, do you? Look let’s be practical and work with what you’ve got. I think that this blouse–it’s nice and loose–and your knee length denim skirt should do it. Have you got any tights?”

I opened my smalls’ drawer and took out a pair of nude tights.

“Good; that’ll do. I’ll leave you to get dressed; give me a shout when you’re ready.”

She picked up her mug and returned to the lounge. I quickly got out of my boy stuff, went into the bathroom and sprayed some smellies in all sorts of strategic places, Then I had a wee and after washing my hands, returned to the bedroom. I put on some white cotton panties and then slipped on my padded bra. Sitting down to put on my tights, I was careful not to snag them as I pulled them up my still-smooth, hairless legs. I pulled up the skirt and zipped it up the back. Finally, I put on the blouse, which was a white, and a loose peasant style. Glancing in the mirror, I thought I looked pretty okay–for the shops, that is.

“Josie?” I called as I sipped my now-cooling coffee.

“Yes, honey? Oh, that looks nice; not as glam as last night, but practical.”

“Makeup?” I asked.

“Hmm, definitely; can you do it?”

“Yes, I’m not too bad at it now.”

“Well, don’t overdo it; we’re going shopping–not clubbing–and try to hurry up because I want to be out of here in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay,” I replied, sitting at the dressing table and reaching for the necessary.

I was ready in ten minutes, which surprised me, but Josie sent me back as my lipstick was a bit wonky and that took another few minutes to sort out.

Soon I was finished and in no time at all, I had pulled on my coat, put on my new shoes, which were reasonably comfortable but didn’t really go with my skirt, and picked up my shoulder bag–another eBay special that was black and so went with most things.

I locked the front door behind us and got into the car with Josie.

I was a mite nervous as we drove down the road, wondering if anyone was looking at me. Every time we stopped at a junction, I shrank down in my seat.

“Now, just stop doing that,” said Josie after the seventh time. “You look fine–just a nice teenage girl sitting in a car. You haven’t got two heads and no way do you look anything remotely like a boy so just relax and enjoy yourself.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mumbled under my breath. I swear I could hear Josie mumble something about ‘teenagers’. I didn’t know what that was about.

In a surprisingly short time, we arrived at the shopping centre. After parking on the twelfth floor, we made our way to the lifts. It was bit chilly and exposed in the car park and I wondered whether it would have been better to wear jeans. A skirt and tights were no real protection from the windy and cold weather sometimes.

We passed a few people and no one seemed to scream and shout at the freak in a dress, so I relaxed a bit. Soon we found ourselves in the brightly lit shopping centre. The place was surprisingly packed with people. I wondered fleetingly, if there was anyone else there who was like me — transgendered, then I was too busy to think as Josie took me into every clothes shop she could think of.

I tried on lots of different clothes. Josie seemed to know all the shops quite well and I was thankful that the changing rooms were cubicles rather than open ones. Eighty percent of the things I tried on were not ‘right’ for me. Trying to work out the correct colour, style, size and other things not definable made me giddy with it all. I tried on skirts, dresses, tops, jumpers, jeans, cut offs, I don’t think that there was one type of clothing that I didn’t try on. Then there were the shoes. It seemed like I tried on more shoes than that lady–erm Imelda Marcos was it?–had in her closet. I found out that I had a high instep and a wide foot, whatever that means. On top of that, Football evidently didn’t do much for the shape and condition of my toenails and I had to promise Josie that I would look after them. Though how I could do that, I didn’t yet know.

We went back to the car several times to drop off bags and I seriously wondered if we should have brought a lorry with us, as the back of the car was heavily loaded up!

After all this, I was getting a bit shell shocked and shopped out, but I hadn’t accounted for Josie’s incredible stamina, which far outstripped any professional footballers I had seen.

She held me by the hand as I was plunged into the heady world of ladies’ undies.

We visited several shops for these essential items and I ended up with a vast array of panties; cotton, satin and other fabrics. I became the proud owner of a number of slips, half and full. I thought that they were a bit old fashioned, but according to Josie, the style guru, they were coming back. I also bought some pretty nightdresses. Finally, we purchased some bras. I thought that we were going to get some padded ones, but Josie insisted that I get some full and half ones without padding, saying that she would explain later.

After that mammoth shopathon, we decided to stop for a break. We went up to the atrium where all the food places were and I sighed with relief when we sat down with our drinks and sticky buns.

“Well, Susan, have you enjoyed your first experience shopping like this?”

“Well I must say, it’s certainly different,” I replied, laughing.

“Yes it does take some getting used to, doesn’t it?” We both laughed and then Josie got serious.

“I spoke to my friend, the Doctor, and she said that she knows a specialist who may be able to help you. She arranged an appointment for you with her on Friday morning. Will that be okay?”

“That would be great!” I said with enthusiasm.

“I’ll get Jeff to look after the twins and I’ll take you in my car. Try to be ready by about two o’clock, okay?”

“Thanks Josie, you’re a star.”

She just smiled.

We chatted quietly as we watched the other customers. My eye was caught by a pretty girl coming our way. I caught my breath as I realized that I knew who she was. Before I left school, I had one friend, Andrew Creasey… I say friend, we weren’t really that close, but just sort of gravitated together due to our love of football. I had gone to his house several times and had met his sister there. Her name was Claire and she was coming our way with a puzzled look on her face. I tried to turn away and hide my face with my hand. Josie was looking at me in a peculiar way and was about to say something when Claire came up to the table and sat down!

“Mark? It is you. What’s going on?”

2

I looked up, heart in my mouth and found myself speechless.

“You must be mistaken dear, this is Susan,” said Josie, “anyway Mark is a boy’s name how could you possibly mistake her for a boy?”

“I’ve been like following you around for a bit. There was something about her that nagged at me. At first I thought that it was someone who I had met somewhere. I didn’t like want to go over and say something because I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. Then I followed you both into the lingerie shop and then I noticed that she like kept rubbing the side of her nose with her little finger. Then it just clicked and I looked a bit closer and under the makeup and everything, I like recognised Mark.”

I had stopped hiding behind my hand and was looking at her as she explained. I sighed and just smiled ruefully at her. She didn’t look like she was going scream and shout about it. She always was quite nice when I saw her at Andrews’s house and I hoped that she would understand.

“So, Mark, or should I say, Susan, what’s all this about like?”

“It’s Susan,” said Josie rather heatedly,” we don’t know a Mark…”

“It’s okay, Josie; I’ve been rumbled as they say in the cop shows. Sorry, Claire, I think I need to tell you what’s happened.”

“Look, M…I mean Susan. I’m not one of those people who like go all funny about people’s sexuality or anything. Just tell me, are you like doing this as a joke or a bet or is there something behind all this?”

“It’s no joke to me. I’ll tell you all about it, if you want to really know…”

Josie got some more drinks and sticky buns as I took a deep breath and told Claire all that had happened to me. It took some time to tell her and answer all her questions, but eventually I came to the point where we were now and just sat back and waited for her reaction.

“So you have felt like you were a girl for a long time?”

“Almost forever.”

“Blimey; it must like suck that you are trapped in boy’s body then?”

“Yes, it is horrible, but at least I can now be myself sometimes and I’m getting help with transitioning too.”

“Andrew did like wonder why you didn’t come back to school. He went round to your house the other day and found the place empty.”

“That’s because I moved out and my mum’s gone to stay with her sister in Scotland.”

“So you live by yourself over the café?”

“That’s right.”

“And you’ve become a professional footballer?”

“Mmm.”

“Blimey; What'll happen when they get to know about, you know what?”

“What?” I asked.

“Dressing or being a girl, silly. Like what did you think I meant?”

“I haven’t thought too far ahead. So much has happened I just want to take one day at a time.”

“So, Claire,” asked Josie, “now you know about Susan, how you feel about it. I want you to know that I would be seriously displeased if you did anything to hurt her.”

Claire looked shocked.

“Hurt her! You have to like be kidding. I think that she’s seriously cool to do what she’s done and I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. I like won’t tell anyone about this, I promise.” She turned to me; “Look, Susan, can we like see each other sometimes? I think that it would be cool and we can hang out or something.”

“That would be nice.” I said shyly.

“Ooh you are all shy, aren’t you? We’ll have to knock that out of you. I don’t mean knock–wrong words; what I mean is that I’ll like help you and give you a few tips and things. No insult Josie, but I like know a bit more about being young than you.”

“Bloody cheek! I have you know, I was young once and I’m not that old now.”

“Sorry, wrong words again. I think that you’re quite young and everything, but, like, you aren’t a teenager, are you?”

“No, but still…”

I started laughing; it was the way they were talking to each other. I couldn’t help it. They looked at me as if I was mad and then started giggling themselves! It took a few minutes for us to return to normal.

“Well,” said Claire, “I have to go now as my mum’s like waiting for me and she’ll string me up if I’m late again. Here’s my mobile number if you want to ring me or send me a text that would be like cool. ’Bye now.”

She stood up, hesitated and then looked at me again, “Susan I think you look lovely and I like really do want to be your friend; call me soon won’t you?”

I smiled up at her and nodded. “That would be great. I need all the friends I can get. I’ll text you tonight.”

With a finger wave, Claire left to find her mum, leaving Josie and me to reflect on what had just happened.

“Well that was a surprise,” said Josie, “she seems to be a really nice girl though I wish she’d stop say ‘like’ on every other sentence!.”

“Yes, like, I met her like a couple of like times at Andrew’s house, she was like very nice to me.”

I couldn’t keep it up and just started giggling.

Josie laughed and then looked at her watch. “Don’t you start doing it; look, we haven’t got much time; there’s one more place we have to go to.”

“Where?” I asked, totally shopped out and, frankly, knackered.

“It’s a surprise.”

We got up and left the atrium and went up to a sort of mezzanine floor. There were a few shops up there; they looked like specialist shops–craft and hobby shops, places where nerds, geeks and other beings from outer space lurked. Mind you dressed as I was and with what I had in my panties, I should talk!

In the corner was a shop that supplied surgical supplies. I was a bit bemused as Josie led me to it. Inside, I found myself in a small shop with a counter. There weren’t any items on show. It was a very plain shop really. I expected to see false limbs, eyes and stuff like that.

“Can I help you?” said the middle-aged woman behind the counter.

“Yes please,” said Josie, “I rang you earlier...”

“Oh yes, nice to see you.” She turned to me. “You must be Susan; hello, dear.”

“Erm, hi,” I said, not really knowing what was going on. Josie turned to me.

“Susan, you know we bought those bras in the shop a short while back.”

“Yes,” I replied.

“I think you wondered why they weren’t padded.”

“I did wonder.”

“I thought it would be a good idea if you had more realistic-looking breasts.”

“More realistic?”

“That’s right. This shop caters for people who do not have normal looking breasts–like people who have had mastectomies or even transgender folk, who need enhancing.”

“Enhancing?” I asked.

“Yes, breast forms are more natural than foam padding and feel nicer too–or so I’ve heard.”

“Right,” said the lady, “if you would like to go into the changing room and take off your blouse, I will do some measurements and see if we can get you something that you will be comfortable with.”

I went into the changing room pulled the curtain across and took my blouse off. I wondered if the breast forms would make me look more natural. In a few moments the lady came in and started measuring me and then wrote a few notes on a pad. She then asked me to stay where I was. She was only gone a few moments and came back with a couple of boxes.

“Right, dear,” she said, “would you like to put on one of these bras?”

She handed me one of the bras that she must have been given by Josie (I recognised it; white with nice lacy bits) and I quickly put it on. It felt strange without any padding.

The lady–I still didn’t know her name–opened one of the boxes and picked out something pink and fleshy-looking. She handed it to me, but I didn’t know what to do with it!

Smiling, she took it back and then carefully placed the pink breast shaped thing inside my bra, I jumped slightly as the breast form felt cold against my naked skin. Then she took the other one out of the box and did the same on the other side.

“They’ll soon warm up,” she said with a smile.

She was right; they quickly warmed up with heat of my body. I looked down and saw that my breasts did look more natural. It was rather strange though, because I wasn’t used to the weight now on my chest.

“How do they feel?” she asked.

“Different,” I replied softly.

“You’ll soon get used to them; they fit okay, don’t they?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Would you like to leave them on?” she asked.

“Yes, that would be nice.” I said as I reached for my blouse and put it on.

‘You will see some special adhesive in the box for those times that you want them to look more permanent. There is an instruction leaflet and adhesive remover in there too. If you aren’t sure how to do the necessary, either ring me up or come in; okay?”

“Yes, thanks.” I replied.

As I left the changing cubicle I could feel my new breasts jiggling slightly. It was a strange feeling but rather nice.

Josie was sitting in the corner reading a magazine. She looked up as I walked in.

“Well, they look okay,” she said, “do you like them?”

“Yes, they are very, very nice. I pointed to the left one. This one’s Pinkie and the other one’s Perky; thank you very much!”

“That’s okay then–my treat, although I don’t think that it’s normal to name your breasts! Thanks, Mabel, you’re a star.”

“That’s okay dear; it’s nice to help somebody. I think you’re very pretty Susan, you make a lovely girl and if Pinkie or Perky start playing up, be sure to give me a call.”

“Thank you, I will,” I smiled.

After saying our goodbyes we left the shop with our packages. The shopping centre was closing soon, and so we made our way back to the car park. I must say that the swaying of my new breasts were a bit distracting even with a bra on to hold them reasonably firmly in place! Mind you, wearing my new blancmanges made me feel more feminine than I had ever done before.

Putting our packages on the back seat of the car, we got in and prepared to leave. There weren’t many cars left in the car park now, as most of the shoppers had left. As we drove home, I was looking forward to trying on my new clothes and shoes and was so pleased that I now had a decent wardrobe for me to choose from!

“Well,” Josie said as we arrived at the café, “Did you enjoy that?”

“Yes, it was great, thanks soooo much for taking me.”

“That’s all right, dear, it was a pleasure. Let’s get these bags upstairs, and then I have to go home because I need to see to Jeff and the twins.”

It took two trips to get all the packages upstairs and into the flat. We covered the bed with bags and the overflow went on the floor.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” said Josie as she started to leave.

“Thank you so much again for looking after me.”

“That’s all right, dear, I really enjoyed being with you; it’s nice to have a girl, especially a lovely girl like you to go shopping with. We must do it again.”

“Yes please, I’d enjoy that It was fun, wasn’t it?”

I looked at her and couldn’t resist rushing to her to give her a big hug.

“What was that for?”

“Because I love you and Jeff; you’re so good to me. I think you’re my second mum and dad.”

“Oh Susan, we love being there for you and I do feel like your mum; a very young mum, but still a mum.”

“I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

“I know honey. Look I have to go now, but I’ll pop round tomorrow and have a nice girlie chat, okay?”

“That’d be cool. I’ll give you a fashion show if you like?”

“Yes, that’d be great. See you tomorrow then.”

With a wave, she went downstairs. I watched her car lights recede into the distance, and pulled the curtains. I had a nice warm feeling in my tummy. It was lovely having people care for me and I wondered if they would mind my calling them mummy and daddy. My mum was mum and I loved her to bits, but I have never seen a law anywhere that stops you having more than one mum or dad! Mind you, with this present government, you never know!

I took my mobile phone out of the bag, and then looking at the paper where I had Claire’s mobile number; I texted her my e-mail address. I didn’t want to ring her in case she wasn’t alone. So I thought that if I left her an e-mail message, she might be able to reply without other people, like Andrew, knowing about it. I so hoped we’d be friends, especially as she seemed okay with my dressing. I really needed all the friends I could get.

I returned to the bedroom and undressed. The breast forms still felt rather strange but I was getting more used to them now; I pulled them out–they were a bit sweaty, so I wiped them with a towel, and then placed them in their box. I wondered what they would be like glued to me and promised myself that I would try it soon.

I took off my bra and my panties, and then I went back into the bedroom and went over to the carrier bags. After rummaging about a bit, I found one of my new nighties. It was pale pink, knee length and made of shimmery satin; it looked gorgeous and felt all slippery to touch. I took it into the bathroom and left it on the chair. Using makeup remover, I cleaned my face, and then put on my nightie. I loved the way it slid down my body–very nice! Then I brushed my hair, and cleaned my teeth. I didn’t use any mouthwash as |had read in one of my girlie magazines that it could cause mouth ulcers or even worse. It wasn’t very late, but I was quite tired. So I decided I would go to bed and have an early night.

I made sure the alarm on my mobile was set for 7:30am as I wanted to go out for a run before doing anything else tomorrow. At the last moment, I remembered to take my iron tablets and hoped that they might give me a bit more oomph.

Soon I was in bed feeling warm and relaxed. Then I got up again and went over to one of the bags. I pulled out a sweet stuffed white rabbit (not a real one, of course!) that I had treated myself to and went back to bed. As I cuddled it, I reflected on my lovely day, and hoped that I’d have more of the same soon.

3

The next day, I woke up to the sound of that blasted frog noise. It took a great deal of willpower not to throw my phone across the room, but somehow I managed to stop myself in time.

I left my rabbit sleeping on the pillow, and yawning, got up and went to the toilet. After doing the necessary, I took off my nightie and then had a quick shower. I used a shower hat as I didn’t want to get my hair wet. It was a bit silly having a shower before going for a run, but it did help wake me up a bit. After drying myself, I put on my track suit and trainers, and soon found myself out in the street.

I ran across the playing fields; they were a bit muddy as there had been a slight thaw overnight. It certainly wasn’t as cold as it had been over the previous week. I could feel I was a bit stronger in my running today, and I didn’t seem to be quite so breathless. It might have been the iron tablets, but I didn’t think that they would work that quickly.

As I ran, I wondered if Claire had seen the text I sent to her. I decided that as soon as I got back home, I would check my e-mails. I had quite a long run that morning as I felt really strong. It was nice to feel some strength in my body and I hoped I would be fit enough to be able to play football at a professional level and not just keep running out of puff.

Running along beside the canal, I felt full of life. Everything seemed to be coming together now, and I reflected that it was great that I had a new friend. I had always been a bit of a loner and found it very hard to make friends. I hoped that Claire would be the friend I wanted and had needed all my life. After about forty minutes, I arrived back at the flat. I opened my front door and let myself in. I felt rather tired as I walked up the stairs so I flopped down on the sofa and took off my running shoes, still breathing rather heavily, but I feeling all the better for my run. I was glad I went.

I was just about to take my sweaty clothes off. When my phone rang: I picked it up and I noticed it was a withheld number.

“Hello,” I said.

“Is that Mark Hurst?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Hi this is Bob Ferris from the Daily Globe.”

“Yes?”

“I have been hearing great things about you, Mark. From what I hear, you are really going places. Melchester are a great club. How do you feel about joining them?”

“Sorry I can’t speak to you now. Can you please speak to my agent, John Prentiss?”

“Oh, I know John very well and I’m sure that he wouldn’t mind my talking to you about your career.”

“I’m sorry I can’t talk to you. Please talk to John, thank you.”

I switched the phone off, my heart pounding. How did he get my number, I wondered. I stripped off and had a shower.

Afterwards I put on one of my new blouses. It was a pink strappy affair and was one of yesterday’s purchases. I didn’t bother with the bra, as I may have had to change quickly into my boy mode. I put on some pink panties, and a black skirt. After brushing my hair, I felt human again.

I had some toast for breakfast, with a cup of coffee. I turned on the news and saw that the credit crunch hadn’t got any better or disappeared overnight and almost everyone was getting poorer by the day. There wasn’t any mention of Melchester in the sports news and I took that to be good sign that we didn’t have any more injuries.

After clearing up my breakfast things, I turned on my computer and waited for it to warm up. After a few minutes, I checked my e-mails. There was one from Claire! I opened the e-mail up and read her message.

Hi Susan,

It was great seeing you yesterday, I think you are very pretty and I’m a bit jealous. Anyway enough of my insecurity problems. I’ll come and see you after school this afternoon. If you can’t make it, just text me.

Hugs,
Claire.

I smiled as I re-read the e-mail. It was nice to hear from her and I looked forward to seeing her later. I rang downstairs to the cafe.

“Hi Jeff, do you need a hand?”

“Two would be better–sorry, erm yes, that would be great if you’ve got time.”

“Shall I come as Susan or Mark?”

“Come as Susan; none of the regulars will recognise you. I know you like to be Susan as much as possible. So this would be a good opportunity for you, but only if you want to.”

“Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.”

I took my blouse off, slipped on a bra and placed Pinkie and Perky into their new homes. After replacing my blouse, I was ready for anything… except I had forgotten to put on my shoes. I checked my hair, just to make sure that I hadn’t gone too blond with my thinking and then giggling, I put on my black low heeled shoes–another purchase from yesterday–and finally I was ready and went downstairs to help Jeff.

“Hi, Jeff,” I said as I walked in.

“Hello, Susan, you look nice today.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a bit embarrassed as a couple of customers looked up and smiled at me. Would they have smiled if I had been in boy mode?

It didn’t seem that anyone recognised me as Mark and I soon relaxed, helping Jeff by clearing the tables and washing-up.

After the place emptied a bit, I sat down with Jeff and we had a cup of tea.

“Well done; it wasn’t too bad was it?” said Jeff, manfully ignoring the new growths on my chest. It was obvious that he had been briefed by Josie and faced instant pain if he said anything about them.

“No, I was a bit worried, but it turned out okay.”

We chatted for a while, and then things got busy again. It wasn’t until nearly two o’clock that the last customer left and we closed up. Jeff thanked me for helping him and said that he had just had a text from Josie, who said that she would be coming up to the flat in about 30 minutes.

I said goodbye to Jeff and went upstairs again, I had forgotten to make the bed and so I tidied up a bit and then waited for Josie to arrive.

Soon I heard a knock on the door, so I went downstairs and opened it.

“Hello Susan, how are you today, dear?”

“Fine, thank you,” I replied, taking her coat. We went upstairs and I made her a cup of tea, and I had a Coke.

“Well, have you heard from Claire, yet?”

“Yes, she sent me an e-mail. She’s coming round after school today.”

“She seems like a nice girl.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to seeing her.”

“Well, what have you been up to today?”

“I helped Jeff downstairs in the cafe. After my run this morning, I had a phone call from that man from the Globe. He wanted to talk to me, but I didn’t want to. So I just told him to contact John Prentiss. I don’t think he was very happy.”

“Well, that’s his problem, isn’t it? You need your privacy, especially now.”

“I’m really worried about anybody finding out about me. I don’t know what to do really. Do you think I need to tell John Prentiss about my being a girl?”

“Well, it’s up to you, but I think you should wait until you speak to a specialist before deciding anything else.”

“I agree really; I don’t think I want anybody to know yet. Not until I’ve finally decided what I am going to do. Anyway, I was going to ring my mum while you are here. Do you want to speak to her?”

“Yes, that’d be nice. I wonder how she’s getting on in Scotland.”

I picked up my phone, and speed dialled my mum’s mobile number. I waited for a few moments and then I heard her on the other end. It was nice to hear her voice.

“Hello Mum, it is Mark, how are you?”

“Hello Mark, I am fine love; how are you?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

I told her all that had happened to me and about how Josie and Jeff had accepted me as Susan. I also told her about what had happened regarding the medical and the offer of a contract from Melchester. She was very pleased for me, but I could hear the worry in her voice.

“Are you dressed as Susan now?” she asked.

“Yes, I feel so much better as Susan than I do as Mark. Josie has got me an appointment with a specialist–a gender specialist–and she will hopefully help me with pills and things.”

“When are you going?”

“Friday, I suppose I’m looking forward to it, but if she says, that I can’t be a girl, I don’t know what I would do.”

“There’s no point in worrying about it now; wait until Friday and see what she has to say.”

“Josie’s here; she would like to have a word with you, if that’s okay.”

“Okay, love, I’ll speak to you again, perhaps on Friday?”

“Yes, that’d be great. I miss you, mum.” I replied, feeling a tear roll down my cheek.

“I miss you too, love. Perhaps we can see each other soon.”

“I hope so; here’s Josie.”

I left them chatting and went into the bathroom to wipe my face. I missed my mum so much and I vowed that I would see her again as soon as possible. After a few minutes I came back in and Josie was just saying goodbye to my mum. She put the phone down, and then turned to me.

“Are you okay, Susan?”

“I suppose so,” I sighed.

“Let’s hope you can see her soon, eh?”

“Mmm.”

Josie stayed with me for a while, and we chatted about things. We had a look through my new clothes, and believe it or not. Josie felt that I did just have enough; for now!

After Josie left, I made myself a sandwich and practiced with my makeup. I was getting quite good at it now. I always had trouble with my lips though; I couldn’t quite get it right. I was getting a lot better though. It was just after four and I heard the doorbell ring. I went downstairs, opened the door and there was Claire.

“Hi, Claire, thanks to coming.”

“That’s okay; I’ve been looking forward to it. Are you going to let me in then?”

“Sorry,” I said laughing and standing aside.

We went upstairs and in no time were chatting like old friends. She told me all that had been happening at school, and I told her what I had been up to.

“You haven’t told Andrew about me have you?”

“No, I said I wouldn’t and I won’t unless you like want me to.”

“I want to see the doctor first before I start telling anybody else. I just get the feeling that she might laugh at me like my old doctor did. I would hate that. Also, if it got out that I was transgendered, I don’t know how it would affect me with Melchester.”

“I’m sure the doctor won’t laugh at you. She’s a specialist, so she knows all about people in your predicament. I think, like, you’re right not to let too many people know about things though until you’re, like, sure where you stand and everything.”

I changed the subject and we started talking about football. It turned out that Claire was a fan of Melchester too. She was thrilled to know that I was now going to play for them, and she had all sorts of ideas about how well I would do. She remembered seeing a couple of matches when I played at school, and how well I did there. Football was the only good thing I was really good at. Everything else I tried at school didn’t really work for me.

We spent a pleasant afternoon together; she tried on some of my clothes, and thought I had a very good dress sense; even though Josie chose the most of the stuff!

“D’you, like, fancy a Mackey D?” she asked.

I was getting a bit hungry and I didn’t really have anything much to eat in the fridge; so it was a pretty easy answer really.

“Okay, do you think I should go as Susan, or should I change back into Mark?”

“Well, I don’t think anybody would like recognise you if you go as Susan.”

“I want to stay Susan as much as possible. I feel very uncomfortable being Mark. The only reason why I am being Mark at all is because of the football.”

“I know, honey, but that’s all you can do at the moment–dress as Susan when you can, I mean like. Maybe the doctor will have some ideas as to what you can do.”

Mackey D’s wasn’t too far away by bus, so just minutes later, we arrived there and were soon eating our Big Macs. It amazed me that nobody recognised me as a boy. The spotty youth behind the counter looked me up and down; it was something I hadn’t bargained for–being ogled like that. It was one aspect of girlhood that I wasn’t too comfortable with. Mind you, it was a bit weird because I felt a bit more self-assured than I thought I would. Maybe it was because I was wearing my breast forms. They looked a lot more natural than just wearing a padded bra. I was very aware of the weight on my chest, and it helped me feel what it would be like to have breasts of my own. We sat in a corner, drinking our milk shakes, and munching our food, talking to each other just like ordinary teenaged girls and giggling a lot! It was nearly 7 o’clock by the time I reached home, having said goodbye to Claire at the bus stop. She was going one way and I was going the other. We promised to talk tomorrow and as we left each other, I smiled. It looked like I had a new best friend, like!

As I walked up to the cafe, I saw two people standing outside my front door. I had a funny feeling in my tummy and as I walked up they turned to me. One had a camera in his hand, the other a notebook.

The man with a notebook looked up, when I arrived with the key in my hand.

“Hello, love, have you seen Mark Hurst? We’d like to talk to him.”

To be continued...

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

The man with a notebook looked up, when I arrived with the key in my hand.

“Hello, love, have you seen Mark Hurst? We’d like to talk to him.”

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 7

Previously...

It was nearly 7 o’clock by the time I reached home, having said goodbye to Claire at the bus stop. She was going one way and I was going the other. We promised to talk tomorrow and as we left each other, I smiled. It looked like I had a new best friend, like!

As I walked up to the cafe, I saw two people standing outside my front door. I had a funny feeling in my tummy and as I walked up they turned to me. One had a camera in his hand, the other a notebook.

The man with a notebook looked up, when I arrived with the key in my hand.

“Hello, love, have you seen Mark Hurst? We’d like to talk to him.”

And now the story continues.

1

“Who?”

“Mark Hurst, he lives here.”

“No he doesn’t, my mum’s just rented it like from the landlord.”

“So he’s moved?”

“Who?”

“Mark Hurst!”

“Don’t know him, Should I? Ooh is he like, famous?”

The photographer mumbled something under his breath; I swear it sound like “daft bitch” or something not so savoury.

“Do you know where the landlord is?” Asked who I now supposed was Bob Ferris.

“Don’t know nothing like that–like.” I said in my best Claire cloned voice.

“Come on, Bob–waste of time here.”

Bob Ferris looked me up and down, making me feel like a piece of meat or something then he sort of grimaced at me. I took that to be a sort of a smile, but I wasn’t sure.

“Look, love, here is my card; if you hear anything about Mark Hurst, give me a tinkle; it’ll be worth your while,”

He handed me a slightly grubby business card and then they both went off down the road.

My hand was shaking slightly as I let myself in. I walked slowly upstairs and sat down heavily on the bed. I picked up my soft white bunny and cuddled her close to my chest. I was shaking and before I knew it, was crying my eyes out.

After what seemed quite an age, I stopped sobbing and went into the bathroom to wash my face. Seeing my reflection in the mirror, I looked far from pretty because my makeup had run and my eyes had the look of an upset panda.

I heard my mobile go off and I went into the lounge.

I picked it up and without thinking I pressed the green button and said, “Hello?”

“ Mark, this is Bob Ferr…”

I threw the ‘phone against the wall. I was shaking badly, was close to tears and didn’t know what to do…I took several deep breaths and went to where the ‘phone was lying. Picking it up, it was obvious that it was totally smashed and no use for anything.

I needed help–I knew that. I was fast going off the idea of becoming a professional footballer if this is what I was going to have to contend with.

I had an idea and went downstairs to the café. I had a key so I let myself in and crossed to the café window. I carefully peered out to see if the reporters had gone. There was no sign of them, so I went into the back room that Jeff used as an office and picked up the ‘phone. Dialling the number I knew so well, I heard it ringing at the other end.

“Hello?”

“Oh Jeff, something’s happened…”

I burst into tears again. Jeff could get no sense out of me but I vaguely remember telling him roughly what happened and that I was sitting in the café.

“Stay there; we’re coming over.”

The phone went dead and I just sat there in the dark.

2

It seemed like a long time, but couldn’t have been more than ten minutes; when I heard a car pull up outside. I stood up and peered around the doorframe.

I could see by the glow of the street lamp outside that it was Jeff and Josie with the twins in their buggy close behind him. With a rattle of the key in the lock, they entered, turned on the lights and came to where I was rooted to the spot–in the doorway to Jeff’s office.

Josie opened her arms and I ran to her. I cried some more–wetting her pretty cream coat, I noticed abstractedly. After a few minutes, I calmed down a bit and was taken upstairs to the flat. I sat down and was handed a mug of tea.

With them there I felt better and was able to give a more coherent account of what had happened.

“That was quick thinking on your part to tell Ferris that you didn’t know anything,” said Josie.

“I…I thought I was going to die when I went up to them with the keys in my hand. I should have twigged when I saw the photographer. Anyway, I said the first thing that came into my head. I’m sure that they thought I was an air head and a bit thick!”

Josie smiled but Jeff looked a bit annoyed to say the least.

“So that slime ball is still causing you problems,” said Jeff angrily. “Right, we’ll see about this.”

He pulled out his mobile and then used speed dial. I just sat there looking at the twins, fast asleep in their buggy. Josie was sitting next to me on the sofa, holding my hand. It was lovely to have their support and I was so glad that they were there.

I looked up as Jeff started speaking.

“Hello John? Sorry to call you at this late hour, but Mark’s being pestered by that Bob Ferris…”

In just a few words, he explained the situation to John Prentiss, missing out the bit where I was dressed as a girl and tricking Ferris earlier.

He terminated the call and put the phone back in his pocket.

“Right, Susan; John was really annoyed about this and says he’ll speak to us about it tomorrow. You are still a minor and the press and anyone else for that matter can’t treat you like this. He knows Ferris’s editor quite well–they play golf together–and he is going to ring him now. He says that you won’t get pestered again and if you do, he’ll get the law involved.”

I felt a huge sense of relief and I just ran over to him and gave him a hug.

“Oh thanks, Daddy, you’re the best.” After a moment, I realised what I called him; I stepped back a bit, looked at him and murmured, “Sorry.”

His eyes looked a bit moist. I hoped that I hadn’t upset him.

“Sorry, for what?” he asked with a slight smile playing on his lips.

“I…I…I called you Daddy.”

“I don’t mind that, you silly thing. I consider you to be as good as a daughter anyway, so does Josie. Mind you, I’m only twelve years older than you so I must have been a very young Daddy!”

I looked at Josie. She was smiling and had tears running down her cheeks for some reason.

“Have I upset you, too?”

“‘Course not. If you want to call us Mummy and Daddy, we don’t mind. We love you so much.”

I found myself in the middle of a group hug and it was lovely! They didn’t take the place of my mum, she would always be that, but I felt happier then than I had been for such a long time.

“Look,” said Josie, “Why don’t you come home with us tonight. You can sleep on the sofa or something.”

I was tempted, but my mum often called me a stubborn sod and I must admit that I don’t like to give in. “No. Thanks anyway, but I’m sure I’ll be okay. I can’t see Ferris coming back tonight and anyway, I just won’t answer the door.”

Jeff and Josie had one of those unspoken, eyebrow lifting conversations that they sometimes have. I don’t think it was telepathy.

“Look,” said Jeff, “we are not leaving you alone here tonight and that’s flat. I’ll stay the night on the sofa and we’ll see what John has been able to sort out in the morning. There are spare pillows in the cupboard from when I stayed over whilst decorating a few times, so I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, secretly somewhat relieved at not being left alone tonight.

“Very. Now, Josie, are you all right driving home?”

“Yes, dear, don’t fuss. Now, Susan, we’re going to have a girlie chat very soon about what girls should and shouldn’t do. You’re a girl now and you need to know what girls should be careful about.”

“Yes, Mummy.” I said meekly.

“And don’t you ‘yes, Mummy’ and bat your eyelashes at me, young lady, I’m immune. You might be able to wrap Jeff around your little finger, but I’m made of sterner stuff.”

She was smiling while she said it so I don’t think that she was being too serious! They smiled at each other and we all had a goodbye hug. The twins, who could probably sleep through any amount of noise up to and including a full-scale war, didn’t stir as Jeff helped Josie downstairs with the buggy.

Soon he was back and made up a bed on the sofa while I made us a milky cocoa.

We sat sipping our drinks and talking about nothing in particular. I was soon yawning and bade goodnight to my new ‘Daddy’.

“Night, love; try to get some sleep, it’s a big day tomorrow what with the signing and everything.”

My heart did a bit of a flip at that. I had almost forgotten about tomorrow; what with the reporter thingy and all that had happened today.

As I slipped under the sheets, bunny firmly in my arms, I wondered how I was going to cope with fame and whether all of the worries and lack of privacy that almost inevitably came with it was worth it.

3

Somehow, I managed to get a good night’s sleep and I woke up to Jeff tapping me gently on the shoulder and as I struggled to wake up, he gave me a hot cup of coffee.

“Come on, sleepyhead; it’s a big day today. Don’t forget to dress smartly–and I don’t mean Susan smart; you have to be Mark today.”

Jeff’s words had the effect of awakening me rather quickly and about an hour later, we were on our way. I was wearing my grey school trousers, a blue check shirt and a darker blue tie that had been given to me by my mum on my last birthday. I also wore my Melchester fleecy jacket because I thought that it was appropriate and it was also quite cold out.
I don’t like male clothing much for obvious reasons and wearing a shirt done up at the neck and being throttled by a tie was not my idea of fun. This was Jeff’s idea of my being smart. Having him as a daddy had its drawbacks and I decided that I should read the small print. As we drove along, Jeff had the radio on. It was Radio 2–that’s for oldies–I wanted Radio 1 but Jeff wouldn’t have it.

The news was the usual stuff, all doom and gloom. My ears pricked up when I heard Melchester mentioned. It turned out that Dave Buller, one of our central defenders had stubbed his toe getting out of the bath and was not available for tomorrows home game against Teddenham. It would have been funny were it not for the fact that we were so short of fit players at the moment. I smiled as I thought of the ‘we’; I felt part of the club now. Okay, I had always been a fan and loved it when we won and got miserable when we lost, but now, I was a part of the club, all be it a very small and insignificant part.

We were soon in the town centre and through the other side. Melchester’s ground was only three years old and took the place of the old one that had been off Carters Street for almost a hundred years. The old ground was small and not really suited to the modern game. I remember as a kid how run down it was and the smell in the loos–Eewww! It defied description.

I could see the tall stadium in the distance, it was nearly three times the size of the old ground and was very impressive with its three levels and state-of-the-art design. As there was no game today, we were able to park quite near the entrance and we were soon going through the impressive marble entranceway that led into the reception area. On the walls there were pictures of the great players and managers of the club, past and present. In the middle was a large bronze statue of Phil Best, the legendary player of the sixties who was now the media director of the club. I hoped that I would meet him one day as he was one of the greatest players of his generation.

We walked up to the long and impressive highly polished wooden counter that lined the whole of one wall. There were several people behind it; at one end there was a brass plaque that said ‘ENQUIRIES’ and we went over to it. I was still rubber-necking all the pictures on the walls and wasn’t really paying attention to what Jeff was saying. Was it my imagination, but were all those men in the pictures looking at me, á  la Harry Potter? Then I got a dig in the ribs.

“Mark, pay attention, mate!”

“Sorry, Daddy…Dad, erm, Jeff, what were you saying?”

I looked around and my eyes focused on the girl behind the counter. She was very pretty, with blonde hair, a lovely smile and was wearing a white blouse with the Melchers crest on the left breast pocket.

“Hello, Mark?”

“Hello,” I replied shyly.

“Okay, if you would wait over there in the reception lounge, someone will see you shortly.”

We went to the area to which she had pointed sat down on a couple of the leather seats. As we sat there, I noticed how busy, the place was. Lots of people were milling about and going up to the counter and I wondered if it was always like this. I kept looking out for some of my heroes, but I didn’t see anyone that I recognised.

A few minutes later, somebody came over–a lady wearing the same uniform as the girl behind the counter, but she was dark haired and a bit shorter. We both stood up as she approached us.

“Hello, Mark and Jeff; would you like to come this way?” She gave us a sunny smile, and then led us to some lifts; one opened just as we got there. We got in, and went up six floors. The door slid open and we went out into the carpeted hallway.

The corridors were lined with a lot of new-looking polished wood doors. We were taken to the end and then we turned left, passing even more doors to the left and right of us. At the end of the corridor the lady pushed opened the door and ushered us in. As we entered, a woman behind a desk looked up and smiled. She stood up and walked over to us.

“Hi, nice to see you both, Mr McPherson will see you now; please follow me.”

We followed her to another door; she knocked and opened it. Waving us through, we found ourselves in a much larger office, which had a panoramic window overlooking the pitch. Seated behind a huge desk was Sandy Macpherson, who stood up as we approached.

“Mark, Jeff, welcome; I’m glad you are able to make it at such short notice. Take a seat, please.”

We sat down opposite the desk and he resumed his seat.

“Right, Mark; as you know you’re here to sign your contract. We have a tradition here, that we sign the contracts in public, and so in a minute we will go down to the Media Centre and get you to sign your contract. Don’t worry, laddie, it won’t take long, and then I’ll get the personnel people to take you up to their office and get the paperwork done. Just a few words in private before we go downstairs; you are joining one of the best clubs in the country, if not the world. We have a reputation here being a good, solid, honest club. I know that you will do well here, and I have seen that you are a great prospect for the future. We have a great squad of players here and we like to look after them. If you have any worries, my door is always open; unless it’s closed, that is!” He was smiling at that, and so were we. Sandy’s wit was legendary, and I could see why all the players loved him and were so loyal.

“Okay, I haven’t much time today, what with all the injuries I have to contend with, so we’d better get this over with. Would you like to come with me and I’ll lead the way.”

We followed him out of his office and along the corridor, down a flight stairs and through some swing doors. My heart was thumping now as I realised that I would soon be a Melchester player. I didn’t expect to see anybody in the media centre, as I was a nobody and just a reserve player. It surprised me to see that there were at least 10 people sitting on some seats facing that famous desk, where all the great players signed for the club. Jeff stood at the side as I followed Sandy to the desk and sat down next to him.

I blinked slightly as a number of flashes went off. I felt myself go pale as I saw the photographer, who had been with Bob Ferris yesterday, taking photographs of me. I wondered if he recognised me and if he did, whether he would expose me. I was jerked out of my thoughts as Sandy began speaking.

“Right, gentleman, it’s nice to see you all here as I welcome Mark to our club. I know one or two of you have seen this lad play and know that he is something special. His skills on and off the ball are amazing and he will be a great asset to the club. Okay, Mark, here is a pen, would you like to sign the contract now?”

I looked down at the paper in front of me and just signed next to the pencilled cross using a fountain pen–I had never used one of these before, so it was a bit strange.

I signed to the accompaniment of flashes and the noise of cameras.

After signing, I put the pen down and looked up and noticed that John Prentiss was standing at the back of the room looking pleased with himself.

“Okay,” said Sandy, “we have time for a few questions–Alan, you first…”

A man at the front looked at me.

“Mark, how does it feel to be part of the club?”

“Erm, great. I never dreamed that I would ever be actually involved with the club. I have supported them all my life and this is–just great!”

I couldn’t help smile and that seemed to put a smile on everyone else’s faces.

“Pete?”

“Sandy, when will he be in the first team?”

“Let’s not run before we can walk. The lad needs to play a lot of football before he is even considered for the first team and I don’t want to put pressure on his shoulders–yet!”

There was a ripple of laughter at that.

“One more question…Stan?”

“Thanks, Sandy. Mark have you any heroes at the club that you would like to play alongside?”

“They are all my heroes and I just hope that I can get good enough to play with them before they all retire or leave the club!”

There was general laughter and that was it. Sandy ushered me out of a side door with Jeff and John Prentiss following closely on our heels.

We went into another room, I think it was conference room and sat down around a large table.

“Okay,” said Mr McPherson, “It’s true what I said in there, I don’t have much time, so just a quick word, Mark. I want you to know that all the staff here,–players, training staff and others–are part of the family. We all want to help where we can if you have any problems. You are still very young and you are going to be pestered by the media, trying to find out more about you and also to get an inside track on everything that happens in the club. There is a clause in your contract that says that you must not divulge anything about the club without our permission and I would ask you to honour that. Anyway, enough of that nonsense; once again welcome to the club. I’ll get Sarah from HR to pop down to see you. It will save you some time.”

He stood up and shook my hand and after a quick handshake with Jeff and John, he was gone.

Jeff and John poured over the contract while I drank a coke from a handy vending machine. My brain had gone into overload and I don’t think that I could take much more in.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door and a woman walked in.

“Hello, I’m Sarah McIntosh from HR. Mark, hi there; we need to go through a few things…”

John looked at Jeff.

“Jeff, we can leave all this to Mark and Sarah, do you want to have a look around?”

“Will you be okay, Mark?”

I nodded. With that they left me to chat to Sarah.

“Right, Mark; I know how heavy all this can be so I’ll keep it short and sweet. All I’m going to say is in the welcome pack which I’ll give you before I go. Here is your pass for the stadium and training ground. Show this every time, or you won’t get in. Even the senior players and the management have to have these so please don’t lose it. If you do, let me know immediately. One prat of a player left his in a taxi and it was on sale on eBay three days later; enough said on that one. Unless you’re injured, playing in a reserve or other game or have a good excuse, you are expected to come to every home game and sit behind the dugout. There are good reasons for this, the main one being that you get to be part of the team and being part of the team makes you more involved–even if you’re not playing. You’re expected to wear the corporate clothes at games, like the trackies or on special days like cup finals the club suit. Everything you need will be sent to you by courier and should arrive at your home tomorrow in time for the game.”

“Do I come here tomorrow then?”

“Yes, just come to reception about an hour from kick-off and we’ll sort you out. Just wear the stuff we provide for you. Between you and me, one of the main reasons why we insist on the clothing is because it’s all sponsored and the sponsors love to have their name plastered all over the place including all the players and most of the backroom staff. Is all that fairly clear?”

I just nodded.

“God, you are so young and pretty…I mean handsome…sorry about that, as you get older, even policemen look young.”

“You’re not old!”

‘I love you already, you flatterer. If I was 15 years younger…ah well never mind. Right, back to business; because of your age, you have an additional pass for your father, so he can come with you and help keep you out of trouble; is that okay?”

“Yes, Jeff, I mean Dad will like that.”

“Good, well here’s your information pack, the clothes and stuff will be with you by nine tomorrow morning. If you have any problems just go to reception and ask for me. This place is so bloody big, you’ll get lost without directions; any questions?”

“Are the reserves playing tomorrow?”

‘Yes, but they have already left for New Heston, up north, so they will stay in a hotel and then come home tomorrow night. It was too much hassle to send you after them, so the powers that be decided that it wouldn’t do you any harm to stay down here and get used to the atmosphere of a big match. Right, I’ll let you go and I think that we should find your dad and John Prentiss in the reception area…”

As Jeff drove me home, he was enthusing about his tour of the stadium and trophy room. When I told him about his pass, I could see he was well pleased! He dropped me off and promised see me tomorrow. The café would be open in the morning, when all the teams were playing in the fields opposite and then he would shut up a bit early so that we could get to the ground in good time. Luckily, after twelve it got very quiet in the café, so he wouldn’t lose much–if any money, by doing this.

I let myself into the flat and quickly went back into girlie mode by stripping of the hated boys clothes and changing into a denim skirt and pink cotton blouse. A quick slap on of war paint and a brush through my hair and I was Wonder Woman again…well Wonder Susan, anyway!

I fired up the laptop and saw that I had an email from, like Claire.

It said:

‘Hi Susan, how did it go; are you famous, can I get your autograph?

‘Seriously, I hope that it went okay. Would you like to go to the flicks tonight or are you too knackered? There’s a chick flick on at the Playhouse and it’s supposed to be a scream. It’s on at seven so we need to be down there by half six. My mum will take us and pick us up. She has this weird thing about young girls and public transport at night. She gave me a right earful after she found out that we used the bus last night! Anyway if you can come, just reply to the email or text me.

‘By-ee!

Claire.’

I was a bit tired, but thought that it would be good to go out and forget about real life for a change, so I replied to the email saying yes I would go and then I texted Josie from my computer, just to let her know what my movements would be…she could could be a bit of a worrier and after all that had happened I thought that it would be good to let her know.
I had just finished applying my lippy when I heard the door bell: it was a couple of minutes past six. I looked out of the window cautiously and saw Claire down below, so I picked up my shoulder bag, checked in the mirror for stray hairs, put on my coat and skipped downstairs. I left the lights on, because I was still in my insecure mode and anyway, who wants to come home to a darkened flat?

“Hi, Claire.” I chirped as we hugged and then got into her mum’s car.
“Thanks for taking us, Mrs Creasey.” I said to Claire’s mum as we drove off.

“That’s all right, love,” she replied, “Why aren’t you so polite, Claire?”

“Oh like, Muuuuum, don’t embarrass me in front of friends!”

“That’s a mum’s job.”

Claire and I exchanged glances and her eyes went up. We had a giggle and soon we were talking about clothes and boys. I was a bit uncomfortable with that as I didn’t know which way I leaned yet, but I think I gave a good account of myself.

Soon we were at the cinema and as we said goodbye to Mrs Creasy, we confirmed that the film finished at 10 o’clock and we promised to wait in the foyer and not talk to any strange men.

We got some coke and popcorn and I nearly fainted when I saw the prices. What a rip-off!

The film was Mamma Mia! and it was great because everyone started singing–even me! After the film we waited in the foyer for Mrs Creasy and a couple of spotty teenagers came over and tried to chat us up. They loved themselves and obviously thought that they were the bee’s knees and sex on legs. Claire and I looked at each other, I grabbed her hand and looked lovingly into her eyes and then turned to the boys.

“We don’t like men and you are not even that!”

They looked at us as if we had some sort of disease and then slunked or is that slinked? or even slank away? leaving us in tears of laughter.

It was funny, I was quiet when I was in boy mode and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself unless I was on a football pitch, of course. But as Susan, I was more outgoing and I suppose happy and maybe fun to be with?

We saw Claire’s mum come into the foyer, and still giggling, we went over to her. She smiled as she saw us.

“Good film?”

“Yes,” answered Claire,” It was like, great!”

It being rather late, Claire’s mum didn’t hang around after dropping me off. I said goodbye and promised to email Claire tomorrow and after ensuring that I had let myself into the flat without being accosted by anyone, Mrs Creasey left, with Claire waving to me as they sped off.

It took a few minutes to remove my makeup, get undressed and into my long silky nightie, make some cocoa to help me sleep and snuggle up with my rabbit in my nice comfy bed. I read my girlie magazine as I sipped my hot drink and soon found myself dozing off. I finished my drink, turned the light and was soon in the land of nod.

4

By some sort of miracle, I woke up early the next morning. I didn’t fancy a run as I was still tired from yesterday. I had forgotten to take my iron pills so I tied a mental knot in my head to try and remember to take a double dose with my cornflakes. It was strange not to wake up to the sound of that flaming frog and I realised that I would have to get myself a new phone. I also remembered that I had made a bit of a dent in the wall where the phone had hit. I would have to tell Jeff about that, apologise and pay for the damage.

I got up, slipped off my nightie, had a quick shower, put on my pink dressing gown and then sat down to eat breakfast. I had plenty of time for once so I didn’t have to clock-watch too much.

I took my pills, washing them down with some orange juice, and then I turned on the radio.

After the gloomy news, the sports section was quite interesting. Paul Davis was the so called expert on football and he was banging out his usual drivel.

“It seems that Melchester are going to get a hammering today, they are at home to their arch rivals, Teddenham and their squad, already depleted by a number of injuries and the flu that is going around are also without their ace midfielder Lugia, who has had to go home for personal reasons. Teddenham, who are third in the table, will go to Melchester on the back of three straight away wins. Melchester have had an indifferent season due to injuries and they have little hopes of challenging for the title or the cups this year…”

I switched off the radio as I didn’t want to hear any more of that drivel. Looking at the time, I realised that I needed to get dressed as I expected the courier to arrive soon ad I didn’t really want to go to answer the door wearing a pink dressing gown!

I had only just finished putting some socks on when the door bell rang. Looking out of the window, I saw a yellow van–it was the courier.

As soon as I was downstairs, I opened the door.

“Hello, mate, here’s yer parcel.”

I signed the sheet, took the bulky package and said, “thanks.” Closing the door, I went upstairs and put the parcel on the bed.

There was an envelope on the top of the parcel and I opened that first.

It was a list of all the items inside There were 2 track suits, 4 pairs of shorts, 3 pairs of trainers, football boots and various other bits and pieces. I wondered how they knew my sizes but I assumed they got the measurements when I had the medical. There was also a note to tell me to wear the tracksuit, t-shirt, socks and trainers provided.

I tore open the parcel sorted the stuff out that I was to wear today. I dressed quickly and looked at myself in the mirror. I had seen girls on match days wearing similar stuff, so I had no qualms wearing the kit. I fleetingly wondered what it would be like to play football with big breasts–well bigger than mine anyway–as I had no wish to be a Dolly Parton clone. I looked at the clock. Jeff would want to be leaving soon!

I made the bed, tidied up a bit and then washed up the breakfast things. I then picked up my keys and wallet and went downstairs to the café.

There were only a few people eating late breakfasts in there and after saying, “Hi,” to Jeff, I cleared the tables and did a bit of washing up. The last stragglers left and Jeff closed up the shop.

We sat down and had a cuppa. Jeff was looking me over.

“Su…Mark, you might want to give your face a bit of a wash, there’s some mascara still on your lashes.”

“Oh!” I cried as I rushed into the toilet and saw that I hadn’t been very good at taking my makeup off last night!

I scrubbed my face until it was pink and, after another inspection, I was pronounced okay to go out into the world by my daddy.

As we drove to the ground, Jeff filled me in on a few things.

“That Bob Ferris won’t trouble you anymore. John Prentiss has had a word with his boss and has pulled the story.”

“That’s great!” I exclaimed.

“So today we can enjoy watching the game in peace.”

As we drove along, I kept on humming Mamma! Mia to myself. I couldn’t get that tune out of my head.

Long before we reached the ground my excitement levels were going through the roof. I was going to sit behind the dugout and I might actually talk to some of the players. Jeff had a sticker in the corner of the windscreen giving the car access to the staff car park. No more trying to find a parking space. I felt quite important as we were waved through by the burly security guard. We were quite early, so the car park was only a quarter full. We parked and made our way to reception. The same lady that was there yesterday greeted us and we were shown into a sort of private reception area. There were only a few people about, sitting in lounge chairs and drinking coffee and stuff. I didn’t fancy that so when someone came over and asked what I wanted to drink, I just had a coke and Jeff had a coffee.

The reception room overlooked the pitch where some of the players were warming up and stretching. The ground had begun to fill and I could see that soon it would be full of cheering, chanting fans. The grass looked very green and was in a very good condition considering we were half way through the season. I wondered if I would ever play on that pitch. Maybe in a year or two, but for now I was just going to enjoy ‘now’.

About half an hour before the match started, we made our way down to the seats. We got lost a few times as I had not been to this part of the stadium before. We were wearing our passes around our necks on thin chains and it was nice to see how many people said, ‘hello and welcome to the club.’ It was true what people said; this was a friendly club. A man wearing a jacket with the Melchester badge showed us where to sit and in a few seconds we were settling down and watching everything happening on and off the pitch. The players were finishing off their warm ups and were heading back down the tunnel. A couple who I had played with in the training matches noticed me and smiled. One player Walter Indongo, a midfielder didn’t look too happy as he was limping slightly and the physio, John Smart, was walking beside him looking a bit anxious. I hoped it wasn’t yet another injury!

The ground was filling up rapidly and it looked like it was going to be a sell-out. The chanting had started over to the left where the hard core of our singers were and then there was a counter chant, much smaller to my right where the Teddenham fans were.

Although this was a relatively new stadium, it had loads of atmosphere and it was already getting very noisy.

I was pointing out to Jeff where the media centre was and the camera positions, when a man came over to us. He was wearing a Melchester jacket and looked a bit worried.

“Mark Hurst?”

I nodded.

“Can you come with me, you are wanted.”

“Can my dad come?” I asked.

“I haven’t been told about that. If we need him we’ll send a message.”

I looked at Jeff.

“Will you be okay?”

“Yes, fine, just come and get me if you want me. Perhaps you’re going to be introduced to the players?”

The man didn’t seem to know anything and was obviously just the messenger.

“That would be great!” I replied enthusiastically.

I followed the man and soon found myself in a small room near where the changing rooms were. He asked me to wait and I sat down on one of the plastic seats.

Looking up at the sound of the door opening, I stood as I saw Mr McPherson enter.

“Sit ye down, laddie, we need to talk.”

Mystified, I sat down as he paced the room, he looked worried.

“Mark, we have an injury crisis as you know. By fluke of fate, the reserve team are playing today so I can’t use any of them. Two players have pulled out of the squad due to that damn flue and Walter Indongo has just injured himself warming up. I have contacted the league and told them of the situation that we don’t have enough players to have a full team with substitutes. They have powers in place for emergencies like this and I have been allowed to put you on the subs bench.

“But I have only just signed; am I eligible to play?”

“Yes, you signed officially yesterday, but as soon as you agreed to join us, we got your registration fast tracked. We always do that for all players. It’s easy enough to de-register if things go wrong and you don’t join us. Anyway, are you up for it; are you going to be one of the subs?”

My heart was pounding. I wasn’t expecting this. Even I knew that Mr McPherson’s request was really an order. I had signed up and I had to do as I was told, even if I wasn’t ready.

I nodded.

“Good lad, now let’s go and get you changed.”

The other players had gone out onto the pitch and the plush wood and marble changing room was empty apart from one man who was laying out a football kit over in the corner.

“Okay, Bill, I’ll leave young Mark here. Could you give him a hand while I go out and get things sorted?”

“Yes, Boss, I’ll look after him.”

With a pat on the back that would have knocked my false teeth out, if I had any, Mr McPherson left the changing room in a hurry.

“Right, son, here’s your kit. Get changed as quick as you can.”

In a bit of a daze, I took off my track suit and changed into the Melchester kit. As I did up the laces of my boots, I kept on fluffing it and in the end, Bill did it for me.

“Bit “Roy of The Rovers”, this, init?” said Bill.

“Who?” I replied distractedly.

“Before your time, I ’spect. Okay, that’s your boots. Better put your track suit back on, it can be bloody cold sitting in the dugout.”

I was on auto pilot as I finished dressing and then was led out of the dressing room, up the tunnel and into the dugout. The noise was deafening and I could see a lot of fans staring at me, wondering who the hell this young, small kid was. Was I a mascot? I could almost hear the cogs in their brains whirring. I imagined that sixty thousand people in the stadium were all looking at me, not to mention the millions who watched the match on their TVs. I saw Jeff sitting a few rows back, his jaw had dropped and he looked a bit like a fish. It must have been nerves, but I nearly giggled then, but professional footballers don’t giggle, do they?

To be continued...

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

I looked around me, people were pointing at me and I could definitely hear ‘who the hell is that kid?’ from behind me and then I stifled another nervous giggle when I heard a high pitched voice say, ‘Daddy, why can’t I sit in the dugout like that boy?’

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 8

Previously...

‘Right, son, here’s your kit. Get changed as quickly as you can.’

In a bit of a daze, I took off my track suit and changed into the Melchester kit. As I did up the laces of my boots, I kept on fluffing it and in the end, Bill did it for me.

‘Bit  “Roy of The Rovers” this, init?’ said Bill.

‘Who?’ I replied distractedly.

‘Before your time, I ’spect. Okay, that’s your boots. Better put your track suit back on, it can be bloody cold sitting in the dugout’

I was on auto pilot as I finished dressing and then was led out of the dressing room, up the tunnel and into the dugout. The noise was deafening and I could see a lot of fans staring at me, wondering who the hell this young, small kid was. Was I a mascot? I could almost hear the cogs in their brains whirring. I imagined that sixty thousand people in the stadium were all looking at me, not to mention the millions who watched the match on their TVs. I saw Jeff sitting a few rows back, his jaw had dropped and he looked a bit like a fish. It must have been nerves, but I nearly giggled then, but professional footballers don’t giggle, do they?

And now the story continues.

I looked around me, people were pointing at me and I could definitely hear ‘who the hell is that kid?’ from behind me and then I stifled another nervous giggle when I heard a high pitched voice say, ‘Daddy, why can’t I sit in the dugout like that boy?’

I was brought back to reality when I heard a voice coming from my right. Looking up as I was spoken to, I could see the craggy line face of The Boss looking down at me. He didn’t look pleased..

‘What the hell are you doing here? Can’t yer see the other players warming up on the pitch? Get out there and do some warm ups and kick a ball around. Yer need to get a feel for the pitch.’

I was out of there like a scalded cat and I found myself walking on the hallowed turf. Feeling the weight of the obvious stares kind of slightly freaked me out and I remembered that I had once as a treat, been here on one of those stadium tours. Some officials showed us around the place. The last thing we did was to go pitch side. There were notices in front of us saying that we would be ejected if we dared put a foot on the pitch.

Yet here I was, running on the pitch and I wasn’t getting chucked out for doing it!

I went over to the right where our players were warming up. The captain for the day, Petre Ogsood came over.

‘Hi, Mark,’ he said, his voice warm, ‘I bet you’re surprised to be here?

‘Just a bit,’ I replied with a nervous smile.

‘Well the boss told us that you were to be a sub today, due to the injuries. You’ve played with one or two of the lads and they know you’re good. So just enjoy it as I doubt if you’ll be called in to play; okay?’

I just nodded and he kicked a ball to me.

Soon I was warming up, kicking balls to the other players, generally working up a sweat and shooting the ball towards the goal. I sliced a practice shot and it ended up by the corner flag, so I wasn’t obviously showing any talent!

A couple of the players said ‘hello,’ and others just patted me on the back as we continued the warm up. Everyone was being nice and I tried to ignore the fact that 60,000 people were watching me and probably millions of others on the TV too–easy–not!

A few minutes later, I was back in the dugout with the other reserves, wiping my face with a towel and drinking water out of a bottle. I was glad to be out of the limelight and back in the relative safety of the dugout. I looked behind me and saw Jeff. He put up his thumb and had a great big grin on his face. I think that he was enjoying this a lot more than me! I was just glad that it was highly unlikely that I would be used–being so green and new–I was just here to make up the numbers, obviously.

There was a roar from the crowd as the two teams came out onto the pitch, side by side. Each player was holding the hand of a young supporter as they went onto the pitch. After lining up at the centre circle, Petre, our captain followed by the rest of our players shook the hands of the Teddenham team.

As that was going on, the announcer was naming each member of our team to the roar of the crowd as the players was named. He then went through the reserves and all of the names were greeted with roars of approval. To my horror I heard ‘Mark Hurst.’ And I heard a muted cheer and a lot of ‘Who?’ like noises. It wasn’t exactly giving my confidence a boost!

On each side of me were two other reserves, the keeper Ivan Gloshter, Mike Philber, to the left and Daniel Schmitt, and the Brazilian, Lepe to the right. With smiles, nods of welcome and stinging slaps on the back, I was welcomed to the squad bench.

There was a slight hush and then the whistle went.

You couldn’t say it was pretty; Teddenham had come for a draw or so that seemed to me as they packed their defence and barely made their way past the half way line for the first twenty minutes.

We were all over them like a rash and had several shots, both on and off target. Then Mike Turner, one of our best midfielders was chopped down by Smith, a Teddenham fullback with a reputation for being a nasty piece of work. How he wasn’t sent off, I’ll never know but he just got a yellow card.

The Boss was on his feet with the rest of the management team and all us reserves, screaming at the ref, linesmen, league officials and everyone else about the decision not to send off Smith.

Our physio, who happened to be the club doctor, rushed on and it was clear, after a few minutes that we had yet another serious injury. On top of that, another of our players, left back Nigerian international, Desmond Etoo was limping badly.

In a few moments, there were only three subs left on the bench, Daniel Schmitt, the goal keeper Ivan Gloshter and little me! I was getting a bad feeling about this.

The game continued and we had more than enough chances to put the game out of the reach of the defensive Teddenham.

Then it happened. We had a corner; both teams packed the goal area, the ball came sailing through a sea of players and their centre half climbed up the back of one of our players, an obvious foul ignored by the ref, and headed it out towards the centre circle. It just happened to land at the feet of the only Teddenham player who was up field–it was the league’s top scorer Owen Michaels. He raced up the field with players from both teams chasing after him. Our keeper threw himself at the ball just inside the penalty area, somehow got his arms on the ball and one of Michael’s legs.

‘PENALTY!’ shouted the Teddenham team and their 10,000 supporters. Michaels was making a meal of it by writhing about on the ground as though he had a fatal injury.

‘********’ and other choice words were shouted by everyone else except me, cos I’m nice and don’t use that sort of language.

It was inevitable that our keeper would be given a red card and Ivan Gloshter was sent on in his place.

Michaels then made a “miraculous” recovery, grabbed the ball and placed it on the penalty spot. I couldn’t look as he took the penalty. Ivan hadn’t had a chance to warm up and against the deadliest striker in the league, he had no chance.

So, we were 1-0 down and with only ten men on the pitch. I looked at Daniel Schmitt and he just shook his head. We both knew that this was going to be a long hard afternoon.

Teddenham did the inevitable, and didn’t bother having anyone up field. They had their goal and they were going to keep up the advantage by not giving anything away. The game went to half time with no change in the score. We tried our best to pierce their defence, but apart from a few off-target shots, we were not able to make much impression. The crowd was restless and I heard a few ‘wot a load of rubbish,’ chants coming from some of our so-called fans.

Half time came and went and after an ineffectual fifteen minutes, the boss put Schmitt on the pitch. I was kind of glad it wasn’t me, as I knew I would make a fool of myself. I just felt like going home, putting on my best nightie and going to bed with my cuddly rabbit–some professional footballer I make!

Then they scored.

We had been pressing hard up in the final third of the field and we were caught by another breakaway. This time Michaels passed the ball to his partner in crime, Godalot, the Rumanian international, who after three years playing for Teddenham, still couldn’t speak more than a couple of words of English. He let his football do the talking as Michaels managed to flight a ball directly to his head and the ball went sailing over poor Gloshter’s head and into the net.

The Teddenham crowd went mad and our supporters chanted a few choice words back at them about parentage and stuff like that.

Mr McPherson came over to me and shouted, ‘Go run up and down the pitch a bit. You have two minutes.’

‘Me?’ I said; my mouth dropping through the floor.

‘Yes you; get going.’

‘I’m only 15.’

‘I don’t care if you’re six and a half, get out there!’

‘Shit.’ I thought, forgetting how nice I was for once.

I got out of the dugout and ran up and down the side line, I stretched as much as I could and was lucky in that I wasn’t too knotted up. As I passed the dugout for the third time, I was called in and I took off my trackies. All the time, the Boss was giving me instructions as to how and where I should play. Somehow, I didn’t seem to take in all what he was saying as I had a severe case of nerves.

Soon I was on the pitch and replacing one of our players, I hadn’t a clue who he was at that point as I was too taken up with stage fright to notice. I was still kind of hoping that this was a nightmare and that I’d wake up any minute tucked up in my bed , sighing with relief that it wasn’t real. It was okay talking about playing at the highest level, but the reality of it was terrifying.

Pulling myself together, I vaguely remembered where I was supposed to play, midfield on the right hand side–I was to get the ball as much as possible and make a bit of mischief–some hope of that!

It was strange standing on the pitch with the game going on around me. It was unreal, the stuff of nightmares if it went wrong.

The ball came to me, I hesitated and it was whipped away from me and I was shoved over as well. The whistle went and I had the ball. Somehow all the team apart from the goalkeeper was up around the box and I was expected to do something. Why the hell was I given the ball?

Smith, the Teddenham player who fouled me came up to me.

‘Go home to mummy, son and leave the game to the big boys.’

He smirked at his own subtle joke and ran off toward the goal.

Now I didn’t like that ’cause it wasn’t friendly. I was annoyed to say the least and that annoyance helped me to almost forget where I was and the fact that I was the centre of attention.

Placing the ball carefully on the pitch, I looked up briefly and then decided to aim for the near post, not the far one where everyone expected it to go. I could see Peter Martins, one of our forwards was lurking over on that side and he didn’t look very well marked. I kicked the ball and prayed that it would go where I wanted. The crowd was strangely quiet as it went straight as an arrow towards Peter. I had miscalculated slightly as the ball swerved towards the goal at the last second and it hit the crossbar, coming out to Peter who hit it sweetly on the volley. The goalie had little chance as the ball just missed his fingertips as he dived desperately to his left.

GOAL!

In seconds, I was surrounded by players who nearly knocked me out in the excitement, but we didn’t have too much time for kissing and cuddling as we had less than ten minutes to play.

After the goal, I settled down. It was as if a safety valve had released my worries and emotions and I actually started to enjoy myself and not get too hung up on who was watching me.

We kept pressing and Teddenham was on the back foot. They got desperate and brought one of our players down resulting in a penalty that our captain converted.

It was now 2-2 with less than four minutes to play plus extra time.

It was getting brutal as several of our players, including me were brought down, resulting in three yellows for Teddenham and one for Ogsood for retaliation.

I was passed the ball near the centre spot and managed to jink through several players before shooting hard at the goal. It was only a fantastic save by the keeper that stopped me scoring. I could hear the groans from our supporters and the cheers from the Teddenham mob at that wonderful save.

Ogsood came over and shouted in my ear.

‘Hear them?’

For a second I wasn’t sure what he was saying then I heard the crowd.

‘Markey —Markey Hurst.’

I went all goose bump like over that and I’m sure that my face must have been as red as the flapping corner flags. But there was no time for all that as the game went on at a furious pace.

We had three corners in as many minutes, none of them giving us the goal we so desperately needed and then the ninety minutes were up. There was just two minutes of extra time to play. We were playing well and Teddenham were hanging on for dear life, trying to protect the one point that they expected to get for drawing the game. Once again the ball found itself at my feet. I nutmegged one of their defenders, stepped over another–the ball clung to my feet like superglue and I sprinted towards the goal. I looked up once, conscious of heavy breathing coming close up behind me, then let rip before I had my legs unsurgically removed by the less than friendly defender.

The goalkeeper made a mistake, He went one way and the ball went the other. It hit his rear end and richoched into the net. It took three hours for the powers that be to award the goal to me, although from where I was standing it was going in anyway!

The whistle went and we had won!

Several hours later, I was in bed with my cocoa and my rabbit firmly in my arms as I recalled one of the best days of my life.

At the time, I didn’t take it all in; the congratulations of my team mates and the manager. The after match interview where I answered a few question, but can’t quite remember what I said. Jeff’s expression when he saw me and gave me a big hug was great to see. Another fantastic moment was when I was told that I was now in the first team squad and that I would have my contract amended. I was going to be seriously rich in a short space of time, but the figures didn’t matter as much to me as the fact that I was now officially the youngest ever premier league player and the youngest to score a goal, even though it was off the keepers bum!

I had been told to go back to the club on Monday to have a chat about my future and my agent and Jeff were going to be there too. Things were going to change for me now that I was in the public eye and I wasn’t sure that these changes were going to all be nice.

I had been given another mobile phone to replace the one that got smashed and I had given the number to Claire and a few others. I just hoped that the number wasn’t leaked to undesirables.

The thought of Claire reminded me that I had promised to ring her when I got back from the match but I was so tired, I couldn’t be bothered. Anyway I had promised to meet her at the shopping centre at ten am tomorrow, so I would tell her everything then–like! I would be going as Susan, so no one would recognise me, I hoped.

I woke up with a start; my new phone was beeping at me. At least it wasn’t that horrible froggy tune!

My cup was on the bed and I realised that I hadn’t even turned the light off last night. I must have been really tired. Picking up the cup, which luckily hadn’t spilled any cocoa on my lovely pink duvet, I put it on the bedside table and then yawning hugely, got out of bed and went for a wee.

Hitching up my nightie, I winced slightly as my warm botty connected with the cold plastic seat.

As I sat there, I rubbed my nipples absent mindedly; they were a bit tender, probably due to joggers nipple or something.

‘I’ll have to get some ointment for that.’ I thought.

After doing the necessary, I had a quick shower and then blow dried my hair. This was taking longer and longer as it grew out into a more girl like length.

Eventually, I put on my silky wrap and went into the kitchen for some breakfast.

I was still yawning as I ate my cornflakes and glanced at the clock…8.45!

Finishing my breakfast in record time, I went over to the closet to decide the thorny question that has plagued women for centuries–what to wear?

My phone beeped at me again, distracting me from my important task.

When I picked it up, I noticed that I had no less than 4 messages on it, all from Claire.

The first said ‘ring me’, the second ‘RING ME’, and the third said, ‘RING ME NOW!’

The final one sort of made me think that Claire wanted a word as it said, ‘PLEEEEAAASE RING ME YOU DOZY COW!’

So I rang her.

‘Hi, Claire.’

‘Where have you been, what are you doing, have you seen the news; Oh-My-God, like, I know someone famous.’

‘Claire.’

‘What, I mean I never knew that…’

CLAIRE!’

‘What, like I mean, WHAT!’

‘Take a chill pill and tell me what are you going on about?’

‘Didn’t you see match of the day last night; or the news–local and national–anything?’

‘No I was too knackered.’

‘Knackered; you are a celeb, girl. They think that you are the best thing to hit football for years. I didn’t realise this was so big when I… hang on I’ve got mums paper here. LOOK, I mean listen to this, ‘Young Mark Hurst came on to the scene and changed the face of football. Don’t underestimate the impact of the fifteen minutes he played for Melchester. Mark is only 15 years old but played like a veteran of 100 England caps.’ There’s a lot more and your picture is all over the back page.’

‘I don’t understand; I was only on for fifteen minutes and I got lucky, that’s all.’

‘Yea, but I like sat and watched it; as soon as you came on, the team sort of like lifted itself and it was like another game like. You are a star and no matter what you say, you are gonna get serious and I mean seriously famous.’

I didn’t like this. How could this be happening? I knew that if things went well, I would get some media attention, but this? Claire was talking–well gabbling really.

‘Claire.’ I interrupted.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know if I can take being famous and being recognised.’

‘I like thought about that. You want to be Susan, don’t you?’

‘Yea.’

When that slime ball reporter saw you outside your place he didn’t recognise you as Mark, did he?’

‘No.’

‘Well that’s it. You can be Susan anytime you want to go out and like no one will twig who you are.’

‘I don’t know…’

‘Look, you want like, a private life don’t you, where you can enjoy yourself and not worry about being mobbed by your adoring fans.’

‘Don’t be silly no one can be a fan of mine after 15 minutes of football!’

‘Wanna bet? There’s already a fans web page up; I’ve seen it and someone has started a facebook page too.’

‘Sh…!’

‘Don’t swear, it’s like naughty.’

‘I’ll ring you back.’ I said, putting down the phone.

Putting on the TV, I caught the end of the local sports news. My face was staring back at me. Then they showed a few clips of the game, including the goal. Switching off the TV, I fired up my laptop. I searched my name in Google and came up with a ton of hits; Some of them were referring to other people, but a disturbing number were about me. On the top of the list was markhurstfans.co.uk/ I didn’t want to look at it as it was too creepy for words. I switched off the laptop and lay back down on the bed.

My mobile went off and I picked it up, it was Jeff.

‘Hi, Jeff,’ I said hearing the quavery sound in my voice.

‘Hi, kid, I think we have a few problems we need to talk about. Have you seen the news and papers?’

I explained my conversation with Claire and what I had seen on TV and the net.’

‘Claire might be right, you know. If you are Susan in your private life, you might get a bit of privacy, but it depends on where you want to go with this. Mind you, if you were found out, the excrement would hit the fan. Look I’m coming over with Josie and the kids to the café. We’ll talk then, okay?’

‘’Kay.’

‘We’ll work it out, but one thing is certain.’

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s going to be interesting.’

I said goodbye and then on auto pilot, I finished dressing. After slapping on the makeup and lippy, all I could see was Susan staring at me from the mirror. It looked like I was going to have to make a decision about my life sooner than I thought. Could I be Susan and Mark and did I want that? Do I want to be a pro footballer if it meant going through my life under a spotlight?

Too many questions and not enough answers.

To be continued...

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

Gazing out of the window, I could see some boys playing football on one of the pitches in the distance. In a way I envied them because they could be just themselves and enjoy playing the game.

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 9

Previously...

“Claire might be right, you know. If you are Susan in your private life, you might get a bit of privacy, but it depends on where you want to go with this. Mind you, if you were found out, the excrement would hit the fan. Look I’m coming over with Josie and the kids to the café. We’ll talk then, okay?”

“’Kay.”

“We’ll work it out, but one thing is certain.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s going to be interesting.”

I said goodbye and then on auto pilot, I finished dressing. After slapping on the makeup and lippy, all I could see was Susan staring at me from the mirror. It looked like I was going to have to make a decision about my life sooner than I thought. Could I be Susan and Mark and did I want that? Do I want to be a pro footballer if it meant going through my life under a spotlight?

Too many questions and not enough answers.

And now the story continues…

Gazing out of the window, I could see some boys playing football on one of the pitches in the distance. In a way I envied them because they could be just themselves and enjoy playing the game. They hadn’t been picked out of obscurity and put on the centre stage like I had. I knew that I was different and that it was that difference that had put me where I was today. I loved my football but I loved being Susan too. How could I keep my privacy and live my two dreams, to be the best footballer that I could be and the girl that I knew I was inside? Could the two be compatible in any way?

I looked in the mirror and brushed my hair. Seeing my reflection I smiled slightly and sighed. So many things had happened in such a small space of time but one thing was sure, I liked the girl smiling at me in the mirror.

I suppose I lacked the confidence needed to be really sure of what I was doing and where I wanted to go with this. I knew I would have to be strong because very soon I would have to make tough decisions about my life.

I wanted to speak to mum about all of this so much, but she was still going through the heartache and trauma that had made her go and stay with Auntie Pat in Scotland and I didn’t want to add to her problems.

Hearing the doorbell ring, I went downstairs. Opening the door, I smiled as Josie gave me a big, “Hi,” and a hug. Jeff closely followed behind struggling with the twins and he gave me the same, rather nice, treatment. Soon we were sitting, me with a coke and Josie and Jeff with the inevitable cups of tea. The twins were zonked out in their buggy so we were able to talk without the usual screaming.

“That’s a nice top, Susan,” said Josie.

“Mm, got it at Primark, special offer two for the price of one, the other one is pink and has a lovely…”

“If you two girls can stop talking fashion for a few minutes, we need to discuss tactics.”

“I wish you wouldn’t always talk in football terms, Jeff; use English, please.”

“At least I don’t get all gooey eyed talking about the last thing I bought in the shops...”

I coughed gently at my lovely foster parents and they managed to look a bit sheepish. Jeff got back on track.

“Look, Susan, it was a marvellous day yesterday but because of that, things are now a bit different.”

“Yeah, but I really don’t know what to do.”

“That’s why we’re here–to help you decide. First, I have to ask it, and I’m sorry if I upset you but we need to know.”

“Know what?”

“Do you want to be a professional footballer and a girl and which is more important to you?”

Looking at them both, I understood that they were concerned for me.

“I…I’ve thought about it a lot. It was all a bit of a dream yesterday–a bit Roy of the Rovers, as the man in the dressing room told me. I didn’t know what he was really talking about at the time and then I looked on the ’net this morning and knew what he meant. The funny thing was I then thought that I was more like Susan of United but knew that other people might find that a bit peculiar. After all, how many girls play professional football?

“In other countries like the USA, I believe that they have professional players but only for all-girls teams; no mixed teams, I think,” replied Jeff.

I sipped my cola, the cold drink fizzing down my throat as I tried to put my thoughts together.

“You see, I want to be both. In secret I want to be Susan and in public I want to be Mark. I’m still too young to finally choose between Mark and Susan, even though I know in my heart of hearts that I am more girl than boy. If I have the operation and everything and I am wrong, there’s no turning back. Do you know what I mean?”

They both nodded and then Josie spoke up. “So let’s get this clear, you want to be Mark when you have to be and Susan when you can be?”

I puzzled over that for a moment and then realised that it was exactly how I wanted it to be so I just nodded.

“So we need to talk about how we can achieve that,” said Jeff. “There is one thing I’m certain about; that Mr Prentiss needs to know the score. Then, if your secret were to come out, he would hopefully know how to handle it; do you agree?”

I nodded. “You’re right, it’s only fair. We do need to talk to him–and quickly; but the more people who know about this, the more chances of my being exposed.”

“Mmm,” said Josie, “also remember, Mr Prentiss and the club are probably going to have contracts, advertising and other monetary things tied into you as a footballer and it’s only fair that we should talk to him in case people might lose out financially.”

It was so complicated. Now, I was not only worried about me, but everyone else as well!

“I’m going to ring him now.” said Jeff,

He went into the bedroom, leaving me with Josie, who tried to take my mind off my troubles by suggesting doing different things with my hair. It wasn’t very long yet, but she felt that in expert hands, they could make it look very pretty.

“If I went to a salon, would I need an anaesthetic?”

“Probably.”

We both giggled.

She was changing my parting and back combing my fine hair when Jeff returned. We both looked up as he walked over.

“He is coming around here. I just told him that you have a problem that needs sorting out before the meeting.”

“D–did you tell him?”

“No, I said that we’ll talk about it when he comes. He’ll be here in about half an hour. Do you want to stay as you are or do you want to change?”

“Into boy stuff?”

He nodded.

I looked at Josie who just shrugged and said, “It’s up to you, love.”

“I–I’ll change, then it won’t be too much of a shock for him.”

I went into the bathroom and regretfully got out of my girls’ clothes. Taking off the makeup took a bit of time, but luckily, the only varnish I had on, was on my toes. Keeping on my silky panties, I put on my track bottoms and t-shirt. After brushing my hair, I grimaced at my reflection as looked like Mark again.

Going back into the lounge, I noticed that Jeff was making another cup of tea and watching the sports news on the TV. Josie was reading a girlie magazine; she looked me up and down as I walked in and then frowned.

“What?”

“Erm, Mark, can I have a word?”

“Sure.”

She steered me back into the bedroom and closed the door gently behind her.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Have a look in the mirror.”

I glanced at my reflection and then looked closely at my face. Had I left on some makeup?

“Not your face love, look at your chest.”

I looked at myself and didn’t really know what she meant.

“What?”

She came over and moved me so I was looking at myself side on.

My chest looked a bit proud and I could clearly see my nipples through the material; perhaps I was getting some muscles?

“Mark, can you pull up your t-shirt for me?”

“Why?”

“I need to look at your chest. Don’t be shy; I’ve seen it all before.”

I pulled the shirt up and Josie had a close look. Then she sort of prodded me a bit.

“Ouch!”

“Does that hurt?”

“Yes, a bit, they’ve been sore for a couple of days now, jogger’s nipple I think. I need to get some cream…

“Honey, it’s not joggers nipple you’ve got there, it’s budding breasts.”

“How…but …I don’t underst…”

“Those pills you were taking, I have a feeling that they were more than just blockers. I’m glad that you stopped using them. Let’s hope that everything is okay there. I’m glad that you have an appointment with the specialist on Friday. Anyway, put on a loose sweat shirt for now and we’ll talk about it later. John Prentiss will be here soon.”

Just then the front door bell went and I could hear Jeff clomping downstairs to answer it.

As I sat in the armchair waiting for them to return, I absent mindedly scratched one of my sore nipples. This wasn’t a development that I had planned on–yet. Yes, if I went all the way in becoming a girl physically, but not yet–not now as it could become very embarrassing.

John breezed in and shook my hand vigorously as I stood up to greet him.

“Well, Mark, great game yesterday, couldn’t believe how someone could turn the game so quickly. Great goal by the way…”

He was chatting away nineteen to the dozen and it sort of washed over me as I didn’t want him to fuss and anyway he didn’t know about my secret yet. Maybe when he heard, he would wash his hands of me and say nasty things like my slime ball step-father did.

Eventually, when the flow stopped and he was drinking the inevitable cup of tea, he looked enquiringly at us all.

“So, what’s all the fuss about?”

Jeff and Josie looked at me. It was going to have to be my job to say what had to be said.

“Mr Prentiss…”

“John, please.”

“John, erm–I have something to tell you that might cause you a few problems.”

“That’s what I’m here for…”

“Please don’t say anything. It’s hard enough to tell anyone, but we…I mean I feel that it’s only fair to tell you that I’m a bit different from your normal players…”

“I know that. I can see talent any day but you are something special…”

“Please let me tell you,” I pleaded.

I looked at him. He was puzzled and was obviously aware that I was upset. He just sat there as I told him. “When I was small, I always thought I was different. It took a long time to realise why: I felt sort of wrong–in my body. I–I always thought that God or whoever decides these things got me a bit mixed up. You see I think–I mean I’m almost certain that I am a girl. It’s not just the clothes; it’s the way I am. I never really related to boys of my own age, I had more in common with girls. When I first tried on girls’ clothes, it immediately felt right somehow. I find it difficult to explain but I’m a girl in the wrong body. But I want to play football and I want to be a success in the best team. I didn’t want to be like this but I am…I’m sorry!”

I burst into tears and rushed into the bedroom slamming the door behind me. I fell on the bed and cried into my pillow. It had come out all wrong. He would laugh at me and then say that everything was off. Then he would be like my foul step dad–horrible…

I stayed there crying for I don’t know how long. I was kind of conscious of someone coming into the room and could feel the weight of someone sitting on the bed beside me. I was then hugged by soft arms and I could hear Josie trying to comfort me.

“It’s all right, love; dry your tears, it’s okay.”

I calmed down eventually and, after wiping my eyes and blowing my nose with a tissue, I listened to what Josie had to say.

“John is okay about it. He knows that it’s going to be difficult but he thinks that he can help you.”

“He does?” I said hopefully. “H…he’s not angry with me?”

“No he’s not. Look, he wants to talk to you. Dry your eyes again and let’s see what he has to say.”

Josie led the way as I followed her, a bit reluctantly out into the lounge.

I came across a bit of a weird sight as Jeff and John were each holding one of the twins; they had decided to wake up and be heard!

After tickling a belly button of the twin he was holding, John looked up and smiled at me.

“Feeling better?”

I just nodded, not knowing what to say.

“Right let’s leave the babies for Jeff and Josie to sort out and go for a little walk, shall we?”

I glanced at Jeff who gave a tiny nod and a smile of encouragement.

I got my coat and John followed me down the narrow stairs to the street outside.

We walked along the edge of the playing field and found ourselves in the park. Sitting on a bench by the duck pond was nice. It was peaceful and quite lovely in the wintry sunshine.

John turned to me and smiled. “You were very brave to tell me.”

“I don’t feel brave. I feel that I’ve lied to you.”

“With good reason; the trouble with you is that you don’t see how good you are. Other people see it. Every time you touch a football, something special seems to happen. It’s a rare talent and you shouldn’t keep putting yourself down and not realising that you are special. You thought that you could carry on hiding who you really are in the hope that it would all work out okay in the end. Am I right?”

I nodded.

“Yesterday you did something special that millions of people saw and that made your problems more immediate than you thought they would be and you decided to get some help. I’m pleased that you’ve told me. It’s not going to be easy, but we will find a way of working things out. Do you believe me?”

I looked at his face and could see why so many players put their trust in him. A lot of agents were more interested in making money out of players than anything else. John was different.

“I believe you,” I replied softly.

“Good. Look you need to know where I’m coming from here. Let me tell you about me and my family. I have a wife called Miranda and a son who is only a year older than you; his name is Henry. Miranda is a teacher and Henry’s at a private school. Three years ago I came home from work. I parked my car outside on the front drive as I had to go to work early the next morning and didn’t want to mess about getting the car out of the garage at the back of the house.

“Miranda was at a parent teacher meeting. Henry was supposed to be doing his homework upstairs. When I went up to say hello, the room was empty and there was an envelope on his pillow. When I opened it, the note said just one word–sorry.

“Puzzled, I went downstairs to the kitchen and then could see a light coming from the garage. Somehow I knew that there was something wrong, so I ran out of the kitchen and dashed over to the garage, Opening the door, I almost choked at the fumes coming from the car exhaust of our spare car. There was a hose coming from the exhaust pipe and through a rear window of the car.

“My eyes were streaming and I was coughing badly as I pulled the driver’s door open, Henry fell out of the car. I somehow switched the ignition off and dragged Henry out into the clean air; he was blue around the lips and wasn’t breathing. I gave him mouth to mouth to breathe some life into him. Just then, Miranda’s car drew up next to us. She saw immediately that we were in trouble and she called for an ambulance. They turned up ten minutes later and all that time, my wife and I took turns to try to bring our son back to life.

“We managed to save him–just. He spent a week in hospital and we were told by the doctors not to pressure him or ask what was wrong. He needed to heal. Eventually he told us why he tried to kill himself. He is gay, homosexual or whatever label you want to put on it. He couldn’t tell us because he thought that we would reject him. It was eating him up inside. He thought he was a bad person for feeling the way he was and was guilty that his parents didn’t have a normal child.”

“That’s terrible,” I said with tears streaming down my face.

“Miranda and I both felt so guilty that Henry couldn’t tell us about his problem. Needless to say, we love him just as much and try to help and protect him whenever we can. So, Mark, I do understand a bit of what you are going through and I’ll try to be as much of a friend as I can be. You should meet Henry; he’s very much like you, sensitive and caring. Anyway, I have a few ideas so do you want to walk back to the flat and we’ll discuss them with Jeff and Josie?”

“Okay.”

“Can you do me a favour though?”

“Yes?”

“May I see Susan? I have a very good reason for seeing your other self.”

“Okay.”

Josie helped me with my hair and makeup. I wore my other pink Primark top and a short denim skirt and sandals, not exactly winter weather clothing, but I wasn’t going anywhere. I took a few deep breaths; this wasn’t going to be easy…

Both Jeff and John stood up as I came into the lounge. John’s jaw dropped slightly as he saw me and I nearly bolted back into the bedroom but couldn’t, because Josie had a firm grip on my arm.

“Mark?” said John.

I nodded, suddenly even shyer than I thought I could be, and then said, “Susan,” softly.

He looked pretty gobsmacked as he looked me up and down; he then nodded for some reason. “You’re very pretty, Susan. I can’t see much of Mark in you except the nose and general body shape. Shall we sit down and have a chat?

“Look, I’ve talked with Jeff while you were changing and he mentioned your idea of being Susan when you don’t want to be seen as Mark. If anyone queries who you are you could be his sister or something. I know that you don’t want to make any final decisions about your gender until you are older. The fact that you feel the way you do is, as far as I am concerned, private and I don’t think that we need to involve the club at this stage. The media is another matter. You may have to face up to the fact that you might get found out. They are very good at ferreting things out. The sister trick just might help. We must do all we can to protect you. If the crap hits the fan, we will have to let the club know as soon as possible. However if we’re careful we might get away with it until you are ready to tell the world or make a firm decision about your life, okay?”

I nodded and then he continued.

“What will happen to your football career after that is anyone’s guess but we’ll worry about that when the time comes. Right, fact one, you cannot stay here; you are too open to problems and there is no security to speak of.”

“Where can I go?”

“You need to have a place of your own where you can go and have some sort of privacy. That means a largish estate with gates and security.”

“I can’t afford that!”

“Yes you can. I happen to know that the revised contract that they are going to wave at you is going to make you seriously rich. But you are under age and I really feel that you need to be with your parents.”

“My dad’s in prison and my mum wouldn’t be able to cope with this.”

“What about your foster parents? Jeff and Josie want to help and I suggested that they live with you.”

I looked at Jeff and Josie and realised that they had been talking while I was out.

“Jeff, I don’t understand.”

“Look, it’s up to you but we have never been truly happy with your living alone here anyway.”

“I know, but you’ve done so much and I can’t ask you to change things because of me!”

Josie came and sat beside me. Taking my hand she spoke to me quietly. The men went into the kitchen and John was talking on his mobile.

“Look Susan; you have a whole load of issues you must deal with. You’re only fifteen and you can’t be expected to cope on your own. As far as Jeff and I are concerned, you are as good as our child and we want to help and protect you. Can you understand that?”

“Yes but I don’t want to cause you more trouble than I have already.”

“It’s no trouble. If anything had happened to your mum, we would have adopted you, if that was what you wanted. As it is, we love being part of your life and will do everything we can to help you. John has suggested that Jeff becomes your business manager and I think that it’s a good idea.”

I got a bit tearful again then, it was so wonderful that I had two people who loved me enough to want to adopt me.

“What about the café?” I sniffed.

“It doesn’t earn that much and we can either sell it or get a manager in. As far as you are concerned, Jeff will work for you and you can pay him a wage. It’s a business arrangement so it has to be on a business footing. John will arrange all the details about pay and all that so neither you nor Jeff will need to be embarrassed about that side of things. We can find a house that’s suitable for all our needs and move in there. That bit isn’t business, that’s what families do, stick together and help each other out. How does that sound? It’s your decision and we will support you whatever you decide. I’m going to make a cuppa, while you have a think.”

I sat there pondering what had been said. This was getting complicated but I felt warm and fuzzy inside about how much Josie and Jeff loved me and were willing to undertake to help me through all this.

“Josie.” I called.

She looked up as she filled the kettle.

“Yes?”

‘I’m going to ring Mum.”

“Good idea.”

John and Jeff were still busy on their mobiles so I popped into the bedroom and rang mum up in sunny Scotland.

“Mum, it’s me, Susan.”

“Hello, love, how are you. I was going to ring you later. I watched the game on Match of the Day, you were wonderful. I wish I’d been there.”

“I know, it was a bit of a dream really, I don’t know how I did so well. Anyway that’s kind of what I’m ringing about…”

I told her all that had happened and the fact that everyone thought that I should move to a more secure place and everything.

“Well, Susan; I think it’s great that they’re willing to help you. I feel so guilty that I’m not there for you.”

“Don’t be, Mum, I miss you lots, but I’m okay. Now that I’m earning good money, I’m going to come and see you really soon, I promise.”

We spoke for about twenty minutes more and I told her how much I loved her and got a bit choked up when she said the same about me. We didn’t speak much about my step-father, but it was a bit of a bombshell when she told me that he had been let out on bail.

“Shit, Mum! How come?”

“Don’t swear like that. I don’t like girls swearing and I certainly don’t want you to.”

“Sorry, Mum, it was the shock and that.”

“It’s probably a good idea that you’re moving, because the old house is near where you are now. Can I have a word with Josie?”

“Okay, I’ll get her.”

“Ring me tomorrow and let me know what’s going on.”

“Okay, Mum; love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

I went into the kitchen and after saying goodbye to Mum, and handed over the phone to Josie.

Jeff and John were still doing things on their phones; I think they were ringing estate agents and stuff like that. I had a bit of a headache so I swallowed a couple of pain killers and went into the bedroom. Picking up my bunny, I lay down on the bed and shut my eyes.

I must have been tired or something as the next thing I remember was that Josie was stroking my hair.

“Hello, sleepyhead, are you all right?”

I rubbed my eyes and looked up at her.

I yawned. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“Yes, a few hours ago. Jeff and John have popped out and taken the twins with them. We thought that you needed a bit of quiet time.”

I sat up on the bed and looked at Josie.

“What do you think I should do?”

“That is one decision you have to make for yourself, Susan. But what I will say is that we all want to do the right thing for you.”

I thought for a few minutes and then I found myself in the arms of Josie. I had a bit of a cry and wondered why I was getting more emotional lately.

After a few minutes I looked up at her.

“Can we do it please?”

2

It was amazing how much could be sorted out on a Sunday by someone who knows the system or at least knew someone else who could help. It was rather boring for me–the legal stuff and all that. Jeff and John spoke to mum and after a chat involving all of us, we agreed that, as she was in Scotland and not really well enough to do things, that Jeff should have what’s known as power of attorney for my affairs. That meant that he could look after the financial stuff without my worrying about it.

John had spoken to Melchester and had managed to put off my going there until Wednesday to sort out the contract stuff. He explained that because of all the publicity, we had to arrange moving house and things like that. He told them where we were going to stay and he promised that we would keep in touch with the club. Luckily there wasn’t a match until Saturday and it was agreed that I would go to training with the squad after the contract stuff was sorted out on Wednesday.

Because my dad might be lurking around and could, in theory cause me a whole lot of trouble, the top priority was to get me out of the flat and into somewhere safe. Jeff found a posh hotel about 10 miles outside Melchester and after packing some stuff in a case and stopping off at their place to grab some bags and stuff for the twins, we found ourselves at the hotel. My gob was well and truly smacked as I looked around the plush, posh palace where we were going to stay for a day or two until something more permanent was sorted out. Meanwhile, John was making enquiries about renting a house in the area and had gone off to look at a few places. I was still dressed as Susan so no one would recognise me. It was strange going out into public as Susan but I was getting used to it and didn’t keep looking around, wondering if I had been “clocked.”

The rooms were quite nice–make that super nice. It was called an executive suite. It had thick plush carpets, expensive looking furniture and a couple of en suite bedrooms. There was a large sitting area with leather sofas and chairs dotted about and a large plasma screen TV on the wall, which was mega cool. It also had a serious sound system that made you think that the sounds were coming from all around you. Yes, I could get used to this. The only thing missing that I would have liked was a Wii, but you can’t have everything!
Ooh, I forgot to mention that there was a fridge too; full of drinks, peanuts and stuff like that and I hoped that I would be able to try out a few things from there when I had the time but not alcohol as I hate that stuff after what it did to ‘slime-ball’.

My phone twittered and I saw a message from Claire.

“What’s happening?”

I texted her back.

“Developments.”

“What?”

“I’ve moved.”

“Why.”

“To keep me safe.”

“Safe?”

“Slime ball step daddy out of jail.”

“Gross!”

“Wher r u.”

“Hotel.”

“Wow.”

“Yea, wow.”

“Why are we txting.”

“u started it.”

Can I ring u.”

“L8tr,”

“ring me whn u can.”

“OK.”

“Bye.”

“Chow.”

“What’s that?”

“Never mind c u.”

I shut the phone down. I was never much into text-speak or whatever it’s called. I never had any real friends to text before and I needed to learn a bit more as my texting finger was sore from stabbing the keys too hard. Anyway I heard Josie calling me from the other room so I went to see what she wanted.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Jeff’s gone off somewhere. He’s meeting John. He thinks that they may have found somewhere that would be good for us to use as a base.”

“You are all great, doing all this for me,”

“Don’t worry, I think Jeff’s enjoying himself and I like this lifestyle too, so it’s not all one way. Help me get the twins in the buggy and we’ll go and see if we can get something to eat. There’s evidently three restaurants here to choose from.”

We squeezed the babies into the double buggy. It’s amazing that they squirm so much sometimes and I didn’t know that their arms were so rubbery and bendy.

“Do I need to change?” I asked, a bit breathless after the mini wrestling match.

She looked me up and down critically.

“You’ll do, just go and brush your hair and refresh your lippy.”

“Okilly-dokilly, mummy.”

I rushed into my bathroom and did the necessary and we were soon in the lift, silently going down to the ground floor where the restaurants were. The twins were making a bit of noise but the use of matched dummies (soothers) soon quietened them down a bit.

It was a major headache deciding where to go for a munch but we decided on the quick food, burger restaurant as we would probably have a proper meal in the evening when Jeff came back from his travels.

Having extracted the babies from their buggy and ordering a burger and fries followed by a thick strawberry milk shake for 2, we fed the little darlings some formula milk. I think I was feeding Poppy but it could have been Daisy as they looked like two peas out of the same pod–if you know what I mean.

“Is this Poppy?” I asked.

“No, Daisy.”

“How can you tell them apart, you always dress them the same and everything?”

“Poppy has that little birthmark on the side of her neck–see?”

Looking where she pointed, I could see the faint red mark.

“Ooh I see, not much difference between the two of them then?”

“No, they’re going to confuse the hell out of people when they go to school.”

We both laughed at that and continued with the girls’ slurpy feed.

After a quick burping episode where I unfortunately got some milky sick on my top, the twins went back in the buggy and promptly fell asleep.

Soon our order came and we silently ate our meal.

My mobile went off mid munch and as I took it out of my bag, I could see it was Claire.

I pressed the green button.

“Hrungff?” I said.

“Hi, it’s Claire, eating a burger?”

I swallowed and said, “How did you know?”

“Been there, done that and like, bought the t-shirt. How are things?”

“Look, I can’t talk yet. Can I ring you tonight?”

“Like, sure; when?”

“Well, bedtime I suppose.”

“Cool, I like those bedtime type chats that lasts for hours; speak to you soon?”

“Yea, ’byee.”

“’Byee.”

“’Bye,”

“’Bye.”

“You put the phone down then.”

“Okay if you do too.”

“Are you gone yet?”

“Nearly.”

“Bye.”

I pressed the red button otherwise my fries would have got cold and that is a crime against humanity or something.

Josie looked at me with a smile on her face.

“What?”

“You are so girlie sometimes.”

I smiled at that. It was the nicest compliment, apart from football ones, that I had heard for some time.

After finishing off our meal, we went back upstairs to find Jeff and John sitting at a desk poring over a laptop. What with Josie, Jeff and John for names it was all a bit of a J-fest. I should have called myself Jocasta, Jayne or something just to add a bit more confusion!

They looked up when we came in.

“Hi, girls.” said John. “We’ve been a bit busy and think that we have sorted things out.”

“Yes,” said Jeff, “We’ve found a place that should do for us. It’s a large house in its own grounds, fully furnished with gates and walls to keep out the curious and the nasty. The owners are abroad and have been for two years. They’ve been trying to rent it out for about a year now but because of the cost and the economic climate, they haven’t been able to find anyone to take it on so it’s a bit of a bargain for its size. If you want Susan, we’ll go and look at it tomorrow and if you like it, we can move in straight away.”

“Cool,” I said in my best High School Musical accent.

Josie shook her head and mumbled something about ‘bubblegum flicks’, but I chose to ignore her.

We spent some time talking about what we would be doing and I really don’t want to get into the boring details. It was nice to let other people do the thinking for a change. I just wanted to get over all the horrors of my old life and move on, so a few days semi-zoning out suited me down to the ground!

Later on we had a nice meal in one of the more formal restaurants in the hotel. John had gone home, promising to meet us the next day at the new house. I was so glad that he was helping us and I think that he had more than earned his money so far.

I got to wear a pretty dress for dinner. Josie bought it as a surprise for me from the hotel boutique; it was a lovely purple silk Karen Millen shift dress with a beautiful handkerchief hemline and a double layered neckline. Of course it came with matching shoes and bag so I think I looked quite nice.

I was just tucking into some strawberry ice cream, trying to avoid dripping it on my gorgeous dress, when I looked up. Over by the door I noticed someone I most certainly did not want to see. I went cold all over and it had nothing to do with the ice cream.

It was that horrible reporter–Bob Ferris. He was having a good look around until his gaze came to our table. He looked straight at me with a puzzled expression, and then his eyes went wide. He smiled and walked over to us, looking like a shark who had just found his dinner. I gripped Josie’s hand under the Table and nearly fainted as he walked up…

To be continued...

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

My heart was thumping as he walked towards us. He was looking straight into my eyes. That cold hard stare had no warmth or feeling...

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

---

Chapter 10

Previously...

I got to wear a pretty dress for dinner. Josie bought it as a surprise for me from the hotel boutique; it was a lovely purple silk Karen Millen shift dress with a beautiful handkerchief hemline and a double layered neckline. Of course it came with matching shoes and bag so I think I looked quite nice.

I was just tucking into some strawberry ice cream, trying to avoid dripping it on my gorgeous dress, when I looked up. Over by the door I noticed someone I most certainly did not want to see. I went cold all over and it had nothing to do with the ice cream.

It was that horrible reporter–Bob Ferris. He was having a good look around until his gaze came to our table. He looked straight at me with a puzzled expression, and then his eyes went wide. He smiled and walked over to us, looking like a shark who had just found his dinner. I gripped Josie’s hand under the Table and nearly fainted as he walked up…

And now the story continues…

1

My heart was thumping as he walked towards us. He was looking straight into my eyes. That cold hard stare had no warmth or feeling.

“Hello, fancy seeing you here,” said Ferris looking at me and ignoring everyone else.

“Can I help you?” said Jeff standing up, sounding none too friendly.

“No…sorry I haven’t introduced myself, I’m Bob Ferris, I used to work for the Melchester Star, but I’ve gone freelance now.”

“I did ask if I could help you.”

“I just would like to know where Mark Hurst is. You see I had a tip off that he was here and I recognized this girl from outside his flat the other day. I know who you are, Jeff, I saw you at the ground the other day, so when I see you and this girl together one and one makes two, so where is he?”

I sank lower in my chair. Josie held my hand under the table, my hand felt sweaty. Glancing around, I could see the other diners staring at us. The last thing I wanted was attention and that was happening right here and right now!

“You were told not to harass Mark, he’s under age and there are laws about that,” Jeff said, angrily, his face going red.

Ferris smiled, ‘he looks like a predatory shark’, I thought.

“He’ll be sixteen soon so it’ll be easier to, shall we say, report about him in the UK. Abroad, now that’s a different matter, some foreign papers are getting interested in him; you know ‘wonder kid’ and all that stuff.”

I got angry then. I may be a bit meek and mild, but I do have a bit of a temper and you don’t do well at football by being walked over.

“Go away, leave us alone, will you!” I shouted, standing up and spilling a drink at the same time.

“Oh yes, I can see the likeness now. Are you his sister?”

“Mind your own business!” I spat.

Jeff was flexing his fists; the twins were crying and Josie was as white as a sheet. It looked like things were getting rather ugly when the manager came over and placed his hand on Ferris’s arm.

“I think you should leave, Sir.”

Ferris just smiled and said, “Of course.”

“Yes, his sister,” he said thoughtfully, looking at me again, “You must be twins, you look so alike, much prettier though. Look I don’t want any unpleasantness; I just want an interview with Mark. Where is he by the way?”

“Mind your own business,” said Jeff calming down slightly. “Now are you going to leave or do I have to rearrange your face.”

The manager tugged at Ferris’s sleeve and pulled him away.

“I’ll be back,” said the reporter, leering. “The public has the right to know…”

Another man had come up and both he and the manager escorted Bob Ferris out of the restaurant.

I sat down feeling a bit faint and then I noticed that I had spilt cola on my lovely dress and promptly started to cry.

2

A few minutes later we were back in the hotel room; I was in the bathroom with Josie as she helped me out of my ruined dress. Catching site of my reflection in the mirror, I saw that my makeup had run and I looked a sorry sight.

Josie gave me a couple of tissues and took the dress out, returning a few minutes later with a nightie.

“Jeff is going to get the hotel to clean the dress. As the stain is still wet, it should come out okay. Now clean up your face and put on this nightie. I think that you need an early night and we are checking out at 7.00am tomorrow.”

“Where will we go?” I sniffed.

“Not sure, but Jeff thinks that we may be able to get into the rented house early tomorrow and if you like it and flash enough money around, maybe we can stay there.”

I quickly got ready for bed and was soon tucked up with my soft rabbit. It was nice when both Jeff and Josie came in and kissed me goodnight.

The light was out, but I couldn’t sleep. I could hear the sound of talking next door and I strained to hear what they were saying. Were they having second thoughts about me? I seemed to be causing a lot of trouble. They were now under the spotlight because of me and I felt so very guilty about it. A couple of tears squeezed out of my eyes and down my face. Did I want all this and wouldn’t I be happier just playing park football and living over the café. Things seemed a bit simpler then. It was getting so complicated and I didn’t know if I was strong enough to cope.

I began to understand how much pressure young players with any talent received. The media spotlight, no privacy and everything you do, being scrutinized and reported upon. No wonder so many turned to drink, drugs and other nasties.

I was unable to sleep, so using the remote, I switched on the TV. There was the usual rubbish so I channel hopped and nearly went past it. Turning up the volume slightly, I caught the end of the Evening News.

The reporter was standing outside Melchester’s ground, it was raining; well it usually was in Melchester.

“…Thanks Jackie. Well rumors are rife here that Melchester’s legendary midfielder Dave Winston is retiring due to the recurring injuries that have plagued him this season. A club spokesman said that no decision is being made until Winston comes back from the USA where he has gone to see a specialist. It seems likely that new wonder boy Mark Hurst will have to fill the boots of one of the most revered and talented players ever to put on a Melchester shirt. Only time will tell if his explosive entry onto the Melchester team the other day was a onetime thing; a fluke or if he is someone who comes close to filling Dave Winston’s boots. Kevin Sargent…ITN…Melchester.”

I switched off the TV Dave Winston may have to retire! I couldn’t believe it. One of the greatest players around; a legend, loved by all Melchester fans and everyone who supported England. Then I shivered as I recalled what else the reporter said…about filling his boots. I would never be as good as him.

It was quite next door now and I couldn’t see a light under the door so Jeff and Josie had probably gone to bed. After the news that I had just heard, it was harder than ever for me to go to sleep. I tossed and turned and then turned the TV back on. There was a chick flick on and I started to watch it. I think it must have helped me to stop thinking about things as I didn’t remember anything else until I was gently woken up by Josie.

“Come on sleepy, looks like you had a late night TV thing going.”

“I couldn’t sleep so I turned it on and caught the news about Dave Winston.”

“Yes we just listened to a thing about it on the radio. It doesn’t look good. Anyway, they don’t really know the results of his tests yet; it might all work out okay.”

“I suppose.”

“Now you had better get up, have a quick shower and get dressed. We want to be out of here as quickly as possible so that we can avoid Ferris.”

Yawning, I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Taking off my nightie, I sat on the loo and did the necessary and then putting on a shower hat, I went into the shower. The warm jets soon helped me to wake up and I was soon toweling myself dry. Feeling a new girl - sort of, I padded into the bedroom and chose a white cotton smock top and boot cut jeans to wear today.

Putting on my panties, bra and falsies was a matter of moments; then my top and jeans. I slipped on some knee high stockings and my black boots and that was it; I was dressed. I used some lippy and blusher not bothering with my eyes as I didn’t have much time. Finally, I brushed my hair, tugging at some tangles, but finally making it look nice.

Grabbing my case from the corner, I packed my clothes as best I could and then I was ready. I looked up as Jeff knocked on the door.

“Are you decent?”

“Just about,” I said as he walked in.

“Ah good, you’re ready. I wish Josie would be that quick. She’d be late for her own funeral. Look, we are going to check out straight away and find somewhere else for breakfast, Then after nine, I’ll ring the estate agent and see if we can bring the viewing of the property forward. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He smiled.

“Good; well I’ll chivvy along Josie and the kids and we’ll see you in a minute.”

Half an hour later, we had squeezed everything into the car and were on our way. By the way, for those that are interested, my dress came back as good as new with no sign of staining so I promised myself that I would wear it again as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
 
 

3
 
 
We found a Little Chef restaurant after about twenty minutes next to a roundabout.

I was hungry so I had eggs, bacon, sausage and chips with a cup of tea to wash it down.

I reflected on last night and the spoiled meal.

“How did Ferris get to know where we were?” I wondered.

Jeff looked up from feeding one of the twins.

“The only people to know where we were going were a few people at the club. I have a feeling that someone leaked it from there.”

“That’s not good.”

“No; I’m going to have a few quiet words when we go there next. We can’t afford to have this happen again.”

After finishing the meal, Jeff was on his phone again. The reception was bad so he went outside. I helped to clean up the twins. It’s amazing how messy they get at feeding time!

A few moments later, Jeff came back in.

“It’s okay, we are meeting the agent at the house in about an hour; time for another coffee then.”

Thirty minutes later we were on our way. I sort of wondered what the house was like. Jeff had explained what it was like but it isn’t the same as actually looking at it.

We drove along a dual carriageway for several miles and then took a turning. After going down several roads, we turned into a lane. It wasn’t very wide and, thankfully, we didn’t meet any other traffic. On the left and right at wide intervals, we passed several large houses set back behind walls, trees and fences. This was obviously an area where serious money lived!

After about a mile, we turned into a driveway and stopped. In front were some large metal gates that were closed. Jeff got out of the car, and keyed some numbers into a keypad. The gates slid silently open and then Jeff got back into the car and drove through. Looking behind me, I could see the gates closing behind us.

I couldn’t see the house yet as we drove down the long winding drive. There were plenty of trees lining our route and I could see lawns and flowerbeds behind them. Eventually, we went around a wide bend and there it was.

The house was quite large, detached and by the look of the number of windows, there were no shortage of bedrooms. I had been told that it was about a hundred years old and was originally owned by someone who ran a textile factory. It had changed hands several times and the present owners were living abroad. I remembered Jeff saying that the house had been up for sale for a while, but now was not a good time to sell, so it had been up for rental for some months.

There was a Beemer parked outside the house and a smarmy looking man in a shiny suit was standing there with a smile on his face. I didn’t like him much, I don’t know why, women’s intuition, I supposed.

“Stop it,” hissed Josie at me as we pulled up next to the other car.

“What?” I enquired as Jeff got out and walked up to Mr Shiny-Suit.

“You’re scratching your chest, it’s not very ladylike.”

I didn’t realize I was doing it.

“Sorry, Mummy, it’s a bit sore; oh, I called you Mummy again!”

“You call me Mummy if you want. I know your real mum doesn’t mind and we consider that you are near enough our child any way. Give me a hug!”

We hugged a bit and it was lovely, then the twins started getting a bit restless.

“I’ll have a look at your chest a bit later, okay?”

“Mmm.” I said, a bit sniffy, as we got out of the car and unhooked the kids from the car seats.

After a bit of a struggle with the buggy, we joined Jeff and the estate agent.

“Ah, nice to see you both,” he beamed. “I’ve unlocked the doors. Would you like me to show you
round?”

“No, that’s all right,” said Jeff. “I can show them.”

“Right, I’ll wait for you here then.”

He sat back in his car and started writing stuff on a clip board as we walked through the impressive double doors and into the large hallway.

Inside it was quite cool. The high ceilings and impressive central staircase gave the impression that this was a house made for someone who had it and wanted to flaunt it. It was a bit cold inside as the heating was off and it was still winter. I hated to think how much it would cost to heat this place!

I was like a little kid as I rushed off and looked in the various rooms. I texted Claire and snapped photos on my phone as I went. The kitchen was humungously large with modern cooker, dishwasher, fridge and stuff like that. There was a utility room attached to the kitchen containing a washing machine and tumble drier, together with a sink and… I just realized that this is beginning to sound like an estate agent advert, so I’ll stop by saying the house was neat with a couple of large sitting rooms with the usual TV’s and stuff; lots of bedrooms with en suits and views.

I kept getting texts back from Claire saying things like cool, great, wow and stuff, so she was impressed too!

The was a large extension on the back that included a sunroom, gym (great!) and an indoor swimming pool (super great!).

After looking around inside and outside–the grounds were large with plenty of places to go for a morning run–we all met back in one of the sitting rooms and Jeff called in the estate agent.

He smarmed in all shiny suit and glittering smile.

“Well, how do you like it? Not many houses like this come on the letting market, with its views and well appointed…”

“Yes it’s very nice,” said Jeff a bit sharply. I don’t think he liked the estate agent much either. “Look, we still need to discuss things; can you give us ten minutes?”

“Certainly, I’ll be in my car just let me know when you’ve decided…”

He left us and we looked at each other.

“Talk about Uriah Heep” said Jeff.

“Who?”

“Never mind, Susan. Well you’ve seen the place. What do you think, it’s your decision.”

It was a great place and if I had to hide away somewhere, it would suit me fine.

“What about the security thing; is that okay?” I asked.

“Well it has high walls and no one can get in without us knowing. They have CCTV and a central alarm. They even have a security company come and check on things at night and during the day. I don’t think we can choose anything better.”

“What do you think, Josie, will it work?”

“As Jeff says, it’s your decision love. But you need to be safe and not looking over your shoulder all the time. We will still have to be careful when you are out and try to make sure that we aren’t followed, but at least you can sleep easy knowing that you are safe from prying eyes here, anyway.”

I thought for a moment.

“Can I afford it?”

“On your wages, no problem. You could afford it even on the reserve team wages but now you are on the first team squad, well let’s say you won’t go short.”

I thought for a few more seconds. It was a nice place and we could have some fun here, I hoped.

“Okay, let’s take it!”

Jeff smiled and then went and got the estate agent in and after a few minutes, the documents were signed. A phone call to the bank and a hefty fee ensured an immediate transfer of funds to the estate agent’s bank account. This meant that we could move in straight away. It’s true what they say, money does talk.

We finally got rid of the estate agent and were able to start to get things sorted. Jeff phoned my agent, John and told him the news about the house. He also told him about what had happened last night with Ferris. John evidently said that he would speak to the club and find out who blabbed. Also John was going to put off my meeting with the club until Tuesday afternoon. John had said that they shouldn’t complain as some idiot at the club had shot his or her mouth off to a reporter, making us do all of this in a hurry!

Jeff went off in his car to collect some bits from home and the flat over the café, leaving Josie, me and the kids at the house. We did some household things that I won’t go into and got ourselves settled in. It wasn’t until the evening that we were able to relax. Jeff went to get some fish and chips–there was a nice place about ten minutes away in the nearest village.

After sorting things out and while the twins were asleep, Josie got me to take off my top and bra.

She inspected my chest and prodded me a bit.

“Ouch!” I said.

“ Hurts?”

“Mmm.”

“Well, you’re definitely developing buds. How long were you on those pills?”

“About six months.”

“I still think those pills were more than just blockers. We will have to ask the doctor when we see her. Don’t worry about it now though.”

“Okaaaay.”

But I was worried and wondered how much more I would develop. It didn’t make any sense that my breasts were growing and itchy. I had been taking blockers to delay my starting male puberty and hadn’t had an erection for ages, not that I ever had many of those anyway, but the pills weren’t supposed to turn me female. I wanted time to make the right decisions. I was 95 percent sure that I wanted to be a girl, but what with my football career and everything else, I needed time.

I won’t go into much more detail about the day as I’m sure most of you have moved house sometime and the details are not that interesting. I phoned mum and chatted to her for a while; she was happy that things were going well and I promised to ring her in a few days after things had settled down a bit. We didn’t talk about my step dad, but I know that he was at the back of our minds.

I talked to Claire too several times and she sounded a bit off. It wasn’t until I was tucked up in my new bed that I rang her again to find out what the matter was.

“Hi Claire.”

“Hi.”

“Can you talk?”

“Mmm, I’m in bed, are you?”

‘”Yes, what’s up you do sound a bit down.”

“My mum has to go into hospital tomorrow for tests.”

“Oh, sorry—erm, what’s up with her?”

“They don’t know, something to do with plumbing, I think.”

“How’s your dad taking it?”

There was silence.

“Claire?”

“He died a few years ago.”

Then I remembered, Andrew, her brother told me something about his father but it was a long time ago and I’d forgotten.

“Sorry, Claire, I forgot.”

“That’s all right.” She sounded a bit tearful.

“Where are you going to stay while your mum’s in hospital?”

“I’m being shipped off to an aunt, down south. She really doesn’t want me and I don’t want to go. Andrew’s okay as he’s gone camping with the scouts.”

“Come and stay with me!”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because….Can I?”

“Of course. I’ll just have a quick word with Josie, I’m sure she won’t mind, Ring you back in five.”

I got out of bed, put on my pink fluffy slippers and padded over to the door. They normally went to bed late so I was sure that they would be in the sitting room. I nearly got lost, the place was so big and I wasn’t used to all the doors and corridors. Anyway, I was feeling a bit chilly in my thin silky nightie and now wished that I had put on my robe.

Anyway, I soon found my way and walked into the sitting room. They were cuddled up, watching the TV.

“Hi,” I said came up to them.

They both looked up and smiled.

“Hi, honey, can’t sleep?”

“No, Mummy, it’s not that. I’ve been on the phone to Claire. Her mum’s going into hospital…”

I explained the situation to them.

“It’s up to you, Susan. After all it’s your house more than ours,” said Jeff.

“Don’t say that, Daddy; it’s everyone’s home and if Claire came, you would sort of be responsible for her.”

“Look, honey, if you want her to come that’s fine. Ask her mum to ring us in the morning and they can sort out the details.”

“Thanks, you’re both great!”

I sat on the sofa and gave them a big hug each, then rushed upstairs, jumped into bed and then rang Claire back.

“Hi, Claire, it’s on; just ask your mum to ring mine and they will discuss it.”

“Wow, like that’s really cool. We can have a sort of sleepover thing.”

“Yes, if we can get you here tomorrow morning…hang on, can you get off school?”

“Yes, compassionate leave of absence it’s called, I won’t have to go in for a few days.”

“That’s good. I’m sure that we can come and pick you up and bring your cases and stuff. I have to go to Melchester to do some more boring paperwork tomorrow afternoon but it shouldn’t take too long, then we can have some fun!”

“Like, that’s cool.”

I yawned. It had been a long day.

“Look, I’m a bit sleepy, I’ll speak to you tomorrow, ’K?”

“Okay and, Susan?”

“Mmm?”

“Like, thanks.”

“Right; night then.”

“Night.”

I switched the phone off as I didn’t want it to go off while I was asleep and settled down. In seconds I was asleep.

4

Tuesday morning I woke up early, feeling refreshed. Mind you, my feet were getting itchy. I had promised myself to go on morning runs when I could and I didn’t want that to slide. I got up and went into the bathroom as I was doing my usual morning wee dance!

After that I went over to the window in my bedroom and pulled the curtain back. It was about eight in the morning so it was quite light. It was cold, clear and frosty, ideal for a nice warming run.

I decided to get out there while I was still in this positive frame of mind. I heard somewhere that the hardest thing about going out for a run was putting on trainers. I could relate to that as you sometimes needed a bit of a push to put them on and get going. Mind you, I love running because it wakes me up and makes me feel good about myself.

Ten minutes later; after leaving a note on the kitchen table saying I was going out for a run, I quietly let myself out of the back door and started off. It was lovely out there as I went around a path, through a small wood and out the other side. The sun had no real warmth but it was cheerful and made everything look bright and new. The frost on the grass and the branches of the trees was so lovely and sparkled in the sunlight. There was no wind and I could see my breath in the cold air. It only took a few minutes for me to get my second wind and I was able to stride out a bit. I was a bit conscious of my wobbling breasts and it made me wonder what the doctor was going to say on Friday. I was glad that Josie was coming with me to that.

I turned my thoughts away from this as I remembered that Claire was coming to stay! That was great; having her around would make things interesting to say the least. Also this afternoon, I was going back to the club for the first time since Saturday. I hoped that I could just sneak in, sign the stuff that needed signing and then sneak out again. But I knew that that probably wasn’t going to happen. There were always reporters and cameras around the club and I kind of realized that I was part of the place and very newsworthy.

Following the path around, I could appreciate just how extensive the grounds were. I wondered in passing if the place was up for sale, how much it would cost. Then I laughed at the notion of a fifteen year old kid owning something like this. Mind you I think I needed to be eighteen for that sort of thing!

I found myself at the side of the house. It had taken about twenty minutes to run around the grounds. It was still quiet and I was enjoying myself a lot, even though I was a bit out of puff. Letting myself back in, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. It felt quite warm in there compared to the frosty cold outside and I was soon sweating freely. After my breath returned to normal, I went back to my room. I met Josie coming down the corridor.

“Morning, Susan.”

‘Hi, Mummy.”

“Had a nice run?”

“Brilliant; the gardens are wonderful. I don’t mind running there and it felt sort of like safe.”

“Mmm, it is lovely here. I’m just going to sort out the terrible twins, they need feeding and changing. You’d better change out of those clothes and have a shower before you catch a chill.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

I stripped off quickly and had a nice warm shower, the water hit my body like needles, especially on my sensitive breasts, but I felt really clean afterwards. After drying myself off with a towel, I dried my hair with my hairdryer. It was taking longer to dry it, now it was getting longer. Once I had combed it through, I was pleased how nice and soft it felt.

After slipping on my panties and bra, I put on a navy cotton skirt and Oasis V-neck jumper and some sandals. I was now ready for the world–well breakfast anyway. I didn’t put on any makeup except some lippy and blusher. As I got near the kitchen my mouth started watering at the smell of yummy bacon!

‘Morning, Daddy,” I said kissing him on the cheek. I gave Josie and the milky mouthed twins the same treatment and sat down at the kitchen table.

“You were up bright and early this morning?” Jeff said as he munched his toast.

“Yes, I had a great run around the grounds; this place is big!”

“I agree. I couldn’t believe it when I came on Sunday. Anyway, we are picking up Claire at nine. I take it you want to come?”

“Of course I do. It will be great having her here.”

“Aren’t we enough for you then?” asked Josie with a straight face. I knew she was joking. I poked my tongue out at her and we all laughed, even the twins!

After breakfast, I helped to clear up and then it was time to go and get Claire. Josie stayed behind with the twins as there wouldn’t have been room for everyone in the car.

It took about forty minutes to get to Claire’s house. We pulled up onto the drive and Claire came out of the house before we had actually stopped.

“Hi,” she said in a small voice as we hugged. I could see that she was worried about her mum so I tried to be as cheerful as possible.

“That’s a nice top Claire, where did you get it?”

“Next, you know the one in the High Street.”

“Well, we have to go there…”

I chatted on, trying to make her smile but losing the battle. We all walked into the house and Claire’s mum was there. She didn’t look very well and had dark circles under her eyes.

“Hello, Jeff and Susan, Claire’s said lots about you. Thank you both for looking after my baby…”

“Muu-um!”

“Sorry,” she said tiredly, “You know how it is, Jeff. Well your twins are still tiny but even when they grow up you still worry. I bet you’ll still think of them as your babies like you do with Susan here”

“Yes, I know what you mean, I think I will…”

They went into the lounge and Claire just grabbed me and we went upstairs.

Going into her bedroom I could see how girlie it was. All pastels and pinks with some dolls sitting on a shelf and several soft toys on the bed. It was a lovely room, the sort of room I would have loved growing up in.

“Nice room.”

“Do you like, think so?”

“Mmm.” I nodded, “shall we take your bags downstairs?”

“Okay.”

We went downstairs and after Claire said a rather tearful goodbye we got in the car and were off.”

As we left, Claire broke down then and had a good cry on my shoulder.

“S..she didn’t want me to go to the hospital with her as it would be too upsetting. She said that I should ring the hospital tonight an…and they would let me know how it went.”

“It’ll be okay, I’m sure,” said Jeff from the front, but I could see that Claire wasn’t too convinced.

5

Showing Claire around the house took her mind off her troubles for a bit and she loved the place, especially the swimming pool! She had the bedroom next to mine and it had a connecting door so it would be cool at night time when we could visit each other. Nothing sexual there as I had no sex drive and she was heavily into boys and no way did she consider me anything other than a girl. No I was her ‘sort of’ sister and that was nice as I had someone my own age who I could talk with about girlie things. Josie was great, but it was different if you know what I mean.

Reluctantly, after lunch I got changed into Mark. It was getting harder and harder to dress as a boy. I had to tape up my chest. It felt a bit restrictive even though my breasts weren’t that prominent–yet.

I decided to wear a plain white t shirt and loose hooded top over it. I swear my bum looked bigger too, but that may have just been my imagination. Slipping on my harsh boys jeans emphasized the fact that I was in boy mode. I didn’t like it but if I wanted to play football for the team, I had to make sacrifices. I pulled my hair back into a low ponytail, checked in the mirror for signs of makeup and then I was ready to go to the club.

Claire was coming too as she was going to take the tour while I was getting the paperwork sorted out. As I walked into the sitting room, Claire looked up from reading a magazine. She had a puzzled look on her face and then it cleared.

“Mark?”

I nodded.

“You look different, sort of like your own brother, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t like being a boy do you?”

“Not really, I feel sort of wrong.”

“Never mind, I’m sure that it will like sort itself out soon.”

We could hear the honking of the horn from outside so we said goodbye to Josie and the twins and were soon on the way to the ground.

“Oh Su…I mean Mark, I got a text from the club to say that there is a training session for the first team squad at the ground today and after the paperwork stuff, they want you to attend. I think it’s one of those first team against reserve games; thirty minutes each side and lay off the heavy stuff. They don’t need any more injuries!”

“Okay.” I said perking up a bit. Playing football made me forget my problems for a while and I hoped that I would enjoy the game. Now I knew that I could play okay at the top level, it didn’t seem such a daunting prospect playing with and against my heroes.

Claire and I chatted about lots of things on the way to the ground and I tried to take her mind off her mum, who would be going into surgery this afternoon. I don’t know if I was that successful but she seemed to cheer up a bit.

6

As soon as we arrived at the car park, we were waved through by the security guard. People were milling around, going into the huge club shop or doing the tour and it was strange the way people pointed at me as I got out of the car. One boy ran up with a photo in his hand; his dad puffing up behind him.

He was about eight and he looked excited for some reason.

“Mark, can I have your autograph?”

He held up the photo and pen. I did a double flip as it was of me just after scoring the goal on Saturday!

I Shakily signed my name and then all hell broke loose as I was surrounded by loads of kids and adults asking for me to sign things like shirts, programmes photos and stuff like that. After a few minutes of this and me, sort of on auto pilot signing everything in sight, I was pulled away by a security guard and led to the safety of the offices.

Claire was looking at me strangely but with a knowing smile on her face.

“Can I have your autograph, Markie, please?”

“Don’t you start.” I said, not finding it very funny.

Claire then went off with one of the office girls who kindly said that she would give her a personal tour while Jeff and I went into a conference room. Inside was John Prentiss together with the manager, Sandy McPherson, and assistant first team coach Roy Neake. There were a few other people there, part of the backroom staff, I think. I just said hello to everyone and sat down in the preferred chair.

“Right,” said Sandy, “Let’s get this bloody paperwork sorted out so that I can get back to sorting out the team for Saturday. By the way Mark, you’re playing against Manethorpe so I want you here at the ground on Friday at 5.00pm. You probably don’t know the setup, but we always stay in a hotel local to where we are playing the next day. It saves same day travel and it helps us focus on the game rather than anything personal; okay?”

“Yes boss.”

“Good….lets get this over with…”

I signed some forms and contracts. The figures given to me sort of washed over my head, but the gist of it was that even if I only played for one season, I wouldn’t ever need to work again, especially if we went up the league a bit and won the cup. It was obscene the amount of money I was being offered, what with the recession and everything, but football is a business and I was considered to be a valuable asset. I still think that my playing was a bit of a fluke and that the next game would show me up for what I really was–a talented park footballer, but until that happened, I would enjoy the ride.

“Right,” said the boss, “I think that’s about it. Oh, one thing, John mentioned the breach of security where you were hassled by that scum of the Earth Bob Ferris. He’s been banned from the ground and training centre. Also, one of the office staff here has been sacked. Don’t worry about him, it turns out that he’s been giving out information for money for the past six months. I go down heavily on anything like that. It’s hard enough in our game to have any sort of privacy and when this happens I don’t take prisoners. Okay, Mark?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Good, what are you still here for then, get down to the dressing room and change for the training match, you have eight minutes…scram.”

I scrammed.

To be continued...

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

I started undressing; after taking off my top, I felt a strong urge to scratch my chest, but couldn’t get at my nipples because of the strapping.

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

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Chapter 11

Previously...

“Right,” said the boss, “I think that’s about it. Oh, one thing, John mentioned the breach of security where you were hassled by that scum of the Earth Bob Ferris. He’s been banned from the ground and training centre. Also, one of the office staff here has been sacked. Don’t worry about him, it turns out that he’s been giving out information for money for the past six months. I go down heavily on anything like that. It’s hard enough in our game to have any sort of privacy and when this happens I don’t take prisoners. Okay, Mark?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Good, what are you still here for then, get down to the dressing room and change for the training match, you have eight minutes…scram.”

I scrammed.

And now the story continues…

1

I ran to the dressing room, luckily the place was empty. Some kit was lying on the bench in the corner. Walking over I could see a polished wood locker and on it was a small brass plate. It had my name on it, well cool!

I started undressing; after taking off my top, I felt a strong urge to scratch my chest, but couldn’t get at my nipples because of the strapping. I donned the red football shirt and shorts, football stockings shin pads and boots. I was as ready as I ever would be. Looking at myself sideways in the floor length mirror I could see that my chest was reasonably flat so I should get away with it–I hoped.

I ran out of the changing room, down the passage and out on the pitch. It was strange going up the stairs to the pitch side. Last time I was here, the noise of the crowd was deafening; this time, the only sound was the players shouting on the pitch. Running over to the others, I just said, “hi,” and then took my position on the field.

The trainer, Phil Jenkins was ref. and a couple of his assistants were linesmen. It was nice that I was accepted and no great fuss was made about my being there, I felt as if I belonged and it was a great feeling. There were a few people in the stand watching the game, probably visitors with a day pass or staff with time on their hands.

Soon the whistle was blown–after dire warnings from Mr Jenkins that if anyone got injured through being recklessly tackled, there would be hell to pay!

The game started off carefully. Everyone was walking on eggshells. No one wanted to tackle or do much else: it was getting a bit ridiculous. I know that we could not afford any more injuries, but this was weird. One of our defenders passed the ball to me and I started move up the pitch with it. On the far left, one of our wingers had his arm out, so I lobbed the ball over a defender and luckily it landed at his feet. I sprinted up field and called for the ball. A blue defender tried blocking me, but I sort of swerved past him and ran towards the box. The ball came toward me but quite low; the goalie was a bit like a fish out of water, he didn’t know whether to stay on his line or come out for the ball.

I was, by this time on the edge of the penalty area, sprinting towards the goal, one eye on the ball and the other on the goalie. I dived and my head met the ball at just above ankle height. I connected sweetly and the ball went into the nearside corner of the net as I collided with the sprawling keeper. My happiness was short lived as felt my neck go into a painful spasm.

I was on the ground waiting for treatment, my neck feeling somewhat sore, to say the least. Petre told me not to move, so I did as I was told. The physio came up and started to feel my neck. Through a forest of legs, I happened to glance at the stand immediately behind the goal. My blood ran cold as I saw my step father staring at me, his cruel face smiling twistedly.

I jumped slightly and closed my eyes as my neck was sprayed with ice cold vapour from a spray can. Sitting up, I looked up at the stand again seeing only empty red seats with no sign of my step father!

The physio was asking something about whether I was okay and I just nodded. Standing up and gingerly moving my neck from side to side, I looked around and couldn’t see my step father anywhere. He must have been an hallucination. I had been through a lot in a relatively short space of time and now I was seeing things!

After being pronounced fit to play again, I found myself slightly more upset than I should have been and it took me a few minutes to get back into the game and focus.

As I got up and looked towards the dugout, I could see Claire jumping up and down like a maniac and shouting “Markie!” Not knowing where to put my red hot face, I just smiled weakly and trotted back to our end.

That goal seemed to break the ice and things loosened up somewhat; I made two goals, sprayed the ball about a bit and just managed to block a shot off our line when the blues had a corner.

One of the goals I made was quite good. We had a free kick about twenty five yards out. Petre kicked the ball to me and just said, “do a bit of magic.”

Not being Harry Potter and being short of a wand anyway, I just thought of something that I noticed had happened quite often with free kicks.

I placed the ball down and looked up. As usual, there was a wall, this time made up of five blues and two of our reds, who were trying to make things a bit difficult for the defenders.

The goal keeper was pacing up and down his line to make sure that all the angles were covered before standing in the middle to await developments.

I stepped four paces back from the ball and looked pointedly to the left hand side of the net. I ran up and shot towards the goal, hesitating for an instant before kicking the ball. As expected the men in the wall were trying to do two things at once, protect their groin area and collectively jumping up to try to stop me lobbing the ball over them.

I did the opposite, as they went up, I kicked the ball hard and low, at ankle height into the right hand side of the net–under the jumping defenders. Unfortunately, the ball clipped the inside of the goal post, but luckily, one of our players managed to bundle the ball over the line and we had our goal.

My side congratulated me and Petre thought that we might play that trick in a real game, but I was a bit miffed that I didn’t score myself.

My neck was still hurting from my first half dive and began to stiffen as the game continued. It was decided to take me off and I was sent to see the physio.

After a few minutes heavy manipulation and a rather painful injection in the neck, the doctor just said rest up for a few days and then go and see him if it hadn’t improved–it didn’t seem that serious.

The game was still going on–it had about twenty minutes to go–so I went into a shower cubicle, undressed quickly and cleaned myself up. I wasn’t able to tape up my breasts by myself and I would have to find an easier way to do things in the future. One of the things that really concerned me was whether I could keep my puffy chest a secret. There was a plunge bath and shower cubicles in the changing rooms and I wondered if I could get away with being a bit shy and just use the cubicles until things were sorted out.

As soon as I had dressed again I was pleased that my rather loose top didn’t draw attention to things. As I finished dressing, the other lads walked in.

“Hi, Mark, good game.”

“Hey, Markie, how’s the neck?”

“You were a lucky bugger, for saving that sure goal.”

There was plenty of banter, all good natured and it felt great that I ‘belonged’.

Then Mr McPherson walked in. He was one of those people who can, by the force of his presence, make a room full of people stop talking.

“Well, lads, good practice. I want to see more commitment on Saturday though. I know we have injury problems and some of you lack first team experience, but Saturday is important and I expect the best, anything less is just not acceptable. Okay, end of lecture.” With that, he nodded to us and walked out.

“Short and sweet.” I said, nearly under my breath.

“Yes,” said Captain, Petre Ogsood, “he is a man of few words but the ones he does say are important. How’s your neck?”

“Much easier, thanks.”

“That’s good; we will need you on Saturday.”

After saying goodbye to the few players remaining, I made my way back to Reception where I knew the others would be waiting. Claire, standing next to Jeff was looking a bit glum again–no doubt worrying about her mum. I went to her and gave her a bit of a hug. Jeff moved away to give us some privacy.

“It’ll be okay, Claire, your mum’s strong and she’s in the best hands.”

“I know.” She sniffed, “but I do worry, I’ve rung the hospital but all they say is that the tests are continuing and I should ring tonight. Because they have put her under, they say I shouldn’t go and visit till tomorrow as she won’t be aware that I’m there. Oh, Sus…I mean, Mark…”

She cried on my shoulder and I took her over to the one of the comfy chairs and sat her down. Jeff brought us over some tea and after drinking it, she said she felt a little better. I tried to cheer her up, but it was hard work. One of the receptionists looked over and looked sympathetic, no doubt thinking that Claire was my girlfriend. Well she is a girl and she is my friend.

We left for home shortly after that. I was waylaid by a number of kids and adults who wanted to say, “hello,” ask for my opinion about Saturday’s game or get an autograph. It was still a bit of a novelty for me to be picked out from the crowd and I wondered if I would ever get used to it. I supposed I should be pleased that there were no press people sniffing around and I still dreaded the possibility of Bob Ferris stalking me with a photographer in tow equipped with a long lens and no scruples.

As we drove off, Jeff kept glancing in his rear view mirror and I think that maybe he had had the same thought as me; was anyone following?

After a few minutes, he seemed to relax somewhat so we were safe–for now. Just then, Claire’s mobile rang, she pulled out the phone from her bag.

“It’s the hospital,” she whispered, her face going as white as a sheet.

“H-h-hello?”

“Yes, it’s Claire…okay, hang on…Jeff, can you take me to the hospital, there’s a problem and they can’t say much on the phone.”

“Okay, love, we’ll be there in–about ten minutes.”

Claire passed on the message and then dropped her phone on the floor. I picked it up and then held her hand.

“What’s up, Claire?”

“I…I don’t know, they can’t talk on the phone they just said that I should get to the hospital as quickly as possible.”

2

We arrived in eight minutes, because Jeff didn’t hang about. We parked as close as possible and ran into the hospital building. Jeff went straight to reception and found out where we needed to go; the fourth Floor, Edith Cavell Ward.

We kept pressing the buttons on the lifts, but nothing was happening so we just used the stairs instead. As we pushed open the swing doors, we were met by a nurse.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” said Jeff. “We are looking for Mrs Creasey, Claire, her daughter here, was asked to come as soon as possible.”

“Ah yes, will you come with me please.” She led us down the corridor and showed us into a waiting room. “I won’t be a minute.”

She left us alone. Claire was silent, as white as a sheet and trembling slightly. I only wished that the nurse had told us something, anything about what was going on. I held one of Claire’s hands and Jeff held her other one. Just then a door opened and a lady doctor walked in.

“Claire?”

She nodded, her grip tightening on my hand.

“Thanks for coming so quickly. We thought for a short while that we would lose your mother as she reacted badly to the anaesthetic and the operation. Her heart stopped twice but we managed to stabilise her. Look, there isn’t any easy way to say this; as you know, she was in for tests. She had an exploratory operation to see what the problem was, we found some growths that might be cancerous so the surgeon took immediate action and did a hysterectomy. We think that everything nasty has been taken away but your mum will have to stay in for a while we do some more tests. Now, I believe you have no father?”

“N…no, he died.”

“Sorry to hear that. Who’s looking after you?”

“I am, with my wife.” Jeff replied without any prompting–I do love him, lots!

“That’s good; so this is the situation, she can’t be seen at the moment but she’s stable. She’s been through a lot and is quite weak. She needs lots of rest and as I say, further tests to make sure everything is okay.”

“When can I see her?”

“If you can come after eleven tomorrow morning Claire, she should be okay to see you then.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s all right, dear; now you go home and don’t worry, she’s having the best of care. Now I have to go so I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Claire nodded and the doctor left the room.

3

We were all quiet as we drove home. Claire was in a world of her own. I was worried that she didn’t seem to be upset–just quiet. Obviously she wasn’t going to be the life and soul of the party, but I expected some sort of reaction to the fact that her mother was having such a bad time. I don’t know how I would feel if my own mother up in Scotland had something like that happen to her.

Remembering what my slime ball step-father did to Mum was bad enough and the horror of finding my mum covered in blood due to that man’s brutality would certainly haunt me always; but I sort of knew somehow that my step-father was capable of doing something truly nasty and the fact that the violence did happen was no surprise to me. Let’s face it; something terrible was going to happen sooner or later. No this was different somehow. Claire’s mum didn’t have a violent husband. She had a lovely daughter a great son and as far as I knew, they were all happy. No it was the shock of the illness and how unexpected all this was; that was the thing. One minute everything running smoothly and the next minute–this.

The gates slid open after Jeff keyed in the correct number. I hadn’t noticed that we were home. As we arrived at the house, I was a bit relieved that we had managed to get back without being followed. I knew what I needed to do now–look after Claire without any distractions. Mind you, I didn’t feel up to this. Being fifteen without much experience, I was dreading saying the wrong thing and making everything even worse than it already was.

We opened the car doors and got out. Josie opened the front door and came to us. She took one look at Claire, then hugged her tight. The damn burst and Claire sobbed uncontrollably. I was rather relieved that Josie had taken charge and just watched her and Claire go into the house while Jeff and I got the bags out of the boot.

“I rang Josie earlier when you went to the toilet with Claire. She’s good at this sort of thing. You know she’s a Samaritan?”

I nodded. Josie never talked much about it–confidentiality I think, but I did know that once a week at least, she left Jeff and the kids for several hours to do her voluntary work with those who were suicidal or in need of comforting.

We went into the house; Josie and Claire were nowhere to be seen. I assumed that they had gone off somewhere quiet to talk things over.

Taking my sport bag upstairs, I put it on the floor by the bed and then, with relief, took off my boy clothes. Thirty minutes later, I was Susan again, wearing, lovely silky-soft panties and bra, a denim skirt, a white smock top and sandals. It took moments to apply some light makeup and lippy followed by a couple of minutes brushing my hair. Looking at myself in the mirror, I nodded with satisfaction. It was no good, I so much wanted to be Susan full time, but I couldn’t while I was leading this double life. One day, I knew that I might have to give up one or the other, in the meantime I would have to make do with what I had.

Could I have both? Be a footballer professionally and a girl? Who knows, but it would be nice if I could. This wasn’t the twentieth century any more, and hopefully things move on. Fifty years ago if not less, being openly gay was a crime, now it was near enough normal and accepted. Perhaps boys who wanted to be girls and vice versa might be in a similar position soon?

I sighed and then smiled. At least in my own home I could be me!

When I went downstairs, Claire was in the sitting room cuddling her doll. I hadn’t seen it before and assumed that she brought it with her in her suitcase. I sat down beside her.

“Hi, Claire, what’s your doll’s name?”

“Tracy.”

“She’s nice. Have you had her long?”

“Mummy gave her to me when I was four.”

We were quiet for a minute. I didn’t really know what to say.

“I hope Mummy’s going to be all right.”

“I’m sure she will be. How d’you feel?”

“A bit sick; Josie was nice though. She talked to me and made me feel like, better–a bit. She said that I shouldn’t bottle it all up inside but let it out. I think I’ve cried more today than ever before.”

“I know; it does help. After my mum was attacked I cried buckets.”

She looked at me and smiled.

“Of course, you’ve been through this; thanks for like, being here for me.”

“That’s what friends are for. Have you spoken to your brother?”

“Not yet. I’ve left a message with his scout master and he’s going to tell Andrew. He’s a nice man and he’ll make sure that Andrew doesn’t worry too much.”

“Will Andrew come home?”

“I told the scout master that Mummy is out of danger and it looks like she’s going to be okay. There’s no point in Andrew coming home unless…”

“I’m sure you did right saying that. Let’s face it; Andrew’s better off where he is. If anything happens, he can always come back, can’t he?”

She nodded.

4

We watched some TV and then had something to eat. We were all a bit quiet at the table. That is we were quiet but the twins decided to do some stereo shouting and screaming, so the meal was far from peaceful!

My neck was still quite stiff, so I decided to go up to my room and put on a DVD. Claire came with me and we were soon lying on the bed watching High School Musical 2, not as good as the first one but watchable. At least it helped make us forget about our problems for a few hours. After that we put our coats on and went for a walk around the grounds. It was nice out there, if a bit chilly in the winter air. Soon it started to get dark so we came back indoors again. I went upstairs to ring my mum and I think Claire stayed downstairs with Josie and Jeff.

“Hi, mum, how are you?”

“Fine thanks, love. What’s been happening at your end?”

I told her all about Claire and the practice match. She was sad about Claire’s mum. She knew her slightly evidently as they met up at the school gates sometimes.

“So, Mum, what have you been up to?”

“Not a lot really. It’s true what they say about Scotland and the rain. I had a phone call from the police. I had contacted a solicitor on your aunt’s advice about your step father. He has been banned from trying to get close to me or you until at least after his trial.”

I didn’t tell her about my imagining seeing him at the game because it might have spooked her as much as it did me.

“He doesn’t know where we are, does he?” I asked.

“No, but it pays to be careful.”

“Why did you marry him, mum?” There was silence at the other end for a few moments.

“H…He wasn’t always like this, you know–violent. Things started to get bad after he lost his job for the first time. He started drinking and then he changed. Even after he got his job as a driver, he still drank. I think you were a disappointment to him. When he married me he had a readymade family. I never told you this, but we couldn’t have children because he had a low sperm count. It made him feel less than complete. So he wanted to at least have a step-son with whom he could relate and do things that men do. Apart from the football, you were always a quiet, loving child and I suppose a bit of a pansy in his eyes, you know, preferring to play with girls, not wanting to mix much with other boys–that sort of thing. The only thing he liked was that you were great at football.”

“He never stood on the touchline though.”

“No, he never said why. I think maybe he was punishing you for not being more of a boy in other areas.”

We spoke for a few minutes more and then I said goodbye. With my step-father out of prison, Mum thought it best to put off coming to visit me, though I could tell that she was dying to see me and the new place that we were living in.

Josie was in the kitchen when I went back downstairs.

“Hi, Mummy.”

“Hello, Susan, how’s Claire?”

“She’s okay, she’s in her room watching TV. Thanks for having a word with her.”

“That’s okay, she’s a nice girl and I feel for her.”

“Do you talk to many kids when you are doing your Samaritan thing?”

“I’m not really supposed to talk about it, but there are lots of children who have problems that they can’t sort out. We are there to listen and give support where we can.”

“It sounds like a nice thing to do.”

“It is nice, apart from the occasional idiot who rings up…but I’ve said too much, let’s change the subject.”

“Mummy, I’m a bit worried about my breasts and how I can hide them when I’m playing football.”

I told her about the game and how I couldn’t put on the strapping after my shower.

“Yes, I thought you might have a few problems so I went on the net and there is something called a compression vest, it should help hold things in and may be easier for you to use. I’ve ordered a couple of different types and they should be here tomorrow.”

“Thanks that’s a great weight off my mind–I mean, chest.” I put my hand up to my mouth and giggled at that and soon we were both laughing our heads off!

The next few days went quite quickly, my neck felt a lot better the next morning, but I wasn’t going to take any chances so I just stayed in and rested. Claire was taken by Josie and Jeff to see her mum and it seemed that she was going to be okay. I just mooched around the house feeling a bit bored, but not minding too much after the hectic times that I had experienced lately. I was left looking after the twins, but they were no bother, just sleeping mostly and making faces at each other when they were awake. I did have to change them once and I prefer not to go into that too much.

Claire looked quite cheerful when she came back from the hospital.

“Hi, Claire, how’s your mum?”

“She’s like feeling a bit weak and woozy, but she’s okay. She needs to rest a lot and they are doing some more tests. They want to try to make sure she’s free of anything like nasty. They did a test on the stuff they took out of her and the tumours they found were benign. That means that they probably wouldn’t cause any problems. Mind you, when she comes out of hospital she needs to go into special hospital which takes care of people who need to recuperate. She could be there for a month.”

“So can you stay with me then?”

“Do you like, want me to stay that long?”

“Don’t be silly, you’re my best friend.”

She smiled and gave me a hug so, subject to Josie and Jeff saying that it was okay, it was all settled. Andrew, her brother was going to stay with a mate so we didn’t have to worry about him. Mind you, he wanted to meet up with Claire some time and I didn’t know whether I should see him too, as he was one of the only friends I had when I was in boy mode and he had evidently spouted off to his scout mates that he knew me–the now famous footballer–perhaps I could see him as Mark rather than as Susan? This was all getting a bit complicated!

The next day, the compression vests came. I struggled to put them on as they were both a bit tight. They both did a good job of flattening my chest and had the advantage of me being able to put them on and take them off without any help. I preferred the one that looked like a plain white t shirt because it was more comfortable and less out of place so Josie ordered several from the net. The story, if anyone said anything was that I had a problem with my ribs and the vest gave me extra support. It wasn’t a great explanation but that was better than saying that I wore it to squash down my growing breasts!

I did some light training with the others in the first team squad on Thursday at the club training ground. Whilst I was at the training ground, we got confirmation that Dave Winston, our star player was retiring with immediate effect. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone and I wondered how much pressure was now going to fall on my shoulders because I was considered the “wonder kid”.

5

That afternoon, I visited the hospital with Claire to see her mum. I was wearing a pink top and blue boot cut jeans. My hair was high in a ponytail and I had just a light dusting of makeup and some nice pink lipstick. No way was I anything like Mark and I was pleased with that.

Claire’s mum was in a side ward and after a quick word with the sister, Jeff left Claire and I to see her mum while he went off to do things on his mobile–he was quite the manager now and I think he was enjoying himself.

She looked quite ill still, almost as white as the sheets that were covering her, but she looked cheerful enough if a bit tired.

“Hi, Mum, you look like, much better.”

“I’m not too bad, love. Hello, Susan, thanks for looking after my baby.”

“Muuum!”

“Sorry; well you are my baby. Has she been all right at your place, Susan?”

“Yes, it’s been great, well not great ’cause you’re in here and that, but it’s been nice having her stay with us.”

“That’s good; and are you sure that she’s okay to stay with you for a while longer?”

“It will be great having her.”

“I am here you know.”

We all laughed at that and settled down for a chat. We had brought grapes but Claire had eaten half of them and her mum was a bit sick at the sight of grapes so Claire and I finished them off for her.

After about twenty minutes we could see that she was getting a bit tired so we said our goodbyes and walked out. We had just turned left out of the ward when I collided with someone, I landed on the floor and he sort of fell on top of me.

“Andrew!” shouted Claire.

My heart sank as I saw him get up and dust himself down then look down at me.

“Sorry, Miss, I didn’t see–M-Mark is that you?”

To be continued...

Please leave comments...thanks

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

‘That is you! What the hell is going on here?’ Claire stepped in quickly, dragging Andrew off me. ‘Look, Andrew, don’t throw like, a wobbly. We can explain…’     Football Girl Chapter 12 By Susan Brown

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Previously...

After about twenty minutes we could see that she was getting a bit tired so we said our goodbyes and walked out. We had just turned left out of the ward when I collided with someone, I landed on the floor and he sort of fell on top of me.

“Andrew!” shouted Claire.

My heart sank as I saw him get up and dust himself down then look down at me.

“Sorry, Miss, I didn’t see–M-Mark is that you?”

And now the story continues…

‘I…I…I.’

‘That is you! What the hell is going on here?’

Claire stepped in quickly, dragging Andrew off me.

‘Look, Andrew, don’t throw like, a wobbly. We can explain…’

Struggling to untangle my legs and getting up, I felt rather sick because Andrew sounded far from friendly. I stood up finally and faced him. ‘Hello, Andrew.’

‘Christ, you even sound like a girl. This isn’t Halloween you know. Are you doing this for a bet or something?’

I was still speechless but Claire wasn’t. ‘Look, you plonker, we can’t talk here, let’s go to the hospital cafeteria.’

We trooped downstairs to the café, got ourselves some cokes and sat in a relatively quiet corner.

‘Right then, what’s going on and why do you look like that?’

Taking a deep breath, I tried to explain.

‘Look Andrew, this is no joke. I have been dressing secretly as a girl for years. It was only when my step father went too far and I had to get away, that I started to do this full time when I’m not doing my football thing.’

As I explained all that had happened his mouth kept doing impressions of a halibut. After I finished, Andrew looked incredulous as if he couldn’t get his head around the fact that I was now a girl.

‘But you can’t be a girl; you play football.’

‘Lots of girls, like play football,’ said Claire.

‘Yea, but not professionally; what happens when the press finds out an’ that?’

‘I don’t know: look I need time and hope that things work out in the end.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘For you to have a go at me or laugh, tell everyone and then make my life… a… a misery? No thanks; we weren’t close enough for that.’

Andrew looked a bit sick. I had never noticed before that he had nice eyes and his nose tipped upward at the end…He looked nice too, still wearing his scout uniform…better than the jeans and t shirts he normally wore…I shook my head, clearing out these weird thoughts and nearly missed what he said next.

‘You could have told me. What sort of friend do you think I am? I don’t have many and I stick up for the ones I do have.’

He got up.

‘I have to go and see mum now,’ he said in a dead sort of voice. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t blab to the press.’

‘Are…are we still friends?’

‘Course you are like, friends,’ Claire butted in.

‘I…I don’t know. I was sort of proud that my mate was a famous footballer, but I’m not sure I can take all this and the fact that you didn’t like me enough to trust me with your secret…I need to think; see you.’

He went off and I sort of started to get a bit weepy.

‘Don’t worry, Susan, He’ll come round, it’s just that he’s like, stubborn an’ that.’

I didn’t say anything, not sure of my feelings and confused about–everything really.

That night, I didn’t sleep very well and my thoughts did not stray far from Andrew and his reaction me. I wondered if he would still be my friend and also whether he would out me. Then there was the doctor’s appointment the next day. Why were my breasts growing like this and were the pills that I had been taking, somehow bad ones?

The next morning I was woken up by Claire jumping on my bed. ‘Come on, Susan; your mother’s called up three times for you to get up. The last one sounded a bit like she was going to, like, come and throw a bucket of water on you or something.’

‘What time is it?’ I yawned.

‘Nearly nine and you’ve about an hour to get ready before the doctor’s appointment.’

That woke me up all right. My heart sunk and then did a sort of a flip as I realised that this was a bit of an important day for me. Getting up, I went to the bathroom while Claire got herself ready. She was coming with us and was going to be dropped off at the hospital to visit her mum while we went on to see my doctor. We would be picking her up on the way back.

I wasn’t very hungry at breakfast and just toyed with my cornflakes. Josie didn’t say anything and I think she realised I was a bit worried.

I was wearing a pink angora jumper and a white medium length cord skirt. My hair was in a high pony tail using a pink scrunchie. I went easy on the makeup, not wanting to seem to be overdoing it.

‘Bye, Daddy.’ I said giving him a quick kiss and a hug.

‘Bye, honey, let me know how you get on and don’t worry, it will all work out, I’m sure.’

I just nodded and then gave the twins a quick peck on the top of their heads, their faces being covered in breakfast cereal.

Jeff was staying at home and working in the office. He was going to look after the twins too, so we didn’t have to worry about them today.

The doctor had consulting rooms near the town centre and just half an hour later we pulled up in the car park and made our way to reception. As soon as we were inside, the receptionist checked me off on her computer and asked us to sit in the waiting room.

There were several comfy chairs and we sat and waited for the doctor. At least the place was empty other than us so I didn’t have the embarrassment of being stared at.

A few minutes later a door opened and lady wearing a white coat with a stethoscope hanging round her neck came out. She was, I suppose about thirty and very pretty; slim, with long straight brown hair.

‘Hello, Susan and Josie?’

We both nodded.

‘Will you both come in, please?’ We followed her into the consulting room where she sat behind a desk, motioning us to take a seat opposite her.

‘My name is Dr Connor. I have some notes here, but they are far from complete. Now Susan, can you tell me a bit about why you present as a girl. Don’t worry, I’m not judgemental and I only want to help you decide the way forward.’

‘Do you want me to wait outside?’ asked Josie.

Dr Connor looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

‘C–can you stay, Mummy?’

‘Of course, love.’

I told the doctor about my dressing and then how I had almost certainly wanted to be a girl. I also told her about my other life as a footballer and the problems I had trying to keep the two sides of my life apart.

‘Thank you, Susan, that gives me a better picture of what you have been going through. It sounds a bit complicated to say the least! What I need to do now is examine you and take some blood. Is that okay with you?’

I nodded.

‘I’ll wait outside.’ said Josie as I was given a gown to wear.

The doctor left while I changed. The gown was one of those that did up at the back and left your bottom rather exposed, so it was hardly what you would call flattering. After putting it on, I noticed that my breasts were rather prominent through the thin white material. I wasn’t big by any means, but it wasn’t what I expected to have–yet anyway.

There was a knock on the door.

‘C–come in.’

Dr Connor walked in with a file in her hand. ‘Good, you’ve changed. Would you like to jump up on the examination couch? I’ve just received the results of the tests that were done on the pills you were taking. I haven’t had time to look at them but will do so after I have had a good look at you.’

I don’t like medical examinations and this one didn’t make me feel any better about them. I was prodded, poked, had needles stuck in me, I lost about an armful of blood; readings were taken of my heart and blood pressure. I was surprised as it was even more thorough than the medical I had had at the club.

While she did the tests, she asked me a number of questions that were rather embarrassing.

‘Susan, do you have many erections?’

‘N…no.’

‘When was the last time?’

‘Well, before I started to take the pills, my penis was a bit hard when I woke up in the morning, but not very, if you know what I mean.’

‘Have you ever masturbated? Don’t be shy, most kids, girls and boys do it sometimes.’

I felt myself go hot as I struggled to answer.

I…I tried a few times, but I don’t think I did it properly as nothing much came out: just some clear stuff.’

‘So you know what semen looks like.’

I nodded, feeling my face get hotter. ‘I…I saw some things on the internet and we did sex education at school.’

The examination continued after that. It wasn’t nice when she stuck her finger up my bottom and wiggled it about a bit and then, she messed about with my genitals and that hurt a lot, so I was feeling a bit bruised and battered to say the least. She examined my breasts and I had funny sort of feelings there as she examined them, once again I was getting a bit hot and I wondered if it showed how embarrassed I felt. I was asked several times to wee in a little pot thingy but was too nervous. I was then told to have a large drink of water and sit down for a break.

‘I’ll have a look at these results for those pills while you have a rest and I will ask your mother to come back in.’

As I sipped the water, Josie came in and sat down next to me. ‘How’s it going, kiddo?’

‘Oh, Mummy, I hate these examinations.’

‘Well, no one likes them. You aren’t supposed to enjoy them, you know. Jeff rang earlier and asked how things are going.’

‘How’s he coping with the terrible two?’

‘He loves looking after them. He thinks he’s one of those new men, you know, all touchy-feely and happy to help with the chores.’

‘I bet he doesn’t like changing nappies though!’

We both laughed as Dr Connor came in. We stopped smiling as we saw the expression on her face.

‘What’s wrong?’ Josie asked.

‘Not too sure yet; look, Susan, do you want to go in the loo and try to do a wee in the bottle for me?’

I picked up the pot and went into the toilet shutting the door after me. The worry on Dr Connor’s face sort of made me want to use the toilet anyway so I had no trouble producing a sample. My hands were shaking slightly as I worried about what was going on.

I made a bit of a mess so I cleared things up and it was a few minutes before I was ready to go back into the consulting room. My hands were shaking for some reason and was feeling slightly hot.

‘There you are,’ said Dr Connor, ‘I thought you’d got lost in there.’

I smiled weakly as I sat down next to Josie.

‘Well, I have looked at the test results and also the analysis of the pills you gave me to have tested. Firstly, you are healthy and strong in most respects. However we have a few problems. As you know, you took those pills to block the possibility of male puberty starting until you were able to fully make up your mind. The analysis of the pills show some disturbing results. There were a number of things in them that should not have been there; yes they contained the anti-androgens that were supposed to be there but in larger quantities than are considered safe. Also, there were large amounts of high potency oestrogen. How long were you taking them?’

‘About six months’

‘Too long; far too long. That’s why you have the breast development and your genitals are atrophying.’

‘What's atrophying?’ I asked, holding Mummy’s hand.

‘ A wasting or decrease in size of a body organ, in your case, your genitals. Look there is no easy way to say this, you are almost certainly sterile and I think that you probably have permanently damaged testicles. The medication that you have been taking, make your testes shrink and effectively become juvenile. They may or may not produce sperm after pills are stopped. I think that we need to book you in for an exploratory operation sooner rather than later. I do not want you to have anything nasty happen down there.’

‘Cancer?’ I whispered, gripping Mummy’s hand even tighter.

‘I doubt it, so don’t worry. I did a thorough examination down there and I don’t think you have to worry about it at the moment but I think we will need to pursue the possibility that you may need a bilateral orchidectomy where your testicles are removed to prevent the unlikely possibility of cancer or other problems occurring if not now, in the future. Oestrogen wouldn’t cause testicular cancer; if anything it would reduce the chances of it. The main risk with testosterone blockers eg androcur, is liver damage. Another thing, the use of oestrogens with testosterone blockers would bring rapid loss of muscle mass which would have an effect upon strength and possibly stamina. This would give probable weight loss and may also impact on your football career. We may be able to help you with the weight and stamina side of things, but make no mistake, it would be hard work for you to maintain a level of fitness needed to play a professional sport. You would need to be totally dedicated and focussed, but I’m guessing that you are that anyway. Look, I’m telling you this as you need to be aware of all the implications.’

She looked at me with concern. ‘How do you feel about all this, Susan?’

I was a bit numb. Like most people the “C-word” made me feel slightly sick at the thought of what may or may not happen to me.

Josie began asking a few questions and I sort of zoned out for a moment.

‘Susan!’

‘What? Oh sorry, did you say something?’

‘I asked how you feel about all this?’

‘I…I don’t know. I want to be a girl but I want to be really sure I make the right decision. I've read a lot on line about people who have gone the whole way and discovered after a while that it was the worst decision they had made. I want to be a girl and am a girl but I wanted to do it right and not make any mistakes…but now…’

‘Now you think you have no choices?’

I nodded.

‘Look, honey,’ said Mummy. 'You know that you aren’t alone in this; you have Jeff, me and your mum. We will help you as much as we can and I’m sure Claire will have something to say–she normally does!’

I smiled weakly at Mummy’s attempt at a joke.

‘Okay,’ said Dr Connor, 'I think we need to step back for a bit and let things take their course. But first, let me say a few things. Observing you, Susan, I can see that you present yourself as a very pretty and convincing girl. You can still present as a male but to be honest I think it will get harder as time goes by. You have no facial hair and your voice has not broken significantly. Your musculature is somewhat androgynous, which means neither really male nor female so it will get harder to be seen as a male as you get older. I know you have your football career to consider so you have to make some decisions soon. I want to you to see a psychiatrist I know who specialises in gender matters and I’ll arrange an appointment for you as soon as possible. You need to talk to someone with experience in this field and anyway, we need to go through some hoops if you decide that we should go through the complete reassignment route. I will also arrange the exploratory examination for next week, so make yourself available at short notice. Okay?’

I nodded, still on autopilot; it was all too much to take in. Things had happened to me in such a short time that wouldn’t happen to anyone else in a lifetime.

We parked in the hospital car park but, before we went to get Claire, we had a walk around the hospital gardens. There were quite a number of people there including patients in wheelchairs being pushed by nurses or relatives; others were walking or sitting on benches having a crafty cigarette before returning to the smoke-free environment of the hospital.

It was a gorgeous winter’s day with some warmth from the sun, showing that spring was around the corner. I wondered what position I would be in when spring arrived.

We sat on a bench next to a duck pond; it was nice and peaceful there and I had time to have a bit of a think. Josie didn’t say anything and I think she knew that I wanted sort things out in my head.

I looked at her; she was gazing into the distance thinking her own thoughts. I wondered if she had realised what she was getting into when she took me on.

‘Sorry.’ I said.

She looked at me, frowning. ‘What for?’

‘I’m nothing but trouble.’ I whispered, my lip trembling. I felt tears running slowly down my cheeks.

She opened her arms and I fell into them and cried my heart out. She stroked my hair and whispered stuff that I can’t remember but what I do know was that it helped–a lot. As soon as I felt a bit better, I moved away from her.

‘Here,’ she said, passing me a hankie. I wiped my eyes, noticing some mascara on the tissue and then blew my nose. I went to hand the hankie back to her and she made a face and we both laughed a bit at that; relieving the tension.

‘How do you feel now, love?’

‘Better thanks.’

‘That’s good. Now, young lady, don’t think about your being ‘trouble’ we’ve had this conversation before. Even though you have a mum, and she loves you lots, you’re lucky; ’cause you have another mother–me–and a father in Jeff, who dotes on you. We both love you as much as we would have if I had given birth to you myself. Now I don’t want to hear any more of that nonsense. You are stuck with us whether you like it or not.’

‘I like.’

‘Good, that’s what I want to hear.’

We sat there for a few more minutes. Ducks kept coming up to us and I wished that I had some bread for them. Soon they went further down the pond to a little girl who had brought the necessary, leaving us in peace.

‘Mummy?’

‘Yes, love?’

‘It’s going to get worse before it gets better isn’t it?’

‘I think so, we are here for you. What are you thinking?’

‘What Dr Connor said; I don’t really have a choice now, I have to be a girl.’

‘It’s what you want.’

‘I know, but I want to be a footballer too.’

‘Well, you can be both.’

‘I know, but it’s so brilliant playing professionally with the best players in the country. Ladies football is good and it’s getting better, but the teams in this country are not in the same class as the men’s teams; it’s a money thing I suppose. Football for girls is one of the fastest growing and popular sports and yet there is next to no real recognition for it. Yes you get the cup finals on Sky if you are lucky, but it’s not the same as men’s football.’

‘What are you going to do about Melchester?’

‘I don’t know. They need me, the injuries that they have are as bad as they can be. If I dropped out through injury or something, I think that that would struggle. D’you think I’m being big headed?’

‘No, honey, you are something special. Look, a lot has to happen before you need to do anything. Continue to play and don’t say anything, that’s what I would do.’

‘Isn’t that dishonest?’

‘Probably, but if you did tell them and you had to stop playing, they would be in a worse position than not knowing…does that make sense?’

‘Mmm, it does. If I did tell them, I wonder how long the press would take to tear me apart?’

‘Not very long love. Look, you have the opportunity to do things at your own pace. I don’t know how long you will have to be out of action if or when you have your bilateral orchidectomy but until then, I would let things take their course.’

‘I’m hoping I can continue until the season ends. I suppose it depends on what they find when they do the exploratory operation. I wonder if I can still play for them after, you know what?’

‘I don’t know, honey; I think this is kind of a unique situation but there’s no point in beating yourself up over it at the moment. Now we had better go and get Claire before her mum has a relapse, but first we need to go to the ladies to repair our faces.’

Looking at my face in the mirror, the streaky makeup did little to enhance my looks. Luckily I was able to do the necessary repairs and then we made our way to the ward where Claire’s mum was.

As we walked into the room, I hesitated and my heart flipped as with Claire and her mum, was Andrew, sitting by the side of the bed. They all looked up as we entered. I was looking at Andrew and a look of confusion was on his face before he looked away.

That hurt a bit as it seemed as if he hadn’t forgiven me or worse didn’t accept me for who I am. Tears pricked at my eyes and I just mumbled that I would wait outside with the car and I left before anyone could say anything.

Waiting by the car, I felt confused and more than a bit cheesed off. Why did he feel this way about me? All right I didn’t tell him about me, but I didn’t think that we were that close and anyway, my being a girl wasn’t a thing that I was about to broadcast at school when I was there or anywhere else for that matter.

I looked in the wing mirror and saw that my face was in need of repair–again–and saw in the reflection that Andrew walking up to the car.

Turning around, I looked at him as he stared at me.

‘What?’ I said.

‘You’ve been crying.’

‘So?’

‘Is it because of me?’

‘No…yes…I don’t know. Everything is making me cry at the moment.’

Looking at him, I saw that he was wearing of all things a Melchester sweat shirt. It looked nice on him and … I wasn’t going there. What is up with me?

‘I…I think we need to talk,’ he said, ‘fancy a coke in the cafeteria?’

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To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape. and to the equally lovely Angharad for her expertise and support.

We didn’t say anything as we made our way to the café. I couldn’t tell from his face or anything else what he was thinking...     Football Girl Chapter 13 By Susan Brown

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Previously...

I looked in the wing mirror and saw that my face was in need of repair–again–and saw in the reflection that Andrew walking up to the car.

Turning around, I looked at him as he stared at me.

‘What?’ I said.

‘You’ve been crying.’

‘So?’

‘Is it because of me?’

‘No…yes…I don’t know. Everything is making me cry at the moment.’

Looking at him, I saw that he was wearing of all things a Melchester sweat shirt. It looked nice on him and … I wasn’t going there. What is up with me?

‘I…I think we need to talk,’ he said, ‘fancy a coke in the cafeteria?’

And now the story continues…

We didn’t say anything as we made our way to the café. I couldn’t tell from his face or anything else what he was thinking.

Thinking about him, I realized that he was the only male friend I had, now Jeff was effectively my father. You treat your dad differently to your friends and anyway, Jeff had always been a sort of father figure to me.

Oh, I had mates that I had played football with but other than play with them, I didn’t have any other contact. Andrew was a school friend, one of the few boys who had shown any interest in me as a person and not some sort of footballing freak.

As we entered the cafeteria, Andrew turned to me; ‘Grab a couple of seats while I get the drinks…coke all right?’

I nodded and went to a quietish corner and sat at an empty table. My heart was banging away as if I had done a couple of heavy circuits and I wondered what he was going to say. A few minutes later he came back with the cans of drink and two KitKat chocolate bars.

I poured my drink into a glass–I hate drinking from cans–and unwrapped the KitKat. The silence was deafening and I had to say something.

‘Sorry,’

He looked up, his blue eyes staring at me for a moment. He was frowning and a lock of his hair was flopping over one of his eyes. I wanted to reach over and push it out of the way for him…

‘What are you sorry about, the fact that you have kept all this from me or that you were found out?’

‘That’s not fair; I have been through hell and back over the past few weeks and I really don’t know if I’m coming or going and now you…’ I just had to start crying didn’t I? Why the hell couldn’t I keep my emotions under control anymore?

I felt his hand on my wrist; looking up, I could see that he was upset too.

‘Don’t–don’t cry; look I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I know what you have been through with your step dad and that, ’an all of a sudden you are this big football star, who wants to be a girl…’

‘I am a girl.’ I whispered, rather pleased somehow that his hand was still on my wrist, so close to my hand.

‘Are you really? You aren’t just going through what my mum would call a phase?’

‘If it’s phase, it’s one that’s lasted most of my life and now that I might lose my–my genitals, it looks like I could be physically one sooner than I thought.’

‘What do you mean, lose your genitals? What’s happened?’

‘I’ve been to see a specialist today and she said…’ I told him everything I knew and he looked shocked. He took his hand away from my wrist and pushed his unruly hair out of his eyes.

‘S—So what happens if you do lose your erm–genitals?’

‘I’m not sure yet. Just because I won’t have any wouldn’t make me a girl. I could take male hormones and that would give me the male look and strength I suppose, but if I didn’t and started taking estrogen that would give me bigger breasts…’

‘Are…are they your breasts?’

‘Yes, not much yet, but they’re big enough to cause problems when I’m in boy mode.’

‘Oh, bugger!’

‘As you say, “oh bugger”. If the club or, God forbid, the press get to know, I would be in soooo much trouble.’

‘Fancy another drink?’

‘No thanks.’

He asked me some more questions about the medical side of things; a lot of which I didn’t yet know the answer.

‘So I’ve got to wait and see the results of these tests and then make some sort of decision. I want to at least play for Melchester until the end of the season, but if I can’t then I don’t know what will happen.’

We were both quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts. Andrew was toying with his glass and I was wondering where all this was going. After a while he looked up and smiled.

‘I’ve been a bit of a pratt, haven’t I?’

We looked at each other and for some reason started laughing.

The tension vanished and we began talking like friends–but it seemed different; Andrew was talking to me like he would a girl, I think. It was difficult to pin down but he definitely was treating me differently.

He looked at his watch.

‘Look I have to go and see mum. I’ll ring you tonight. Are you still on the same mobile number?’

‘No, I had to change it.’ I replied and gave him my new number.

‘Right, speak to you later then?’

‘Okay.’

He hesitated and then in a rush said. ‘I think you look a lovely girl and nothing like Mark when you’re dressed like that. It’s funny, when you play football, you can be quite aggressive, I’ve seen you chop down players and all that stuff, but now, looking like you do, you are all girl.’

‘Girls do that playing football, you know, it’s not just a boy thing. Girls can be aggressive.’

‘Yes but…’

‘Do you mind?’

‘Do I mind what?’

‘My being all girl?’

He stood up and looked at me.

‘No, I don’t mind; in fact I think–no I’ll speak to you later, ’bye.’

‘’Bye.’

On the way home, I thought about him, not really knowing my feeling toward him. It was strange, I was experiencing the after effects of those dodgy pills and my libido was, I thought zero and yet, I had feelings, for a boy. How wacky was that?

Claire was her usual inquisitive self, but I played dumb and wouldn’t tell her what Andrew and I talked about. I could see Mummy’s eyes in the rear view mirror and knew that I would be having some sort of interrogation session when I got home.

When we finally arrived home–it seemed to take an age for some reason–I said I had a headache and needed to lie down. With the door closed and lying down on the soft bed, I ran over all that had happened today. The medical things and my talk with Andrew; it was a lot to take in and I wasn’t sure where everything was going. All I knew was that my future looked far from clear and I felt that a lot of things about my future were totally out of my control.

I must have fallen asleep. Something woke me up and when I looked at my watch, I noticed that it was nearly four pm.

I yawned and got up. I would have loved to have gone out for a run in the grounds, but remembered what the club physio said; that I should be careful with my neck, otherwise I might not be fit enough for the game.

Instead, I went downstairs to see what was going on. Josie was feeding the twins; Jeff was in the study and Claire must have been in her room, because I couldn’t find her downstairs. I didn’t want any questions, so I just told Josie that I was going for a walk and left her to feed and clean up after the girls.

It was nice, if a bit cold as I strolled around. Mind you, the clean cold fresh air woke me up a bit as I pottered around looking at the various trees and plants in the formal garden. I hadn’t been to this part before, but loved the fact that even in winter; some of the plants had pretty flowers. I stood in front of one lovely bed pink flowers and jumped as I realised that someone was talking to me.

‘That’s a Pansy.’

I turned around and saw an old man, with a spade in his hand and a flower pot in the other.

‘Oh, sorry; I didn’t see you there.’

‘That’s all right, Miss. I didn’t mean to startle you.’

‘I’m Susan.’

‘Good day to you, Miss Susan, my name’s Jake; I’m the gardener.’

‘I—I haven’t seen you here before.’

‘I live in the cottage at the other end of the property with my wife Elsie. She used to cook for the owners, but she retired about two year ago–not that she wanted to.’

‘Why did she?’

‘What, Miss?’

‘Why did she retire?’

‘Because the owner’s wife wanted to do all the cooking herself.’

‘But not the gardening.’

‘No she didn’t have green fingers,’ he replied, laughing.

I smiled; he seemed a nice old man.

‘I didn’t know that the place came with a resident gardener.’

‘It doesn’t and I’m not paid any more, but we are sitting tenants and I feel that I should at least do my bit by keeping the garden tidy.’

‘Well I had better let you get home, Mr?’

‘Just call me Jake.’

‘Thanks, Jake; I’ll see you around.’

‘Okay, Miss.’

‘Oh, please call me Susan.’

‘I can’t do that, all the same to you, Miss Susan, will that be all right?’

‘If you insist.’

He just smiled and I continued my walk.

By the time I got back to the house, it was beginning to get dark and I was quite cold. Claire was watching TV–well she was sort of asleep in front of it, so I didn’t disturb her. I went into the kitchen where Josie looked as if she was trying to make something. Her hair was covered in flour and the kitchen table looked like a minor war had taken place on it.

‘What’s up?’ I asked inquisitively.

‘I’m trying to make a meat pie.’

‘Oh.’

‘Don’t oh me, Susan, you know cooking isn’t my strong point.’

‘I’m sure it will be nice.’

‘Mmm.’

I left her to it and went up to my bedroom. I had an idea but didn’t want to say anything at the moment.

I put my coat in the wardrobe and deciding I wanted to change, got undressed and scratched my itchy breasts distractedly as I thought about what I would wear. In the end, I settled on a cream cotton blouse and black thigh-length skirt which was a sort of cotton mix. Feeling a bit bored, I put on some makeup and brushed my hair a different way. I liked the effect so it stayed that way.
My phone sort of chirped and I saw it was Mum, calling from bonny Scotland.

‘Hi, honey, how are you?’

‘Hello, Mum; I’m glad you called, I was going to ring you later.’

‘How did it go at the doctors today?’

Well, it was like this…’

I told her all that had happened. She was worried about the results of the test on the pills and the fact that I may have been damaged by them.

‘So when is the op?’

‘I don’t know yet, but the doctor said sooner rather than later.’

‘I should come down…’

‘No, mum; with step father being around somewhere, I think you’re safer where you are.’

‘I miss you, love?’

‘I know, I miss you too. Remember, you’ve been through the mill as well as me and you need Auntie Chris to look after you for now. I have Josie and Jeff remember.’

‘I know, they’re lovely people, aren’t they?’

‘Yes, I love them lots.’

‘That’s good; anyway I had better go as your aunt wants me to go to a whist drive, whatever that is.’

‘Okay, mum, I’ll ring you real soon; love you.’

‘Love you too, sweetie, bye.’

‘Bye.’

Tea was okay, but the pie was somewhat overcooked. I didn’t say anything, but remembered the idea I had earlier. I would try to sort it out over the weekend.

Claire and I watched old episodes of Buffy after tea lying on my bed. She tried to pump me about Andrew but I just said that we had patched up our differences and left it at that. She wasn’t happy about it, but that was her problem.

I was quite tired, so after watching two episodes, I decided that I needed some sleep. After going downstairs for some cocoa, I got ready for bed and slipped under the covers in record time. I read a girlie mag for about twenty minutes and then the phone rang. It was Andrew.

‘H…hello?’

‘Hi, Susan, its Andrew.’

‘Hi, Andrew, how is your mum?’

‘Didn’t Claire tell you?’

‘Oh yes, she’s doing okay. Sorry, I’m a bit zoned out at the moment.’

‘Yea, you’ve been through a lot today.’

‘Tell me about it…’

‘About today.’

I wondered what he was going to say. ‘Yes?’

I could hear him take a deep breath.

‘Look, I’m sorry that I came on a bit heavy at first. It was all a bit of a shock seeing you like that…’

‘Like what?’

‘You know–a girl.’

‘Didn’t I look right?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘As a girl or did I look like Mark dressed as a girl.’

There was a pause.

‘No…you looked lovely.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I…I don’t know. I’m all confused, you are a mate and then you look like that…a girl and a pretty one too…God this is so hard.’

‘Do…do you like me as a girl?’

There was silence at the other end and I wondered if he had ended the call or something then I heard a whisper that I could hardly catch.

‘Yes,’

My heart was thumping, in a brief flash, I knew that he felt something more for me than I thought possible.

‘Look, Susan, I know that I’m being weird, but I do like you…as a girl, and…and… I was, erm wondering if…I, I mean we could, I mean might erm…’

‘Go out?’

‘Y…yes.’

‘On a date?’ I asked. ‘Mmm’

‘Like a boy and girl date?’

‘If…if you want. If you don’t, I still want to be your friend, I would understand if…’

‘Yes.’

‘And we could still be mates and hang around and…did you just say yes?’

‘Yes I did. But no heavy stuff, we need to be careful I don’t want to hurt you and you, I hope don’t want to hurt me.’

‘Course not–are we weird, you know, doing this?’

I thought for a moment. ‘Well, I don’t feel weird, do you?’

‘No, it feels sort of okay, you know?’

‘Yes, I do know what you mean but we’re only fifteen so we’ve got plenty of time to make sure we don’t do anything silly.’

‘Yes, you’re right. Look, I’ve just seen what the time is, can I speak t’you tomorrow?’

‘Yes, okay–no, I can’t; the team are going up to Manethorpe tomorrow for the match on Saturday so it might be difficult…Look I’ll try to ring you from the hotel tomorrow night but don’t throw a wobbly if I don’t because I don’t know what’s happening yet.’

‘Ring me if you can, if you can’t you can always text me.’

‘Okay, you had better go I suppose…’

‘Yes…goodnight then.’

‘Night.’

The phone went dead. I stared at my mobile as I thought about the conversation I had just had. Agreeing to go out with a boy was a strange thing for me to think about; it made me wonder about my sexuality. I never thought that I would be attracted to boys, but thinking about it, I hadn’t thought about girls that way, either. I felt a bit damp down below for some reason, so I went to the bathroom and washed my panties out. I tried not to think about the cause of the wetness, it was all too much after the day I had had. After pulling on a clean pair I returned to my bed and, cuddling my rabbit, I went to sleep.

The following afternoon found me back in boy mode. Jeff had given me a lift to the club and in what seemed like no time I was aboard the luxury coach with the other players on the way to Manethorpe.

The atmosphere was relaxed, some of the lads had a card school, going and I was invited to join in but declined as I was clueless about cards. Others were reading their books or listening to their iPods. I took the opportunity to text Claire, Josie, Jeff, my mum and Andrew. By the time I had finished, my fingers were quite worn out!

The physio came and sat down beside me as we travelled up the motorway.

‘How’s the neck, Mark?’

‘Okay, not a twinge.’

‘Turn your head to the left and right as far as you can go.’

I did as he asked.

‘Nothing?’

‘No; it feels all right.’

‘That’s good, I’ll check again before the match. Any other niggles?’

Apart from my crushed breasts needing scratching? ‘No, I feel fine.’

‘That’s good, see you later.’

He got up, leaving me to read the text just received from Andrew.

Hi Susan,
I hope you r ok
My mum ok, Claire with me. Still okay 4 date?
And

I replied straight away.

Hi And,
Glad mum ok. Looking forward 2 date. Have u told Claire?
Sus

I hadn’t had time to talk to Claire today as she had to go out and I was busy with packing and reading some long boring contract that Jeff had handed me.

A few seconds later came the reply.

Yes, she’s kwl, wants 2 B bridesmaid, shes nuts.
And

I wasn’t sure that it was a good idea to tell Motor Mouth Claire about Andrew but I realised that she would find out sooner rather than later. What was the betting that Josie and Jeff would know all about it by tea time? Mind you, it wasn’t serious and it was only a date so what harm would it do to tell them?

The coach arrived at the hotel at six o’clock. We had a bite to eat in the restaurant and then went to our rooms. I had been worried that I might have to share a room, but because of my age, I was given an individual one.

Some of the other lads went back downstairs for a while to watch a football match on Sky TV but I just said that I had to catch up with a few people and I would see them in the morning.

‘Going to have an all night chat with the girlfriend?’ said one of the trainers laughing.

‘No one would have him,’ said Ogsood, digging me in the ribs.

‘Ha ha.’ I said, waving them off and going to my room. If only they knew!

They were a good bunch and I liked them all. I did wonder when I joined the club if there were any prima donnas then I laughed as that was a term for a lady opera singer!

I went up to the bedroom and let myself in using the pass card.

Locking the door, I quickly stripped off, had a shower making sure my hair would stay dry by using a shower cap, dried myself and then from the bottom of my case, I pulled out a long pink satin nightie.

I sighed as I let the slinky fabric slide down my body. It was nice to get out of boy mode and be in happy girlieland again! I switched on the TV and watched a nature programme, it didn’t take me long to drop off to sleep even though it was quite early.

The phone went off and it took a few moments to realise where I was.

I reached for the phone and nearly dropped it.

‘Mmm?’

‘Good morning; this is your morning call, it’s seven-thirty am.’

I put the phone down and took a few moments to become compos mentis, as one of my boring old teachers used to say. Then my eyes snapped wide open again.

I was playing my first away game and it was against Manethorpe, the hardest team in the league and with the worst record. The ground was intimidating and the crowd were fanatical. According to the lads, Manethorpe had born a grudge against Melchester ever since our team won the FA cup four years previously with a dubious goal. This game was not going to be a walk in the park and I expected to get a few bruises before the day was out.

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To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape. and to the equally lovely Angharad for her expertise and support.

Our team bus drove down the long straight road leading to Manethorpe’s stadium. Even this early, with almost two hours until kick off, the road was a seething mass of black and white–the Manethorpe colours....     Football Girl Chapter 14 By Susan Brown

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Previously...

The ’phone went off and it took a few moments to realise where I was.

I reached for the ’phone and nearly dropped it.

‘Mmm?’

‘Good morning; this is your morning call, it’s seven-thirty am.’

I put the phone down and took a few moments to become compos mentis, as one of my boring old teachers used to say. Then my eyes snapped wide open again.

I was playing my first away game and it was against Manethorpe, the hardest team in the league and with the worst record. The ground was intimidating and the crowd were fanatical.

According to the lads, Manethorpe had born a grudge against Melchester ever since our team won the FA cup four years previously with a dubious goal. This game was not going to be a walk in the park and I expected to get a few bruises before the day was out.

And now the story continues…

I had never experienced anything like it.

Our team bus drove down the long straight road leading to Manethorpe’s stadium. Even this early, with almost two hours until kick off, the road was a seething mass of black and white–the Manethorpe colours. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy playing here, but judging by the reaction of the crowd to our team bus, we weren’t only going to be playing against the Manethorpe eleven, but their forty-odd thousand supporters too!

Hands were slapping on the sides of the bus, making a hell of a din and then the spitting started. Why do people act like that? Football’s only a game. Don’t they have their own lives or do they have to live their lives through their team? I don’t know, but I thought it was decidedly sad.

Eventually, we passed under the famous twin arches of the Manethorpe stadium and turned left, past the gated enclosure that led to the private car and coach park.

We grabbed our things. We were all rather quiet and I wondered if the other players were intimidated by all this hostility. Being a new player, I hadn’t been exposed to this level of fanatic hatred before. I knew that last season, Manethorpe had been fined several times for the behaviour–or lack of it–of their supporters.

I followed my team mates through some swing doors and along a corridor. There wasn’t anyone around to greet us. Was this the welcome we should expect from another premier league club? Or was it part of the silly mind games that some clubs seemed to like playing? I didn’t expect a red carpet, but I thought that they would at least say hello or something.

Soon, we were in a plain, featureless changing room, nothing like our plush one at Melchester. There were hooks upon which to hang clothes and benches to sit on and not much else. Oh, there were some showers and a few other bits of furniture, but it didn’t look exactly welcoming.

Several of the players were chatting and didn’t seem all that phased by the décor of the place: perhaps they were used to it.

After finding the bag with my kit in, I quickly changed, turning my face to the wall so no one could see my chest. My breasts were fairly flat, using the special vest that compressed my optional added extras, but I was taking no chances.

Most of the other lads wore something under their football shirts, it being a very cold winter’s day, so I wasn’t concerned about being anything looking out of the ordinary. However, if I was still playing for the team when the warmer weather came, it might become a bit of a problem.

As soon as we had our boots on we were ready to go out on the pitch for a warm up. It was interesting to hear what the lads were saying about the opposition and I took it all in as I didn’t want any surprises.

As a fan, I knew how good they were, almost as good as us last year, but ahead of us in the table this year, because of our appalling injury problems and the fact that they were a good, if very dirty team.

Several of their players had a reputation of falling down easily and milking the crowd and more importantly the ref. and his assistants. We had to be careful in their penalty area so as not to give them the opportunity to dive and get a cheap penalty.

Then there were their back three defenders, who between them this year, had been given several red cards and numerous yellows, so they were dirty, very dirty. A few weeks ago, one Plimstock player had his leg broken in several places by “Chopper” Davis, Manethorpe’s centre back; the injured player wasn’t expected to play again–ever.

I didn’t want to psych myself up too much, so I sort of zoned out after that. I had no wish to go out on the pitch, scared and unable to do my job.

We made our way down the tunnel and out on the pitch. It was forty minutes before kickoff now and the roars of the crowd got louder as we neared the tunnel exit. Our manager and his team were there and were welcome faces amongst the hostile opposition.

We were greeted by thousands of boos and cat-calls as we ran on the pitch. It was so nice to be made to feel welcome.

Our captain, Ogsood led us to the left where our supporters were. There were not as many of our fans as I would have liked, only a couple of thousand at the most, and they were all behind the goal waving and shouting at us. At least we had some support here and we waved back at the crowd as we started to kick some balls around and do our warm ups.

At the other end of the pitch, the opposition were doing their warm ups to the cheers and chants of their adoring supporters. The ground had filled up completely so there was a full house, making the noise deafening and it was almost impossible to hear what other players were saying.

One of our trainers came over and gestured that the warm-up was over so we ran off the pitch, down the tunnel and back into the plain, depressing, changing room. I kind of had a bet with myself that the other team had a much superior one to this.

Mr McPherson was waiting for us, a mug of steaming tea in his hand. He had a slight smile on his lips. He had seen all this before and wasn’t fazed like I was with the hostility of this place. I wondered if I was strong enough to take this kind of thing. I kind of wished I was back home, in a nice top and skirt and…

‘Right lads, settle down for a minute; we‘ve not got long and I just want a quick word with you about tactics.’

His gaze swept over us, his face expressionless. I wondered if he really thought that this team, not his normal first team squad by any means, could actually win the game.

‘Ye know about them, we’ve been over and over their merits, strengths and weaknesses, so I won’t go over that again. What I want ye tae do is go out there and give it your best. Their main weak point is–and has been for the past two seasons–that they come forward too fast, leaving their back exposed, especially at home. Try to take advantage of that and we can nick a quick goal. Don’t let them settle on the ball, and take every opportunity you can to go for the goal. Enough of the speeches, I know that ye’re all great players so go out there and prove it to me.’

We went back into the tunnel; the other team was there already. I was surprised at the greeting. I thought that they would be at our throats, but there were several handshakes and back slapping as we lined up next to them. I said a shy ‘hello’ to Justin Blake, their leading striker as we waited for the ref to get his finger out and lead us out on the pitch.

‘I’ve seen you play, Mark, great player.’

‘Thanks.’ I said, not knowing what else to say.

‘Maybe we’ll play together for England one day.’

Justin was England’s current top scorer so that was quite a compliment.

‘That would be great.’

Our conversation stopped as we moved out to face the clamouring hordes. The noise was deafening and the chanting intoxicating. All right, they weren’t chanting and singing for us, but the atmosphere was electrifying and made my goose bumps have goose bumps.

We ran to our end of the pitch and kicked some balls about; getting ourselves warmed up again for what I knew was going to be a crunch match in the literal sense.

The whistle blew and we took up our positions; a few seconds later–to the cheers of the crowd telling us that we were going to get stuffed–the game started.

Then first half was hell. They were all over us like a rash. My first touch of the ball gave me an inkling of what was going to happen as I was barged out of the way, none too gently, by their massive Russian centre back–Osmonovich.

He helped me up and shouted in my ear.

‘Little boys should play with toys and not play a man’s game.’

Well he got that one wrong as I wanted to be a girl–but not a little one!

We tried to get into their half to relieve the pressure on our back four, but it was like the tide coming in, they were at us again and again. They had had six shots on target compared to our one. It didn’t look good, but we are nothing if not fighters and we gradually got into the game by spraying balls down the flanks and with our full backs overlapping, we managed to get a few decent crosses in.

It was with a decided sense of relief, that half-time came without any goals being scored.

We sat in the dressing room having isotonic drinks and rubbing our sore muscles. I hadn’t come away unscathed as I had a large bruise on my upper thigh, where I had been tackled high–out of the sight of the ref. of course. I was already tired and concerned that my medical problems might cause problems as the game continued.

Desmond Etoo, our left back who had only just returned from injury, had a nasty gash on his leg from another studs up tackle and it looked like he would probably need a couple of stitches for him to be able to continue. All in all, we were a sorry looking bunch, but we weren’t downhearted because, despite all the fouls and injuries, we had held them to a scoreless draw so far.

Mr McPherson was talking quietly to individual players and I could see why he is considered one of the best managers in the game as the lads were visibly perking up after his little talk with them. After bit, he came and sat down next to me.

‘Well, Mark, you’ve done quite well so far. Don’t let that Russian animal get to you. He always tries to psych new players out. What you need to do in the second half is move upfield a bit more: the lads will cover you. If you keep changing sides, they won’t know how to deal with you. I haven’t come here to lose or draw. We need the points. If you have a sniff at the goal, go for it. No one is going to say anything as long as you try, okay?’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘Good man.’ He tapped me on the shoulder and moved to the next man.

All too soon we had to get back out there and after a few words of encouragement from the manager and the other staff, we returned the battlefield–to boos, of course and a few cheers from our small, if loyal, band of supporters.

The second half started as the first had finished, with Manethorpe packing our half with players and making most of the play.

Then disaster struck. Justin Blake made a break for it in our area. Etoo went to tackle him, missed him and Blake went down, arms flaying and he was writhing about in agony as if someone had fatally injured him.

PENALTY!

I couldn’t believe it. I had been in a good position and Etoo hadn’t touched him. We all ran over to the ref and protested and unbelievably I got a yellow card together with our captain Ogsood and Etoo.

We were seething with righteous indignation as Blake who had recovered miraculously after having the magic spray applied to the area that was causing so much agony, put the ball down on the spot took three steps back and shot at the goal.

Ivan Gloshter, our goal keeper, didn’t seem too concerned as the ball flew to the left hand side of the goal. Somehow, he managed to get his gloved finger tips to the ball, pushing it inches past the post.

SAVE!

Our fans went wild, we went wild; Manethorpe groaned and Blake put his head in his hands.

It was still game on!

After the failed penalty, Manethorpe came at us with everything they had got. I did my bit as I managed to spray the ball about and generally make a nuisance of myself when the ball on rare occasions actually left our half. I even had a shot at goal which hit the crossbar.

On the sixty minute mark, the boss decided to change things around a bit and we had three subs, a brave decision as I thought that changing the team’s shape might de-stabilise us. But Etoo was still suffering from the knock and Turner and Arnold were suffering similarly with knocks from some bruising tackles, so they had to come off.

The new players slotted in okay and we carried on our rearguard action to prevent Manethorpe from scoring. It was amazing that they hadn’t scored yet. They had several appeals for penalties and in fact Blake was yellow carded for going down in the box after a puff of wind caught his hair.

Things got more brutal, if that was possible and I got hacked down by a defender just outside the box; luckily only my pride was injured and we had a fee kick. One of our forwards, Lepe, took the free kick but it was one of those days because he sliced it and the ball went wide and hit a cameraman–shame.

The pressure on us continued and they managed to score a goal–which was disallowed as one of their players was an inch offside. The crowd was not amused and vented their wrath. I only hoped that the bleep machine on Match Of The Day was in full working order as the language was enough make a brickie blush!

It came to full time and there were four minutes of injury time to play. I was so tired; I could barely run up the pitch. I wasn’t anything like as strong as the other players and wondered if I could do anything for my stamina. I just wished for the whistle to go and soon!

I never did like their goalkeeper, Tom Johansson, who was a Swedish international. He was big headed and thought that he was God’s gift to football. He had a newspaper column in one of the trashier tabloid dailies and he was always going on about how great he was and his team too and how poor every other team was. He seemed to target our club for some reason and he loved the fact that we hadn’t done very well this year, not because we had terrible injury problems, oh no, but that we just couldn’t play anymore and deserved to be relegated.

He had the ball now. He went to the edge of his area and kicked it up field.

I was standing about twenty feet inside our half and wasn’t feeling that great. I was blowing hard and had my hands on my knees. I looked up just in time to see the ball come straight down at me. My football brain took over. I saw that Tom was walking slowly back towards the goal mouth and nowhere near the goal.

I connected sweetly on the volley and the ball sailed back towards Manethorpe’s goal. It was a fluke, but as Tom looked around when his players shouted at him; he stood amazed as the ball gently flew over him and went in the net, just below the bar.

GOAL!

I was mobbed by our players, our supporters screamed with joy. Manethorpe were for once quiet and as we went back to the centre spot to restart the game, I ached from all the back slapping I had got.

The ref. blew his whistle to restart and almost immediately after that, blew for time. The game was over and we had won.

On the coach returning back home, I reflected on the match and its aftermath. The Manethorpe players were generous with us and congratulated us on a good game. The supporters weren’t so nice and we had a torrent of abuse right after the game and also when our coach left the stadium. The boss said that we made him very proud of us and it was good that he didn’t mention my fluke goal as it is a team game and everyone played their part. I was pleased that I didn’t have to do a post match interview with the TV people. They were told that I was in treatment, in truth, I was terrified of doing interviews and I bottled it.

I slept most of the way back, I was knackered. The physio did say while I was awake that I would have to get my fitness levels up because a season where you are playing two games a week can cause havoc to a body not in peak physical condition. Little did he know why I was so out of shape!

We arrived back at the club, very late. I had rung Jeff to tell him when we were arriving and he was there to pick me up.

After saying goodbye to everyone, we were soon on the way home. I was really exhausted so Jeff didn’t say much apart from the fact that he enjoyed the game, especially my goal and that he was proud of me.

Josie was up when we got back; Claire had gone to bed but left a message on the kitchen table.

‘Hi,
You were awesome, loved the goal. See you in the morning. They were raving about it on MOTD,
Luv
Claire
PS you know who rang and thinks you are well bad!

I smiled tiredly and just gave Jeff and Josie a kiss goodnight and went to bed.

After washing my teeth, cleaning my hair and brushing my face….hang on that’s wrong…After washing my face, cleaning my teeth and brushing my hair, I slipped on a silky nightie and got under the covers with my cuddly rabbit. I was so tired I think I was asleep in seconds.

Next morning, something jumped up and down on my bed; either that or there was an earthquake.

‘Wazzat?’ I said coherently.

‘Susan, you were great, I loved that goal.’

‘Mmm,’ I said, burying my face under the quilt.

‘Susan, come on it’s time to get up.’

‘Why?’ I mumbled.

‘Andrew rang me last night. I sort of arranged for us to go on a double date tonight.’

That woke me up and my eyes snapped open.

‘Date?’ I squeaked.

‘Yea, like sorry I knew that you two wanted to go out, so you know that John and I are sort of going out? I rang him and suggested we go out on a date with Andrew and you…what are you looking like that at me for.’

‘So,’ I said keeping calm and collected, ‘John knows about me now!’

Claire went white.

‘Oh God, like no. I wouldn’t tell him that, he thinks that you are a friend of mine.’

‘And when he finds out about me?’

‘I won’t tell and Andrew certainly won’t.’

I remembered John, a quiet boy, good looking, with dark hair and a bit taller than Claire. I sort of knew that they were an item, but didn’t want to pry. I had only spoken to him once and that was a while ago. He wasn’t in the same classes as me when I was at school, so I didn’t think he would recognise me as Susan.

‘I don’t know, it’s quite a risk and then my parents may not like me going out, I’m still only 15.’

Claire made a face.

‘What?’

‘I sort of mentioned it to them and they said that it was okay as long as you are happy to go. They said that they wanted you to have as normal a life as possible under the circumstances.’

‘Normal–normal! Let’s get this straight I live at home as a girl and I play professional football as a boy. I have half the worlds’–well UK press anyway, wanting to know about me and my personal life. I have a mad step father out there who doesn’t exactly love me. I have a medical problem that might need surgery; oh yes, and I fancy a boy while I still have my boy bits attached, is that normal?’

Claire looked at me frowning. ‘Well it would be if you were in a soap or something. Anyway Jeff said that we could only go if he takes us and picks us up and we don’t do any funny business and that includes me as they are in locust parenthesis or something. So, do you want to go?’

‘I don’t have anything to wear?’

‘Spoken like a true girl. Well there are places called shopping centres and even on a Sunday, they love to take your money and let’s, like face it you aren’t short of a bob or two.’

I looked at her and she looked at me and Rabbit looked at both of us with a bit of a blank expression.

‘Let’s do it!’

‘Like, cool.’

---

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape. and to the equally lovely Angharad for her expertise and support.

Here are few links that might interest you. The first is about Brazil’s 1970 World Cup team and if you look at about 3 and a half minutes in, you will see Pele’s attempt at goal — –that was the inspiration I had for Mark’s goal.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSuxkQuAsk8&feature=related

The next link is a collection of fantastic volleys.

Magic volley’s http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7LFSZY-3sc

In a bit of a daze, I had a shower and then got dressed in a sky blue top and jeans. I was downstairs having breakfast in double quick time....     Football Girl Chapter 15 By Susan Brown

---

 
Previously...

'Anyway Jeff said that we could only go if he takes us and picks us up and we don’t do any funny business and that includes me as they are in locust parenthesis or something. So, do you want to go?’

‘I don’t have anything to wear?’

‘Spoken like a true girl. Well there are places called shopping centres and even on a Sunday, they love to take your money and let’s, like, face it you aren’t short of a bob or two.’

I looked at her and she looked at me and Rabbit looked at both of us with a bit of a blank expression.

‘Let’s do it!’

‘Like, cool.’

And now the story continues…

In a bit of a daze, I had a shower and then got dressed in a sky blue top and jeans. I was downstairs having breakfast in double quick time. Josie and Jeff had gone out to get some food shopping and left a message.

Girls, we won’t be long, just gone for some supplies. If you go out, leave a note about where you are. Don’t forget to take your ’phones with you.

Love, Josie and Jeff.

Munching on some toast and marmalade, I looked at Claire.

‘So, Claire, that’s another fine mess you got me into.’

‘Like, what?’

‘Well, I wish you would ask me first if I wanted to go on a date before blabbing like that to Andrew.’

‘Look, you like him and he likes you. What’s the problem?’

‘I’m still uncomfortable with all this. I thought I was into girls. Well not really as I didn’t have sexy thoughts at all really–’

Then I remembered my damp knickers after my last conversation with Andrew and moved swiftly on.

‘Anyway, that’s beside the point; don’t you think?’

‘About what?’

‘John; he doesn’t know about me and I’m not sure that a double date is a good idea.’

‘Look, he hardly knows you as Mark, so how is he going to, like, twig that Susan is, in fact Mark Hurst, superstar footballer and darling of Melchester, ya know?

‘I suppose. Look are you going to finish that toast or what?’

‘In a hurry then?’

‘Yeah, to throttle you. I’m going to ring for a taxi.’

‘Okay, the number’s by the phone.’

I grabbed the handset of the wall phone and dialled the number.

‘Hello, is that Fast Cabs? Can you take me and my friend to town?’

I told the man where we lived and he said the taxi would be with us in ten minutes. I pressed the gate thingy so he would be able to come up the drive and then went upstairs to put on some makeup and brush my hair. Nothing fancy, but looking at myself, I couldn’t see any sign of Mark hiding underneath.

By the time I was downstairs, Claire was waiting with her jacket on and a slice of toast in her hand.

‘Don’t you ever stop eating?’

‘Yeah, when I’m asleep,’ she said, then poked her tongue out at me. I opened the door and did the same to her just as the taxi man was going to ring the bell. Talk about looking stoopid!

We bundled into the back of the taxi, giggling like schoolgirls. The driver didn’t say much but his eyes went up and he shook his head. That was enough to start us off again!

It took twenty minutes to get into town. As we passed Melchester’s stadium I could see people milling about. The shop seemed quite full. On an impulse I asked the driver to stop.

‘What’s up?’ asked Claire.

‘Tell you in a minute.’

‘We’ll get off here.’ I said to the taxi driver. Can you pick us up in half an hour?’

‘It’ll cost?’

‘I know. How much do we owe you so far?’

‘Ten pounds.’

I gave him the money and a pound tip.

‘See you in thirty?’

‘All right, love. I’ll be here.’

We got out, Claire looking very puzzled; the taxi drove off leaving us just outside Melchester’s gates. I dragged Claire over to the side.

‘Claire, tell me that I don’t look like Mark?’

‘You don’t, you know that. You’re hair, clothes makeup–nothing like him or you–oh you know what I mean! Even your eyes look different with the makeup. Like, what's up doc?’

‘I want to go in the club shop.’

‘Why?’

I was a bit embarrassed. ‘Well, I want to see if there is anything for sale with me on it, you know shirts, and stuff like that.’

‘Why?’

‘Don’t know really. I suppose I want to see if I’m accepted yet–as a first team player, by the club and the fans.’

‘You know you are–’

‘–Please, can we go in?’

‘You are like, silly sometimes. Why don’t you accept that you’re a great player and…’

‘Can we go now without the lecture?’

‘Blimey, the way you’re carrying on as if like, it’s your time of the month.’

‘Ha ha.’ I replied, dragging her towards the shop.

There were loads of people around and to be truthful, I wondered if I would be recognised. No one paid any attention though and we joined the crowd entering the shop.

I was amazed, it was only ten thirty and the shop was really crowded. Then I stopped dead. I clutched Claire’s arm tight making her yelp a bit and pull away.

‘What?’

I didn’t answer. In front of me on the far wall were about twelve screens, large screens and they were playing yesterdays match and the goal I had scored. I hadn’t seen it and I hadn’t seen me like that–times twelve. People who had just come in were watching it too.

I saw the ball from the camera angle obviously. Tom Johansson kicked the ball out and the camera followed it. I saw myself look up and volley it back towards the goal and then we saw it go in the back of the net with a dumbstruck and rather stupid looking Tom looking on.

The shop went wild and I could hear ‘Markie, Markie,’ being chanted by a lot of the fans.

Claire pulled me over to the side and looked at me.

‘You haven’t seen that before, have you?’

I shook my head.

‘It was a great goal.’

‘It was a fluke.’

‘Rubbish.’

‘It’s not rubbish. On MOTD last night, they reckoned that it was one of the best goals they had seen this season. You were man of the match, did you know?’

‘No, why would I be that, I didn’t do that much.’

She dragged me over to the coffee shop sat me down in the corner, then grabbed two coffees for us. It was relatively quiet in there and it didn’t take long for her to have a go at me.

‘Look, Susan, you need to get real here. You are a great football player and you can only get better. Hell, I’m not much of a fan but since you started playing, I’ve become, like an instant expert.’

‘But–’

‘–Never mind ‘but’, the major thing that’s doing your head in is that you still don’t think that you are any good. Well that’s rubbish. Everyone is saying it. You are a great player. They reckon that you will play for England soon and be like, the youngest player to win a cap.’

‘But–’

‘–It’s time you like realise it and stop putting yourself down. That’s why we’re here. You can’t believe that you are good enough for all this and you wanted to like, see what other people think.’

I looked at her. It was true. I was unsure of myself. I suppose I wondered if all this was some sort of dream; one from which I would wake up and find myself at home being beaten up by my step father. It all seemed dreamlike. Here was I sitting in the club shop; pictures up on the wall of me everywhere; replays on the plasma screens of my playing. T-shirts, mugs, posters, all with my name on. It was unreal.

‘Can we go now?’ I asked in a small voice.

‘Not till you say that you are a good footballer–no a great footballer.’

‘Claire I can’t say that. It’s for other people to say, not me. Look I am a very good player, is that good enough for you?’

‘It’ll do for now. So, want to buy an ‘I love Markie’ t-shirt?’

‘Sod off!’ I laughed as we walked out and went to the entrance. The taxi pulled up just as we arrived, so it couldn’t have been better timing.

‘So,’ said the taxi driver as we pulled away, ‘did you see Mark Hurst’s goal, yesterday, stunner wasn’t it?’

I looked at Claire and she looked at me and we just giggled.

The taxi driver just shook his head and mumbled something about daft girls and that set us off again.

He dropped us off at the entrance to the shopping centre. We asked him to pick us up in three hours.

As we browsed the shops, I wondered what I should wear then I stopped dead, nearly causing an accident with a woman with a buggy who was close behind me.

‘Hang on.’

‘What?’

‘You haven’t told me where we’re going on this date.’

‘Didn’t I? Oh we are going to the La GoGo topless bar, down on Canal Street.’

‘WHAT!’

Claire just laughed. ‘Gotcha! Nah, we’re like, gonna have a burger and then go to the pictures.’

My heart stopped thumping and I just slapped her arm. ‘Do that to me again and I’ll murder you!’

‘Sorry; your face it was like, priceless, ya know?’

Now I knew where we were going, I knew that I wouldn’t need anything too fancy. So after trying on about a thousand dresses, tops, skirts and leggings, I came up with something I liked, not formal, but smart. I chose a cream silky top that showed a bit of my chest–hey if you’ve got it, why not flaunt it. Then, I found a black, pleated skirt that went half way down my thighs, not a mini but nice, length wise. I didn’t want to flash my panties after all and I also didn’t want to wear a mini as it might get chilly and even under tights; the bruise on my upper thigh might show–practical eh?

With the skirt and top, together with a gorgeous cream leather jacket from Monsoon that I just had to buy, I felt that I would look irresistible tonight–not that I wanted anything like that because Andrew and I are just good friends. I found some black shoes that went really well with the outfit after searching in only seven shops and trying on fifty pairs of shoes, I went back to the first shop and bought the first ones I had tried on.

We stopped off at a café for a coke and a sticky bun. All this shopping requires a fuel top up on a regular basis. Claire of course hadn’t a thing to wear herself, and she had tried on as much as I had, if not more. Her chosen outfit was a dark blue dress from Per Una, an angora jumper which closely matched the colour of the dress and some black boots that frankly, I lusted after and would borrow at the earliest opportunity.

On a whim, we went into a hair salon and managed to get our hair sorted out without an appointment. I had to be careful, as I couldn’t afford to go too girlie. I needed a style that could go either way if you know what I mean. I just told the stylist that I went to a strict catholic convent school and they were funny about certain styles. It sounded weak to me but that was all I could think of at the time. She cut it to shoulder length and feathered it. I reckoned I could get away with a low ponytail when in boy mode so that was okay.

Claire’s hair wasn’t too bad–she had a cut just the week before–so it was a question of cutting out the split ends and giving it a bit more body.

We then decided to go a bit mad and had our nails done. I had extensions put on and had them varnished all pink and glittery. Claire had extensions too and chose a silver metallic gel colour, they were fab and I decided that I would try that next time.

Finally, we rushed to Boots and got some emergency cosmetics. I hadn’t really got much, but with Claire’s semi-expert help, we chose some things that would look good on me and most importantly go with everything else.

It was time to go and with arms weighed down by several bags, we went to the main entrance. A few minutes later our taxi arrived: we got in sat down and sighed. My legs were aching from all the walking and I took my shoes off and rubbed my tired feet. It didn’t take long to get home, and after paying off the taxi, we struggled down the drive and let ourselves in.

Josie came out of the kitchen with a twin in each arm. They were covered in chocolate and looked in need of a hose down.

‘Bought out the shops have we?’

‘Haha,’ I said as we tramped upstairs.

‘Nice hair and nails by the way,’ she told our retreating backs.

‘Thanks,’ said Claire as we went.

Claire took her bags to her room and I turned down the corridor to mine. I put the bags on the floor and flopped on my bed.

I was aching and paining from yesterday’s game and our shopping expedition today. I needed to speak to the doctor soon. I was just too tired…

I must have fallen asleep, as I was shaken gently awake by Josie. ‘Come on, sleepyhead, want a sandwich for lunch?’

‘Yes please,’ I said without opening my eyes and then yawning hugely.

‘You look washed out, love. Are you sure you want to go out tonight?’

I cracked my eyes open and looked at her sitting on the bed beside me.

‘Yes, Mummy, I’ll be okay, but I think I need to see the doctor soon, I can’t stop wanting to go to sleep.’

‘Maybe she needs to up your iron tablets. You look quite pale, you know, even under that makeup and you have dark rings under your eyes. I’m not sure that you should go tonight.’

‘I’ll be all right, Mummy. I’ll have a sandwich, then come up and have a nap until I have to get ready. Is that okay?’

She looked at me sadly. ‘This isn’t all too much for you, is it? What with the football and a hectic social life, perhaps you shouldn’t do so much.’

‘I’m just a bit tired, that’s all. Look, if I feel rough by the time I have to go, I’ll cancel, okay?’

‘Okay, if you’re sure–’

I ate my sandwich. Claire was full of beans and kept going on about tonight. I was getting a bit wound up about it–not knowing where things would lead. It seemed so strange to be going on a date with a boy. Shouldn’t I be putting my hands up in horror and what if we got close?

After lunch, I went upstairs, took my jeans and top off, pulled the curtains and slipped into bed just in my panties and bra.

I was just dozing off when my ’phone rang. I checked who was calling and I saw it was Auntie Chris’s number up in Scotland.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello, Susan.’

‘Mum!’

‘How are you, love?’

‘Not too bad, a bit tired.’

‘I’m not surprised after yesterday’s game. We watched it on Sky and your Auntie went bananas when you scored that great goal.’

‘Yeah, it was good that we won.’

‘You’re so talented and I was bursting with pride that you played so well.’

‘Muu-um!’

‘Don’t mu-um me. I know you don’t like praise, but you’re a very special child to me and it’s great that you’re getting things together.’

‘How are you, Mum?’ I asked, changing the subject.

‘I’m fine; getting used to the rain. It seems to rain a lot here, but it’s gorgeous with the mountains and the lochs–it’s majestic. Your Auntie and I are going on a coach trip to Loch Ness tomorrow. I’m taking some bread for the monster.’

We both laughed.

‘So what are your plans for the next few days, Susan?’

‘We-eell I’m going on a date.’

‘A date, who with?’

‘Andrew.’ I said quietly.

There was silence at the other end.

‘Mum, are you still there?’

‘Y—yes honey. It takes a bit of getting used to, all this. So, how long have you and Andrew–’

‘–This is the first date. It’s not really a proper date. It’s a double one with Claire and John. We’ll have a burger and then go to the cinema next door. Jeff is taking us and picking us up afterwards.’

‘Do…do you have feelings for Andrew?’

I…I don’t know. I think I do, but I’ll know more after tonight.’

‘Well, be careful, honey.’

‘I will, Mum, promise. Have you heard from him at all?’

‘No and neither of us should. He has an exclusion order so if he doesn’t want to land back in jail, he would be wise to steer well clear of both of us.’

We spoke for about another ten minutes and then she had to go.

‘Well, Susan, have a great time tonight; I trust you to make the right decisions. I hope to come down and see you for your home game next Saturday. I‘m longing to see you because I sooo miss my baby.’

I didn’t pick her up on calling me her baby, but I knew what she meant. I was her baby and probably always would be.

‘’Bye, Mum,’ I said, my voice breaking up, ‘love you.’

‘Love you too, pet. I’ll speak to you in a few days.’

‘Okay.’

After putting down the ’phone, I wiped my eyes on a tissue and lay down again. I missed my mum so much…

I fell asleep thinking of her and the coming evening. I must have been tired because the next thing I knew was Claire, shaking me awake.

‘Come on, sleepyhead, we’ve only an hour and a half to like, get ready.’

‘I won’t need that long,’ I replied, yawning and sitting up.

‘Oh yes you will, now come along.’

I had a shower which helped me wake up properly. I made sure not to get my hair wet by using a shower cap. My nipples were a bit sensitive and I was careful to avoid splashing them with the hot water too much. After towelling myself dry, I put on my robe and returned to the bedroom. I had put the cosmetics we had bought this morning on the dressing table. I hoped they would look good on me as I was going by what Claire had told me would be okay.

Using one of Mark’s ponytail elastics to keep my hair away from my face, I began applying my makeup. The foundation was fine–just the right shade but thicker than what I normally used. It was a good thing, as I still looked rather pasty, and my eyes still had dark rings under them. The foundation successfully covered up those problems without difficulty. Next, I fixed the foundation with some powder on a big brush, tapping off the excess before applying it carefully on my face. After that I added some blusher to my cheek bones to give me some colour; it was a nice shade of pink and looked pretty natural.

Next came my eyes; first, eye liner, then eye shadow, two shades; a darker one for the lids and then a slightly lighter shade of blue up towards the brow, carefully blending them in. The black mascara was quite thick and it made my lashes look full and luscious. Finally my lips: I used a pink lip liner to define them and make them look slightly fuller, then a pink base coat followed by bright shiny pink lip gloss.

Backing away from the mirror, I was pleased with the overall effect. I was no expert, but I think it looked okay and made my face look pretty.

Glancing at my watch, I realised I had only twenty minutes. Amazed at how quickly the time had flown, I took off my robe and began dressing. First my bra; the cream-coloured satin cups held my budding breasts comfortably and securely. I used a gaff to hide my small boy bits, down below. I wanted a nice smooth look tonight and no unsightly bulges. Then the matching panties on top; I loved the way they slid up my hairless legs and settled nicely around my slightly rounded bottom.

Then I took the brand new sheer black tights out of the wrapper. They felt fabulous as I pulled them up my smooth legs. The thin sheer nylon hugged my legs and it felt wonderful!

I carefully put on my blouse over my head as I didn’t want any makeup smears. The silky softness against my skin made me shiver and I appreciated why we women loved silk so much.

After pulling up the skirt and zipping it at the back, I swished about a bit. The pleats gave it an interesting flare and it looked marvellous against my black encased legs and pale cream silk blouse. Sitting at the dressing table again, I released the ponytail and brushed out my hair. I loved the way it had been cut. I was able to make it look quite feminine with a centre parting and a few wispy strands at the sides, by just a few strokes of the brush. I was glad my hair was long enough to put into a low ponytail when in boy mode. I used some light hair spray to keep it all in place and then stood up and crossed to the bed. I had just a few minutes, so I put on my shoes quickly and stood up again. Looking at my reflection in the full length mirror on the wall, I smiled.

Susan was looking very pretty tonight. It was amazing how different I looked from when I was presenting as Mark. I had no worries that John would recognise me looking like this.

‘Susan, are you ready?’

‘Won’t be a minute, Claire.’

‘Don’t forget to put a clean pair of knickers in your bag,’ she advised. ‘You never know when you might need them, so I always carry a spare pair–just in case.’

‘Okay,’ I said, getting a clean pair from my undies’ drawer and putting them in my bag. Then I picked up my jacket, slung my bag over my shoulder and after a final inspection in the mirror, went to join Claire.

After mutual praise and admiration, we went downstairs. Josie and Jeff were there–Josie with a camera.

‘You both look stunning, girls. Now go and stand over there and I’ll take a few piccies.’

‘Mummeeee.’

‘Don’t Mummy me, young lady. This is your first date so I must record it for posterity and, Claire, when you spoke to your mum earlier, you promised her a picture, so no arguments from you, either.’

We went and stood against the wall rather self-consciously.

‘Try to look happier, you’re going out on a date, not to the dentists!’

We giggled at that and began trying all sorts of poses. That was until we got a cough from Jeff.

‘What?’ Josie asked.

‘They’ll be late if you don’t get a move on.’

‘It traditional to be late.’

‘I know that, you were often enough.’

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing, dear, now can we go please?’

Josie gave us both a quick kiss and a hug. I put on my cool jacket and we were off.

We were both a bit quiet on the way to Maccy D’s. I had been told that Claire had laid down the law with her brother and told him not to let on to John that I was Mark as well as Susan. But I wasn’t sure if it would work because I wasn’t aware that brothers ever did what their sisters told them.

When we arrived at the high street, there were loads of people around, mostly as young like us or slightly older. Andrew and John, waiting in the doorway of Maccy D’s, waved to us.

As we got out of the car, Jeff had to say, ‘Have nice time girls, no funny business, behave yourselves and be here at 11.00pm; okay?’

‘Yes Daddy.’ We both said and then giggled.

He shook his head, mumbled something under his breath and drove off with a wave.

As we approached the boys, I felt really nervous. Andrew was looking very smart in his jacket, shirt and trousers and John looked like he had made the effort too.

‘Do I look okay, is my skirt to short or long, is my hair all right and my makeup, is it too much or not enough?’

Claire rushed to John and they were soon locked in a kiss that left little to the imagination.

‘Hi,’ said Andrew a bit shyly.

‘Hello, you look nice.’

‘So do you–beautiful.’

I felt a shiver down my spine. No one had ever called me beautiful before.

‘Thank you.’

‘Do you want to go in?’

‘Yes, if Claire can put John down for a minute.’

We both smiled and after ungluing Claire and John we went in to the burger bar.

I had nuggets and chips and Andrew decided on the same. Claire had a Big Mac and fries and John a chicken sandwich thingy.

We were soon discussing which film we wanted to see. The boys were all for a sci-fi thing, but Claire and I managed–somehow–to persuade them to see a chick flick.

As soon as we had finished our meal we went next door to the cinema. The boys insisted on buying the tickets and as we were all a bit full up from the meal, we didn’t buy any popcorn.

We made our way into the auditorium and found seats at the back. There weren’t many people in there, this being an early evening showing, so we were able to choose which seats we wanted.

Obviously John sat next to Claire; I had her on one side and Andrew on the other.

The film started after the inevitable adverts and trailers. I was very aware of Andrew sitting so close to me. He smelt nice and I wondered what deodorant he used.

I sneaked a glance at Claire. She hadn’t wasted much time and she was heavily entangled with John and they didn’t appear to be paying any attention to the film. I looked at Andrew, he was watching the film, but didn’t look like he was taking in much, from what I could make out in the gloom of the darkened cinema.

His hand was on the arm rest, close to mine and, without thinking, I brushed against him. He looked at me and then slowly smiled. We didn’t have to say anything. This felt nice and so right. He lifted the arm rest and then held my hand. I sighed and leant against him. We stayed like this for a while, watching the film. I wasn’t really taking it in much and I don’t think he was either. After a minute, he let go of my hand; I looked up into his eyes and I noticed that he appeared to be scared.

‘What's up?’ I whispered.

He looked at me and smiled nervously.

‘C—can I put my arm around you?’

‘Course you can, silly. I’ve been waiting for ages.’

He put his arm around me and I snuggled in. I could hear his heart beat, it was going rather fast and I could also hear his breathing too. It was lovely to be up close like this. It was strange the feelings that I had. I never thought that I would like boys this way, thinking even after the operation that I would be more into girls. But Andrew changed all that. He accepted me for what I was, neither boy or girl yet. That made me feel safe and warm in his arms and I was loving every minute of it!

After a while he sighed. Looking up at his face just inches from mine, I could see a smile playing on his lips. Those nice pink juicy lips. I couldn’t help it I just moved my head up a bit and kissed him gently on those soft lips.

He looked at me and smiled. ‘Mmm, that was nice. Can I have some more.’

‘Say please, Oliver.’

‘Please.’

Our lips met, it was like a charge of electricity going through my body. His lips parted and so did mine. I felt his tongue reach out for mine and when they touched and then entwined, I shuddered and felt myself go damp in my panties.

Time stood still, I could not tell you how long we kissed like this and I just didn’t want it to end. But end it did when the lights came up and the film ended. I let go of him and smiled as I noticed he had lipstick on his face. I took a tissue out of my purse, wet it and then cleaned him up.

‘Thanks,’ he said rather breathlessly.

I just smiled and squeezed his hand.

I looked around and saw that Claire still had John in her grips. God, she was like an octopus!

‘’Claire, Claire, the film’s over we have to go.’

Claire came up for air and John looked like he needed oxygen.

‘Oh, has the film finished, like?’

‘Yes, we have to go.’

We all stood up and made our way to the foyer. I loved it when Andrew held my hand as we walked.

‘We have to go to the ladies,’ Claire said, pointedly.

‘Oh, right, see you in a minute,’ I said giving Andrew a peck on the cheek. He seemed reluctant to let me go for some reason.

We went in the ladies and luckily it was empty.

‘Well, you like, had a good time.’

‘How do you know, you were wrestling with John for nearly the whole film.’

‘Look at your face.’

I looked in the mirror and gasped. To say that my makeup was smeared, would be an understatement.

‘Come on, lets try and sort ourselves out.’

‘I need to use the loo first.’ I said.

I went in, shut the door, pulled down my tights, panties and with difficulty, my gaff. It was a bit messy down there. I had leaked quite a bit and the gaff was rather soggy. I carefully removed my tights and panties and then the gaff–I couldn’t wear it like that. I cleaned up the mess with loo paper as well as I could, before pulling on the clean panties, which–thanks to Claire–I had in my shoulder bag, and finally my tights.

I jammed the soiled panties and gaff in the plastic bag that had held my fresh panties and put them in my shoulder bag; then after straightening my skirt and replacing my shoes, I unlocked the door and saw Claire looking at me quizzically.

‘Okay?’

‘Yea’ no problems.’

I repaired the damage to my face quickly and as Claire had already finished, we rejoined the boys in the foyer. My heart fluttered when I saw Andrew’s face light up as we approached. I went to him and our lips briefly met.

We waited in the foyer for Jeff to arrive–it was too cold to wait outside. Before long, we saw his car drive up.

‘Hang on.’ I said to Andrew as I ran as fast as I could outside to the car. Jeff wound down the window.

‘Hi, Daddy.’

‘Hello, honey, have a nice time?’

‘Mmm, can you give us ten minutes?’

He looked at me quizzically.

‘Okay, I’m going for a coffee in McDonalds. You have fifteen minutes and no longer.’

‘Okay we’ll meet you in there; love you.’

‘You too, sugar.’

He got out and went next door. I returned to an enquiring look from everyone.

‘We’ve got fifteen minutes.’

‘That’s great,’ said John, ‘my dad’s picking up me and Andrew then.’

‘You still staying with John then?’ I asked Andrew.

‘Yes, ’til mum gets out of hospital.’

We went over to a quiet corner away from the crowds. There were a lot of people coming in for the late showings and I hoped we wouldn’t be chucked out.

Claire and John went over to the corner and I sat on a sofa with Andrew. We immediately held hands.

‘Are we wrong to be like this?’ asked Andrew.

‘It feels very right to me. Andrew?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you think me as a boy or a girl?’

‘Dressed like that and looking so beautiful, all girl.’

‘And if you saw me dressed as Mark?’

He was silent for a moment.

‘I…I suppose I would see you as a boy then, but it doesn’t matter.’

‘Why.’

He was quiet for a minute as if he was wrestling with something in his mind.

‘Let me ask you something. If we went out to the pictures and you saw me dressed as a girl, what would you think of me?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Answer me please. Does it matter to you if I was dressed as a boy or girl?’

I looked at him, not really knowing where this was going but I knew my answer in an instant.

‘It wouldn’t matter; I love you for being you and not for what you’re wearing.’

‘I feel the same about you. If you were dressed as Mark, I would still love you.’

‘And…and have you ever dressed as a girl?’

He looked at me and nodded slightly, a tear in the corner of his eye.

‘When I was younger, I did occasionally borrow Claire’s things. She never found out, but every time I did it I felt really guilty. I still don’t know why I did it.’

I held on to his hand, his face really close to mine. I kissed him gently on the lips.

‘Do you still want to do it?

‘Y…yes but I mustn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘’Cos it’s wrong.’

‘Is it wrong for me to be dressed like this?’ I said waving my hand over me.

‘No!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’re a girl.’

‘What are you then?’

‘A—a boy who likes wearing g—girls clothes.’

‘Don’t get upset, Andrew. There are lots of people like that. You’ve no reason to feel guilty. It’s what you are. Look we can’t talk like this now. Would you like to come over to my place soon and we can talk about it?’

‘You don’t think I’m sick then?’

‘No sicker than me!’

I looked at my watch. Our fifteen minutes was nearly up. We hugged and kissed some more, my nylon sheathed toes curling as our tongues danced together. It felt safe and good in his arms and it was sad when we had to pull away from each other and go and get the others.

Claire and John had just finished whatever it was that they had been doing and they both looked flushed. Luckily, on inspection, both Claire and I didn’t need another trip to the ladies as we were able to make repairs with tissues.

We said our final goodbyes and, very reluctantly, I hugged Andrew for the last time and went out into the cold. Jeff was waiting in the car and we got in the back. I waved to Andrew as we drove off. I was missing him already but had promised to text him when I got home.

I was pretty tired, and Claire was out in space somewhere, so not much was said on the way home, except Jeff had asked if we had a good time to which we both answered with an, ‘Mmm.’

It was a bit of a revelation that Andrew was a cross-dresser. It kind of brought us even closer together and made me feel warm inside. I had to get him to not feel guilty about it though.

It was drizzling as we drove up to the house; not a very nice night. Strangely, the security gates were open.

‘That’s odd.’ said Jeff.

We went up the long drive and then, as it curved to the left, we saw a police car, its blue lights flashing, just in front of the house.

‘What's going on?’ Jeff asked, as we got out of the car quickly and ran into the house.

I got there first and skidded to a halt in the hall. There was Josie, Mr Moon–the gardener and a lady whom I took to be his wife; but the people who drew most of my attention were the policeman and policewoman standing, with notebooks at the ready, looking at me.

‘Oh Susan,’ said Josie, rushing to me and flinging her arms around me for some reason. She had been crying.

‘What?’ I said.

‘It’s your mum.’

‘W—what about her? Is she ill, or something?’

Reading the faces around me, I just knew that something terrible had happened.

‘Oh, honey, come and sit down?’

She virtually dragged me into the sitting room and closed the door, leaving everyone outside. She made me sit down.

‘Please, Josie, what’s happened to Mum? Has she had an accident? What–’

‘Oh, Susan, honey. I can’t make it any easier for you. Your mum’s been murdered–your appalling step-father stabbed her and is still on the run.

I fell into her arms as my entire world seemed to crumble about me.

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To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape. and to the equally lovely Angharad for her expertise and support.

I was in Mark mode and it felt all wrong. Not as wrong as my mum being murdered, but still far from right...     Football Girl Chapter 16 By Susan Brown

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Previously...

‘It’s your mum.’

‘W—what about her? Is she ill, or something?’

Reading the faces around me, I just knew that something terrible had happened.

‘Oh, honey, come and sit down?’

She virtually dragged me into the sitting room and closed the door, leaving everyone outside. She made me sit down.

‘Please, Josie, what’s happened to Mum? Has she had an accident? What–’

‘Oh, Susan, honey. I can’t make it any easier for you. Your mum’s been murdered–your appalling step-father stabbed her and is still on the run.

I fell into her arms as my entire world seemed to crumble about me.

And now the story continues…

I stared out of the window but wasn’t seeing much.

The train to Scotland was taking me somewhere I did not want to go to and yet I ached to be nearer to my mum. Josie was sitting next to me, holding my hand. I was in Mark mode and it felt all wrong. Not as wrong as my mum being murdered, but still far from right.

Casting my mind back to the previous evening, it was as if I had walked into a nightmare as soon as I got home from my date.

The evening had been going so well and the time I had with Andrew and the things that we did together were some of the loveliest that I remember. Then, when I got home and heard the awful news about Mum, my world fell apart.

The police asked me several questions which I answered as well as I could. I do remember that they had to be convinced that the girl in front of them was actually Mark. To this day, I can’t remember what I said. In the end, Jeff and Josie asked them to leave and I went up to bed alone and cuddled my rabbit for comfort. I wanted to be alone, to cry and let myself go. My beastly step father scorned what he called “girlie behaviour” such as crying. He was so sadistic that he took pleasure in hitting me, then laughing and taunting me for crying.

Mum got most of the hidings and I knew that she cried more than I did. On more than one occasion I remember hearing her, sobbing her heart out in the middle of the night through the thin walls of our house, while her husband snored–comatose after yet another bout of heavy drinking.

I had been so pleased when mum left him and went to stay with my auntie.

I remembered the last conversation I had with mum and how happy she had sounded. It seemed like she was getting her life together at last and now this happened.

I woke up in the night screaming, my nightie drenched with sweat; Jeff and Josie were there, comforting me. The nightmare was so vivid. My step father was coming after me with a knife and I was wearing a long nightdress and my feet had become tangled up in the fabric. I had fallen and he was about to do something terrible–then I screamed.

After I had calmed down a bit, I took the pills that the doctor, who had been called the previous night, had prescribed. I hadn’t wanted to take any pills as I did not want to just put off the pain of losing my mum. I thought that being drugged up would just put off the time that I would have to grieve for her. I was wrong. I needed them to take the edge off my pain.

I found myself in bed with Josie. I think that Jeff was in mine, but I’m not sure. She hugged and consoled me until the pills took effect and I drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

The following day I found myself on a train. Jeff stayed behind to sort things out with the club and to look after the children. Claire, who had been really nice to me, said she would help Jeff–after all he was only a man. She was also going to tell Andrew what had happened.

My sweet Andrew had already texted me to say that he was thinking of me and would wait until I contacted him, but he wanted to talk to me as soon as I felt able.

Mr and Mrs Moon would help out at home and evidently arrangements had been put in place for them both to have their old jobs back. Mrs Moon as cook and general helper around the house and Mr Moon gardening, maintenance and other stuff. To be honest, I couldn’t think about things like that at first, but after three hours on the train not wanting to think too much about what happened to Mum, my mind strayed to other matters.

We had about an hour left on the train and I had dozed off when Josie’s ’phone rang.

‘Hello?’

‘Yes, I’m her foster-mother; what, oh hell–yes. Oh my God. Are you sure it’s him? Thanks, yes I’ll tell her–I mean him.’

‘What?’ I said, sitting up rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

She held my hand.

‘Mark; sorry love, I‘ve another shock for you.’

‘Have they got him?’

‘Well–look, there isn’t any easy way to say this. Oh, I’m glad we decided to travel first class and no one else is in here–’

‘–What are you saying, Mummy?’

‘Your step-father is–they found him in some woods quite near your auntie’s house. H—he had a hose going from the exhaust into the car. They couldn’t save him.’

‘H—he’s dead?’

‘Yes, honey.’

I broke down and cried. Why did I cry? It wasn’t out of any love for him. It was the shock of the loss of my mum and the feelings that I had no control over any of this. I felt terribly guilty that I hadn’t been able to protect her against that monster and I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life.

Auntie met us at the station and took us out into the country, to the pretty little village she called home.

Her small house was at the edge of the village and looked out to the hills and mountains. Had this been a happier time, I would have appreciated it so much more.

My auntie looked exhausted. She was older than mum and was her only sibling. I could see that she was taking it as hard as I was. However she was made of stern stuff, my auntie, and she did her best to tell me what had happened as far as she knew.

We all sat in her little parlour and the fire was burning gently in the grate, giving us some warmth from the Scottish chills outside.

‘I had just got back from shopping; I had needed some bread so I’d gone to the bakery. Your mum wasn’t here but that did not worry me as I knew she liked to go for walks. After about an hour, I got worried and went outside to look for her–’ She broke down and couldn’t continue for a while.

‘I—I was walking down the path that leads to the woods and there I found her, lying on her side, still alive. I ran up and knelt beside her. She looked terribly pale and she had a lot of blood on her chest. I rang for an ambulance and tried to stem the b—bleeding. She opened her eyes just once and whispered to me. I could barely hear her so I put my ear close to her mouth. She whispered that it was her husband that stabbed her. She then–then said to t—tell you that she loves you and that you must follow your dream and be happy. Th—then sh—she slipped away.’

We all cried some more. I wished that I had been there for her but I wasn’t. She was at peace now and I hoped that she would look down on me and love me as much as I love her.

I stayed in Scotland for the funeral which was held the following week. It’s a time that I don’t want to dwell on too much; it was so painful.

Josie kept in contact with Jeff constantly. He had sorted things out with Melchester and I was on compassionate leave. Things were not quite as bad there, injury-wise because several players were now fit again and the club had also signed three new squad members. Obviously, I tried to keep up to date with how the matches went while I was away; two league and one champions league games; all won, I’m glad to say. We were creeping back up the table, which was good. The fact that they were doing so well without me was great as it took the pressure off me in my current circumstances.

I tried to keep fit as it helped my mind and body to cope with things. Every day I went out for runs and I felt better for it. I had to wear some strapping on my chest as my breasts got sore and tended to be rather noticeable if unrestrained.

I chatted with Claire several times; she was staying at our place for the time being. Her mother was still not quite right and was in a nearby nursing home, where Claire and Andrew could visit fairly regularly.

I also spoke to Andrew every day and he helped me to cheer up and made me feel somewhat better. Even though we weren’t together, I felt that we were growing closer and closer. I longed to be in his arms and my feelings towards him were among the things that kept me going.

Auntie Chris was very supportive of my wanting to be Susan. She had evidently had long conversations with mum about it and could see that I was happier as Susan rather than Mark.

Eventually, it was time for mum’s funeral. The service though was lovely and the minister said some fine words. I was surprised at the number of people in the congregation considering that mum wasn’t known to many of the locals and we had no relatives apart from Auntie Chris. I got really upset when I saw Mums coffin covered in flowers and I cried through most of the service.

She was buried in a corner of the kirkyard that looked out towards the mountains that she loved so much, even after such a short time. I was sure she would find peace there, a peace that she never managed to have while she was alive.

Leaving the kirk, I discovered why so many people were there: at least half of them were reporters trying to get a story about me. Josie had realised that this was the case and without telling me, she had hired a taxi to take us away quickly.

I didn’t answer any questions and apart from the flashes of the cameras nearly blinding me, we managed to get away without too many problems.

As we drove back to Auntie’s house, I cried again. I had thought that all of my tears would now go away, but the sight of those reporters who wanted to intrude on our grief made me wonder if all this fame was worth it.

Shortly after we arrived back at Auntie’s house, our bags were packed and we were ready to go. Auntie was going to stay for a few days and then visit some friends for a while. I had asked if she wanted to come with us but she said she was happier here in spite of all that had happened. I told her that I would visit her and Mum’s grave often and I would stay with her whenever I could.

‘Look, Mark. I know your mum was so proud of you. She loved you more than anyone else. She always watched the games you were in and was so happy when you played well, which was most of the time. She had accepted you as Susan too, and she always felt that she had a daughter as well as a son. I’m sure that she’s looking down at you right now and will want you to try and get all over this and start the rest of your life. Now you’d better go before we both start crying again. Don’t forget to send me some tickets for your games. I want to come and see you play as much as possible!’

After a final hug, Josie and I got into the taxi that was to take us to the station and back to what I laughingly call reality. If you are interested, my step father was cremated in Scotland, I didn’t ask for details as I did not attend and never wanted to think about him again.

When we arrived home from Scotland, life got back on track almost immediately. I still broke down and cried uncontrollably, but as time went on, my pain dulled a bit and I was able to do things again.

It was Sunday now and was going into training with the club on Monday. At home, I changed into my girl’s clothes as soon as I could. I felt so much more comfortable en femme. Having to be Mark for so long was not what I had wanted and had been more than a bit of a strain in my fragile state.

Claire and I had an agreement that we wouldn’t talk about my mum and step-father, as it still upset me too much. I felt sure that I would eventually get over it and talk more about my feelings, but at the moment all I wanted was to be as normal as a person could be in the circumstances.

Andrew came to see me soon after I got home. It was nice walking around the gardens hand in hand with him.

‘How is your mum?’ I asked.

‘Getting better. They reckon another two weeks and then she can go home.’

‘Will she be okay at home?’

‘Yeah; Claire wants to play nurses and I’ll try to help too.’

‘I can’t see Claire being a nurse.’ I joked.

‘You’re probably right, but we’ll find out soon.’

‘If it all gets a bit much, you can all stay here. We have tons of rooms spare.’

‘That would be nice. We could get up to all sorts of rude things!’

‘Andrew! Go and wash your mouth out; I’m not that sort of girl. Anyway, we’re only fifteen.’

‘Nearly sixteen.’

‘Never mind that; you have to be satisfied with what we do now.’

‘Yes, Miss.’

I poked my tongue out at him and then ran off laughing. He chased after me, and as I wasn’t running very fast, he managed to catch up with me without much trouble.

The next morning Jeff took me to the training ground. ‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I need to get back to doing normal things. Anyway, it stops me thinking about it.’

‘Okay, if you’re sure. I have to go and do a few bits and pieces, so give me a ring when you need picking up.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ I waved him off and went into the training ground.

The lads were good with their greetings; nothing over the top. I think they realised that I didn’t really want to talk about it.

We were soon running up and down, jinking through bollards, doing exercises in the gym and generally making me feel completely knackered. There was no training match today–it was all about fitness and stamina. I think the fact that my iron tablets had been increased, together with running up hills in Scotland had both helped me with my stamina and I think that I did quite well, considering.

As we returned to the changing room, I felt a touch on my arm.

‘Can I have a wee word, laddie?’ It was the boss, Mr McPherson.

He took me by the arm and we went into his office.

‘Sit down, Mark.’ he offered as he sat down behind his desk.

‘Sorry to hear about yer Ma It’s hard to lose a parent and even harder when she went under such tragic circumstances. How d’ye feel?’

‘It hurts a lot, but I have to get on with life.’

‘That’s right, son, but ye have tae grieve, and get the worst o’ it oot of yer system. I’m glad tae see ye back, but if things get tough, I’m sure we can give ye a bit more time.’

‘Thanks, Mr McPherson, but I want to get back to work. It sort of helps me cope, do you know what I mean?’

‘Aye, I do. Look I’m here if ye need me, so just come and have a wee natter if you need one. I’m not always an ogre ye know.’

We both laughed and then he let me go.

It was nice that so many people cared. It put a lie to the fact that football clubs are just big businesses. A club like this has a heart which is why I love playing for them.

Jeff collected me at the gates and as soon as we were on the way back home he asked, ‘How did you do?’

‘Not as badly as I thought I would. The running I did up in Scotland helped a lot with my stamina.’

‘That’s good. I’ve had a word with your agent, John Prentiss: he says that he’s got some sponsorship lined up for you if you’re interested. It means big money and will help ensure that when you stop playing for whatever reason, you will have a nest egg that may make things easier for you.’

‘What sort of sponsorship?’ I asked.

‘Flame, the isotonic drink, Premier Footware and–don’t laugh–Stratum, body products for men.’ He said it in a deep manly voice and we both laughed.

‘No perfume ones or dress designers then?’

‘Wait till you come out of the closet for those.’

My smile faded as I had a disturbing thought. ‘Should I do this? It feels as if I am cheating a bit,’ I said.

‘I know how you must feel, but let’s face it, the world sees you as an up-and-coming male football star. At the moment as far as the club and everyone else is concerned you are a boy. Let the future look after itself. You might want to make sure that your contract with these people is renewable every year, so if you do become a girl–’

‘–When I become a girl,’ I interrupted.

‘Okay, when you decide to let the world know that you’re a girl, at least you can time it so it’s at the end of the contract or something.’

‘Yes, I don’t want to lie to anyone. But, Daddy, it’s so hard. I feel as if I am lying; lying to myself as well as everyone else. Look at me, I’m dressed as Mark and I feel like I’m in fancy dress. I have my breasts pressed against my chest and I feel like a girl. My hips are getting bigger and my shape is changing. Soon, I won’t be able to hide it any more.’

Jeff stopped the car in a lay-by and gave me a cuddle as once again, I began to cry my eyes out. I was crying so much more than I used to.

‘Are you sure your hips are getting bigger?’ He asked.

‘I—I think so,’ I sniffed.

‘We’ll have to talk to Josie about that and maybe the doctor. I wish you hadn’t taken those damned pills.’

‘I know. I thought I was doing the right thing but now I’m not so sure.’

I stayed in his arms for a little longer. It was a nice feeling. I felt safe and loved and that’s what I needed right now.

After a bit we continued our journey home and arrived about twenty minutes later.

I went straight to my room to get changed into something more me–a pink glittery t-shirt and short white skirt. Oh and a proper bra that didn’t squash my delicate bits.

Having a good cry definitely helps and when my ’phone jingled and I saw it was Andrew, I smiled as I said, ‘Hello.’

‘Hi, how are things?’

‘Okay, I guess.’

‘How did training go?’

‘Okay, my stamina’s getting better.’

‘How were the other players with you?’

‘They were great and the manager called me into his office and said some really nice things. How’s your mum?’

‘She’s all right, a bit weak but getting better–I miss you.’

‘I miss you too, can you come over tomorrow?’

‘Yeah, that’d be great. I’m no good until I get my medication.’

‘What medication is that Andrew?’

‘A good tongue numbing kiss from my girlfriend.’

‘And which girlfriend would that be?’

‘You–you numpty.’

‘Well, I suppose I can free a small slot in my busy schedule tomorrow to give you your medicine. Mind you, I’m a bit worried.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Well, I might give you an overdose!’

We both laughed at that.

‘Anyway, I’ve got a nice skirt and top that might suit you,’ I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

‘Have you?’ he whispered.

‘Mmm, would you like to try them on?’

‘You know I would but I don’t want anyone to know.’

‘That’s all right, there are plenty of rooms here and I’m sure that I can find one with a lock and key where we can experiment.’

‘Are–are you sure?’

‘Yes, love. Look before all the horrible stuff happened, we said that we would talk about this. When you come over, we can go off somewhere quite and have a long talk about it.’

‘That would be great.’

I heard a shout from downstairs, it was Jeff.

‘Look, the ’rents are screaming for me; can you come over tomorrow at about ten?’

‘Okay.’

‘Right see you then..–love you, Andrew,’

‘Love you too.’

I put the ’phone down feeling a bit squidgy, but a nice squidgy.

Sighing, I got up and went downstairs to the sitting room.

Josie and Jeff were there but no sign of Claire or the twins. ‘Before you ask; Mrs. Moon is playing Nanny McPhee with the twins.’

‘And where’s Claire?’ I asked, wondering why the place was so quiet.

‘Gone to see her mum; she went by taxi and Jeff will pick her up later.’

‘Can I go?’ I asked Jeff.

‘’Course you can, love.’

‘Susan,’ said Josie, looking a bit serious, ‘can we have a chat?’

‘’Mmm,’ I said sitting in an armchair, tucking my legs under me and smoothing my skirt.

‘What have I done now?’ I asked in a resigned voice.

They looked at each other and laughed.

‘What?’

‘Oh, Susan, you are so girlie sometimes,’ laughed Josie.

‘So I should hope.’

‘Look, girl, can you be serious for a minute.’

‘Sorry, Daddy.’

‘Right, Josie, do you want to–’

Josie looked at me and smiled. ‘Do you remember when you moved into the flat over the café that I told you that we always thought that we were sort of your second parents?’

‘Yes.’ I replied. I wondered if they were going to say that they had changed their minds or something. I no longer felt very happy. Would they leave me? Maybe I was too much trouble–

‘Don’t look like that, Susan, it’s nothing nasty. Jeff and I spoke a lot on the ’phone while you and I were up in Scotland. We’ve spoken again since. I know that you’re nearly sixteen now and probably feel that you are nearly an adult. Let’s face it, all you have been through would’ve broken someone twice your age, but you’ve done really well and we’re proud of you. But I’m straying from the subject: as I say, we’ve spoken about you and how think we can help you–and us too really–as we’ve always loved you, haven’t we, Jeff?’

I couldn’t understand what she was saying and she was crying now. Jeff went to her and gave her a hug, then looking at me with wet eyes, he said. ‘What Josie is trying to say is that although you’re getting to be a big girl now, we’d like to adopt you if we can and if you would like us to.’

I looked at them, my mouth open; I hadn’t expected this! I didn’t need to think about it. I knew they loved me–they’d shown it in so many ways. They had been there for me through the roughest times of my life. They accepted me for what and who I was.

I could hear mum talking to me as if she was standing there right next to me, saying, ‘yes, honey.’

I loved my mum more than anything in the world, but next to her, I loved Josie and Jeff too; so no, I didn’t need time to think too much, I just ran to them and hugged them as hard as I could.

‘Yes, please!’

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To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

For the first time in what seemed to be forever, I was really happy. We spent ages discussing what we had to do about adoption. I could see that Mummy and Daddy were very happy at my decision and I was so excited about it all.     Football Girl Chapter 17 By Susan Brown

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Previously...

Jeff and I spoke a lot on the ’phone while you and I were up in Scotland. We’ve spoken again since. I know that you’re nearly sixteen now and probably feel that you are nearly an adult. Let’s face it, all you have been through would’ve broken someone twice your age, but you’ve done really well and we’re proud of you. But I’m straying from the subject: as I say, we’ve spoken about you and how think we can help you–and us too really–as we’ve always loved you, haven’t we, Jeff?’

I couldn’t understand what she was saying and she was crying now. Jeff went to her and gave her a hug, then looking at me with wet eyes, he said. ‘What Josie is trying to say is that although you’re getting to be a big girl now, we’d like to adopt you if we can and if you would like us to.’

I looked at them, my mouth open; I hadn’t expected this! I didn’t need to think about it. I knew they loved me–they’d shown it in so many ways. They had been there for me through the roughest times of my life. They accepted me for what and who I was.

I could hear mum talking to me as if she was standing there right next to me, saying, ‘yes, honey.’

I loved my mum more than anything in the world, but next to her, I loved Josie and Jeff too; so no, I didn’t need time to think too much, I just ran to them and hugged them as hard as I could.

‘Yes, please!’

And now the story continues…

For the first time in what seemed to be forever, I was really happy. We spent ages discussing what we had to do about adoption. I could see that Mummy and Daddy were very happy at my decision and I was so excited about it all.

‘Does that mean the twins will be my sisters?’

‘Yes, honey,’ replied Mummy, smiling, ‘although officially they will be your step sisters.’

‘I’ve always wanted a sister and now I have a pair!’ We all laughed at that.

Presently, Daddy and I had to go and fetch Claire. After giving me a big hug, Mummy went off to see if Mrs. Moon was coping with the twins–being high maintenance, she was worried if she was pulling her hair out yet–and Daddy and I went off to pick Claire up from the nursing home.

She was waiting at the entrance when we arrived, next to her was Andrew!

After giving Claire a hug and looking at Andrew for a moment, I turned to Daddy.

‘Daddy, may I speak with Andrew for a minute?’

‘Fifteen minutes, no more. Claire can I see your mum for a moment?’

‘Sure, I’ll take you. Andrew, be nice to Susan and Susan, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

I couldn’t think of anything witty to say so I just poked my tongue out. We all laughed and Andrew and I went for a walk in the gardens, holding hands as we walked: it was lovely.

‘How’s your mum?’ I asked as we sat on a seat by the small lake.

‘It’s taking longer than we thought. She’s still very weak and the doctors say that she might be here a lot longer than they originally thought.’

‘She will be okay, though?’

‘Yes, it’s just that they never know with her illness how each individual will recover, some are quick and others are slow. They have found out that apart from everything else, she has a problem with her thyroid. They are going to have tests done and decide what to do then.’

‘But she’s not in danger?’

‘The doctor said “no”. Thyroid problems are very common and mostly treatable. We’ll know more about it next week when she’s had the tests and the results come back.’

We sat there for a while, it was nice and peaceful. There were swans and ducks on the water and, on the far side, a lady in a wheelchair being pushed by a nurse, was throwing bread or something to them, making the birds push and shove to get the biggest tit-bits.

The weather was quite pleasant, considering that it was winter. There was some warmth in the sun and the sky was free from clouds. I looked at Andrew, sitting next to me, and smiled.

‘What?’

‘I haven’t had a kiss yet.’

‘You’re right! We’ll have to do something about that!’

He turned to me and immediately we were in a loving embrace. Our lips met and parted. We explored each others mouths gently with our tongues and I was loving every second of it. After a while, we came up for breath. My panties felt a bit damp but strangely, I hadn’t had any sort of erection; not that I had ever had many of those anyway, even prior to taking those horrible pills. In fact my groin area ached a bit so I wondered if that was because I had leaked. The pain went away after a minute and I forgot about it for the moment.

‘You won’t forget to come over tomorrow morning, will you?’

‘As if I could forget that.’

‘Have you got any girls clothes at home?’

‘A few bits and pieces but not much; they’re mostly Clair’s cast offs.’

‘What about underthings?’

‘I’ve got some panties, that I bought off the net–and a bra.’

I looked down and smiled.

‘Are you wearing panties now?’

He nodded, going a very sweet shade of puce.

‘What colour?’

‘Pink,’ he said, blushing even more.

‘Nice–anyway we had better go back now. Oh, I haven’t told you my great news,’

‘What?’

‘Jeff and Josie are adopting me!’

‘That’s wonderful, honey!’

We had another major clinging moment and then we had to go.

Hand in hand, we walked back to the car just as Jeff and Claire arrived.

‘Right you two, I’ll give you a lift back to your friends house, Andrew. I’ve spoken to your mum and she says that if you want you can come and stay with us.’

‘Wow, Jeff, that would be great,’ Andrew exclaimed enthusiastically. ‘It’s a bit cramped at John’s house and I’ve been sleeping on the sofa.’

‘We can pick up your things if you like and then you can come home with us.’

Andrew and I looked at each other and smiled while Claire commenced making rather realistic sick noises in her throat.

We picked up Andrews things and after that he said goodbye and thanked John’s parents for having him.

We had to prise Claire and John apart before we could leave, and I started making sick noises at the two love birds, just as Claire had done to us — for some reason, Claire didn’t see the joke. Eventually after a minor bit of hassle, we finally left for home.

We made a detour to Andrews and Claire’s house to pick up some more clothes. Andrew looked at me significantly and nodded as he got back into the car next to me carrying a holdall. I smiled, knowing that he had been able to bring his girlie stuff with him.

As we drove home–my hand holding on tight to Andrew’s–I thought that it was great that he was going to live with us for a while. I know it was only until his mum was better, but I would cherish the time he was with us.

Claire, who was sitting in the front with Daddy, said, ‘I’ve asked John if he wants to go to the cinema tonight. I wanted a double date but he wants me all to himself.’

Andrew and I both looked at each other and said ‘Ahhh, sweet!’ then giggled.

‘Andrew, you’re beginning to sound just like a girl. It must be Susan’s influence. So what I’m trying to say, without rude interruptions, is that I won’t be around tonight.’

‘I’m giving them a lift and picking them up afterwards,’ Daddy added in an aggrieved voice, although it didn’t sound very convincing. Then he mumbled something about being a glorified taxi service, which, of course, we all ignored.

When we got home, Mummy was there with the twins. I could smell something yummy coming from the kitchen and wondered what that fabulosa smell was.

‘Mummy, that smell?

‘Mrs. Moon’s making a steak and kidney pudding and I can hardly wait to get my teeth into it. My mouth’s been watering for ages. Hello, Andrew, how’s your mum?’

‘She’s been better.’

‘Never mind, they’ll sort her out soon. Claire, Susan, can you watch the twins while I show Andrew his room?’

‘Course, like no probs,’ Claire replied.

‘Does that mean yes?’

She nodded, with a puzzled look on her face–as if everybody should understand Claire-speak.

Andrew followed Mummy upstairs, leaving us with the terrible two, flapping about in the large lobsterpot playpen in the middle of the sitting room floor. For once, they were quiet and Claire and I could have a reasonable conversation without shouting.

‘You don’t mind Andrew staying with us?’ I asked.

‘Nah, he’s like, my bruv, i'nie?’

‘Will you tone down the incomprehensible language. I know it’s put on because my Andrew doesn’t speak like that!’

She stared and gave me a cheeky grin.

‘So, it’s my Andrew now is it?’

‘Wanna make something of it?’

She looked like she was going to say something witty and then shook her head.

‘No, it’s nice that he, like loves you and you love him. You need all the love you can get nowadays.’

Talk about a Kleenex moment? We had a hug and a cry after that. I’m sure she was worried about her mum and that was doing things to her emotions too. After we calmed down a bit she turned to me and smiled.

‘So, Jeff and Josie are taking you on full time?’

‘You make it sound like it’s some sort of job. They’re going to adopt me, if that’s what you mean.’

‘Yeah, it’s like, great. They obviously love you to bits.’

‘Mmm, I love them to bits, too, always have really. It’s nice to be in a proper family: with mum and you-know-who, it didn’t seem like a family at all. Oh, I’ll always miss Mum, but I know that she’s happy for me and looking down and approving.’

Yet more tissues were used and when Mummy came back down and saw us; I ran to her for a great big hug.

‘What’s all this about, you are acting like your favourite puppy’s gone missing.’

‘I haven’t got a p—puppy. No we were talking about–things.’

‘Oh, things, right, okay. Look, are you going to put me down. I can smell something nasty coming from that playpen and unless you want to change them…’

‘I will if you want.’ I said as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Claire sneaking out of the room. She wasn’t into changing nappies.

Mummy stepped away slightly and looked me up and down.

‘What; is my skirt too short?’

‘It’s not that. At your age I was a bit of a rebel, I was wondering when you were going to become a stroppy teenager?’

‘I don’t ever want to be that, Mummy. Remember, I’ve only been able to be a girl for a short time. I’ve missed out on being a little girl so there’s no way I want to stop being the best girl I can be now. Is that stupid, should I be like that?’

She gave me a hug.

‘Just be you, Susan, that’s all I ask. That thing about teenagers all being rebels is a bit of a myth. Not all teenagers are rebels. Some are, but lots aren’t. So, as I say be you and I’ll be happy. Look, you sort one twin and I’ll do the other…’

After tea, Claire departed upstairs to get changed. After loading the dishes into the washer, Andrew and I went outside while Jeff and Josie got the twins ready for bed.

We just walked around the outside of the house on the gravel path. Andrew thought that the house and grounds were great and I had to agree with him.

‘…and the steak and kidney pudding, it was the best I have ever tasted.’

‘Mmm, wonderful, wasn’t it. How do you like your room, Andrew?’

‘It’s nice, much bigger than mine at home and of course it’s near yours?’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Erm, I asked Josie. For some strange reason she said that I must behave myself.’

‘Well I don’t know what she thinks we’ll do…well I do, but we won’t be silly.’

‘No, pity that, but still, plenty of time for that.’

‘What?’

‘You know...it.’

I stopped him on the path.

‘Andrew, I don’t want to have sex until I’m married, I know it sounds a bit prudish and that but there it is.’

‘I wouldn’t, I mean I couldn’t…look Susan, I suppose it’s right we should talk like this now, but I agree with you. Too many of the kids at school come from broken homes or don’t even know who their dad is. That was usually caused by their parents not taking precautions or having sex too young and regretting it…I don’t want that and I don’t want to hurt you. I love you too much for that.’

‘You know I can’t have children after the surgery?’

‘Of course; the only way you can have children is by adoption but I still wouldn’t want to have sex with you until and if we get married…’

‘We are too young to even think of that…’

‘I know, but we are thinking about sex and if you can think of that, the next step is marriage, if you love someone. In this country you can marry at sixteen with permission so it’s right we should talk about it. I do not want to marry at sixteen though, do you?’

I shook my head.

‘No, I love you too much to make a mistake like that. We haven’t felt like this with each other for long, but we have to be grown up about it and see what happens. Perhaps after a couple of years, if we feel the same way, then we can have white wedding.’

‘Only if I get to wear the dress!’ said Andrew laughing as I chased him around the corner.

Claire went off on her date with Jeff saying that he was going to get a quote from a sign writer to have taxi put on the side of the car and perhaps one of those illuminated signs on the roof…

Mummy, who had been on the ’phone, put it down and then looked at me and Andrew.

‘Can you both do me a favour?’

‘What, Mummy?’

‘Can you babysit while I visit your mum, Andrew? She wants to see me and I promised the other day that I would take some magazines and stuff for her.’

‘Okay, Mummy.’

‘Give her my love and tell her that I’ll visit tomorrow,’ Andrew added.

‘Okay, love. Now you know where everything is; if you have any problems give me a ring on my mobile. Mrs. Moon’s at home if you have any dire emergency, but the girls are asleep and the little darlings are normally good at night. Jeff is meeting me at the nursing home after dropping the girls off, then we are going to go to that new bar down by the lock for a drink. We shouldn’t be home later than eleven.’

‘Don’t worry, Mummy, I have done this before, you know.’

‘I know, sweetheart. Okay, I’ll just get my stuff and I’ll be gone.’

A few minutes later after giving us a hug she got into her car and started the engine.

We waved her off and then went back inside.

‘I’ll just check up on the girls,’ I said and went upstairs. ‘Want a coke from the fridge?’

‘Yes, you?’

‘Please. Bring them up to your room.’

‘All right.’

Upstairs, I checked that the twins were fast asleep. I still couldn’t tell one from the other, but lying there fast asleep, I could see that they were so pretty, they would break some hearts when they get older, unless they get someone like Andrew, of course.

I hoped that one day I would have children. Regretting that I would not be able to give birth, I was happy in the knowledge that there are children in this world who had no parents and I could hopefully adopt just like Mummy and Daddy were going to do with me.

I knocked on Andrew’s door.

‘Come in,’ he said.

When I went in, I saw that he was sorting out his girls’ stuff .

‘Ooh, let’s see what you’ve got.’ I said enthusiastically.

Looking at the clothes, I could see that it wasn’t a great choice. They were all oldish and used. Claire was slightly smaller than Andrew and I could see that he would struggle to look nice in them.

‘Hmm.’

‘Not much is it.’

‘No, we’ll have to remedy that–and soon. Look, I’ve loads of stuff now, we’re much the same size, except I have the hips and bum of a hippo now.’

‘You don’t.’

‘I do. That reminds me, I must speak to Mummy about that and a couple of aches and pains I’ve been having. Anyway, stay here a mo and I’ll go and get some things for you. Do you want to pop out of your boys things and put on your bra? I take it you’re already wearing panties?’

‘Yes…if you are sure I should…’

‘Yes, I am sure. I want to see how pretty you are, so no arguing! Now, I’ll only be a minute, don’t miss me.’ I gave him a peck on the cheek and went out.

Going through my wardrobe, I picked out a few things that I thought would like nice and then I went back into Andrew’s bedroom. He was sitting on the bed in just panties and bra and looked ever so sweet.

‘Good, you’re ready. That bra looks nice, pink like your panties. Right honeybunch, anything here you want to try on?’

I put the things on the bed.

‘Look I can’t call you Andrew dressed like that. Do you have a girl’s name?’

‘Mum and Dad were going to call me A—Andrea, if I was born a girl.’

‘Andrea, that’s a nice name. Right, Andrea, what would you like to try on first?’

She looked like someone in a sweetie shop who couldn’t decide what to have.

‘Can I try this top and skirt on?’

‘Nice choice.’

It was a light blue cotton blouse with three quarter length sleeves and was a sort of peasant style, flaring out slightly from beneath the bust line. The skirt was knee length, cotton again and was a slightly darker colour, it had a generous cut and would hide any unsightly bulges. I had a fresh pack of natural colour tights so I left them on the bed for her use.

‘I’ll be back in a minute, I said as I went to check on the girls. I could see that she was a bit shy. Considering that she had been in the closet so long, I wasn’t very surprised at that, so a few minutes alone would be nice for her.

The twins were asleep and looked peaceful. I went downstairs and took a couple of cokes out of the fridge when the phone went.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Susan.’

‘Hello, Daddy, what’s up?’

‘Well, I just had a phone call from the club’s publicity director, Jason Robertson. He’s had a phone call from the police. Evidently, a number of reporters have been sniffing around and trying to get more background information about your mum’s death. It seems that there had been a tip off that a couple of police constables interviewed you and you were dressed as a girl. I just said the first thing that came to mind and told him that you had just got back from a fancy dress party. He seemed to accept that and will fend off any questions if, or really when the press contacts us about it.’

I went cold at the words. Had I been found out already and how long will my secret stay a secret?

‘So, if you get any questions form the press, just laugh it off and hopefully it might go away of its own accord.’

‘Okay, Daddy, thanks for telling me. I wonder how the press found out about this?’

‘Evidently, there is going to be an enquiry; in house and private so it doesn’t get out, but I think someone in the police force is going to suffer over this as you are still a minor. Look don’t worry, we’ll see you later. Are the twins okay?’

‘Yes, Daddy, fast asleep.’

‘All right, sweetheart, we’ll see you later.’

‘Bye Daddy, love you.’

‘You too, honey, bye.’

I put the phone down and stood there wondering whether things were going wrong again. Then, I just sighed and decided to try to forget about it tonight because I had other things on my mind…like Andrea. I went back upstairs with the drinks and after knocking on the door, went into her bedroom.

‘Okay, how do I look?’

I did a double take; was this lovely blond, my Andrea?

‘L…lovely, how long have you had the wig?’

She was smiling and it lit up her face.

‘It’s Claire’s. She once had her hair cut too short and bought it to cover up it up. She threw the wig out when she had no more use for it and I sort of “found” it.’

She was so pretty looking like that. The blond shoulder length wig and the clothes really suited her. Her legs looked wonderful, encased in the thin nylon sheath and I could see that she was totally in love with the feel of her clothes.

A bit of makeup and a stiff brush on her hair and she would look positively lovely. Breast forms would help fill out the bra cups and then after all that, I could see that we could go out on girlie shopping expeditions without worrying too much about being clocked. Her voice was a bit of a problem, but we could practice making it softer and slightly higher and…

‘Why are you staring at me–I look silly don’t I?’ She started to tear up a bit.

I went straight over and hugged her. She was still unsure of herself and lacked any confidence, poor love.

‘Honey, you look lovely, I promise. We just need to sort out some makeup, all us girls need that and maybe a pair of breast-forms; bunched up socks just don’t give the right sort of vibe. Look, come into my room and we’ll use some of my unopened makeup, I have loads after that shopping trip with Mummy. I’m sure I can find some to suit your complexion.’

I took her by the hand and we went into my bedroom.

‘Sit at my dressing table and face me–and don’t look in the mirror. Let’s take off your wig for now, it’ll be easier for me to do your face first and style your hair afterwards, okay? Now, if I put this nylon cape thingy that Mummy gave me around you, we can make sure that you don’t get any makeup on your clothes.’

She gave me a weak smile, I could tell that she was terribly nervous, so I kissed her gently on the lips and set to work.

At first I found it quite difficult working on somebody else’s face, but after a few faltering attempts, I got into my stride. She had no need to shave properly yet as she only had sparse growth, but what few hairs she did have, she had shaved off. I kept wanting to kiss her moist, warm lips… but I had to concentrate.

I stepped back when I finished and looked at her critically. ‘Take that frown off your face, girl, you look lovely.’

‘Can I look?’

‘Not yet. I haven’t got your lips quite right. It isn’t easy doing someone else’s makeup.’ Her lips looked a bit on the thin side, so I used some lip liner carefully on the outer edges and then filled them with a nice pink gloss. This made them look fuller and very kissable.

As soon I had finished her face, I removed the cape and carefully replaced the wig on her head. The long blond tresses, which cascaded down to her shoulders suited her face and shaped it very effectively, but I did need to tease the tangles out a bit and then brush her hair for quite a while before I was satisfied.

I looked her up and down and then frowned.

‘What?’ she said in alarm, ‘do I look silly?’

‘Not silly, beautiful, of course. I’ll let you have a look at yourself in a moment, but we need shoes. Have you got any?’

‘No, Claire’s feet are much smaller than mine.’

‘What size do you take?

‘Seven.’

‘Goody! The same size as me; hang on.’ I went to the wardrobe and pulled out some black shoes with a low heel. The last thing I wanted was for her to break an ankle.

‘Try these’, I said, putting the shoes on her feet. ‘When we’ve more time, we’ll do your nails, hands and toes but for now, I think we’ve finished. Right take my hand and stand up.’

She did as I asked.

‘Close your eyes, no peeking, mind!’

She closed her eyes and I led her to the full length mirror. Her hand was shaking slightly and felt slightly moist. I realised that she must be very nervous.

‘Right, honeybunch, open your eyes.’

I stepped back and watched her reaction. She sort of started at her reflection, then looked up and down. She touched her face and then her hair…it was only then that she smiled a sweet smile.

‘I…I look nice,’ she said, hesitantly.

‘You look so pretty, I could eat you.’ I replied, smiling.

She turned to me and we looked into each others eyes. Soon, we couldn’t resist any longer and were in each others arms, kissing passionately and I felt that now familiar wetness in my panties, together with the ache in my groin that I seemed to be getting more and more…I ignored it as much as I could as I was rather busy for a few minutes. I could feel, her hardness, through the thin fabric as our bodies pressed up against each other in a loving embrace.

After we let each other go, I had to help her repair the damage to her makeup and then sort myself out before hand in hand we checked up on the twins. They were still fast asleep and hadn’t even moved since the last time we checked.

‘Look, Andrea, I’ll see you downstairs, I have to go to the loo.’

‘Okay, sweetheart, don’t be long.’

We briefly kissed and then she went downstairs and I went into my bedroom. Going over to my chest of drawers, I picked a pair of white satin panties and then went into the bathroom.

I pulled down my old panties and sat on the toilet. After taking them off, I found that they were quite damp and sticky, but that wasn’t what concerned me, because I also found what appeared to be blood mingled with the other stuff. It wasn’t much, about the size of a fifty pence piece, but it worried me a bit. The slight ache that I had in my groin was still there and I wondered if I might have some sort of infection. There again, I was due a biopsy down there and did wonder if the doctor hadn’t told me everything.

‘I will have to talk to Mummy about this when we’re alone.’ I thought.

I had a wee and, noticing that it was normal in colour, I sighed with relief. Maybe I was all right after all? Then after cleaning myself up, I slipped on my clean panties.

Standing up, I adjusted my skirt, and then went down to join Andrea.

I took the baby alarm downstairs. Andrea had made us a cup of tea, which was nice, so picking up the mugs, we went into the sitting room and watched the Princess Diaries, cuddled up on the sofa. I was a bit preoccupied with the phone call that I had received from Daddy and what I had found in my panties, but not for long as I was cuddled up to my sweetie and had other things on my mind!

We lost track of time a bit and were both startled to here the door open. Looking up, there was Claire staring down at us.

Andrea stiffened up as she looked at her sister in horror.

‘Hello, what’s this?’

‘W…what are you doing home so early.’ I asked shakily.

‘Tummy ache, like–monthly visitor–felt a bit bad so I got a taxi home. So Andrew, you look really pretty, what’s your like, girlie name?’

‘A…A…Andrea.’

‘That’s lovely. Like the makeup. Is that my wig?’

Andrea nodded. I was struck dumb for some reason.

‘Right, I’m off for a bath and bed, see you tomorrow.’ She turned to leave.

‘Claire?’ said Andrea.

She turned back.

‘What?’

‘Y—you d—don’t mind me like this?’

She smiled tiredly. ‘I’ve known for ages that you’ve been pinching my stuff. I saw you once too, when I came back from school early and you’d been off sick. You looked pretty then and you look pretty now. I just went out again and when I came back you were dressed as a boy again. Look we’ll talk tomorrow. Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone if you want it kept secret. Night-night, girls–oh and, Andrea–’

‘What?’

‘I’ve always, like, wanted a sister to go shopping with.’

She smiled, then left, closing the door quietly behind her.

We looked at each other, smiled and carried on watching the film. Mind you we became a bit distracted and my panties got damp again.

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To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

The next few days were quiet–well fairly quiet. ..     Football Girl Chapter 18 By Susan Brown

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Previously...

We lost track of time a bit and were both startled to hear the door open. Looking up, there was Claire staring down at us.

Andrea stiffened up as she looked at her sister in horror.

‘Hello, what’s this?’

‘W…what are you doing home so early.’ I asked shakily.

‘Tummy ache, like–monthly visitor–felt a bit bad so I got a taxi home. So Andrew, you look really pretty, what’s your like, girlie name?’

‘A…A…Andrea.’

‘That’s lovely. Like the makeup. Is that my wig?’

Andrea nodded. I was struck dumb for some reason.

‘Right, I’m off for a bath and bed, see you tomorrow.’ She turned to leave.

‘Claire?’ said Andrea.

She turned back.

‘What?’

‘Y—you d—don’t mind me like this?’

She smiled tiredly. ‘I’ve known for ages that you’ve been pinching my stuff. I saw you once too, when I came back from school early and you’d been off sick. You looked pretty then and you look pretty now. I just went out again and when I came back you were dressed as a boy again. Look we’ll talk tomorrow. Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone if you want it kept secret. Night-night, girls–oh and, Andrea–’

‘What?’
‘I’ve always, like, wanted a sister to go shopping with.’

She smiled, then left, closing the door quietly behind her.

We looked at each other, smiled and carried on watching the film. Mind you we became a bit distracted and my panties got damp again.

And now the story continues…

The next few days were quiet–well fairly quiet.

Claire was very upbeat about her new “sister”. The next morning when Andrea was in Andrew mode again, he and Claire went to visit their mum. I knew from Andrew that they were going to talk about his cross dressing while they were out and I was pleased because it looked as if things were going to be okay between them.

For my part; although I was feeling a bit grotty and my nose had started to run, I went out for a jog around the grounds. I found that I was getting quite out of breath rather quickly and my tummy was aching a bit too. I wondered if I was coming down with something, so when I got back inside I went to find Mummy. She was in the nursery with the twins, getting them ready for the morning.

‘Hi, Mummy.’ I said.

‘Hello, angel,’ she said looking up and smiling, ‘your voice sounds a bit croaky.’

‘Yes, I think that I might be coming down with something.’

The twins were in the lobster pot, playing with their fingers and toes so Mummy got up and came to me. ‘You certainly look a bit peaky.’ She felt my forehead, ‘and you’re hot or that might be from your run. Anyway, let’s not take any chances. Have a shower and pop back into bed for a while. You may feel a bit better later.’

‘Okay.’ I said smiling tiredly.

I took off my track suit and noticed a small spot of blood on my panties; then, when I went to the loo, my urine looked quite brown. ‘Must be part of this cold or flu thing.’ I thought as I flushed the toilet.

I had a quick shower and, despite the heat of the water, I was shivering somewhat. I really hoped that I wasn’t coming down with something nasty, like the flu. I was lucky in a way because the next match wasn’t until the weekend, so I had time to get over whatever it was and play the game too–if picked. Mind you, they had been playing well without me and I might not even be picked.

That thought worried me slightly. As usual, I didn’t think that much of my talent and I seriously wondered if I would be considered for Sunday’s home match against Cranley United.

After drying myself, I pulled on a clean pair of panties and my nightie and then climbed into bed. I was quite light headed and the room seemed to spin a bit. I kept having to use a tissue as my nose was running and my throat felt tight and uncomfortable. On top of that I had a headache. I wasn’t at all a happy bunny and felt a bit sorry for myself at the realisation that I wasn’t very well.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up, bizarrely it was dark. I couldn’t have slept all day, surely?

I wanted to get up, but my head was pounding and it hurt to swallow. I ached all over–especially my tummy. I felt terrible and I just wanted to cry. I hugged my bunny and then I just fell asleep again.

I woke up to feel something cool on my forehead. Opening my eyes; blurrily I could see Mummy, in her dressing gown, leaning over me.

‘Hello, Mummy.’ I croaked.

‘It’s alright, Susan, I’m just trying to make you feel a bit cooler.’

‘What’s wrong with me?’

‘You’ve got the flu, love. The doctor came in earlier. She said you need to have some rest and let nature take its course.

‘What about my red panties?’

‘What red panties, love, you haven’t got any.’

‘My panties–they were red’

‘Look, don’t worry about your panties, honey. If you want some red ones, I’ll get some for you. You just need to rest.’

‘My tummy hurts.’

‘I know, love. D’you need the loo?’

‘No.’

‘Okay, well don’t worry, when you have the flu, you hurt everywhere. Just try to rest and you’ll feel better tomorrow; all right?’

‘Mmm.’ I said as I drifted off to sleep again.

When I wakened next morning, I felt a bit better and not so confused. I wasn’t sure if the conversation I had with Mummy had been a dream or reality. I still had a headache and ached all over, but not so much. I was thirsty and luckily, someone had left a glass of water on the bedside table. After a drink, my throat felt slightly better and I lay back and sort of just drifted in and out a bit.

I woke up some time later and discovered Claire was sitting by the bed reading a mag or something.

‘Hello.’ She said.

‘Hi,’ I croaked.

‘I don’t know, talk about like, lazy. Lying there sleeping all the time while I have to do all the work. D’you know, I’ve like, had to wash up twice, while you’ve up here been lazing in bed.’

‘What time is it?’

‘Seven-thirty.’

‘In the evening?’

‘Yeah, and I wanted to watch a steamy film on the box, but your mum said I should sit here like a lemon and keep you company. I wouldn’t mind, but you’ve been asleep and snoring like a warthog; Andrew’s got out of it ’cos, like he’s gone to Melchester with your dad ’cos he had to talk to your agent about a big mega deal that will make you loads of money so I couldn’t go too.’

I took in about half of that at the time and digested the rest later, but I managed to get the drift that Claire wasn’t very happy.

‘Sorry.’ I croaked.

‘What about?’

‘Spoiling your plans.’

‘Don’t be silly. I didn’t really want to go anyway. How do you, like feel?’

‘Grotty.’

‘Well, you look grotty, with your red nose, pale look, that is so out now, and your hair, yuk!’

‘Thanks for making a girl feel nice.’

‘No problem, it’s what I’m here for.’

I wriggled a bit.

‘What?’

‘I need to use the loo.’

‘Oh, right, do you, like need a bedpan or something.’

‘No.’

‘That’s good, ’cos I don’t even know what it would look like. Want a hand getting up then?’

‘Please.’

She was quite gentle with me, which was a welcome surprise and she helped me to the bathroom.

‘Gosh, your nightie’s a bit niffy; want a clean one?’

‘Yes please–and some panties?’

‘Right; are you okay to leave–you won’t like, faint or anything?’

‘I’m fine; could you just get some things for me?’

‘Okay; just scream if you think that you’re going to throw a wobbly.’

‘Okay,’ I said tiredly. I pulled down my panties and sat on the loo. There was another spot of blood in my panties, but it didn’t really register. It hurt a bit to wee, but once again, I was slightly zoned out so ignored it.

There was a knock on the door.

‘Are you decent?’

‘No.’

‘Oh, right.’

The door opened and a clean nightie and panties were thrown in.

‘Let me know when I can come in.’

‘Okay.’ I said as I wiped myself and then stood up.

The room spun a bit so I sat down again. I was perspiring and I thought I might black out. But after a minute, the room stopped spinning and I was able to take off my old nightie and put on the clean one, together with the panties. I then gave myself a fright by looking in the mirror. I looked washed out, with a red nose and hair plastered on my face. Not a good avert for Glamour Girl of the Month!

‘Are you ready yet?’ asked Claire behind the closed door.

‘Yes, it’s okay to come in.’

She opened the door and then helped me up. I was soon back in bed. ‘Want a drink or something?’ she asked.

‘Yes please; a cup of tea would be nice. Where’s Mummy and the twins?’

‘Well, Mrs Moon has taken the twins to see her sister while your mum is visiting my mum.’

‘How is she?’

‘Who?’

‘Your mum.’

‘Oh, she’s not bad. She’s like having some tests done about her thyroid and will be in hospital for a while longer.’

‘Are you worried about her?’

‘Course I am, but the doc’s say she’s like going to be okay. It may take a while before she gets better–I miss her though.’

Claire looked really sad and I wanted to hug her.

‘Look, don’t like, get too close I don’t want to catch the dreaded lurgie off you.’

I smiled.

‘See you in a mo,’ she said as she left me in bed and went down to make me a drink. I felt a lot better after my change of clothes and just lay back and drifted a bit until I heard the door opening again.

‘Here we are, luv; one steamin’ cuppa for the, like afflicted.’

I opened my eyes and smiled. ‘You are silly.’

‘Probably. Now, does little dinkums need a straw can you manage without?’

‘I can manage. You don’t have a great bedside manner do you?’

‘Na; unless I’m, like ill then I milk it for all it’s worth.’

‘I bet.’

I drank the tea and it felt nice against my sore throat. There were also a few Jaffa Cakes on a plate; I managed to eat those too and began to feel I was on the road to recovery. Maybe this was one of those twenty-four hour jobs and I would be up and back to normal after a couple of days. After drinking my tea, Claire looked at me strangely.

‘What?’ I said.

She looked uncomfortable. ‘Susan?’

‘Mmm?’

‘I, er picked up your dirty nightie and knickers and put them in the wash basket.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Right–look, your knickers,’

‘What about them.’

‘There was, like blood on them.’

I didn’t want to worry her, what with her mum and everything, so I thought of something quickly.

‘Yea, silly me. I erm, shaved my bikini line and I sort of slipped.’

‘Yuk, what you do that for, it’s not like anyone is going to see down there, except maybe, Andrew–oooh GROSS, I don’t want to go there. I’ll have nightmares for years––’ She shuddered.

‘What’s wrong with Andrew?’ I said indignantly but secretly glad that I had got away with the white lie.

‘’Well, he’s my brother!’ She said it as if it was explanation enough.

I changed the subject. ‘What do you think of Andrea?’

She shrugged; ‘She’s like, okay, quite pretty actually.’

‘It doesn’t bother you?’

‘What?’

‘That she dresses like that.’

‘No; the only thing I want to make sure of that she doesn’t pinch my stuff and I get to wear any nice things that she buys.’

‘That’s not fair though!’

‘Who ever said I was fair?’ she replied with an evil grin.

After that I was quite tired, so Claire went off to do things with facebook and I went to sleep. A bit later I became aware of someone pushing my hair away from my face. I opened my eyes and smiled.

‘Hi, Andrew.’

‘Hi, hon, how are you feeling?’

‘A bit better thanks.’

‘Good. I’ve missed you.’

‘I have been here all the time you know.’

‘Yeah, but asleep mostly.’

‘Sorry.’

‘’Snot your fault. You do look better, more colour in your cheeks.’

‘Mmm.’ I said sitting up in bed.

We held hands for a while but I wouldn’t let him kiss me, in case he got my germs.

‘Done any dressing the last few days?’ I asked after a while.

‘A bit, when no one was about, apart from Claire. She’s been giving me tips.’

‘I don’t like the sound of that.’

‘No, she’s been cool about it all. I like it when we are sisters, if you know what I mean.’

‘Yes, I know.’

We talked for a while and then Andrew left when Mummy came in.

‘Feeling any better, honey?’

‘Everyone asks me that. I think I’ll put a sign outside the door saying, “The patient is feeling better”.’

We both had a giggle at that. Sitting by the bed she looked at me.

‘I’ve been to see Andrew’s and Claire’s mum again. It looks like she’s going to be in hospital for a while longer so Claire and Andrew will be staying here.’

‘Is she bad?’ I asked, all anxious.

‘Well, it’s taking longer than they thought to make her better but she should be okay, it all takes time though.’

‘Claire and Andrew didn’t say much.’

‘No, I said not to as I didn’t want you to worry about it. Now, are you okay? D’you feel like getting up for a while?’

I nearly told her about my bleeding and tummy pains, but decided against it. I was quite worried but didn’t want to go into hospital like Claire’s and Andrew’s mum. The biopsy that I was supposed to have this week on my boy bits had been postponed, so there was time enough to tell my parents and doctor about it then. I know it was stupid, but I kept thinking that it might go away and was connected somehow with the flu. I was feeling a lot better now, so why worry everyone about it?

The next few days saw me get better rapidly and my aches and pains gradually went away. It turned out that it was some sort of 48-hour bug that was going around and I, being young and fit, was able to shake it off quite quickly.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that my panties had stopped spotting with blood and my tummy ache had disappeared too, so I must have been right about it all being connected.

On Thursday, I went out for a long walk and apart from a tight chest, I felt okay. The club wanted to know if I was available for the match on Sunday, so Friday morning I went out for a run. My chest had stopped feeling tight and I had quite a good run apart from a slight touch of jogger’s nipple on my sensitive breasts. After getting back and showering I put on a pink top and blue denim skirt and went to find Daddy.

He was in the office, sending some emails.

‘Hi, Daddy.’

‘Hi, Honey. Oh, Susan, I’ve just had an email from the club, they want to know about your fitness.’

‘Yes, they asked me yesterday if I was available and I said I’d let them know today.’

‘How did your run go, love?’

‘Okay. I feel as fit as a fiddle.’

‘Mmm, I’m not sure you should go back yet and your mother feels the same.’

‘But, Daddy, I am all right and I want to play. I need to get back to doing things. Just hanging around here is so boring!’

He laughed.

‘You poor hard-done-by thing. Look, I’ll say yes, but if you feel in any way bad, you can pull out before the game.’

‘Thank you, Daddy!’ I squealed and then ran over and gave him a tight hug.

Saturday saw me out on a run again. I was feeling really good now. Maybe the enforced break had helped recharge my batteries or something.

The Old’s went to visit some obscure relatives on Saturday and took the twins with them. Mr and Mr Moon had gone out to the shops and weren’t expected back until later in the afternoon. This gave Claire an idea. She had been dying to get at Andrea and have some sort of makeover thing with her.

Andrew and I thought it was a brilliant idea, and it did not take all that long for Andrew to be transformed into Andrea once again.

She wore a pretty LBD which I had bought a while back and not had a chance to wear yet. What with the black sheer tights and heels, long wig and plenty of party style makeup, she looked wonderful. From the top of her pretty head to her painted toes, she looked a real girl. I couldn’t believe how gorgeous and edible she was and I could see that Claire was suitably gobsmacked, but it was Andrea’s reaction to her reflection that put a lump in my throat.

Andrea looked upset–as if she was going to cry–and happy, all at the same time. She kept moving her head, as if she wasn’t sure that the reflection she saw was really her. Even Claire had tears in her eyes as she observed the caterpillar transformed into a real butterfly.

‘Well, bruv–or sis really–I can see like, that we are going to have some fun times in the future.’

‘I can’t go out like this though and what will mum think.’

‘What about mum?’

‘She’d have a fit if she saw me like this.’

‘No she wouldn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘She’s known almost as long as I have about your little hobby.’

Andrea whirled around, her painted mouth wide open.

‘Claire.’

‘What?’

‘She knows?’

‘Yes.’

‘B…but she never said anything.’

‘She thought it might just be a like, phase or something. Anyway, you know how she’s, like cool about stuff. She wanted you to find things out for yourself an’ that. If it was serious, she reckoned you would tell her like, eventually.’

I could tell that Andrea was shocked by this so I went over and gave her a cuddle. Soon, she got over it and we spent a few pleasant hours trying on clothes and experimenting with makeup. I even tried on Claire’s–now Andrea’s–wig and was amazed at how different I looked.

When I woke up on Sunday morning, I got up and padded over to the window. Throwing open the curtains, I could see that it was one of those cold winter mornings with a frost on the ground and clear blue skies.

Removing my nightie and panties, I noted that there were no nasty red spots. It looked as though I was in the clear about that and sighed with relief as I didn’t like to keep things from my parents.

I had a quick shower and then–rather regretfully–dressed as Mark, pressure vest and all. I was soon downstairs having some breakfast. Being the last one up, I found the conversation in full swing when I arrived. Well it would have been if the twins weren’t making such a cacophony.

Daddy was feeding one and Mummy the other. The kids were waving their arms about and I wondered if they were pretending to be windmills or something. Trying to hold a conversation in this din was almost impossible, so after having a couple of weetabixes, Claire, Andrew and I went into the sitting room with our drinks for a bit of peace and quiet.

‘It’s funny,’ said Andrew as we sat down.

‘What?’

‘You dressed as Mark; it doesn’t seem, like it’s right somehow.’

‘How d’you think I feel? I only look like this when I have to.’

‘It’s only like, for today.’ said Claire, ‘you can be back to Susan when you get back from the game.’

‘I know, I wish…’

‘What?’ said Andrew.

‘I wish I could just play as a girl.’

‘Well, that’s just like, football, a male dominated game; There should be mixed teams.’

‘Yes,’ said Andrew. ‘It should be based on skill and not what's in your pants.’

‘Or knickers,’ Claire chipped in and we all giggled.

It was only Daddy and I going to the game today. Claire and Andrew were going to see their mum and Mummy was staying at home with the twins. Evidently, Mrs Moon was going to give her some cooking lessons and I was kind of glad I wasn’t going to be around as I didn’t fancy being a food taster.

As usual with a home match, the traffic got heavier as we approached the ground. I had a cap on, trying to hide my face. The last thing we wanted was Daddy’s car to be scratched by an opposing supporter.

Daddy flashed his pass as we drew up to the private gate and we were let in without much fuss. We were a bit early; the game wasn’t kicking off for another two hours. I did wonder why some of the supporters came to the ground so soon, but I think that they just like to wander around, go into the shop and take it all in before the game.

We parked over in the corner and got out of the car. I grabbed my sports bag and we made our way in through the players and officials entrance. On the other side of the gates I could see quite a few supporters looking over at us. I gave them a wave and they waved back? I could even hear one or two Markie chants and that made me go a bit red in the face.

‘I have to go and see a few people, Mark, okay?’

‘Okay, Daddy…I mean Dad.’

We smiled ruefully at each other and went our separate ways. I went into the dressing room and saw Petre Ogsood in the corner doing something with a hand held game.

‘Hi, Petre, you’re early?’

‘Yes, I like to get here early and have a few quiet moments, it helps the nerves.’

‘You nerves? Never!’ I said sitting down beside him.

‘Yes, always, I get stage fright, I suppose. Once the game starts I’m okay though. How about you, little one, don’t you feel the same?’

‘I suppose–but once the game starts, I’m too busy to think about it.’

Before long, other players began to drift in and one of the assistant managers came in and pinned the team up on the board. Checking the list, I saw I was one of the subs. I was a bit disappointed about it, but realised I hadn’t had much match practice and had been poorly.

Gradually the noise increased outside in the stadium and we went out for a warm up and kick about. It still gave me quite a thrill to step out on the pitch. I suppose the stadium was a quarter full by that time. I heard some chants of “welcome back, Markie”, and I waved to the fans and got a cheer for it. Almost immediately we were running up and down the pitch, kicking some balls about. Twenty minutes later, I felt thoroughly warmed up and the stadium was nearly full. The opposing team were up the other end doing their warm-ups. They looked a bit intimidating, being a squad full of tall players, but I knew that they were a fair team and we had no problems with needle like some other teams I could mention.

When we got back in the dressing room, Mr McPherson was there ready to give one of his famous, very brief, pre-match team talks.

‘Right, you lot, settle down. There aren’t any surprises in Cranley United’s team sheet. We’ve played them before and we can beat ’em. We’ll ‘no have any problems on the ground, but in the air, they’re strong. I wan’ the full backs to overlap and I wan’ clean, crisp passing on the floor. Run rings around the buggers an ye’ll do fine. Get out there and win.’

With that, he got up and led us out.

Sitting in the dugout watching others play wasn’t easy for me. I wanted to be out there and playing. But I could do nothing about it and just watched the game unfold. To be honest it was boring. There weren’t many goal-mouth incidents and the midfield seemed to cancel each other out. The half time team talk was more about getting stuck in rather than tactics. We did put a substitute on, Wayne Chambers, one of the new signings and he went up front and seemed to cause a bit more damage.

We won a corner and as usual, Cranley’s height advantage meant that they were able to clear, but only as far as Chambers, who was lurking just outside the box. He met the ball crisply and it flew into the top right hand corner of the net.

‘GOAL!’

We all jumped up and down in the dugout and hugged each other. The crowd went mad and it took a few minutes for things to calm down again and allow the game resume.

After the goal, Cranley were all over us like a rash. Trying to gain the advantage was difficult as once again, the ball seemed to spend much of the time in the midfield. Then we made a mistake and one of our defenders gifted a ball to Lazlow, Cranley’s top scorer, who jinked past the keeper and put the ball into an empty net.

‘GOAL!’

So it was one-all with thirty minutes to go. I was called out of the dugout and after a few hurried instructions, I replaced the defender who had messed up.

The cheers that I heard as I ran on the pitch gave me goose bumps but all feelings like that disappeared as I soon got into the action.

The game had livened up a bit as both teams were going for a result. It was now end to end stuff with more chances on goal in the next ten minutes than had occurred in the previous seventy.

I managed to spray the ball about and had a couple of admittedly speculative shots tipped over the crossbar by their athletic keeper.

Then they got a penalty when Michaels, another new signing of ours handled the ball in the area.

Lazlow stepped up to the spot and shot, sending our keeper the wrong way.

‘GOAL!’

It was now two one to Cranley and only seven minutes left to play. We created chance after chance and still wasn’t able to break down the opposition. I did my best, passing the ball and getting into positions that I hoped would give me a fair chance of scoring or even making a goal, but somehow things weren’t working out. Then, their keeper threw the ball out to Fletcher, Cranley’s Scottish international defender.

He looked up, saw I was in the way and tried to get past me. I managed to do a slide tackle–getting the ball rather than his leg–and was on my feet and running before he was up again. Other defenders were bearing down on me so I lobbed the ball over two of them, ran around and picked it up again. To say that they were wrong footed would be an understatement as the only thing they managed to do was run into each other. It was now only me and the keeper. I was aware of heavy breathing behind me and not knowing whether it was one of my players–it was so noisy, I couldn’t hear myself think let alone hear any of our players–I looked up. I was too far ahead of my team mates so a cross was out of the question, so I didn’t have much choice. I shot at the goal using the outside of my foot. The ball bent like a banana and went in off the post, leaving the goalkeeper stranded.

‘GOAL!’

The stadium erupted and I was mobbed by our players. The chants of Markie, Markie, began reverberating around the stadium and, as I gasped to get some well needed air into my lungs, I felt elated.

There was only two minutes to play and it was still a draw. We piled on the pressure and then the inevitable happened; their keeper pulled down Etoo and the ref blew his whistle and pointed to the spot.

Etoo took the ball and placed it on the spot. He stepped back, looked up and then smiled. The keeper jinked about on his line and waved his arms about. Etoo ran forward and smashed the ball into the back of the net.

‘GOAL!’

After that, the place went wild again; soon, we were back in position waiting for Cranley to start again.

The board said three minutes extra time–not long to hang on for a victory.

They threw everything at us and we camped in our half, trying to keep the ball out of the net. Inevitably, the pressure told and we gave away a stupid free kick, about ten yards outside our penalty area. We quickly assembled a wall and I was in the middle. My nose began twitching and I wanted to sneeze. I rubbed my nose and then put my hand over my crotch, as everyone does in these situations.

The whistle blew and Thomas, their captain, replaced the ball about three inches to the left of the position the ref had put it and stepped back four paces.

He looked up and ran forward.

Then I sneezed and my hand automatically went up to my face. The next second I felt an explosion as the ball hit my unprotected crotch with tremendous force. I was pole-axed, going down immediately, and screaming with pain.

Seconds before I blacked out, I heard someone say from a long way away, ‘Shit, look at that blood!’

---

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

It seemed like forever that I was lying there. The pain I was feeling was more excruciating than any I had ever felt before. My knees were up into my stomach–in a foetal position, I suppose. I could hear people talking but I couldn’t take in what was being said...     Football Girl Chapter 19 By Susan Brown

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Previously...

They threw everything at us and we camped in our half, trying to keep the ball out of the net. Inevitably, the pressure told and we gave away a stupid free kick, about ten yards outside our penalty area. We quickly assembled a wall and I was in the middle. My nose began twitching and I wanted to sneeze. I rubbed my nose and then put my hand over my crotch, as everyone does in these situations.

The whistle blew and Thomas, their captain, replaced the ball about three inches to the left of the position the ref had put it and stepped back four paces.

He looked up and ran forward.

Then I sneezed and my hand automatically went up to my face. The next second I felt an explosion as the ball hit my unprotected crotch with tremendous force. I was pole-axed, going down immediately, and screaming with pain.

Seconds before I blacked out, I heard someone say from a long way away, ‘Shit, look at that blood!’

And now the story continues…

It seemed like forever that I was lying there. The pain I was feeling was more excruciating than any I had ever felt before. My knees were up into my stomach–in a foetal position, I suppose. I could hear people talking but I couldn’t take in what was being said.

After a while I was vaguely aware of being lifted onto what I presumed was a stretcher. Then, as someone tried to straighten my legs, I screamed and everything went dark.

I came round, not knowing where I was but I heard–almost in the distance–my daddy, saying something. ‘Don’t worry you’re on the way to hospital, they’ll sort you out––’

I can’t remember much more for a while after that–it was like a series of snapshots, where I drifted in and out of consciousness. One minute, I was in an ambulance, then in a corridor; when I next woke up, I was in a room with lots of people around me and somebody was sticking needles in me. Then I drifted off as the pain faded away and I slept.

I woke up gradually; the first thing that I became aware of was a bleeping sound. It got on my nerves a bit…bleep…bleep…bleep…I opened one eye–it was quite sticky–then the other one. Things were somewhat blurred for a moment and then I felt terribly sick. Seconds later someone was there while I heaved up into a metal dish. After that my tummy felt a bit better and I lay back again.

I must have fallen asleep, because when woke up again the room was light; vaguely I could see sunlight flooding the room and the curtains had been drawn back. I raised my head a little and looked around, blinking in the harsh brightness. I could still hear the bleep machine in the background, but what I noticed most was a nurse sitting at the end of the bed, writing something down on a clipboard.

‘Hello,’ I said, but it came out as a sort of grunt.

She looked up and smiled.

‘Hello, sleepyhead, how are you?’

‘Thirsty.’ I whispered.

‘What was that? Thirsty, right, hang on a moment.’

She got up, went to a table and came back with a plastic cup and a straw.

‘Right, lean up a bit and have a few sips of this water; not too much–it might make you sick again.’

I sucked up the water and it made me feel much better as it slipped down my parched throat.

‘Thank you,’ I said, my voice feeling a bit stronger after being lubricated.

‘That’s okay. How do you feel?’

‘A bit strange. What happened?’

‘You got hit by a ball and it caused some problems down below.’

‘What problems?’ I said, realising suddenly that I couldn’t feel anything below my waist.

‘The doctor will be around shortly and she’ll explain. There are a few people outside who would like to see you. Do you feel up to having visitors?’

‘Please.’

‘Okay, I’ll go and get them, but they can only stay for a short while as you are still not very strong.’

She left the room then, making me wonder what she meant. I remembered snatches of conversations while I was writhing around on the pitch, something about blood, but I was in too much pain to take much in, so I stared at the ceiling. I could move my arms okay and was tempted to lift the sheets to have a look what was going on down below, but all I could see was a sort of tent affair above my middle section. One strange thing though, was the fact that I couldn’t feel much from my groin area. At first I thought that I might be paralysed, but I could feel my legs below my knees and I could wiggle my toes a bit. My arm had a clear tube running into it and I could feel the needle in my arm.

All in all I was in a poor state that wasn’t helped by the thumping headache that throbbed at my temple. I shut my eyes for a few minutes as the sunlight was hurting them.

The door swung open and I heard familiar voices. Smiling, I opened my eyes and there was Mummy and Daddy staring down at me smiling; Daddy didn’t look at his best.

‘Daddy, you need a shave.’

He felt his jaw and looked ruefully at me. ‘I think you’re right, but I’ve been up all night so I have a good excuse. What about you, that hospital gown is hardly the prettiest thing I’ve seen you wearing.’

I smiled at that. It was nice that Daddy was making light of things and trying to cheer me up.

‘How are you, honey?’ Mummy enquired.

‘I feel a bit weird. I can’t feel much down below. What happened to me?’

‘Don’t you remember, sweetheart?’ asked Mummy.

‘Sort of––I think I was hit by the ball and it made me double up in pain. Then someone said something about blood and I don’t really remember much else.’

‘Well, you got hurt badly in your groin. The doctor’s coming in soon and she’ll explain. You’d better prepare yourself for a bit of a shock.’

My blood ran cold at those words. ‘A—am I going to die?’

‘No, honey, but you came close because you lost a lot of blood. It was Melchester’s doctor who saved you. He was on the ball and was able to control the bleeding just in time. Look, we could tell you all about it, but it’s complicated and we might get it wrong. What I will say is that you are safe and you will get well again, really soon.’

‘Promise?’

‘Guide’s honour.’

‘What about the club, Daddy? Are they all right about it? They aren’t angry about me being injured?’

‘No, they’re only concerned about your getting well; and you saved them a point.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘When that shot hit you, you saved a goal!’

‘Oh wow!’

The door opened again and a lady came in. She was wearing a white coat and had a stethoscope hanging round her neck. I suppose she was about forty and was very pretty. She was followed by the nurse I had seen earlier, pushing some sort of trolley.

‘Hello there,’ she said approaching me, ‘how are you feeling?’

‘Sore in some places and numb in others.’

‘Well, that’s a help,’ she said smiling, ‘now, let’s have a look at things down below, so if you don’t mind your mum and dad leaving for a minute?’

‘Okay, but don’t go far.’

‘We won’t,’ Mummy said, as they both gave me a kiss and then left the room.

‘Right, let’s see how things are looking, then we can have a wee chat, okay?’

‘Okay.’ I agreed, beginning to worry about what the “wee chat” would be about.

The nurse smiled at me as she lifted off the sheets. The doctor came up close and surveyed my middle. I couldn’t see anything because the nurse was holding the sheets up as a sort of a barrier.

‘Can you feel this?’ said the doctor?’

I felt a sort of pressure on my penis.

‘Not much.’

‘How about this?’

‘The same feeling,’ I said.

She prodded and poked me a bit more and I was able to gauge how much of me was numb, from just below my belly button to half way down my legs.

‘Okay, that’s fine,’ She said as the nurse rearranged my bed covers again.

‘You are healing well, and you should start getting some feeling back gradually. You will have a bit of pain, but we’ll try to control that with pain killers.’

She sat down by the side of the bed.

‘You’ve been very brave, but I need to talk about what happened to you. I asked your parents to leave it to me because I’m used to explaining this sort of thing. Do you want them to come back in?’

‘Have you told them yet?’

‘About what happened to you? Yes, they know everything’

‘Can they come in please?’

‘Yes, of course.’

The doctor turned to the nurse and nodded. She left and a few minutes later, came back with Mummy and Daddy. Mummy came and sat down opposite the doctor and held my hand. Daddy just stood at the end of the bed looking a bit lost. I felt sorry for him but I don’t know why.

‘Right,’ said the doctor, ‘first I’ve been very rude, not telling you who I am. I am Doctor Phipps and the nurse over there is Staff Nurse Robinson.’ The nurse looked up and gave me a little finger wave and a smile.

‘I think that you ought to be told about everything. It might upset you, but I find that when you have all the facts, you can think about things and then move on. Is that all right with you?’

I just nodded. I could feel heart beating so loudly that I was sure the others could hear it.

‘You came in as an emergency. You had lost a lot of blood and your blood pressure had dropped alarmingly. However, thanks to prompt action from the club doctor, it wasn’t critical. We stabilised you, gave you a blood transfusion and then assessed your condition. We were told you had been hit by a football in your groin area at close range. There was extensive bleeding and damage to your scrotal area and after cauterising the blood vessels we had an x-ray and MRI scan done on the area. To be honest, we were a bit puzzled because you had budding breasts and a rather feminine shape, so was rather interested in seeing what the scans would reveal. Your father had accompanied you and he gave me information about who your doctor was and what had been going on in your life and the fact that you see yourself as a girl and not a boy. I won’t go on about the pills you bought off the internet as you are by now, well aware how silly it was to do that.’

I nodded, my face getting hot and no doubt looking very red.

‘Having spoken to your doctor, she explained that you were due for some tests and that she was a bit concerned about your testicles. Anyway, events have overtaken that and I shared some information with her and she was in agreement with me as to the course of action, subject to the results of the X-ray and ultrasound scan.’

Mummy held to my hand tightly and Daddy looked rather serious. The nurse was still doing things with the trolley and I became aware of a pigeon making cooing noises, standing on the window sill outside.

‘The X-ray and scan results came back fairly quickly, for once and the results were not very clear,’ continued Doctor Phipps, ‘and I have to tell you that yesterday evening you went into surgery and due to the fact that your testicles were badly damaged, we had to remove them.’

I breathed in sharply as Doctor Phipps continued.

‘On removal of the testicles, we found that beneath the scrotal sack, was an opening. Without getting too technical, we found evidence of female reproductive organs. While you were still under, I called in one of my colleagues–who possesses a high degree of expertise in these matters–and he confirmed what I suspected. You are what is commonly termed as being intersexed. In other words, you have both male and female reproductive organs.’

‘Oh!’ I said, feeling a bit faint.

‘Are you all right, love?’ said Mummy with concern. Daddy had come over and was standing close too.

‘Y—yes, I s’pose so, but what does it mean?’

‘It means, that you are neither a boy nor a girl, but a bit of both. Judging by your body shape, the female side of you has the ascendancy and even if you had not had an accident, something would have had to be done in the very near future. My colleague and I discussed things with your parents and decided on the best course of action. We noted that you had expressed a wish to become a girl at some stage, although you didn’t want to make any mistakes that you would regret in the future. Tell me, had you had any bleeding from the area over the last week or so?’

‘Yes, I was going to tell Mummy about it, but…but I got frightened and then the bleeding stopped so I just thought that it might have been some sort of infection or something.’

‘Well there was evidence that you were having a period hence the amount of blood. It wasn’t only damaged blood vessels but also menstrual blood that had been trapped inside. Anyway, it was decided that we should rectify things as best we could on a temporary basis until we could get your feelings on the matter. At the moment, you still have your penis and we have cleaned things up a bit down there, but what we want and need to know urgently is do you wish to keep your penis as it is or would you prefer sexual reassignment surgery to become a complete woman?’

‘Mummy, Daddy, what should I do?’

‘Look, we’ll leave you for a minute to have a private chat,’ said Dr Phipps. ‘Call me when you have decided.’ She and Nurse Robinson left us and for a few moments it was quiet.

Daddy came and sat down on the chair that the doctor had just vacated.

‘I—I don’t understand. Have I got a vagina down there then?’

‘Yes, dear.’ said Mummy.

‘And a penis?’

‘Mmm.’

‘Gross! I want one or the other, but not both.’

‘Well, it’s your decision, love.’

‘What about my football career?’

‘What about it?’ said Daddy.

‘How will it be affected by all this?’

‘I don’t know, but you must look after your health first and then we will sort out the other things going on in your life.’

‘I—I don’t want to be part boy and part girl. I can’t be a proper boy without all my boy bits, can I Mummy?’

‘Not really, love. You won’t be able to have children.’ She looked sad.

‘Will I be able to have them as a girl?’

‘Probably, they’ll have to do further tests to see if you are fully functioning, but the specialist did say that as far as he could see, you should be able to bear children.’

I thought about my life up to this moment and how I loved being and dressing as a girl. I recalled how sad I was always when I had to dress as Mark on occasions and how happy I was to revert to being Susan. I loved my football, but I could only be a player for another fifteen to twenty years–if I was lucky enough to be injury free–then I had the rest of my life to live. I could stay as I was and pretend that I was one hundred percent male, but I was sick of the deception. I didn’t want to look over my shoulder for years wondering if I would be found out or exposed in some cheap tabloid newspaper.

I wondered if I could fight my corner and become the first girl to play in league football. How would they treat me, as a girl or boy–or even some sort of weird freak? And how would the fans react? All questions to which I had no answer.

I looked at my parents and then I made my decision. I took a big breath.

‘Mummy, Daddy, I want to be a girl and I want to try to be the first girl to play in the Premier League and if I can’t do that, there are plenty of places in the world where I can earn a good living doing what I love.’

~*~

I was moved to a private hospital for the procedure because it had a reputation for secrecy and I could afford it. I had to see a psychiatrist for some reason and she went through the reasons why I wanted the procedure. Well, doh! I was a girl, wasn’t I? Anyway, I didn’t feel like had much choice because no way was I going to be an in-betweenie–neither girl nor boy but a bit of both.

Andrew was sweet; once I was able to get my mobile back we spent a lot of time talking. He was back at school now–as was Claire–and wasn’t able to visit as much as we would like and that was so boring. Claire and Andrew came as much as they could but it was difficult because they also had to visit their mum. She was getting better but it was a slow process. They were still staying at our house.

The private hospital was more like a hotel–carpets on the floor, soft bed, a digital TV on the wall and Sky TV too! The food was excellent with a menu similar to that which you get in a posh restaurant. Mind you, I wasn’t very hungry sometimes because the painkillers made me feel slightly sick.

It was strange not having any dangly bits down below. The funny thing was, sometimes I felt like I still had a willy. Mummy said that some people who lost legs and things felt the same for a while so perhaps it wasn’t so strange after all.

It was about ten days later that I was allowed to go home. I was still very sore, but happy in the knowledge that I was a complete girl now. After some tea, I was feeling tired so I went upstairs to bed. The surgery had gone well and although I was still in some pain and everything looked puffy, red and sore down there, I was pleased that things had turned out okay and there weren’t any complications. I was still rather washed out when I got home, so I spent a lot of time in bed and sleeping. The pain went away gradually and I was left feeling a bit sad somehow. Mark was gone now or the physical person that was Mark anyway. I wasn’t always sad being Mark. I had my football and sometimes I enjoyed doing boy things, but now my life had changed and I had to look to the future. The major thing that was giving me sleepless nights was what would happen when knowledge got out that I was a girl and not a boy.

One day, while I was still in my hospital room watching The Simpsons, Daddy came in. ‘Hi, Daddy,’ I said as he came over and kissed my forehead.

‘How are you feeling, love?’

‘Sore and bored.’

‘Never mind you’ll soon be home.’

He sat down by the bed and I used the remote to switch off the TV.

‘Look, we have to talk about what we’re going to say to the club.’

I was dreading this. ‘Mmm,’ I said.

‘I think we need some expert advice so I’ve brought along John Prentiss to talk about it. I’ve told him everything–I had to–I hope you don’t mind.’

I sighed. ‘No; it had to come out sometime, I suppose. How did he take it?’

‘Funnily enough he smiled.’

‘Smiled?’

‘Yes; he said that he knew that there was something about you that didn’t seem right. Anyway, he clammed up like a shell after that and just said that we needed to talk.’

‘Strange.’

‘That’s what I thought. Anyway, he’s just gone off to get some coffees for us and he’ll be here in a minute. Do you want a drink?’

‘No thanks, I just had a coke. I’ll be glad when I can get rid of this catheter, it’s not nice.’

‘According to the doctor, it’s coming out tomorrow, then you can forget about standing up to wee, you’ll make a mess!’

‘Daddy, don’t be rude, I’ll tell Mummy!’

‘You would too––’

The door opened and John Prentiss walked in, carrying the drinks.

‘Hi, Mark––sorry, Susan.’

‘That’s all right, John, even Daddy gets it mixed up sometimes.’

John handed a cup to Daddy and then sat down beside the bed.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Okay, I suppose.’

He looked at me carefully. ‘You look very pretty for an ex-boy.’

I smiled. ‘I wasn’t ever really a boy in the first place, just a girl with boy bits.’

‘I can see that. Look, we need to talk about where you see things going from here. What would you like to happen?’

‘I want to be a girl but I also want to play football–it’s my life.’

‘I know; you’ve got a rare talent and it would be wasted if you couldn’t play at the highest level.’

‘But can I?’

‘What?’

‘Play at the highest level.’

‘FIFA won’t allow girls to play with men, I’m not sure about people who are intersexed. It’s in the rules that mixed teams are not allowed and I don’t know how they would react to your rather unique situation. As far as women are concerned, a few have tried to join mens’ teams and their requests have been rejected out of hand.’

‘’t’s not fair.’ I whined.

‘Life isn’t fair, Susan, but we have to make the most of it.’

‘What can I do?’

‘There are a few options: option one, you pretend that you’re a boy and hide your girl bits and play on as before.’

‘But that’s dishonest.’

‘Well, technically speaking you are still, on paper anyway, a male; so from a legal standpoint we could argue that you can play because of that.’

‘That’s just silly. I have breasts and I don’t have a penis. I can get pregnant too so how can I even technically be considered a male?’

‘It’s just the legal formalities. Your birth certificate and other legal documents declare that you are male. Until that changes, in the eyes of the law you are still a boy.’

I looked at Daddy; he seemed as confused as me.

‘What are my other options?’

‘You tell Melchester that you are intersexed and see what they can come up with.’

‘Come up with?’

‘Well, as an intersexed person, they might try to argue the case that you were brought up as a boy and you have–or did have male parts, as it were and as such, special dispensation should be given in your case.’

‘Would they do that for me?’

‘Let’s put it this way. As a male, looking purely in financial terms, you are probably worth at least fifty million pounds to them on the transfer market. Also, your impact on the team is such that without you, they will struggle to get much silverware this year. So, yes, I think they would at least try to argue a case in favour of your staying.’

‘Are there any other alternatives?’

‘Yes; you give up playing men’s football and play for Melchester’s women’s team.’

I thought about that. The women’s league was getting quite popular now. Melchester had fielded a ladies’ team for several years and had won a few cups and the league a few years ago. Women’s football was very popular now and if I hadn’t already been involved with the men’s team, I would have tried to see if I could play for them. I still felt bad about all this though.

‘’t’s not fair.’

‘What isn’t?’ asked John.

‘That there can’t be mixed teams.’

‘I agree. If you have the skill, and you have, why should it matter what sex you happen to be? But it’s an unfair world and that’s the way of it.’

‘What d’you think, Daddy, you haven’t said much?’

‘I don’t know, honey. It’s a difficult one. On the one hand I wonder how would other players–the men I mean–react to you and then again, would opposing teams just try to steamroller you and use rough tactics? On the other hand, if you have the skill and talent, you should not be held back by any concerns about gender–it’s your call though, your mother and I will stick by you, whatever you decide.’

‘What would you do though?’

He looked at me thoughtfully.

‘If I was in your position, I would tell Melchester all about it, say you want to continue playing for them and if you can’t, then ask if you can join the girls’ team. You would be surprised at how good they are. I went to see them last season in the FA cup and there’s a lot of skill in women’s football and the support was very vocal.’

‘What about you, John?’

‘Well, talking as an agent, I would do the same. Fight FIFA if you want and try to stay where you are. If you lose, join the women’s team. Because of who you are and what you represent, we can get huge money with sponsorship and raise the profile of the women’s game up even further. Another thing you have to remember is that some clubs in other countries pay women players very good money. Whatever you decide, financially you will be secure.’

I was recalling all this in bed at home. It was quite late for me, about ten pm; the painkillers I was still taking made me feel a bit washed out and sleepy. But I was, despite everything, quite happy. Tomorrow, Mr McPherson was coming to see me. He had been told about me and he wanted to have a chat. He was bringing the club’s publicity man with him and I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad, but I was content to wait until tomorrow to find out what was going to be done.

There was a knock on the door and a head popped around.

‘Hi, still, like, awake?’

‘Yes, come in’

Claire was in her nightie and she padded over and sat on the bed.

‘How’s your mum?’ I asked.

‘Not bad; she like, gets tired easily but she looks a bit healthier now they have her meds sorted out. How are you?’

‘Not bad.’

‘But not good?’

‘I’m a bit worried. Some people from the club are coming over tomorrow and things have to be decided.’

‘Do you wish that you were still, like a boy?’

‘No, I’m happy as I am, it’s just…’

‘What?’

‘Well, I didn’t realise until now how much of a raw deal girls have. They don’t earn as much as men; they don’t often get the best jobs and worst of all, they are still treated in a lot of ways like a sub species to men.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean. I want to be a nuclear scientist and head my own huge company, but I’m just a girl.’

‘Don’t you need to be clever to do that?’

‘Are you saying I’m not clever?’

‘Erm…’

‘I’ll have you know, I have like, talent. Only the other day, Miss Merchant in home economics said that she was surprised at how high my cake rose.’

She looked at me and I looked at her, and in seconds we were in the middle of a giggle fest!

My eyes were streaming and Claire was rolling about on the floor when I heard a cough. Looking up with watering eyes, I could see Mummy looking at us with a quizzical look.

‘Girls, please can you keep the noise down: the twins are trying to sleep, and so is Jeff.’

We calmed down a bit. ‘Sorry, Mummy,’ I gasped.

‘Mmm. Right, Claire, off to bed; you’ve got school in the morning, oh, and have you done your homework?’

‘Erm–like, goodnight, all.’ With that she shot out of the room like a rat up a drainpipe.

Mummy came and sat on the bed. ‘It’s nice to see you a bit more cheerful.’

‘Yes, Claire’s funny and makes me laugh; she cheered me up lots.’

‘You okay about tomorrow?’

‘Sort of. I’m wondering what the manager’s going to say.’

‘Well, just remember, you can’t change what or who you are. If others have a problem, it’s their concern, not yours, so don’t worry. Now you’d better get some sleep. Goodnight, sweetie.’

‘’Night, Mum.’

I yawned and she kissed me on the cheek and settled me down.

The light was switched off and as I cuddled my rabbit and thinking that I’d have preferred to be cuddling Andrew or Andrea, I fell asleep.

---

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

---

 
Previously...

‘I’ll have you know, I have like, talent. Only the other day, Miss Merchant in home economics said that she was surprised at how high my cake rose.’

She looked at me and I looked at her, and in seconds we were in the middle of a giggle fest!

My eyes were streaming and Claire was rolling about on the floor when I heard a cough. Looking up with watering eyes, I could see Mummy looking at us with a quizzical look.

‘Girls, please can you keep the noise down: the twins are trying to sleep, and so is Jeff.’

We calmed down a bit. ‘Sorry, Mummy,.’ I gasped.

‘Mmm. Right, Claire, off to bed; you’ve got school in the morning, oh, and have you done your homework?’

‘Erm–like, goodnight, all.’ With that she shot out of the room like a rat up a drainpipe.

Mummy came and sat on the bed. ‘It’s nice to see you a bit more cheerful.’

‘Yes, Claire’s funny and makes me laugh; she cheered me up lots.’

‘You okay about tomorrow?’

‘Sort of. I’m wondering what the manager’s going to say.’

‘Well, just remember, you can’t change what or who you are. If others have a problem, it’s their concern, not yours, so don’t worry. Now you’d better get some sleep. Goodnight, sweetie.’

‘’Night, Mum.’

I yawned and she kissed me on the cheek and settled me down.

The light was switched off and as I cuddled my rabbit and thinking that I’d have preferred to be cuddling Andrew or Andrea, I fell asleep.

And now the story continues…

The next morning I awoke feeling a bit stiff and sore. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. After doing the necessary–which luckily, no longer stung–I took off my nightie and had a shower. As the water flowed down my body, I still thought it felt somewhat strange that I had breasts and no male bits dangling below. I hadn’t really felt around or touched very intimately any of new my girl bits. I don’t know why, but I felt a bit peculiar about it all. Things had moved so fast over this last month that I suppose I wasn’t yet totally in tune with my new female body.

Mummy said that we would be having a chat soon about my ‘new’ body and what it meant to me. That sounded a bit sinister but there was no use worrying about it!

After drying myself with a towel and hairdryer, I pulled the curtains back and looked out of the window. It was a dry, overcast day, typical for the winter. The only reason I liked the winter was because of the football. In the summer, I looked forward to wearing pretty dresses, skirts and tops. I know I can do that now, but only for indoors. A sun dress would not be appropriate to wear outside unless it was covered in layers of warmer clothing!

Anyway, this morning I was going for a walk around the grounds. It was still early and the others, liking their beds too much, wouldn’t be up so soon.

I quickly put on my bra, cami top and thick angora sweater. Then some thickish hold-up stockings–I couldn’t wear tights or jeans yet–too tender, and a long blue denim skirt. I had some calf length boots–‘borrowed’ from Mummy and then I was nearly done. I carefully applied a minimum of makeup, covering my sweater with a towel to stop any accidents. Then, after brushing my hair, I nodded at my reflection, not bad, considering.

I wonder if Mummy will take me to the salon? I thought, I need to have some serious work done on my hair and nails, now that I’m out as a real girl.

I smiled at that thought. No more hiding and trying to be something I’m not!

After a final look at myself, I put on my coat and made my way downstairs. I could here some noises from the kitchen and went in to see who was about.

‘Hi, Mummy!’

She looked up and smiled. She was eating cornflakes and had a steaming cup of something in front of her.

‘Hello, sweetie. You’re up early.’

‘I could say the same for you.’

‘The little ones are waking up earlier and earlier. I just wanted a quiet half hour before all hell breaks loose. How are you feeling?’

‘Not bad, still a bit sore. I thought that I would go for a walk in the grounds. I need to get fit again quickly.’

‘Well, don’t overdo it. You’re still recovering and we don’t want you to have any complications, do we?

‘Yes, Mummy–I mean no, Mummy.’

‘Don’t say “yes, Mummy–no, Mummy,” me like that. I’m only thinking of you.’

I went over and gave her a hug. ‘Sorry, Mummy, I know that you care.’

‘Okay; well, just listen to me. What time is Mr. McPherson coming?’

‘About ten,’

‘Are you worried?’

‘A wee bit. I don’t know what’s going to happen. It’s not knowing that’s so hard. Once a decision has been made, I can get on with things. Now, I just don’t know if I’m coming or going.’

‘Well you’ll know soon enough, love.’

‘I had better go. See you later.’

‘Okay, don’t be too long though and don’t strain yourself.’

‘I won’t.’ I kissed her on the cheek and left through the kitchen door.

It was quite cold outside and I shivered slightly as the cold wind hit my face–and other parts. As I strolled along the gravel path beside of the house, I thought about what Mummy said. I was worried about the outcome of my meeting with Mr. McPherson. I wondered how he would react to seeing me in girls’ clothes. I had made my mind up last night that I would wear a pretty dress and make an effort with my hair and makeup. I didn’t want any mistakes in identity–I was a girl and proud of it!

That made me think of Mum–my natural mum. I wondered if she was up there looking down at me and if she would approve of what I was doing. I know she was proud of me and that she knew I was a girl inside, but as far as she was concerned, she had given birth to a boy and knew nothing of the problems with my gender. Looking back–even in the darkest times when my father beat us–I still think that she realised that I wasn’t really a normal boy.

I looked up at the old oak tree over in the corner of the grounds. It was huge and the gardener said that it was hundreds of years old and had a preservation order on it. Suddenly, the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine hit it. It was as if a searchlight had been switched on. I could see every detail of the tree, down to the smallest twig. I smiled: as far as I was concerned it was a sign. My mum had heard and this was her way of showing me her approval. You might say it was a coincidence, but I don’t think so. I waited until the clouds covered the sun again and then I continued my walk–with a warm feeling in my tummy.

After another twenty minutes, I was getting tired and a bit sore, so I headed back inside.

When I arrived back indoors, it was as if I had entered a madhouse: Claire and Andrew were getting in each other’s way, making toast, Mummy was feeding the twins and Daddy was trying to drink a cup of coffee and read the newspaper–how he even tried to do that with all the noise, I would never know.

I went up to my room, took off my coat and struggled with my boots. Eventually I got them off without too many swear words. Being somewhat hot after my efforts and the fact that the central heating made me feel that was more like the Sahara Desert or Death Valley temperature-wise rather than a house, I decided to remove my rather thick sweater before becoming par boiled.

All this activity made my hair look like something out of the Rocky Horror Show, so I spent precious minutes brushing it into something resembling á¼ber-cool. I just had to get Mummy to take me to the salon. Claire should go too, as her hair has spit ends and looks like a thatch sometimes–Meooow!

Finally, when I arrived downstairs, things had quietened down somewhat. Claire and Andrew were disappearing out of the door with Daddy closely behind, a piece of toast in mouth and a hangdog expression clear on his face as another taxi job was about to commence.

Mummy was hosing down the kids; the stewed whatever-it-was being as much on the outside of the little darlings as inside their tummies.

I perched on a stool and grabbed the cornflakes, trying not to look too much at the icky goings on over by the sink.

Daddy had left the newspaper on the table and I picked it up and naturally turned immediately to the sports pages.

I just had to be on the back page, didn’t I?

WHAT IS WRONG WITH MARK HURST?

Is his career over just after it started?

Concerns have been raised over the health of Melchester’s wunderkind, Mark Hurst. Just six weeks short of his sixteenth birthday, he had a horrific injury on the playing field in the game against Cranley United that left observers wondering if he will ever be able to play again. It was estimated that the ball hit Mark at least 90 miles an hour. Because of his age and confidentiality issues, we were unable to ascertain the exact nature of his injuries, but as millions of men saw the slow-mo replays on Match Of The Day, and most–including my self–crossed our legs and felt a bit sick at the sight of such a shocking injury.

Mark Hurst, burst on the scene just a short while ago. He is one of the finest prospects of his generation and the England Manager, Olaf Johannsen, has already earmarked him for the under 21 team and shortly after that he was expected to feature in the squad for the world cup.

Attendances have soared at home matches since he became part of the team and even away from home; people have flocked to see the wonderful skills of this very young player.

Sources close to the club have said, in confidence, that there are concerns for the long term health of “Markie” as many of his devoted fans call him.

We asked Malcolm McFrazier, former Scottish international and TV pundit about Mark’s prospects.

‘He is a player who has a very positive influence on other players and the team as a whole. He has the ability and skill to lift all the other players around him. It’s not just the wonder goals, it’s the all round play that makes Mark such a gifted player. His passing skills and the way he reads the game, puts him in the class of Lepe. He is willing to help the defence and be a midfield dynamite. The fact that he is only 15 makes him almost unique in football. He plays like veteran of 30. What sort of player will he be in few years time? Who knows. If he gets over his present injury and stays healthy, I can see him being one of the top players not only in the UK but worldwide.’

Only time will tell if he makes a full recovery from his injuries and we will keep you up to date with developments as and when they arise.

I put the paper down with disgust.

‘What crap.’

Mummy looked up from drying the twins.

‘Susan, please don’t talk like that and certainly not in front of the twins!’

‘Sorry, Mummy, it’s just they talk such rubbish in the papers sometimes.’

‘Tell me something new. I suppose it’s about you?’

‘Yes, they think that I’m the best thing since sliced bread. Wunderkind and all that rubbish!’

‘Well you are good–special even, otherwise, why do you think everyone is so enthusiastic about you.

‘I’m just someone with a bit of skill and lucky enough to score a few fluke goals.’

‘It’s that bit of skill and so called fluke goals that make you special. Don’t keep putting yourself down like that, Susan. Accept that you have a gift and make the most of it. If you don’t, you will regret it when you are too old to play.’

‘Yes, Mummy,’ I sighed.

I finished my breakfast, then went upstairs to change. I had delayed changing until after breakfast because I didn’t want any accidents on the dress I intended to wear. What with the twins and their Exocet accuracy at throwing things around and my nervousness, I was not prepared to take any chances.

The dress was aubergine in colour and was made by Jenny Dyer of London. Mummy saw it in the sales and bought it for me. When I first saw it, I didn’t think that it would suit me, but when I tried it on, I could see that it was just perfect. It reached just above the knee in what is called Grecian style. It was a silk mix jersey dress with smocked, elasticated empire line. It fitted me like a glove and showed my shape to perfection, including my bust line.

If there was anything to show Mr. McPherson that I was now all girl, this would!

I was just in my bra and panties, when I put on my face. I chose slightly heavier makeup than usual, I suppose because I wanted to emphasise my girlishness. After the foundation, I added a bit of colour to my rather washed out face by some carefully applied blusher. Then I turned my attention to my eyes, and because I wanted to make them look bigger and more doe-eyed I paid them a lot of attention. Two tones of eye shadow and careful use of mascara helped give me the effect I wanted. Once I was satisfied, I used lip liner to make my lips look slightly bigger than usual and filled them in first with some pink Max Factor lipstick and then finally some high sheen gloss.

I nodded at my reflection once I had finished. I was rather proud of my efforts, but looking at the clock, I knew that time was running out!

I slipped on some nude hold-up stockings and shivered slightly as I ran them up my freshly-shaved legs. I didn’t have much hair on my legs, but removing the few that I had, made such a difference to the sensations I felt.

Stepping into my dress and I pulled it up–wiggling my bottom–as I did so. I swear that my bum was getting bigger, making me smile because, “happiness is a well shaped bottom,” in my book!

I sat on the bed and slipped on my shoes. They were black, court style with a fairly low heel, because the last thing I wanted was to break my legs coming down the stairs!

After teasing and brushing my hair until it shone, I inserted my tiny diamond earrings in my ears and then put the small gold cross and chain, that used to be my mum’s, around my neck. I also wore my mum’s lovely gold watch on my wrist. Looking at it and feeling the cross and chain next to my skin, made me feel like she was with me now, at a time where I would need as much help as I could get.

I heard the front door bell and my heart missed a beat. Stepping back, I gave myself a critical look in the full length mirror. I saw was a rather pretty girl, slightly older than my age, just ready to go and party. I smiled at my reflection and hoped I hadn’t overdone it. But there was no time for regrets as I had to go downstairs and meet the boss who, until a short time ago, thought that his up-and-coming new star was a boy.

There was a knock on the door. ‘Come in,’ I called.

Mummy entered and after raising her eyebrows said, ‘Taking no prisoners today, then, sweetie?’

‘I—I thought he should see the real me. I didn’t want him to think I was just a boy in a dress.’

‘There is no way he’s going to see anything other than a very pretty young girl. He’s downstairs now with your father and the publicity man. Are you ready?’

‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

‘Come on, then.’

She went out again and after I had one final look at my reflection and removed a tiny spec from my dress, I followed her downstairs and into the sitting room. My heart was beating nineteen to the dozen and I nearly turned around there and then, but I just took a deep breath and walked in.

Daddy was looking at his laptop with Mr. McPherson and the other man who I hadn’t met yet. Over in the corner was John Prentiss reading a letter or something. He looked up and smiled at me as soon as he saw me.

‘Susan! You look lovely!’

‘Thanks,’ I said quietly as the others turned around and looked at me.

I could hear audible gasps, but as I was staring at the rather interesting pattern on the carpet, I didn’t see their expressions.

‘Bloody hell,’ exclaimed Mr. McPherson.

I winced at that; I did look silly then? I thought…

He came over to me and with a finger on my chin, lifted my face so that I was looking into his.

‘Susan then, is it?’

I nodded.

‘Mmm, ye’re much prettier than I thought ye’d be, lassie. What I did think was that ye might look like a wee boy wearin’ a dress, but that’s a lang way frae the truth. Ye could’a knock’d me doon wi’ a feather, seeing ye.’

He looked over at the other man.

‘What d’ye think, Trevor. Och sorry, lass, this is Trevor Withers, publicity director.’

‘Hello.’ I said quietly at the thin grey-haired man in a suit. He had a pleasant smile and didn’t look too shocked at the wunderkind wearing a dress.

‘Hi, Susan. We haven’t met but would have anyway at some stage and now this has happened, we need to talk about the ramifications. Oh and Sandy, in answer to your question, I think we have a problem.’

John Prentiss walked over and said, ‘Look, let’s all sit down and have a chat. Susan, d’you want your mother in on this too?’

I looked across to Daddy who nodded slightly.

‘Yes, please.’

‘Could you go and get her then and we’ll get some seats organised.’

I left the room, breathing easier than when I entered. At least they had seen the real me now and no one had screamed horrifically at the sight!

Mummy was talking to Mrs Moon in the kitchen.

‘Hello, Mrs M.’ I said, ‘Mummy, could you come through to the sitting room?’

‘Okay, dear, won’t be a minute.’

I went back and saw that some chairs had been arranged around in a circle. I sat in one, making sure to smooth my dress under me as I sat down.

‘Mummy won’t be a minute.’

Mr McPherson looked at me and shook his head.

‘I cannae get o’er ye, lassie. Ye still look like Mark, but only as much as a twin sister would look. How are ye aches and pains?’

‘Better thanks. I should be able to start training soon.’

‘Hmm, that’s what we need tae talk aboot…’

Just then Mummy came in with Mrs Moon. They were carrying trays with teas and coffees. I had a coke–of course.

‘Here we are,’ she said.

After we all had our drinks and Mrs M had left to go and see to the children, we got down to business. John Prentiss more or less chaired the meeting as he had arranged it.

‘Right, everyone. We can all see the problem facing us. Mark was a player who was destined to go to the top. Now, it turns out that Mark is in fact Susan, a fully functioning girl and if I may say so, a very pretty one. I have spoken to Susan, Jeff and Josie here and they have decided that we can’t just pretend that Susan is Mark. It’s cards-on-the-table time and we have to face facts that there would be problems for Susan if she attempts to pursue a career in the premier league.’

He stopped for a moment to take a drink of his some tea.

‘I have talked to a few people at league level on the quiet and, naming no names; I was told that this type of problem has only risen once before. It’s slightly different, but a teenager who happened to be a genetic male, but transgendered, wanted to play in women’s football. The case went all the way up to FIFA and it was decided that she could not play in women’s football because of the fact that she was deemed physically stronger than a naturally born women and therefore might put them at a disadvantage––’

‘That’s ridiculous.’ I interrupted, ‘there are strong men and boys and weak ones playing football and the same with girls’ teams, this isn’t like a being in a race!’

John looked at me and smiled, ‘I agree with you. Don’t shoot the messenger.’

‘Sorry,’ I said, feeling a bit ashamed at my outburst.

‘That’s all right. Anyway, you happen to be intersexed which is slightly different. Jeff and I have looked into this and I believe, Jeff, you have spoken to some lawyers?’

I looked at Daddy. He hadn’t told me about this.

Daddy opened a file on his lap and pulled out some papers.

‘Yes, sorry about not saying anything to you, Susan. You’ve had enough on your plate of late and I wanted you to concentrate on getting better. I know Melchester have spoken to their legal team already on this and I’ve also taken counsel’s opinion from a barrister in chambers. The general consensus is that Susan’s position is unique. The reason why there is such a fuss about gender and sport is because of possible unfair advantage. For example, in athletics, if a transgendered or intersexed runner who is predominantly male runs in a women’s race, it would be deemed unfair to the other–genetic female–competitors: stronger physique and all that. But the other way around, there would not be any unfair advantage as it would be assumed that the person in question would be physically weaker than the opposition. Is all that clear?’

We all nodded.

‘Team sports are slightly different, as Susan has pointed out; this isn’t a race we are talking about. But as there is no precedence for this situation, the barrister says that we should go ahead and do what we wish and if necessary test the case in court, if it ever came to it. Susan could stay and play with the team as she has no advantage over the male players, in fact it may be deemed the other way around.’

‘So the lass can still pay for us?’ said Sandy–oops I mean Mr. McPherson.

‘Yes, that’s counsel’s opinion, but we have other problems and I think Trevor wants to talk about that.’

‘Yes,’ said Trevor, ‘though, purely in business terms this would do the club and football in general a great deal of good. Susan has said that she does not want to hide the fact that she is a girl. Is that right Susan?’

‘Yes; I’m fed up with hiding who I am.’

‘Right, so we have to come out in the open and tell the world that because of a small birth defect that was not recognised at the time, Mark has always been, de facto, a genetic girl. We can arrange interviews with some of our tame newspapers, TV and radio stations and we can sell up the fact that Susan here is going to be a girl who can match and beat men at their own game. For too long in this country, women’s football has been considered not as important as men’s. Many women play and the sport is growing. The level of expertise has come on in leaps and bounds over the last ten years. But, sponsorship is hard to get and air time on TV is pitiful. Susan could be the means to open the women’s game up to a wider audience and make it mainstream.’

‘Our ladies’ team are great. I just wish that more people would go and watch ’em,’ Mr. McPherson said strongly.

‘Exactly; but there is a downside, Susan.’ Trevor looked at me and smiled. ‘The downside is that you would become one of the most recognised people in the country–even more than you are already. You’d be hounded by the press and other media and there are bound to be crackpots out there who’ll think that you shouldn’t be playing football, full stop. You will have to try to protect your privacy somehow. This house is good for that as it has walls and fences all round and the house is not visible from the road. Your age is in your favour because the media have to be very careful how they behave while you’re a minor. I can’t say the same for the paparazzi though. Another thing, just as important is how your team mates treat you.’

‘With respect or they are out,’ growled Mr Mac.

I smiled at that, knowing that the lads would rather walk on glass than experience the wrath of our volatile Scots manager.

‘Also,’ continued Trevor, ‘we don’t know how apposing players and supporters will treat you. It could be okay, but there are always mindless thugs, on and off the field and you have to be prepared for some nasty things happening. Well that’s it.’

‘Thanks, Trevor,’ said John, ‘any more thoughts?’

‘Does anyone know if I would be allowed to play in the England ladies team if I was playing full time in a men’s team?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Trevor replied. ‘Someone would have to look into that. Personally I don’t see why not, but there might be objections from FIFA, we just don’t know. It’s a unique case.’

Daddy looked at me and smiled encouragingly.

‘The only other thing is that if Susan doesn’t want to go through with playing for the men’s team, she should be able to play for the ladies as she is a fully functioning genetic girl. Also if FIFA or the FA don’t give her a choice and decide that she can’t play for the men’s team or try to cover her in red tape, they can’t argue against her playing for Melchester Women.’

‘True. Susan, whatever is decided, you have a future in football,’ said John, ‘and you don’t have to worry about making ends meet. I am sure that we can do some sponsorship deals, books, magazines, articles and interviews and that will leave you with a tidy sum.’

Mummy coughed and we all looked at her.

‘I don’t really want my daughter to become part of a media circus unless she is happy to do so. Susan, what do you think? Everyone has had their say and you know the plusses and minuses. The decision is yours and yours alone. Do you want to have a think about it?’

‘Can you give me a few minutes; I’ll be up in my room. I won’t be long?’

‘Okay, honey, there’s no rush’

I smiled around at the faces and then got up quietly and went upstairs. I closed the door of my room and went and sat on the bed.

I had heard a lot about what I could and could not do and, to be honest, I was scared of making a decision like this. I wondered what my mum would do and then realised that she was never strong at making decisions–that’s why she stayed with my stepfather so long. I gazed at her framed photo standing on my bedside table. I missed her so much still and yet I had to move on and make my own decisions in life. I thought about at the alternatives: I could try my best to carry on being a professional footballer in a male environment, or alternatively I could try my luck in the women’s team, or I suppose I could turn my back on all of this and go back to playing football in the park. I smiled ruefully, realising that I was beyond park football now and things would never be the same for me again, now I was ‘known’.

I stood up and stared out of the window. The day was still rather damp and grim. Fleetingly I thought of just packing up quietly and leaving, but I could never do that–I loved my family and friends too much. I went over to my chest of drawers and took out a lacy hanky. As I blew my nose, my eyes fell on the large photo of me just after scoring a goal for Melchester at Manethorpe. I had my hands in the air and I was being mobbed by my team mates. The joy on my face was something else. I smiled at the photo and just nodded.

As I rejoined them downstairs, they were just quietly talking. They looked up. I took a deep breath and said it;

‘When can I start training again, boss?’

---

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

---

 
Previously...

I had heard a lot about what I could and could not do and, to be honest, I was scared of making a decision like this. I wondered what my mum would do and then realised that she was never strong at making decisions–that’s why she stayed with my stepfather so long. I gazed at her framed photo standing on my bedside table. I missed her so much still and yet I had to move on and make my own decisions in life. I thought about at the alternatives: I could try my best to carry on being a professional footballer in a male environment, or alternatively I could try my luck in the women’s team, or I suppose I could turn my back on all of this and go back to playing football in the park. I smiled ruefully, realising that I was beyond park football now and things would never be the same for me again, now I was ‘known’.

I stood up and stared out of the window. The day was still rather damp and grim. Fleetingly I thought of just packing up quietly and leaving, but I could never do that–I loved my family and friends too much. I went over to my chest of drawers and took out a lacy hanky. As I blew my nose, my eyes fell on the large photo of me just after scoring a goal for Melchester at Manethorpe. I had my hands in the air and I was being mobbed by my team mates. The joy on my face was something else. I smiled at the photo and just nodded.

As I rejoined them downstairs, they were just quietly talking. They looked up. I took a deep breath and said it;

‘When can I start training again, boss?’

And now the story continues…

The following weeks were interesting to say the least. Now that I had made the decision to try and stay as a pro player with Melchester, I felt much better. Right or wrong, I had decided on the future I wanted for myself. Whether the authorities agreed with me was another matter for which I would just have to wait.

Every day, I was getting stronger and was pleased that I didn’t have to take any pills for me to transform into a girl, I was a girl and that was a fact.

Daddy was away frequently, trying to sort out my future. John Prentiss and Trevor Withers, plotted and planned about the best way to ‘out’ me without my getting hurt. Mummy was always there, supporting me and helping me with the personal issues raised by my new founded physical femininity.

The club wasn’t doing too badly without me–two wins and a draw. We were climbing up the table again and with luck, we would qualify for the Champions League at the end of the season. The lads at the club sent me a card, signed by all the players and a lot of the backroom staff too. They hadn’t been made aware of my situation yet as it was all on a need to know basis.

Andrew and I went from strength to strength and although we didn’t do anything stupid–I couldn’t in my current situation anyway–we got closer and closer. Claire, being Claire didn’t change much. She was still going out with John, but I had a feeling that John wanted to go places with her where she just didn’t want to go.

It was on a Wednesday that Mummy asked if we could have a chat. She had just been with Andrew and Claire to visit their mum. My friends seemed rather down in the dumps when they came back, but that wasn’t unusual because I knew that they were missing her a great deal.

On their return, Mummy and I went into the sitting room and sat down. ‘Susan, we’ve just had a bit of bad news,’ she told me

‘What?’ I asked, fearing the worst.

‘It’s okay, she’s not dying or anything, it’s just that the doctors don’t feel that she is going to get much better any time soon.’

‘Oh, that’s a pity. I’m sorry.’

‘Yes. A problem has arisen because she’s been in hospital so long and her savings have nearly all gone, paying the mortgage. She may not be able to return to work, in the short term anyway. So she has a problem. She needs to sell the house and then when things get better and, hopefully, she gets a job again, she can buy another property.’

‘Oh, that’s depressing. When will she be leaving hospital?’

‘Quite soon now, in fact if things can be arranged, possibly tomorrow.’

‘What if I paid the mortgage for her, till she’s better?’

‘Oh, honey, that’s sweet of you, but I have known for a while that Monica has wanted to move. There is too much sad history in the house–what with losing her husband and everything. She’s almost in negative equity, which means the mortgage is worth about the same as the house. She wanted to unload it so she could start afresh. Just paying off her mortgage for her would only put off the inevitable. If she loved the house, it would be different, but she doesn’t. No, what she needs is a solution that takes at least that worry away from her.’

‘Can she come here to live–that is if she wants to? We’ve loads of space and lots of rooms that aren’t being used and, after all, Andrew and Claire are here already.’

Mummy looked at me and then came over and gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek and a big hug.

‘What’s that for.’ I asked.

She let me go and then sat down beside me, holding my hand.

‘For being such a sweet girl. When I went to see her, I wanted to say come and stay, but this is your place and you are paying the bills so I wasn’t going to ask without your permission.’

I stood up and went to the window. It wasn’t a very nice day out there with the wind and low clouds threatening to rain. Looking back, I could see that Mummy was wondering what I was thinking.

‘Mummy, this isn’t my house it’s our house. I don’t want to have to make decisions about this. You and Daddy look after me and I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I have been thinking about this a long time but didn’t know when I should mention it; now’s a good time.’

I went back over and sat down next to her and held her hand.

‘I am already very well off and could afford two homes like this without breaking the bank. John Prentiss has said that by early next year, if everything goes to plan, I will be very rich. What I’m saying is that I want to buy this house for you and Daddy and then I don’t have to make these decisions–’

‘You can’t do that!’ Mummy exclaimed, standing up. ‘We’d feel like we were taking advantage of you.’

I laughed, but it wasn’t a very happy laugh. ‘You taking advantage of me? I think it’s the other way round. I’ve been nothing but a bother to you ever since I came into your lives. You’ve had to take me on board, move house, change jobs–all sorts of upheavals–all for me. I just want to give you this in return.’

‘Its too much, anyway, we love you so much, you know that. We’ve always thought of you as a sort of surrogate child of ours and we were so pleased that you agreed that we should adopt you.’

‘Mummy, please let me buy this house for you. It would make me the happiest girl alive. I have all this money coming in and I want to spend some of it on the two people I love most in the world. Mum would want me to do this. Please, please don’t spoil my present to you.’

By now I was crying in her arms; I desperately wanted her to accept the gift for what it was, a sign of the love that I had for her, Daddy and the twins. What had started out as an idea to let Andrew and Claire’s mum come and stay, had turned into something much more – the need to give back and return some of the love that had washed over me since all this had started. Eventually we calmed down slightly. Being a girl can be so emotional sometimes.

‘All right, Susan, I’ll speak to your father about it. I know what he’s like–a bit proud and stubborn–but if that is what you really want, I’ll win him round–’

‘So you will have the place if I can buy it?’ I said happily.

‘We’ll see. It may not still be on the market.’

‘I’m sure it is. The owners only rented it out because they couldn’t find a buyer.’

‘Okay, if Jeff agrees, we’ll make enquiries, see how much they want for the place and then have a family conference to decide as a family what we want to do. Okay?’

‘Okay, Mummy.’

‘Right and what about the other thing.’

‘What?’

‘Monica; Andrew and Claire’s mum?’

‘You decide, but I think it’s cool.’

Well, after much to-ing and fro-ing, Mummy and Daddy agreed to my plan. Daddy had been a tough nut to crack, going on about not taking advantage of a defenceless child and that gold digging wasn’t in his nature, but after I turned on the water works, he became putty in my hands. I was discovering that being a girl can be a powerful weapon and hoped I would use my powers wisely. The way Mummy was looking at me after my little performance, I could tell that she could see right through me!

I went with Mummy, Andrew and Claire to see Monica the next day. Mummy and I had agreed not to say anything to my friends until we talked things over with Monica. When we got to her hospital room, she was sitting in a chair, covered in a blanket and reading a book. I hadn’t seen her for a while and was a bit shocked by her apparent state; she was thinner, looked decidedly frail and as white as a sheet.

Monica looked up as we all trooped in. ‘Hello,’ she smiled weakly, ‘coach parties are not allowed.’ How she could joke when she was like this, I would never know!

We all found chairs and after a lot of scraping around, we sat down. I won’t bore you with the conversation, it was the usual stuff about how are you, what’s been happening and Monica wanted to know what was happening in the outside world.

About twenty minutes later, Mummy and I left Andrew and Claire with their mum while we went out for a drink. We found the caféteria and sat down at a table. Sucking my coke through a straw, I paused momentarily. ‘She’s not very well, is she?’

‘No: it’s not that she’s getting worse, she’s much the same, but the doctors think she’s worried about money and her kids and it’s stopping her getting better.’

‘So if she agrees to move in with us, she should get better, more quickly?’

‘That’s right. I think a change of scenery and being closer to her kids would work wonders.’

‘I really hope so.’

After finishing our drinks, we went back to Monica’s room. Andrew and Claire decided that they wanted a drink then, which was good as it gave Mummy and I an opportunity to talk to Monica in private.

After the kids had left, Mummy got right down to it. ‘Monica, you haven’t got over the problem with your house yet, have you?’

‘No, it’s worrying me, a lot.’

‘We have a cunning plan–’

Mummy explained our idea of her moving in with us.

‘But I can’t!’

‘Why not?’ I said, ‘Andrew and Claire are living with us already and we have tons of room. You’ll be nearer them and you won’t need to worry about money or your house.’

She shook her head. ‘I can’t take charity.’

Mummy looked at me. ‘Susan, can you give us a few minutes, love? Go and see if you can find Claire and Andrew then come back in a little while, okay?’

‘All right, Mummy.’

I gave Monica a little smile and scooted. I wasn’t into this heavy parent-type stuff and was relieved to escape.

I found Andrew and Claire feeding their faces in the caféteria.

‘Hi,’ I said sitting down next to Andrew and squeezing his thigh.

‘Hi, yourself,’ said Andrew, looking at me with a smile.

‘Yuk!’ said Claire, disgustedly, ‘can’t you like, control yourselves in public.’

I looked across to her and poked my tongue out.

‘What about you and John? I’ve never seen so much tonsil tickling till I saw you two at it!

‘I’ll have you know, that John and I are like, soul mates. He sees how wonderful I am and I like, don’t disagree with him.’

We all started giggling at that and were soon talking about the next Harry Potter film and whether the dastardly ‘He Who Must Not Be Named’ would get his comeuppance.

After a bit, we went back to Monica’s room. Mummy and Monica were laughing at something or other and it was good to see Monica cheerful again; it made her look younger and much healthier. I raised my eyebrows enquiringly at Mummy and she gave a slight nod. We all sat down again and Monica spoke to her children.

‘Kids, it’s been agreed that I shall be moving in with Josie and her family tomorrow as soon as I’m discharged. We’ll all be together and it’ll give me time to sort out our finances. The house is going to be sold–you know I’ve wanted to move out for a while now–and living together again will help make me better sooner and Josie’s persuaded me that it’d be the best thing to do. What do you think?’

‘Wow, Mum.’

‘Yeah, like, WOW!’

We chatted for a few more minutes regarding the arrangements and then, because she looked a bit tired, we left, promising to see her tomorrow.

The next few days were a bit of a whirl as Monica moved in and we had to get her settled. Andrew and Claire were so much happier having their mum at home again and Monica seemed to perk up considerably when her worries were taken away and she was near her children again.

On the football front things were moving on too. The powers that be at Melchester were due to meet with the Football Association and the Premier League to tell them about me on this very day! Also at the meeting would be Daddy, as my representative and John Prentiss. I was on tenter hooks and spent ages, wandering about in the garden, thinking about ‘what ifs’.

Things were improving all the time down in the plumbing department. It no longer hurt me to have a wee and I didn’t spray so much now that the swelling had finally gone down. It seemed strange not having a penis; I had lived all my life with one and sometimes it still felt like it was still there–weird, or what?

Last night was a bit strange as Mummy took me up to her bedroom, sat me on the bed and then started telling me all about the birds and the bees. I had to stop her after a minute as I explained that I was neither a bird nor a bee and anyway, we had covered it all at school in lessons and what we didn’t learn there, we found out in the school playground from the more promiscuous of our friends, some of whom, frankly were liars.

‘Be that as it may,’ Mummy said, ‘it’s a bit different for you. You started out with one set of equipment and now you have a different one. You’re very new to this and you don’t learn everything from school or your friends. You’re a girl and girls have to be careful where they go and with whom they get involved. Most rape victims are women and more women than men are the victims of abuse. I know you went through hell and back with that father of yours so you know from personal experience what it’s like, but don’t think that now he’s in hell, that there aren’t going to be others who would do you harm, given the chance.’

‘I’ll be careful, Mummy, I promise.’

She came and gave me a hug. ‘I know you will, honey, but now you’re famous, there will be crackpots and lunatics out there who’ll think that you are fair game for them. Look, I’ve spoken to Jeff and we both agree that we can’t be with you one hundred percent of the time and we want to make sure that you’re protected. You ought to have someone near you all the time to prevent your getting hurt or at least being hassled by people, fans and others who, as soon as they see you, will think they have a right to come up to you, say and maybe, God forbid, do things to you.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Oh, Susan, don’t be so thick, love. You’re pretty, famous and about to get a whole lot more famous. Your father and I want to give you protection–a bodyguard or security guard if you prefer.’

‘Like that man, erm, Kevin Costner, in that film?’

‘If you mean The Bodyguard–yes, I suppose so.’

‘Cor, will he be as sexy as him?’

‘Susan Hurst–are you being funny with me?’

‘–and will he have big biceps and sweep me off my feet and make mad passionate love to––’

‘SUSAN!’

I couldn’t keep it up and soon we were both laughing and rolling about on the bed in hysterics. I loved my mummy–she was just like a big sister sometimes.

So John Prentiss, who knew about this sort of thing, was to arrange security cover for me. I was assured that I could afford it, so I let other people worry about that sort of thing while I tried to concentrate on getting as fit as possible.

I was feeling quite strong. I did know that I wasn’t like someone who had sexual reassignment surgery and I would get better quite quickly as long as I didn’t get any stupid infection or anything. Next week, I was going back to the hospital for an examination and to check that the stitches had dissolved and hopefully I would then get the all clear to get down to some more serious training.

My mind returned to last night. After having my birds and bees chat with Mummy, I had gone to bed thinking a bit more about my body. Andrew and I had managed to find a quiet room earlier and were able to have a nice kiss and cuddle without the fear of being discovered. I know I shouldn’t feel guilty about being so close to my boyfriend and wanting to do things that girlfriends and boyfriends do, but we were at home and it’s embarrassing when round every corner there might be someone lurking and–well you know what I mean–it cramps your style a bit!

I smiled as I lay in bed and thought of Andrew and my hand sort of gravitated down to between my legs. I slipped my fingers into my panties and between the slit; I discovered it was very damp down there...

‘Oooh!’ I moaned as sparks started flying and it seemed like Guy Fawkes night all over again–

Afterwards, I just lay there, panting. I had never experienced anything quite like it. Talk about total body experience! I was all hot and sweaty. My nightie felt uncomfortable too so I got up, took my damp things off and went and had a cool shower. I wore a shower cap as I didn’t want to have to deal with my hair tonight.

After my shower and a change of nightie, I snuggled up in bed, relaxed then went to sleep.

*~*

As I continued my walk around the grounds the next day, I came across Mr Moon, cutting down some hedging.

‘Hello, Mr Moon.’

‘Hello, Miss, fine morning.’

‘Yes it is.’ I watched him for a few moments and as I knew that he was a man of few words and quite busy, I moved on after a quick goodbye to him. To be honest, apart from my anxiety about my future, I was bored. Andrew and Claire were at school, Mummy was looking after Poppy and Daisy and everyone else but me was busy.

I went down to the water’s edge and sat on the bench. There were a few ducks about but having no bread for them, they soon lost interest in me. I kept looking at my watch, wondering how the meeting was progressing.

Maybe a decision on my future had already been made. Would I be able to play again and if so would it be with men or women? It was so unfair in this day and age that segregation was still around. It shouldn’t matter what gender you were if you could do the job, gender shouldn’t even be an issue, full stop.

My phone trilled. Picking it up I saw that it was a text from Andrew.

‘Hi babes, how’s it hanging?’

I laughed at Andrew’s attempts at American gangster text-speak. I just giggled and replied, ‘It’s not hanging anymore, you moron!’

‘Luv wou,’

‘Luv wou too, you soppy date, now get back to double maths’

I put my phone back in my coat pocket and shivered slightly. It was cold out here. I looked forward to wearing jeans again. Skirts were nice but more than a bit draughty sometimes.

I stood up and made my way back to the house.

I went into the kitchen where Mrs Moon was doing things with pastry and there was a yummy smell coming from one of the worktops. I went over and lifted a tea towel to see some jam tarts sitting there begging to be eaten.

‘Mrs Moon, can I?’

‘Oh go on then, just one, don’t want to spoil your lunch, dear.’

I picked up the warm tart and went to see what was happening in the sitting room.

Monica was there with Mummy and the twins, who were playing quietly, for once in the lobster pot pen thingy.

Monica was looking a lot better and was reading the paper while Mummy was tapping away at her netbook.

Mummy looked up for a minute.

‘Hi honey, nice walk?’

‘Not bad, got a bit cold so I came inside. I took a bite of the tart and sat down next to her.

‘Any news about the meeting?’

‘As soon as I find out, you’ll be the first to know, Susan.’

I finished my tart and then got up. I was soooo bored.

I went up to my room, plugged myself into my iPod lay down on the bed and tried to lose myself in some Shakira…

I felt a gentle nudge on my shoulder, so I opened my eyes and yawned. Mummy was sitting on the bed looking amused. I took the ’phones out of my ears.

‘Hello, Mummy,’ I said, yawning again and rubbing my eyes.

‘Mrs Moon has been shouting up for five minutes. It’s lunch time.’

‘Oh, I must have nodded off.’

‘Mmm, for an hour.’

‘Any news?’

‘No, not yet. Come and have something to eat.’

‘Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.’

I went to the bathroom and then headed downstairs to the kitchen. Grabbing a sandwich and a coke from the fridge, I went into the sitting room where the others were. There were no signs of the “terrible twins”, so I assumed that they were in beddy-byes.

I sat by the window and looked out. Was this what it was like being an adult, just sitting about or doing boooooring things like reading papers and watching the television, like the others were doing?

I glanced at my watch–it was only five minutes since I last looked at it. Munching on my sandwich, my thoughts returned to last night and my first girlie orgasm. I wondered if it would always be like that and…

The phone rang, making me jump.

Mummy got up and answered it.

‘Hi love; what happened?’

I watched her, looking for signs about the result of the meeting. After a series of yeses, noes and mmm’s she looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

‘Okay, I’ll tell her. See you later then. Oh are arranging that security thing we talked about? Good, bye love.’

She put the phone down and walked over to me and sat down. Monica was fast asleep in a chair so Mummy kept her voice down. ‘They’ve had their meeting, honey. You can understand that a lot was done prior to that, to find out about the legal side of things. They had also had a word with the governing body, FIFA, and got their views on the matter. The FIFA committee met yesterday and passed their decision on to the FA and Premier League people. You know that if FIFA says no, it can cause problems even though they don’t involve themselves in the day to day running of domestic football?’

I just nodded, just wanting her to tell me about what I could or couldn’t do.

‘Okay, after thinking things over it’s been decided that you can stay and play for Melchester in the men’s team on a trial basis until the end of the season. If it doesn’t work out, you can, if you wish, join the women’s team. The matter will be reviewed at the end of the season. What do you think?’

‘So I can still play?’

‘That’s what I was saying.’

I stood up and rushed around the room as if I had scored a goal. Monica, almost leapt out of her chair and nearly expired on the spot. Mrs Moon came running in at the sound of my noise and Mummy tried to prise me off of the ceiling. I ran out of the sitting room, through the kitchen and out into the grounds. I shouted ‘YES!’ at the top of my voice and punched the air.

Time would tell if I would be a success or not. Players and supporters alike might accept or reject me. I would be the focus of much attention from media and public alike and I was sure that things would not run smoothly but there was one fact that made me smile and laugh with delight…

…Susan Hurst was going to be a premier league footballer–officially!

---

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.

---

 
Previously...

‘Okay, after thinking things over it’s been decided that you can stay and play for Melchester in the men’s team on a trial basis until the end of the season. If it doesn’t work out, you can, if you wish, join the women’s team. The matter will be reviewed at the end of the season. What do you think?’

‘So I can still play?’

‘That’s what I was saying.’

I stood up and rushed around the room as if I had scored a goal. Monica, almost leapt out of her chair and nearly expired on the spot. Mrs Moon came running in at the sound of my noise and Mummy tried to prise me off of the ceiling. I ran out of the sitting room, through the kitchen and out into the grounds. I shouted ‘YES!’ at the top of my voice and punched the air.

Time would tell if I would be a success or not. Players and supporters alike might accept or reject me. I would be the focus of much attention from media and public alike and I was sure that things would not run smoothly but there was one fact that made me smile and laugh with delight…

…Susan Hurst was going to be a premier league footballer–officially!

And now the story continues…

As I went for my morning run down by the river, I thought a bit about what had been going on in my hectic life lately.

I had found from experience that my head was always clearer when I was running by myself. The fact that I was no longer on my own, cramped my style a bit. But Danielle–call me Danni–my newly employed bodyguard-cum-security consultant kept a discrete distance from me, about twenty yards behind, so I was effectively alone with my thoughts. I was a bit jealous of her and also slightly miffed. I was jealous, because she was drop dead gorgeous, had a black belt in everything including origami, could outrun me easily, hell I was breathing like a heavy breather getting his kicks on the phone and she didn’t seem to be breathing at all. I was miffed because I had had fantasies about a Kevin Costner look-alike (before he got really old) being my bodyguard and holding me in his strong, manly arms while I swooned prettily and batted my long eyelashes at him–sigh. I hadn’t told Andrew about this as I didn’t think that he would appreciate it and anyway, a girl must have her fantasies.

Anyway back to my running thoughts. I was getting quite fit now. My girlie bits were working okay even if my burgeoning breasts wobbled a bit too much–note to self, get better sports bras that actually works properly. Luckily, my scars down below had healed quite nicely. I grimaced at remembering my first rather intrusive gynaecological examination a few days before–talk about yuk!

My thoughts turned to happier things. The club was going full steam ahead with the ‘outing’ of me, but in the mean time, everyone in the know was sworn to secrecy on the pain of death, dismemberment or even worse, the wrath of Mr McPherson. Talking of which, I thought that he was a bit of a sweetie but I wouldn’t dare tell him so that his face!

I crossed the little bridge that led to the other side of the river. It was about two miles from home now and I put a bit of a spurt on to see if I could put more distance between Danni–as she liked to be called–and myself. Some hope, because after a bit of heavy running, I looked behind me and there was my shadow, smiling gently and not even breathing heavily. I had a passing thought that she might be related to Paula Radcliffe.

Anyway, back to what was happening to me. Andrew says that my mind drifts off at tangents, just like a girl. I don’t know what he’s talking about but I saw this fab skirt in Next the other day, it was black and short–anyway, as I say, things were moving along quite nicely at the club. My heart sort of missed a beat at the thought of what was going to happen tomorrow. Interviews had been set up with The Daily Telegraph, BBC, ITV, Sky and local Melchester Radio stations right after a press conference at the club. Tentative interviews had also been made with Vogue Magazine and another one, a young girls’ mag called Bubblegum–weird name but there you go.

It must have been hard to get all these things arranged without telling them all about little me–but it appears that Mark Hurst was still the flavour of the month and the fact that it was going to be Susan and not Mark doing the interviews hadn’t been mentioned. So, today being the final day that Susan had anonymity, I wanted to make the most of it.

Speculation had been rife in the media that I wasn’t going to be able to play again because of my injuries. The fan club website and Facebook pages were all full of it. It was nice that people cared enough, but it was all a bit strange and a bit disquieting. I had rung my auntie up in Scotland last night and explained all what was going to happen. She had kept in touch with me and we had often talked about things and in particular my change of status from Mark to Susan.

‘Don’t worry about things,’ she said in a voice that sounded so like my mum, ‘you are great person and a wonderful footballer. You have the support of lots of people including me and I want you to know that I am absolutely certain that your mum is looking down on you, proud to see how well you have done.’

‘Awww, Auntie!’ I said, filling up.

Before long I was in view of the grounds of our house–or should I say Mummy and Daddy’s house. They had finally agreed with me that they should take it on and the legal stuff was being finalised soon.

Danni caught up with me as we got nearer the gates. ‘You’re getting quite fit now,’ she said without showing even the slightest signs of Knackerisation; could it be that she was some sort of clone or automaton?

I on the other hand was feeling more than a little cream crackered and could just nod. I was pleased though. I was getting much fitter now. Altogether I was happier, more contented and satisfied with my body.

It was still strange not feeling certain things between my legs as I ran. It would, I think, take a bit of getting used to. I had carried on my experiments in bed–purely scientific, of course–with my new or rather newly uncovered equipment and every time I played with myself, I hit new heights of ecstasy.

I suppose that it was my rampant hormones playing mind games, but I had this continued thing about Andrew being inside of me. I knew that we were sensible and everything and that we wanted to save ourselves–very grown up that, but very frustrating all the same. As Mummy had said to me in one of those girlie talks about the birds and the bees, I had the equipment to have babies and did I really want to be a teenage mum? The answer was ‘no way,’ of course and anyway, I wanted to enjoy being a girl before I had to become a fully paid up member of the woman club.

Using the keypad, Danni opened the gates and we jogged in and up the drive to the house. After a few minutes warming down we let ourselves into the house via the kitchen. Mrs Moon was there doing her bread making thing and my mouth watered at the smell.

‘Hi, Mrs M.’

‘Hello, dear,’ she said looking up from kneading some dough. ‘Now go and have a shower. I don’t want you dripping all over my clean kitchen. You too, Danni, although you’re not sweating much, I see.’

‘I could get to hate Danni.’ I thought as I waved goodbye and went upstairs to my room.

In the distance I could hear the cries of the babies as they woke up and expected changing and feeding now! No–I didn’t want any babies yet, though they are cute and everything.

I stripped my running things off and headed for the shower. As the warm water coursed down my body, I was very aware of the fact that I was all girl now. My skin was softer and more sensitive and my nipples had become more responsive and somewhat distracting. The shower jets had caused them to stand to attention and it was all I could do to keep my hands off them–I imagined Andrew playing with them... sighing, I turned the heat down, needing to cool my ardour somewhat. The doctor said that now my boy bits had been removed, I would start feeling a bit strange at times. My sex drive was driving me crazy and I was experiencing mood swings too. Sometimes I was deliriously happy, at other times very emotional. As Mummy said, I must get used to my body and accept that girls were wired differently to boys. The fact that I had in the past, bits of both was a bit of a complication and might take a while to get over. ‘Complications’, that was a joke.

After my shower, I put on some jeans–I could wear them now that my aches and pains had disappeared–and a cream cami top. They didn’t go very well with my fluffy pink slippers, but I wasn’t going anywhere. I brushed my hair out and put it into a ponytail. My hair was getting nice and long now and I promised myself a trip to the salon soon.

Clair and Andrew were at school today, but had arranged time off to be with me tomorrow at the club–I think that I would need all the support that I could get! The twins would be looked after by Mrs Moon, so Mummy could come with us as well. So all of my family and friends would be there for me which gave me a warm feeling in my tummy.

By the time I went down to have some breakfast, everyone else had disappeared so I had the kitchen to myself. After some cornflakes, toast and a cup of tea, I went into the sitting room. The twins were in their lobsterpot and Mummy was sitting on the sofa, reading the newspaper. Monica must have been in her room, resting–she still did a lot of that–but was evidently feeling a lot better and looked ten years younger since she came here.

‘Hi, sweetie, feel better now.’

‘Mmm, nice and clean. Where’s Daddy?’

‘In his office finalising tomorrow’s programme over the phone with John Prentiss.’

‘Oh,’ I said sitting down on an armchair and tucking my legs under me.

‘Are you okay, Susan?’

‘Mmm.’

‘What’s wrong love, worried about tomorrow?’

‘Sort of; nothing is going to be the same for me after tomorrow.’

‘I know honey, but you knew that when you decided to out yourself.’

I got up and sat down by Mummy. She gave me a big hug and for some reason I began to cry–damned hormones!

She stroked my hair and made soothing noises and after a little while the waterworks dried up. ‘Feeling better?’ she asked.

‘Yes, thanks.’ I sniffed.

‘What are you going to wear tomorrow?’

I sat up suddenly.

‘Oh God I’ve got nothing to wear!’

‘Now, don’t go off on one. The last time I had a look in your wardrobes, you had more clothes in there than a medium sized shop. I’m sure that we can find something for you to wear that won’t disgrace all the family––’

‘–And then there’s my hair and makeup. I don’t want to look a dork or a sub-normal Neanderthal or anything–’

‘Susan–’

‘–My nails look ropey too. I must stop biting my nails––’

‘SUSAN!’

‘Eh, what? Oh sorry, Mummy, did you say something?’

She sighed, and then shook her head. ‘Look, Sue, I know that you are a blonde and blondes are supposed to be air heads––’

‘–You’re blonde too–’

‘Well, nobody’s perfect. Anyway I like my blond hair and it came out of a bottle. Look, you’re getting away from the point. Please pay attention while I’m nagging you.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Right, listen very carefully; I shall say this only once. You have plenty of clothes so you don’t have to go on a feeding frenzy of clothes buying. Later on tonight, we’ll go up to your room and chose something suitable to wear. No doubt you will drag Claire in with you for a second opinion as according to her and you, I am old and have no fashion sense––’

‘–Mummy, I never said that–’

‘–Don’t interrupt when I'm in full flow, dear. I have a couple of ladies coming early tomorrow so that your, hair, nails and makeup can be sorted out. You will look pretty and no one will mistake you for anything resembling a boy.’

‘Oooh, you are nice!’ I exclaimed giving her a mega-hug.

‘Mmm, I am, aren’t I?’

Before bedtime, I went to look for Danni. I found her in the indoor swimming pool doing her usual thousand or whatever lengths. I fancied a swim, but between you, me and the bed post, I can’t swim–unless you count going straight down to the bottom-type swimming, that is. She must have seen me or something, because she finished the length that she was on and then swum effortlessly towards me. Once again, she didn’t seem very tired and wondered if she was related to Super Girl or at least Wonder Woman.

‘Hi, Sue,’ she said, far too brightly for my liking. ‘Why don’t you come in for a dip?’

‘Erm, not now: lots to do tomorrow; need to catch up on my beauty sleep. Erm, I was going for a run tomorrow like uber-early–about six.’

‘That’s all right. I’m an early bird anyway. I’ll tell Charlotte.’

‘Charlotte? Oh yes, sorry, I forgot about her.’

Charlotte was Danni’s colleague; I hadn’t met her yet, she was starting tomorrow just before the excrement hit the ventilator and would be sharing looking after me with Danni. They would both be living in so the place was starting to resemble a small village with the number people living here!

I said goodnight and left her to swim the second thousand lengths, no doubt under water, and made my way upstairs. I met Andrew at the top and he motioned me to the end of the corridor, up the stairs and into the room we called our ‘smooching room’. In no time we were sitting on the old sofa there and getting up close and personal with one another. Why we still felt guilty about doing this clandestinely, I don’t know, but what with my parents, Andrew’s mum, Claire and all the others, we decided that the fewer people who saw us the better.

After about half an hour, we surfaced for air and decided that we really had to go to bed. I had to get up early in the morning for my run and to be frank, all this heavy stuff was sapping my strength. So after a last tongue numbing extra sensory, toe curling kiss, we parted and went our separate ways. It was getting very hard not to give in to our feelings and consummate things, but we managed–just, to hold ourselves together.

As I lay in bed in my satin PJs that night, I found it difficult to sleep, everything was whirring round in my head. Would I be accepted by everyone? Could I make it as a girl pro footballer? What will the fans think? They can be a fickle lot–fans. You could be the flavour of the month and then do something stupid and never recover from it. Then there was the media; what would they say about all of this? Would I be considered as a freak or just a girl who wanted to play in a man’s game? Well, I wasn’t having any of that nonsense. Girls are as good as men in many ways and superior too in many things. Why can’t a girl be a success at football? All right, I wasn’t as strong as some players, but not all male players are built like a brick outside loo.

Cuddling my white rabbit, I turned over and wished once again that it was Andrew there instead, to hold me and to tell me that I shouldn’t be a silly girl, worrying about things that I had no control over.

I wakened about an hour before I had to get up. It had been one of those nights where you toss and turn and no matter what you try, you can’t sleep properly. It was with relief that the clock finally crept around to five thirty and I was able to get up. I just used the toilet and put on my trackies. I had a bit of a tummy ache so I took a couple of Paracetamol.

On opening the curtains, I saw it was still dark outside, so I padded downstairs, carrying my trainers in my hand, trying not to make too much noise as the twins had extra sensory perception and could hear a nappy pin drop at a range of a quarter of a mile. Why was I surprised to find Danni waiting in the kitchen, cup of tea in hand looking a fresh as a daisy?

‘Morning, Susan–did you sleep well?’

‘Not very,’ I replied feeling a bit annoyed at how anyone who wasn’t born in Stepford could possibly be that cheerful at this time of the morning. I don’t know what pills she was on, but I wanted some.

I made myself a cup of tea and sat down next to her.

‘Big day today.’

‘Mmm,’ I replied conversationally blowing on the hot drink to cool it. I wasn’t a morning person. Given the chance, I wouldn’t get up until the morning officially changed into the afternoon. My normal mode of conversation in the morning consisted of grunts–that is if I bothered to answer at all.

In next to no time, and I must admit with some hesitation, we made it out of the kitchen door and were off on our run. Today I really only had time for only three miles as I had things to do and places to go. It had started to get light as we set off and the day promised to be bright but cold. I soon warmed up as we ran down to the gates, let ourselves out and started pounding the roads. It was quiet with not many people about except for the occasional milkman and postman. I soon woke myself up and started getting my second breath. I tried not to think much about the coming day and how things would go for me, but I suppose that it was inevitable that I would. Mind you, at least by this time tomorrow the worst would be over–I hoped.

As I finished running with the ever present Danni just yards behind me, I felt distinctly better for the exercise. I had more bounce in my running and didn’t sound like an asthmatic sheep by the end of it.

We reached the gates to the drive and as usual, Danni keyed in the number to let us in. On a whim, I sprinted up the drive with Danni running closely behind me. I made a bit of a resolution, that one day, I would outstrip Danni and finish miles ahead of her–it was a dream, but girls need to dream, don’t they?

After walking about a bit to warm down, we let ourselves into the kitchen. I was surprised to find Daddy and Mummy there. Daddy was on the phone and looked worried. Then John Prentiss walked in. I hadn’t seen his car so he must have parked around the back.

‘Hello, Susan,’ he said as Daddy put the phone down.

‘Hi John, what’s up?’

‘What’s up, what’s up?’ said Daddy looking at me and shoving a newspaper in front of me, ‘look at that.’

Frowning, I picked up the paper and gasped when I read the lead story on the back page.
 
 

MARK HURST IS A TRANSVESTITE!
From our new special reporter Bob Ferris	The Globe been given exclusive information from a reliable source that Mark Hurst is in fact a transvestite!
According to the source, Mark spends much of his time dressed as a girl and has in fact been seen in public posing as a girl–writes Bob Ferris.      Hurst, who is recovering from an horrific injury and is the pride and joy of Melchester United since he burst on the scene just a few short months ago, was unavailable for comment today and Melchester United’s press team also refused to comment. How much Mark’s habit will infringe on his team is not, as yet, known but we asked Manethorpe’s Swedish international goalkeeper, Tom Johansson, his opinion of Hurst’s strange obsession with women’s clothes.      ‘Well, of course I knew that there was something strange about him when we played against his team the other week. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was on drugs or something. I would be very unhappy to play against someone who did that. I am broad minded, but there is a limit.’      If Johansson’s view of Mark Hurst–or does he call himself Mandy when dressed in frills and lace–is reflected in other players, this newspaper wonders if he–or is it she–? has a place in football at all.      Turn to page 17 where an eminent psychiatrist tries to unravel the mind of a young man who goes against all that is natural and wears women’s clothes.

 
I put the paper down and buried my head in my hands. Mummy came over and gave me a cuddle.

Daddy was talking loudly and pacing the room, talking about libel and slander and how couldn’t let a sleazy paper like the Globe, get away with such rubbish.

‘That bloody Bob Ferris, he’s always had it in for Mark and now he wants to ruin Susan. If I get hold of him, there won’t be much left to bury.’

I looked up at John, who wasn’t saying much bit I was puzzled by the slight smile playing around his lips.

‘What’s funny?’ I asked rather rudely. Then I felt some wetness in my panties. ‘Oh bugger.’ I said angrily and without thinking, picked up a mug and threw it against the wall and rushed off upstairs in tears.

I rushed into my bathroom, noticed a spot of red on my blue trackie bottoms and pulled them down with dread. Had a stitch come undone? Then I saw my cotton undies had blood on them too and I began to cry, not wanting to look; there was a knock on the door.

‘Y—y—yes?’ I called out in a quavering voice.

‘It’s Mummy, may I come in?’

‘O—okay––’

She came in and took one look at me. ‘Having problems, kiddo?’

‘Oh, Mummy, I’m bleeding–look.’ I pointed at the gusset of my knickers.

She took over.

‘Right, let’s get these dirty things off and clean you up.’

‘Have the stitches burst open, Mummy?’

She looked at me quizzically.

‘It’s more likely to be your monthly visitor, sweetie. Don’t you remember those cosy little chats we had?’

‘Oh,’ I said pulling down my panties and cleaning myself up with several tissues. ‘But Mummy, I can’t be due yet?’

I tried to see where the bleeding was coming from and it didn’t appear to be the scars.

‘Yes you can,’ Mummy continued, ‘at first they can be unpredictable. Now, you’ve got some tampons in the bathroom cabinet. Put one in and we’ll see if you can manage with these. If you are heavy though you may need to a sanitary pad.’

‘Yuk,’ I said.

‘Yes, yuk. Welcome to the sisterhood, love.’

Well to cut a long story short, it was Auntie Flo paying me a visit and after careful consideration, Mummy changed her mind about the tampons and advised the use of maxi pads instead as my flow was rather heavy. A bit unfair that really, as I had read that girls normally started light and then sometimes went heavy. Me being me, went off at the deep end and started losing pints immediately. Well that might be a slight exaggeration, as it was probably not much more than an egg cup full, but that’s how I felt initially.

After a shower and cleaning myself up, I put on a t-shirt and denim skirt over some sensible cotton panties with the bulky pad stuck on the inside. Then I made my way downstairs with Mummy. I didn’t like the pad much, as it made me feel a bit like I was wearing a nappy or something. I wondered if I could get a sex change and get turned into a boy. I smiled at that, knowing that despite this–this inconvenience, I wouldn’t be a boy for all the tea in China.

The others were still sitting around the kitchen table and looked up when we came in.

‘Sorry,’ I said in a small voice, sitting down next to Daddy and giving him a bit of a hug.

‘That’s okay, love, I know the signs.’

‘You do?’ I replied, looking up at him, somewhat surprised.

‘Yes, your mother gets like that sometimes; it passes.’

He glanced at the paper again and went back into angry mode. Standing up, he began to pace the room and mumble something like ‘I’ll kill the little sod,’ repeatedly.

I started getting upset again and it was ridiculous that I could change from calm to livid in a nano-second!

‘Look, everyone can we please calm down,’ said John with exasperation in his voice. ‘ Jeff can you stop pacing about like that. We need to talk about this and getting steamed up and going in with both feet will play into the hands of that slime-ball Ferris and his poor excuse for a newspaper.’

We all shut up then as John had the floor.

‘Right,’ it’s a setback, I can’t deny it. We wanted to get the information about Susan out into the public domain on our terms, and The Globe think that they have a scoop. But that isn’t the case. Susan is a girl not a boy. Although they say disgusting things about transvestites, they have got it all wrong. If we play this right, there will be a backlash against the Globe and we will also get the sympathy of the public and, just as important, the other media.’

‘How?’ asked Daddy, still seething and barely keeping himself in check.

‘Susan will be going in front of the cameras today as a pretty and talented girl who has permission to play the game she loves without any bar due to her gender. She is brave, talented, beautiful and has a head on her shoulders far beyond her years–’

‘I am here you know. I rather you didn’t speak about me like that.’

‘The trouble with you, my dear,’ John said, sipping at a cup of coffee, ‘is that you have always thought that you were not good enough and you never like being praised. I put that down to that damned father of yours and the way he always put you down. Well you have got talent and you are successful and we will beat The Globe and Ferris at their own sordid game. Are you willing to go out there fighting or do you want to hide away and not let the world see the fruits of your talents?’

‘Why do they print such lies about me?’ I asked, not far from tears.

‘Because lies like that sell newspapers. How many times you do read in the press about celebs reportedly doing stupid things only later to be found out as false. The celebs win the cases that go to court but the apology from the press is normally printed deep inside the newspaper, where not many people read about it. It happens all the time and until the press are stopped from perpetrating such falsehoods, it will continue ad nauseam.’

‘John’s right,’ said Mummy, ‘they bleat on about freedom of the press and the public’s right to know, but all they are really interested in is selling more papers.’

I looked at them all. They were trying to help me, but I didn’t know if I could be strong enough for all this. I then glanced at Daddy; he was staring at his mug of undrunk coffee, deep in thought.

‘Daddy, what do you think?’

He looked up and smiled slightly.

‘Whatever you decide, your mother and I will back you up to the hilt. But in the end it’s your decision. You have said that you wanted to get out there and do what you are good at, but now you’ve seen what the media can do to you, I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind.’

‘Mummy?’

‘I agree with Jeff. It’s up to you love. But we will be right behind you whatever you decide.’

‘As for me,’ said John, ‘I think of you more than as just a client. You are a friend and I want the best for you. We can make this work in your favour, but you need to ask yourself how much you want to succeed and is the price worth it?’

I stood up.

‘I’m going to pop upstairs for a bit. Can your answer wait until I’m back down?’

‘Yes,’ said Daddy, ‘but as we’ve arranged a lot of things today, we need your answer quickly. If you can’t make your mind up, we’ll have to say that you aren’t well enough to speak for the moment and put them off.’

‘No more lies, Daddy.’

‘Okay honey. I agree, no more lies.’

Looking over at Mummy, I said, ‘can you come up in a few minutes?’

‘Yes love, ten minutes okay?’

‘Mmm.’

I left them sitting around the table as I trudged upstairs feeling more tired than I ought to be. I was undecided what to do but my mind kept going back to one of the forum entries that I had seen on my fan site. I went there occasionally and I must admit, it was weird to see all the comments about little old me.

I rubbed my cramped tummy and fired up my laptop; clicking on my favourites, and then on the fan site. Scanning the forum, I reread the entry from Louise 21 who said:

‘I think Markie is the best. He’s got so much talent and proves that you don’t have to be old to play brilliantly. I’ve just joined my local under 12’s girl’s football team because of Markie and I hope that one day I can play like him.’

I might have said before that I belong to a transgendered forum and my heart nearly broke at some of the stories that I read there about the lack of acceptance and the narrow-mindedness of some people. I could relate to that through the actions of my slime-ball father, may he rot in hell…

Just then there was a knock on the door. ‘Are you decent?’

‘Yes, Mummy.’

She entered and came straight to me.

‘How are you, honey?’

‘I’m okay. I don’t like this period thing and it just had to happen now! Also it was a bit of a shock reading that rubbish in the paper; but it’s meaningless really because I’m not a transvestite, but crap like that doesn’t help the transgendered community. I hate the prejudice that they peddle in the name of news.’

‘Yes, they’re one of the worst.’

I looked at Mummy. ‘I can’t let it go. I won’t hide my head in the sand. I want to carry on and show The Globe and bloody Bob Ferris that they can’t get away with it.’

Mummy smiled and gave me a hug. ‘That’s my girl.’

~*~

A couple of hours later, we drove through the gates at the Melchester United ground. The press were out in force, but they didn’t see me as we were in a people carrier that had blacked-out windows.

We carried on past the main entrance and entered by way of a side one. The security guard looked a bit puzzled at the sight of me when the window was lowered, as if he thought he recognised me, but wasn’t quite sure. He did recognise Daddy and John Prentiss though and we were all ushered through the gates without any more ado. I looked at Andrew and he squeezed my hand.

Claire looked a bit intimidated but smiled bravely at my glance. Mummy–well she was my rock. Every time I looked at her she had that strong determined expression that no one was going to mess with her daughter. I wondered if she was missing the twins–now in the capable hands of Mrs Moon. Daddy and John Prentiss were in the front and when we stopped, Daddy turned to me and smiled.

‘Are you ready for this, love?’

‘Yes, Daddy.’

---

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, making suggestions that I hadn't even thought of and pulling the story into shape.

---

Previously...

A couple of hours later, we drove through the gates at the Melchester United ground. The press were out in force, but they didn't see me as we were in a people carrier that had blacked-out windows.

We carried on past the main entrance and entered by way of a side one. The security guard looked a bit puzzled at the sight of me when the window was lowered, as if he thought he recognised me, but wasn't quite sure. He did recognise Daddy and John Prentiss though and we were all ushered through the gates without any more ado. I looked at Andrew and he squeezed my hand.

Claire looked a bit intimidated but smiled bravely at my glance. Mummy–well she was my rock. Every time I looked at her she had that strong determined expression that no one was going to mess with her daughter. I wondered if she was missing the twins–now in the capable hands of Mrs Moon. Daddy and John Prentiss were in the front and when we stopped, Daddy turned to me and smiled.

‘Are you ready for this, love?’

‘Yes, Daddy.’

And now the story continues…

With my family and friends, I was ushered through a plain door and into some sort of lounge. It was, I suppose the equivalent of the BBC’s green room used for hospitality, where people could relax prior to broadcasts. There was a drinks bar in the corner where there were some coffee and other pots. I had a coffee; goodness knows why, because I was hyper enough as it was. I sat next to Andrew as Mummy and Daddy fussed around making noises about what we would be doing and how it was going to be done. I became aware that my hands were shaking slightly and was glad that Andrew was there for me and giving me some sort of physical support.

I removed my coat and cardigan–the room was very hot. I wondered whether it was a wise choice to wear a white dress. It was a pretty broderie anglaise number made by Clockhouse; just above the knee, with a rounded neckline that showed off my slightly developing bust to advantage. The colour signified something to me though but I couldn’t quite get a grip on it. To me I suppose white meant new, weddings, confirmation and suchlike. It was probably a mistake wearing white, and Mummy had been a bit anxious about it, but what the hell, I looked pretty in it and I wanted to impress my femininity on people. My makeup was understated; I didn’t want to show that I was trying too hard, but my two tone blue eye shadow, plumped up lashes and pink glossy lips emphasised my features quite agreeably. I reckoned I looked okay and Andrew, judging by his pained expression and preoccupation with trying to sit comfortably, seemed to have the same view.

I was very tense and uneasy about the forthcoming press briefing. I wasn’t sure what had been said to the media beforehand and I hoped that I wouldn’t be given a hard time. After all, it wasn’t my fault that I was a girl and anyway, it should not be held against me as all I wanted to do was play football to the best of my ability.

“This is like, well cool,” Claire said enthusiastically looking around. It was alright for her, she wasn’t going to face a media frenzy!

“…Susan, are you paying attention?”

“Sorry, Daddy,” I said.

“Right, they’re going to start without you and read a statement regarding what you have been through. Some questions will be answered by the Media Director, Trevor Withers and Sandy McPherson and your mother and I will be there to answer any questions that we can. We felt it best that you didn’t go in initially as we wanted to make sure that the ground is prepared first; is that all right?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I answered in a small voice.

“Are you sure, honey?” Mummy asked. “We can still call this off if you’re unhappy about it.”

I took a deep breath. “No, I want to get it over and on my terms. I don’t want any more rubbish like that story in The Globe. People will see me and then all the questions will be over–I hope.”

Just then Mr McPherson walked in and looking around saw me and smiled. I stood up as he approached. “There ye are lassie. Well looking at ye, there’s no anyone there thas’ gonna think ye’re a man. Are ye up tae this?”

“Yes, boss. Well, I hope so.”

“Richt then, I’ll gang and start things aff. Good luck, and if ye don’t mind me saying, ye’re a bonny wee lassie. But if ye quote me, I’ll kick ye frae here tae eter-r-rnity!” He smiled when he said that, so I don’t think he would, but nobody messes with Sandy McPherson!

Daddy and Mummy left with him after a swift hug and that meant just Claire, Andrew and I remained in the room. I drank some more coffee–as if my heart wasn’t thumping hard enough, already. We didn’t say much and only heard the murmur of voices from the other side of the door. Not hearing any screaming, I took this as a good sign.

I sat beside Andrew again and clutched his hand, wondering how things were going. Daddy had asked me if I wanted to listen in to the start of the proceedings, but I didn’t want to hear. The club doctor was going to explain the medical facts, Mr McPherson was then going to talk about how my being a girl might or might not impact on the club, players, supporters and, of course, the opposition and then Trevor would lay down the ground rules for when I came out.

Watching the clock, I wondered if it was working okay, because the hands seemed to be going round awfully slowly; I jumped as Trevor came in and looked straight at me.

“Show time,” he smiled.

“H…how are they out there?”

“Surprised by the bombshell but being members of the media, nothing much really fazes them. Anyway, are you ready, young lady?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

I gave Andrew and Claire a hug and they wished me good luck as Trevor, still smiling, said, “We have to go.”

How could he smile at a time like this? I went to the long mirror in the corner and checked how I looked. After removing a small speck from my dress and brushing the hair out of my eyes, I smiled weakly at my reflection. I felt like Daniel or should that be Daniela, going to the lions as I turned and followed the media man out to the bright lights, flashes and media buzz.

I was very conscious of being the centre of attention. I blinked constantly at the flashes of the cameras, very aware of my mascara coated eyelashes and my white dress. As I was led to my seat in the centre, I felt that the whole world was staring at me, which was very true if you considered the number of TV cameras and the huge number of microphones just in front of me.

Trevor Withers was talking. “Can we have some quiet please? All right, thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Susan has kindly agreed to answer some questions but I would ask you to be brief and to the point.” He scanned the audience; “Right, Adrian Smith, you have a question?”

I looked up as he began his question. I was surprised at the sea of faces. Surely this wasn’t all for me?

“Susan; Adrian Smith, BBC. How are you coping with all this?”

It was strange–like when I go on the football pitch with forty thousand eyes plus the cameras on me. Before I touch the ball, I am as nervous as a kitten, but once I get a touch of the ball, all thoughts of nerves fly away and I concentrate on the task in hand. It was just the same now as I answered the first question.

“W…well, it’s hard to think that a few months ago I was just some anonymous kid playing park football. Now people want my autograph and hang on every word I say. Then the accident happened and I am even more in the limelight. I suppose if I want to do the best I can in football, I have to expect to it being like this.”

I answered several questions and then I saw him on the front row over to far left. I kept ignoring him, not wishing to give the slime-ball any indication that I was upset at seeing him at the media briefing. How he had managed to get in, I would never know but I would find out afterwards. I understood that he was banned from the ground. Was there someone in the club who didn’t like me?

He kept raising his hand and the media guy kept ignoring him.

I scribbled a note to Daddy.

Why is he here?

The reply came back quickly.

He sneaked in. If he’s ejected it would give him more publicity. Just ignore him.

I was feeling decidedly nervous by then, wondering if he would be allowed to speak. It was all right trying to ignore him, but if looks could kill, I would have been six feet under by now!

I answered a question, almost distractedly from lady in the back row.

“Where did you get the dress? You look lovely.”

I felt myself go red then and spluttered my answer. “Cockhouse–I mean, Clockhouse.”

There was general laughter at that and in horror I saw that, rather than raise his hand again, Ferris stood up.

“A question.” he spat out loudly.

“Look here–” said Trevor.

I couldn’t avoid it. If I didn’t answer his question, no doubt he’d invent his own answers.

“No Trevor,” I sighed, “it’s all right I’ll answer his question. Mr Ferret is it?”

He looked annoyed and about to explode–unfortunately he didn’t. There was more than one titter coming from the floor and I had a feeling Ferris was not liked much–and this from members of the press who would sell their mothers for a headline.

“My name’s Ferris and you know that already. My question is a simple one, are you just a boy dressed as a girl or a real girl? Are you just trying to drum up sympathy or trying to get away from the fact that you think that cross dressers should be able to play in a men’s team. Do you think that the public should pay to see a girl–even a false one–playing in what is obviously a men’s game?”

There was uproar at that. Many of the other reporters started to have a go at Ferris and it was some minutes before things settled down again.

I was staring at Ferris: he wore a smug smile and was saying nothing–just glaring at me maliciously. What had I done to deserve this? Had I caused him any harm? I was getting decidedly annoyed. It was bad enough to be sitting here in front of the world’s media, my every word taken and dissected. It was hard enough that I felt my pad getting rather uncomfortable and damp. I actually looked down and to my horror, saw a small penny-sized patch of blood on my dress. That was all I needed. Now I understood why Mummy didn’t want me to wear a white dress–it should have been red! Then there was the hardest thing of all. I wanted to be accepted by everyone, but I knew as sure as eggs were eggs, that I would never truly be accepted by everyone, no matter how pretty I was or how good a footballer I was.

Things got quieter and Trevor was talking.

“Bob, I don’t know how you got in here as you are well aware that you and your paper are not welcome any more and I cannot allow personal attacks like this on Susan–”

I looked at Ferris, he was getting what he wanted. He had asked the questions and as I had not answered them he would use that against me in the poison that he was no doubt thinking about writing for the next morning’s edition. Despite protests from Daddy and the others next to me, I put my hand up

“Please,” I said looking directly at Ferris, “I’ll answer your questions, although I have been told that legal action is being taken against you personally, and your newspaper. You’ve heard that I am medically and legally female, you don’t think that’s the case, do you?”

“All I know is that you pretended to be a girl when I went to your flat and then the restaurant and that turns out to be a lie. Then you have an accident which lands you in hospital. We printed an exposé and question whether you should be playing with men and or even women and we get all this about you now being a real girl. Our readers would like to know if you think they are stupid or something?”

There were angry murmurs around the room. It seemed that I was right about Bob Ferris not being popular amongst his own kind. I had to physically stop my father from getting up and laying him out and Mummy looked like she wanted to attack him with her handbag. Along the side, I saw, in passing, Andrew and Claire being physically held back by a shaven headed security guard.

All this went on at the back of my mind because as the horrible man spoke I was getting angrier and angrier, gripping the sides of my chair so tightly my knuckles were white. I had to stay in control. If I began shouting and screaming at him, he would have the upper hand. I took a deep breath.

“Mister Ferris, I don’t know why you don’t like me, but there will be people in this world who will never like me. But I’ll try to answer your questions truthfully. When you saw me outside my flat and at the restaurant I was dressed as a girl and thought I was transgendered. This means, to me anyway, that although I had the physical looks and equipment of the boy, inside, where it matters, I was a girl. As far as I am concerned I felt that I had been born in the wrong body. So when you saw me outside my flat, you saw the girl I am and not a boy you thought I was."

"Yes, but..."

"Please let me answer your questions Mr Ferris. Regarding your second question which was whether cross-dressers–and I assume you mean transgendered women by that–and even genetic girls should play football with men on equal terms. The answer to that is definitely yes. Why should women be held back by gender if they are able to play with men on equal terms? That’s prejudice, clear and simple. Genetic women are not second-class citizens and neither are people from the transgender community who are just struggling to be accepted. Your third question was; should fans pay to watch girls, even what you call false ones, playing in a man’s game. Well, Mr Ferris, you may not have noticed, but at least half the world’s population are female and by spouting that sort of garbage you are making us second class citizens. Fans will pay to watch a good football match, who cares whether they are men or women? It’s the game and how it’s played that matters, not what is between your legs. I’ll be sixteen in two weeks time. I want to grow older in a world that doesn’t have to listen to crap like the rubbish you are peddling––”

He was furious, I could see that, but I was bloody angry too. Perhaps it was the after effects of the PMT or that I was feeling defensive and antsy, but I wanted this man to be humiliated and that’s why my words had been so strong. He looked as if he was about to have a heart attack and to be honest, I would not have cried crocodile tears at that moment if he had keeled over and died on the spot. The world would be a better place without his brand of poison.

He stood up.

“You still haven’t proved that you are a girl,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What is your problem Mr Ferris, don’t you like women?”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“Or is it the transgendered that you hate? Why have you got a down on me?”

“The public have a right––”

“–Have they, have they really? Have they the right to listen to you? Perhaps they have, but when you write a story, you should base it on truth, not the lies and half-truths you peddle–” I thought he really was going to have a heart attack soon, as if anything, he went redder in the face. I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but this press conference was going to have one of the highest hit rates that YouTube had ever had and footage would appear on televisions not only in this country but all over the world. Later, I asked Daddy why he didn’t deck the creep, but he just said that I was doing a pretty good job of it myself. Anyway, Ferris seemed to take several deep breaths and then tried to continue his attack on me.

“Well, Miss Hurst, you still haven’t proved to me that you are a woman. Doctors can be bought. Records can be changed–”

“So it matters then that I might be transgendered then? So, let’s see, you seem to hate the whole of the transgendered community who have to fight every day against people like you and genetic women too? I feel really sorry for you, Mr Ferris.”

He smiled, for some reason and said, “So, despite clever words for a fifteen year old you still can’t or won’t prove who or what you are – Mark.”

“Clever words for a fifteen year old? So you are against kids too? Who do you like, Mr Ferris, mad axe murderers? Rapists, perhaps?”

“How dare you!” He thundered.

“No–how dare you, Mr Ferris, try to put me down like this! I may only be fifteen, but I’m not thick. So I can put more than two words together, so what; are you surprised or are you one of those people that think kids have no brains and shouldn’t speak until they are spoken too? I have had a life that’s been hard. I had to grow up fast. I was beaten by my step father until he knocked me out. I have struggled with issues of my identity. My mother has been murdered by my step father who, rather than face justice, killed himself. I was given the opportunity of becoming a player for the best team in the world and now you want to try to put a stop to that–”

“PROVE THAT YOU ARE A GIRL…YOU CAN’T CAN YOU?”

I looked at him. We were both breathing hard. I fancy I could see some veins at the side of his head throbbing as I considered my answer. There was not sound in the room, if you discount the clicking and whirring of cameras and the flashes.

“You want proof?”

“Yes!”

“And you won’t be happy with medical evidence. The club doctor can confirm all this, you know that?”

“The public have––”

“–the right to know. So you keep saying. Well I can strip and you would see that I don’t have any male equipment, but no doubt that would not be good enough for you. I could have had the operation for sexual reassignment and then I still wouldn’t be a woman in your eyes. You want real proof, am I right?”

He just nodded, a sneer on his face, thinking that I had been cornered by his expert interrogation of me.

“A few days ago, I started having tummy cramps. My mood kept swinging from happy to downright nasty. Early this morning after my run, I felt really bad. Then I read the rubbish you printed in your sad excuse for a newspaper. Suddenly I was aware of some wetness in my panties. I rushed upstairs to the bathroom and noticed that I was bleeding. I thought that it might have been something to do with the stitches, but my mother confirmed that I had started my period. As far as I know, only genetic women have periods, but you, Mr Ferris as an obvious expert should know that?”

“Periods can be faked,” he growled, but I could see that he was beginning to doubt his own words now.

“Mr Ferris, I didn’t expect to see you here because you had been banned and I also did not expect to be questioned like this to prove who I am, so there wouldn’t be any reason for me to need to prove things. I am very upset though because this lovely dress has been stained–look.”

I stood up and although I was a bit tearful by now, I managed to smile as Ferris stared, with horror, on the now somewhat larger patch of red blood on my otherwise very clean dress.

He took one look at it–nearly said something–and then, pushing past the other members of the press, left the room in a hurry. Before he got very far I called out to him.

“Oh Mr Ferris?”

He looked back just as he got to the door.

“Just one thing. My name is not Mark, it’s Susan.”

He gave me one more look of pure hatred and slammed out.

A few seconds later, pandemonium broke out as half the people rushed out of the room to file their stories and I left the scene with Daddy on one side of me and Mummy on the other. I was upset, but not–I think–as upset as Ferris was. It didn't stop me though, from falling into my mother’s arms and bursting into tears.

---

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, making suggestions that I hadn't even thought of and pulling the story into shape.

---

Previously...

“Mr Ferris, I didn’t expect to see you here because you had been banned and I also did not expect to be questioned like this to prove who I am, so there wouldn’t be any reason for me to need to prove things. I am very upset though because this lovely dress has been stained–look.”

I stood up and although I was a bit tearful by now, I managed to smile as Ferris stared, with horror, on the now somewhat larger patch of red blood on my otherwise very clean dress.

He took one look at it–nearly said something–and then, pushing past the other members of the press, left the room in a hurry. Before he got very far I called out to him.

“Oh, Mr Ferris?”

He looked back just as he got to the door.

“Just one thing. My name is not Mark, it’s Susan.”

He gave me one more look of pure hatred and slammed out.

A few seconds later, pandemonium broke out as half the people rushed out of the room to file their stories and I left the scene with Daddy on one side of me and Mummy on the other. I was upset, but not–I think–as upset as Ferris was. It didn’t stop me though, from falling into my mother’s arms and bursting into tears.

And now the story continues…

Two weeks later, I awoke in the morning and before I even opened my eyes, I was smiling. You see, today was the day that I was to go back and begin training with the club again and it was also my birthday, I was now officially sixteen.

As I lay there, I cast my mind back to the dramatic press conference and the inevitable fallout.

After Bob Farris’s dramatic verbal attack on me and his subsequent storming out of the room, I fell into Mummy’s arms and was so upset that I didn’t quite know what was going on for a while. It must have been shock and the reaction to the events, but I only have a dim recollection of the next few hours. The strength that I had shown in front of all the press and in particular, The Ferret, had left me as soon as the conference had finished; in short, I was an emotional wreck. Somehow I was hustled out of the building and eventually found myself back home.

For two days I declined to leave my room and refused to eat. I wondered what Ferris had written about me and whether the whole world was against me. I slept fitfully and had vivid dreams of going out on the pitch in a short skirt and top and everyone laughing at me as I kept falling over whenever the ball was near me.

My parents were so concerned about me that they called in a doctor. After examining me and asking a lot of stupid questions about how I felt, she came to the blinding conclusion that I was in an emotional state because of a combination of factors. Firstly, the accident and resultant operation, secondly, the fact that my period was heavy and that I was being hormonal–whatever that means and thirdly, I was insecure in as much as I didn’t really believe that I could make it as a football player, a girl football player that is, in a man’s game.

She gave me some pills, said that the mind was a funny thing and that I would get used to things soon and that I should let my mind heal as well as my body.

At the time I thought that she was talking nonsense and I am ashamed to say I told her so. I was like a bear with a sore head and snapped at everyone. I wouldn’t listen to everyone saying that I was being dealt with sympathetically by the media and that the staff, players and supporters of my club and they were right behind me. I had just got it into my head that I was no good and that was that. That’s a lot of that’s, but that’s how I felt!

It was my second evening of myself imposed bedroom confinement and I was just lying on my bed in my nightie watching a cartoon, when there was a knock on the door.

‘Go away,’ I shouted.

There was another knock on the door.

‘I said, go away!’

‘Susan, open the door this instant!’

‘Oh blimey,’ I thought, ‘Auntie Chris!’

I got out of bed, went to the door, unlocked it and then opened it.

‘H–hello, Auntie Chris.’

She looked me up and down, with a frown on her face.

‘You have precicely twenty minutes to make yourself presentable and then you will come down and talk to me in your sitting room. We are alone; everyone has gone out. Twenty minutes––’

She glared at me again, obviously not liking what she saw, sniffed, shook her head and went off down the corridor.

I shut the door quietly and sat down on the bed. I felt a bit resentful that Mummy and Daddy had brought in the big guns in the shape of Auntie Chris. She wasn’t like my mum. She was strong and had very strict ideas as to how girls or boys for that matter behaved. Normally, she was a sweet lovely lady, but when she felt in the mood, she was more frightening than Mr McPherson!

I went over and looked at my reflection. I wasn’t a very pretty sight in my crumpled pink cotton nightie. My hair looked awful and my eyes had black smudges under them. I fleetingly thought of just locking my door again, telling Auntie Chris and anyone else to go to hell and diving under the covers. Then I sighed. It didn’t come natural to me to be a rebel. I suppose I was just beginning to feel a bit guilty. They had brought my auntie all the way down from sunny Haggisland to come and tell me off. At least I should let her rant and rave at me before I retracted back in to my shell.

I had a very quick shower, using a shower hat to keep my hair dry. It needed a wash, but I just didn’t have the time.

After drying myself with a towel, I put on my panties and bra–funny that I was now able to put on my bra without thinking. When I first started wearing one, I had a devil of a job putting it on, but now it was just second nature. Staring at my face, I was a bit pale and there were those dark circles under my eyes too, I nearly cried at the sight. After fighting back the tears, I put on some foundation to cover up my most obvious defects, then some blusher to put some colour into my cheeks. I didn’t bother with eye liner or mascara, in the mood I was in I would poke out my eye and anyway I wasn’t exactly going clubbing. I just finished off with some strawberry flavoured pink lippy and then, looking at the clock, I slipped on a white tank top and black skirt, then some black sandals. Brushing my hair as best as I could, took a few minutes though, as the tangles were vile.

Checking myself in the mirror, I noted that I wasn’t exactly a beauty queen, but at least I looked slightly more presentable.

I went downstairs and into the sitting room. Auntie Chris was standing by the window gazing out on the manicured garden outside. She was so like my poor dead mum that my heart nearly stopped as I caught her profile. As I walked up she turned around and looked at me.

‘Well, Susan, so what’s all this about, girl?’

I could feel the tears start to roll down my cheeks.

‘Oh, Auntie–’

Her face softened and she opened her arms and I flew into them.

After a while, I calmed down slightly. It had been like a dam bursting or something. Other than just after the press conference, this was the only time I had cried. I had bottled everything up and now had I just let everything go.

Auntie had gone to brew us each a cup of tea, while I repaired my ravaged face. After a short while, she returned with the drink that is supposed to make you feel better–no matter what. Funnily enough, as I sipped it, the tea did help me somewhat.

As we sat on the sofa, I told Auntie all that had happened to me over the last few days and before that. The accident and operation, the fallout of my enforced change of gender–well not enforced, that was the wrong word–I suppose the shock of discovering I was intersexed and all that meant to me, I suppose.

As I explained to Auntie Chris, I had wanted to be Susan full time eventually, but I wanted to do it on my own terms and at my own pace. Suddenly, when that ball hit me, the choice was taken out of my hands. I couldn’t just play football for a while and gradually out myself as and when I wanted to. It was a bit like being on a rollercoaster, I had been placed on it through no fault of my own and had not had a chance to get off until the ride was finished. I know that the explanation sounds silly, but I think Auntie Chris understood what I was saying.

She looked at me kindly; ‘So you feel that you don’t have any control over things?’

‘That’s right and I’m so worried about what everyone thinks of me.’

‘Even though your parents have told you that everyone is being supportive?’

‘I—I just thought that they were trying to be kind to me and not wanting me to feel hurt.’

‘They didn’t lie to you, and I don’t think that they ever would, and certainly not over something as important as this.’

She stood up and went to a table in the corner. ‘Come over here, Susan.’

I got to my feet and joined her. On the table were a number of newspapers.

She pointed to one. ‘Look.’

I stared at the headline.

 
 

PLUCKY SUSAN HURST THE DARLING OF MELCHESTER

This seasoned and perhaps cynical reporter turned up at the Melchester United press briefing expecting a run of the mill interview with possibly the most exciting new talent in British football–but nothing out of the ordinary. To say I was surprised by what I heard in that packed room, would, I think be an understatement–writes our football correspondent, Hamish Chisholm.

We learned that young Mark Hurst had recovered from his accident–that was fair enough–and we were informed that he would soon resume training once again. These are things that we have heard on countless occasions at such press conferences. I was a bit concerned that Mark was not present, but we had been told that he would arrive shortly. I was sure that our photographer would at least be able to get a few decent shots of the lad and the day wouldn’t be totally wasted.      Then we all sat up when we were told something which I suppose is decidedly different to say the least. Mark, it turns out is in fact Susan. She had an underlying health issue that was only discovered after the accident. Beneath her apparent male genitalia, ‘he’ was in fact a ‘she’ and technically was what is known as intersexed. Mark’s male parts were damaged beyond repair in the accident and it was decided to remove those parts so that she could recover and become the girl that had been hidden inside her since she was born.      To be honest, I was somewhat cynical as I think most of the hardened reporters in the room were. I imagined that this was just some sort of publicity stunt and Mark would come out looking like a boy in a dress. When she arrived, looking shy and demure in an elegant white dress–every inch a girl–I could hear the gasps of my colleagues as we drank in the stunning feminine vision before us. She looked shy, slightly overawed at the reception and more than a little vulnerable.      She answered our questions quietly, with a hint of humour as she seemed to overcome her shyness and come out of her shell. Then, I regret to say, one reporter, Bob Ferris, stood up and began a verbal attack on her that made even the most hardened journalist in the room cringe and feel ashamed of our profession. You can read the full transcript of the exchange on page three, but for the present I can report that Susan acquitted herself with an assurance far exceeding her tender years.      After the exchanges, Mr Ferris left the room in disgrace and Susan left shortly afterwards.      I am able to report that Ferris was dismissed by his employer immediately and has, I understand, gone to ground. It seems unlikely that he will ever be able to find a job in our profession in the UK and is now the subject of an investigation by the Press Complaints Commission and also is being sued by Miss Hurst, Melchester United and other parties.      Judging by the reception of the vast majority of the press, players and fans, Susan Hurst need not worry about being a girl playing in a man’s world. She is there by right because of her exceptional skills and the game is the richer by her presence on the centre stage.

 
I put the paper down and sat on a chair. Auntie Chris was talking to me––

‘–The papers are virtually unanimous in their praise of you. You won’t be laughed at and people really appreciate what you have been through. Oh, there are idiots who think you’re the Devil’s Spawn, but let’s face it you can’t please all of the people all of the time, so be thankful that you have a large number of devoted fans who are willing you to be the best footballer in the country. Your web page has had record hits on it and the membership of your fan club has now reached six figures. Your publicity man tells me that he has been able to get enough sponsorship to ensure that you need never lift your finger working ever again once you finally retire and he has lined up countless interviews for you as well. So what is all this about your being a failure or not good enough, for goodness sake?’

I looked at her and smiled sheepishly. ‘I—I’ve been a bit of an idiot, haven’t I, Auntie?’

‘Yes, my dear, you have, but an understandable idiot. The things that you’ve been through would have tried someone twice your age with ten times your experience, but as long as you believe in yourself, that’s all that matters.’

So here I was, sixteen years old with the world at my feet. A lot of people had invested a lot of time on me, emotionally and financially. Now it was up to me to do the best I could to repay their trust and that is what I intended to do. Last night, I had a lot of apologies to make for my behaviour and it was nice to make it up to everyone. Mummy took me aside before I went to bed and I said sorry to her once more.

‘Look, Susan, for goodness sake stop saying “sorry”. Everyone understands and you should just drop it. Between you and me, when I was your age I was a right little sod. A lot of girls go through some angst but get through it. Just remember to try to hold yourself back and bite your tongue next month when the dreaded curse returns.’

‘Can’t I just take a pill?’ I whined.

‘If only it was that simple!’ She laughed.

~ * ~

Returning to the present, I jumped out of bed smiling; I went into to the bathroom and did the necessary. My smile widened as I remembered that my little monthly friend (not) was still absent and, I hoped, would stay that way for at least a fortnight!

As I left my bathroom, Claire rushed in–without knocking, of course. She hadn’t dressed yet either.

‘Wow, Susan, who’s the birthday girl then? Like, it’s going to be fab, brill, great, smart, neat and well and truly wicked tonight. Make sure you don’t break anything in training as I do not, like want to spend your birthday party night in the Accident and Emergency. We have some serious, heavy shopping to do. I need a wicked dress and you need something new too, so get to training and I’ll like, meet you there. Your Dad’s gonna drive us and the security goons are going to protect us from your adoring public. Andrew wanted to go–I think he fancies wearing a frock tonight, but he won’t ’cos he doesn’t want to, like out himself, y’know and––’

‘Claire!’

‘Like, what?’

‘Please zip it for a minute, or you’ll give me a headache. Let me get this training session over first and then we can talk partay!’

An hour later, Daddy drove me to the training ground. I wondered what reception I would get and as I got out of the car, Daddy dug me in the ribs and pointed.

I went all gooey as I saw a big banner across the reception building, on it emblazoned in red was: WELCOME BACK SUSAN AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

‘Aaaw, that’s so sweet!’

I was wearing my Melchester track suit, unisex of course as I didn’t think that a mini skirt, fish net stockings and five inch heels would be very appropriate today.

As I walked into reception, it was nice to see everyone greet me with nice smiles and ‘hellos’. I made my way to the dressing room and there was no one there except the kit man, who looked up as I walked in.

‘Hi, Susan,’ said Big Bill as he came over.

‘Hello, Bill, nice to see you; the others out already?’

‘Yes, the boss said that they should go out a few minutes early for your first day back while you get yourself sorted out. He also said that this was a one off and it won’t happen again.’

‘He would,’ I said smiling, but thankful for the unasked-for help in settling me back in.

I went over to the changing cubicle and took my trackies off. My training kit was already waiting for me so I quickly changed. I was wearing my sports bra already and knew that it supported me fairly well in the breast department. The last thing I wanted was to injure a team mate with an eyeful of breast–mind you, knowing some of those lecherous so-an’-sos, they probably wouldn’t mind too much.

As I pulled up my football socks and slipped in the shin guards, I still wondered if I would be accepted as one of the lads.

After tying the laces of my football boots and putting on the training bib, red this time, I walked out and noticed that Bill had disappeared. Going over to the long mirror, I pulled my hair back and slipped on a scrunchie. Scanning my image, I smiled. It was still the old Mark–except it wasn’t–no tell-tell bulge in my shorts and of course I had the hard-to-miss breasts. I was wearing no makeup, but my lips appeared to be fuller and looking down at my body, my hips were certainly bigger. As for my bum, well, let’s put it this way, if I landed on it, at least I had some padding!

No, come to think of it, this was definitely Susan staring back at me and I liked that a great deal.

I sighed and left the changing room. From the sound of the lads out on the pitch and some whistles blowing like mad, they were doing some intervals. I didn’t like that much and was glad that I had, at least, missed that bit of torture.

As I made my way up the slope and out to the training pitch, I could see that I was right; they were doing some interval training. I stood on the line and waited to be noticed. After a few minutes another whistle blew and the lads gratefully stopped for a breather.

Mike Thomas, the reserve team coach was taking the training session with the help of several of the assistant coaches. It was unbelievable that I didn’t know many names yet, but then I hadn’t really been with the club that long.

Mike saw me and called me over. As I ran up to him and the others, I got several ‘hi’s from the lads.

I sort of waved, still embarrassed at the situation. I wasn’t at all sure about myself, despite the pep talk that I had had with Auntie Chris and later my parents, but I had to just take a deep breath and pile in there.

‘Glad to see you, Sue. Right, lads; let’s get the training match started–

Soon I was running up and down the pitch as if I had never been away. But something was wrong, I wasn’t getting the ball much and nobody was tackling me. I called and called for the ball but it was as if I wasn’t on the pitch. I was getting a bit antsy at that, so I just stopped as the play went upfield and then walked off the pitch. I went and sat down on the benches and awaited developments.

It was only a few moments when it was noticed that I had left the field of play. Mike blew up and everything stopped. The lads all looked over at me and I could see more than a few frowns on their faces.

‘What’s wrong Sue? Are you in pain or something?’

I looked up at him.

‘No, I’m not in pain, but as no one wants me to join in with the game, this is all pretty pointless. If this is the way things are going to be, I had better find a team that does want to play with me.’

He sat down beside me.

‘Bugger, we’ve made things worse haven’t we?’

‘Yes you have. I either play with and for the team or I’m out. I’m not going to be some sort of token or mascot–I have a skill and I want to use it. It’s nearly half time, I’m going to powder my pretty nose and by the time I get back, if I don’t get what I want, then that’s it. I’m not being a prima donna, I just want to play.’

With that I went back down the tunnel and into the dressing room. Luckily the toilets were individual and I went into one and locked the door behind me. Sitting on the loo, I put my head in my hands. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. I thought that after all the support that the club and players had given me, I would be accepted. But I was being treated like a fragile and tender flower and I wasn’t going to accept that after all I had gone through.

Looking at the clock, I noticed that twenty minutes had passed. I reluctantly got up and went out again. I made sure that I wasn’t showing any signs of my despair, my eyes were a wee bit red, but I didn’t think that it would show.

As I walked out on the pitch, everyone was assuming their positions. I didn’t say anything and just went across to the right and waited for the game to restart.

The whistle blew and the game restarted in earnest. After a few moments, the ball came out to me and I slotted it out to the wing–I was back!

Judging by the bruises on my legs after the game, I think the lads took on board my feelings and let me play a normal game. It had been nil-nil at half time–the teams being roughly of equal strength–but as I was being carried in the first half, it was virtually ten against eleven, so it was surprising that no one on the opposition had scored.

Anyway, I soon got back into the swing of things and started spraying the ball, right, left and centre. I had to be careful as the other team were not holding back on the tackles any more. Daniel Schmitt just missed doing me an injury as I leapt over his flailing leg and ran upfield. It was only about ten minutes to go and you know me, I hate to lose. Anyway, then Arnold tried to tackle me and I just put the ball on one side of him and swerved around the other, picking up the ball as he tied himself in knots trying to turn two ways at once.

Obviously I hadn’t lost much speed, as I was streets ahead of my nearest team mate. Ivan Gloshter, the goalie, standing between the uprights, began moving towards me to reduce the angle. I was about ten yards from the penalty area and knew that if Ivan came any closer, there was no way that I would be able to get the ball past him easily. I took the decision to shoot, using my left rather than my–favoured–right foot. I thumped the ball with the outside of my foot and it swerved past the desperately diving Ivan as it bent like a banana into the corner of the net.

GOAL!

My team mates congratulated me like it was a premier league match and were all over me like a rash. I got kissed several times, but hey, boys even do that to each other after a goal, don’t they?

The match continued and we scored another one and I’m glad to say I made it because I went to the goal line near the corner flag and managed to cross for the ball to one of the up and coming youngsters–hark at me–to head it home.

All in all, after the faltering start, I had been treated as one of the team and that is exactly what I hoped for. The only fly in the ointment was how other teams and supporters would treat me, but I wasn’t worried about that as I went with Daddy, Claire and the ever present minders to the shopping centre. I was going to buy a drop dead gorgeous dress for my party and I was going to shop until I dropped!

---

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, making suggestions that I hadn't even thought of and pulling the story into shape.

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Previously...

GOAL!

My team mates congratulated me like it was a premier league match and were all over me like a rash. I got kissed several times, but hey, boys even do that to each other after a goal, don’t they?

The match continued and we scored another one and I’m glad to say I made it because I went to the goal line near the corner flag and managed to cross for the ball to one of the up and coming youngsters–hark at me–to head it home.

All in all, after the faltering start, I had been treated as one of the team and that is exactly what I hoped for. The only fly in the ointment was how other teams and supporters would treat me, but I wasn’t worried about that as I went with Daddy, Claire and the ever present minders to the shopping centre. I was going to buy a drop dead gorgeous dress for my party and I was going to shop until I dropped!

And now the story continues…

As we approached the shopping centre, I noticed that it was rather busy. We had two cars, one with Daddy, Claire and I in and the other, a 4X4 Range Rover, with blacked out windows with the two security people, Danni and Charlotte in. The Range Rover was in front.

‘Daddy, where are we going to park?’ I asked.

‘It’s all arranged, love,’ said Daddy rather smugly I thought.

I looked at Claire who shrugged her shoulders; she evidently was as much in the dark as me.

We followed the Range Rover as it made its way through the multi story car park and then stopped in front of some barriers. A man in some sort of uniform came out of a small office and went over to the other car. After a few moments the man nodded and the barriers were raised. We followed the other car into another parking area where there were just a few cars and parked beside them.

Daddy turned around to us and smiled. ‘Being famous sometimes helps. I rang the centre manager a couple of days ago and told him that you wanted to do a bit of shopping but thought parking might be a problem. I rang him again today and told him approximately when we would be arriving. I’ll tell you more later. What I can say is that he was only too happy to help, but don’t be surprised if you have to have your photo taken with him.’

‘Why on earth would he want that?’ I asked.

‘Good advertising for the Melchester City Shopping Centre if it’s seen that the great Susan Hurst goes shopping there.’

‘Oh, Daddy, I wanted this to be low key and anyway, I’m not that well known.’

‘You’d be surprised. Anyway, let’s go and do some shopping, although you do know that I hate this sort of thing with a passion and if your mother wasn’t busy today, she would be doing this–’

‘Daddy?’

‘Yes, love?’

‘Do you always whine when you go shopping?’

‘Bloody cheek––’

Claire and I rolled about laughing at that and it was a few minutes before we were ready to get out of the car.

Danni and Charlotte were waiting for us, looking all cool and efficient and we all got into the lift that led to the shopping centre. I did ask Charlotte why they both weren’t wearing sunglasses, but she just poked her tongue out–not very professional that.

I had changed into the usual teenage gear, t shirt, hooded top–pink and rather nice blue jeans, before I left the training ground. I didn’t want to stand out too much. I wanted to wear some sort of hat, but Claire, the font of all teen knowledge said that it wasn’t, like cool, so I went bare headed, my hair in a pony tail.

The olds and I include Danni and Charlotte in that, cos they are older than us, sort of hung back so that we could do some serious shopping without too much hassle. Daddy’s job was to flex his credit card as I was too young to have one. I could have taken cash but our security divas both said with one voice that young girls flashing the cash would get us more noticed.

We sort of started at one end with the intention of getting to the other eventually. There were loads of shops to try and I found myself soon getting used to the inside of girls changing rooms. We tried on countless dresses, skirts and tops and I soon got fed up with getting in and out of jeans all the time. I could see that Claire, who was wearing similar clothes to me, but not so nice–meooow–was feeling the same, so we both bought skirts, black above the knee ones and then wore them out of the shop. The jeans were put into carrier bags and we sweet talked our minders into getting them to carry them and all the other bags we were certainly going to get in the very near future–well if you have minders, you need to get them to multi task!

We bought some tops, skirts and other essentials like undies, nighties, tights and stuff, but I still hadn’t found the dress.

We had decided rather reluctantly on my part that what with everything going on today and tomorrow, with our mega shopping trip today and a photo shoot and appearing live on Sky TV tomorrow, that we would put off my party until the day after that. I only had a mini hissy fit over it, because even I saw the sense of it in the end. Anyway, I still needed a posh frock so our quest was far from over.

I had been aware for some time that I was being pointed at by one or two people and one boy actually came up to me, just as we were going to a shoe shop–

He tapped me on the shoulder. I looked down, he must have been about ten.

‘Sorry miss, you are her, aren’t you?’

‘Who,’ I asked.

‘Markie.’

‘Erm, I’m not Markie any more I’m Susan.’

‘Oh, yeah, right, sorry, can I have your autograph, Ma–I mean, Susan.’

He shoved a dirty piece of paper in my face and a ball point pen. I quickly signed my name and handed it back to him.

‘Thanks–this is great; my mates at school won’t believe this!’

I managed to get away at last when his mum came up, giggled like a little girl and pulled him away. Some people are funny!

Claire and I continued our impression of a locust feeding frenzy by trying and buying lots more things. Shoes, tops, tights, bags, makeup, the list was endless.

I had spoken to Claire early that morning about shopping and as we walked in and out of countless shops, I was reminded of our conversation. We were both propped up on her bed in our jimmy-jams, watching cartoons on the TV. Claire got out her purse and was working out how much she could spend.

‘There’s a nice top I saw in Top Shop the other day, twenty pounds, I think I can like, afford that.’

I looked at her.

‘Is that all you have to spend?’ I asked.

‘Yes, things are like, a bit tight what with Mummy and everything.’

‘I’ve plenty of money now, so you can use some of that.’

She looked at me and then said quietly. ‘No, thanks.’

She then got up and left me.

‘Claire–’ I said to her retreating back.

I was a bit puzzled, I only wanted to help and I just loved giving things to the people that I love and she came close to the top in my book.

I switched the TV off and went in search of her. I needed to apologise but I wasn’t sure why.

I couldn’t find her but I did find Mummy when I went into the nursery. She was changing the girls, or trying too.

‘Oh there you are, Susan, could you be an angel and help with the nappies?’

‘Sure, Mummy,’ I said as I picked up one wriggler, I think it was Poppy, while she took the other.

Soon the little angels were clean and dry again and playing, giggling and gurgling in the lobster pot. I had never seen such contented little ones as these and wondered how long it would take for them turn into The Evil Ones.

I helped clean up the old nappies and other stuff. When we were done, we looked down at the twins as they waved their arms about and played with their mobile.

I gazed at Mummy’s smiling face. ‘C—can I talk about something?’

‘Of course love, what is it?’ She looked at me with a slight frown.

‘I think I've upset Claire.’

‘What happened?’

I explained the conversation that I had with Claire in her bedroom and her subsequent sudden exit. Just then, Mrs Moon came in.

‘Hello, Mrs M.’ I said.

‘What’s wrong with you, Miss Susan? You look like you’ve lost a pound and found a penny.’

‘Oh, just stuff,’ I said shrugging.

Mummy and Mrs Moon sort of looked at each other and did one of those telepathy things, no doubt something about coping with teenage angst, as Mummy steered me out of the room leaving Mrs Moon to watch over the kiddywinks.

We went into the breakfast room. I like this room because it has long wide windows and it overlooks the garden. We sat in two of the deep armchairs and Mummy looked at me strangely.

‘What?’ I said.

‘You don’t understand, do you?’

‘About what?’

‘Claire thinks that you are trying to give her charity and she’s a proud person. She doesn’t want to sponge off you.’

‘Sponge, I don’t understand. I’m well off–got more money than I know what to spend on–and I just love being there for Claire, Andrew and their Mum. I don’t call it charity; I call it being the best friend I can be. I know I’m in a privileged position and I’m going to help as many charities as I can but this is not charity. I want to be there for my family and I consider Claire and Andrew family and their mum too.’

She came and gave me a hug as I was getting a bit weepy–I did that a lot, now I was a fully paid up member of “girlhood”.

‘Oh, honey, I know you’re only thinking of others and that’s sweet of you, but how would you feel if you had nothing and Claire had loadza money and she offered to do what you have done.’

‘I—I don’t know.’ I said, getting an inkling of what she was getting at. ‘Look mummy, I know that Claire isn’t a hanger on and Andrew, I know the he would love to have some new dresses–’

‘What!’

‘Oh, bugger!’

‘Susan, don’t swear like that. What’s this about Andrew? Is there something I ought to know?’

‘No, sorry, I can’t say anything.’

She looked at me for a long time and then nodded. Strangely, she didn’t say anything more about Andrew but she still had a lot to say about Claire.

‘Claire’s a proud person, under that exterior she knows that her mum is still very ill and money’s tight. She hates the idea of sponging off you––’

‘–As I said before, she isn’t sponging off me, I want her here–she’s my sister in all but name–and I love her almost as much as I love Andrew–ooops, I’ve done it again.’

She shook her head impatiently.

‘Everyone including Mr and Mrs Moon and probably the twins know that you two are an item. You can’t go looking at a person all gooey like that, for everyone not to notice that you two are head over heels in love with each other, but never mind that, what are you going to do about Claire.’

‘I don’t know!’ I cried.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes and then she cleared her throat. ‘How big is your fan site now?’

‘I don’t know, but it’s getting huge, especially now that I’m a girl.’

‘And how much fan mail do you get.’

‘Loads, the postman brought a sackful yesterday morning; I should think he nearly had a hernia, poor man. I just haven’t got time to look at anything.’

Mummy looked smug–I hate it when she looks smug. ‘I’ve got an idea–’

So here I was in the shopping centre looking at all the fab clothes with my personal assistant and chief bottle washer–Claire. She was a bit reluctant to take on the job at first, but when Mummy explained that I couldn’t do everything and all my devoted fans would lose out if letters weren’t answered and stuff, she came around and she was now an official member of Susan Hurst and Co.

She had a reasonable salary and Daddy, being my business manager as well as being ever so cuddly has advanced her next month’s wages so that she could blow it all on a spending spree with little old me.

After spending mega bucks on the ground floor, we decided that we needed to refill our tanks, so we went up to the Atrium to have a drink and a sticky bun. Several people, mainly children, boys and girls came over and I did the autograph thing. I was really surprised that I was being recognised but hadn’t realised while I was hiding in my room for all those days that my picture as Susan had been widely circulated in all the media.

Over to the side was a huge screen that played videos, had adverts and stuff to do with the shopping centre.

Daddy, Danni and Charlotte were sitting at one table, surrounded by bags of goodies whilst Claire and I were at another one with just a few bags. We were sucking at our cokes through straws and devouring our buns as if we hadn’t eaten for several weeks.

Glancing up at the screen, I could see that there was a video of Jonas Brothers singing Take a Breath. I was humming along, not taking much notice of Claire as she was wittering on about getting her hair dyed yet another colour and I was thinking about my Andrew. I had bought him a lovely skirt and blouse and hoped that I could get him–or rather her–to try it on tonight. I loved it when Andrea came out to play! I wondered if Mummy would say anything about my slip up to him, I hadn’t had the chance to warn him that I had put my foot in it up to my neck.

Just then, I was snapped back to the present as a video of Melchester United came up on the screen; it was a highlight of a match we played against Cranley and I went hot in the face when I saw my goal against them. Looking around, I could see everyone looking at the screen. I just wanted to go under the table and hide. Claire had a grin on her face that I would just love to wipe off. Anyway, I continued to watch it to the bitter end, where I managed to curve the ball around the keeper and score the goal.

Anyone would have thought that it was a live game the way some of the people, especially kids shouted at the sight of the goal. Then it happened: I saw myself running back up the pitch, arms in the air as my team mates tried to catch me up, then things went into slow motion. Some sort of CGI trick was used as before my very eyes, Mark’s face morphed into Susan’s, complete with long flowing hair and makeup. The only redeeming thing was that I was still in the Melchester strip and not some sort of flowing, girlie gown.

At the end, a voiceover in a suave and sexy male voice announced––

‘–Yes, Mark is now Susan, every bit the talented footballer she has always been. Come and see us and her at our next cup match against Thornby on the 23rd–history in the making…’

The screen froze on my face smiling into the camera. I didn’t know where the photo came from, but I just wanted the ground to open up so I could be swallowed by it. But I wasn’t given the chance as the people who had seen me arrive and had not realised who I was, now clicked that I was Susan Hurst and I became more or less totally mobbed.

After a few minutes of signing more autographs and trying to answer a barrage of questions, Donni and Charlotte together with Daddy, hustled Claire and I away and down a service lift that led to the car parks below.

As we got out of the lift we were met by a man in a suit. Daddy recognised him.

‘Mr Davidson, what the hell is going on?’

He looked a bit embarrassed, but just said, ‘Sorry, I don’t understand.’ He kept looking me up and down in a way that made me feel more than a little uncomfortable.

‘Donni, Charlotte, can you get the girls into the car please?’

We were moved away and rapidly found ourselves in the back of the car. We looked out of the rear window and I could see Daddy throwing a wobbly with the greasy–or is that oily–manager?

‘Like, wow,’ said Claire, breathlessly, ‘do I like, get danger money working for you?’

‘Ha, bloody ha.’ I said, continuing to watch Daddy nearly having a stroke or something, shouting and jumping up and down and–I imagined–on the verge of wetting himself.

Eventually, he came back to the car, got in and slammed the door. He was breathing heavily and didn’t seem capable of lucid speech. Both Claire and I had calmed down a bit now, being in the safety of the car, but Daddy was mumbling to himself as he started the engine and then followed the 4X4 out of the car park and into the street.

‘D—Daddy, are you all right?’

He looked at my face in the mirror and took a few deep breaths.

‘Sorry about that, girls–we were set up.’

‘Set up?’ said Claire.

‘Yes, as I told you earlier, I rang the manager while Susan was at training confirming a conversation I had with him a few days ago. I really didn’t want to have any difficulty parking and there was also a security issue, walking through a poorly lit car park where there may be danger, so Danni suggested finding out if arrangements could be made to park in a more secure area. When I spoke to the manager he was very nice about it and said that arrangements would be made for us. What I didn’t realise was that he didn’t just want to have his picture taken with you, he wanted to arrange it so you were ‘discovered’ at a place to suit him. He must have realised that you would need a break from shopping at some point and then he ‘arranged’ for a promotional film, that hasn’t been passed by me, John Prentiss, the club or you, Susan, to be shown on that bloody great screen and not only that screen but several more dotted around the shopping Centre.’

‘Oh no.’ I said in horror.

‘Yes, you would have been mobbed wherever you went and no doubt that creep had photographers at strategic places–the things some scumbags do to get free advertising. I told him that our lawyers will be talking to his company over the next few days and he didn’t like the sound of that as he asked if I was threatening him and I told him no, I was promising him.’

‘H—how did he get that promotional film?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know, but I will find out if I have to tear the publicity company and him apart personally, with my bare hands.’

When we arrived home, we carried our purchases up to our rooms. We didn’t say much because it had been a hard day and I must admit, I was well and truly knackered.

I lay on my bed and cuddled my white rabbit. Staring at the ceiling, I wondered if I would ever harden myself to the fact that I was now a marked person, public property and someone who could be used or even abused like I had been today. It wasn’t only me: Claire was as white as a sheet when we got home and I think that she was seriously frightened. Thank goodness that we had our security people there. Up to now, I hadn’t been sure if we needed any sort of protection. But now, I felt very different. Even as a boy, I’d have felt very vulnerable in that situation, as a girl, I was petrified.

My thoughts were interrupted when there was a quiet knock on the door.

‘Come in,’ I called. The door opened and Andrew poked his head around the corner. I sat up brushed the hair from my eyes and looked at him.

‘Hi, Andrew.’

He came in, shut the door, and coming to me, sat on the bed and opened his arms. We hugged for ages and I’m afraid that I got his sleeve a bit wet as I was leaking somewhat. After a while, I felt better again.

‘Are you all right now?’ Andrew asked, looking at me with concern.

‘Mmm.’ I sniffed, ‘Better now that you’re here.’

‘I told you I should have come with you,’ he said with mock severity.

‘Only because you wanted to try on some girlie clothes.’

‘Not true–well a wee bit, but I wanted to be with you.’

‘I know, honey. Maybe soon you can come with us.’

‘Yes, but I would need to tell my mum about me.’

‘Doesn’t she know?’

‘No, I haven’t screwed up the courage to tell her–I don’t want her to think that I’m a disappointment to her.’

‘She won’t think that. She’s lovely.’

‘Do you think?’

‘Yes I do…but, Andrew, I have to ’fess up to something.’

‘What?’

‘I—I—I told Mummy about you–it—it just sort of slipped out about how you would love to have some new dresses––’

I explained the conversation as he sat there open-mouthed.

‘I am sorry, Andrew.’

‘I’ve seen her lots today while you were out, but she didn’t say anything.’

‘Perhaps she won’t. She probably thinks that it’s your own private thing.’

‘Maybe–’ he said, sounding unconvinced.

‘Anyway,’ I said brightly, ‘I’ve bought you a prezzie!’

‘Me? Why?’

‘Because I wanted to and anyway it was to make up for your not going shopping–mind you, it was a good job you did miss it because it didn’t exactly go as planned–anyway, shut your eyes and open your hands.’ He did as I asked, looking a bit confused and apprehensive.

I grabbed one of the carrier bags, took it to him and put it in his hands.

‘You may open your eyes now.’

I sat next to him on the bed and he did as I asked and then looked first at the bag and then me.

‘Go on, then, have a look.’

He opened the bag and pulled out the black skirt and cream blouse. He stood up and went to the mirror first holding the blouse up and then the skirt.

‘Oh thank you, Susan, they are gorgeous.’

‘That’s all right, do you like the colours?’ I asked as I went to him.

‘Mmm, just right, I’d love to try them on.’

‘Why don’t you?’

‘All right–no, I can’t. I have to go and see mum, she wanted to talk to me about school, Look, what are you doing tomorrow?’

‘Some sort of photo shoot and a couple of interviews, why?’

‘Well it would be nice to try some things on and you can give me a fashion show of the things you bought today.’

‘Well, I should be finished by mid afternoon; perhaps we can do something after that, mind you I still haven't got anything to wear for my party so I will have to sort something out; maybe we can talk about it later?’

‘Great, well I’ve gotta go now. D’you feel a bit better?’

‘Yes, a kiss and a cuddle is better than any medicine!’

He came and gave me a lovely kiss, I wished we could do more, because I really felt the need, but we had to be strong and sensible and boring stuff like that, so after a final, toe curling kiss, he went off to talk to his mum.

Claire and I ended the evening watching a chick flick and eating Maltesers on my bed. We were both wearing beautiful new satin nighties and I adored the luxurious feeling of the fabric against my smooth skin. We did our finger and toe nails in a sort of coral colour while we watched and tried very hard not to get the varnish on the bedding or our nighties. Anyway, after all that hard work, we were both quite tired and dropped off before the film had finished.

When I awoke the following morning, Claire wasn’t there and I was in bed rather than lying on top, so I supposed that Mummy or Daddy must have done the necessary sometime last night. Checking my bedside clock, I discovered it was seven thirty. I yawned and then stretched. Getting out of my warm bed sucked a bit to say the least, but I wanted to go for a run and I had sort of half said to Danni yesterday that I was going for a run this morning.

After putting on my trackies, I went downstairs and there was Danni, looking sickeningly healthy and raring to go.

We ran down to the canal and did our five mile circuit. As usual, Danni seemed not to be breathing very hard and I was puffing away like I was a fifty cigarettes-a-day-girl. I was getting fitter though, because I felt that we were definitely going faster on our runs now.

When we arrived back, I was glowing–as girls don’t actually sweat according to Claire, but what would she know, as she had never willingly put on a running shoe in her life.

The rest of the household had risen by the time we returned, and after my shower and a change of clothes into a skirt and top, I sat down with the others for a hurried breakfast. Daddy was continually checking his watch as he wanted to get on the road, before the traffic built up around the city centre.

First of all, we were going to a photographic studio for a photo shoot for La Chic magazine. I had been told not to bother about makeup, hair or anything as everything would be sorted out when we arrived at the studio. I had put my hair in high a pony tail so that was easy enough.

After goodbyes to everyone, we were soon on our way. I was sitting in the front with Daddy and Danni was in the back. Charlotte was still in bed, lucky thing, as she was on the night shift. It was still a bit strange having people looking after me like this but after yesterday’s problems, I was kind of glad that I had help for when I needed it.

We arrived at the studio in good time and I was whisked away by Tracy, the makeup girl. Now I in my naíve innocence, thought that doing a photo shoot would be easy, but it’s not, it’s very hard work. I didn’t have any time to see how good or bad I looked in the three hours that I was there. I must have had makeup reapplied and changed about ten times. I was put in all sorts of dresses, tops, skirts, cropped Capris and all manner of styles.

Henry Irving, the photographer, was a lovely man; he was using a Hasselblad with a digital magazine so I could see the results immediately on his MacBook Pro. He was so easy to work with, with his showing me how I should look, repositioning me constantly, getting me to smile, look sad, happy, athletic, sophisticated–I laughed at that one and gave him the one shot that he had really looking for to appear on the front cover of the next edition. As I was wearing a rather yummy black taffeta cocktail dress with frothy petticoats, I hoped that it would look good enough for him.

Eventually, we finished. Tracy kindly re-did my makeup for me prior to my changing into the clothes that I would wear for the interview with Sky. It was explained that the makeup girl at Sky would touch up my face where needed and make sure that I would look okay for the harsh TV lights. I was wearing was a stunning Monsoon silk and lace appliqué dress with pretty lace detail and it was lightly boned at the bust, it gave my figure a nice shape and showed what assets I could muster to the best advantage. I hadn’t chosen the dress, a nice lady from the TV station suggested that I wear it when she came over a few days earlier for a sort of run through of what was going to happen.

As soon as we arrived at the studio, we parked in a space reserved for guests and I soon found myself in another makeup room. Angelina was the makeup girl this time and she tinkered about with my look before declaring herself satisfied before I was shown into the green room–a sort of hospitality room where guests could relax while waiting to be called up.

I went to a small bar area and got myself a coke. I still couldn’t believe the sensations I felt wearing gorgeous clothing like this. The feel of the dress as it brushed up against my nylon encased legs, my hair brushing gently on my bare shoulders, the heels, a daring two inches–for me that was daring–the sensation of my pert breasts as they nestled comfortably in their silk enclosure; it was all wonderful and made me feel very girlie. I did feel a bit over-dressed as this sort of thing was usually worn to a swish party, but I had been told that it was normal to glam up a bit for these interviews, so who was I to argue?

Looking at my reflection and the smile on my face, I looked for any sign of Mark. Yes, I was there, as I always had and always will be, but this was Mark out of the chrysalis, I had been a caterpillar and now I was a butterfly. Looking at my reflection sideways, I was wondering if my bum was getting bigger–?

The door opened, Daddy and John Prentiss came in.

‘You look lovely,’ Daddy said; rather proudly, I thought.

‘Yes, a vision,’ John added.

I did a twirl and looked at the men. ‘You like?’

The nods and smiles said it all.

We sat down on the sofas and chatted for a bit.

‘So,’ said John after sipping some coffee. ‘feeling nervous?’

‘Mmm, very, I’m glad you two are here, but I’ll have to go out by myself, I suppose. You can’t come and hold my hand, Daddy?’

‘I would love to, honey, but they don’t want to an ugly old man like me, they want to see the glamorous football star.’

‘Daddy, you are not old–well not very old anyway and you are very good looking too.’

‘Thanks for those kind words, I think. Anyway, they want to see you–not me.’

‘I suppose,’ I said, looking at my feet, were my ankles, slim enough? I wondered, distractedly. Shaking my head and trying to rid myself of such silly thoughts, I looked at John.

‘Were they pleased with the photo shoot?’

‘Yes, Henry Irving said that you were a natural and if you wanted to give up football, he thinks that you would make a great model.’

‘No thanks, I prefer football and anyway, don’t you need to be size zero or whatever to be a successful model?’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ John said. ‘Anyway, we’ll stick to football for now. Changing the subject, Jeff has told me what happened at the shopping centre and my legal team are going to make the owners and that so-called manager very uncomfortable. Also, we need to find out, how the hell they got hold of that promo film; I’m beginning to wonder if there is some sort of conspiracy going on here and we need to get to the bottom of it.’

‘What d’you mean?’ I asked.

‘We’ll talk about it later, but all you have to do is go on, be your normal charming self and wow your audience.’

A technician came and fitted me with a tiny radio microphone that was clipped rather close to my cleavage. By now, I was getting a bit wound up. I didn’t know what the audience was going to be for the interview with Mike Knowles, but I did know that it was a live transmission in the UK and the recording would be networked to other countries including the USA and Canada. I tried not to think about the millions that would be watching–and listening to every word I uttered, and hoped against hope that I would not make a fool of myself.

Glancing towards the drinks bar, I almost wondered whether I should have a bit of Dutch courage, but remembered seeing an interview of an old famous player once where he was drunk on set and I really didn’t want to do that.

The door opened and a young girl wearing a headset came in with a clipboard.

‘Susan,’ she said brightly, ‘it’s time.’

I stood up, gave Daddy and John quick hugs and the followed the girl out. She prattled on about how she supported Melchester and that it was about time that girls made men look stupid on the playing field, when we came to a brightly lit back stage. Through a gap, I could see Mike Knowles sitting on a chair with a coffee table in front of him. Almost opposite him were a few other chairs, for his guests. The girl had her hand on my shoulder while she was having some sort of conversation through a small microphone attached to her headset. I couldn’t hear what she was saying and I only had eyes for Mike Knowles who was talking about me.

‘My next guest is the youngest football player ever to play in the Premier League. As Mark Hurst, he stunned us with his brilliant play and wonderful goals. Then he had a horrific accident on the playing field and when in hospital afterwards it was discovered that he is, in fact, a she. Susan Hurst will be playing football at the highest level in the game alongside such stars as Lepe and Ogsood. How does she feel about this and is she able to cope with the lifestyle that has been thrust upon her? Please welcome Susan Hurst––’

After being given a gentle push, I emerged into the brilliantly lit studio. I could hear clapping and the Melchester theme tune in the background but I couldn’t see the audience because they were in the gloom. Mike had stood up and was waiting for me with a smile on his face. I was very conscious of what I was wearing and almost terrified about slipping over on my heals and making an idiot of myself.

Somehow, I walked the ten miles to Mike; we air kissed and he motioned me to a seat. Looking at him I was a bit surprised: he was wearing a lot of makeup and close too, he was older than I had thought he was. Anyway I tried to concentrate on what he said.

‘Well, Susan, judging by the audience’s reaction, you are a very popular young lady. What do you think of stardom?’

I cleared my throat took a deep breath and answered him.

‘W—well Mike, it’s strange. I both like it and don’t like it at the same time. I enjoy the fact that I give people pleasure when I play–well, hopefully–but I don’t like being in the public eye all the time with everything that I say or do being scrutinised. It’s the price I have to pay I suppose for doing something I love–’

The questions went on for about ten minutes and I was getting more relaxed, almost forgetting the audience as it was almost like just having a chat with a friend on a sofa.

‘How did you feel when you found out that you were a girl rather than a boy?’

‘I never really felt like a boy. Oh I dressed like one when I had to and I did boyish things, but inside–where it matters–I always had a feeling that something was wrong and when I could, I dressed as a girl. My step father didn’t like it but my mum tolerated it. Then things went wrong and I had to leave home. My mum, d—died and then things just seemed to happen–’

I could feel a tear running down my cheek, I should have kept quiet about my feelings but this man and his soft questions had given me a false sense of security, I suppose.

‘Well, I can see that you’re upset, Susan, so we’ll leave talk over those other unpleasant things for another time. There have been certain elements of the press that have not been wholehearted in their support for you; how do you feel about that?’

‘Sad really; I haven’t done anything to hurt anyone, so why people like Mister Ferris would want to say things like that, I don’t know.’

‘Do you think that you will be accepted by other players?’

‘I hope so, all my team mates have been very nice about it and the best compliment that they have given me is treating me as one of the lads. I can prove that with the bruises I have on my shin from playing in a practice match the other day.’

The audience laughed at that as Mike seemed distracted; I think that he was listening into an earpiece as the audience clapped. He gave a small nod and then as things had quietened down again, he turned to me.

‘You’ve been criticised by one player in particular, Tom Johansson; what do you think about his comments?’

‘Sad really. I think he’s a great player but I don’t know why he wanted to attack me in the press like that.’

‘Well let’s find out, shall we? Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Manethorpe’s Swedish international goalkeeper, Tom Johansson,’

My mouth opened as the big goalie came in and after being welcomed by Mike, sat down beside me.

I was furious. Looking at Mike I became instantly aware that this had been well rehearsed beforehand and that I had been well and truly set up.

I stood up and Mike appeared to be surprised.

‘I wasn’t told that he was going to be here?’ I protested

‘He was a last minute guest––’

‘–I bet. I’m going now.’

I strode out the back. Daddy was there looking as angry as I felt, and John Prentiss was shouting down the ’phone at someone.

The perky girl with the clipboard said something but I just ignored her and stormed back into the green room, leaving Daddy and John to sort things out.

I went over to the bar and poured myself another coke with shaky hands. I was too bloody angry to be tearful but knew as sure as eggs are eggs, that I would need an exceptionally good cry later on.

Daddy came in and sat beside me.

‘Oh Susan, I’m so sorry.’

‘Why are you sorry Daddy, you didn’t know?’

‘I should be protecting you, not doing this to you. It was a setup. It looks like they were hiding Tom Johansson away so that they could surprise you with his sudden appearance.’

I was looking at the large screen over against the wall, the sound was quite low but I could see Tom Johansson looking disgustingly smug. He was gesticulating and saying something. I stood up and went nearer the screen, trying to hear what he was saying.

‘–so I think that she should not be playing with men, she isn’t built for it and would expect to have special consideration by refs––’

I was still absolutely infuriated and I wasn’t taking that sort of crap from him. Without saying a single word to Daddy who was on his ’phone to someone, I stormed out, along the corridor to the narrow entrance leading to the studio floor. Clipboard Girl was there, but I just stormed past her and on to the floor. Forgetting stage fright, the audience and the watching millions, I strode over to Mike and Tom; Mike, stopped in mid-sentence and looked up with surprise as I seated myself next to Tom and smiled.

‘Sorry about that, I had to go and use the little girl’s room. So, Tom, what was that you were saying about me?’

---

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, making suggestions that I hadn't even thought of and pulling the story into shape.