A semi autobiographical story about a youngster who crosses the fence because of PAIS. I've writen about 5 or 6 pieces of this and will try to finish it in about 7 or 9 pieces. Here's piece number one
“Nige?… when did you first start shaving?”
A gruff voice from the shower where my older brother resides daily for twenty minutes returns a merry, “about 12 why? Still a razor virgin eh, you little wimp?”
“OK Mr Clint Eastwood — just coz you reckon to be God’s gift” I rinsed the razor and replaced it in the medicine cabinet, not knowing that the first time I would use it would be to denude my legs of the fine downy bumfluff that covered it like gossamer…
I felt wretched, would I never grow up? — would I never have a voice that commanded respect?
I returned to the bedroom and dressed for school — Boy’s Public School — uniform, hated by every boy since 1893 — in this particular school anyway since that was when it was built. Grey flannel trousers and a grey shirt black blazer with red piping red and black tie…. And, thank God we no longer had to wear them after 1st year, a cap that looked like a cricketer’s nightmare.
A voice wafted up the stairs, “Nigel, Jerry, if you’re not down in five minutes, the dog gets your breakfast!”
“Rusty doesn’t like porridge, so your bluff is called mum!” I shrilled back down…
“Less backchat or you’re biking to school and it’s pouring down”
I looked in the mirror again as I brushed my hair and I suddenly focused on the picture on the wall behind my reflection — Karen Carpenter — I realised while my hair was all over the side before I swept it back into a low slung pony tail that I actually looked like her… I was stunned, unable to move til I heard my brother thunder down the stairs like a herd of buffalo — which considering he only had the regulation two legs, was quite a feat — or should that be feet?
If I was any more tardy the porridge would be engulfed by Mr Garbage Bin and I would see only the bottom of the dish.
As mum dropped us off at school, Nigel headed off to the upper sixth form block and I saw him no more that day.
I did however take time to look at myself during morning break — in the scarred and damp scoured mirror that lined the toilet block wall above the sink.
I looked no worse, in fact I reckon I was looking pretty good until I realised that my nemesis was watching from the door..
“Coo, Jerry has a vain streak, perhaps we could help him out with his looks eh?” he called to his cronies, but he backed off as a couple of sixth formers pushed him out of the way and separated him from his support group. He knew that my brother was a prefect and understood the penalty for bullying was severe at this school — he only got to use his mouth and he wasn’t particularly adept at that.
My mind was in a funk, I had twice looked at myself and found that for some reason, I looked like a girl. Hey I was no buff he-man like my brother, but I was average height and rakish I suppose you’d call it — 5’7” and skinny… about 100lbs soaking wet — but it was wiry I told myself, ‘I wasn’t a weed…was I?’ I thought…nah.
When I got home that evening I realised I had spent nearly all day wondering what was happening to me — or rather, what had already happened. I took off my uniform and slid into my jeans and a black sloppy Tshirt — with Led Zeppelin on the front. I didn’t actually like it but I felt I had to show as much teenage angst as possible… and Led Zeppelin was about as awful as I could bear.
I took the band off my hair as I sat at my dresser and let it fall over my shoulders and brushed the kinks out, as I usually did, and slowly oh so slowly I realised that as I brushed, I looked in the mirror and I appeared more and more female — not in a dreamlike sense, but in a real recognition of who I really was, a skinny guy with nice hair, or a slim girl with small hands and long fingers. No acne marred my complexion, no Adam’s Apple sat in my throat, my hair draped like silk over large soft brown eyes. I felt the stinging in my eyes that precedes tears and turned from the mirror to avoid looking into my own eyes…., “Christ, I’m a girl; what do I do now?” I couldn’t escape what I had seen, and I knew that my life was about to change, for what I realised then, I had always known, that ever since I could remember I had not liked who I was, or more really what I was, a boy, a misfit, a gawky geek with no friends.
That day in the mirror I had seen me for the first time and I knew that I was about to become everyone’s worst nightmare, a thing hated by all those who called themselves normal, someone who identified with the opposite sex. I wasn’t yet going to put my words to it because I knew that to do that would be to admit defeat and even though I knew, I was frightened — as frightened as anyone who realises that they hold a secret that will affect lives
Day 2
I sped to school on my bike the next day — a full 30 minutes early — a first in the annals of the family name.
I had had an awful night and had risen with the dawn and showered and changed almost before anyone else had even stirred. I didn’t want them to see me, I didn’t really want to see myself — I knew I was already moving away from where I had been the day before — I felt different — I knew something that no one else did and they would be able to tell. They can always tell — mothers that is, they sense it from another room even, so I kissed mum goodbye before she’d really woken.
“I have to finish my homework so I’ll get to school early and do it in the classroom before the bell” was my excuse for leaving like a tsunami was on my tail. Mum called after me. “I’d like to know what you were doing last night when you were supposed to be doing your homework?”… I took it as a rhetorical question and ignored it.
My real reason for the early start was to see the school nurse — who else could I turn to — who else could I trust? I’d been to see her every year for my jabs and stuff and she was always bright and cheerful and most importantly, she was approachable. I had thought about it all night and I’d sweated and tossed and turned in my bed and overcome my fear. I knew I was different, I needed to know how much.
I racked my bike and slipped into the clinic at the side of the school hoping no one I knew was in there — in a school of 600 boys, you get to know a lot, but not that many.
It looked like I was in luck, just the secretary and a load of empty seats met my eyes as I ‘casually’ stepped into the waiting room.
“Yes young man? Do you have an appointment?” The secretary peered over her glasses trying to appear efficient but looking more like a waspish school marm from the previous century.
“No, I just need a few minutes with the nurse, I need to ask her a few questions, if that’s alright?” I hoped she would enquire no further, I was wrong.
“And what would that be about?” she shot me a stare as if to say “out with it, out with it, boy”
In panic to delay the moment, I stammered, “didn’t anyone tell you,--- you sh-shouldn’t start a sentence with a conjunction?”
“That’ll be quite enough of that, what’s your name and what class are you in? I need to get your file”.
“J Holland miss, Lower 5y,” I added quickly to defuse the situation, I didn’t need her to be an enemy if things were to go as smoothly as I needed. She seemed to have forgotten the impertinent exchange. One to me…
“I have Jerry Holland here for you nurse” she spoke into the intercom.
“Send him in”
The secretary marched in front of me and passed the file to the nurse after ushering me into her office.
“Sit down Jerry, what seems to be the problem?”
“Well, I need some help,” I advanced, I was about to change my life and I felt a bit dizzy with the rush of blood I was now feeling — ‘I wonder how much adrenalin I just fed into my system in the last ten minutes,’ I thought blankly.
“Oh, have you hurt yourself or does this come under the realms of growing up? You look a little pale” She came round the desk and grabbed my wrist before I could answer and started to take my pulse. She looked at me sharply.
“Are you on drugs? Your pulse is going like a steam train”
“N-no, it’s nothing like that” Her face relaxed and she went back and sat at the lounge seat by the coffee table — I sensed she had just turned my nurse’s appointment into a counsellor’s one.
“So tell me, how can I help you?” She offered, pointing me to the chair nearer the coffee table, a more comfortable easy chair rather than the hard wooden one by the desk.
“I don’t really know how to say this”, I started. My mind starting to jumble all the best efforts of the explanations I had devised during the deep of the night.
I suddenly pulled an idea out of the air and tugged the band from my pony tail and shook my hair loose.
The look on the nurse’s face was one of surprise followed by a tenderness that I had never seen except on my mother’s face when I fell down the stairs and opened up my head on the chair at the bottom… “Oh my goodness, that looks very different. Tell me what you think about what you just showed me”. The nurse was canny and had given nothing away.
“Well, I think you got the picture when my hair fell forward, I am turning into a girl aren’t I?
“What makes you say that?”
I held up my hand and marked off the fingers, “Well I’m 15, and I haven’t started to shave or anything , my voice hasn’t broken and I’m just about the shortest and lightest guy in the class.--” I had started to realise just how different I was as I noted the discrepancies in my peer group.
“Well at 15 it doesn’t mean much, but it can make you feel like you’re not making the grade, I expect.”
“Well I’m not terribly good at team sports either — probably because I couldn’t stop a Chihuahua with a sore leg.” The nurse grinned and told me that there’s “not many sports that allow dogs on the team, especially handicapped like that.” I felt the tension ease a little.
“So what do you think we can do about this?” She continued to ferret at my conscience and my self perception.
“Aren’t there some tests we can do or something to see what is happening?”
“Well ok, lets do a physical to start with so we know where we are at the moment,”
I gulped and nodded not trusting my voice.
She looked at me and said quietly “don’t worry, no matter what we find, it won’t get past this door and I won’t write anything in your records until we’re sure about where we’re heading OK?”
I nodded and smiled, inside the churning abated somewhat…a line from ‘the Scarlett Pimpernel’ emerged from somewhere “Stap me vitals” it felt just like some one had !
“Right lets get you stripped off, would you like to go behind the curtain or just drop em right there?” She grinned and made light of my embarrassment. I stripped right there as she popped her head round the door and spoke to the secretary “30 minutes, no interruptions OK?” A murmured assent was enough to confirm my privacy.
At the end of 30 mins she’d tested about everything that could be tested and I was sat there at the desk as she wrote up her notes on her personal diary “this is locked away and I have the only key”, she assured me.
“Ok I’ll tell you what we’ve discovered so far. It appears your testes haven’t ‘dropped’ yet and that is indicative of your not reaching puberty yet. The other signs of puberty are also absent.
I have taken blood samples which will be analysed at the local hospital and I will write your parents a letter when I have all the data back from them. I don’t expect any changes in the two weeks which it will take to get them but if you feel the need to come and see me — please feel free — I’ll let the secretary know that you have priority. Is that OK?”
I felt stunned, “does that mean I’m going to turn into a girl then?” my head was spinning and I felt sick.
“Do you want to?” she looked at me as I squirmed without answering and allowed me to relax before she continued. “At the moment, nothing is certain, nothing is odd, just that you’re a bit late with your puberty, the blood tests will show up any other problems if they exist and I’ll let you know as soon as I can, Ok?”
“Yes nurse”
She wrote the time on a piece of paper — and signed it. “Right off you go to the next period, this’ll give you a clearance for being late”.
I felt worse than I did the day before, my future began to look like a bleak day on the moors — cold and without succour. My schoolwork that day reflected it.
Over the next two weeks I kept checking my nether regions wondering if my late start was going to happen or if it was the end of Jerry as we came to sort of know him…
I asked Nigel if he could remember when his balls dropped — “When I was about 7 “ he said grinning, “you got problems kiddo?”
I just looked back at him and smiled, “nah it’s just part of a survey on growing up we’re doing”, I lied …
Two weeks to the day as I appeared for Tuesday maths first period, the maths master intoned, “right, got a note here, er Jerry Holland, nurse wants to see you, off you go, don’t hang about, and don’t be long, you’re bad enough without taking time off”.
‘Typical’ I thought ‘I’m not in control here and I have to be back before I know how long I’ll be’.
I stepped into the clinic, and lo it was festooned with first year students — booster shots I guess… There were lights in the spare office so I guessed the local GP was doing them. I stepped up to the secretary who just pointed me to the nurse’s office “go right in Jerry” she said warmly — I got more of surprise then than I did from what the nurse said.
“Come in Jerry,” the nurse looked up and smiled, “take a seat” — I was going to say “I wouldn’t have them given” but I guessed the situation called for more gravity.
As I settled she flicked over a few pages and wrote in the margin of one or two. “Right, we need some more tests, and we need to speak to your folks,” I looked at her wide eyed with mounting fear, “nothing to worry about, but we need to make some decisions about your future,” she did her best to calm me, I didn’t respond…
“Am I dying?” I was gripping the edge of the chair to the point my knuckles were white.
“I’m so sorry Jerry, I shouldn’t have frightened you like that. No, you’re ok, very healthy, just a bit tardy physically as we thought. The blood tests showed up with about the normal levels of testosterone but there’s an enzyme missing which allows it to work, it’s causing what we call Partial Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome or PAIS which accounts for your lack of physical progress.”
I was not sure if that was a good thing — but I hoped it was curable….I asked…
“Is it curable?”
“Well we’ll organise some tests, but we need to know what you want to do with your life. We need to know whether you’re a boy or girl inside”
I felt the stinging behind my eyes again, “I don’t know who I am — I never did, I don’t feel like anyone but me,” tears formed in my eyes and slowly spilled over the bottom to run down my blotchy face — nurse passed the tissue box and tried to console me, “We’ll sort it out, don’t you worry, I’ve written a letter to your parents, is there anyone home at the moment?”
“Yeah my mum works from home, she’s a wedding planner”
“Have you discussed any of this with her?”
“Er, no, I hoped it wouldn’t amount to anything.”
“Well I want you to go back to your class with this note for Mr Gregson to tell him to cross you off for today. In the meantime I’ll ring your mum and tell her you’re on your way home — I want you to sit down with her and go over what I’ve written in the letter OK ? I’ll explain to her over the phone what it’s about”
“It’s serious isn’t it?” I looked at her with dread in my heart for the answer..
“Well, I won’t lie to you, it may change some things, but it’s not dangerous and I think you have a wonderful chance that everything will turn out well.”
It didn’t make me feel a whole lot better.
Week 3
I was so frightened of what my mum would say that I almost didn’t go home — but I knew the inevitable would be unavoidable so I submitted to the worst journey of my life — I felt like my bike was a tumbrel and my home the guillotine. (Author’s note: a “Tumbrel” is the carriage that took the nobles to Madame la Guillotine during the French Revolution)
As my key slid into the door mum opened it from inside and suddenly I was enveloped in a warm and loving embrace, “oh my darling., why didn’t you tell me?”
I almost never got the chance to say anything as I half suffocated, clasped as I was to her, she isn’t strong, but she was putting in some bicep effort.
Eventually I was released and she ushered me through to the kitchen and made some tea as I slipped off my school pack and my jacket.
I offered her the letter, which she took with a huge sigh, as if to say, ‘Ok lets see what we are in for’.
She read slowly and she then reread it as she sipped her tea eventually she sat down and read it again. I could sense her eyes glistening rather than see tears.
A few minutes passed and I finished my tea and poured us both another from the pot.
Mum’s lip was trembling a bit and she looked a bit pale — I started to feel sick.
“Tell me mum, tell me, the silence is killing me” the guillotine took another thump.
“Ok, we have to take you for some sort of Xrays and some more blood tests. Then we have to see a psychiatrist.”
“What the hell for? I’m not insane!” I was incensed — I was going to give that nurse what for later…
“Settle down Jerry, the shrink will be able to help you make some decisions, I will too, but I don’t know how to start.. oh God, what will your father say?”
“Decisions about what?” I was getting angry.
“Well it seems you have some choices here and you don’t, if as the blood tests show, that you aren’t responding to testosterone, then it’s likely that you never will, no matter how much they pump into you, and if that’s the case, you will grow up looking more like a girl as that’s sort of the ‘default’ situation.”
“We need to help you decide how to make a decision whether to live as an effeminate man or to undergo reassignment and grow up as a girl.
“REASSIGNMENT???” I stood up just as everything went a fuzzy white then black.
I awoke some thirty years/seconds later with a wet flannel on my brow and my head nestled in my mother’s arms on the kitchen floor…she was rocking back and forth and crying buckets, I reached up and touched her face, “It’s ok mum, honest, it was just such a shock”. I didn’t tell her that the shock wasn’t all bad.
We hugged and let it out for a few minutes then my bum was getting numb from the lino’ so I sat up and we reassembled ourselves.
We looked a sorry pair but we had suddenly bonded, I wondered if this is what being a girl was all about.
Nigel came home and imitating his usual buffalo herd raided the fridge and headed for his room to change… he didn’t notice the subdued pair sitting at the kitchen table.
We had spent the afternoon jotting down all the things we were going to have to do over the next few weeks — and what decisions I was going to be making.
The thing that headed the list was CONFIRMATION…
We needed a second opinion and some X-rays so mum had already phoned the hospital, she had been given a date so far down the road that would have been drawing my pension before the day of my x-ray dawned. So she made a plan of attack and asked the doctor to refer me for a suspected crack in my pelvis — due to a sports injury — and had got a next day appointment… crafty huh?
Being as how that was Wednesday, I realised I would have another day off school — which wasn’t so bad really as I hated Wednesdays — Rugby all afternoon — They still believe wars were won on the playing fields of England… the only wars I saw won were the ones waged against the weaker individuals. I know that it looked like a majority win but some of us were left just that little bit lower on the pecking order week by week. I think I was the only kid in school last year who never needed to wash his kit… I never ever went near the ball. I was the last to be picked in any team event — sure, I knew (I had assured myself) that meant they were saving the best til last, but it sucked just the same.
I sat in my bedroom that Tuesday evening, somehow everything was different. I knew I was heading down a road less gravelled — bumpier and more savage but ultimately more beautiful and more natural (for me anyway).
My father hadn’t been clued in as yet — but mum said she was going to talk to him when they were in bed. She said it would be ok — ‘dad would understand’. I was sitting here with just about every appendage and my eyes crossed that it was so.
I felt like my nerves were stretched and I was on the verge of sobbing my heart out — I was frightened beyond belief. Last month I was just another slightly underdeveloped kid in school, now I didn’t know if I was even in the right school.
A knock on the door made me jump back into the present, “can I come in?” Dad asked softly. My eyes felt like saucers in fear as he opened the door. I searched his face for some sign of his temper. He wasn’t an angry man or homophobic as far as I knew but he was dangerous once a moral line was crossed.
“How are you feeling?” he enquired gently as he sat by my side on the bed. I realised as he sat that I wasn’t even in bed — I was still sat on the edge — and had been for hours…on the edge…
“I’m ok, I guess, just anxious, I don’t really know what to think, what’s happening Dad?” I looked into his eyes, searching for an answer, he put out his arm and even though I hadn’t hugged him for nearly 6 years, I fell into his arms and burst into tears.
My father still loves me. I hugged him till my knuckles were white and I was all cried out — about 4 years by the feel of it — his pyjamas were wet.
When I had lapsed into the occasional hic and snuffle stage, he gently released me and uttered a profound truth, “Whoever you are and whatever you do, I will always love you. You are my child and I will do anything to ensure your right to pursue happiness and love whichever way suits you best.”
The pounding of my heart returned and I smiled at him, “where did you read that one?” I jibed.
“Actually, I said it from here,” he said touching his chest with his palm, “and I mean every word.”
“Good enough for me,” I said with a rueful smirk.
“Night son-er kiddo” he put his hand on my shoulder, “don’t forget to brush your teeth and don’t stay up too late, you need your beauty sleep,” suddenly he winced, “sorry, no offence.”
“None taken, night dad.’ That phrase about beauty sleep had been used by the family for years… it would never have the same connotation.
“Come on Jerry, you need to shower and make sure you put clean underwear on,” came distantly from the kitchen along with the smell of bacon — yum.
I shambled, half in sleep to the bathroom (a silly thought occupied my mind… I would put on dirty underwear? EEEww) where Nigel was just finishing up — he still had no idea what was going on… “morning Jeps, up late playing with yourself again? You should be wearing boxing gloves in bed.” Sibling jokes are disgusting first thing in the morning….
He left me to it and I finished my ablutions and joined him at the breakfast table 5 mins later — which is par for the course if you’re a 15 year old boy… I guess.
“Nigel, we’re having a family meeting tonight and you will be home at 6pm to attend Ok?” there was a business like sound to mum’s voice, Nigel looked at me curiously, I shrugged.
“Sure I’ll be home as per”.
He noticed I wasn’t dressed for school “hey, how come Jerry isn’t going to school?” God, anyone would think that I wanted this interruption to my life.
“Never you mind, just make sure you’re home at 6.”
We ate our bacon and beans. I thought of “Blazing Saddles” and pitied Nigel’s classmates this morning.
…………………
There are few things as evocative as a hospital smell, they speak of birth and death, illness, trauma and pain. They almost never evoke the feeling of improvement or getting better. How miserable is the smell of disinfectant.
We sat having waited the customary two hours in the inner sanctum of the X ray dept.
I had been sitting in one of those awful ‘tie up the back’ things seemingly forever. I was cold and sad.
“OK son, this way, lets have a look at that pelvis of yours” he beckoned, “Well you seem to be walking Ok,” I had forgotten to limp but I guess subterfuge was a lacking skill of mine.
“Hop up on the table and lie flat on your back,” I made an effort to look pained as I moved onto the gurney that was more akin to a morgue slab than a table. Wasted effort, he wasn’t even looking at me
After manipulating me this way and that and “hold still” and “don’t breathe” a few times as the machinery clicked and buzzed, “Right, all done, you can get dressed now, wait outside and we’ll give you an initial impression and send the results to your GP.”
Twenty minutes later, feeling much warmer in my street clothes, my reverie was broken by the x-ray guy returning with four large sheets of film.
He spoke quietly to my mother, but little pigs have big ears.
“Well Mrs Holland, your boy hasn’t got a break, but we will send these on to the GP as there’s something else we’d like him to look at.”
My mother, bless her heart, looked him right in the eye… “which is why we wanted the x ray in the first place, but you said you couldn’t fit him in til September — which is 4 months away. So I lied.”
“Oh, right, so you know about his slight — er — underdevelopment?”
“Well we have an idea, we just need to confirm the problem.” My mother looked him up and down as she spoke. “But we couldn’t get anyone to take us seriously yesterday, so I told them it was an injury”
“Do you know the name of the person you were speaking to?” The lab tech asked.
“A Mr Ashburton” The contrast between his white coat and his face took on a distinct higher ratio, “Oh, that’s me… I am sorry”.
“Well no harm done,” she looked round the empty waiting room, “well I must get on, and I can see you’re very busy.” Contrast altering once more, the tech bid us good day.
Mum suddenly turned to him before he could leave with the x rays…”Would you like me to improve your efficiency even more? I could take those with me — we’re on the way to the Doctor’s now”
He actually smiled sheepishly as he handed them over, “it’s against the rules, but I guess it is ok”.
Mum took me home and then went out again, I guess she’d gone to the doctor’s without me. I really didn’t want to know anyway — I was in pure denial and I was really feeling quite ill with anxiety. I guess mum knew that.
When she came in she made us some coffee and we sat once more in the afternoon sunlight. She reached out and took my hand. “This is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done sweetie, so please let me finish before you start in to me.” I could see the pain in her eyes, this was not good, my heart revved a notch and I started to feel sweaty.
“The doctor looked at the x-rays and said that the size and density of your testes means that you will never be able to mature as a fertile man. That’s not to say that you will be unable to have sex, just that you won’t be able to father children.
That’s all he can say right now until we try to correct the problem with hormone therapy, which is the next step.
The doctor also said that depending on the tests that are already being carried out on your blood samples, the type of Androgen Insensitivity you have will be diagnosed and what they can do will be according to those results.”
“What does all that mean in real terms mum? Does it mean I get to stay a man or what?” the ‘or what’ was what was making my mind spin..
At this point I really knew that even though I was supposed to me a male, I had blown it big time. My nuts were useless and I was firing blanks… not that I’d ever fired anything yet — not even a damp squib… I trembled as the reality hit me…
“Don’t answer that last one, I don’t think I can bear to hear it yet.”
I left the table and sought refuge in my room — I wasn’t crying, but I was hyperventilating and felt very strange. I looked around my room — Airfix models of Warplanes hung over the desk in the corner — relics of my hand eye coordination learning days. A couple of pics of my fave footy team, Liverpool. A poster of the Carpenters… the detail my eye was capturing was probably a result of the amount of adrenalin in my system.
Ah Karen, what did you do to me? I was suddenly in a rage — ripped the posters off the wall and tore at the fishing line that hung the planes from the ceiling, the noise was amazing considering the small nature of the conflict…
The debris littered the floor, and I stood panting with the wing of a bomber in my hand — like Thor with a thunderbolt.
“I SAID, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” came up the stairs when the pounding in my ears abated.
“Yeah yeah, just altering my room a bit,” I shouted back between gulps.
I later fixed the tear in and rehung the Carpenters poster.
I looked at my watch, 3.20pm — the library was still open — I need to get a book about this AIS thing — I hit the stairs at the run — mum stood back as I shot past her, “just going to the library — I need some information…”
“STOP” - I skidded to halt “what do you want now? the library shuts in ½ an hour and it takes 20 minutes to get there”
In her hand was a book the thickness of a telephone directory. “the doctor lent me this”
I expected it to have the title “All you need to know about Gender.” But it was just “Endocrinology and Enzyme Function Volume 2” boring as hell.
“He said chapter 12 has it all in about you, he’s been reading it all day. It’ll answer your questions better than a published tome about transsexuals and gender reassignment” She looked sad and very deflated. “I’ve just been reading it myself, interesting if a bit dry.”
I looked at her dry mouthed as I realised that that was what I was, a transsexual. Someone with the body of the wrong sex…. But I hadn’t yet worked out which way round I was.
Confused and saddened by my mother’s face and stance, I took the heavy tome from her and started up the stairs, mum put her hand on my shoulder, “It’s ok petal, you’ve got a great chance of coming out of this intact — but maybe not as Jerry OK?
I turned and put my arms around her neck and buried my face in her soft shoulder.
“I’ll be Ok mum, I just need to find where I’m at,” I blubbered into her shoulder.
6PM — mum switched off the TV.
Nigel complained “Hey,” then shut up as he saw mum’s face, “what the hell is the matter round here, someone die?”
Dad was sat at the table with a large scotch with some ice tinkling in it — mum had a sherry.
“Right come and sit at the table Nigel, we need to do this properly. I was already sat next to mum, she was holding my hand.
Nigel rose and sighed as if it was the most onerous duty, spied my hand in mum’s and our general hang-dog expression and blanched. “What’s wrong, is someone sick?” looking at me quizzically.
Dad had written some notes on a pad.
“I’m not going to say much at this point, just three things.
One, Jerry is suffering from a problem that may stop him from growing into a man
Two, he may or may not remain as a male - outwardly.
Three, whatever happens, he,.. or she (his expression as he said she was so painful that I was ready to throw up in anxiety) has our love and our support to do whatever he or she thinks best for his or her future happiness.”
Nigel looked blank for a minute or two, his expression went from sickly green to disgust to pain to incredulity all in a space of less than 20 seconds.
“You mean he’s a freak?” The curl in his lip fired it as a snear.
“NIGEL!!! — that is uncalled for and absolutely intolerable, what a terrible thing to say about your bro- sibling.”
Nigel eyed me, looking blotchy red and white from the rebuke, his anger and unbelieving mind.
My lip was trembling and I was about to have another attack of the shudders, I could see stars in front of my eyes and things were suddenly really far away.
I fell off my chair and was caught before I hit the ground , dad was right there for me.
I recovered before I went all the way into blackness.
By the time I was able to see again, Nigel had gone.
I heard the door slam as he left the building.. “I hope he doesn’t tell anyone,” I looked at mum for support. “No, he’ll keep it to himself for now, it’d be too embarrassing for him to let anyone into this family secret.”
“John, could you look outside and see if you can see him?” Mum spoke sadly across the room to my father as he swigged his scotch, the ice long melted.
“Ok,”
I started up the stairs to the sanctuary of my room as dad closed the door. “He’s only in the garden,” he said quietly. Mum just nodded.
Nigel came back in and quietly went to bed about 10pm, he had got cold outside. I slept hardly a wink — why would I?
I felt very low.
The dregs of morning filtered into the room, another rainy day in paradise..
I wandered into the bathroom for my morning ablutions — Nigel was in the shower as per usual. “Hey — get out - I’m not having you in here with me if you’re a gu-url!”
I turned and went back to my room and waited til he was out. I felt like a zombie.
School that day felt like I was a spy, I spotted my brother a couple of times but he ignored me — worse, he seemed to shun me — like I wasn’t his sibling — I couldn’t find the term other than that to describe me — I didn’t know who I was.
It was becoming too much
It was several days later that I got home and mum summoned me to the kitchen — I felt no better, but I seemed to have reached a point where it no longer mattered.
“The doctor phoned today.” She tried to hook my curiosity.
“He’s organised for you to meet with a Gender Specialist in town.” I looked at her with that pained expression that was supposed to say “and how does this affect me?” but I knew how it affected me… I was after all more girl than boy, right?
“When?”
“In half an hour.”
I nearly staggered backwards with the force of the words. “Well we thought it best if you didn’t worry about it, the doctor can get a better impression of how well you’re bearing up.”
‘My tumbrel awaits’ I thought — jeez I hate that thought… “I’d best get changed then, eh?”
“Just something comfortable,” Mum offered.
We rolled up to the clinic and I sat not really feeling like having an interview with a person who would most likely control my destiny.
“Come on slow coach, get a wriggle on, we haven’t all day,” chivvied my slave master opening her door and bouncing with simulated jocularity onto the pavement.
“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” I alighted from the tumbrel metaphorically flinging my cloak over my shoulder. “Madame Guillotine awaits.” In reality I felt no such bravado. I wish I could lose this feeling of doom.
“Come in, sit down, make yourself comfy. I’m Julie and I’ll be looking after you” Good start I reckoned.
“Right, how can I be of help to you today?”
My mum handed over my file that the doc had given her. “Jerry is worried about his future and we need to make some decisions about what is happening.” Mum took the lead.
“The doctor says here that you have come to a point that you have a choice to make, but that choice may not be what you want… some choice huh?” Julie smiled at me and touched my hand.
“Mrs Holland?” she started.
“Beth”
“Beth, I need to sit with Jerry alone for a few minutes; is that Ok?”
“Sure, I’ll just be outside eh?” she rose and moved toward the door.
“I’ll be about 20 mins.” The doc said with a friendly smile.
“Right Jerry,” looking at me, she smiled and took in the whole of me, piece by piece.
“Would you like to let your hair down?”
I complied. I think she was formulating a direction and what chances were going to be like, I felt like a prize bull (heifer?).
“First things first, I’m not here to make any recommendations or decisions for you, any decision must come from you, any changes you make to your self or your life are your decision and yours alone. I’m not here to tell you who you are or what you should do. I’m here to guide you to where you think you best feel able to move on and be happy.
Does this make sense to you?”
I looked at her. Suddenly I felt that I had someone here that I could trust, someone who might understand who I was and what my options were. I smiled.
“That sounds great, can you tell me what my options are?”
“Well why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself first, then perhaps you’ll tell me what you’d like to do.”
This was sounding better and better.
I started to ramble and she jotted down the odd note, suddenly she stopped me.
“Right, so what you’re saying is that you feel caught between two stools as it were, frustrated because you don’t know where you fit in?”
She’d nailed it in one. I beamed at her, “exactly, I just want to get on with my life and be happy.”
“So tell me what your life is like, what sorts of things do you like to do?”
I set off again telling her about the books I read and the places I went cycling when the weather was reasonable.
“Ok, so what you’re telling me is that you like to do individual things you don’t group up with friends?”
After 20 mins she stopped me and invited mum back in.
“Well Beth, Jerry and I have been discussing where he feels he is and where he feels he’d like to be and we’ve come to a place where I’d like you to tell me what you feel about things as they are.”
“Well, it’s all come as a bit of a shock, all we really want is to be happy. Jerry is a smashing young man and we’re very proud of him. He’s intelligent and charming and has no bad habits. He seems well balanced and happy — it’s all we can ask really”
“Have you noticed any changes recently?” The doc fished gently
“Well Jerry seems to be shaken to the core with this new problem, he doesn’t know what he wants, and it’s a choice that is very difficult for him — he’s never been in a situation where a decision could change his whole life.
Up to then, he was just a normal kid on the block, just with better manners I guess.”
The therapist paused, looking for some eye contact with my mother. “Beth, it seems your little girl does know what she wants, she just told me while you were outside.
I asked her what she would like to do with her life. She told me,” looking down at her notes to get it right, “I feel that I always was a girl, something at the back of my mind made me do things differently to guys, it seemed I had to learn very hard to be male, but my female friends down the road seem really easy to get on with — while the guys at school are like, non starters. I just didn’t know it until it was forced on me by this hormone thing, I don’t want to upset mum and dad and my brother thinks I’m a freak, but it’s who I am and who makes me happy.”
My mothers mouth was wide open, and she looked at me, “oh darling,” she recovered, “if that’s what you want my sweet, that’s what will happen.”
Tears glistened in my eyes, I had trusted the therapist and she’d come up trumps, I’d told her my innermost secret and she’d let it out with the timing and grace of Lawrence Olivier.
“What about Nigel? he’ll kill me.”
“Well we’ll sort that out later darling — first up we need to get you on the right track and feeling good about yourself.”
The therapist stood up and shook mum’s hand and then mine — “thanks for coming in and I think we made some wonderful progress today. Ordinarily I would not take today as any more than an indication of preference, but the way Jerry spoke and the situation with the androgen insensity, I think it is almost certain that we’ve reached a decision we can count on.”
I don’t want you to rush off and do too much yet, just have some fun with the idea and we’ll get together again in a fortnight , how does that sound?”
We both nodded agreement, and turned to leave. “Before you leave, just see June my secretary first to book you in in a fortnight. That’ll be (looking at her calendar) June 1st” She grinned, “I’ve been dying to use that line for ages.”
Mum hugged me as we sat in the car, “and you never told me and I never guessed,” she smiled at me then sat back and turned on the engine. I was stunned… I had prattled on in the clinic and my world had changed in an hour. I was to be a girl….. for the rest of my life… forever….Miss Holland, spinster of this parish….
I felt like the rain had gone from my life, all those secret fears and hopes were solid, and sat in the palm of my hand.
I said not one word all the way home — I’m glad I wasn’t driving, I would have killed someone. I was spaced beyond that place they called comatose.
Once we got home, I needed to sit and take stock of what I had done, and how my past had caught up to my future.
I remembered the first time I felt as if I should have been a girl — I was about five, I had been at my cousin’s house and she had been playing with some old makeup of her mother’s — she’d teased me about wanting to try it out and when I thought about it, I realised I DID want to look like my mummy. I thought I was just being silly, but then I thought a bit more about it and realised I didn’t want to look like mummy, I wanted to BE like mummy, I WAS like mummy.
It took me weeks to shake that feeling — long after I had returned from my cousin’s place.
As I thought about my life I realised that it had always been bubbling just beneath the surface, trying not to look like a girl, trying not to move like a girl — that unfamiliar feeling of being male — and growing up (thankfully I hadn’t grown too far) not feeling like a guy.
I had watched with interest the girls at the other high school as they budded and blossomed but I’d never really got on with them as a guy — even though a couple my age were living in the street. Carol and Wendy — I’d been to their birthday parties in years past (our ‘rents were friends) and whilst I was friends with the girls, I wasn’t ‘dating material’. I didn’t relate to them as a male.
Mum called me down for tea.
“Come on precious, eat some of that brown bread, it’ll make your hair curl,” I was still miles away
“Shouldn’t I be on a diet now? eat salad and stuff…?”
Nigel “humphed” through his sandwich of chips and tomato sauce. I grimaced watching him shred the loaf and a load of chips with only some Chicken Maryland and peas to coax any nutrients into him.
“Yes you’re right honey, I should be buying more nutritious stuff — you don’t want spots, what’ll the boys think?”
A silence descended on the table, a palpable quiet as everyone suddenly realised what mum had said ‘boys’ I had never thought about it — I would be a girl, so I would be going out with boys, kissing them perhaps and holding their hands.
Nigel nearly regurgitated his tea and spluttered, “you go anywhere near my mates and I’ll kill you! God this is so embarrassing”
I sat with my head bowed, tears streamed down my face, I didn’t know if I was ready to think about boys…. Not in this lifetime anyway….
Dad had been quiet and sat just taking in what was going on round him.
He spoke up, “look Nigel, it’s not what any of us wanted for Jerry, least of all Jerry, but we need to be sensible about this, no one did anything to cause it, it just is. Jerry will not be able to grow up male if what we know at the moment is true and we will have to accept it. Now if you can’t accept it then just keep quiet and ignore what’s going on like you have for the past 4 years. You’ve had no input into this family since you got into long trousers, so if you don’t like it, you can continue in the same vein”.
“Always the same — Jerry this, Jerry that… I just got left to my own devices..no one cared about me.” Mum looked stricken as Nigel came out with a tirade that smacked so sincerely of infant tantrum.
Dad’s voice rose with his colour, “that is patently untrue, and you know it, now apologise to your mother before I ground you, big as you are.”
“Yeah yeah sorry, I just feel a bit left out that’s all — I’ve not had much time to take this in.”
Mum looked over at me, “are you coping ok pet?” I nodded through my tears as I continued to eat — I had to do something, I couldn’t just sit here watching the family fall apart because I had turned into a circus act.
“And don’t think this is any of your fault,” mum said as if she could read minds. “You just take care of staying happy and we’ll worry about the logistics. Nigel dear, I promise you this; this will not be easy for any of us but we’ll get through it because we are a family and you know we all love you.. including Jerry.”
Nigel looked a bit sullen then perked up a bit, “hey if Jemima here gets some friends, she’ll be bringing them home won’t she? This might not be so bad after all.” All of a sudden he was full of female personal pronouns.
I watched telly for a bit, then decided I’d had enough of today, and said my goodnights, mum and dad both gave me a hug — which was something of a change, at least it hadn’t happened for about 6 years.
“By the way, while you’re thinking about sleeping, how about mulling over some nice names for us to call you, we’re not going to get away with calling you Jerry for much longer if the writing on the wall is being read right”.
I said immediately, “Jenny, I’ve always thought of myself as Jenny”. Dad’s eyes were as round as the buttons on the leather chair he was sitting in.
“Ok, goodnight Jenny, sleep well”. Dad’s eyes were glistening in the TV light.
I thought I’d be up for ages but the next thing I knew mum was shaking me — “go get your shower before Nigel gets in there.” She told me she’d looked in the night before and found me out like a light. I spent a couple of minutes relating the thoughts that had been going round my head about my relationships with Wendy and Carol up the street, then headed for the shower.
There wasn’t much happening at school just the regular routine. I allowed myself to slip back into it and relished the quiet before the inevitable storm. Nigel steered clear and the bullyboys didn’t take any notice of me — the weather was warming up and the games field was drying out, so the cricket pads were on and lots of sports were in session at break time.
About a week later, I was summoned to the nurse.
“Hi Jerry, thank you for dropping by, I have a letter for your mum and the doctor has told me all about the prognosis.”
I backed out the door with my hands over my ears — I didn’t want to hear anything while I was still at school. The nurse chased me out and said, “at least take the letter home with you.”
I grabbed it and ran. I presumed the news would now go into my file and the secretary would have some gossip to spread. It was unfair of me, it never happened, she kept it close to her chest. For that I am truly grateful.
I wasn’t over keen on riding home that evening, the letter was burning a hole in my jacket and I hadn’t even looked at it. If I had I would have noticed that it was addressed to me!
It was a copy of the one that my mother was reading at the kitchen table as I got home.
We read them in silence, both of us resigned now to the changes that were about to ring on the Hollands.
“So you have a little surgery to undergo petal, more time off school. And some pills you’re going have to take for the foreseeable future.” I wasn’t happy but it was an answer.
“Don’t forget you have to go see the therapist tomorrow,” my heart lurched again, it was all happening too fast. “It’s Ok, I’ll come with you.”
“I should hope you will,” I looked at her like she might abandon me any minute.
“It says here that the changes will take up to 2 years just like a normal late puberty.” I didn’t add the other parameter; Female… my FEMALE PUBERTY. God I was going to throw up — I really wasn’t prepared for this.
“So how are you today Jerry?”
“Oh fine, just so you know though; the name will be Jenny — Jennifer Kirsty Holland.”
Julie smiled and immediately scrubbed out my name on the file in front of her and pencilled in my new name. “Jenny it is then, that’s wonderful that you’ve come to terms with your change already.”
“How did you know I wouldn’t be curable with testosterone?” I asked knowledgeably.
“I didn’t, but it’s a pretty rare syndrome and it’s usually pretty cut and dried if you have it, I just didn’t want to give you a zero chance in case you were disappointed and had to stay Jerry.” She smiled and so did I, she had me bang to rights.
“I’m not going to go on much this session, I just need to know if you have any misgivings, or areas where you need some information?”
“Loads, but I’m going to lay low for a few days until I get used to the idea, I only found out for sure yesterday.”
Julie invited mum in and continued. “The endocrinologist has sent me these initial prescriptions. We normally wouldn’t be giving you anything until you are 16 minimum but the result of your tests have proved this to be PAIS which is not like an ordinary transsexual inasmuch as you have no glands producing any regulatory hormones that can be processed, so we’ll have to supply them for your system for the rest of your life.” She looked at me for a reaction, I paled a bit but I was generally ok with it.
“The scrip will bring your female hormones up to normal levels for a girl entering puberty — you won’t see or feel much difference for a few weeks probably but you will get emotional swings so stay where you can be comforted or not get into a panic for a while until you can recognise the swings because they are pretty wild sometimes.
Your body is crying out for these hormones and you’re going to get quite a kick out of them. Now its five weeks til the end of term and summer hols,” she continued quickly. So we’ll be able to get you pretty much on the road to normality by New Autumn Term…” She looked me straight in the eye again. “You know what that means?”
I gulped down my dry tongue and whispered, “Girl’s High School?” she nodded and handed me the scrip. “These are yours, mum will make sure you take them, but it’s your prescription, make sure you do as the scrip tells you. Oh by the way go to the pharmacy over in the next village ‘til you get your name changed. It might be wiser to keep the nosey parkers out of it at least for a while”.
Mum volounteered that she’d get her sister to pick them up and bring them over on a monthly basis as they had a standing meeting at the volley ball club where they could pass them over. Clandestine drug handling — I wonder if the other club members will ask them for some…
It was over, I was set up — now the real ‘fit hits the shan’. The clinic had supplied the initial prescription so I sat cradling the pills all the way home reading all about what to do if I get vaginal bleeding or excessive stomach cramps from them…I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. I laughed. Mum and I stopped on the way home and had a coffee at the local mall and she bought my favourite cake for tea. I took my first pills.
Saturday was as rainy as hell, and it was cold considering we were into June. I sat with mum and we discussed what was next.
Dad was trying to get the lawnmower going and every so often we heard a clatter and loads of smoke issued from the shed…
“John, you’ll suffocate yourself, leave that contraption alone and come inside, I want to discuss something-ing.” I never knew you could get an echo from a brick wall — but mum managed it every time she called John from that tin shed.
He ran across the rain soaked lawn as he wiped his hands on an oily rag (odd how rags are oily even when they’re clean huh?). “Wazzup?” he queried as he shook the rain off his glasses.
“Come in and sit down, we’re working out how we’re going to sort Jenny’s clothes.”
I still shivered every time she used my new name.
Dad perched on the end of the table and said, “colours in one and whites in the other wash, same as always” mum clobbered him with the tea towel , “you know what I mean”.
“You’re asking me for a blank cheque?” he clutched his breast like he was having a heart attack rolling, his eyes back into his head, then put his hand over his wallet pocket. “Will we still have brown bread and butta for us tea?” I was beginning to think things were returning to normal. The air was light with joviality and we were happy again.
“Well how much do we need to spend initially? Can she get away with a few tops and some jeans for a while until we know what sort of growth to expect?”
Suddenly I was in tears, everything was too much. I sobbed like a bereaved widow at a funeral.
Dad’s face looked puzzled, mum’s wasn’t, “lo and behold your daughter — her first mood swing caused by being happy, expect this regularly on soap operas, cute bunny adverts and chick flicks. Oh and don’t expect to be watching sports on TV if Jenny is home, she’ll be wanting to watch the cookery progs! !HAHAHA” she started giggling and I suddenly stopped crying like a tap was turned off.
Dad smiled suddenly, “hey! it may be ok, I think this may be covered in my health policy”.
We headed for the mall in the next town and I had made myself look as presentable as possible, hair down and white T-shirt smartest jeans, clean trainers. I wasn’t ready to wear makeup.
We settled for some nice trainers and some flat shoes, a pair of 1 ½ inch heeled court shoes and two pairs of sandals brown and white. My nicer socks could be salvaged my undies were binned. New undies. Now, I was used to briefs and not ‘y’ fronts but since I had to undress in school, I had to wear kinda macho ones. I hated them since they always looked empty — well I wasn’t well rigged was I? I got three tops and two pairs of girls low rise jeans which were a bit loose round the hips but mum assured me they would fit in no time.
We wandered through to the bra section, I suddenly ground to a halt, “do I have to?”
“Well actually yes, you do and you’ll thank me in a couple of weeks, she grabbed a tape measure of the end of the rack and measured me round the chest. Size 12. “Good easy to find 12. We’ll start you off with an AA and that’ll be it. Just the one for now. You don’t need to wear it more than a few hours at a time when you get home from school. You’ll soon tell me when you want to wear it, believe me.”
I looked at her puzzled then realised I was scratching my chest above my left nipple.
I coloured up and mum looked me in the eye, “starting already, isn’t it?”
I nodded the affirmative. I’d been itchy all morning- it had only been five days since I started the pills.
On the way out mum noticed a nice little full circle denim mini and held it up to me, just as the girl from down the street, Wendy walked past with her mum…. “Oh my God mum, she’s seen me”
Mum turned and looked at Wendy and her mum, smiled and said “hi, fancy meeting you here, are you finished shopping or ready for a break? I’m dying to sit down”.
Before we could whistle ‘Dixie’ we were all seated round four coffees. Along with all my shopping — Wendy was eyeing me like I was about to accost her and her mum was looking at me like I had some infection.
“Guess what, we’ve just discovered Jerry was misidentified at birth — she’s just starting her puberty and it’s all of a rush ….”
Mum sat back to let the news settle in, we watched the two goldfish for a minute or two.
“What exactly do you mean?” Wendy’s mum raised one eyebrow suspiciously.
“Denise, how long have we known each other? Nearly all the lives of these two isn’t it? You know Jerry was always a bit of a softy and more like Wendy in temperament and we even mentioned it in conversation a few times”.
Denise nodded and looked like she was a bit embarrassed — nothing unusual there — it seems I’m a gorilla in the kitchen at the moment, no one wants to discuss me or my future once they know things aren’t right.
Mum continued, “Well we have a diagnosis from the doctors that show that Jerry was born with a condition that covered her real gender — physically showing her as a male externally but not her system which we never guessed until her puberty didn’t start.”
“You mean Jerry is really a girl?” Wendy’s eyes lit up like she’d found a ten pound note in her pocket.
“Yes Wendy, she is and always has been,” mum patted the back of Wendy’s hand as I looked carefully from one coffee drinker to the next. Denise looked puzzled and mum looked pleased that there hadn’t been a scene — disaster averted by quick thinking — safe, I hope and pray. Wendy looked ecstatic like she’d been given a life sized Barbie for her birthday — I found out later that was precisely what she’d been thinking…
It meant that Denise would be contacting Carol’s mum as well and I wouldn’t be immediately blacklisted as a deviant who liked to wear girls’ clothes.
My heart resumed normal rhythm and I felt the sweat drying from between my shoulder blades.
We finished our coffee and headed for the car. Our parcels slowing us only a little — hey I was quite looking forward to trying some of this stuff. I thought of all the times I’d wondered about wearing girls’ clothes and to this day I never had.
We made a side track to the chemists and mum bought some bits and pieces for my hair and some decent shampoo and conditioner… even though I looked after my hair better than most chicks already.
When we got home dad was just finishing screwing a lock to the bathroom door. I coloured up a little — looks like my days of walking in on Nige and vicky verka were over. Then I thought of the underwear in my bags and coloured up even more.
I threw the bags on the bed and mum jettisoned her cargo by the closet.
“Um, I think now is a good time to throw out anything that resembles worn or damaged clothing, anything that is too small and ALL your Led Zeppelin Tshirts..”
“I’ve only got one”, I answered, pouting slightly.
“My God it must be rank by now, it’s never off your back.”
“I hand wash it nearly every day mum, leave it out, I hate to smell like I do.”
“Er, haven’t you noticed chicky?”
“No, what?”
“Take your T shirt off and smell it”
I did as she bid and realised five days after I started HRT, I no longer smelt like Jerry, I already had a softer more gentle smell. I sat on the bed as the tears welled and looked up at mum, “a-already?”
“Already Jenny, you’re already on your way”
I sat there for an age, staring into space.I could feel the distance between my mind and my body, I struggled to bring them together. Mum gave me a little hug and said she was going to make some tea, “pop on your new jeans and a top and come down. Remember I bought some bee sting as a treat”.
I smiled and nodded as I zoned back in.
Ten minutes later I hit the bottom of the stairs as Nigel opened the front door. “Jeeezus, what do you look like?” he shook his head derisively
“NIGEL! In here this minute!” Mum was not amused.
He walked in ahead of me with a sneer that would make a nazi shudder. “My faggot of a brother looks like that and I get the ear pounding?”
“SIT, and don’t say another word.”
I had backed off to the wall and was shuddering. I was trying to gnaw off my knuckles in total anxiety. My family were fighting and it was all my fault.
“Jenny come over here petal and sit at the table, I want Nigel to see who you really are.”
I looked at her puzzled, and walked as if I was heading for a cliff edge. I sat at the table.
“Right sunshine,” mum looked at Nigel and continued, “now tell me what you see as so odd about the girl sat in front of you?”
“Well it’s my brother for a start, and “she’s” as flat chested as”… he stopped, “my God he isn’t flat chested, I can see her nipp-“ he stopped again. “his face, hell what have you done to him?”
“When was the last time you looked at your brother?” Mum questioned quietly but insistently.
“I never looked at him, not really,” his voice had changed to a strange quiet like he’d never seen who I was. “I just thought he was a nerdy little oxygen thief who needed a big brother to keep him from getting beaten up cos he was so wimpy.”
I’m sitting looking at him by now with my eyes as wide as a Guernsey cow, the tracks of my tears showing on my skin as they ran past the corner of my mouth.
“Give your sister a hug Nigel, I want to see you accept your sister properly.”
I looked over at mum with a stunned mullet impression. Sister….
Nigel got up trying to look pained but I could sense a sort of fear in his eyes as he approached me. I stood to let him wrap his arms round me, which surprisingly he did.
He spoke softly to me, “I’m sorry Jenny, I had no idea,” suddenly he stepped back releasing me, then stepped forward again smelling my neck, “are you wearing perfume? No you’re not are you? What’s that smell?” His eyes went as round as mine and I saw mum wink as she sat smiling and stirring her tea slowly.
“That Nigel, is your sister’s own personal smell, get used to it, it’s going to be in the bathroom and all round this house,”
Nigel looked in wonder at me, “You ARE a girl, Christ you even smell like one, you’re actually quite nice looking too. Why didn’t I notice that before?” he smiled then softly, “This might not be so bad after all. I can get used to this.” Looking at his watch. “Can I go get changed mum, I’m meeting Graham and Peter to hang out and I’m gonna be late if I don’t shift?”
Mum nodded and smiled at him, “don’t be late home and don’t slam the doo-” BANG!
Too late…
I spent the rest of the weekend clearing out my room, stopping now and then to shed a few tears. Did I want to destroy my past? No I didn’t. I was still me and I had a right to my memories as Jerry. But I did throw out my footy boots — and strip — I smiled at that — it was two years old and looked brand new. I also threw out my models which seemed a bit childish to have now — I wondered why I bothered.
There were a few model cars I kept, a Jag mark 10 and a Porsche Carrera. I still loved luxury and power — things I could use even as a girl!
Monday back at school was weird. Nigel went with me to my first class and told me as I went in that he would see me at break. I felt like I suddenly had a protector. I told him not to bother, but he looked concerned and whispered to me, “what if someone smells you?”
I looked at him incredulously, “when was the last time anyone went round smelling other boys?” He looked like he’d turned into beetroot.
I saw him at break but he was over the other side of the quad — trying to look nonchalant but keeping his eye on me. I felt very loved at that moment. Even when my nemesis, Stanley, thought he’d come over and give me some lip I didn’t turn a hair.
I just looked from him to my brother and he followed my eyes and saw the gaggle of prefects with my brother near enough to grab him before he even got a chance to draw breath.
When I headed home that night Nigel saw me onto the bus before he went into town with his mates. Sometimes it’s nice having a big brother.
When I got home I headed for the shower and to inspect my growth — which seemed to change on a daily basis. I was sore and it was just coming up to a week since I started my pills. But there didn’t seem to be much growth just a sort of lump at the back of my nipples and an itch like a rash above my left breast.
My face did seem softer but I think that was because I no longer seemed angry all the time. My skin felt odd, but I doubt there was any changes in that.
The rest of the week was strange, I felt like I was in limbo, waiting for something to happen that might signal my new status. Mum and dad kept it quiet and I allowed myself to relax.
That Friday afternoon as I got off the bus, Wendy and Carol were there waiting for someone. I glanced in their direction and they waved at someone near me… no - it was at ME!
They came over and said hello as the bus pulled away, the guys on the bus ogled my friends — I was sure to catch some flak later.
As the other passengers dispersed, I realised they intended to walk with me — they did, one each side.
“I’m so sorry,” Wendy started, “I told Carol about your changes, why are you still dressed like that?” she scrunched up her nose in distaste.
“I expected you’d tell Carol, I don’t mind, it’s who I am now, which answers your other question.” I indicated my uniform. “I have four weeks to go until we break for hols, there’s no way I can stop the ball rolling now — we have exams in a week and I need to get good grades if I’m to get into High School in a good stream when I change over after summer.”
Both girls squealed like a car on a tight corner, “You’re really coming to High School?”
“Why shouldn’t I? I’m going to be more girl than boy after Hols, what’s the fuss?”
As I said that I suddenly burst into tears. I wasn’t sure if it was joy or anxiety, or even just release I just stood there as the two girls hugged me gently to them, “It’s Ok Jenny, we understand.” I think they did too.
When my fit had subsided, we continued on our way and when we reached my house I stopped, “You want to come in and see my etchings? Or just share some coke and a few bikkies?”
“You couldn’t stop us if you wanted to.” We went in.
Mum was home and to my surprise dad was too. In the hall was a kidney shaped dresser done in enamel — I realised it was for my room — things were on the move.
Dad had his painting gear on… I suddenly looked at him and said “Not PINK?”
“No, it wouldn’t match the carpet and I’m not buying you new carpet, I’m doing it pastel green — which is a lot better than the gross purple colour at the moment.”
The girls looked a bit sick when Dad mentioned purple and we headed for the kitchen.
We chatted for a while, bonding I suppose you’d call it and they left asking if I was going to the mall over the weekend — I declined — I had exams next week and I really did want to get into High School with good grades.
I spent the weekend in the dining room with books everywhere trying to concentrate on making my life as easy as possible — mum told me I was doing the best thing possible — not dwelling on my situation too much, just making the best of it and looking forward.
I had to stop on Sunday afternoon to allow my fact swollen brain to recover. I found my concentration skills were a lot better than they had been previously — I wonder if the HRT helped there?.
Exams …. Hell on Earth …. Well not really, but I needed to study for them so I wasn’t as cluey as I could be — my IQ was reasonable but study is what counted in my life. Nigel had it worse — he had the real things to do — his university entrance was dependant on him making the best grades possible — he wanted to be an architect — good luck to him — I think he would be good at that.
It was quite fortunate that I didn’t have any exams on Tuesday — as I had to go back to see my shrink, June the 1st had arrived.
“Hello Jenny, nice to see you again.
“Now where were we last time? Ah yes, you’d made the decision and you felt in control and happy to be who you thought you were?
How are the hormones affecting you?” she looked at me scratching my chest above my left nipple — why is it only there that itches?
“I cry a lot, I itch a lot and I seem to be going to the loo a lot.”
“So you’re feeling emotional? What does that mean to you?”
“I suppose it means the HRT is working and that things are happening the way they should”
“How does that make you feel?” She looked intensely interested so I put her out of her misery.
“Actually, I feel great, my folks are being really good — I got a load of new clothes and two new girlfriends and my brother no longer treats me like a leper, just more like a potential dating agency”
“Two new Girlfriends?” She frowned slightly.
“Oh I’ve known them for years, even used to play with them when I was younger. We’ve just re-met now that my future lies more in line with theirs”.
“So they know you’re transitioning?” smiling now.
“Yes I met one of them, Wendy, in the mall when I was shopping for girls clothes with mum. So the cat was out of the bag so to speak- I didn’t mind, I’m comfortable with what’s happening.”
Julie invited Mum in, “Hello again Beth, quite a change going on eh?”
Mum nodded and was about to speak, Julie interrupted. “I’d like to say that Jenny has got to be the most level headed girl we have had in this situation, she’s really doing so well, it’s a real credit to you.”
Mum smiled and looked at me with that gooey sort of doting mum thing that would have made me sick about a month ago but I felt warm in the glow of it now.
“She’s been a little angel, I am so proud of her” I felt dizzy, mum seldom got gooey, but she was lost for all money now.
More to the point was all the pronouns flying round were making me dizzier still. She this, her that, I thought the gooey was bad enough.
We suddenly got the impression Julie was about to rain on my parade.
“There’s something I’d like to discuss that puts us a step closer to the mark. It’s called a bilateral orchidectomy.” Julie looked at the two vacant faces in front of her.
“Oh, I see that’s something that hasn’t been discussed,”
I turned pinkish I guess because I could feel the heat radiating from my face, “um -actually I do know what it is, but I thought I wouldn’t need it and the realisation was a bit of a shock, hence the suspension of sentient thought and movement”….
Julie smiled at me, “I think I can understand what’s going through your mind; bricks and camels and not getting your thumbs caught?”
I nodded and gulped — I felt the heat draining from my face.
“Well there’s two reasons that we need to do this, one is the fact that sitting where they are is dangerous to your health, it is quite easy for them to become cancerous if they can’t get the cooling needed from being outside your body. The other reason is that they interfere somewhat with the new hormones circulating your body and you may end up with hair where you don’t want it — even if you are androgen insensitive.”
She looked at the notepad in front of her, she’d obviously been charting this line of attack; I tried to see what she’d written but without actually going over and grabbing the pad, I couldn’t see the top sheet.
“The operation itself is a day surgery and should be relatively painfree.”
I looked askance knowing full well that getting kicked there was not “painfree”, far from it, and removal of said redundant machinery was likely to be no less painful than a kick.
“I have noted from your x ray that the situation is not going to be awkward and the size of the testes will make it simpler and less traumatic.” I was feeling sick by this time and Julie could tell I’d reached the limit of my imagination.
“Well I’ll let you discuss it with your family if you like, but I think that once your exams are over and before the summer holidays start, would be a good time, sometime after next week — between Tuesday 7th and 10th, which is a Friday of course can be scheduled then a couple of days off for the weekend and you’re ok to attend the end of term stuff at the Grammar school. How does that sound?”
“Rushed,” was my last word. But I knew I was doomed — it was common sense.
“Oh by the way, before we finish, all your medical records have been removed from the school already and your GP has them — stops the gossip.” She affirmed.
Beth, get back to me when you’ve reached a decision and we’ll confirm things, and Jenny,” she looked at me with genuine concern, which reminded me of the adage ‘the condemned man ate a hearty meal’, “It’s your decision and yours alone, we’re trying to recommend what we feel is the best action and we’ve got your best interests at heart to be able to get on and for you to transition over this summer. It is going to be far easier if we can organise it that way — the less other people know, the better it is — education in this area is limited and people think all sorts of things when they get gossip. You do understand don’t you?”
I plonked myself back into the chair, I had already risen preparing to leave. “I know this sounds weird simply because it does to me as well. I’d like to get it over with as soon as possible as well, it’s just such a sudden thing. When I think of all the times I thought about being a girl and how I wished and wished for it, now I’m baulking because you want to make it happen, albeit by losing something that last month I thought would be producing heirs; now they’re a risk factor.” I took a huge gulp and watched as the sparkles in front of my eyes dissipated. “If I come in next Thursday, can you do it then?” There, I’d said it.
Mum looked shocked and I saw Julie shake her head slightly as if to say ‘don’t say anything.’
I looked at Julie, she looked sombre as she took out her diary and phoned the clinic.
“Hello, yes it’s me, about Jenny Holland, how does next Thursday fit?” she listened for a minute and continued, “Right 10.30am, no food or drink after you go to bed on Wednesday night — be in the clinic by 10am.” My fate was sealed.
I had my last exam on Tuesday morning — so I got to fool around that afternoon and the next day. Then Chop…
Everyone would be wagging school anyway and no one would miss me… not that it mattered, I wasn’t going to be there next term… Good riddance, I hated that school anyway….
Tears flooded my eyes as I got angry — I wiped them on my sleeve, furious that I’d let myself go again. Being a girl wasn’t easy with the taps so easy to turn on.
Julie closed her diary, “shall we say the 21st for another chat?”
Mum nodded and rose from the chair, and grabbed me for a hug — I could see the tears in her eyes and the gritted teeth. She was feeling it too. I can’t imagine what dad would say or think when we told him about this one.
“You’re a brave girl Jenny, I want you to know that I wouldn’t normally have recommended such speedy action if you weren’t up to it. I have to say you’re a spunky kid.” She reached out to shake my hand, I reciprocated, then she pulled me to her and gave me a hug for good measure.
I left feeling like I’d been given a reprieve and a painful kick at the same time. Mum looked like she just got the kick.
We didn’t speak until the kettle was on back home. I treated myself to a Mars bar from the fridge. I needed the sugar boost.
“I have to go soon mum, I have my Geography exam this arvo — 1.30 to 3.30.”
Mum sat stirring her tea a bit vacantly — looked at the clock and told me she’d take me and not to rush. It was only midday.
My Geography exam was easy, but I’m not sure I got a good grade, my mind wasn’t on it and when I looked at my scribble pad it was covered with spiky doodles. I handed the exam paper in on the bell and caught the bus. I threw the doodles away. Nigel sat with me.
“How’s it going kiddo?”
“Ok I guess, I had to go to the shrink this morning.”
“What did she say, that you’re too flaky to be a girl?”
“No, just that I had to have my balls removed next Thursday,” I looked at him for a reaction and he went a sort of grey colour and started shallow panting, “You’re kidding right?” I shook my head, “no, I’m serious, 10.30 at the clinic.”
I’ve never seen someone go into shock, but I think Nigel just had, he’d screwed up into a ball and looked like he was about to vomit, his eyes were watering but wide open, I suddenly realised it was a sympathetic reaction to my upcoming operation.
It took him two stops to recover, by which time he was sat there blinking rapidly and staring into space.
“You ok?” I asked.
He looked at me with a sort of wonder, “how can you sit there and tell me you’re going to be castrated and not be screaming?”
“Because to me, that’s actually not relevant, they’re not doing anything except making me ill and could be cancerous if not removed.” I tried to be logical.
Nigel went against two thousand years of family tradition and put his arm round my shoulder. “You’re one brave chick, you know that?” He smiled at me like he really admired me. I think in all honesty, he really did love his new sister and was getting used to it. Suddenly I realised he was looking down my cleavage (haha — yeah I know, two weeks worth) then blushed when he realised what he’d done. He looked away then removed his arm from my shoulder after giving my hair a rub.
As we traipsed up the garden path I caught sight of Wendy on her bike and gave her a wave, she called out that she’d see me later — I gave her another wave in confirmation.
Mum had seen our approach and opened the door before I could get my key out.
Wendy didn’t call round, but she did phone me and I related to her the doings of the week leaving out the procedure I was to undergo next week — she was more interested in how my exams were going and how I was feeling. She was really looking forward to showing me the ropes at the Girls’ High School. She was in the top stream and I was hoping that I would be too. Being 15 and a girl, I was told, was the best thing in the world and the worst at the same time. She took almost an hour to tell me.
In the meantime Dad had come in and I gave him a wave as he passed me in the hall.
When I went back into the sitting room, I realised that mum or Nigel must have broken the news, my father was sitting with his hands over his eyes and I could see his hands were wet. He couldn’t hide his feelings, he felt like Nigel — that the loss of manhood was a terrible thing. But if you never had it, it wasn’t even point one on the Richter scale.
I went over and sat next to him and he wrapped himself round me like a protective coating. He was close to sobbing, which I started to do in sympathy. I felt him draw a huge breath and he stiffened up like a good Englishman.
“Right, I think we’ll all need to go and cheer ourselves up — we’ll go out and get pasta at Giorgio’s” — a new Italian place that had just opened up down the road. I even got to sample a glass of Lambrusco.
We felt less morbid after a glass or two I must admit.
Exams finished and I thought I had acquitted myself ably so I wasn’t phased by the post mortems’ that would be the curriculum for the next week — some of the results were already coming out for the exams we took the week previous but we didn’t get any details — we’d get those on the notice board the week after — and a week before breaking up.
The class looked a lot emptier on the Wednesday — I managed to stay in touch with reality — though it was becoming difficult.
I was seeing the guys in class as a different breed almost, it was now a month since I had started taking hormone treatment and I had the beginnings of breasts and an emotional rollercoaster for a constant companion.
I had managed to stay normal seeming at school and I hadn’t been hit on by anyone for being ‘odd’.
I was conscious of my changing status and my new ‘aroma’; boys smelt rancid if they’d been at all energetic and by the end of the day I would say they smelt evil.
Though I had noticed that some smelt less evil than others. I wondered a little if this was the beginnings of female orientation in my head. I dreaded the day I looked at a guys behind and drooled… oh yuck.
The next day, I would no longer be in any way associated with masculinity except by default — since my name would still legally be Jerry.
I wasn’t sure I was pleased or profoundly sad. I had basically learned how to be a guy all my life and though I wasn’t good at it, I was at least average at being a nobody.
As a female, I had no experience whatsoever and no idea how I would fit in and I had hardly even tried on any girls clothes and certainly not a dress or skirt — though I had worn my little bra a couple of times when my nipples had become seriously sore from my shirt rubbing on them. Mum had laughed when she realised I was wearing it — in a ‘told you so’ fashion. She had warned me and she had been right. What had made me squirm was the fact that I pretty much filled the AA cup bra already. My nipples had two miniature cones behind them which mum called my ‘buds’ and they distended my nipples into hard little pyramids — thank God for school jackets and singlets.
I hadn’t had to do any sport since my awareness of my new status and had thrown out my strip in any case. That was a huge plus as far as I was concerned — mum did warn me that hockey was going to be the next thing I would be playing on a field. But I guessed the strip would be a bit different.
Overall I was excited at being able to change over to being a girl — it was something that felt less strange than trying to be a guy. Being a guy was all competition and being ‘upfront’ and I was never that — Male privilege was supposed to be something that allowed you to be whomever you were — I had never felt or embraced that privilege. I had more or less had it removed by being the underdog in a purely male society. The runt of the litter for my class and year at least.
I felt during the wash-ups from the exams that my stream in High School was assured and that I hadn’t fluffed any exam in a major way.
So when I went home on Wednesday afternoon, it was with the resignation that comes from having done what was possible with the sword of Damocles hanging over my head.
I got treated to a favourite supper of veal parmigiana and noodles and a real apple pie made by mum’s fair hand. The custard was delicious.
Thursday; written in the annals of my history like the day of doom. Though in the eventuality it turned out to be something that became a bit of a non entity.
I arrived at the clinic having had nothing at all by mouth and felt like a dry rag — one with dirty teeth too.
The doctor came through and invited mum and me into his surgery and sat me down.
“Now er young lady, you realise the operation I’m about to carry out is to remove your testes?”
“Yes”
“and that is it not reversible?” I nodded.
“You will not be able to fertilise a female and have children”. I nodded, “out loud if you would?”
“Yes I understand that you’re going to remove the bits that make sperm and I won’t be able to make babies”.
“Right; could you and your Guardian sign here and here” — indicating two dotted lines on the form for consent.
We signed, I felt really light headed, but sort of calm as well. I wondered if the same feeling was felt by someone going to the gallows.
He called his nurse through and asked that I be prepped in the mini operating theatre next door.
Nurse had me remove my clothes and don another of those awful gowns — in pink this time… sit up on the gurney — which had the stirrups of torture on them she gave me a little injection and put a needle into my hand and taped it there then put a saline drip on it.
I felt all drowsy and the doc came in — and mum was ushered out.
“Right in about thirty seconds you’ll be waking up and you’ll feel a bit groggy — then you’ll be able to have a nice glass of water OK?”
I nodded and then I was awake again with a feeling like I’d been kicked by a pony. Right in the goolies… then I realised that I could never be kicked there — it was as apparent as anything that I no longer had any. There was a vacant throb — like a neurological vacuum. I had nerves that told me there was nothing to be nervy about.
I felt like I was about to throw up when I felt a cool hand on my brow and mum looking at me with that tender mother look. I felt a whole lot better.
I got to lie there for about 30 mins then I got my water. The doctor came in and told me “Now be careful what you do for a week or two, no lifting, and come and see me next Friday for a quick check and remove any stiches that feel nasty — they should dissolve on their own but they sometimes get caught and itch like crazy.”
As I got dressed mum handed me the skirt that she’d bought on our first exped for clothes…. “I think you’ll find this is more comfy than jeans right now” she had a bit of a smirk on her face but I thought it was a kind one so I didn’t take offence — I could hardly walk (not without a waddle anyway, I had a maxi pad in my knickers) — what offence could I possibly take.
I wasn’t in any real pain, but I think the weekend was wasted on me — I was absolutely in agony till Sunday afternoon and my groin looked like I’d been given a pair of bullocks testes rather than lost two tiny mouses’ ones.
I went to school on Monday — but only to prove I could. Someone in class asked if I’d been kicked in the nuts over the weekend — as I was walking like John Wayne. I said “something like that” and left it at that.
But the movement became easier as the day went on and I was aware of a freedom I had never experienced before.
By the weekend I had my exam results , which were mostly Bs and As, which assured me of a place in the best stream at the Girls’ school. I told Wendy and she was rapt she was in the top stream too so I would be in her class.
I started the last week of Boys’ Grammar with a sort of restrained glee that I would never have to enter those horrid halls once more. There was nothing there — not a friend nor a memory that made me regret what had happened.
I also lost my stitches and had my check up which took up all of half of the lunch hour. The longest sentence I think I heard was “Ah yes, it seems to be healing nicely”.
Back at school later, one of the teachers said to me, “I believe you’re not going to be with us next term?” He looked expectantly for an explanation.
“No sir”. I replied without filling him in on where I was going. Since my brother had also graduated it was not really easy to glean information that wasn’t forthcoming.
“Well all the best, Holland, keep up the good work–you’ll make a good husband for someone one day.”
“Yes sir, thanks.” I should co-co, I thought—
There was the usual boisterousness and lack of concentration in the class as the sun beckoned outside and we stifled because the boilers were still on inside and the windows had ceased to function as a ventilation source years ago.
As we broke up we all shook hands “see you next term”… etc… I acquiesced and allowed that I would…. I figured they would be trying to ‘pull’ me by next term if things went the same as they had over the previous 8 weeks and they actually got to see me at all.
When I got home I changed into a pair of Jeans and a scoop neck top and put on my little bra as well — a sort of ritualistic finish to my life as Jerry. I let my hair down literally, and threw my head back and shook out the feeling or restraint as I did so — like a horse given it’s head.
I took my uniform and the rest of my school clothes out to the bin and unceremoniously dumped them. They were too worn for the recycling shop — and I would never ever again wear boy’s clothes.
That night I had some of the worst dreams imaginable — I was beaten to a pulp by my class mate as he discovered my secret. My brother plotted against me and told all my high school friends that I was a transvestite. My father beat me for not being a good son. My mother shunned me because I couldn’t bear children.
I awoke screaming in agony as I was raped by my old friends all gathered round to mock me.
As I came to, with my eyes unfocussed, my father had leapt into the room and gathered me up in his arms and held me as I wailed in pain. I sobbed my heart out for it seemed half the night — grieving for my lost manhood and frightened for my future.
Mum made me a mug of cocoa and she cuddled me as I drank it down — hiccoughing and sobbing alternately.
“Julie said this would likely happen, and to watch out for it, it’ a sort of release mechanism, so don’t worry about it — post op blues.”
She settled me down and peace returned for the rest of the night — I awoke surprisingly refreshed though heavy eyed.
My life had flashed before my eyes — all two months of it. I had little notion that I had a long way to go — it was all being taken as a day to day thing. I got more and more distant from Jerry’s life seemingly all too easily.
“I’m going into town later and I’m going to see someone about the legalities of who you are.”
“What do you mean mum?”
“Well we’ll need to do some official things like changing your name, but since there’s only a few things that you have that require legal names, it’s not going to be too onerous, you’ll need to change your name on your savings bank account for a start, your national insurance number may change and your name on it will certainly have to be changed.
I may also be able to get you a new birth certificate eventually, but not I think until we have cleared up the anatomical anomalies — I’ll enquire anyway and get the forms.
You want to come along?”
“I guess I’d better, since it’s likely that the “powers that be” will scoff if you tell them my story. It’s likely to be more easily digested if I’m tagging along like a good little girl….Did I just say that?”
Mum grinned and gripped me on the shoulder, “seems you are coming round to the idea quite well darling”.
The outcome of the day was that most of my identity was set to fade and Jenny was prominently displayed on the page of my life.
The doctor advised that he had sent a form signed by him and the psychiatrist and a copy of my old birth certificate to attest to my mistaken birth gender. I would get a new birth certificate.
Nigel was even getting used to being around me and watched my life with interest as I started to interface as a ‘chick’. I guess it was more to do with the other girls I was going to be bringing home than the fact of my being a girl with an extra bit.
So I started my summer hols with a sort of eyes wide open aspect of absorbing everything from a different point of view a whole new spectrum of colours and textures entered my ken and I felt like someone had spilt a paintbox on all I saw.
I mentioned it to mum and she said that, “women see life a lot differently, it’s a brighter softer world — it’s caused by the hormone levels — which are probably quite high in you at the moment. We’ll find out on Tuesday since it’s time for your blood test again.” That’s mum, always ending the conversation on a positive note. ‘May the female force be with you’ might a good translation be - mmm. (sorry Yoda)
Monday was fun — it usually is on the first week of summer hols — a sort of relaxed euphoria of 8 weeks with nothing to do and you are right at the beginning of it.
Carol and Wendy made a point of dropping in and telling me their plans and asking if I wanted to fall in with them. On the curriculum was lots of swimming and wandering round town window shopping and hanging out at the local coffee joint — together with some picnics and stuff at the weekend.
It sounded a good way to join in with the general scene, except that in this mortal existence, I had never gone bare-chested since I was about 7, I had always felt ridiculous so always wore a T-shirt or polo shirt on the beach, even in swimming I had usually worn a vest. The reality of wearing a girl’s swimming costume said 10,000 things about how I felt about me and I wasn’t too heroic. To wear a bikini was almost a chasm of fear to overcome. What they also didn’t tell me about was the boys…. and how many of them there would be and how insistent (and pestilent) they are.
Wendy called up and told me what she was wearing on the Tuesday morning, “Um and how does this affect me?” I asked with that sort of puzzled remnant of boy lack of curiosity.
“Silly girl. I’m telling you so you can match me and we won’t look odd when we go to the “grounds”” (the coffee bar was called “Grounds for Enjoyment”) They sold the ground beans as well as the perked stuff. “Carol’s wearing the same stuff too.”
“When you come over, we’ll give you a bit of a makeover, you can’t go out without makeup. See you in an hour.”
The phone fell from my nerveless fingers as my mind went into shock… makeup….
“MUM!!!!”
She ran out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel — “what on Earth is the matter?”
“The girls are going to take me to “grounds” and put makeup on me.”
“Why can’t they do it at Wendy’s place?”
“What?”
“Why are they going to do your makeup in town?”
“What on Earth are you talking about?”
“You said they were going to take you to Grounds and put makeup on you”
“Oh mum, not in that order, they’re actually….” I stopped, mum had a grin a mile wide…. My panic started to subside. “Oh,” I looked a little phased and went and put on a pair of jeans and sandals with a bra and Tshirt.
I could feel my heart pounding a bit, I was about to be thrown to the lions. In one swoop I was going to go out without my mum, dressed as a girl, with a bra and makeup on. Was I really going to do this? I suddenly realised that Jerry couldn’t go out anyway, he didn’t have any clothes — Jenny had precious few, but I guess they’re all new so that’s not a burden and the beginning of summer hols is the time to buy up big.
I’d get some stuff with Carol and Wendy in town if I could coerce mum into giving me a few quid.
Twenty minutes later I swallowed, took a deep breath and opened the door, “bye mum,” I shouted.
“Wait a second honey, I want to see how you look,” came back from the study.
Mum came out holding a small shoulder bag in her hand. “Here, there’s a few things in there and a new Purse, I put some money and your ID in there.”
“ID?”
“Better have a look hadn’t you?” mum smirked and held out the bag.
I took it and retrieved a smart looking leather purse I opened it and there inside was a picture of me taken the week before for school ID next term. In fact it was my school ID card — Girl’s High School ID… I looked up at mum and grabbed her by the neck in a monster hug. “Wow, that was quick, I feel like I really am real now.” In my mind a metaphorical tick went on the list of things I had to do, my chest hurt as if I was having a heart attack (not that I knew what one felt like) anxiety was a nasty creature, I was reminded of an old Black and white Vincent Price movie — “The Tingler” — I was brought back to reality
“--Well we don’t want you not being able to prove your identity when you use your credit card, do we?”
“Credit card? I looked deeper into the purse. Five ten pound notes, some change, a credit card with Miss Jenny K Holland on it, debit card also named to me.
I couldn’t see much more, the tears were falling so fast, “hey less tears into the bag, you’ll soak it.”
“Oh mum, you’re fantastic, and dad of course, but he’s not here so you get all the hugs…”
Suddenly, the abyss of my limit of competent thought was being reached, I sat down abruptly on the chair in the hall.
“It’s no good mum, I can’t do it, noway notime nohow. I can’t cope with all this so fast.” I wasn’t crying, I was in shock, my mind had shut down, I could hear my breath shuffling in and out like a steam train on a steep grade. The stars in front of my eyes turned into spangles and I felt the edge of my sight go black as I started to hyperventilate into unconciousness, I felt my mothers arm at my back as she lowered me to the floor….
I awoke a little later, I was on the sofa with a cool flannel on my forehead. I could hear mum in the kitchen on the phone. The words were not clear so I relaxed — I guess she was phoning the doctor. When she came back into the lounge, she had a worried look that she was trying to mask with a smile.
“That was Julie, she said that once you’d had a chance to get your breath back you should try to go and see your friends — it’s important that you don’t back out now as you may be left behind and that’ll be worse for you in the long run.”
I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece it had only moved 5 minutes from the time I had keeled over (or more or less since I’d looked at my watch as I left the house).
“You’re kidding me? I pass out from anxiety and you tell me to jump into the lion’s mouth anyway?”
“Julie said it was more likely a correcting action due to the excitement and the fear together. Don’t forget you’ve only been on HRT for a short while, it’s quite an emotional load.”
“Do you expect me to ignore it altogether? I haven’t got a clue how to react in any situation that involves interfacing with anyone other than one or two friends and my family. How do you expect me to cope with a mall full?”
Mum came over and sat with me, she took both my hands in hers — mine were still quite a bit smaller. “Are you seriously suffering darling? If you are we can go and see Julie and maybe get some tranquillisers or something, maybe she can hypnotise you.”
She made googly eye expressions and pretended to zombie her head. I shook my head and grinned at the ridiculous goon show.
“You’re right mum, but I need to rethink my position later — I don’t want to get onto drugs that I can’t get out of my system and I need to make as much use of the holidays as possible to learn who I am. I’m just going to have to take a deep breath and run with it and hope no one kills me in the meantime. Do I really pass OK?”
Mum narrowed her eyes and looked at me, “what do you mean by that?”
“Do you think you’d recognise me as a guy if you didn’t know?”
“Darling, I hate to tell you this, you’re not a guy at all, you certainly don’t look like one and you should be highly insulted if anyone looks twice at you with that in mind.”
I searched her face for a hint of a lie, I found none.
“I’m sorry mum, I have this awful feeling lurking at the back of my mind that I look like I used to and no one ever thought I was a girl before now.”
I got up from the sofa and my handbag fell from my lap where I’d forgotten it, I reached down and retrieved it. “I’d better go, Wendy will be wondering where I am.”
Mum held out her hand — in it were two cards — I looked at her with an expression usually seen on Christmas morning.
“OK the credit card has a limit of 200 pounds and the debit card may only be used in emergencies, the pin number is the last four digits of your id card, change it if you think you need to. You can draw up to 50 pounds on it. Sign the Visa card now” She handed me a pen.
“Since when do I get to have so much money to spend? Did you win the pools?”
“Well the fact is, that as long as you give me all the receipts for clothes that you buy, the insurance company will wear the cost, don’t spend up big on buying gifts for everyone, this is purely so you can build up your wardrobe. You’re not stupid and you’re not immature. They way you have worked through your gender problems have been a true mark of your courage and responsibility and this is the reward for your good grades in a time of what must have been pure hell. Treat the privilege wisely and you will retain it.”
Mum gave me a huge hug, patted my bottom and ushered me to the doorstep, “now go on, have a nice day with the girls and don’t kiss all the boys.” She grinned at the last statement. I almost stalled again.
“I never thought of that, there’ll be boys there mum, what’ll I do?”
“Just follow Wendy’s lead sweetie, you’ll be OK.”
It seemed no sooner I had stepped outside I was at Wendy’s door, pulse racing again.
“Come in, come in, give us a hug, summer holidays and we’re 15 and hot to trot, girl this is going to be a blast. Carol! Jenny’s here.”
“Bring her up here, we gotta shift and get into town.”
I was ushered into the bedroom where once my dreams had been to be invited. I was pushed into the stool by the vanity with my back to it and Carol got to work, “We’ll do this now, but you’ve got to learn this stuff or you’ll have to go without. We haven’t got time every day to dish you up.”
I have no idea what they did, but when I looked I appeared to be a little older and accentuated, but didn’t look like I was wearing makeup. I was duly impressed — it had only taken them about ten minutes too.
“MUM, we’re off into town now, we’ll be back at 4pm or we’ll ring.” Wendy sang out to her mum.
“Bring Jenny in here, I want to see what she looks like.”
Wendy groaned and turned me to the kitchen, “Go and get ‘the inspection’. We’re right behind you.”
Denise looked me up and down, “well I must say, you make a lovely young woman. Have a nice time, please try to stay together girls and don’t forget this is Jenny’s first time out in public. Oh and don’t forget she’s probably not been to the ladies yet, better give her the rundown on that too.”
“Well I have actually Mrs Roberts, but I’d appreciate any help anyway.” I tried to sound nonchalant but sounded a bit silly. I felt like throwing up really but I guess hurling wasn’t allowed if I was to get to town at all today.
Denise handed Wendy a ten pound note, Wendy’s eyes lit up, “wow thanks mum.”
“Make it count” was all Denise said.
We turned and left before she could put it in her purse… “coffee’s on you” Carol said hugging Wendy across the shoulders. We all snickered and headed for the bus stop.
Town was crowded with school kids — second day of holidays was like that… everyone finding their strategy for the coming weeks; who had transport, where the best coffee/boys/girls/snacks (even beer if you looked old enough) was to be had.
“You got any money Jenny?” Carol asked as we looked in the local shops.
“Actually I don’t like to say it, so keep it to yourselves, mum gave me a credit card but I have to treat it like a non-renewable resource — I don’t know how long I get to keep it, but the nicer I am with it, the longer it will be.”
The other girls looked at me with round eyes… “A CREDIT CARD? Holy Hell girl, you’ve been a girl 2 months and you managed to squeeze a card out of your folks? You are unreal!”
“I didn’t even ask actually, but I also don’t really know how much I can use it, so I have to be really careful. Besides, I have a few quid if I want to buy something for my wardrobe, but I need to know what you guys have so I can get something similar.
Just sort of catch up if you know what I mean.”
“Sounds like we get to have some fun trying stuff on anyway.”
“Have you got pierced ears?”
I pulled my hair back revealing virgin ears… “We’ll get that done this afternoon then” Carol offered…
I blanched
“Hey it’s not painful, I had it done when I was six.” Wendy consoled.
“Anyway you don’t want clip on stuff, they hurt heaps more and you knock them off all the time and lose them.” Carol added pulling on her hoops to show they don’t fall off. I winced, she laughed, “it doesn’t hurt silly.”
After we got settled into the coffee bar, Carol put her hand on my arm and asked gently if I would tell them all about what happened to me, they’d heard bits and I’d told them some, but they wanted to know all about it. I looked at them and hoped they had as much integrity as they appeared to. I really needed to tell them what the story was completely. I needed to trust them wholly. I stirred my frothy coffee and looked at my two friends.
“I’m going to tell you my story, and I’m not going to leave out any of it, good bad or indifferent, but I want to tell you also that I’m telling you this because you’re my best friends and I trust you. I don’t want this to become tittletattle and gossip. I want to leave this behind and have a real life without becoming the local weirdo. Ok?”
I looked at them again and they both nodded and placed their hands on mine, “We promise we won’t let you down Jenny,” Wendy looked so sincere and Carol affirmed with a “Me too, I promise.” I squeezed both their hands. I told them my story.
After the saga was finished, Wendy told me that she’d suspected I was a bit different but realised I wasn’t gay, she hadn’t worked out the transgender thing at all.
Lunchtime arrived and we had a plate of toasted sandwiches and some more coffee…
Then we went shopping, and before I could get onto the pavement from the coffee bar I was turned into the nail parlour next door — a sign on the wall said “ear piercing while you wait.”
I wondered how they did it if you didn’t wait.
I heard the click of the gun and felt almost nothing — painful it wasn’t but I ended up with a pair of blue topaz birth stone studs sparkling from my ears.
“Wash round them with antiseptic every 12 hours and turn them in your ear as often as you remember.” I was told by the assistant who tagged me.
I always wondered why girl’s played with their earrings…
At this point I only had one skirt, and three pairs of jeans/pants and a few tops — mostly Tshirts. I didn’t want to explode onto the scene as if I had no clothes, I wanted to build up quietly and be able to have the right clothes for the occasion — I hated the sort of buying that epitomises the bimboesque culture. All that afternoon, I didn’t see one person that I knew from school. But then I wasn’t in an area that catered to males for most of the time.
I went home that evening worn out and with two bags I’d spent only 25 pounds and I’d got two pairs of shorts and another skirt a lightweight jacket and some minor makeup products — enough for day wear in summer.
Mum was really chuffed that I hadn’t gone overboard.
Nigel had all but disappeared since we broke up but he rang to tell mum where he was on a regular basis — he wasn’t bad as a guy goes and he was quite responsible. He had actually gotten a job in town bussing tables at a restaurant in the evenings. During the day he was soaking up the sun at the local outdoor pool and ogling girls.
Living near the sea was something of a bonus as there was a lot of traffic in humans that go to the seaside in summer and hence there was a plethora of pubs clubs and restaurants in the area — Pubs were out for me for a while, but there was potential for work from the age of 16 — which is why being 15 is a bonus… it’s the last summer that you can be free of responsibility. I hated the beach and I don’t think I’d been there more than 6 times since I was 5. I hated the sand in my costume and the salt on my skin. I preferred the softness of a decent freshwater pool and knowing that you weren’t swimming in something someone flushed down the loo.
I was also conscious of the fact that for 1000 people in any large pool, there were only about 20 toilets… this was as off-putting as the sand so I tended to sit on grass and swim in private pools if I could. I didn’t have many friends whose fortunes extended to owning a pool (nor their parents for that matter).
As the week wore on and I acquired a sense of fashion Wendy and Carol made sure that I also acquired a Bikini. I had actually bought a one piece and it was really quite demure inasmuch as it covered more than most costumes that were available. Wendy had bought another bikini and I had thought it was for her. When I got home on the Wednesday, I found it in my bags along with the one I had bought with a little note, “keep the other one till you are a granny” a small heart and Wendy signed across the bottom.
I phoned her and asked her what the go was, “I don’t think I could ever wear a bikini Wendy, it’s a nice thought but you’ll have to take it back,” I felt I’d disappointed her. She put down the phone without another word. I was just finishing putting my stuff away, feeling a bit sad that Wendy had rung off and downcast generally about my general lack of discretion when Mum called upstairs, “Wendy’s here, I’ll send her up?” the last bit was a question and I shouted “sure, as long as she’s unarmed”. I could feel mum frown even from inside my room.
She appeared at the door (Wendy that is), “What’s all this about missy?” she waved her arm at the bikini that sat on the bed — her bikini — the four little triangles sown together, with stretchy string to hold them onto your body. Insubstantial and totally impractical, barely covering anything that one holds (or at least should hold) sacrosanct.
“Strip!” It was an order.
“Come on Wendy, you know I can’t do that, I’m not wearing a bikini this summer, I’ll never be able to hold my head up if someone recognises me as it is, with a bikini on, it makes it a thousand times worse. I feel like a target zone for every bigot and homophobe in the country.” I tried to keep my tears at bay but I felt my nose getting sniffy and I reached for a tissue.
Wendy sat on the bed next to the offending garment, “Jenny, please let me help you a little bit, I’m trying, really I am. I want you to slip quickly into the mainstream and I think I understand where you’re coming from. If you turn up at the pool with a ‘one piece’ on, they’re gonna go for your throat — why would you wear one of those? To cover something up — people are going to wonder what and you’re going to find a lot of curiosity and the type of attention you’re not seeking. If you want to wear the bikini with a Tshirt, then that’s probably ok — or even an open lightweight blouse, you can tie it under your boobs and make more of them too… I might even try it myself.”
She grinned suddenly at the thought of Ursula Andress in “She”, looking down over the bay at Villefranche.
I looked over at the bikini, lying innocuously on the bed, source of every man’s dreams and every badly shapen woman’s nightmare.
“Go on Jen, Please give it a try.”
I nodded not moving my eyes from the colourful object, “ok I’ll try it, avert your gaze while I remove my garments”… I flushed, god when am I going to get over this.
“If it will make you feel any better, I’ll strip as well,” Wendy offered… I flushed even more, my newly pierced ears throbbed suddenly, “NOOO, I don’t think that such a good idea.”
I disrobed and before I removed my panties I donned a robe then swapped them for the bikini bottom. It felt no different to the panties and felt in fact more substantial. I reached for the top and tried to position it. Wendy lent a hand and I was soon prim and proper (as you could be in a bikini).
“Well come on then, take off the dressing gown,” Wendy rolled her eyes in supplication to a mightier power. I complied. “Wow, you sure grew fast,” got through the roaring in my ears.
I looked across at the mirror and there I was, Jennifer K Holland spinster of this parish — clad in my first Bikini and I DIDN’T look like a boy — not in the slightest, not one iota.
“Mrs Holland, can I borrow you for a moment,” Wendy had called down the stair as I admired myself — mum appeared at the door, “that’s Auntie Beth dear if that’s ok by you.” She looked over at me by the mirror — she could see my back and the reflection of my front in the mirror, an instant all round view. “My, my, quite a knockout, ok who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” she grinned at my reflection.
I grinned back, my embarrassment taking a back seat to my awful pride. “Wendy bought it for me, is it ok?”
“I’d say so sweetie, that sure makes you look something, are you going to wear that to the pool? You’ll have all the boys drooling and making the pool water slimy.” I laughed out loud — my mother had given me the sort of boost that only a mother knows how. ‘I shall go to the ball’.
I had all Thursday to think about my day coming — I blew hot and cold and I backed out a dozen times. Only to reclaim the lost land when my confidence returned. I started to understand how my mind was working — I began to feel that I was beginning to live as me and not some mental cripple who had no right to be themselves.
So it happened that on the Friday of the first week I ended up at the pool wearing a little bikini, over it I wore a cropped halter top just to assuage my modesty and pure blue funk. I have to admit it was a fairly modest one which I filled reasonably well if you think of a 15 year old late into puberty. The remains of my manhood were all but indiscernible in my bikini bottom and hence my shape for a 100lb chick was about what you’d expect… a promise of things to come and worth reconnoitring.
I was there with Wendy and Carol of course (they made sure I was between them at all times- my request) and one or two others, Joanne and Helen, had come into the circle, so there were five of us lined up on the grassy bank above the pool edge. Joanne and Helen didn’t know of my sudden rise to fame and took me as a new kid on the block — I was regarded as a bit of a Tomboy as I was a little less refined, but stripped down, I had a tidy shape and was quite acceptable — particularly as my hair was luxuriant and my skin was in nice condition. Lying there watching the world pass by was nice and it wasn’t expensive — just a coke and some snacky stuff now and then… acquire a tan and give the boys something to ogle at.
A group of 5 guys about our age were doing the rounds and the other girls were making cracks about them, it didn’t interest me much so I dozed quietly until a shadow fell across my skin making me suddenly chill — “Hi Girls what’re you all doing makin’ this place look like the Riviera?” I recognised the voice….Nigel, my own bloody brother hadn’t the sense to stay away from me until I realised, he hadn’t recognised me yet he hadn’t seen past the sunglasses I was wearing and obviously hadn’t associated a pubescent chick with his ex brother.
The guys stood around as we all sat up expecting one of them to do the introductions.
Instead I jumped the gun hoping Nigel would back off, “Ah girls, my brother Nigel,” gesturing to him “and his friends Graham, Peter, Martin and Geoff.” Marking off the row. My brother’s face went paler than my backside. Oddly none of the guys turned a hair except him.
“Bloody hell Nigel — you didn’t tell me your sister was a babe” Peter enthused.
“Oh forgive me guys I’m Jenny this is Joanne, Helen, Carol and Wendy.”
I lay back down and started to sweat. I had just tested every line in the sand — at once.
I had put all my eggs into the one basket and all my cards on the table, I clichéd my whole existence waiting for the other shoe to fall.
“How’s about you all accompanying us up to the Lakeside Café for a drink? Graham pipes up. My brother is saying something about having to go early and sidling away a bit. I’m not in the least interested in making out with a load of Nigel’s friends, but my friends are interested, so I guess it’s a good ploy to get them all into the same circle.
I wonder if they realise we’re only 15 and they’re mostly 18.
Is that too big a gap? I don’t know, maybe they’ll wander off, maybe they won’t.
We got up and slung our towels around our shoulders and picked up our bags — we seem to have snagged ourselves some free coffees. I felt sick, I felt like someone was going to rip me another hole just as soon as they discovered my brother’s brother was my brother’s sister.
What I didn’t know was that my brother and his friends had already decided on who they wanted to escort and as we sorted ourselves I found myself next to Martin who uttered the immortal words, “I didn’t know Nige had a sister, you seemed to know us, have I met you before?”
“Ah — there’s a photo of you on Nigel’s dresser — from when you went skiing last year. He pointed you all out to me. I have a funny memory for faces.” I tried to suppress the laugh and the hysteria mounting in my chest. This was some bluff I was hauling. I hope I didn’t get it all out of shape.
Martin pulled a chair back for me to sit on and I draped my towel over the back and seat so I didn’t burn my tush, I smiled a thank you at him. Nigel in the meantime has picked up Wendy who is looking a bit overwhelmed by the attention. Nigel is not happy. By the looks of it he’s realised we’re all too young to earn his wings on — and one of them is his sister….
He came over to me and leaned over to whisper, “My god, what’re we going to do?”
“Why ask me? you’re the one who can’t recognise his own sister. Do they know we’re only 15 year olds for a start?”
My dear idiot brother smacked his forehead and said, “Thanks, that’s it, I’ll tell them you’re all underage and we can back off gracefully.”
“Don’t bet on it, I just watched Graham and he’s really into Carol. You may be stuck with us, I hope you can warn Martin that if he touches me you’ll kill him. He’s going to get a big shock if he gets into my panties.”
Nigel groaned, “My God, what a mess. I’ll sort it out.”
He stood and went to regroup with his mates — I’m feeling wretched by this time, almost nauseous with anxiety. Helen leaned over and commiserated, “I know how you must be feeling — all your brother’s mates, the guys you’ve always wanted to keep clear of, my brother’s mates are too old thank God but they leer at me all the time.”
“These guys are all over 18 too,” I returned, “I wouldn’t want to go out with them, all hands and hairy faces yuck.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad to me…” Helen smiled back at me and giggled suddenly — obviously thinking about the hands bit.
The men returned with a tray loaded with cold drinks, “first in best dressed,” Martin called” and I grabbed a Coke — there was a lot of Pepsi and Fanta on that tray and I hate them.
“Nigel tells me you’re all jailbait?” Martin said quietly, “I’m ok with that, how do you feel?”
Suddenly it was all up to me, “Well personally I think you’re ok, but the fact you’re a mate of Nigel’s messes me up a bit. I’m not sure it would work too well.” I’m trying to dampen his ardour and not give the game up for my friends.
“I’d need to confer, but I think it’s up to individual tastes. What do you think?”
“Well I think Nigel is a sod for keeping it quiet he had a sister as well as a brother, you look quite a lot like him too.” He smiled at me.
I’m thinking my God he knows. Does he know? He can’t know. He must know, will he hurt me? Everyone else is laughing and joking and having a great time. I’m sinking fast — trying to get Nigel’s attention but he’s locked eyes with Wendy and I can’t break in.
“Are you ok?” Martin sounded concerned but not overly.
“Yeah I’m ok, I’m just not used to being in Nigel’s territory, he’s very diffident when it comes to his mates — he’s warned my to keep away from you guys, he doesn’t want to have squabbles with his mates over his sister’s virtue.” I put it bluntly.
“Oh, I see,” he stood up and walked over to Nigel leaving me feeling guilty and isolated. Nigel rose when Martin neared him. They conferred for a moment or two then Nigel sat down again. Martin returned.
“He said he trusted me.” He grinned and asked, “do you?”
“Actually no, but I’m willing to talk to you this afternoon if you want, just to keep my friends happy.” I gave him a short smile.
“So be it.” He bowed his head, “Seems I have this afternoon to convince you that I’m a good guy.”
“I‘d rather you didn’t, I really don’t want to develop this any further.” I pushed trying to convince him that it was no use. “He replied “No pain, no gain.”
The next hour or two was difficult, I came over as a Tomboy and I knew too much about sports and cars and stuff. It seemed I was Martin’s kind of girl and he was even more convinced I should be his girlfriend or at least give him a try.
Some of the other girls had really paired off and seemed happy to have an 18 year old as a BF. I wasn’t happy about it at all. I knew I would be pumped about these guys and I knew some pretty base stuff about them. I’d sat in on some of their conversations and been appalled by their second brains coming into play as they described what they’d done to this girl or that. The girls would get to know but I couldn’t hold open court on it now.
Eventually the sun sank low enough for us to need to cover up and we rose to leave and change. Martin turned my face towards him with his finger under my chin and before I could react, he’d kissed me. “I hope you’ll reconsider,” I was too stunned to answer, I just looked down and picked up my bag, trying to hold off the tears. I’m not sure what the tears signified, joy that I was a woman, fear that I would be killed by him for not declaring my past or misery that I wasn’t able to make it happen again.
The other girls (other girls — yup that’s me, one of them) were all ready to go so we upped and left the guys — some of us had given out telephone numbers — no one needed mine — they all knew Nigel’s. I needed space because the other girls hadn’t been au fait with my past — so they knew little except that my brother’s mates were their potential boyfriends and that they’d seen me being kissed by Martin.
Helen, who was closest to me (she was sat next to me at the café), had seen the twinkle in Martin’s eye. “Girl, you surely got him to come on line fast, conquest no 1 for the summer and it’s not a week old.”
“Aw come on Helen, he just fancied his chances with his mate’s little sister, he reckons he’s on privileges.”
“Yeah — like Le Droit de signeur privileges you mean?”
Joanne asked, “What’s Le Droit De Signeur then?”
“The right of the lord of the manor to have the bride of one of his serfs on the first night of the honeymoon.”
My face paled, I hadn’t realised that meaning either. “Gawd, don’t go there…”
Helen giggled and was about to tease me some more when Carol came over and gave me a hug and told me not to worry. She explained to Helen I’d had a bad experience with a family friend when I was younger. Pure lie, but it fitted quite well with how I was feeling.Two weeks ago I had the same accoutrements as Martin, now he was testing the temperature of my tonsils with his tongue. I suddenly felt sick. I dry reached a couple of times and Helen suddenly looked a bit frightened.
“You ok?”
“I’ve felt better.”
We split up and went our way, Carol and Wendy of course coming my way.
Wendy was quite pleased she had ‘trapped’ my brother. I asked her not to kiss him in front of me — at least not yet, I was still in culture shock for someone whom I regarded as my old girlfriend. I really didn’t want to have that image in my mind.
“Sorry, yes that must be a bit off of me.” She chided herself looking guilty and reaching out her hand and touching my arm. I squeezed her hand, “S’ok.”
We parted at our gate and I promised to ring with any news as did they.
Mum and dad were home, Nigel wasn’t. I decided to tell mum what had transpired before I told dad so she could break it gently to him if she thought it was touchy material. I spoke timely words of wisdom, Dad hit the walls fast enough to stay off the floor for two full circuits.
“What do you mean he kissed a boy?” I heard through the walls.
“A friend of Nigel’s? I’ll kill him taking advantage of my little girl…”
I buried my head in my pillow — I didn’t want to hear any more. Trouble is, it wasn’t going to go away. It wasn’t just the fact dad had become protective of me, he still hadn’t even worked out the pronouns. I knew this wasn’t going to be a short haul situation.
Nigel came through the door about 30 minutes later nonchalantly whistling tunelessly through his teeth… I was wondering if he’d have any left when dad had fini--- “NIGEL !! front and centre!”
I sat stiffly waiting for the “Jenny” call.
It came, gently from the bottom of the stairs “Jenny dear, could you come down, we need to clear this up.”
“Coming.”
I looked at mum as I descended, no hint of wrath in her face, her eyes regarded me with soft and loving care. I relaxed.
“Ok, we seem to have hit a real sticky spot here, Nigel says he would’ve backed off from introducing if he’d realised you were there. What is your version?”
I looked over at Nigel, his face looked pale and I could see pleading and fear in his eyes.
“I introduced them simply because I would’ve looked stupid if I hadn’t — If Nigel had cared to actually recognise me by being familiar with who I am it might have helped a lot. I also found myself unable to chat with him after he abandoned me to the “charms”(I wiggled my fingers in the air for the emphasis) of his mate. I’m not sure if he felt it was his duty to help his mates find some female company, but I thought it a bit crass of him to let his sister get familiar with someone that he knows might have identified his “brother” (I wiggled my fingers again) and caused no end of damage both to his circle of friends and mine. I was not amused.”
“What about this kissing?” My father probed looking me squarely in the eyes for some indication that I’d liked it.
“It happened, I wasn’t expecting it, and though I was appalled at first, the idea wasn’t hard to come to terms with.” I looked over at Nigel — I could sense rather than see relief in his eyes.
“So you are telling me that you’re going to be available to boys?” My father looked sickened.
I suppose he really hadn’t thought it through any more than I had. Even though he’d given me the go ahead to be female accepted me as his daughter, he still regarded me as something of a sexless person. Had I been the one to have kissed another girl previous to this, he’d have been proud I guess.
“I’m really sorry to have to shake the basket like this, but I’m a girl dad, and though I didn’t expect to be in this position three months ago, nevertheless I am. I’m nearly 16 years old, I’m full of hormones - female hormones — and I have discovered that I’m heterosexual. I’m sorry if that’s not what you expected.”
I hadn’t foreseen the irritation that my kiss would cause both me and my father, but we’d taken diametrically opposed sides and though I didn’t want to let Nigel off the hook for causing this situation, it made sense to me that he hadn’t really made too much of the scenario.
“I would like to add however that Nigel should ring his mate, Martin, and tell him to lay off his sister. I have been in company with him whilst he’s been bragging about his conquests and I don’t like the idea of being with him… or holding hands with him either.” I grimaced and shuddered remembering the times he’d boasted about his masturbation ‘techniques’ and I felt quite sickened.
“Fair enough I think Nigel, what do you think?” My father pointed his question with his eyes, brow lowered and teeth almost gritted. He was master of the house again and Nigel was back to being the young buck.
“Ok, I ring the guys and tell them to leave off.” He sounded completely done like a dinner.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” (am I daft or what).
All eyes turned back to me. “All I want is Martin to leave me alone, I’m not going to answer for the other girls, though I will tell them via Wendy and Carol who know my past what sort of guys they are, so as to be forewarned.” I felt manipulative and conniving all of a sudden, I had got the situation where it needed to be, with us Girls. Did I just think that….?
My dad grinned, “Christ you’re just like your mum,” mum patted me on the shoulder and gave me a “that’s my girl,” under her breath.
“Nigel, ring your mates and tell them to back off, I’m not going to be hearing about this sort of stuff again. Is that clear?” Father has spoken.
“Yes dad,”
“Now!”
“Ok ok, I’m shaking the bush, I’m shaking the bush” he left to phone round.
“I’m happy that you let us know what happened, I’m glad you have that sort of confidence in us, I will try not to interfere unless I feel that you’re going too fast, is that understood Jenny?” My father stood in front of me, I looked up into his eyes, I was a little taken aback, there was a tenderness there that I’d never seen in my life. I threw myself into his arms and whispered, “Yes daddy, I love you, thank you.” Had I looked up at that point I would have seen the wetness in his eyes that reflected my own.
When Nigel reported back he said that he’d warned Martin off and that Martin had been really pissed with him, but understood. The other guys had also decided to stay as a group rather than try their hand with the girls on an individual basis.
“I didn’t think it through sis, I’m really sorry. I’d pretty much forgotten that you were Jerry and had been almost part of the group when they were round here. I guess that must be pretty disgusting. I’m starting to understand why guys don’t let their mates date their sisters. Won’t happen again.” He gave me a shoulder hug and tousled my hair, I looked up at him… then slapped his face, he was looking down my front again.
“MEN!”
We went through for tea.
Once the commotion had died down over the weekend, we (!) girls all got together again and pretty much decided to make a pact to chase boys on an individual basis as it was too fraught with angst to try to match five guys with us as a group.
So we were back to lounging in the sun if it was out and dossing in the café if it was rainy. One or two of the girls did get off with guys there but for the time being I was happy to acquire the taste slowly so to speak.
End of Part 2
To Be Continued...
Julie had my last set of levels and told me that I was bang in the middle of the range for my age and that my liver function was excellent and that there didn’t seem to be any problems. In the interview we discussed how I felt about male company and I found that I had genuinely found some guys attractive but I didn’t feel I was ready to take it one step further.
We also discussed my development and my physical appearance. Julie was quite excited with my progress and asked if what she saw pushing out my top was all me — I assured her it was and she asked if I’d do a twirl for her so she could assess all the changes. “Are you taking measurements?” She asked afterwards.
“No, I am just finding the clothes fitting a bit better where they’re supposed to really — I know my boobs hurt a lot most of the time and my nipples are huge compared to what they were, and they seem to be hard all the time.”
“Is anyone taking photos of you at the pool?” She asked as if she’d just thought of something.
“Yes Helen took some the other day, why?” I was puzzled.
“Well I presume you were wearing a costume?”
“Yes, a bikini.”
“Could you get me a copy for my file? I think I’d like to get one of you from about six months ago too if that’s possible?”
“Sure, I think I can manage that — whole body or portrait?”
“Whole body if you have one”
“Yes. I’ve got one of me in the back yard at Easter, I was hanging off the washing line practising.”
“What were you practising?”
“Crucifixion of course, it was Easter” — I was thinking of continuing that line of joke, but I could see she was frowning — I chortled. “I’ll get you the piccie — you’ll see what I mean.”
“Nuff said,” she waved her hands. “See you next time.”
She wrote in the margin as I left, ‘stable, confident, secure.’
I wish I felt it.
About the middle of the third week I was believe it or not, beginning to get bored. Mum and Dad had decided to forego a holiday this year since Nigel wasn’t old enough to look after the house on his own (party time!!!) and the expense of my change was not going to be reimbursed by the insurance company for some more months — they said quarterly but that was from their start date which was about the end of July.
I asked mum if I could get a job, she reminded me that I was only 15 and I had to wait. I wasn’t 16 for a while yet (March) I had a long way to go. I took up tennis instead and Carol decided that she’d like to do it too — Wendy backed off and said it was hard enough to keep fit without doing things like play tennis. Apparently she had a history of tripping over her feet and damaging her wrists.
Tennis was a lot of fun and I thought I was doing great until I played a lad who was actually a year younger than me and a bit smaller — he beat me so thoroughly that I felt ashamed and lost my impetus for the competitive sports.
“Mum?” I called her attention as I scrunched into some really warm buttered toast, honey dripping from the fold.
“What precious? Did you spill some of that goo off your bread?”
“No, I was just thinking that I’m just so useless at tennis, perhaps I should try something like badminton or table tennis.”
“What makes you think you’d be any better at those? — why not go for broke and say Golf? The clubs are only about 400 pounds a set and the fees a mere 500 a year…look petal I just bought you a tennis outfit and a very nice racquet, could you keep it up for a while longer?”
“Well there is another reason, my boobs are getting in the way and they’re very tender and I keep rubbing them with my arms and it stops me making some of the shots and makes my serve rubbish.” I finished all in a rush.
Mum sat opposite me as I finished my toast. “It’s called body mapping dear, you are growing faster than your mind can keep up and it makes you clumsy like Wendy is at the moment.” I had to grin, remembering her falling over her doorstep the day before.
“Oh I see.”
“This is one year where you may be better off learning something like Swimming — but you won’t go in the pool much because you’re such a wus about the chemicals.”
“I’m a wus about the faeces mum, and all the urine. The chemicals are in there to prevent them from infecting us.” I shuddered and mum shook her head to clear away the image…
“Mmm, I get your drift,” we looked at each other sensing the awful pun and burst out laughing together.
“Hey how about sailing? There’s a sailing club down on the bay and you can meet some really nice people too.”
“Can I get lessons?” I was suddenly eager to take her up on this — it seemed ideal.
I suddenly daydreamed about some sexy guy in a roll neck sweater at the yacht club wining and dining me. Well buying me a coke and fries anyway!!
“Well why don’t you pop down to the bay chandlery and ask in there, they’re bound to know.” So I had a quest for the day.
I rang Wendy and asked if she’d like to come too, she said yes after a small pause, much to my surprise. I think she had daydreamed my daydream! Carol had latched onto a couple of guys at the tennis club I got a negative from her and I nearly got earache because she was lining me up with her potential boyfriend’s pal. I’m glad I wasn’t involved — the pal was a spotty red haired boy with dirty fingernails and knobbly knees (I found out later he was also Gay).
Wendy and I met up and caught the bus down to the bay — it was a nice spot and full of ice cream parlours and fish and chip shops. There was no fishing here since it was a sandy bay but there were always fresh shrimps and cockles and even whelks (eeewww) As we walked along the front it was interesting to note that the beach was littered with boys about our age — it seemed they had nothing to do either and no money to do it with. They played footy between piles of clothes used as virtual goalposts and Frisbee and volleyball — it seems 15 is the year for developing kids.
There were of course plenty of other folks on the beach and the colourful towels and umbrellas gave a jaunty air to the scene, the bay was full of little white triangles — the sails that we might be hauling on in the days to follow. We stopped for a milk shake and a doughnut before we reached the boatyard where the sailing club was. I hated paying tourist prices but I guess I was using their space so I had to pay the price. I would be glad when the tourists went home. Sadly that would be just before we went back to school. The thought suddenly made me draw breath.
“Someone walk over your grave?”
“Nah, my desk. I was just thinking about going to girls school this autumn.” I sucked on my straw — Banana milkshakes are yummy.
I caught sight of two guys come in the café and sit two tables over, they gave us the once over. I suddenly felt really shaky.
“What’s up? you really look weird now,” she furrowed her brow in consternation.
“Those guys, they were in my class,” I shrunk down behind Wendy so they couldn’t see me.
“I thought you were in a class of your own?” Wendy joked while trying to get a glimpse of the two guys in the mirror over the counter. “Hey they look ok.”
“Shut the hell up will you? I don’t want them to hear you and come over, damn, too late.”
The guys rose like they’d spotted some delicacy they’d like to acquire. They had, us.
“Hi, can we join you, we’re at a loss of what to do and you look similarly engaged.”
That was the biggest sentence I’d heard from David in the 7 years I’d known him.
He was really quiet normally and though well liked was a shy boy and kept much to himself — Tony was his only pal and true to form he was there at David’s elbow.
Wendy turned to the guys, “Hi we’re actually just going to see if we can learn to sail, but we decided to have a drink first, this is Jenny,” she introduced me, “and I’m Wendy.” The boys dragged over two stools as if they’d been invited and I let out my breath, it seems they were pretty much blind — they didn’t recognise someone they’d known for 7 years.
“Hi, we’re David and Tony,” David motioned to himself then Tony as he spoke. “Do you live round here?”
“Bus ride away, one stage,” Wendy offered.
“Great,” David looked like he’d won the lotto. “You too?” he looked at me with big cow eyes, I grinned suddenly thinking ‘oh my God, he’s after ME.
“Yeah, me too the number 17 from here.” Giving him an indication that it was in almost the same direction as them. They looked even happier if that was possible. I was reminded of Garfield’s sidekick.
I looked at them and they looked ok as far as boys do, and I realised that with these two hanging about it was likely that we wouldn’t be pestered too much by others — I had been ogled and accosted every day so far and whilst it was innocuous in the main, it was nevertheless a bit unnerving and tested me emotionally.
“Does it cost much?” I was brought to Earth.
“Pardon?” I almost jumped at the connotations that rose.
“Sailing, does it cost much to do it?” Tony volunteered.
“Oh., sorry, I was miles away. I don’t know we haven’t asked yet. Did you want to try it too?”
They looked at each other and both turned to us and beamed a big “YES! If you will”
We finished our drinks and rose to leave, the guys didn’t even have one. “Aren’t you going to have a drink?” Wendy picked it before I did.
“We’ll come with you if that’s ok?” David wasted no time.
In the Chandlery the sign was up for sailing school — I suddenly thought about my daydream of before and the sailor in the roll neck sweater buying me dinner then I saw the reality — an old school acquaintance, like a puppy dog panting at my heels. Ah well.
“Excuse me, could you tell us about the sailing school, we thought we’d like to try it?” I advanced to the old guy behind the counter — he looked less like an old seafaring man than a bank teller. He was sort of white smooth and round like a gobstopper (sucky sweet) with a combover and black horn rimmed glasses. He wasn’t tall and I’d say he was badly dressed but he was wearing a brown shop coat over his clothes so it was hard to tell.
“Yeas my little love,” he started, “there’s a school starting next week on Monday morning. You’ll need to fill in these forms and read the indemnity clause and if you’re under 16 your parent or guardian will have to sign.” He handed out a form.
“We’ll need four of them being as how there’s four of us,” I looked him in the eye, he levered his eyes off Wendy’s chest, Wendy didn’t look amused. Tony hadn’t noticed, he was looking at the same spot. “Sorry miss,” he said proffering the extra documents like sweeties… I had an image of him offering sweets to little kids … I felt sick.
“El Yucko, what a dirty old man,” I looked at Wendy as she flicked imaginary dirt off her clothes, “I hate guys like that, it’s so slimy.”
We sat down on a bench that overlooked the quay and the boys sat down David on my side and Tony on Wendy’s — I looked at Wendy and she shrugged and smiled back — she was comfortable with our puppies. I was too — it took all the hardship out of being a newbie at this — they would accept anything to be at our side. Behind our backs as we read the brochures and forms the guys looked at each other and smiled the smile of conquering heroes. We didn’t mind, and had I been one of the guys, I might have thought the same way. I had come a long way in the last few months. We left the boys on the bus on the way home, they were looking forward to seeing us on the Monday for the start of the course.
The cost of the sailing school was minimal and subsidised by the RNLI (Royal National Lifeboat Institution) which was fantastic. I guess they would rather have trained sailors out on the water than ignorant people they would have to rescue. All we had to do was supply our own clothing and indemnify the club if we drowned. I hope they were good teachers. Mum was as pleased as punch, she’d got us out of her hair for almost nothing and the clothing was to be scruffy stuff (not that I had any ) that didn’t matter if it got soaked.
I spent the weekend reading a rather old book on sailing that I found on the bookshelf — mum said all the names of the bits of rope and stuff were locked in history and would be the same now. I could imagine if it had been changed, it would sound a bit silly…. ‘Hoist the main engine’ — ‘reef that propellor’… Ah what wit.
Of course the boats we were to sail were the most ludicrous little tubs in the world — Mirror Dinghies. And motorless as even a Seagull Outboard engine would be too powerful for a boat of such miniscule dimensions.
Sunday we had a BBQ and dad decided to let me cook the meat, which meant it wasn’t a burnt offering — I must be daft because he said, “looks like you’ll be doing the cooking in future, you’re a natural.”
I managed to cook everything but the potato salad and coleslaw — which mum did ( no she didn’t cook it).
As we sat adjusting our belts after gorging on meat patties and sausages and loads of fried onions, dad looked over at me and I sensed he wanted to ask me some questions that may be difficult not only to answer but even for him to frame.
“Jenny, I’m not really helping you much at the moment, I don’t know how to — it is outside my ken (knowledge), I know mum said you’re doing Ok and I’ve seen the reports back from Julie (reports? I didn’t know she was reporting back!) that describe you as stable and enjoying life.
What I need to know from you is that you understand where you’re heading and an honest appraisal of how you’re coping with all this new stuff.”
It wasn’t a question, but it was a request for information on how I was doing. Dad looked quite pained, like he didn’t know who he was talking to. A stranger even. It felt awful. I could see he loved the noodles out of me but that he was lost in the cultural gap that he thought wasn’t going to be there as I grew up. Suddenly I was an alien. I wanted to go over and sit on his knee and give him a huge hug. A feeling I hadn’t felt since I was about seven guess.
Instead I left a silent gap for a moment then I looked at him — it was still daylight and warm. It was only 8 pm.
“You know when I look at you, I see someone different too, not the tough guy I’m going to model my life on, my role model, my friend and confidante. I see this kind and protective man, who has sacrificed his time to nurture and love his children and wife as best he can. Someone who will love me for who I am, no matter who I am. Who will one day give me away when I walk up the aisle in my wedding dress.”
He gasped suddenly as he pictured me in my wedding gown, a wonderful guy on my arm and proud family gathered round.
“I know it’s hard to imagine when I was your little boy just a few months ago. It’s harder for me even, since I hadn’t perceived that I was even destined to have this happen to me. Everything is different now, my friends, my future, my school, the only constants are my family. And most constant of all my mum and dad who shine out like a beacon with trust and love for me to follow.”
My eyes were glistening, I was trying to convey my love and my understanding of how they were treating me. So well that I had no compunction to hide or sidle away from anything I felt or thought. My complete trust and faith. Mum had been listening at the patio door as I spoke and came over and stood behind me and put her hands on my shoulders and kissed the top of my head.
“That’s a wonderful thing to say darling. I have to admit that we don’t tell each other of our love anywhere near often enough. I’d like to say that I love you both I’m very happy to have had the chance to know someone as lovely as you both are and proud to call you my daughter and my husband.” She gripped my shoulders again then let go, “Now come inside before the sand flies carry you off, and you have your sailing school tomorrow so get your gear ready — you can pay with your credit card.”
I went inside, mum dallied with dad outside and I could hear giggling and smooching so I left them to it…
I knew it, I just knew it — the weather was awful — blowy and cold. I rugged up in jeans and a windcheater over a woolly sweater. A pair of old trainers would suffice for this school so I wasn’t worried when I left the house. Wendy was at the bus stop and the bus arrived almost as I did — what impeccable timing. The guys were already on the same bus, so we felt obliged to sit with them — they grinned like grinning things when they saw us — words escaped me to see such a happy pair.
“Morning, nice weather for ducks eh?”
“Quack.”
“Morning Ducky.”
Oh the hilarity… I hate wet weather… I felt all steamed up already.
We got to the ing and the door was open so we walked in — the room was like a double garage lined with whiteboards with charts and zigzags and arrows all over the place in chinagraph pencil, there were 9 people there and one guy who looked like he was in charge (because he was wearing waterproof trousers and wellies.) He wasn’t in charge just a messenger, “The instructor will be a few minutes late — introduce yourselves and pass the indemnity forms to me if you would.” He held out his hand and had the forms in a few seconds — everyone was so clued in — it’s funny that a voluntary course will improve effective communication a hundredfold.
There were a few chairs scattered about and I pulled off my windcheater and draped it over a chair and turned the chair in towards where the others were — the class seemed to hold no one over the age of about 18 and two young guys looked about 14. Two more entered the room as we began to get organised — “anyone know how many there will be?” a question from one of the unknowns.
I volunteered, “the slimy guy in the shop didn’t even take names so I doubt anyone will know until we start.” As I spoke the instructor walked in, “the guy in the shop’s name is Arthur, my name is Al, I’m going to try to teach you how not to drown in a small boat and possibly how to sail it to a place where you intend with the minimum loss or damage. ‘Ah someone with a bit of wit.’ Crossed my mind.
“The boats you will be sailing,” he furthered, “will be the ubiquitous Mirror Dinghy, the only thing The Mirror tabloid ever got right. It’s easy to sail and easy to capsize and just as easy to uncapsize so you’re all in luck because you’ll be doing a lot of that.” He looked from one to the other and when he didn’t see anyone who looked scared, he moved on. “take a seat and point it generally in the direction of that wall — if you actually want to be able to see what we’re doing — he pointed at a wall with a large chart of our little bay. And an expanse of clean whiteboard.
I ended up sitting between Tony and David with Wendy next to David on the other side. We went round the class and introduced ourselves — I felt very self-conscious, but then I think most people do.
“Hi I’m Jenny I go to the Girls High school. I’m in year 11 this autumn.”
Sam the oldest student there at 18 was a bit thick it seemed but I found out later he was painfully shy and his mother had put him on the course to give him an outlet to make him less awkward. He was nice looking and due to go to Uni in three months to read medicine. The rest were all grouped around our age and seemed regular sorts.
That morning we needn’t have worried about getting soaked Al didn’t want us out in the boats in an offshore wind — not first time out anyway. The Mirror Dinghy didn’t ‘point’ too well and getting back if we could, would have been a major task. He had us tie some knots and learn the specifics of the little bathtub we were due to navigate. It seemed more like a cockleshell or a coracle with a sail than a boat, but they were unsinkable and due for praise as the most easy to use boat in existence.They only had one sail and a self supporting mast(no rigging) for a start.
We broke for a cuppa at ten thirty and there was a plate of biscuits. I suddenly found myself isolated from the group by my erstwhile boyfriend. I wondered if that was intentional or was it just one of those things. I truly hoped he wasn’t a jealous/possessive sort.
“Enjoying it so far?” Ok so he wasn’t the world ‘s most enlightened interviewer.
“Yeah the bit about the rabbit hole and the rabbit running round the tree was fun,” oh dear, I have my sarcastic hat on.
David looked at me for a hint of whether I was serious. I looked back at him. Suddenly he said, “What’s your surname?” He looked down at my folder — “Holland,
I knew it, I know your brother, is he your twin? I didn’t know he had a sister, he’s in my class, I’ve known him for, he doesn’t have a sister, I’ve been to his house for a birthday party.” He looked at my boobs suddenly wondering if they were real I guessed.
My mind was hijacked by a surge of adrenalin, I looked at him — Inside I felt absolute horror. Outside I hadn’t moved — not a muscle. “My cousin Jerry you mean?” I floundered. He was still checking out my chest. “Up here for facial communication David” His eyes moved up to my face.
“I’m so sorry, I had this sudden feeling that you were Jerry dressed up in drag… how daft can I get. You’re nothing like Jerry really just superficial — it was just that expression, I’ve seen it on Jerry so often.”
He looked me up and down and said, “you’re taller than Jerry too,” at that point he saw my sneakers. They were the same make as his, for good reason, he’d seen mine and asked me where I got them. He looked at my face again. “What?” I thought wildly why he was looking at me like a dog looks at a bone. “Those are Jerry’s sneakers.”
“You’re right, they are, so what?” I’m starting to sweat here, Wendy comes over just at that moment. “Hi guys what’s happnin?”
“David was just saying that he recognised Jerry’s sneakers cause he has some the same” — (he was wearing them, I had looked) “He actually recognised me from my resemblance to Jerry, isn’t that amazing?” My God I should lie for England at the Olympics.
“ I wonder why Jerry didn’t take them with him when he went to Scotland?” Wendy threw me a lifeline.
“He said his mum had bought him a new pair and he didn’t have room in his pack.”
I watched David relax out of the corner of my eye. My relief was at least tenfold of his! I realised I needed to watch every word now — when we went back to the chairs I sat next to Wendy and defused David’s intentions of having me as a crew mate. I needed some space for a while. David, I guessed, hadn’t fully let go of the idea of me being Jerry and I could feel his eyes on me most of the afternoon.
“Right class, see you on Wednesday,” I looked at the timetable not realising til then that Tuesday wasn’t on the schedule, it was the Day the Lifeboat went out and Al was a lifeboatman. We walked out into weak sunshine and a steaming road. The weather was much better and the wind had dropped — by Wednesday it would be ideal. Would I survive that long.
David came over, “Hey look--, in there,” he pointed at the sailing club over his shoulder with his thumb, “I didn’t mean anything by it, I just had a horrible thought, that you … well you know.”
“Yeah and I had a horrible thought too, that I might have made the mistake of liking you, except that you think I’m masculine enough to be a guy. That’s horrid.” I looked like I was about to cry — I was about to cry.
He made to put his hand on my shoulder, I stepped back and made my shoulder the farthest point from his hand… “No way, Jose. Not after that.”
I was not going to let him any closer EVER. Closed door. He looked dejected and turned away.
That night I cried, I cried for myself. That I was living in the shadow of Jerry and I knew it was going to take a while before my life became mine — if ever.
I had told mum when I got home what had happened, she commiserated and told me that life wasn’t meant to be easy and that there were so many boys out there “that if you weren’t careful you’ll run into another one any day now.”
Wisdom comes in some weird phrases. Fish in the sea and pebbles on the beach. She told dad, he came to me later and said if “anyone so much as looks sideways at you” he’d kick them and their dad into the next world. What a bully he is… I gave him a big hug and told him David still didn’t know and he never would.
We went to the sailing club on the Wednesday and guess what? David and Tony weren’t there. I relaxed and we went sailing. It wasn’t easy and we had a lot of laughs — I hadn’t realised, but most of the bay was so shallow that you could stand up in it most of the time. Wendy crewed with me and we learned to sail out little boat.
We got soaked every day for the week. I had to throw those sneakers out by Friday because they were rotten. On the Saturday we had to race to get the trophy for best students of the course.
The wind was really tricky and the triangular course had one leg that was directly up water and up wind — it was due to be a long tack. Sam and Susan who had hit it off on the course were in the lead and were followed by our intrepid band of sailors (David and Tony had given it away, they didn’t come back or complete the course) with Wendy and me in the tail as we’d been caught up on the bottom on the start and the centreboard was jammed we had to get out and push (literally).
When the first corner marker came up, they were all in bunch and when they tacked, they all spilled the wind at the same time and all but one capsized. By the time they had got going again and emptied their boats (bailing buckets were supplied !) we had passed them and were lying second to the two youngest in the course Brian and Bill, two 14 year old boys who I think were an item — which shocked me a bit. They had the weirdest way of smiling at each other … anyhow back to the race.
We reached the second marker and turned into the wind it send us straight backwards so we jibed off and tacked well out to the land side where the tide was running a bit the other way. Once we reckoned we’d made enough water we tacked back and realised we’d tacked too soon and would miss the third marker before our sprint home.
We looked for the opposition and they were right behind us but hadn’t tacked yet so they had more water than us — they would make it — we tacked away again — and as we dived under the sail, Wendy cracked her scone and went straight back over the side — she came up standing about 20 feet behind the boat spluttering and coughing, but ok. I whipped the boat round and slipped straight back for her but by the time we were under way again, we were third!!
We tacked down further to the coast and went way past where the others had tacked in the vain hope that they’d tacked too early — suddenly we found that the current was going our way and we were going a lot faster and the sail wasn’t straining as before — we tacked over and we sprang at the wind — making a heading way past the third marker and about a knot faster than the opposition, we could feel the raw energy of the 100 square foot of sail (maybe the keel board was dragging in the sand?).
We were leaning forward as if to encourage the boat along when we realised Sam‘s boat had stopped completely and the boat of the youngsters had flipped. The youngsters were frantically trying to upright their dinghy as Sam was trying (like we had to at the beginning) to release the keel board so that they could move — they did, but as soon as the keel board came up they went sideways losing their sea advantage.
We were going to win! Tthe other boats were behind us as they’d followed us out to the good current we were about 3 minutes ahead of the next boat over the line which was Courtney and Gill — two girls our age. We high-fived them ‘Girls reign supreme’.
Bridget, Susan’s sister had sailed with Al as crew and Al was playing dumb so as not to take the advantage — they came in last, laughing and carrying on — Al gave her a big hug, I suspected he crewed with her for a different agenda. I think I was justified in thinking so when she kissed him back in the clubhouse. Susan cheered her sister until Sam kissed her as well. Well at least some people got a romance out of their summer cruise.
We went home with the trophy which was about the size of the ashes cup! Carol and I promised to share it one month each — we broke up when we realised how pathetic that was. Life was good again. Dad was so proud, he asked if I thought I would like to do more sailing — I said not in a Mirror Dinghy!
I was scheduled to see Julie after the weekend and get another blood test, so I didn’t plan in too much. Mum said I should get the doctor to check my surgery site as well.
For some reason, I had not really been aware of how my body was progressing — I had no idea why I had taken that tack (I’m allowed to use these terms now, I’m a qualified sailor!) but it was on the Monday the day before my Julie visit that I stood before the mirror. I stood there naked — fresh out of the shower — I hadn’t tucked the end of the towel in over my breasts properly and it fell to the floor as I passed the mirror, I just absorbed what I looked like. I was a bit shocked.
“Mum! Can you come upstairs a minute?” It was called without alarm, I was only shocked as an intellectual observer might be.
“What’s up petal?” She sounded only a little concerned.
She saw me sat on the bed half turned away from her (not intentional just the bed was at that angle to the door)
I turned my head and smiled, I didn’t want her to freak, I saw her face relax just a weany bit.
I got up and turned my body towards her so that she could get a better view of the whole of me. She looked me up and down as she walked over.
“Well I never, I guess the treatment is working eh?” she didn’t look phased, and I could see she was pleased, “you’ll be ready as anything by the time school comes round.”
I smiled and nodded my head, “my thoughts too, I’m going to have a chat to the doctor and see if he can do anything about John Thomas — I really would like to be more physically correct if it’s at all possible before my 18th birthday!”
“I don’t see any harm in that, after all, you’re classified as a female — you should be able to get the operation when you’re ready. Talk to Julie tomorrow as well.”
It was odd looking in the mirror — I didn’t know what a live woman looked like down there, but I could see that except for the small penis, my pubis was like those pictures I’d seen in magazines and even, if the truth be told, in swimming costumes — it was only the presence of the small tag of skin that told me that everything was not perfect.
My hips had spread enough to give me a flat tummy and the lack of hair above my small triangle gave me a soft expanse of smooth skin.
My waist was distinctly narrow and I had a nice curve over the hip. It appeared that the fat cushion on my hip was established too! My torso tapered up from the bottom of my ribs to a nice pair of firm breasts. Not big, but I’m only 15. I gained confidence as I looked, I wasn’t the best looking girl in the world but I was nice enough and I know I looked better as a girl than I looked as a guy! To be honest, I don’t think I could be mistaken for a guy, even though I could see him in there somewhere.
Mum came back to the bedroom and looked at the latch on the door. “I think it’s time you had a lock on this door as well — I don’t want Pop wandering in and having a heart attack. He still forgets sometimes you know. And I wouldn’t put it past Nigel to inadvertently open the door. You need your privacy at times — it means a lot when you’re your age.”
“I haven’t seen Nigel for two weeks we don’t go to the same places — he’s going to get a shock isn’t he?” I grinned looking in the mirror.
“I think we should have a family meal and make sure he attends”
“I have a camera here, put on your bikini I want to take a historical shot, Julie mentioned it the last visit and you forgot to remind me. “
“Yeah sorry. I have to take a shot of me from Easter to show her too.” I grimaced — I was so taken up with me, that I forget everything!
“Well there’s a one hour shop in the village and this film is nearly finished, perhaps we can get your hair done while they’re developing it and then go see Julie.” Mum ruffled my hair and felt the condition. “You look after it nicely.” She smiled in a motherly way and hugged me to her. I was the same height nearly, I hugged her back not worrying that I was still naked.
The door opened downstairs and mum pushed the bedroom door shut, “put some clothes on petal, well, your bikini until I get the pictures.”
She used up the film with me posing on the bed and standing by the mirror to get front and back views. In a few minutes it was over and I got dressed and we went down to meet dad who had poured us all a drink - me included. I was wearing a shortish flared skirt with a soft short sleeved knit top. The skirt flared wonderfully over my hips and the top showed off my burgeoning breasts. I felt every inch a woman.
Dad watched me walk down the stairs behind mum and whistled softly — “you’re turning into a head turner, you look a lot like your mum at 18 — and she was voted the best looking girl in the Upper 6th. Which is the reason I married her — pure and simple — eye candy. Trophy wife, kiss me” He ordered and she obeyed..
“I know you guys get up to stuff, but it’s not good for your kids to see it.” Mum poked her tongue at me and dad cocked a snook. “Then don’t look,” was the rejoinder.
I looked into the garden instead.
“What’s the wine for sweetie?” mum asked after the smoochies were over.
“Nothing much, just a pay rise at work. Goes with the promotion” Mum looked at him, her eyes flashing, “you got the manager’s job? Oh that’s wonderful” she almost jumped up and down.
“Look darling there’s a problem attached to it though, we may have to move next year since the office is amalgamating with the city — they’ve offered me manager of a city office if we have to move after Christmas.” Dad’s face was worried, he didn’t want mum to have to move, she was happy to be here and she loved her life on the coast. You mean the Liverpool office? Or the Manchester one?”
“This is where it gets complicated, I said A city. I’m not sure yet, there’s talk of me being sent to open a new office in Brisbane…” he hung his head, “I have to take you guys with us and because we’re opening a new factory complete, I get to be head honcho, Australian Division.”
Mum looked a bit angry, “You’ve already accepted haven’t you?” Dad looked at mum and wanted to say nothing — he bit his lip. “Provisionally yes”
“Let me get this right, it looks like we get moved half way round the world so you get to do your job, what guarantees do you get that you won’t be dumped once it’s up and running and we have to come back to UK to find another job for both of us.” Mum’s eyes flashed with suppressed tears. “Oh John, why couldn’t you have discussed this with me, with us? We’re part of this decision too you know.”
There was a sort of turgid silence, while everyone looked into their minds about the future and what it could mean.
Dad looked at me, “how do you feel about it Jenny?” he looked at me as if pleading for support.
“I don’t know, I guess it means I’ll be able to start my life again without anyone knowing me, but what if someone gets to know over there, the men over there are a bit renowned for being very Macho aren’t they?” I played the ball neatly back into Dad’s court.
Mum had sat down nursing her glass of wine. She looked decidedly neutral — and very small, like someone had deflated her. A key entering the front door heralded the return of Nigel and we all looked up at him guiltily as he entered the room.
“Jesus, did someone die?” the question nearly dieing on his lips as he spoke.
“Come in and sit for a minute Nigel, we’re discussing our future and it’s important for you as well.”
“What are you talking about, is someone ill?” Nigel looked from one face to another as if he could read the news from our expressions.
“Your father has just proudly announced that we’re going to move to Australia next Spring. I think he meant to mention it at Christmas lunch, but the news escaped 6 months early.” Mum’s pithy comments earned her an exasperated look from dad.
“Actually its only on the drawing board and I’ve been offered the position and I expressed keen interest, nothing is cut and dried. I told Philip that I would discuss it with my family as it was not something I could make a decision on alone. I haven’t had a chance to explain the circumstances yet, everyone is jumping to conclusions.”
Dad looked over at mum as if to say ‘there, I did the right thing’.
Mum looked contrite, “Sorry Pet, I thought you’d dropped us in it without our knowing anything about it. It was just so sudden. When do you have to let Philip know by?” Mum retracked the conversation to the last point of order and hoped the blow up would blow over.
“Friday would be good — end of next week would be pushing it, there’s not much to discuss really, everything is being paid for and I have a contract that is pretty ironclad for 7 years and a buyout clause if I want to move on or if they want me to move on.”
Dad reached for the briefcase sitting on the table and retrieved a folder from it — it was an inch thick and bound in a snazzy cover. Placing it on the table, he placed his hand on it, “You’re all welcome to look and read, but not allowed to talk about it outside this house, is that clear? There’s a few people who are going to be disappointed by being left out and they’ll not be best pleased to get the news second hand.” An obvious warning which made us all realise this was a big fish dad had caught.
He opened the file and removed the front page — “Um that’s my offer, only Mum and I get to read that,” he handed it to mum and her eyes tracked down the page, going saucer shaped (and nearly saucer sized) once or twice. Looking up at John she spoke softly, “so much money, they must think the world of you.” Dad looked suitably embarrassed.
“Well it’s a good pay rise, that’s why I thought you’d be pleased, instead I got the third degree.” Mum looked suitably embarrassed.
Nigel to this point had been leaning against the door jamb. He didn’t seem very interested and his eyes had settled on me. He didn’t look derisive and he spoke absently about going to university. “Where am I going to be in all this, I need to book my university place and stuff. My A level results come out next week and I want to get an English Degree not some colonial college degree that isn’t worth diddly squat.”
“You can stay here if you want, it’s up to you, but you’ll have to let us know by next week if you intend to stay as we’ll need to set you up at Gran’s place. IF and that’s a BIG IF, they will put up with you. You’re still not what I would call responsible.” Dad’s tough remarks slid over Nigel like he hadn’t heard. As long as he’s going to get fed, he’s probably not going to worry one way or the other.
“You’re looking good Jenny, nice bum,” Nigel levered himself off the door jamb and started to turn away.
“Would you recognise me if you saw me again?” I sounded a bit shrill, but I was slightly annoyed that I hadn’t seen him look me in the eye once. He turned laconically back and looked me in the eye. His face was a picture. I’ve always poo pooed the idea of a jaw dropping, but it almost had. His eyelids had definitely lifted a few millimetres to let in a little more light. “My God, you really look quite nice.” Praise indeed from his majesty.
He walked over towards me and really looked at me — “You are a girl aren’t you? I know I said I accepted you before and I didn’t recognise you in the pool, but it didn’t sink in properly. I am totally flummoxed in what to say. I can’t say you’re a babe, you’re my sister, but that’s it isn’t it? You ARE my sister.” He smiled then a rare smile of brotherly love and appreciation of part of his family. Putting his arm round my shoulder he spoke quietly. “Seeing as you are my sister, I offer you my arm in love and if someone hurts you, they’ll answer to me, is that acceptable?”
I blushed crimson and since he was so close — as close as he’d ever been to me in his entire life, I kissed his cheek and smiled at him as he grimaced, “yes Nigel that is very acceptable.”
I sat and contemplated that remarkable occurrence as Nigel retired to his room to change.
Dad mumbled something about “perhaps he is growing up after all”.
“Kids, supper’s on the table,” I hadn’t noticed — but the smell of BBQed steak had been entering my nose for a minute or two, I grabbed what was left of my wine and walked through to the kitchen.
I woke the next morning a little thick headed as we had opened more wine last night and I’d had at least another glass. I hoped it wouldn’t affect the blood test. The upshot had been that in consideration of the enormous benefit to Dad’s position and the fact we had few ties in UK ( my dad’s mum and dad were no longer with us and Mum’s parents spent most of the time travelling so weren’t home much) unless we could find real nasties to deter us, we were destined to become Boomerang Throwers and Wobble Board players.
There were no real cousins (even though David the sailor boy was convinced otherwise) and with Dad working so hard he hadn’t much of a social life — no we could find little to tie us to dear old Blighty.
This brought up a dilemma for me. If I could get my surgery over with by the New Year, I would be able to go to Australia as a fully fledged female. The impending move had put my transition, such as it was, into high gear.
That morning was a kind of blur of high speed decisions and consultations as the doctor wanted to give me the once over and the counsellor needed to assess me for my surgery letters if I was to get onto a schedule for surgery in the near future.
There were only a few doctors available in Europe that could do a decent job and I had been given the address of one in Holland and one in Belgium, the ones in UK were pretty much booked up and needed 3 years to get up to speed with each patient.
Julie had done her research well — I also needed a psychiatrist to give me a second opinion — which sounded really daft as I had a genetic disease that made me like this — but since I had the choice of living as a man or a woman, I had to see a psych to make sure that the decision I made was the right one as far as they were concerned.
We dropped the film off at the Kodak shop and went to see if the local salon could fit me in for a quick cut wash and blow dry. They could, I did and since it wasn’t my mum’s regular salon they didn’t even ask how she ended up with a daughter. I had taken a picture of Karen Carpenter in with me and they cut it to match as far as they could — the girl who cut it was really sweet.
“You could be her sister, can you sing as well?”
“Er no actually — I can barely rough out ‘happy birthday’ on a good day, but thanks for asking.”
“You should try — you might be a natural and you could sing a duet with her for a laugh”. She giggled a bit and I wondered if all hairdressers were partially suffocated and addled by the chemicals in the shop.
Karaoke hadn’t hit the scene but if it had, I would be penalised for being a professional I guess. But she did make me feel good and the cut was remarkably accurate so she knew what she was doing.
I felt great while she was massaging the conditioner into my head, I could see why so many women liked the pampering. The smell in the salon was awful, like the bottom of my gran’s handbag, when I asked mum if they all smelled like that, she told me that most of them do since they use the same chemicals but some are better ventilated.
One thing that really put me off was the smell of perm solution. I saw one of the stylists slopping solution onto this lady’s hair that was in rollers the smell hit me, “What is that smell?”
Mum who was reading a magazine that was only three weeks old (I suppose the doctor’s surgery get them only when they reached two years old) said with a grin, “weak hair remover, it softens the hair enough to take a curl and they wash it out just before the hair falls out.” She shook her head. “Which is why I will never have curly hair — I hate the idea.” Mum’s hair was akin to a cross between a coconut and a pageboy and about shoulder length. Mine was wavy naturally like Dad’s mum. We shot out the door eventually, gasping. I felt like a Morlock released into the day from the dark caves. Though I guess I looked a little more attractive.
Oddly the effect seemed to be that I had gained more confidence — though my confidence hadn’t really been an issue up to now anyway. I know I was heading for the most testing interview of my new life, but I seemed to ride the situation like a free fall parachutist, I came down quite quickly (no pun intended) as I realised the earth was now shooting up to meet me.
We looked through the photos as we sat waiting in Julie’s anteroom. There was no one picture that showed who I was so few weeks ago.
“The doctor will see you now,” made us both look up from the squares of colour, I turned to mum and smiled a little awkwardly — she looked at me and drew a smile on, though I could see she was as nervous as I. She patted my hand as we rose as if to give comfort — I’m not sure to whom.
Julie’s bright smile of welcome as we entered calmed my fears slightly — I had no reason to fear anything but bridges seemed to be burnt every time I entered this office and each bridge was bigger and more complex than the last.
“How lovely to see you both again, Beth, Jenny. Please take a pew and let’s see what we can sort through today.”
Mum opened her bag and took out the photos she had just put there and passed them across to Julie then sat next to me placing her bag across her knees and placing her hands over the top like some prim old maid. The tension in her body showed just in those few actions; she would have put the bag on the floor and sat with her hands in her lap if she’d been calm.
Julie opened the envelope and took out the photos — leafing through them one by one — spending a few seconds on each. Her smile showed her approval and in some cases the smile became a grin. When she looked up her eyes were twinkling in pleasure.
“These are wonderful, they are almost candid and show a very relaxed young lady with an admirable sense of self. I’m not looking at the poses, but the attitude of the body language and the facial expression. Not only that, your physical progress is remarkable. How do you feel about that?”
“I feel less vulnerable to hate crime, but I feel less capable of warding off anyone who might commit one.” It was a conundrum I was actually quite aware of, being less noticeable as a transitioner was great but the closer I became to being fully female, the weaker I would become and it would be more easy to hurt me.
“Swings and roundabouts I’m afraid Jenny, there is no way of being both male and female and not be left with a foot in both camps.” Julie stated the obvious and made a note in my folder.
Mum piped up, “Julie I have what may be good and may be bad news and may even affect the next few months,” Julie looked up quizzically. “John has been posted overseas… Australia. I think we need to discuss what we can do before we go over there — I’d like Jenny to be in a better position to integrate back into the school routine without anyone knowing about her past…” mum looked up suddenly from her dazed rambling to see Julie smiling at me and watching my expression change as mum went through her mentally prepared speech.
Julie sat back and closed the folder in front of her, “are you having a problem accepting that Jenny is already more than able to integrate into a co-ed school as a female?” Her expression was bland and friendly, but concerned; as it was evident that she was worried about mum’s ability to cope with the stresses that were now coming to bear on the family.
“No it’s not that, I’m worried about her ability to pass naked. And the fact that we may be in Australia as immigrants and I’d really love it if Jenny had her op before she went,” mum was trying to get it all out before she drew a breath — more worried about the ability for Julie to deny her daughter natural justice.
“Beth, please, stop worrying.” Julie would have put her hand out to comfort mum if she’d been close enough — as it was, she just smiled and put her hand out in mum’s direction flat on the desk — it seemed to have the same effect. Mum took a deep breath and placed her handbag on the floor beside her — barricade removed.
“How do you feel about this?” Julie looked at me poker faced — she didn’t want to give me one inkling of how she felt about it herself.
“I feel that the question is not if, but how soon? There’s no doubt that it’s GOT to happen before I go, and the sooner the better, I’m just hoping that I have the mental stamina to keep going long enough to complete the course — We’re really not in that much of a hurry, but I need to have the op sooner than the end of the year, or at least not long after since I will probably be starting school in Australia in their winter term.”
I looked at Julie as I spoke — her face neither egging me on or becoming negative. When I finished, she picked up her pen and twiddled it in her finger briefly as she thought about her response. For some reason my eye was drawn to the pen and not her face — when I looked back to her she was smiling.
“Well it’s not a problem from my point of view, nothing you have said to me gives me the slightest doubt that you are ready to have vaginoplasty. My biggest problem is the surgeon — since there is very little in the way of options — there just aren’t many surgeons doing the op in UK.” She watched my face for a moment and looked at mum. Mine had fallen, fallen as far as I thought it could. I was suddenly despondent
“Beth, you have to understand that while I can give permission, there have to be others in the circle that also have their agendas.” She looked apologetic. Mum looked ecstatic. I just looked more worried.
Mum picked up her bag again and reached for a letter she had placed there earlier.
“Thank you so much Julie, I wasn’t going to mention this to Jenny until you had given your consent, so I feel that now is a good time to show this to both of you.” She passed the letter over to me first. I opened it looking at the Swiss postmark with curiosity — then as I read it dawned on me what had happened — Dad had already written to the surgeon in Zurich. My eyes opened wider and wider as I read. Then the writing blurred as the tears flooded my eyes The first of my sobs stopped me altogether and mum put her arm round me and gently retrieved the letter and hugged me — passing the letter to Julie.
I recovered in a minute or two and Julie had already replaced the letter in the envelope and popped it into the folder. “I’ll write to the surgeon this afternoon and with Jenny’s case notes, pass the letter on to the doctor for his endorsement — I can see no problem with the 20th December as a date for surgery — I shall need to see Jenny once a month till then, to check she’s coping. It also gives us time to iron out any doubts or problems. Excellent — I’m so glad this was possible Beth, it is sometimes so hard to see the young ones thrown up on the rocks of a system that doesn’t seem to care.”
I was still coming to terms with the fact that Julie was ok with my having the op and here I was already with a date for it. I rose dazed and when Julie came round the desk to shake my hand I just stepped forward and gave her a huge hug. “Thanks Julie, you’re fantastic, I don’t have any doubts and I think you know that.”
Julie put her arms round me and returned my hug, “I know you have no doubts about who you are dear, but things do crop up and you may find one or two roadblocks further down the path.”
I was back in the car before I came round, mum had just sat and waited for me to recover my wits before she drove. “I hope I didn’t shock you too much, it was all a bit sudden. When dad had been offered the position in Australia he immediately wrote to Zurich where we had found a surgeon who has done some highly recommended work — and asked him for a date — which fell in rather well, I think, with the timing — you get to go to Zurich as if you’re on a ski holiday and then you can limp a bit back in school and say you fell over in the snow.” She laughed a mite nervously at that — thinking of the operation.
My eyes were glistening once again, but only in joy. I couldn’t really work out the source of the feelings in my head, but I felt so real and so at peace, like a fluorescent light starter that had been buzzing in my head had suddenly been fixed. Total silence. It was deafening.
“Put your seat belt on petal, lets get home,” mum started the car and backed out of the parking bay. “We’ll go see the doctor in a couple of days when he has the letter from Julie.”
That night I spent in a daze, I gave dad the hugest hugs every time he passed me — he had made me so unbelievably joyous. Happy didn’t come near it, it was like I’d won the Lotto. He explained that he’d sat down with a notepad and written down all the things that needed to be done before we moved — and then prioritised them — and number one came out to be family — and at the top of the list was my op. He’d not told his boss about me but he’d said it was important that his family had to come first in such a big move. The boss agreed, so the first thing he’d done was to write to Zurich.
I sat back and enjoyed the silence in my head for several days, even the doctors visit was a bit of a blur.
I got the usual physical — plus a very uncomfortable prostate exam. I was declared sterile at that point — I should hope so — I had been without my bits for some time! He declared me healthy for surgery but would like me to attend about the same intervals as Julie’s appointments. He advised me that I should avoid Gym when I returned to school if I had to use communal showers as my penis was still evident, too evident for the girl’s change room anyway! He signed me a chit to the effect that I have a heart condition and should be excused exercise that might excite me too much. It was a white lie I suppose, and unlikely to do me harm over a single term at school. I was probably not ever going to be much of an athlete so I wasn’t terribly upset and the thought of trying to play field hockey with a load of girls was a bit daunting — I really need to do some learning about group female psyche before I start playing team sports.
He also took some snaps of my present “setup”, both standing and lying down with my legs spread for the surgeon in Zurich to have a look at. He frowned a lot, but was generally quite good about the whole thing — since it was obviously not a sex change so much as a correction.
End of Part 3
To Be Continued...
I told them about moving to Brisbane and we went to Wendy’s house and she dug out a huge atlas with loads of information about the weather and geography — the clothes I had just bought were only going to last one season — the winter weather in Brisbane was equivalent to late spring in UK and it was a dry winter (monsoon) so I would never wear a raincoat as heavy as the one I had just bought for UK.
“Never mind kiddo, I’ll have it,” Carol volunteered with a big smile. Well I’d wear it til I left, that was for sure.
I didn’t tell them yet about my operation date — they seldom mentioned my ex-boy status so I left it in the air — no one else seemed to bring up the matter so no one had leaked any secrets — it made me feel a lot of trust for my two friends.
We occasionally joined up into a bigger group and went and hung out in the ‘Grounds’ but I hung back from relationships with the boys, though I did watch the way they interacted and put the information away for future use.
One day towards the end of the holidays I was hanging out at the pool with Wendy. She was rubbing oil on my back and had undone my bikini top to make sure she covered the area properly and I was holding it onto my front for modesty.
A shout of “look out!” made me look up just in time to see a basketball heading towards my head — I instinctively put my hands up to shield myself and my top fell onto my legs revealing ‘all’ to everyone who was watching the ball hit my head.
I put my hands back onto my breasts realising that I had flashed the world — I went lobster red and closed my eyes — Wendy draped the towel over me — while I recovered my dignity. I started to shudder as tears came to my eyes. I looked over at the guys who had now retrieved their ball — they looked like they’d been caught shoplifting.
One came over, “I’m SO sorry — it was my fault. I threw it too hard and it was way off target.”
I looked up at him, he looked so contrite — “It’s ok — it was just a bit embarrassing, I’m not in the habit of baring all to the world.”
“Can I buy you a Coke to make up for it?” he pleaded, tying to make me look at him. I nodded and smiled shyly.
“Why you flirt,” Wendy whispered in my ear, “he’s gorgeous.”
I hadn’t noticed — I was too shaken to even take in how old he was.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out, he returned with a Coke and a straw. And a big smile. I shaded my eyes and looked up at him — he was quite dishy and had a sort of happy smile on his face…. Suddenly it occurred to me that he’d done this on purpose. I looked across to find his mates who were all fooling about at the edge of the pool near us. They were looking across rather too often for it to be an ‘accident’, I accepted the Coke gracefully.
“My name is Mark by the way,” he said as an opener.
I smiled at him and said “well you’d better be off then Mark, your friends are waiting”
He looked quite downtrodden and left to rejoin his mates. He looked back and smiled and waved at me as he reached the edge of the pool. I pulled a faint smile and turned away.
“What on Earth was all that about?” gasped Wendy, “I thought you were well in there and he was really dishy looking.” Her look of amazement told me more than one thing.
“I realised that he threw the ball on purpose which actually amounts to sexual harassment. Not only that, he was arrogant enough to think I was his for the taking, neither of which endeared me to him in the least. I can see he’s nice looking and for all I know he may be really nice as well, but I think if a guy is going to go to those lengths to break the ice, he’s too much of a schemer.”
Wendy sat there with her mouth opened a little way and her brows raised as if to say, “well you sure picked up the traces ok”.
“I know you’re right Jen, but I didn’t realise you had such principles.”
“I mean to start as I intend to carry on. I didn’t reckon I was going to be this girl at all a few months ago — now that I am and I find I’m ‘acceptable’ as far as dating material goes, I’m not going to waste it by being an easy target”
“Aw Jen, you’re being awful hard on the guy, I don’t expect he really meant you to ‘bare all’ just hit you with the ball.” Wendy seemed to be taking the side of Mark and Jenny was surprised to realise that maybe she’d been too harsh.
She took another slug of the Coke and passed it to Wendy, “Well to be honest, I’m scared of getting into a relationship at this stage and guys still frighten me a lot.” She frowned and then smiled. “I expect my reputation didn’t take much of a knock, he’ll be dreaming about my boobs for the rest of the week.” They both started giggling and soon forgot the incident.
As they were leaving the pool area later the boys that had done the dastardly deed had by chance exited behind the girls and were teasing Mark. “Some smoothy you turned out to be, couldn’t even get off with a bird, not only after a fantastic setup but also after buying her a Coke — what a sucker.”
The girls heard it and looked back at them. Mark was suitably rosy cheeked, but it looked like it may have been the afternoon in the sun as they were all a bit pink — teach them not to use sunscreen. The girls giggled and picked up the pace a bit to out distance them. They got on the bus just as it arrived and went upstairs — Mark and one of his mates got on downstairs — unbeknownst to the girls.
When the bus arrived at the stop nearest Wendy’s house the girls were climbing down the stairs when they realised that the two boys were also waiting to get off. With no other options they descended and waited behind the boys. Jenny watched the boys tense up and eyeball each other.
Jenny restarted the conversation — Wendy started and gaped at Jen. “I didn’t know you lived round here, I’ve never seen you before.”
Mark turned as the bus ground to a halt with a squeal, “I don’t actually, I’m visiting for a couple of days,” the door swooshed open and the boys stepped down and waited for the girls to alight. Mark continued, “I’m staying in Radnor Drive, where do you live?” Wendy replied, “just down here, number 17 Hill St” without any hesitation. Jenny gaped this time, “and Jenny lives round the corner in Pope St.” Wendy added letting Jenny see that she’d done it on purpose.
The girls set off and the boys suddenly matched them stride for stride, “We’ll see you home if that’s ok? Oh by the way I’m Steve.” Mark’s friend chimed in offering his hand, “I’m Mark’s cousin, we’re all staying at our auntie’s. We got out of the way this arvo as it’s crowded with three families together.”
Wendy whispered to Jenny, “that’s only two doors down from Carol’s place — she never mentioned these guys.” Jenny raised her brow without answering. They stopped outside Wendy’s and the girls put the gate between them and the guys and turned to go inside.
“Any chance of getting a phone number?” Steve piped up hopefully.
“Not today, maybe not ever,” Wendy replied with a flick of her hair as they walked up the path. The boys turned away perplexed.
“What did we do wrong?”
“Buggered if I know, but we’ll see them again if they’re round here — we’re here for a week. Nice tits on the brunette — I’ve not seen too many in daylight — but those are something.” He smiled emphasising the ‘something’ Steve grinned back at Mark — “Jeez that was a nice shot with the basketball, I didn’t expect her to drop her bikini!”
Mark guffawed and cracked his mate on the arm, “I’m going to get me a feel of those before I go home”.
The girls closed the door and Jenny leaned her back against it and burst out laughing, “You are something else, you big flirt. Fancy, telling them your address, and then letting them walk us home.”
“They’d have found out anyway. Hey, let’s ring Carol and see if she knows them.”
They rushed over to the phone and within seconds the phone was ringing — “Hello?” “CAROL, guy alert, guy alert — there’s two boys staying at number 17 have you seen them?
“What are you on about?”
“Did you notice a couple of guys two doors down from you at number17?” repeated Wendy slightly exasperated.
“No, I’ve been too busy, but there’s a caravan on the front drive and a lot of noise coming from their back yard. They’re playing rounders by the sound of it”
“Well look out for them, one of them tried to get off with Jenny, she’s here with me — we just got back from the pool.” She related the incident with the basketball.
Carol’s screeching laugh could be heard almost without the phone. “Hang on I’m coming over, I have to hear this first hand”. She put the phone down and headed for the door.
“Carol’s on her way over,” Wendy relayed as she replaced the handset on the hook.
“Great, let’s get a drink” they sauntered through to the kitchen knowing that Carol would enter that way in a couple of minutes. She arrived breathless two minutes later.
They all hugged and cracked some tabs on some lemonade cans and sat at the table.
“I just passed number 17 and the two guys were in the garden, one tall with curly hair and the other heavier with glasses — that them?”
“Yeah Mark’s the taller one, I wonder if there’s another guy there for you” Wendy joked.
Jenny was making a large O with her mouth “you little vixen, you want to go out with them.”
“Of course I do — what better way to end the school hols. Not long enough to get involved and just enough time to get some pashing in”. Wendy tugged a the hem of her top and looked down at her neat breasts, “just enough time to get to second base I reckon.” Carol squealed and Jenny giggled like a drain.
“My God, you hussy. What would your mum say if she heard you?” Jenny stifled a full blown laugh and spluttered lemonade on the counter.
“She’d say, I think you need more work to do around the house to take your mind off boys” came a remote voice from the study.
Wendy’s face went redder than the Ruby Slippers in the Wizard of Oz. She covered it with her hands, “Oh my God! I didn’t realise mum was home”.
The sound of footfalls in the hall made the girls look towards the door awaiting the doom that surely would come.
Denise popped her head round the door “Er hi Mrs Somerset,” Jenny broke the silence. The head was followed by the body as she pushed the door wider. The look on her face was a picture of stifled laughter, like she was about to implode.
“I have to say, that’s the most fun I ever had delivering a line”. Denise grinned and leaned on the table looking into the fish eyes that Wendy had adopted as her own.
“M-u-um, you have to be the cruellest person in the universe, I was so scared then. I thought you were going to kill me!” Wendy’s eyes rolled up and she continued, “Lord preserve me from ‘oldies’ trying to be funny”.
They all burst into assorted chuckles and Denise held out her hands for silence, “That doesn’t mean I’m in favour of boys groping my little girl — not now not ever. But your scheme to make sure that it doesn’t go too far is admirable and a good idea — even if it is a bit hard on the boys.” She grinned. “My only proviso is that you don’t tell your father and you don’t go out on your own with them — keep together, there’s safety in numbers. It’s far too easy to get carried away. I think it’s time for the talk, and I’m going to ring your mums too young ladies and make sure the rules of engagement are set.” She looked in turn at each of the girls knowing that her rules would be in place no matter what rules the other parent gave.
The tension relaxed and “Aw mum, you have to set rules even for boys, it’s ridiculous, it’s not like we’re going to do anything …”
“I know at least four girls from my school who said that, they all ended up leaving early if you know what I mean.” She raised one eyebrow for emphasis. The girls coloured up again, this was not the sort of conversation that they were used to.
“You’re turning into young women and it’s time you understood that the young men are now catching up to you physically, where you were ahead of them for the last couple of years. Some of them will be fully grown by the end of this year and they’ll be far stronger than you are and may not understand the meaning of the word No when they’re full of surging hormones. And believe it or not, your hormones will be raging too and it’s way too easy for you to make a big mistake. Before that happens, I want you all to promise me that if you get into that position where you think it may go too far that you tell us if you can and make sure you go equipped if you catch my drift.” The girls nodded and coloured up again — this is not the type of conversation they were used to for sure!
Mum turned and retired gracefully, leaving the girls silent for a minute or two.
“Sheesh, where did that come from?” Carol was aware that she’d been pushed over the waterfall in the same barrel as the two others and Jenny had for the first time been included in a VERY female conversation and included completely as a fecund and normal woman. It felt a bit strange and she was hyperventilating a bit.
“I don’t feel too well after that, I never considered that the guys were anything more than I was a few months ago — just people… I didn’t expect that they’d be after jumping my bones and stuff. It just didn’t enter my mind.
Jenny looked over at her friends, “I’m getting my operation.”
The girls looked over at Jenny with expectation written on their faces, “When, when?” Carol pleaded.
“20th December if everything goes Ok, I found out the other day, I wasn’t sure how to break the news.” Jenny looked a bit stricken.
Carol and Wendy rushed to Jenny and held her tightly, “Wowowowowow. That is such a shock, how do you feel about it?” Carol asked the obvious.
“That’s precisely what the shrink asked when my mum told her. Dad had it all organised ages ago — but I had to get the shrink’s permission before mum let me know.”
I got simultaneous kisses on my cheek from both girls and they said almost in unison, “welcome to womanhood” then giggled.
“Do you think I should tell your mum Wendy? Since I’m here and stuff — it might be polite to let her know.” I wasn’t sure of the protocols on this one — I mused for a minute. “I’d better leave it for now, I don’t want to mess with anyone’s head”.
“Hey I’d better get going, it’s nearly tea time.” I jumped to my feet after looking at the clock over the sideboard.
“Me too.” Carol agreed.
We had another big hug and I raised my voice to say bye to Wendy’s mum.
A muffled cry was returned, “bye girls”.
We made our way home.
“Mum? What do you reckon about dating?”
“In what context dear?”
“ Well in the context of going out with boys I guess.”
Mum sat across from me, suspending operations in the kitchen for a moment. “It’s only what I expect a girl to do why? Have you found someone that you’d like to go out with?”
“Well I think it’s likely to happen in the foreseeable next two days,” I enlightened her.
“There’s a couple of guys staying over in Radnor Drive for the week — and I know Wendy wants to date one, and the other guy wants to date me — I think.” I stared at a tiny crumb on the table tying to imagine what it would be like to go out with a guy for real. Mum was silent for a moment.
“I think it would be nice for you dear, I’m glad you know who you are. I was worried in case you decided you were still liking girls as it were.”
“I never did really mum, I just liked them because they’re enviable. I don’t need to envy them any more, I am one!” Mum grinned and reinforced my opinion, “You sure are.”
“Do you think I’ll ever be pretty mum?” I asked somewhat whiningly, “I’d like to be pretty.”
“Come here darling,” she said with a snag in her voice, I went over to her and she turned me round — “look in the mirror on the sideboard dear” I could see my upper body — very slim with twin mounds that were a nice size — not big, but definitely there — I looked up to my face and hair — my hair was a little sunstreaked and flyaway after a day on the poolside but was quite Ok I guess. My face was tanned and smooth and my eyes unblemished and open. A completely normal and quite nice looking young lady.
“If there’s a prettier girl in the area, I’ve yet to meet her.” Mum hugged me from behind, her arms completely encircling me — She kissed my neck and whispered, “you will enchant any boy you wish sweetheart — even your dad. Just keep your head and don’t let them take you where you don’t want to go yet.”
She released me - “right go get your shower and I’ll set the table — salad tonight, so dead easy — do you want to cook some steaks on the BBQ?”
“When I get changed, won’t be long.” I dashed for the shower.
Supper was lovely and dad even gave me a glass of red wine — after he’d given me a huge hug hello. Did I say that I loved my folks. Oh, Nigel didn’t show, he was still working at the Restaurant. I’m beginning to miss him.
I awoke to realise that today, Tuesday, was the last Tuesday of freedom. Next Tuesday was the first day of my new life so to speak in my new school, meeting new friends and learning perhaps a different way of doing things. New friends meant that possibly there may be people who weren’t friends too. Maybe even some bullying and bitchiness to contend with.
One thing I did know, Carol and Wendy were in my new class and that made me feel a whole lot better. But I still had a week and I was going to make the best of it. Unless I had to — well I may like it, mightn’t I? —
“Jenny!!! Breakfast, front and centre, five minutes…” I staggered to my feet disentangling the nightie from my bedding and feeling under the bed with my toes for my slippers.
Five minutes later I was at the table — OK I had showered and washed my hair but I was still in my bathrobe and with a towel turbaned onto my locks. I felt a whole lot better.
Simple breakfast — scrambled eggs and toast. Yum. Nigel was there, he’d flooded his plate with what looked like a sea of red gore but was (I hope) only a rather large quantity of tomato ketchup. “Have you got shares in Heinz 57 Varieties Nige?” I smiled at him as I applied a little salt and pepper.
“oomph glumph,” was all I could make out, but he swallowed and repeated himself. “Controlling Interest, one more breakfast and I’ll own them outright.” He grinned back and made a big play for the final dripping mess entering his mouth. I winced as he shovelled it into his mouth. “No one is going to steal it if you only take smaller bites you know.”
“Yeah, but I like it to be hot and I get a huge assault of flavour on my palate with a bigger mouthful”
“If you like it hot, you should warm the ketchup…” I sipped a mouthful of tea, realising the gulf between my brother and myself was widening daily. He wiped his plate clean with a piece of bread and looked up at me.
“You know, I rather like having a sister to chide me into better manners.” He grinned swigged the rest of his coffee and rose leaving me to take my third mouthful of food. Mum joined me.
“Don’t think it has gone unnoticed Jen, I’m not sure if you do it on purpose, but I can’t see Jerry anywhere, I’m missing him a bit, but I really do like the girl I got.”
She cuddled her cup in her two hands and smiled over it at me.
“No, I’m not doing it on purpose, I think that I had to eat like Nigel on purpose, it always seemed to be such a waste to eat it so fast. You spent so long cooking it and it’s gone in two mouthfuls with Nigel.” I mused.
“Oh it’s not just the eating petal, it’s the whole box and dice, you’re sitting there all fresh and soft with the morning dew on your cheeks, your smile is warm, there’s an air of calm about you I have never seen in this house before. Not with the three guys I used to have anyway. Now I have something to remind me how beautiful the day can be.” She sipped, savouring the hot tea. “And I do love this Darjeeling tea.”
I put my knife and fork together on my empty plate, “You know mum, I can barely remember what it was like, before if you know what I mean. It’s like I’ve woken from a nightmare and it’s already forgotten.”
Beth sat for a minute, “how long did you feel like that?” she looked at me and searched for a sign as if a number of years was written on my face. “I mean like you were trapped in a strange place with nowhere to go?”
I picked up my cup, mirroring the attitude of my mother. “How long is a piece of string? I think I always felt that way. I’ve tried to look back and see where it started, but there wasn’t a beginning, it just was.” I sounded a bit sad, but it was only retrospective. “Anyway that’s all over now.” Brightening.
Mum grinned back — “I should say so, you don’t seem to be harbouring any shadows now. Before, you never seemed really to have the really big highs that most kids have — you were subdued like there was a cloud over you. It’s only an impression, but I feel you have a spark now, like there’s a point to it all.”
“I think you hit the nail on the head mum, I see life in my eyes when I look in the mirror, I see a happy face rather than the callow youth of before. So instead of getting maudlin over my past, I’m going to finish my tea and go do my hair and face and go see Carol since there’s a couple of things I have to sort out — names of Mark and Steve.” I grinned at mum as her eyes went from sleepy to round and her mouth pursed with shocked surprise but only the fun sort of surprise, since she grinned and shook her head as if to dismiss the thought.
I rang Wendy as soon as my hair was dry — “Sorry dear,” I got from Denise, “she’s gone round to Carol’s. I guess the magnets have been switched on.” I could hear her grin down the phone.
“Yeah I guess I’d better get over there before my chances are reduced to zero.” I quipped and hung up the phone. Knowing boys as I do, I don’t think they would even have stirred, it’s was still before 9.30am.
I was wrong. As I walked past number 17 towards Carol’s, the boys were washing down the caravan with buckets of soapy water and two of the largest sponges I have ever seen.
“Morning Jenny,” Mark put down his sponge and dried his hands by wiping them down his jeans, leaving a soapy wet area on his thighs, “I trust you spent a wonderful night and are well rested this lovely morning?” His joviality and insincerity were in direct proportion and it came out daft enough sounding to make me laugh out loud.
“Do you sleep in the van or in the house?” I replied. “or is that kennel I can see under the tree over there where you are destined to rest your head?” I tried to replicate his vocal swagger. They both laughed and Mark said, “close, we were going to put a tent up while we were here right next to the kennel, but my uncle managed to borrow this van from a friend, so Steve and I are in the lap of luxury while we’re here.” He smirked, “oh and we get to have a little privacy too.” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
I hadn’t stopped walking and I wiggled my fingers as I passed and said, “oh how nice for you, may I knock on your door later and inspect the said accommodations to make sure it’s appointments are sufficiently attractive to induce me to dally awhile within?”
“Sounds like a good plan to me, why not now if your heart can stand the stress of being so close to one so handsome as I?” He bowed and flourished his arms in supplication.
“Later serf, I must away and visit my companions.” We were almost laughing by this time. “Are there any more at home like you? I have another companion that wishes company, who live but two doors away. I directed my arm to Carol’s house and glanced that way, realising that Carol and Wendy were both looking out of the window. Mark hadn’t noticed the extra interest from number 21.
“Actually yes, Steve’s brother is here too but he’s a year older and may not fall so easily for the attractions of nubile young maidens, wishing perhaps a more worldly encounter.” Mark kept up the patter, Steve was looking decidedly chirpy at the prospect of spending time with Wendy.
“See you later then, you may carry on with your duties.” I dismissed them with a wave.
One minute later I was retelling the whole encounter as we squealed and giggled behind Wendy’s front door. I glanced through the glass next to the door and Mark and Steve were looking expectantly across to us though there was no doubt they could not see us from outside.
I said, “come on Carol, show yourself and then Steve’s brother will see what he’s up for… if you are…” expecting her to baulk completely — she immediately opened the door and walked outside to check the brother out, except he wasn’t there so she had to pretend to be inspecting the flowers so that her appearance could be relayed to said brother…. I’d never seen Carol and Wendy like that before, they were both on the hunt, and seemed to be a lot braver than I could ever be where boys were concerned.
“My God Carol, you hussy, showing yourself off like that,” I whispered shrilly, “you’ll have him thinking you’re easy.”
“Hey, let the fox see the rabbit is what I say, or we’ll never even get to first base, never mind second, I’ll bet they’re going by the weekend. We have much work to do grasshopper.” She turned to me and said “anyway you can talk after that show you just put on by their front gate.” She grinned and gave me a thumbs up.
“I can see him looking out the front window, he looks dishy and even taller than Mark.”
“We should go over and offer ourselves up as sacrifices straight away or all will be lost.” Wendy joined the attack — “We have limited time ladies and the mission must be accomplished.” She stood ramrod straight and whipped off a salute to the framed picture of a man on the hall wall — a soldier from the first world war I guessed from the sepia tone of the photo. “Let’s go get ‘em babes.”
She ushered us both out of the front door and we were totally unable to resist since we all wanted it to happen. So we pretended to be just sauntering and walked across to number 17, reaching their gate just as the three guys came out of the front door. Wendy said under her breath, “Fix…….bayonets, no prisoners.” We giggled and stopped by the gate.
Marks brother came over and opened the gate before we had formed our attack flank and ushered us in, “Walk this way ladies, if you please.” He turned and led the way to the caravan which the other two had reached and opened the door to. We baulked at being led to the slaughter so easily.
“I’m Martin, Steve’s older and wiser brother, the one with the panache and charm, intelligence and wit.” He introduced himself, these two are presently my slaves and will be making the coffee very shortly if that is your desire…. Amongst other things.” he added with a smarmy smile. I tried to hold in the giggle that would give me up as a hopeless virgin. The other two succeeded as well and we just smiled at the obvious repartee.
The spell was broken and Wendy went over and peered inside the caravan which looked quite new. “Hey this is really nice, come and look,” she beckoned us, I noticed Mark rub his hands gleefully in what I hoped was jest…
“Would you like a cuppa or would you prefer some pop?” Mark asked me to open the dialogue.
“A cup of coffee would be really nice, thanks.” I took the plunge and stepped up into the van — it seemed huge inside with a double bed at one end and a single made up at the other there was seating to each side of the single bed which I slid into as more of us entered the confines. It did preserve a semblance of personal space, though I realised that after I had moved round the table that the seating surrounded that I was sat on the bed. “Who sleeps in this one?” I asked innocently, “whichever of you likes,” was the instant reply, almost as if there had been some discussion of likely questions and answers to give. I flushed a bit but managed to pass it off. “Well, don’t you fancy your chances then boys?” Carol piped up.
“Well actually I do.” Martin volunteered, “since I usually get up first in the morning — I’m in training, so I go for a run first thing.” He expanded.
“Training for what?” Carol ventured, trying to gain his attention. It seemed that Martin was more interested in me and that wasn’t the way we had planned it, I wondered if it mattered. He flexed his arm with his fingers interlocked, “I’m on the first fifteen for my school this year — I’m in the upper 6th ,” he supplied proudly.
Carol smiled at him now that she had his attention, and showed him she was interested. Mark had sat down next to me and Steve was putting the kettle on trying to light the stove with a match — there was a pop and an ouch to show that he had succeeded in doing that and burning his fingers. Martin went over and opened the cupboard door and pulled out some biscuits which he promptly put on the table. Mark grabbed them and gave them back to his brother. “try putting them on a plate, we have company.”
Martins face reddened slightly, “Sheesh, Mr Etiquette himself, who’d have thought I would have to take such stick from a young ‘un such as him?” His glance at Mark was possibly a little harsh, and I know I’ve done it to Nigel before so it was bound to crop up later when we were safely out of earshot. I got a thick ear more than once.
“So do you two boys sleep together then?” Wendy was teasing. Mark and Steve looked a bit uncomfortable — “You’re not kissing cousins are you?” she added with a saccharin smile. Mark cracked first. We all gagged and spluttered.
“I’d rather have the single bed, but Martin got that. He should sleep with his brother really — it’s more … proper.” He excused himself.
“It’s not the best arrangement I admit, but there’s only three bedrooms in the house and our folks are in those already so we got the short straw. My niece has to sleep in her mum and dad’s room and he snores loud enough for us to hear it out here,” he grinned. “She looks like death warmed over in the mornings.”
The kettle whistled and soon we were dunking and chomping biscuits and nattering away like we’d known each other for ever. We settled into the format we expected Wendy got Steve and I got Mark — Martin was nicely interested in Carol too. It was an education for me — as they guys were so sweet and kind. Something I’d never experienced as a guy.
I’d only ever had derogatory comments or put downs from guys in groups. Here, they were putting us in the centre and being so nice. Eventually we managed to get back into the sunlight when Steve’s dad came out and reminded the guys that they were all going into the town that afternoon. The ladies were going to shop and the guys were going down to the river to fish for a while. I had a think about that and realised that the only fishing they would probably do is fishing in their pockets for beer change. Since they all looked over 18 (though I knew that mark and Steve were only a few months older than I). and fathers always took their sons into pubs when on holiday.
So we arranged to meet them later at about 4pm and turned to go. As I turned, Mark touched my arm and I turned back to see what he wanted, before I had a chance to stop him, he’d stepped up to me and planted a kiss on my lips. Only a peck really but it was a surprise and to be honest it was a nice one. I smiled at him and suddenly he’d put his hand behind my head and given me another firmer one. My knees nearly buckled, my God — it was like getting hit by a runaway cricket ball. I saw stars, my tummy went in knots and my eyes were fixed and dilated. I could smell his skin, soft and musky, feel the warmth of his face and the firmness of his hand behind my head, his lips were soft and dry, he tasted of biscuits. I could hardly breathe for a second.
Mark smiled at me — “was it that bad?” I smiled and shook my head, “no it was a surprise, that’s all.”
He turned to go with his brother. The girls were staring at me like I’d just done a striptease.
When we got back to Carol’s, Wendy grabbed me looking into my still dilated pupils, “are you ok? You look like you got hit by a train, he’s a bit fast isn’t he? I nodded a bit incoherently.
Wendy offered, “If you’re going to go at it like that, you’re going to be at second base by 4.30 this afternoon.” She grinned and snorted down her nose.
Carol turned for the kitchen, “let’s get some lunch.”
I was still tingling 20 minutes later.
By the time lunch came round my insides were in a fit state to receive it — just.
I had no idea what emotional content was included in something so simple as a kiss — sure kissing a girl last year had been really nice and I’d gotten a kick out of it, but the reality of kissing a guy was overwhelming — I could well understand the compulsion to keep lunging forward as the libido forced you to take each step. My libido was apparently alive and well and living a little south of my ribs…. Carol and Wendy had ceased teasing me but were regarding me with seriously concerned eyes for most of the time up to lunchtime when I seemed to come out of my ‘rapture’.
Wendy said quietly, “welcome back kid,” and smiled at me affectionately. I realised that I had spaced for most of two hours.
“S-sorry about that, I had no idea that it could be like that, that’s the first time I’ve been kissed by a guy I liked. It’s very different.” I felt myself colouring up again, though the tears I thought I was due to release stayed inside my face for a change. I grinned and glanced at my two friends. They were sat regarding me with their chins on their hands and their elbows on the table like two of the monkeys in the ‘see no hear no’ series. Except that they were seeing of course and watching like crazy.
We decided to have a wander down towards the river which was well within reason — if we encountered the boys, we could be allowed to say we did walk for the fun of it. We actually didn’t see them at all, but passed a nice afternoon in the slightly cooler end of summer holidays sort of warmth.
The family didn’t get back while we were there, so we left Carol to keep watch and went home for tea. Wendy left me at my door with one of those looks on her face that spoke of conspiracy and the near future.
“Hey, no doubling back to Radnor Drive you,” I admonished, Wendy snapped her fingers and grinned — “Damn sprung again by body language, you’re getting good kid!”
I waggled a finger and grinned back “see you later missy”.
Carol phoned later and said that they still hadn’t returned so I settled down for the evening. No point in trying to break any records — there’s always time. I realised that I have the rest of my life now.
I didn’t realise at the time that my acceptance of the mating ritual was superficial and that there was more to it than that. I was playing a dangerous game and didn’t even know the rules
“Jenny, phone!” penetrated my soft slumbers — I looked at my watch — 7.30am.
“It’s Carol, do you want to ring back?”
“Yes please, I’m still trying to open my eyes”. That’ll teach me to watch videos til midnight.
“You’ve got 10 mins, she’s going out in 15 minutes.” Came from outside the door.
“It’s not locked, come in mum,” I managed from the safety of my duvet.
The door opened and mum popped her head in, “Carol said she’s going to the shops in quarter of an hour. She said the guys came back at 10.30 last night and it’s obvious they won’t surface any time soon — they were carousing worse than cats on heat, and I quote that directly, so don’t look at me like it’s my language.”
I sat up slowly and grinned — she’s pretty good for a wrinkly…
“Why is she going to the shops at this time in the morning?”
“I’m not privy to the machinations of a 15 year old mind, but she said she’d meet you at Grounds at 9.30 if you’re not up to making it in ten minutes… which I guess you’re not.”
I sank slowly back to the pillow. “Close it quietly mum.” But it was too late, I was awake. After a rehabilitating shower and scrub, I appeared at the breakfast table just as dad got up to go to work, he gave me a peck as he passed and did the same to mum. “See you later ladies.” Nice way to get the warm fuzzies at 8 am.
“ It’s Wednesday, and you start school in 6 days — we haven’t even got your new uniforms yet. We’re going to have to go to town today or tomorrow, so get yourself organised.”
I realised that was what Carol was doing — taking the opportunity to get her new school stuff before the crowds got in there — damn she’s a smart cookie. I snagged a bowl and poured some sunshine into my bowl, followed by the lovely cold milk and a drizzle of sugar. Quickest breakfast I know.
“Could we go straight away after I finish these corn flakes?” I was already filling my mouth — I had stacks of training in this mode of nourishment, 15 years of it.
“Slow down, I need ten minutes to get myself straightened out and we can be there in less than ½ an hour — gives us an hour to get the essentials.
You won’t be needing gym or sports kit, so it’s just the skirt and jacket, a couple of jumpers and a few blouses - oh and the tie.”
I suddenly realised that I would be defined by my uniform in a very short time. One of a crowd of girls getting off the school bus and heading into my new school. I felt a bit giddy — I knew a total of five girls from the group I was in and the school held about 550 students — I would be going into the upper fifth form — one of 120 students in that year. I don’t think I’ve ever seen 500 girls in one group — which I would in assembly on Tuesday.
“Earth to Jenny, are you receiving me?” I resurfaced.
“Sorry, I was just thinking how different it will be for me next week. I’ve got the wobbles inside about it.”
Mum smiled at me and ruffled my slightly damp hair. “I’ll just go and change, don’t go out with your hair damp — it’s go all flat in this weather”.
By 8.30 we were parked in the main street and heading for the school uniform shop — there were already quite a few in the shop as we entered and I turned automatically towards the boy’s section. I came to a halt in about two steps — like there was a physical barrier in front of me. There was, the manager of the boys’ section. “I think you need that section over there miss” he pointed out the girls’ department. Mum stood looking at me and shaking her head gently — “You’ve been coming in here for how many years?” I looked suitably embarrassed and turned towards the racks of uniforms that delineated the boundary of my new attire. The colours were much brighter than the male section and seemed more inviting — I smiled and looked at mum. “Come on then, I haven’t got all day, I’m meeting Carol in an hour.”
“She’s over there,” mum pointed to the changing room where Carol had just emerged in the green skirt and jacket of my new school. She looked weird, I’d never seen her in a senior school uniform and she looked sort of grown up — I realised in a few minutes, so would I. I waved but she was just going back into the change room and didn’t see me. We raked along the rows and I picked out a skirt and jacket in my size — easy when you have to have the one style isn’t it. “I’ll just go and try these, could you get me some size 12 blouses?”
I stepped into the changing room area and realised there were no cubicles — just an open room with about a dozen girls in different states of undress… yowser!
I tried to look nonchalant and hung up the jacket and skirt — Carol spotted me and came over, “You’re bright red, are you ok?” she grinned at me — she knew why I was pink to my stocking tops!
“Sshh — don’t be mean” I gave her a hug and she sat on the seat next to me and watched as I disrobed.
She’d seen me in bikinis all summer so it was nothing new.
“I suddenly realised at breakfast where you’d be, so I thought I’d steal a march on you and get my stuff too since the boys are bound to sleep in if they were out on the beer last night.” I thought about it as I tried on the skirt, “I’m not sure I want a boyfriend who drinks like a fish.” I felt a certain distaste for the type of behaviour that alcohol seems to define.
“Does this skirt look big on me or is it just my arse is so small?”
Carol stood up and pulled at the waistband — the skirt’s too big — they’re cut huge in this place. Get a size ten.” I slipped the jacket on — that was huge too… and the sleeves were so long I couldn’t see my hands.
Mum came in with a blouse, “I think you’d better try one of these, they look a bit big” — then she looked at me, “Oh my, don’t you look a sight. Reminds me of how we used to get stuff when I was at school. You started off the year with something too big and it was too small by the end of the year. I don’t think we’ll do that this time — you’re too old for that, let’s start again in size ten eh?”
Carol was finished with the clothes and just needed shoes, “I’ll see you outside in a few minutes.”
“Please stay Carol, I need support here, I feel a bit naked — I’ve never been around so many underclad females.”
Carol looked around and sat back down, “sorry, I didn’t realise it was all so new, you seem to have been a girl forever, I can’t remember you as Jerry.” She spoke quietly and made sure no one was listening so I felt OK about her dialogue, but it was unnerving talking about it in front of so many ‘spies’.
Except for stockings and shoes I was all done, size ten fitted me perfectly and I even looked a little smart — I felt really good — sort of normal and no different from the rest of the crowd. It was a new feeling for me. Something I’d never ever felt in my life. The shoes were the usual tuff brogue type or a sort of modified court shoe depending on whether you wore tights or socks. I ended up with courts and tights — winter was not a time for knee socks — I remember that from being a 12 year old boy in shorts….
Yuck!
“Has Wendy got her school stuff then? I didn’t hear her mention it.”
“I think the stuff from last year is still ok, she hasn’t grown much in the last year and she’s a neat freak anyway so her uniform is probably in better nick than ours,” Carol grinned — and the skirt is probably a bit shorter and more eye appealing than ours. Most people take them up — but not too far — it does get drafty waiting for the bus and you don’t want to be too vulnerable to the boys — they’re always trying to get a glimpse of knickers — opportunistic brats — especially the 12 year olds.”
I was a bit surprised until I thought back. The guys in my class used to drop stuff on the bus to get a glimpse of someone’s panties if they thought they could get away with it. Then brag that they had seen so and so’s knickers. I shuddered a bit at the memory.
Our mum’s had been chattering away all this time outside the change rooms and we all headed off for a coffee before they departed for the sanctity of their respective homes. Carol and I ventured down the main street for a while and window shopped. I bought some cheap bangles I saw in the gift shop and got matching ones for Carol and Wendy — sort of sisterhood presents. Carol was quite misty about it and gave me a hug, “You’re really sweet Jenny, I wouldn’t have thought of that, and you’ve only been at it for a few months.”
About 3 months is all it has taken to get me to there. I’ve had a total life makeover in three months. We headed back to Carol’s and called Wendy, we hadn’t passed the caravan so we didn’t know if the boys were up and about as we’d come from the other direction. But it was plenty late — we looked out of the window towards the van, but it seemed quiet — when Wendy got here she looked a bit stricken. “There’s no one about at the boys’ place, I wonder what’s going on?” We realised then that there wasn’t even a car outside or on the drive — did that mean they’d gone?
Wendy asked Carol’s mum if she’d seen anything when she got home. “No, I think they must have gone out when we were in town. Didn’t they say anything about being here? That’s a bit mean.”
“We didn’t think they’d be so rude, I’m sure they thought more of us than that.” Wendy turned from the window and looked disappointed and near to tears. I put my arm round her, “they’re only boys, they don’t know any better and besides we can have much more fun without them.”
Wendy looked at me with soft eyes and smiled slightly. “You know you really are a sweet girl Jenny. Always thinking of our feelings and not your own. I think you’re more female than we are.”
“Let’s call it a draw,” I said smiling. These two people were just about the most important in my life and they’d accepted me into their hearts, I felt overwhelmed.
“Hey look, they’re there.” Carol pointed out the window and passing the gate was Mark’s dad’s car closely followed (really close) by Steve’s dad’s blue Ford.
“Hey, I think the blue car is being towed,” sure enough they were going really slowly and you could see the towrope between the slats of the picket fence.
“Wonder what happened — they don’t look damaged — perhaps the engine is duff.” I surmised.
The front car was full of bodies the back one had only the driver. When we opened the door the only sound we heard was one engine — “ Well it’s not the gearbox,” I said confidently, “they would run it if they could so the brakes would work properly.”
The guys spotted us and waved. The hands that waved were several shades of disgusting. They must have been messing under the bonnet. They were oily up to their elbows. Once the cars were parked we decided it would be ok to wander over and see what the problem was. The guys greeted us like old buddies — we shied away from their hugs — yuck oil!
“We couldn’t start it last night so we all piled into dad’s car” Steve offered “and this morning we went back to fix it, but it seems there’s a broken belt or something inside the engine and we haven’t any tools here.”
“Dad’s got a load if you need some, I don’t think he’d mind if you borrowed them as long as they don’t end up like your hands,” I smile at Mark who grinned back. “Offer accepted.” The girls winked at me with a smile.
“You’d better come with me and get them then I’m not carrying icky spanners for you.” I realised the great divide I’d crossed really was crossed at that point, I wasn’t even tempted to touch the tools even for Mark. And I wasn’t going to offer the snippet that the timing belt to the overhead cam had probably slipped either. The tensioners had a habit of coming loose on that model I seemed to remember…….oh my.Mark followed me down the road like a puppy and I showed him the toolbox in the shed. “They’re all in there, but I think you’ll only need the 10 mil and the 12 mil sockets and the open ended 14 mil for the alternator.” I said without thinking.
Mark looked at me with eyes that reminded me of Marty Feldman — bugged out of his head.
“Say that again,” he was looking at me like I was some kind of alien.
“Oh shut up, dad used to have the same problem with his, I had to help him and I have a good memory,” I blustered, slapping him across the arm then inspecting my palm to make sure I hadn’t slapped an oily bit.
“If I thought you knew what you were talking about, I’d ask you to marry me right now,” he gushed. “I’ve never heard of a girl who even knew what a spanner was,” he shook his head as if disbelieving his ears or more likely just accentuating the sarcasm.
“Well you’re welcome to take the lot.” I shrugged to indicate my indifference to his attitude, though I could feel my face burning up. His grin showed me he knew I knew what I said.
“You show me which ones I’ll need, then I won’t have to carry 40 lbs of tools.”
I grabbed a plastic glove off the bench and flipped the lid on the box. Passing Mark the spanners he needed.
“There, satisfied now?” I didn’t know what to do with my face. I looked past him into the garden. Slowly his face came into line with mine. It was huge, meaning it was close too. I went into shock and didn’t move. His lips approached and I felt like a rabbit in the headlights of a car.
His lips touched mine and my heart leapt into high gear. The kiss firmed and I felt his tongue against my lips, I responded not by backing off as I should, but by parting my lips. I could feel my heart slamming in my chest and I felt tingles all over my body, my arms felt so heavy. I couldn’t move. Slowly my free hand came up to cradle his head as his tongue searched my mouth and played tag with mine.
“Ach,hmm,” I suddenly came back to earth with a bump. “You want a hand with the tools son?” Mark’s father stood in the door to the shed. “I wondered if you were trying to borrow them from the next county.”
Mark looked like he’d been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. But being as how they were holding the tools and I wasn’t covered in oily paw marks, there was no reason to believe he’d been on the rampage with them.
“Sorry dad I was just thanking Jenny for showing me which tools we needed.”
“I can see that lad.”
My head was still swimming in adrenalin, hormones and excess blood from the blush that made me look like Hiawatha. Had I actually done that? Kissed Mark like he was my husband?
I stepped out of the shed with Mark and there was mum right behind Mark’s dad. I didn’t know what to do with my face. I peeled off the glove and tugged at my top. Realising that was absolutely the wrong message to send, I let them fall to my sides and just hung my head. Mum lifted my chin and looked into my eyes, I saw in her eyes the softest most caring love I think I’ve ever seen in my life. Mum also knew I had crossed the great divide.
“Don’t be late back. Supper is at 6.30.” She looked sternly at Mark and winked at me and grinned at Mark’s dad.
“Ok Mrs Holland, I’ll make sure she’s back in time.” Mark assured her. Mum looked at Mark again, this time with almost a look of astonishment. I realised that Mark had basically taken responsibility for me — as my boyfriend.
I gulped and looked away. My God this is moving fast… Carol was right — the way this was going I wouldn’t even be a virgin by 4.30 never mind second base. I suddenly felt sick. I needed air. I couldn’t lose my virginity to Mark. Not until about March next year anyway. And I think at that moment I really wanted to. We moved towards the gate and mum went back inside. Mark and his dad led the way with the handful of tools we needed. “I reckon these are exactly what we’ll need,” Mark senior assessed as he inspected the array. “How did you know son?”
“Oh, Jenny here said her dad had the same problem and she helped him, so she knew what tools to find.”
I got the fish eyes from them both this time. “This one’s a keeper son — look after her.” Was all I heard. Though I could sense the grin as he said it.
I told the girls what had happened as we waited for the boys to finish messing. It took them far longer than it took dad and me. But I wasn’t going to tell them that.
“You WHAT? You picked out exactly the right tools — and ended up with a snogging match?”
“He said he wanted to marry me because I was so astute and knowledgeable about boy things…I guess there’s two sides to having a boy background. However my dear friends,” I added carefully, “if I ever do something so stupid again, you have my permission to poke me with a sharp stick.”.
“I reckon your mum is ace for not making a fuss.”
I coloured a little as I remembered her face. “Yeah, I wonder how dad will feel when he hears.”
The sound of a cranking engine then a cough and a roar proved that they could finish the job in only three times what the average apprentice might do. They looked mighty pleased as they closed the bonnet and wiped the oil off their hands.
It wasn’t long before they were testing it out and they all piled in for a trip for a coffee and a sandwich in town. Six in one car wasn’t a problem — even in a compact — as long as you took it steady, no one made a fuss.
The car ran like a dream — or at least I was in a dream, as I was squashed onto Mark’s lap the whole way. I don’t remember much about the coffee or the pastry we ate — though I found out later we’d all eaten at least one piece — and all paid for by the boys. There are stacks of advantages to being a girl. What I did remember was all the stares we got while Mark made sure my lips didn’t dry out.
“What have you done to your face?” mum held me by the chin. “Oh, I see, beard rash.” She hrmpph’ed, rolled her eyes and carried on peeling the spuds.
My eyes widened when she said that, “What, I’m growing a beard?”
“No dear, Mark appears to have rubbed your face raw with his.” She was grinning and trying to stop her shoulders shaking, as I went redder and redder (never mind the beard rash) as I realised that what I’d been doing was so obvious.
“Go put some cold cream on or it’ll be very sore later.” Mum consoled me with her wisdom. “It’ll look less red by the time dad gets home too — which if he’s true to form will be in about 30 minutes, so scoot.”
Thursday dawned clear and cool, and I rose early hoping to get down to Carol’s to aid in the comfort zone fabrication round one caravan nearby. Carol and Wendy had caught up and Carol being under the tutelage of a slightly older beau had achieved second base — and was trying to avoid being subject to further advancement. However it was not to be as when I arrived all powdered and preened at Carol’s, the cars with the boys in were just pulling out of the gate.
The guys looked crestfallen and I felt similarly downtrodden. I walked on to Carol’s and she told me the guys had to go to the final county cricket match of the season as they had booked and paid for tickets and their father had insisted that they be used. They were apparently mixed in their loss of girlfriends for the day as beer and cricket were to be the order of the day and they were all too pleased at THAT prospect.
We decided to do the pool for the last time as we needed to top up our tans for the duration of a long cold winter. When we got to the pool it was actually quite chilly due to the onshore breeze, so we stayed pretty much clothed and in the café area soaking up coffee and hot chocolate. We discussed what we’d be doing is school this year and I started to get excited about going to the high school and more than a little hyper about my future as a green clad school girl (they were looked up to in the area as the elite of the academic females).
“Do you think anyone is going to give me a hard time?” I asked holding my mug of chocolate between my hands for warmth. “ I’m going to be the newbie and in the upper fifth it won’t be easy to integrate without edging out someone else.”
“Well you won’t be in danger of messing up the sports teams as you’ve never really been in that league and you won’t be doing any real stuff anyway due to your *weak heart*.” Carol giggled at that one. “Your doctor needs his head examined, you look like you could run a marathon — weak heart indeed.”
“What do you reckon you’ll be picked on for? I don’t really understand, it’s not as if you’re ugly or fat or spotty — you have nice hair, dress well and you have a nice manner. You’re really quite pretty, but not the most beautiful girl in the school, you have friends already. What’s the problem?”
“I have a willy. I spent most of the last 15 years as a boy and I’m spastic when it comes to coordination since I’m not used to the body mapping thing — I’ve caught my breasts on the car doors so often, I wince before I even get out.” We all guffawed at that one.
“Carol and I were like that last term, so it’s not any different — there’s still plenty of girls going through the same thing at the moment and the boys are the same too — Steve’s always tripping over himself. Or me,” she grinned as she finished.
I felt better having discussed it, but I still felt edgy about it. I’d have to wait and see I suppose, but the wait is what was making me anxious. I suppose there was no real reason to worry, unless someone I knew was likely to recognise me, but I don’t think that was likely as there was little reason to link me to the previous person. I didn’t look like Jerry any more — even though I looked more like Karen Carpenter than ever.
The end of the holidays
Part5
When I got home, dad was home early and had some more news about the move and it looked really set in concrete. We would be moving to South East Queensland early in March.
“So we’ll get our glad rags on and head out for the evening, I feel the need to celebrate and I think you have one or two things you need to celebrate too my little angel,” he put his arm round me and gave me such a hug. I looked up at him and the look in his eye was unfathomable.
“What?” I had no idea what he meant.
My vision was interrupted by a manilla envelope with my name typed on the front.
Mum was holding it and as I reached up she moved it out of my reach. “Shower and change first then you get to read it.”
“Aw come one, what is it?” I looked at it in mum’s hand but I couldn’t read the logo in the corner.
“Change.”
Never in the field of human shampooing has so much been cleaned in so short a time by someone so clumsy. I went over in my mind what it could be. Name change? Hospital booking? — wait and see I guess.
20 mins later I was front and centre just as Nigel came through the door. “Hi all, whazzup?” he gathered we were all heading somewhere but due to his usual lack of communication, he hadn’t been included in the invite.
“If you want to come out for a meal, you have ten minutes to get ready”. Mum offered.
“Thanks anyway, I’m headed out to the disco with a new girlfriend so I’ll let you play on your own tonight.” He grinned and gave me a hug as he passed. I was getting to quite like him even if he was a bit distant.
Dad piped up before he got out of earshot, “Just to let you know Nige, we’ve got a moving date of 12th March, by which time, you’ll be safely ensconced in the arms of your loving gran and pop. I’ll give you the details later.
By this time I’d just about lost it. “Where’s that envelope? I wanna see what’s in it.”
Mum laughed and passed it to me logo first — Somerset House… a light came on in my head. I looked at mum and dad and my eyes flooded, “Bi..irth Cert..tif.ic.ate?” I could hardly speak. I carefully opened the envelope and there inside was a covering letter and my new birth certificate with my new name on it and written in the sex column — ‘girl’
I screamed so loud Nigel yelled upstairs “What in God’s name was that? Stop beating my little sister you fiends” followed by a sort of thunder as he came running downstairs. He arrived at the door in his underwear — well just his underpants actually — a nice shade of aqua — quite hip for a guy. “Everything Ok?”
“Jenny just got her new Birth Certificate. She’s officially a real girl now.”
Nigel relaxed and retired back to changing for his date. I hope my boyfriend doesn’t wear Y fronts… I wanted a nice hip guy like my brother…. MY GOD! What was I saying?
“Can I phone Carol and Wendy?” — I had to tell the news….. how girly is that?
“Yes but be quick” — In the next minute screams could be heard in two streets nearby — and questions were asked by various parents and neighbours about child abuse and phone stalkers. Then we went out.
The meal was splendid and even though I ate quite a lot, I didn’t overdo it, so I went to bed and lay there thinking about the beaches and sun I would be absorbing on them in the near future. I didn’t realise that Queensland winters weren’t that warm, but they were warmer than here…. Life was full of new things — no time for depression or anxiety.
Sure….
Friday — only 4 days til I go to school — and so much to do — like books and homework, except I didn’t have any carryovers to do or assignments or anything like that — all I really had to do was buy some pens and pencils and stuff like that. I decided that I could get all that stuff this morning as I lay thinking about the day ahead and the chance that I might get to be with Mark. My tummy did a flip and my hand strayed to my soft breasts and my hardening nipples. Oh God! What am I doing?
I jerked my hand away and turned onto my front, gasping at the thoughts that had entered my head — I guess I’m a heterosexual girl all right!
I was into the shower with the water on decidedly cool as fast as I could get there. But that almost made it worse so I put it on softer and a bit warmer so it didn’t make my skin pucker. Ten minutes later I was sitting over a cup of coffee with my hair in a turban and my robe over some nice underwear.
“Mu-umm, I’m going to need some information about my emotions, or is that putting it too bluntly? How am I supposed to feel when a guy kisses me? What do I do to stop myself giving myself to him? I feel overwhelmed by the feelings inside me — it’s hard to control — I never realised I would be so vulnerable or so wanton. I feel like someone has hypnotised me and made me into a Seductress and it’s my job to get him into my bed. It feels really weird.”
Mum looked at me with her eyebrows somewhere up near her hairline and the spatula in her hand dripping oil onto the cooktop. “I can see we need ‘the talk’ don’t we petal?” She turned back to the stove as dad stepped into the kitchen and dropped the paper onto the table. “How are my two favourite ladies this morning?” he reached his arm round my shoulder then sat next to me, giving me a warm cheerful smile. “So what did you think of our moving plan then? Ready to give those Aussie surfers some hell?”
According to the map and photos I’d seen, the Gold coast of Queensland was going to be about 20 minutes away by car and we’d be living in a beautiful suburb with leafy roads and landscaped lawns. Nothing like the impression you’d get from the average Australian show like “The Flying Doctor” or “The Thornbirds”. “Neighbours” hadn’t arrived in UK at that point so I had no idea. I had thought we’d be living in Dusty Hicksville with a clapboard pub down the street and Kangaroos you had to dodge to get to school.
It looked like something out of Los Angeles or even the South of France — Bright sunshine and green hills. I looked at dad and smiled, “Oh daddy what shall I do? So many men and so little time.” Giving him the full Gone With the Wind treatment. He playfully rubbed my turban which immediately fell onto my lap, my hair uncoiling like a wet snake. “Gee thanks Pop.”
Dad looked at me and I saw a sparkle in his eye, “You’re getting to be very, very beautiful darling, I hope I can fend off all those guys at least for enough time to enjoy your company for a year or two more.” He nearly brought a tear to my eye.
Mum broke the spell with a pair of plates. “I think it’s about time you did some of the breakfasts miss, I’m getting a bit bored doing this every morning.”
“You wouldn’t want to send daddy off to work with indigestion would you?” I rolled my eyes and tried to downplay the fact that I was still avoiding cooking at breakfast time. Personally I was getting to enjoy having a bowl of Weetabix and some fruit — except that mum kept to the eggs and toast as a better way to start the day. Dad didn’t have any paunch so I guess the balance was ok!
When I rang Wendy, she said she’d be happy to point out the things we needed for school and we decided to meet in town.
“Meet me at B&Q (hardware store) I’ll be there at ten. I’ll bring Carol too, I’m sure she hasn’t got the rest of her stuff yet,” that had me puzzled — why the hardware store?…
“Ok, see you there” I put the phone down and stood there a minute trying to work out what we’d want in the hardware. “Mu-um, why would we go to the hardware store for school stuff?”
“Wait and see,” came the reply — I could actually hear her grinning.
I shrugged and went and got ready — Jeans and sneakers since it was a non-girlie day.
I got off the bus in the centre and walked the short distance to the DIY centre, where B&Q were situated. The girls were checking out the garden furniture when I arrived — checking it out for size that is, they were sat there as if it was their garden they were in. They jumped up all smiles when they saw me. Two minutes early — “You only need to wait for five more minutes and you’ll be a regular girl — a couple of minutes late.” Carol joshed and gave me a hug.
I smiled and said, “that makes you regular guys then, you were both early.”
“Ah — dad dropped us off on the way — we’ve been here ages — we’ve even spied out what we need, bet you can’t guess.” Wendy was all smug, she knew I hadn’t a clue.
“I have no idea, what would you need in here?”
“Wallpaper! And ‘contact’ (a sort of self adhesive plastic coating for shelving) as well” Carol was watching to see if I clued yet. I didn’t.
“TO COVER OUR BOOKS WITH, SILLY,” they both said together and started laughing.
“You’re not serious? You actually pick wallpaper and stuff to cover your books with — how weird is that?” I shook my head in disbelief.
“See? there are some things you don’t know. It’s a lot easier to recognise your own books if you have your own design on the covers. And a nice bright cover makes you feel better — even if it is maths inside.” Carol said happily as she put her arm round my waist and I fell into step as we marched inside. I was having this image of maths books with teddy bears or fairies on the cover as we strolled down the aisle towards the decorating section.
But in the end I realised it was an individual thing and I chose a neat Marble effect for my exercise books and for the loose cover stuff (we weren’t allowed to stick plastic on the text books) I got a really nice jungle green with exotic ferns and rainforest plants. It was cool really since I’d been reading up about where we were moving to and there was loads of rainforest nearby.
After that we got some pencils and the other stuff that is normal for the student of whichever gender you’re trying to portray. — The new pencil case had to be a bit more feminine, but I rather enjoyed trying to find one with butterflies on — since I counted myself as a bit of a butterfly in my metamorphosis and it would be my own private joke. I got a small backpack with a butterfly motif as well — I hope no one realises the significance.
By lunch time we had just about done our dash and we couldn’t think of another thing to buy — which for girls is a great achievement. We sat down and had a milk shake apiece and decided that since the boys were going home tomorrow and may be forced to go out with their parents tonight, this afternoon was the only chance for some experience gathering. So we caught the bus to Carol’s and of course that meant we had to pass the boys’ gate. They were in the garden as we passed cooking up a storm on the BBQ.
Mark suddenly appeared at my side and offered to escort me to my seat. As we proceeded across the garden under protest to start with, Mark explained he’d asked Carol’s mum if they could invite us for lunch. Apparently she’d jumped at the chance of avoiding three girls yattering at the table and had even thrown in a couple of bottles of fizzy drink to boost the liquid levels.
The food was passable — I passed it to Carol and Carol passed it to Wendy and back and forth it went — we did eat some of it, but we decided that the boys must be druids and burnt offerings were the order of the day to assure that proceeding went to plan. Which was apparent when we realised there was no one else in the house. We were invited into the caravan for coffee. An invitation that made my toes curl in anticipation and my heart flutter in anxiety. I went alternately white and crimson. But into the caravan we went. The coffee for some reason seemed to be abandoned as an after dinner drink just as soon as we stepped inside. The kettle remained unplugged, but I was wired.
Mark sat down next to me and I realised that each of the girls had their own seat. I also seemed to be on the single bed edge, which made my heart jump giddily as I realised that I needed to keep at least a semblance of control or I’d end up with a guy who wanted to kick me instead of kiss me.
I turned towards him, I was going to lay the ground rules. I didn’t get to open my mouth, well I did actually, but only after my lips were sealed with his. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the next hundred days that it took me to get my breath back — somewhere in the middle of term I think it must have been. Mark was every inch a gentleman and I had to admit every inch of him was aware of my presence too. I couldn’t help noticing that the bulge in his pants was poles apart from what it normally looked like (I love puns like that).
I decided that I would leave well alone. I have to admit though, it was tempting to grab hold of it, but I’d decided that until I was a finished product that I would leave that sort of thing to the more forward of the species. I surreptitiously watched the others for signs of avant-garde action, but no one seemed to be going for the carrot.
I found out later that we were all waiting for the others to start the ball rolling so to speak.
I felt the soft edge of Mark’s hand as it edged towards my breast, and I gasped as he gently smoothed his palm over my nipple — it became very pronounced in my top and he decided that I liked it so added it to his repertoire — I decided I liked it too so I let him.
Like it? My God it was all I could do to stay this side of fainting. My whole body was in a state of tsunami. The blood rushed from end to end like it was trying to break free. My tingling grew and grew as he kissed me and fondled me — I was hoping it would never stop. Sadly I had to stop him as his hand suddenly decided to go South and I couldn’t afford that. When he got the stop signal, he was good enough to limit himself to above the waist, but I was wary after that and it lost the glow a bit. But it was all healthy fun and I realised that I had passed my final test for the summer — I had integrated into my new role and I felt whole (well nearly).
The return of the rest of the families put an end to the sports day and we tidied ourselves and exited like we had enjoyed our coffee. The fact we were as red as beetroots and all had beard rash, I guess the game was up — the fathers winked at their sons and the mothers regarded us to make sure we were ok. I guess we women look after each other.
The double dating technique was durable and meant that there was always someone there to make sure we weren’t forced past the line in the sand — safety in numbers. We said goodbye to the guys (they WERE going out for dinner with the others that night and were packing up early next day so we were unlikely to see them again) they promised to write and they gave us their addresses, but I had an idea that they were only being sweet so didn’t expect them to follow up on it — I was right in Mark and Steve’s case, but Carol and her Martin got back together over Christmas ( more on that later). It was sad to see them go and the kiss goodbye was, I suppose, what is known as bittersweet. I had a bit of a cry later but it was only me feeling sorry for myself — we hadn’t got involved and there was no heartbreak — well, only the odd crack here and there.
I said goodnight to Carol and Wendy and we arranged to meet next day so we could discuss school on Tuesday — Carol was going to show me the school photo and point out the nastier elements — I was willing to bet that the nasty were not anywhere near as bad as the guys. (I was wrong).
“She does what?” I asked incredulously.
“She grabs you by a breast and squeezes. If you have lunch money, you’re only too willing to give it to her.” Carol repeated, the tone obvious to anyone that it was from memory.
“She looks flat-chested,” I speculated from the photo.
“I think that’s what makes her use that tactic, she does it more if you’re ‘big’” Wendy pronounced looking about — I had about the same as them, not much, but enough to be grabbed and tortured by. I think I might retaliate if Judy got remotely close to my new appendages — they’re sore enough without some senior school bully having a go at them.
“I’ll keep a weather eye out for that, I’m not going to be bullied ANY MORE,” my voice rose to the thought. “I simply cannot tolerate Cro-Magnon politics.”
“Well what about Crouch? er Jemima. She’s gonna use her hockey stick on you for sure if you don’t let her win.” Carol pointed to a lanky spotty girl with braces.
“I don’t play sports so it’s not really relevant.”
“Oh no you don’t do you, lucky so and so.” Wendy ruminated on the other less civilised forms of pond life that inhabit most schools. “Well there’s others, but they’re only dangerous as a group and easily avoided.”
They had only really pointed out 4 girls, none of whom seemed to represent an insurmountable object — though a common theme was among them — low self esteem. I wonder if by being more senior now, they might be more civilised. I was bound to find out as I was a newbie senior and test me out they were sure to. Even if it was just for practice. I felt a cold steel resolve settle on me that I would not let ANYone bully anybody if I possibly could.
“Wow you sure look weird, did someone walk over your grave?” Carol was looking at me like I had just become snake girl.
“Sorry, I was just promising myself that I would interfere with facial shapes if I saw it happening — I hope I don’t have to put it to the test. Hey, let’s have an arm wrestle, I want to see if I’m still stronger than most girls.”
The girls could both work out what I meant so we set up a table and did a best of three for each of them against me. Carol was beefier in the arm than I was, but I easily beat her, Wendy was even weaker.
“So, I am stronger than I look eh? That could be really useful — I wonder if I will continue that way?” I grinned slyly at the girls and they chuckled.
“Heart girl beats bully into submission, I can see the headlines now…” Carol was as wicked as I was.
“I shall have to keep my trusty crutch handy eh? Tiny Tim topples towering twat.”
We started to giggle and had to give up on the discussion as we couldn’t stay serious.
Dad had mowed the lawn and washed the windows by the time I got back, “Managed to avoid the chores again I see.” Dad looked a bit askance at me — “So it’s your turn to weed the border. To be done this afternoon before we go out to dinner. Don’t ruin your nails, I want an elegant daughter to escort, not a farm labourer.” Dad grinned and raided the fridge for a deserved beer.
Being as how it was the end of the season there was a lot of dead heading to do as well and it took me a couple of hours to clear the beds of spoiled plants and I had to hurry to get changed.
“Nope, go put a dress on or at least a skirt, this is the last time before school and I want to see my daughter look her best.” Dad sent me back to my room with just the comment and a pointed finger. I love my jeans, but he was right.
I put on a pretty gypsy skirt in a soft blue and some strappy two inch sandals and a smock top, and re-presented my self. “that’s better, you look delicious”. Mum was wearing a simple scoop top and a pair of pants — I felt conspicuously overdressed — especially when Nigel appeared in a pair of casual pants and a polo shirt.
“Hey that’s not fair, I’m overdone,” I pouted a bit.
“Well it’s you everyone will be looking at, so you need to be the one that stands out, who would look at an 18 year old boy or a middle aged couple" — Who WOULDN’T look at an attractive and shapely, nubile young woman?” Dad explained to me as he snuck his arm round my shoulder and walked me to the car. I sensed his warm love surround me and I smiled up at him and kissed his cheek. “You make it worth while without anyone looking at me daddy, any but you, that is.”
Nigel make sicky noises and pretended to barf into the gutter.. “behave Nigel” was all mum said. He rolled his eyes and shook his fist at the heavens.
“Why didn’t I think of it? I could’ve been treated to a brand new wardrobe, a summer without having to get a job and no chores.” He winked at me. “Probably because in no way would I ever want to kiss a bloke or wear a bikini.” He nearly started to make barfing noises again til mum gave him the glare. We got in the car.
Dinner was noisy and slow, by the time we were served we were hot and sweaty and not in a good humour. Someone spilt his drink on my skirt and I was quite annoyed, the guy didn’t even apologise, he was too drunk to notice, I think. Mum helped me sponge off the worst of it in the ladies’. “Men, they’re all the same. Expect the ladies to be smart then abuse them when they drink too much. I’m so glad John doesn’t drink a lot.” I thought about it and I think it was the first time mum had ever related Dad as John to me. We returned to our seats and suddenly there seemed to be a lot more room and it was quieter.
“The soccer team left, and it’s considerably more peaceful now. Oh by the way, the Maitre D’ quashed your bill. 25% off the total — as a consolation for ruining your skirt. He put it on the guy’s bill — he looked over and nodded at me when he got it, so the Maitre D must have told him why.”
I felt vindicated and I smiled over at the Maitre and he waved back. Dad caught my eye and raised an eyebrow, I shrugged. Well a girl has to acknowledge her knights in shining armour.
When we got outside the football team were leaving on a coach and the guy who paid my bill came over. “I am really sorry, I overdo it sometimes, I hope the skirt isn’t ruined.”
My father took the lead and made a polite reply, “I hope so too. I also think you might have a few thoughts about how badly the media can portray a footballer who has a few too many.” The footballer looked quite abashed and I felt my dad’s care and protection covering me like a warm blanket. The bus started up and the player ran for it with a wave.
SCHOOL
I tried to keep up with Sunday and Monday, but they escaped like sand through my fingers — it was time for school at last.
Tuesdays will always go down in the English history books as the day they start school — the teachers all go back on the Monday and have a confab about all the bad, good, indifferent, new and unusual students. I wondered very slightly which category I came in of the last two.
It seemed I had no need to worry, Wendy and I went together and when the bell rang we traipsed into the house rooms — I was in the same one as Wendy — I know they designed it that way since we were such good friends, I hoped Wendy wouldn’t live to regret volunteering to be my guide and mentor for the first term.
Outside we had been given hugs by classmates as I got introduced and I had been appraised by the more obviously competitive girls as possible rival maybe or dismissed, as the case may be. Since I was pretty average in terms of looks, I was just cannon fodder to most of them. Grist for the mill so to speak.
Our uniforms were good at allowing us to blend, since it covered the minor imperfections of build and development. I just looked like any other girl — which suited me just fine.
Wendy pointed out Jemima and one or two other cowans ( I think that means unbelievers — it’s my term for those who misuse others). Carol joined us briefly but as she was in a different class and house we were unlikely to meet until lunch time.
She had come in with the other girls from the pool (Joanne and Helen) and we all said hello. Joanne gave me another once over but it was only as a comparison — I felt there was no ill favour in it.
Anyway here we are in what the Americans would call ‘home room’ except that it consisted of a few girls from each year to make up the ‘house’ — about 120 girls all up were there.
The house mistress (Miss Watts), better know as ‘Millie’ (I wonder if she had a big sister named mega?), called us all to order with a whistle, stolen I think from the soccer ref. Well it was the first day — we were all boisterous (or is that gurlsterous?).
“Ok, alright, calm down, a little decorum ladies please.” She shushed with her palms and we all sat down and watched her with something less than avid attentiveness.
“Right, I’ll introduce the new girls, starting with the top.
Er, no one in the sixth form, but we have Jenny Holland in the upper fifth, stand up Jenny so we can see you.”
I coloured up and stood up and waved to the mass of bodies around me — suddenly I felt like an imposter — these were all girls…
“Do you want to say a few words Jenny?” Millie asked.
“No thanks Miss, I’m a bit shy, I’ll get to know everyone eventually.” I smiled and sat down hoping I wouldn’t be given further attention. Millie looked over her half moon glasses at me (inscrutable would describe the look — I guess she was in the know) and carried on. “Fourth Form, ok there’s two girls just arriving from Millthorpe, they stood up and one volounteered, “June Craven miss”, the other muttered something but I missed it. So did Millie. “That would be Allison Bride?”
“Yes Miss,” she coloured up worse than me and sat down.
“I understand you’re half sisters?” - I wondered how that could be unless her dad got his wife and his lover pregnant at the same time. Since they were the same age or at least in the same year. A few titters ran round the room as others realised the significance of the ages.
“No miss, I was adopted,” offered the older of the two, June. “I kept my birth mother’s name, she died when I was born.” She looked a little awkward but held her head up. The titters dried up and there were some sad sighs there to replace them.
‘Good for you June, that took courage’. I thought. It also distracted attention from me.
All the new junior year were introduced with little interest shown, but they went the rounds anyway and it meant they were all in the right house by their presence alone.
We were all given the new directives for the year and maps if we were newbies, the book of school rules with the school hymn at the front. One I’d never heard in fact.
I realised that it was all over and we were shuffling out to go to our first class of the new year.
I had not been recognised by anyone nor had I been given a weird look. I started to relax. Wendy linked arms with me and we headed off to the lockers to deposit that which we did not need - well it was an excuse to wander round a bit -
“The toilet block is over there, don’t use that block on the left, that’s where the juniors go and it pongs rotten. I don’t know what they do, but it smells like a baby’s room and a whore’s handbag at the same time.” She also pointed out that the other block was fed from outside with natural ventilation (the end of the block faced onto the games fields) meaning the occasional crafty ciggie was smoked there by those who should know better. They were not very sanitary, but they were heaps better than the ones at the boy’s school that’s for sure. They had been given a lick of paint over the hols and there was no sign of graffiti or knife marks from the frowned upon knife throwing competitions. (Those inside the toilet stayed there in case a knife was on it’s way).
All in all not the mind blast I thought it might be. Just a slightly less abused building with a better smell. (A much better smell).
Each class that first day handed out new books and we had to cover them whilst talking about what we remembered from last term — this was a chance for me to keep quiet and learn the ropes on how to talk and interact with other girls in the class.
An education in itself.
“We were doing calculus last term — anyone remember what the basics were?” The mistress asked.
“Keep your head down and make sure you never got picked to answer a question miss.” Came from a nice looking girl with frameless glasses and an abundance of brown hair. There were a few giggles and ‘miss’ smirked and said, “Oh sure, there’s you Carmen, top of the class — straight A’s since kindergarten, I often wondered how you got there.”
More giggles and then someone volunteered some relevant info and we chatted about it some more. I liked the respect the teacher gave the girls and the respect that was returned — it didn’t happen in Boy’s school — the teacher was seldom respected and he seldom showed any either. I wondered what socialisation skills were lost by the negativity that that bred. That particular answer would certainly have earned a boy several sheets of ‘lines’, or even a taste of the cane (still just legal in that era).
By the end of the day, we’d troughed our lunches, made friends or enemies where we had to or wanted too, picked up a load of reading to make sure we knew the stuff from last year (since I was actually a little ahead, I had no problems with the set tasks and dismissed them from the front of my mind) and settled into our new role as slightly bigger fish in the gene pool. My new found organisational skills as a girl (really — I had no idea how easy it was until I tried) made the logging of homework and assignments easier to track.
Carol, Wendy and I caught one of the many buses back to our suburb and chatted about our day overall — Carol decided that we were more important than her classmates and she told us she’d rather come home with us than go with Helen and Joanne on the other bus. They were a bit out of Carol’s way anyway so it was more reasonable to go with us. We had to pass her gate coming home anyway, even though we didn’t in the morning (circular route)
We were making alliances that would probably last us the rest of our lives if we did but know it. I was comfortable with these two and Helen and Joanne made up the famous five, as it were, for more serious expeditions (like to the next major town or city for shopping or shows — Liverpool in this case.)
For the first time in my life I was part of a set of peers, I was identifiable as one of a group. It happened also to be a slightly elite group being the Girls Grammar School.
(Author’s note, this was before the days of sleepovers in UK and there were only a few malls in some of the more major cities)
We paused at Carol’s gate and hugged, “see you tomorrow, will you be on our bus or will you go on the normal one?” I asked, wondering if she would take the easiest one or meet with us.
“I’ll wait at your stop — it’s easier — the other bus is closer, but it takes a longer route, I’ll only catch that if the heavens open.” Carol wiggled her fingers and closed the gate behind her. We headed home.
I hugged Wendy at the gate, (I got used to that really fast and I felt bonded to the girls because of it) “I’ll give you a ring later if there’s any new news, of course I won’t have a bar of any gossip.” There’s another thing I was getting used to, double-speak.
Mum was in and I got the same hug from her, she held me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes, “so tell me, did everything go OK? No one gave you a hard time?”
I smiled back at her and placed my hands on hers crossing my arms across my chest. “No one thinks I’m anything more than what I appear. I’ve made some new pals and I fit in fine.” I suddenly felt like I had come home — in a different sense to coming home if you understand. I felt like I had found my niche. I snuggled a little closer for a moment wrapping my arms around mum’s waist and clasping them at her back— it’s sometimes really nice to be able to just be loving.
I thought about the day and found that nothing had made me feel bad or sad or anxious. Better by far than boys’ school.
“Thanks mum, I feel much better just being there.”
“Well go and get out of your uniform and we’ll get some tea ready for pop when he gets home — Nigel is still working at the restaurant — he’ll not be home til late. Oh and by the way, you look like you’ve been wearing that uniform for years. That is so funny, I can barely remember what you looked like coming home before.
“It still looks brand new to me, but I know what you mean. The past is lost in a mist that becomes more impenetrable by the day. It makes me happy as well. I don’t really want to remember the bad bits.”
I went up and changed — I stood in my room looking into the full length mirror I felt a rush of blood and my eyes smarted for a moment — a feeling of joy and complex emotions to do with being able to see myself as a normal girl swept over me. I slipped on a T and my jeans — which were fitting me oh so much better than they used to.
School took on an air of normality and I soon got used to the routine — civilised whilst in class and cultured whilst in the company of my peers. Growing up was proving to be a nice thing to do as a girl.
Nigel moving to Gran’s was a lot more traumatic than I expected, and we spent two weekends moving his stuff. It wasn’t really necessary to do it before the move to Australia, but it was a longish way for Nigel to get to Uni from our place and only a bus ride from Gran’s and they had lots of spare space too. Mum had promised to leave her car for him when we left for the Antipodes so he was well chuffed. Not that it was anything more than an A to B sort of car — being a slightly older Morris 1100. But it was a car and not many had their own at uni.
When we’d got all his stuff moved, he treated us to a meal at the restaurant he’d worked at all summer — he got a great discount too.
I got to wear a rather lovely mid thigh dress and Nigel escorted me and Dad escorted mum, I felt pretty good about that and Nigel made me feel quite grown up and almost like his girlfriend — though I’m not sure if that was a compliment. I don’t think that I could ever fancy my brother — I wonder how that works…
Nigel gave me a huge hug and kissed me on the lips (thankfully only a peck, but it was a true acceptance of my reality) and quietly spoke.
“Listen kiddo, I may not have been the best brother in the world, and I put you down a lot as a guy ( he suddenly looked around to check no one had heard — which considering we were stood on the pavement by Gran’s door was rather funny), but you are one hell of a sister and I love you heaps — don’t let anyone hurt you and if some one does, let me know and I’ll make them regret it. Oh and thanks for all the help moving.”
“I can fight my own battles Nige, but thank you,” I was actually quite overcome, he was still holding me in a hug and our faces were only a few inches apart, I kissed him on the mouth, just a sisterly peck and he let me go with a strangely beneficent smile. He regarded me, like he was trying to memorise what I looked like for future reference
Smile.
“Ok, we seem to be better as brother and sister, and that’s really quite astounding, take care little sister, I love you,” he held my right hand in his left and gently squeezed as he let it go. I smiled and turned away before the tears came to my eyes. I was sniffling before I got to the car.
Nige hugged mum and shook dad’s hand and waved as we started up the car and pulled away.
I could see mum’s shoulders shaking from the back seat and put my hand on her shoulder in support, she placed hers on top and sniffed a couple of times. “If you ever have kids, remember this day — when the first one leaves home — it is not easy to let even the male offspring go! I’m certainly not looking forward to you leaving, it seems I only just found you.”
I eventually had to pull my hand back as my back was getting cramped but by then mum was ok.
When we got home, even though Nigel didn’t spend much time there over the last three months, it seemed somehow more empty, and less full of life.
“Mum, can you feel that, like there’s something missing?” I asked as she bustled about making some tea.
She plonked down into the chair nearest her like her legs had been cut off, and burst into tears again, geez am I insensitive or what? I ran over to her and hugged her. “I’m glad you can feel it too, it means a lot to have you here darling,” she put her arm round my waist and hugged me back, “come on let’s get dad a cuppa — he’s probably a bit low too.”
We went through to the lounge with a plate of biscuits and some tea and dad was there with his feet up watching the cricket. Almost asleep too.
I looked at mum and rolled my eyes and shook my head — so did mum — we grinned at each other and sat down noisily — Dad had inadvertently broken the bad mood and we felt much better.
As Wendy, Carol and I got into school on the Monday I told them about Nigel going to uni and they told me that life would be easier from now on. Though I didn’t really understand what they meant. I asked them to explain. Wendy volunteered “there will be less mess, less noise and less smell as the smallest of advantages, there’ll be reasonably sized meals as he hasn’t stolen half for snacks, no one pinching all the biscuits or pop ( soda), no one drinking milk straight from the bottle. There’d be less washing up, less laundry and less tidying in the lounge.
There’ll be no wet smelly kit in the bathroom, no wet seat on the toilet, and no scum in the bath. The bathroom mirror won’t have smears of unidentifiable ick on them.
The doors won’t have hand marks all down the edge.
I started to laugh and before long I was on my knees in hysterics. She was absolutely spot on. I thought of his pongy sneakers in the laundry and the stale smell of sweat from his sports kit.
Whilst it was lovely to have a brother, there were disadvantages too I guess.
I went to the first class with a sense of balance that I hadn’t had til then.
“Hey you, come here.” I looked across the toilet at the only other person there, she was obviously talking to me.
“What?” I looked at her not quite understanding her tone.
“I said come here” she repeated imperiously.
“I should coco,” I answered, dried my hands and walked away from her towards the door. I flicked a look in the mirror at her as I opened the door, she was red faced and had a look of rage and clenched fists. I ignored her.
“You’ll keep missy.” Jemima had noticed me. Strangely I was not in the least concerned.
Jemima had a little clique of not very nice friends. Jemima herself was a lanky girl with a pale complexion, a bit spotty at different times of the month — She was a bit athletic but not overly so, but made one of the forwards for the school hockey team.
Her friends, Melissa, Rachel and Sophi were just a bunch of average to ignorant girls who had sufficient IQ to make the grade — which also made them a bit dangerous.
Sophi the slightly overweight second in command of the group was angry all the time, like she’d been dealt the short straw. Her florid cheeks had all the signs of high blood pressure and stress. I wondered slightly if she was suffering from some form of personality disorder.
I had noticed this crew quite early in the piece as Wendy had pointed ‘Jemima’ out to me in way of a warning that she was a hostile (the boob squeezer mentioned earlier). Which is why I steered clear of her in the toilet. I was not into anger and didn’t want to give anyone a chance of spoiling my time in school.
After the last class was over and Wendy and I reorganised our books at our lockers, Jemima and her cohorts were sauntering past in that special way we all understand as looking for strife. Jemima barged me so I caught my head on the locker door and made it ring. She sniggered and looked me in the eye as I shook my hair back and resumed my stance in front of the locker. I looked her right back in the eye without the slightest fear, which disconcerted her a bit. “Watch where you’re going Jemima,”
I held my head up waiting for the next move, her hand came up to my breast and I caught it before she had a chance to grab me. “Ah ah, boyfriends only I’m afraid.” I jerked her hand so she smacked herself in the breast. Her eyes opened in surprise and she gasped. She stepped back really shocked, “You’re going to regret that, bitch.”
Her friends hadn’t seen the attempted grab or the retaliation and were looking a bit askance, not realising what had happened. Wendy was on the other side of the group so saw even less.
“Listen missy,” I said stepping up and grabbing her by the blouse and swinging her round, crashing her back noisily into the lockers, “where I come from you put up or shut up. If you want to hang one on, MISSY, be prepared for scar tissue and no sports for a month or two, OK?”
Before the red flush had backed off from Jemima’s neck and her friends had had a chance to react, a voice of Authority came over my shoulder. “Miss Holland! my office, NOW! Miss Crouch you may go!” Jemima sniggered as she slunk away. Her friends trailing like hyenas or jackals.
I felt like I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life — I’d used boy tactics in the girls’ school. I thought I’d got it weighed off, obviously I hadn’t.
I looked at Miss Watts as she marched off towards her office, obviously expecting me to follow in her wake. I looked abashed at Wendy, “Wait for me, huh?” she nodded.
I stepped into Miss Watts’ office and the door closed behind me. She was stood quietly behind me. I remained facing her desk as she circled towards her side. She looked less than pleased.
“Sit-t!” she insisted, almost like dog training…..
I moved towards the hard chair and perched on the edge, looking into her face for a sign of what was to come — rage or anger, spite or merciless revenge.
Instead she smiled. My eyes opened a little wider and she smiled a little more.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to do that,” she leaned back grinning.
“I watched her as she planned that attack on you, she was waiting for you , you know.” She confided. “What did you do to offend her?”
“Oh I just ignored her in the toilet earlier” I confided reluctantly, I didn’t really want to fight my conscience as well by ratting on a ‘fellow’ student.
Millie seemed to sense my reluctance to divulge the story, “It doesn’t really matter, she was just trying to assert her authority over a newbie. You’ve busted that one wide open I think, but I have an idea it won’t end there unless you can strip her of her cronies.” Miss Watts was actually plotting — I couldn’t believe it.
“Find a way of converting her friends, and you’ll have stopped in one day something that I’ve been trying to do for five years.
Keep your eyes open on the way home and do some thinking, if you need a hand, or some information or advice, you know where I am.” She paused waiting for the effect of her words. “Off you go now, your friend is waiting. Oh, and try not to make a habit of it.”
I looked at her with open admiration, this was a clever and intelligent woman who had treated me with more respect than anyone in my other school for the last four years.
I didn’t even know if she knew my background. She didn’t look like she was on the point of telling me if she did either.
“Thank you miss, I’ll work on it.” I moved towards the door and she rose and smiled at me again.
“Keep me in the loop, Jenny.” Her voice softened to a friendly confidante’s tone.
“I will, Miss.” I opened the door and left.
Wendy was outside the office pacing up and down like she expected I’d be sent down for ten years hard labour. She was more than surprised that I was out of the office in less than five minutes. She looked at me with eyes like saucers.
“What did you get?” she asked huskily almost tearfully.
“Some advice on how to make sure Jemima isn’t able to get back at me and a big smile,” I grinned at Wendy’s face as her mouth opened like the Mersey tunnel, “You didn’t?” she squealed and hugged me like I was Goddess on a stick.
“Millie reckoned Jem had it coming and was happy to see it happen. She did tell me to keep it low profile though, so mum’s the word, OK?” Wendy nodded. I broke the embrace reluctantly and we turned for home — we had missed the first bus, but that didn’t matter — we’d drop off at Carol’s and tell her the news anyway.
Carol was as incredulous as Wendy had been. I’d taken on Heroine proportions in only a couple of weeks in High School.
“Where do Sophi and Jemima live? I need to see if I can devise some plots to drive a wedge between her and Jemima.”
“Sophi lives in the street behind the car place — um Fletcher’s in George St I think.”
Carol offered. “I’ve seen her there when my dad picks up the car from servicing.”
“Jemima lives down by the park another two blocks over, I think.” Wendy added helpfully.
“Ok, I need to check out the lie of the land, I guess it’ll have to wait for the weekend.”
I thought about the tactics but they needed much more planning and after all, I had plenty of time — I hoped..
“You’re late honey, everything Ok?” The enquiry from mum wafted through as I closed the front door. “Yeah, just had a chat with Miss Watts about a bully at school,”
I attempted to pass it off whilst giving enough information so as to make sure that I’d mentioned it fully.
“Well come on then, tell me all about it,” mum was sat polishing the silver at the table with her apron as if she had nothing better todo. “You already know about it don’t you?”
Mum smirked at me, “sorry pet, I do. I got a call from Millie about 20 mins ago — she thought I should know what the ‘go’ is. I didn’t tell you did I? I was in college with her — we were even in the same digs.”
“I .., wha.., does she know about me?” I asked, somehow I felt violated like a trust had been broken.
Mum nodded, “Yes she knew before school started — it’s one of the reasons you’re in her House. She wanted to make sure you were treated properly.” She looked at me trying to see if I was going to be hurt by the knowledge. I was a bit, though the reasons mollified it somewhat.
“I hope she doesn’t let it slip — God I’d hate the other teachers to know.” I felt choked and a little nauseous that I might have to spend two years being treated like a pariah (if we didn’t end up going to Australia)
“No they don’t know. Millie…” she stopped suddenly “ did you know, we’ve called her that since you were born or before even”. She continued. Millie even did all the name changing for me so that the others wouldn’t see. No one knows except her.”
Mum looked at me for a moment then continued. “Your weak heart is not gong to be much of an excuse after beating up the school bully is it?” Her rueful grin was enough to set me giggling and the tension dissipated quite suddenly as I laughed out loud.
“Well hopefully they won’t put two and two together.” I crossed my fingers and rolled my eyes heavenward in supplication. The headline I had spoken about to Carol and Wendy had it seemed come to pass.
I sensed watchfulness from Jemima and crew whenever I saw them — there were plots hatching, I was convinced, so I kept low profile as much as I could, though I was getting all sorts of slaps on the back for the turning of the tables — and the Chinese Whispers were quite amazing — in one I had actually beaten up Jemima and her cronies all at once — like Superwoman. The fact of my getting off with Miss Watts didn’t ride well with some and I got those back as well. About me blackmailing the staff and stuff — well it went with the gangster image… I just tried to live it all down.
Things quietened down after a day or two …
On the weekend I went down to see where Sophi lived — it was like a terrace that backed onto the car place not terribly salubrious, but clean and tidy and quite respectable, though noisy and smelly from the cars that were being serviced all the time.
It didn’t help — there was nothing I could use here — so I went down to the Park and had a look at that area — well it was as different as chalk and cheese. Jemima’s folks were probably loaded. I wondered why she was so spiteful, she had it all by the looks of the area.
I went home and chatted to mum about it.
“I can’t understand why Jemima would be so awful mum, she seems to be living in the lap of luxury if the area is anything to go by.”
“Well there’s a few things that go with that sort of money — driving ambition can caused neglect and often manipulation goes hand in glove with privilege and power.” Mum added sagely.
“You mean you think Jemima might be oppressed by her parents or bullied the same way she’s bullying the students?” It made sense to me.
“Well, we are the result of our upbringing in many cases. Unless she’s taught different ways of being a person, she’s likely to be like her parents. Good, bad or indifferent”
I reflected on this, found nothing I could relate to and switched track to Sophi.
I explained the difference in standards and the environment.
Mum mused for a minute, “sounds like Sohpi doesn’t get a chance for peace and quiet — perhaps she doesn’t get enough sleep with all those cars revving up all the time. That would sure make me angry.”
I thought about it for a while and decided that I needed more information.
It wasn’t until I was watching the television that night that I got the idea.
The plot was a bit thick but the outcome was someone had committed suicide by gassing themselves in the car. The person was saved but the symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning were evident — loss of energy, florid complexion and hypertension.
Sophi was being poisoned by the car yard.
I went over the next day and the car yard was still open servicing the vehicles — I looked at Sophi’s house and her bedroom I surmised, was the one that was on the back of the house overlooking the yard — the other two were on the front. The back yard had a high wall which probably stopped a lot of the noise enetering the living room — Sophi’s wndow was open.
The smell of exhaust was pretty bad even though there weren’t too many cars being worked on — then a clatter started up and the two old stock cars were brought out of the shed near the back of Sophi’s — the blue smoke from the old engines was obvious and made me cough just looking at it.
I think I had seen enough. I went home and told mum; dad overheard.
“You mean you think Sophi is being gassed by the car exhausts?” Dad looked a bit incredulous and dismissive.
“It’s all I can think of, you ought to see it.” I urged.
“Ok, I will. Come on, into the car. We’ll go and look right now.” Once dad had a bee in his bonnet it stung him til he moved!
“Well I’m blowed,” he said, watching the roiling blue smoke as it drifted on the wind past Sophi’s house. “I think you may be right, well done my girl” the girl bit sounded good!!!
When we got home dad phoned the fire brigade and asked them to test the fumes at the car yard. They said they’d get round to it, so dad upped the ante. He said he suspected there was a young girl being poisoned by it and they should make it soon. They said they were on their way!!
The next day Sophi wasn’t at school and the group was being a bit quieter without the anger that was generated by her.
The next day Sophi was back and she actually came over to me and she looked loads better — her face was a lot less blotchy and red.
She told me what happened.
The inspectors had come over on the Sunday and tested the air in the yard. Then done a house to house testing the houses for fumes. Sophi’s being at the bottom end in the prevailing wind direction had it worst and her bedroom was the worst in the whole place. She’d just come home at that point and the medico had instantly got her admitted to hospital for treatment — which really amounted to oxygen treatment for 36 hours until her blood count went up.
They had said that she owed her health to a young girl who had reported it. ME!
It was in the midweek rag the next day.
About ten am someone came into the class and asked if I could go to miss Watt’s office. I wondered what was up and expected Millie wanted to chat to me about Sophi.
I was indirectly right, it was about the car yard.
As soon as I got to Millie’s office she ushered me back out and told me we were off to see the headmistress. I looked worried.
“No it’s ok, it’s a nice visit, not a nasty one.” She smiled at me and patted me on the shoulder.
When we were led into the office by the secretary there were two men there as well as the headmistress. Behind me another man came in. I almost felt trapped.
“This is the young lady that found the problem and instigated the checks, Jenny Holland.” The head gestured towards me and before I could even decipher the input, there was a flash of camera and a click.
The man next to me apparently was the Mayor and the other was the Chief Medical Officer of the area. I was not a happy camper. The last thing I wanted was a picture of me in the papers. “Please don’t take any pictures,” I yelled as tears came to my eyes. Suddenly Miss Watts grabbed me to her and shielded my face from the camera.
“That’s enough gentlemen, her wish is for no publicity, that’s good enough for me.”
The Headmistress was a bit stunned. “Miss Watts, I hope you can explain what’s going on?”
“Later Headmistress if that’s Ok, let’s just say that Jenny has good reasons.” Millie whispered to the Head. The Head acquiesced
“Well I hope we can use your name?” The newspaper man quipped, I nodded.
So the “thank you” was all staged and conducted so that my face wasn’t photo’ed.
The Mayor was really nice and said he wished everyone cared as much as I obviously did — Miss Watts just winked at me. The medical officer said he was pleased that I had used my intelligence and connected the symptoms and the cause. “Not many people actually learn anything during TV shows.” He added with a note of dismay.
So I ended up with a pat on the back and Sophi as a pal, but the best thing I had done was disrupt the team of Jemima and nullified her vitriol.
Miss Watts was very happy about the whole affair and relayed via mum that she was really happy that I was such a nice girl and was sure I would make my mark on the school.
Wendy, Carol and I laughed about it all weekend. The pictures in the paper all showed the back of my head or at most just a little of my nose.
I have to admit it was nice to be recognised at least in school, but I didn’t want to be recognised by my old classmates and heckled every time I went anywhere.
I asked Millie what she told the headmistress. “Oh, just that camera flashes had caused a fit when you were younger — it was something to do with the reason you couldn’t do sports. She seemed to be able to accept that. So hopefully, no harm done.”
Miss Watts is NEAT!
I had an appointment with Julie the next Tuesday and she laughed when I recounted the tale of the photos and she asked if I felt I was fitting in ok.
“What do you feel is most important to you in the next few months?” She asked peering at me over her pencil held between her two forefingers.
“I guess working on my Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech and the Presentation of the OBE at the Christmas Honours.” I spoke softly peering through my eyelashes at her and trying to hold in the grin.
“Seriously now Jenny, this is important. I need to feel how you’re moving forward and I need to be able to write something on your rap sheet.” She advised, but not without the smile.
“Oh, sorry,” I thought you were doing the “how does it make you feel”, bit,” I felt a little embarrassed to be wasting her time, to be honest.
“I guess two things spring to mind: preparing myself mentally for having my operation and being able to get sufficiently ahead in school to be able to not worry about getting behind during it and my recovery.” I managed all in one breath.
Julie scribbled my answer on her pad.
“And you’re not worrying about the operation?” She further enquired.
“Well actually, I think I have it as a point in my life but I don’t think it is that significant. After all, I already have my passport and Birth Certificate and I’ve been reclassified as a female - what I have really is a slight deformity isn’t it?” I looked at her with my quizzy face and tried to get her to answer me.
“Do you feel that you are female already then?” She added, pencil poised.
“Of course, don’t you?”
“Well yes, but it’s not how I feel that’s important here. It’s how you’re coping with the unusual circumstance. How you sleep at night, how you relate to your friends and how you act with your peers and parents. How your brother feels and how you feel about him.”
“I feel normal, like me and probably a normal girl like any other I guess. I know I am not allowed to do any sports but I will be able to next year and I will be able to do most things a normal girl can do, except have babies after that.” I felt a little under the spotlight at that point. It’s difficult to be grilled about who you are sometimes especially when you feel you’ve had to justify yourself time and time again.
“I’m not especially fond of being interrogated really,” I said pouting a bit, “I feel that I have been treated ok up to now, but I also feel that further justification is not only not necessary, but hurtful, maybe even harmful. I really don’t like having to do this.” I looked into her eyes, seeing a little uncertainty about what I meant.
“I don’t mind coming to see you and chatting for a little while so you can see I’m stable and still looking forward to my op, but I also am coming to the belief that your system is too full of hoops to jump through. Why do you feel it is needed to make me feel guilty by asking how I feel all the time?”
I sensed then that I had crossed a line that perhaps I shouldn’t have, I sensed Julie withdrawing and being a bit clinical in her appraisal. She wrote a few lines.
“I’m going to read out what I just wrote this will be going in my report to the surgeon and the other Psychiatrist you will see before your op.”
“Jenny has transitioned better than any case I have yet seen, her maturity and acceptance of her self is astonishing. She is stable and completely at one with her female role.
Any medical professional that is involved should bear in mind that she is in no way to be approached as a transitioning male to female transsexual. She should be regarded as a female with a defect that has to be rectified.” She looked up at me, “Is that a fair assessment?”
I nodded, afraid to use my voice in case it cracked. I smiled through some glistening in my eye.
“That is in fact the truth of the matter, and I’m prepared to back that to the hilt, I should have known better than to keep following guidelines that obviously don’t apply to you.” She looked almost guilty. She rose and asked mum to come in.
“I’m going to see Jenny again, as I said, every month till Christmas. That’s three visits left. Unless there’s some obvious change, I’m not going to do more than log the fact that she attended and remains a normal female awaiting surgery. We will just have a chat each time”
“I feel that sometimes the medical system oversteps the mark and makes the client feel that justice is not being served. I feel that mark has been overstepped in this case — I’m just stating the case as I see it.
Your little girl is lovely and she’s a nice person all the way to the core. You’re a very lucky mum Beth. See you in a month.”
Mum put her arm round me and we walked out of the surgery into the sunshine. I felt like the sand that became concrete beneath my feet over the last months was now bed rock and granite, part of me and a structure on which to build my life
The Male of The Species
My father for all his wonderful attributes can sometimes be called stupid. It appears that the higher the IQ, the less likely is a person to be able to step outside of narrowly defined paths.
Such it was when Daddy inadvertently let the cat out of the bag. He did it with his usual aplomb — to the one I really didn’t want to know. The headmistress.
I had gotten over the huge rainbow that Julie had flung at me and had achieved ground level without serious injury to my greatly enlarged head.
Then the usual meeting with the parents and teachers at mid term reared its head and I felt that I needed to be there to make sure all was indeed Ok as I was led to believe — Hey, anxiety and neuroses go hand in hand with paranoia — didn’t you know?
It was really a bit early in the term, but because we were doing the ‘O’ level year we got to be the first to go through the mill about the future and how we were coping.
Yes, that night of nights, thrill of thrills — the night where your IQ and parents expectations are weighed in the balance. Parent/Teacher night. I almost convinced Mum and Dad that it wasn’t much use going since I was not going to complete the year, but they insisted saying that the thing they wanted to do was chat to the teachers and see how well I was integrating (no, not the maths teacher type integrating, the social skills type girly thing).
“We’ll be there at 4pm as scheduled on my diary,” Daddy was never late so I didn’t have a second thought - 4 pm it was.
I didn’t worry all day, simply come in, meet the teachers and take me home after being told what a wonderful student I was.
The headmistress had apparently put out a special request to my housemistress (Miss Watts) that she would love to meet my folks.
So 4 pm arrived there they were, waiting in the rec room. I took them round to each teacher in turn and they all said what a nice young lady I was and how polite and how much of an impression I’d made on the younger ones in my first term and so on and so forth.
Miss Watts was last and mum was gossiping like mad with her catching up on the whole thing when the Head came into the room — Millie looked up and saw her and waved and she made a bee line for us.
“Headmistress, I’d like you to meet the parents of our new fifth form student Jenny Holland. Beth and John Holland, this is our headmistress Janette Bates.” Mum stretched out her hand and it was clasped warmly by the Head. “I’m so glad to make your acquaintance Mrs Holland, your girl is such a wonderful addition to our student body, where was she before?”
Wait for it…. “King Edward’s Grammar” said my dear daddy. The look on everyone’s face and the silence that ensued made that small name seem like an express train mixing it with a airliner. My face looked like something Wallace and Grommet would be proud of. Miss Watts went a strange shade of grey — being as how she was the one who altered the books a bit. And Dad’s face crumpled like a tissue thrown into a hot fire. Mum just went a bit green and stopped breathing for an hour or two.
“Oh? Tell me Mr Holland, how long has King Edwards been taking girls?” That last syllable was hurled out in a rather harsh and clattering manner that meant she was not amused.
“ Don’t tell me you don’t know where your wonderful little girl went before she arrived here?” She looked down her nose at my father.
“Oh of course, Nigel went there didn’t he?” Father squirmed like a worm on a hook,
“Daddy!” I smacked him on the arm playfully as if chiding him– “it was St Margaret’s you should remember that, you used to have to take me when it was raining because the bus stop didn’t have a shelter.” (I’d done my research)
Mum rolled her eyes and Millie decided ignoring the fact was the best bet.
“Mr Holland, it has been the case often enough in my experience that fathers do not take sufficient interest in their female offspring. It seems this is the case now, though your dear daughter doesn’t feel offended by your lack of interest. I, however, am appalled and I think you should be upbraided for your singular lack of fatherly care.”
Dad spluttered and kept very quiet–we all did.
“Mrs Holland, you have my sympathy, good day to you both.” The stiff view of her back was the last daddy ever saw of her–he wasn’t game to meet her again.
When she had safely departed, we all started grinning then giggling then full blown laughing until we all shushed each other as other parents were filtering into the room.
Daddy was so apologetic, I got the most wonderful meal at the Italian restaurant and even my own glass of wine.
“God John, you almost blew it, and we’ve been so careful. We avoided telling her because she’s a member of the far right God squad conservatives and believes in binary gender and total heterosexuality.”
Dad looked at me and reached out his hand across the table, “Little Jenny, I promise you that I will endeavour never to open my mouth without thinking ever again. What I did was unforgivable and I am contrite to the point of self loathing. I nearly jeopardised your future by engaging mouth before putting my brain into gear. I am sorry.” His eyes shone with that light that means everything to the person to whom it is directed. I gripped his hand and held it to my chest.
“I love you daddy,” was all I could say.
Disaster averted.
I just hope that there are no more slip ups where the Head is concerned, once is a mistake, twice is a red card and third time, you’re sent off.
School is a magic place if you’re liked and a miserable place if you’re not. For some it is the temple of learning, for others seemingly a waste of precious hours of freedom.
The difference also can be contained in a few ideologies — that of single gender schooling, goal oriented learning and the philosophy of continuance.
In 1980 all these things were changing. The students became pawns in the state dictated changes. Comprehensive education which the Socialists thought up. Corporal punishment abolishment — also a socialist dictate that went along with the new teach the air and whatever settles on the children will drive them like a thirst to knowledge. Pure bunkum which is slowly eroding the greatness of British education.
Continuance was abandoned — change became the watchword and the students became confused.
When a body of people become confused, it turns to chaos and unless someone with a sense of order is in charge, Brownian motion takes over. The students spend more time bouncing off ideas than actually learning anything. We were fortunate in that a lot of our teachers were old school and taught the same stuff no matter what was in the new statute books.
No boy would ever sully the halls of our school except in “6th form privileges” where once a month they had a disco and a film night for the 6th form of the boys grammar school — my old school. The film was usually an educational thing and the disco was educational too but only for the attendees as it was after hours and only for 6th form.
Which I wasn’t of course.
We did occasionally see that some of the 6th formers were experimenting sexually with their peers as we were nauseated by things left behind in quiet places. It wasn’t easy to ignore as the juniors used to giggle and squeal and poke sticks at them. It was usually wise to let someone on the 6th form committee know ASAP so they could take decent steps to clear up.
It did make for some crude jokes though and I was surprised that the girls were equally as crude as the guys were in that respect. I was intrigued enough to be curious about who was ‘getting it on’ in somewhere as regimented as a girls’ high school.
It was pretty easy to tell as the sixth formers were all party to who was drilling who and all you had to do was hang out in a toilet stall and keep your feet off the floor (there was a gap under the doors so you could see feet if it was occupied — occupied meant you didn’t chat about sensitive stuff; little pigs have big ears.)
It appeared that Rachel, one of Jemima’s offsiders, was one of the regular offenders. Which was not surprising really. She was pretty average and had a mouth full of metal like Jaws. I guess kissing her would be like chewing a mouthful of meccano. Not that I really felt like kissing girls much these days — all that seemed to have taken a back seat to the guys - I realised that my dreams of being locked in a girls’ changing room were now more of a nightmare rather than an erotic fantasy.
The converse wasn’t true either — being locked in a male changing room was something of a sickening memory of disgusting smells and poor taste in jokes and underwear. Much the same as being in a guys toilet. I was never so pleased as the first time I went in a ladies’ toilet in a pub and found a piece of soap in the sink and a stack of clean tissues and even a bit of carpet.
The male toilets were more like the wart hog wallow, stainless steel urinals of dubious cleanliness — some strange crystal doughnuts that were hung or just dropped in the bottom — presumably made from camphor and covered up the smell of male urine.
The most sickening part is somewhat a part of any household that contains males in quantity. Semi dried flecks all around any surface at which a guy points himself when relieving the pressure.
In a public toilet, this could be any and all parts of the room, so the floor would be sort of semi dried and stinking. A memory I would rather purge.
Any tissues would be liberally strewn around and unusable. Any bin, full to overflowing.
I hold these truths to be unfalteringly true, all men are pigs in their own space. Sad but true.
Which is course why we find these execrable things scattered around the grounds after 6th form day.
Men smell funny too because the school feels odd and charged with an odd atmosphere the next day. Particularly the Social centre where the meetings take place.
This is something I didn’t notice at home because Daddy and Nigel have always been there.
So the social and educational element of school was in flux and not all the staff were pleased it was so. Partitions went up and it seemed that the top streams were seen as elitist and the lower streams contained the no hopers. Considering this school had the best students in the county, it was a foolish notion but it was something that was allowed to permeate to create a competitive edge to the curriculum.
I knew this existed at the boys school but it was accepted that the cleverer boys would go to the best universities and the others would become the craftsmen and middle managers of the real world.
In a girls school, the energy is different and the realisation that we would all be marrying and having babies at some point — made things less distinctive.
I was a newbie in every way, new to girldom, new to this culture of change and new to the way girls operated in a learning environment — it felt strange but wonderful — I was free to grow mentally and I found my interests changing and my mind budding like a flower.
I wanted to help everyone and I wanted to be liked.
This didn’t always happen. Jemima had become a real enemy and Miss Watts was glad that Sophi wasn’t part of her coven any more. I wondered about Jemima until I realised that she had no home life — her parents were high achievers and her life was called a latch-key existence, she went home let herself into an empty home and waited for the rest of the family to get home — whereupon some form of meal would be prepared and eaten then everyone would disperse to do their thing.
For a teenage girl this could be disaster — for Jemima it was.
Rachel it appeared was not the only one that was making out with the boys and Jemima’s frequent rushes to the toilet and porcelain worshipping in the mornings soon had her pegged as a prospective teen mother.
Her parents took her out of school during the autumn term — and she wasn’t seen again.
Peace returned to the school. Threats were made and the appearance of prophylactics became a very unusual occurrence.
At weekends we (Carol, Wendy and I) would often sally forth into town and after coffee at ‘Grounds’ we’d do some shopping in the local department stores and get ogled at by the lads gathered in town centre and do all the things young girls did. Things I had to learn.
One day as we left ‘Grounds’ three lads were just about to come in, they gave us a leer and an hello and followed us up the street with their eyes until we were out of earshot and they went inside.
I found this to be a hoot and usually when this happened I’d flirt a bit or wiggle my bum like a ‘bad’ girl. This time I nearly died. One of the guys was the guy I used to sit next to in class. Friends of David and Tony. The others I recognised as his brother and his cousin.
I hoped he hadn’t recognised me — for some reason I’d pretty much gotten away with being recognised (even by my brother) as my old self — I guess you see what you expect to see if it’s girl shaped and cute, it’s unlikely to be the guy you sat next to in school.
We’d sallied down the road apiece when I realised the lads had come out of the café and were now about 50 yards behind us and gaining.
“What do we do?” I started to panic.
“Quick, in here,” Carol grabbed my arm and pushed Wendy ahead of her — into the local swimming baths. “The toilets have an exit on the other street,” she declared as she used Wendy to barge open the door to the rest rooms just as the boys entered the baths behind us.
We ran through the toilets and exited immediately into the street on the other side, hoping the boys would wait for a while before giving up.
We headed straight into the Shopping Arcade next to the baths and lost ourselves in the nearest ladies fashion shop.
We kept an eye out for the lads but we didn’t see them again.
As we headed for home on the bus, Wendy reached for my hand and clasped it in hers. “Look Jenny, we don’t mind covering for you and we love having you as a friend, but you need to lower your guard a bit or we’ll never get boyfriends this year!”
I looked Wendy in the eye and could see she was concerned for me but a little mad at me too. “Sorry - really, I am just so scared that my past will catch up with me. I know those guys and they would see through me quite quickly if they spent time with me.”
I realised then that I had to bite the bullet and work out a strategy — I liked guys and I think I would really like a boyfriend, the reality was I was carrying baggage and I needed to dump it quick.
“What can I do, you’ve got to help me — I don’t know how to be with guys as a girl.”
Carol looked at me and I could see the compassion in her eyes but the firm line of her jaw told me that she was also getting weary of protecting me.
“I think we should find you a guy who doesn’t know you and you can date for a while to get you up to speed. We’re not really that far ahead and we have problems too, but we’re not paranoid.” Carol explained, carefully avoiding being too harsh with her tone.
Wendy nodded in agreement, “I think that’s a great idea, I don’t think we’d have too much trouble finding you a beau, then we can get some for ourselves.”
“You mean you’re going to try to find me a guy before you look for one for yourselves?” I asked carefully, thinking I’d misheard. These aren’t friends, they’re heroines, angels. “God, you’re really ace pals to have around.”
I felt really loved. “Do I have right of veto?”
“Of course, you silly moo. We’re not going to throw you to the wolves or some spotty individual. We’re going to find you a nice boy with good manners. If such a thing exists.” She added grinning ruefully.
“Oops, our stop next.” Carol reached for the bell and we got up and collected our stuff ready to alight.
After I got home and changed into something more comfortable for the evening, I sat in the kitchen peeling spuds with mum.
“How can I tell if a boy is nice mum?”
“Whoa there husky, where did that come from? Have you found someone you like already?” Mum’s eyebrows had disappeared into her hairline and the knife and spud hovered as she stared at me.
“Nooo, course not, I just wondered how you could tell if a guy was nice.” I grinned at mums face and she visibly relaxed.
“Thank the Lord, I’m not sure I’m ready to be the mother of a teenage daughter so soon!” She returned to the spud, twisting out the eyes with a practised flip of the knife.
“Well I suppose it is best to get to know someone a bit first like become a friend before you become a girlfriend. Join a club perhaps that has boys in and see if someone with a common interest takes your fancy.” She smiled at me “That’s how I met your dad; we both liked cycling.”
“Cycling? You haven’t got a bike between you.” I looked at her incredulously.
“That was nearly 20 years ago pet and we threw the bikes out when Nigel was 5, you’d have been 2. They were so heavy, and so old fashioned.”
“So are you mum,” I grinned at her and she nearly threw the spud at me.
I thought about what she said as I lay in bed later, a club to join where guys might also be. I’ll have to discuss with the girls. I rolled over and drifted off into slumber.
I awoke with a sore chest, I’d rolled onto my front and the pressure on my new anatomy was quite uncomfortable. Like an ache. I sat up and the pain diminished as the circulation recovered. I like them, but they aren’t what I thought they’d be. I thought I might play with them a lot, but they just are… they’re really not any more than part of my chest… I wonder what boys think of them?
I slipped on a robe and headed off to the toilet. Without Nigel there, there was no hurry to get in front of him or anything. So I dallied and had a nice long shower and washed my hair and shaved my legs and did all those things that were starting to become part of my routine.
Suddenly the door opened and dad walked in still with is eyes half shut — saw me and leapt backwards into the passage pulling the door after him. “Jenny, you MUST lock the door sweetie, I don’t want a heart attack!” I heard him gasp as he recovered outside the door.
“Sorreee, won’t happen again.” I was bright red from head to toe. I know because I could see every inch of me..
Wendy met me at the bus stop as usual and I could see from the precious smirk on her face that she’d got something up her sleeve besides her arms.
“Morning, girlfriend,” she leered, with a grin that showed all her teeth.
“Ok, ok, what’re you scheming?”
“N-o-othing,” she inspected her nails holding her arms at length.
“Oh yes you are, I’ve never seen anything more obvious, spill the beans Wendy.”
“Oh alright spoilsport, I just realised last night that you haven’t met Michael.”
“Michael?”
“Carol’s father’s mechanic’s apprentice.”
“Say that again without moving your lips, I dare you.”
“He works at that garage where what’s-her-face lives — Fletcher’s”
“Who does?”
“This apprentice mechanic called Michael, he’s really sweet and..”
“Hold it one minute, missy. If this is a prospective date, I have no intention of going out with a guy with grease under his fingernails that smells like a sump full of old oil.”
“Well that’s settled then.”
“Right.” I said relieved and annoyed at the same time.
“So you’ll go out with him?”
“I just said no, didn’t I?
“No, you said you wouldn’t go out with a guy with dirty nails and a smell of old oil. Am I right?”
“Exactly.”
So, Michael doesn’t smell of old oil nor does he have dirty nails — he’s a Virgo and as fastidious as a Surgeon.”
“He’s not gay is he?”
“No, he most certainly is not, he’s the owner’s son and working his way up the business.”
At this point the bus arrived and we stopped talking long enough to get on.
There was only one seat and Wendy took it. I stood next to her, strap hanging.
“What makes you think he’ll want to go out with a 5th former even if he’s as nice as you say and I find I fancy him?” I bent over and asked quietly so that the whole bus didn’t get to know the news.
“I asked him last night, and he said yes.”
“WHAT!!??” I said, rather louder than the background noise of jack hammers and pumping machinery that we were passing. Almost loud enough to break windows actually.
“You did what?” I repeated in an anxious whisper as the rest of the occupants of the bus went back to their newspapers and late homework.
“Don’t sound so ungrateful, he’s really cute and available.”
“So why aren’t you going out with him then?”
“Not my type — he’s a bit geeky for me, but you’ll like him, honest. I’ve known him for years, he used to live near Carol until he got his own place in town.”
I could just picture myself getting invited into his lair and being unable to refuse as my friends wandered off into the night with their boyfriends.
“No no no no no and no,” I started to panic as my mind went into overdrive imagining all sorts of goings on and more importantly — comings off.
“His own place?” I hissed at her, “what are you thinking?”
“Well, at the moment I’m thinking about getting off, we’re here.”
The bus hissed to a halt and we all got off and traipsed in the damp air into the muggy school, all of a sudden it felt claustrophobic and limiting. I’d just been set on my heels by my friend virtually sealing my fate without my say so.
“Look Wendy, I know you mean well,” I told her as we sat in assembly waiting for the bell to ring. “But I’m not ready to do this, you’re frightening me.” I felt the tears stinging the back of my eyes, “Please Wendy, please don’t make me.”
Wendy looked at me and realised all at once what she had done.
“Oh my God Jen, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t dream of forcing you to do something, I just thought you were looking for someone to date. I just realised, you’re out of your depth and I wasn’t helping.”
She put her arm round my shoulders as I shuddered a couple of times — I reached into my bag and pulled out a tissue and blew my nose, wiping the tear surreptitiously from my eye at the same time.
“Give me a minute, I’ll be ok. It’s just a shock to suddenly realise that I’m on the other side of the fence now — prey instead of hunter.”
Wendy looked at me and raised he eyebrows, “Oh babe, how wrong can you get.”
“We’re the hunters, not the hunted. We take what we want and throw the rest back.”
I looked at her and realised that I didn’t really know anything about being a girl.
I spent most of the day weighing up what Wendy said about the hierarchy of mankind.
Some of it made sense, some of it appeared at first glance to be absolute idiocy.
How can meek little women control big hunks with masses of muscle? Well when I actually thought about it, I started to giggle which was not the best thing to do in the middle of Maths. A glare from the teacher was enough to stifle my humour.
“It’s just a matter of controlling one muscle isn’t it?” I said to Wendy and Carol as we ate lunch.
Wendy snorted and almost lost the sandwich she was chewing. Carol coloured up and swallowed hard before she stared at me like I was naked.
“Well now you mention it,” Carol started and both of them cracked up like demented goons, cackling like geese.
“Jeez Jen, you sure have away with words.” Wendy drew a huge lungful of air in through her nose to settle her hiccoughs. “Well that’s got to be the most concise guide to mastery of the male of the species.”
“And you’re probably right,” added Carol, sniggering.
The bell rang.
My thoughts grazed on the possibilities and likelihoods of the future, both near and far. I knew I was going to have to come to terms with boys/men, though I really wasn’t that able to grasp the need. Something like being a nun I suppose. Asexual.
Maybe my hormone levels weren’t up to snuff. I must get them checked.
I looked in my diary and realised I wasn’t far from my next appointment with Julie and I could get them checked then.
No further mention of boys on the way home meant that Carol and Wendy had decided to defer my initiation into the rites of passage. Which I have to admit was a relief. I really needed to discuss this with mum.
“Mum?”
“Yes dear?” mum stopped polishing the glass she was servicing and looked up at me.
“I need to talk,”
“Oh dear, not that time already?” She sighed and put the glass on the shelf with its kin.
“Well not how you mean, I don’t think,” I answered, inspecting a mark on the table so as not to have to meet mum’s eyes.
“Come on then, tell me what’s cookin’ in there.” She ruffled my hair and sat down near enough to place her hand on mine.
“Well, Wendy wants me to meet a guy she knows who she’s organised a date with for me,” I spluttered in one breath.
“Whoa there hoss. Do you want to go out with anyone… yet?” she added, as she realised that it was indeed on the cards eventually if not quite soon.
“Who is he, do you know?”
“Apparently he’s the son of the owner of the garage down near Sophi’s, the one that nearly poisoned her.” I added as if in explanation. On reflection it was probably intended to indict him with the chemical assault.
“What’s he like?”
“I’ve no idea, I haven’t met him”
“Well don’t write him off sight unseen, he might be a nice lad and could help you to learn about the opposite sex. In any event, you’ll be off to Australia soon and that will stop any long term plans in either direction. But it will give you some grounding and I think it may be a good idea to find someone like that.” Mum added thoughtfully.
I stared at her like she was the Monster from the Black Lagoon.
“Who’s side are you on mum???”my mind picked out the words ‘opposite sex’ like they were the hub of the sentence. I suppose to me now, they were. Mum had put them in there innocently enough and they sat there looking like ‘gorillas in the living room’ to me.
“It’s the operand, ‘opposite sex’ that is giving me the heebie jeebies mum, not the concept of dating. I’m really not sure I’m ready to really think about boys in that fashion yet.”
“You didn’t have any trouble with Mark when he was here did you?” mum asked, her expression was odd, like there were two questions rolled into one.
“I’m not sure I really understood the rules at the time and I’m having problems even remembering how I felt. It’s almost like I was on automatic at the time. Just going with the flow. I didn’t even consider what I was doing. I must have been an idiot.”
Mum looked at me with what I call long eyes. Trying, I guess, to fathom where I was going with what I was saying.
“Well in that case, I’m rather glad they were only there for a few days,” Mum mused, “you sound like you were on dangerous ground and didn’t realise it.” She added.
“I guess so, I didn’t even think about it - I was so wrapped up in being a girl and doing girl things. I’m almost frightening myself thinking about it.”
Mum rubbed the back of my hand as it lay on the table and got up to resume her glass polishing, “well, I’m glad it worked out at the time, I’d have been very upset if you’d been led astray by your friends. It’s been quite a summer hasn’t it?” She smiled at me and placed the last glass on the shelf.
“Thanks mum, I feel better now, I think I’ll leave out boys for a little while, if that’s ok with you?” I rose to finish the conversation and move onto my homework…Grief I actually do my homework even more conscientiously than I used to.
It was a good distraction and as the evening progressed, I felt calmer and more myself again. I slept soundly.
“Wendy, Carol, I just want to say thank you for being my friends and looking after me this last few months. I appreciate what you’ve done and how you helped me.
I do however want to say that I feel going out with guys for at least a while is not going to be an option for me.”
I rehearsed what I was going to say as I headed for the bus-stop
“Hi Wendy,” she was there as always, waiting for me.
“Morning Jen, how do you feel today?”
“Fine, just a little sort of down, nothing bad, just sort of not with it, if you know what I mean.” I faltered.
“Sounds like you’re more of a girl than we thought,” Wendy looked a bit down too.
“Why, what’s going on?” I looked at her puzzled by her comment.
Well it looks like we’re in synchro — Carol is as well.” Wendy looked listless and pasty.
“Are you ok? Are you ill?” I couldn’t work out what the heck was going on with her.
“Um, I started my period this morning, so did Carol…. And it looks like you did too.”
“I ca..can’t have them, remember,” I said a little put out by the thought but elated at the same time.
“Well it probably translates to a biorhythm low for you, do you feel a bit whacked and sort of bloated and unenthusiastic?” Wendy leaned against the bus stop sign and rested her temple against the cool steel post “mmmm”.
“Actually yes, I do feel like that, like someone has slapped me in the kidneys and I’m a bit hot at the same time.” I faltered as I thought about it.
“Yup, we’re all in this together, it’s going to be a great week. Let’s not talk about it, just get on with it and get to the other side.” Wendy put her arm round my shoulder and hugged me. We looked up as the bus hissed to a halt in front of us. We managed to find the last double seat and plonked down as if we had just run a marathon.
Eventually we got to school — we had hardly uttered a word.
I was totally gobsmacked when Carol met us and commiserated with Wendy and then looked at me and said “you too huh? Welcome to the club.”
We arranged to meet at lunchtime and headed for class.
“Does this happen every month, feeling like this?” I asked as we trudged to the Science lab.
“Yup — pretty much, sometimes less so, sometimes more so. But pretty much average.” She intoned like it was the drudgery of forsaken souls.
“How depressing. No wonder we get pregnant, anything to stop feeling like this..”
My mind jumped a bit at the inclusive quality of the ‘we’, but I felt it was warranted.
When lunchtime arrived and we sat on the low wall surrounding the carpark, I brought up the subject of boys, intending to give my little speech.
“Do not, I mean NOT, talk about boys for the next five days,” Carol advised. “We’re not in any frame of mind to discuss anything that might approach pleasure this week.”
“Well I was going to say,”
“Well don’t,” Wendy glared at me.
“Ok, tell me when I can and I’ll tell you what you just told me, without the pleasure bit.” I offered frowning. How am I supposed to tell them I don’t want to discuss boys, if they don’t want to discuss boys?
Well it can wait I guess… Hmm.. perhaps the reason I don’t like boys at the moment is the same reason they don’t after all. I’ll wait til I feel better and see if I feel better about them. I do wish I could stop thinking in circles.
The Way Things Happen{Highlight to read} Part 8
By Jennifer Christine
Continueing the Jenny Holland Story
The next few days felt like travelling through a tunnel, both more and less sensational. If one sense was flooded another was diminished. Not enough energy to go round.
I wasn’t really sure how someone like me could get PMS or any other menses related syndrome, but the fact of the matter was that I had fallen into the rhythm my friends had established long ago, like a duck to water.
When we started to pull out of it a few days later it felt like the sun coming out after a storm. The road steaming and everything bright and focussed.
The weekend had passed and I hadn’t even stirred from the house the whole time. Mum hadn’t worked out what was wrong until about 11.30 on Saturday when all I wanted for lunch was a cup of Cocoa. “Hello, what on Earth is wrong with you? Get out of bed on the wrong side?”
“Apparently I’m suffering from a link with Carol and Wendy’s biological rhythm” I offered unenthusiastically.
The look on mum’s face was a picture as it went from a questioning frown to one of immense mirth, until she cracked and guffawed. I looked at her stricken with self pity.
“You’re not nice to me,” My bottom lip went out like a baseball catcher’s mitt.
Mum stifled the grin and came over and hugged me better. “Well I never thought I’d see the day….” She kissed the top of my head. “There, there, pet.”
I retired hurt back to my room, mollified but otherwise unchanged.
“Well thank God that is over for another month,” Wendy slumped next to me as we cornered the last two seats on the bus.
“I suppose we need to resurrect ourselves from this moribund state.” Wendy was on a roll.
“You sound like Pit the Elder or Churchill or something.” I grinned at her pomposity and nudged her, “give over. We need to resurrect ourselves from School if you really want to devise something useful.”
“Well there is the visit to the Planetarium on Wednesday — nice train up to the ‘Pool, day out in the City.”
“Oh yes, I forgot about that, I’m really looking forward to it, I used to love looking up at the sky when I was delivering papers.” I looked at Wendy with a jaundiced eye.” In my previous life, you know. I reckon I saw a UFO one morning.” Suddenly I came awake with blood flowing to my senses, I’d not thought about that for ages.
“What sort of UFO?” Wendy looked at me like I was being daft.
“Well — one that turned a right angle without slowing down, really high up — a little red point of light is all it was but it was undeniably not following anything Newton had devised in the way of Scientific rules.” I added my interest suddenly rekindled. “I’m going to ask the guys at the planetarium when I get there.”
“You’re weird.” Wendy noticed for the first time.
“No, just curious.” I ventured.
Since our recovery, school seemed much nicer but boys hadn’t altered their appeal one bit for me but had for Carol and Wendy.
“It’s no good , I’m going to have to say it,” we were sat at lunch and I was feeling the need to tell my friends how I felt. “Truth time, I’m afraid.”
My four friends looked at me each with their own expression of quizzical and foreboding. “Wha?” I looked from one to the next. “What have I said now?”
“It’s sounds like you’re going to declare yourself a lesbian or something.” Joanne scowled at me.
“No, no — nothing like that. It’s just that I’ve made a decision to avoid the male of the species for a while, so if you want to re-sort yourselves into a different hunting pack situation, I’m ok with it.” I tried to make it sound light, but it came across as trite and lacking in grace.
“I’m sure you’ll change your mind soon, but I for one understand where you’re coming from and won’t press you to accompany us on our sallies into enemy territory.” Wendy picked up the direction and helped me with the consolidation of my intentions.
“I know you’re having growing pains at the moment and we’ve put a lot of pressure on you up to now. You’ve done really well and we’re proud of you. We also appreciate,” she added with a grin, “that you are no longer going to be competition so we can dismiss you out of hand.” She flicked her hair and showed me her snout in the air pose..
“That’s a neat way of putting it, thanks Wendy, you’re absolutely right. I think it is growing pains and I’ll be back in it with you soon as — but in the meantime I’m stepping back from the firing line. It’s too hard to come to grips with at the moment.” I grinned sheepishly at them and they each in turn hugged me as we got up and filed back in for the afternoon’s delights of Maths and Chemistry–
Seldom had I felt so wonderful—expectations of me were considerably lowered and I could concentrate on evaluating the dimensions of a molecule by measuring an oil slick on the surface of a beaker full of water… peer pressure really is a stress factor.
Having reaped the delights of Hydrophilic/Hydrophobic substances and made a little cutout of an oil slick I decided that Physics could be really boring if your mind isn’t focussed. I decided to put foolish things aside for the moment and concentrate on my school work. Taking a deep breath, I opened my text book and started reading the next chapter.
“Miss Holland?”
I looked up a little astonished when the teacher—Miss Price-gained my attention.
“What exactly are you reading?”
I held up the text book so she could see.
“Oh - I’ve seldom seen anyone so engrossed in that book before. I have to admit I thought your mind was in other places, I apologise for being suspicious.” There was that respect thing again. Apologising for being doubtful of my motives. In boys’ school the teacher would have snuck up behind me to try to catch me out.
After the class Miss Price stopped me and apologised again.
“Are you really interested in Physics?”
“Yes Miss.”
“Well we have an exhibition coming up soon for the open day, would you like to submit a demonstration of something?”
“What kind of thing?” I was intrigued but had no idea what she was thinking about.
“Well it’s up to you really, have a think about it and get back to me—I can pair you up with someone if you want to assist someone else. Rather than have your own exhibition.”
I gave her a huge smile and said, “I’d really like that Miss, I’ll have a think about it tonight and get back to you tomorrow if that’s okay?
“Certainly, well run along now, Chemistry awaits; young enquiring minds–”
I smiled at her and did just that — I was nearly late.
Wendy looked at me with one eyebrow raised, “what was all that about?”
“Miss Price wants me to do an exhibition for open day — that’s what you get for reading the text book in class… you get to be teacher’s pet.” I rolled my eyes and gave her a grin hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.
“Ooh that’s great, what are you going to do?”
“I’ve no idea, but I reckon I’m going to need a hand — fancy giving me one?”
She smiled and shrugged, “depends what you want to do, I don’t want to spend every evening for the next month making up circuit boards or something.”
“Nah, it’ll mean we can stay in during lunch hour instead of having to get cold outside.”
“Oh, now you’re talking,” she gave me a thumbs up and we got down to measuring the amount of oxygen in a bell jar… no one said Chemistry had to be interesting as well — yawn.
On the way out of class Mr Richards the Chemistry master handed out copies of New Scientist, “this issue is free, the next one costs a shilling. Or you can get a year’s subscription for 10 shillings.” That was the first time in my life I’d been subjected to hard sell.
The point was I suppose that if you didn’t buy a copy, you were suspect as to your dedication to the subject. It felt a little like protection money!
“D’you reckon he’ll mark us down if we share a copy?”
“No, I don’t think so, he always has a few free copies anyway, he is just so gung-ho about Chemistry and Physics. I don’t think he even realises that he’s inferring anything.”
When I got home I was thumbing through the magazine and spotted an article on photoelectric cells. A seed germinated in my head and I smiled as I realised that I’d found my exhibition.
Wednesday was one of those days that you wish could have been last week sometime so you can forget it.
I looked out of my window at the blustery rain that slashed at the windows and stotted off the road. The trees weren’t going brown yet but the leaves were being whipped off and throw into the gutter to block the drains. The windows were almost rattling out of their frames.
“Can you give me a lift to school Daddy?” I asked plaintively. We’ve got a coach trip into Liverpool and the last thing I want is to be damp all day while I’m at the planetarium.” Dad smiled at me over his paper and nodded ok
“Put some dry socks into your satchel Jenny and take a small towel from the airing cupboard in case you get drenched.” Mum fussed about like a mother hen doing her thing.
“I was going to wear tights actually mum,” I wanted to seem a bit more grown up and they were allowed on excursions.
“Not very practical on a day like today pet, stick with the socks — there’s only going to be your classmates to see.” She admonished. I soon found out how wrong she could be.
“Right girls those two coaches are for us,” The whole of the year was gathered in the shelter milling about trying to avoid getting alternatively drenched and chilled by the swirling wind.
It was a major logistics exercise for the teachers to count heads as we rushed over to the coaches and climbed aboard. Trying to avoid the blast of rain as we traversed the gap meant we all arrived at the coach in a mob — anyway we were soon on board Wendy and Carol had managed to find a double seat together with one in front of them for me and Joanne. Helen was absent, she had a cold so we didn’t need to save an odd seat for her.
We quickly got warm so we shed our coats and chatted as the bus pulled out and headed for the city. Mr Richards stood and gained our attention.
“Right, ladies, sit down and keep quiet while I let you know the routine for today.
“When we get to the planetarium, we’ll check you off and you may go for a wander into the astronomy museum for a short while until 11am when you will all check with Miss Price and collect your place tickets — first in best dressed — the best seats are in the centre and they are very comfy and recline fully. Anyone caught napping will be on detention this weekend — it gives a bad impression of the school, so don’t do it.”
We grinned but said nothing.
“Please do not fraternise with the boys from the fifth form of King Edwards — they may be very nice, but it’s a school outing, not a social one. There’s going to be a lot of people about and we don’t want to lose even one of you”
Wendy looked at me as I slowly went white, a look of horror when I realised that my previous whole class–no, the whole YEAR–was going to be mixing with us all day. I started to tremble as I realised my goose was well and truly cooked. Joanne put her arm round me as I sank into the corner.
“It’s okay, no one will recognise you.” Carol placed her hand on my leg and gave it a squeeze, “you don’t look anything like you did last year.” She added quietly.
“Quiet please, I haven’t finished. Lunch will be provided in the cafeteria. There’s plenty of room and plenty of time so there’s no rush. Though you will need to be finished by 1pm and report back to Miss Price for the afternoon lecture on the ‘Race for the Moon’ which will be very interesting for those with a scientific bent.
In fact,” he smiled at his own joke, “it WILL be rocket science”
Everyone groaned except me — I was starting to hyperventilate a bit.
“Alright Jenny, snap out of it, you’re panicking and you don’t need to-no matter what happens, we’ll be there.” Wendy had grabbed my shoulders and was looking into my eyes with that concerned and slightly hard look that brooks no denial.
“Everything alright here?” Miss Price looked over the seat at me. I sort of gave her a pasty faced smile and said, “Travelsick a bit miss,” I ventured.
“Alright, sing out if we need to stop — there’s nothing worse than the smell of sick in a bus to start everyone off.” She added peremptorily, unable to give much in the way of succour. She gave me a vague sympathetic smile and moved down the bus.
“What can I do?” I was frowning so hard that my eyebrows were mating. “I’m bound to end up being chatted up and I’m really scared — I know everyone that’s going to be there - I’ve known them all for years. And what’s more they’ve all known me for years too.”
“Just stick by us, we’ll keep you out of their way.” Carol smiled at me and put her hand on my cheek, “OK?”
“I placed my hand on hers and said, Thanks, you’re really good friends.”
The bus ground into the forecourt of the Planetarium alongside several others.
The boys’ buses were already there and as we alighted to the blustery pavement, whistles and cheers set up from the boys who were queued up at the Museum door.
I looked over and there were at least 30 faces I recognised immediately. As I looked I realised that if I was to stay sane, I had to get over the trauma of seeing the people I had known as Jerry. I resolved suddenly that as far as I was concerned, I was just Jenny and any resemblance to the previous incarnation was just coincidence and I would pass it off as such.
I pulled my shoulders back and smiled. Wendy looked at me. “Are you okay? — you look like someone who just dropped a fiver and found a tenner.”
“Yes, Wendy, I am — really, really okay — I just found my feet I think. I’ve decided to stop worrying about the past and move on.”
“Well thank the Lord for that, I’m all in favour of a quiet life and less hiding as if I was an escaped convict.” She smiled at me and looped her arm into mine and began to walk — giving me no option but to comply and move with her.
We walked arm in arm into the museum section and began to wander along the aisle.
There were some pictures of Herchels telescope in Ireland and even a replica of the Telescopes used by Galileo with some explanations of how they differed from the modern ones — it was pretty plain to see as they looked more like small didgeridoos than telescopes. The pictures taken through the lens were abominable. Distorted and vignetted. — progress is a wonderful thing
As we turned at the end of the aisle, I looked up and coming down the next aisle were a couple of lads from my old school.
I could feel my face redden as they nudged each other and ogled the pair of us.
I stopped and pretended to look into a glass case with mirrors from the bottom of telescopes in it. They weren’t reflective as they were blanks — so I was able to avoid eye contact.
“So much for moving forward,” Wendy giggled at my obvious recalcitrance.
“You really don’t want to go out with either of them, I know them as inveterate wankers. I don’t think I could hold their hand, knowing what they’ve done with them.” I explained quietly as they passed behind us.
“Good morning, ladies,” one of them offered. I studiously ignored the greeting.
“Hi,” Wendy returned, but it was a closed caption and did more to put them off than ignoring them.
“I’m not sure I want to know about their habits thanks,” Wendy shuddered.
“I wish I didn’t either.”
Eventually we were ushered into the planetarium and found ourselves well down the front on the recliners — Wendy ending up next to one of the boys we hadn’t met, and me on the other side. He offered a smile and a “Hi” which Wendy returned.
I leaned forward a bit to see if I knew him and looked straight into his face as he did the same. “Hi to you too,” he said.
I flushed slightly almost in panic as I looked into his eyes, I did know him quite well — we’d spent more than five years in the same classrooms.
“Oh hello, are you from the grammar school?” I asked inanely — knowing full well that he was — he was wearing the uniform for pity’s sake!
“Yes, I’m Paul,” he offered his hand across Wendy’s prostrate body.
“Oh.. yes… Jenny.” I smiled and shook his warm dry hand — and my whole body flipped into three different dimensions. Whoaaaa! Not a reaction I expected.
I saw Wendy suddenly grin out of the corner of my eye. Paul had relaxed back into the reclined seat and was no longer facing me — thankfully.
I was almost hyperventilating. What on Earth was that reaction about?
“What are you grinning about?” I whispered a bit vexed with her.
“Well, I think you just moved forward.” She giggled and put her hand over her mouth to cover her amusement.
“You’ll keep,” I grumped at her as the lights dimmed.
The Way Things Happen
{Highlight to read} Part 9
Jennifer Christine
The continueing stroy of Jenny Holland
The show was really interesting and entrancing as stars and comets wheeled overhead — I certainly wasn’t going to fall asleep — it was too noisy for a start..
All too soon it was over and we were traipsing out to the café for lunch. The boys filtered out of the other side of the auditorium and Paul with them — though I notice he did look back and give me a smile — which — blow me down, I returned.
Wendy nudged me, “Well I thought I was going to be nursemaid today and it looks like I’m going to end up as a chaperone. You ok? You looked like you’d been zapped by a 240v wire when you shook P-a-a-u-u-l ‘s hand,” she leered at me like I’d had sex in front of her.
“You know, I’m almost certain he didn’t recognise you,” she added sarcastically but with a friendly grin.
“Yes, thank God,” I agreed. “I don’t really understand what happened, but I got the most amazing feeling from his hand, like it was electrified.”
“Now you know what it feels like to fall for someone, shame you didn’t get to chat to him, you might have ended up dating him.
“No way Jose. I don’t think I’m going to move forward that fast for a while anyway.”
We straggled into the lunch queue and picked up our trays. The lunch was paid for by the school so it was a bit regimented — we all got a choice of Burger and chips or Fish and chips. I had the burger — it was better than school dinners anyway. The fish looked limp and the batter was pale and soggy and greasy looking — not really inviting.
As we sat down we looked about and realised that the boys had all gravitated to one side of the cafeteria and all the girls to the other. As I looked across I spotted Paul again he was scanning our side of the café — I turned my head away just as his eyes reached our table. I waited a few seconds and glanced back….eeek — he’s still looking at our table.
“Oh my God, Paul is staring at me,” I whispered to Wendy as I shook her shoulder. She turned from Carol and said, “What are you whispering about?”
“Paul — he’s looking at me,” I gasped as my throat constricted from all the blood racing to my head.
“Of course he is dummy, you shook his hand and smiled at him. That my dear is the first step to getting to know someone.”
“Wendy, I’ve known him for 6 years. I sat next to him for two of them.” I squeaked urgently, trying to convey the reality that if he connected my old life and my new one, I’d be pretty much dead in the water as far as future was concerned — thank God I was going to Australia in a few months.
“What’s he like then?” Wendy asked smiling at my discomfort. “You need to hold onto the concept of what you were saying when you got off the bus this morning. You know, the one about ‘moving forward’. It’s not going to happen if you go into a catatonic stupor every time you see an old mate.” She was being gentle, but it wasn’t washing.
“Wendy, I don’t think you realise how frightening this is for me.” My lip started to quiver and Wendy’s eyes went a bit rounder.
“Come on Jen, stop worrying — he isn’t likely to come over and try to pick you up, though he looks quite nice and it wouldn’t really be a bad thing you know.” Wendy consoled me and chided me at the same time.
“Eat your ‘burger’ and try to smile, he has no idea who you were and isn’t interested in him anyway. It’s you he seems to like and oh- oh, it looks like he’s coming over.”
Wendy flushed slightly as my panic spread to her.
I picked up my burger and took a mouthful, trying to act nonchalant. I proceeded to choke on the overlarge mouthful and the dry roll — my eyes started to water and I was hump coughing, trying not to spit out the mouthful of half chewed sludge.
Before I could recover my equilibrium and my decorum which I’d mislaid somewhere between the meat pattie and the onions, he was standing next to my chair. He gently patted me on the back as I spluttered and heaved. Eventually subsiding into a heap.
“That’s the first time I’ve had that effect on someone,” he smiled graciously and looked around the table for some sort of reaction. Wendy and Carol both guffawed so he felt he’d scored a plus and could move up the next ladder rather than slide down the snake back to his seat.
“Are you ok now Jenny?” he asked leaning over to look into my eyes.
I looked back at him and smiled as I swallowed the lump of feral lunch material that had so nearly been my demise.
“Yes thanks, I seem to have bitten off more than I could chew,” I said, falling into my own word trap as Carol nearly squirted cola down her nose.
Wendy rolled her eyes at me and shook her head gently as if to say ‘wrong phrase dear’.
“Well I’m glad I was there to help,” Paul said graciously. I looked at him and my mouth fell open a little. What a cheek — it was his fault, but of course I couldn’t tell him that.
“Yes, very fortuitous,” I said trying to put some irony into my voice.
“The reason I came over was actually to ask you if you and your friends are busy at the weekend,” he said looking round the table at Joanne, Wendy and Carol then back to me.
“We’ve got a day out organised to the Lake District (Authors note - a national park area in Lancashire, England) and we’ve got some spare spaces on the bus which are going cheap, so cheap in fact that they’re free,” he added with a toothy salesman smile.
“Why us?” Wendy asked, canting her head slightly as if to say ‘I dare you to be honest’.
“I’d like to say it was pure philanthropy, but I have to say it’s more to do with I’d rather have 4 girls along than another 4 blokes.” Paul shrugged to lend honesty to his request.
I’d been looking at Paul and I had to say I wanted to jump up and say “yes” straight away. How weird that this guy I’d known for years suddenly seemed to be so different and in fact quite yummy. The only scary side being the fact that I knew him quite well and he might well put 2 and 2 together and get Jerry.
Paul spoke a bit more to try to convince us, “look, it’s a 20 seater bus and there’s 12 guys and 4 girls going at the moment, one the guys is paying for the day as it’s a birthday present from his dad. Don’t be shocked, his dad owns the bus company so it’s not that extravagant.” He added as an afterthought. “The other girls are sisters and girlfriends of some of the other guys.”
“Who’s the birthday boy then?” I asked — I couldn’t remember anyone whose dad was a bus company sort of person.
“Oh, that’d be me,” he said twisting his mouth as if to say ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that’.
I looked round the table at my friends who were all nodding ‘yes’ at me.
I bit the bullet.
“Ok, I think it sounds fantastic, thank you very much,” I said as it appeared he asked me more than the others. Paul grinned and looked back at his mates who were looking across the divided camp expectantly. He gave them a thumbs up and they grinned widely nudging each other like lecherous 15 year olds generally do when they get a chance to ‘trap’.
“Look, here’s my phone number, phone me later when we get back and we can sort out logistics and lunch and stuff.” He passed across a page torn from a small spiral notebook.
Paul Schofield 555672
L5X St Edwards
Was scrawled across the page in a hurried but neat hand.
I took the page and slipped it into my pocket.
“Er could I get your number in case you lose that bit of paper?” He asked colouring up slightly.
In my head things were whirling and bouncing, I could feel my face flushing a bit too.
I knew exactly where this was going and I had to admit it was very exciting and a little scary.
I tried to look nonchalant (as you do) “Sure” I said as if it meant nothing. The girls were giving each other the eye — they too knew the significance of a phone number changing hands.
I wrote my number on a slip of paper torn from my diary (the one I used to relate stuff to the shrink in fact) — this would make interesting reading…
I handed it to Paul who took it, gently touching my fingers as he did so — accidentally on purpose.
ZZAP — there it was again, I almost jumped out of my seat. It looked like he got one too as his eyes widened slightly.
He slipped the paper into his wallet and put it back into his pocket with a smile that said loads….
I hope I know what I’m doing… actually I have no idea, but it’s too late now and I don’t care, this guy is having an effect on me that I can’t explain and I’m going to explore this. It’s probably why there’s still a human race on Earth — as natural as the birds and bees and a lot to do with the euphemism.
Paul bowed slightly and said, “see you later, ladies.”
“Wait a second Paul,” I grabbed his jacket as he turned.
“What’s up?” He looked at me quizzically.
“I’d like to introduce you to Joanne Carol and Wendy,” I said as I pointed to each of my co-conspirators. “That’s just so your friends can sort out their daydreams later,” I said laughing. Paul’s head rolled back as he searched the heavens for inspiration.
“Oh I’m going to love this weekend,” he laughed and gripped my shoulder gently and walked back to his expectant, grinning friends.
Our table erupted into a sort of cacophony of chatter like a cage of birds had been shaken up. My friends were all grinning and looking over at the group of guys that Paul had returned to. Each of them looked pretty ok.
“Tell us who they are Jen,” they urged almost as one.
“Ok” — I looked across — “Tony, John, Paul and Thomas.” As I looked at them the memories flooded back, “They’re all pretty decent guys, ‘good families’ is how my mum would put it. Top half of the class or better. Not swots, good sportsmen, all in all a fine bunch of guys. Oddly enough, I don’t think I ever associated with them in any real sense. I used to play chess with Tony and bridge with Thomas sometimes when it was wet and we had to stay in at lunchtime.”
As I thought about that I realised that it was unlikely that they would ever put 2and 2 together and find the old me — I didn’t really know them at all even though we’d been classmates for years.
Such is the lonely existence of someone who really doesn’t fit into a structure. Isolated by a difference no one could see or even understand.
We slipped into the lecture theatre for the afternoon lecture and found the boys had been given one side of the auditorium and we the other.
I glanced across and Paul’s eyes were on me — as he saw me look, he waved and smiled — ooh that smile…
I gave him a little wave and a smile and that was all we had time for.
The thought of the weekend made me shiver in anticipation — I was still not sure if it was the thought of the risk or the not unreasonable desire to be close to a nice boy.
“Right boys and girls, quiet please, let’s begin……”
The trip home was an anticlimax. But the phone call was all we four talked about and what we would wear and what we would say and do and boys and buses and lakes and eeek.
“Hi mum,” I slung my backpack down in the hall and walked through to where mum was sipping a coffee and reading a magazine. Supper was in the oven and smelt super.
“Hello pet, how did the Planetarium visit go?” Mum looked up from her magazine and smiled as I sat down opposite her.
“Interesting would be a good word,” I offered.
“Followed by frightening and scary and downright terrifying.” I added.
“Why, what’s so scary about the stars, did it make you feel insignificant?” Mum looked a bit concerned.
“No. that part was great; it was the fact that King Edwards lower fifth was also there that covered the other adjectives. I had my whole life flash before my eyes and my whole class as well. Well they didn’t flash, but the effect was almost as bad.” I giggled when mum’s eyebrow shot up at the connotation.
“I ended up accepting a date with Paul Schofield — remember him, he was the best batsman in the junior school?”
“Whoa whoa hang on there Musky, what’s this about a date and yes I do remember him — question is, does he remember you?” Mum rattled to a stop and looked at me for an answer.
“It’s his birthday on Saturday and his dad, who owns Schofield Bus Line, has given him a present of the use of a bus and lunch for 20 in the Lake District. So can I go??”
I looked with shiny eyes at my mother who looked back at me with steady yet slightly surprised eyes.
“This is very sudden, I thought you were off boys ‘til you were ‘sorted’?” she made a question of it.
Well actually so did I but he didn’t recognise me at all and he is very nice and with all those people with us it should be safe and Joanne, Carol and Wendy are coming too and and..” I stuttered to a halt.
Mum waved her hands and smiled, “hey, it’s ok with me if you’re sure. How much is lunch going to be?” She asked calculating how much I would need as pocket money.
“Like I said, nothing, it’s a birthday bash.” I grinned and swept my hair back out of my eyes. “Paul even gave me his phone number.” I added
“The question is, did you give him yours?” mum smiled knowingly.
“Um — yes,” I flushed a bit. “It only seemed fair.”
“I have to say that this is a complete turnaround from yesterday. I hope your hormones don’t flip you into touch and leave you all lost and alone again. Now off you go and get changed and do your homework BEFORE you phone the rest of the world.”
I almost skipped up the stairs to my room. How weird is that.
Bring Brring, Bring Brring, Brinnng
“Hello? Jenny.” I answered in my usual fashion thinking it was going to be Wendy, after all I hadn’t been home ten minutes, who else could it be?
“Hi, it’s Paul,” came over the line.
PANIC…
“Oh er Hi Paul, I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” I gulped.
“I was just checking you hadn’t sold me a dummy,” he smiled down the phone. “I didn’t want to order the extra lunches in Windemere unless you were for real, dad told me to check anyway,” he said trying to pass off the excuse. “Well I also wanted to hear your voice again, it’s just so warm and friendly and not in the least standoffish,” he added.
“Why would it be standoffish?” I asked perplexed and not a little intrigued.
“Pretty girls are usually a bit cold, they tend to dismiss and control and the first thing you hear is their dead voice, like it’s too much trouble. Yours is totally different, it’s shy and warm and like dew on the grass in the morning — sort of clean and fresh.”
“You’re spinning me a line right?” I asked starting to giggle.
You soppy individual, where on earth did that line come from? Dew on the grass….. eeeww.” I was belly laughing now.
“Besides who says I’m pretty?” I added as an afterthought. “Pretty ordinary more like.”
“No, honestly, I don’t usually spout rubbish to girls, I’ve actually not had much chance, you lot are quite unapproachable usually. But you and your friends are really friendly, not in the least stuck up like Grammar School Girls usually are.”
“Oi you, wait a cotton pickin’ minute,” I laughed, “ it’s you lot that are usually prone to precipitating out at the opposite end of a room to the girls. Look at today, you were the only one that breached that great divide. Why was that, by the way?”
“I really wanted to talk to you and I knew if I didn’t do it then, I’d not get another chance — probably til sixth form.” He chuckled, admitting his rejoinder was weak but probably true.
“Alas you wouldn’t have a chance in Sixth form.”
“Oh, why’s that then?” He sounded confused as if my growing up would preclude him from my future.
“I’m moving to Australia in the New Year,” my voice had an edge of disappointment. There are some things that aren’t great about moving away. Losing your friends is one of them.
“That’s a bit sad, why are you moving?” He sounded like I felt - rug pulled out and all that.
“Dad’s job, he’s been given a new branch to run in Brisbane. Sort of new start thing, it’ll be several years, so I guess we’ll emigrate rather than come back again.”
I was telling him things I never thought I’d tell. I was including him in my life and I’d only known him half a day — plus the other five years of course, but they don’t count
“Oh, I see,” he sounded dejected now.
“Well we have three months I guess, before I go,” — crikey where did that come from?
He cheered up a bit at that, “Yeah, make hay while the snow falls eh? — no that doesn’t sound right,” he hesitated, I could sense he was going to say ‘make love while the snow falls’ but had the sense to keep his male humour in his own head.
“Well, Saturday? What’s the routine? Do we meet you somewhere at what time?” Changing the subject before he fell in his sword
“Yeah how about 8am at the War Memorial Square we have to come through that way and it’s pretty central. Just bring warm clothing and an umbrella — maybe wellies too, it can get pretty muddy.”
“I have some walking boots, I’ll pack those. No fancy clothes then?”
“No it’s an outdoorsy thing — maybe a bit of sailing on the lake — have you ever sailed?”
“Oh yes” I said smiling at the memory, “I’ve even won races.”
“You’re on — see you Saturday” I could hear his smile
“Yeah, right, that’s a date,” oops, too late, shouldn’t have said that…
“Byyeee” I could hear his grin now!
I rang the girls to confirm — all is good! Didn’t tell them about the slip ups. I take full responsibility for my own goofs.
On the bus next morning Wendy asked me what clothes I was taking.
“Um.. I’m just going to wear a nice polo shirt and a pullover with some jeans and walking boots —I’ll take an anorak in case it’s wet. I’ll have some softshoes in my pack as well as my first aid kit and a pair of dry socks.” I tapped my chin as I mulled over any other stuff that I could possibly want
“No No NO you can’t just go like that, you have to take some other stuff just in case”
“In case of what?” I looked at her trying to work out what she was talking about.
“In case we get to go somewhere posh and stuff.”
“Paul said there’s no ‘posh’ involved,” I held up my wiggly fingers to emphasise the posh bit. “Actually he said we may go sailing, so I guess a spare pair of duds and warm top may be in order..” I paused - I was NOT going to take nice clothes to the Lake District. It wasn’t that sort of place unless you had your own car and a hotel booked.
“Ok, I demurred, a full change of clothes in case I fall in the lake and give Donald Campbell some company, but I draw the line at taking pretty stuff.” I looked at Wendy and she slowly shook her head.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear all that, now what are you really taking?” She tilted herhead and looked falsely bright, meaning — DO NOT REPEAT WHAT YOU JUST SAID.
“I’ve decided to take my full wardrobe in two steamer trunks and a hatbox full of makeup” I pursed my lips at her. “You’re doing it again — remember summer and the sailing?”
“Oh, that.. hmm yes”
“Lets keep it simple — we’re not out to impress the boys with anything more than our physical fitness, we can keep the ‘pretty’ for the disco if we are ever allowed to go. Besides, it’s harder to get at my body if I’m wearing stuff like that.” I added thoughtfully.
“Jenny, I don’t believe I heard you say that” Wendy looked shocked in a pantomime pose, “They wouldn’t do something like that would they?” then grinned to make sure I understood that she was looking for more than a walk round the lake.
“Right, I understand you loud and clear, you can go in a mini skirt and a boobtube if you like — I’m going for the fresh air, not the fresh hands.” We both giggled and got up to get off the bus.
Carol and Joanne were just getting off their bus and joined us. “What are you wearing?” Carol this time..
Wendy opened salvos, “I’m not sure, Jenny is wearing sackcloth and ashes or something.” She looked sideways and grinned at me. I gave her a haughty look and pretended to walk off to the main school block.
Joanne volounteered, “Well I’m going to be practical — I’m wearing jeans and a warm top — last time I went to the Lakes in a dress, I got soaked and cold and it wasn’t much fun. Carol seems to think this is going to be a tea party thing. I am pretty sure it’s going to be an outdoors event and more to do with boys trying to impress us and us all getting muddy.”
Carol rolled her eyes, “Well at least take something you can change into if we do go somewhere nice.
“Are you going to buy Paul a pressy?” Carol asked me as we walked to the assembly hall.
“I’m thinking about it? Any ideas?”
“Well you could always just wrap a ribbon round your chest and tie a bow at the front,” she suggested in mock innocence, “that, I’m sure, would be appreciated.”
I shook my head, “I don’t know where you get your ideas from - sounds like something Miranda would come up with,” I ventured.
“Meeaiow, ooh aren’t you the bitchy one,” she grinned and clawed the air for emphasis.
“I’ve got an idea, but I’m not telling.” I had just had a minor inspiration.
Saturday morning we all rolled into the bus, it was a cold but dry morning where we were, but it was nearly always less so in the ‘Lakes’.
I was carrying my lightweight day-pack — fortunately, though it was an old one that Jerry had, it hadn’t seen the light of day for a long time and was not genderised by being male colours.
The other girls had opted for grip bags probably to hold more options. The driver opened the side luggage bay and put the offending articles in the almost empty cavity.
There were a few lightweight backpacks like mine and two grips with feminine overtones.
Looked like I was at least partially right.
Climbing on the bus we got hi’s from everyone and Paul stood up and greeted us.
“Hello again, glad you could make it,” his eyes said a lot more.
I shook his hand again EEEK — I wish it wouldn’t do that.
“Could you reintroduce your friends again? almost everyone else knows everyone so we’d like to make you feel at home.” His eyes were smiling at me — it was making me hot under the collar but I was basking in it like a sunlamp.
I raised my voice slightly, “Right, Joanne, Carol and Wendy meet these persons on the bus.” I suddenly came over a bit dizzy, I nearly started introducing them — I knew nearly all their names and of course I shouldn’t. I took a very deep breath and sat down where Paul ushered me — oh — next to him — I flushed again… sheesh get over it girl.
Everyone returned the greeting and got settled as the bus pulled into the traffic.
Next stop Clitheroe
The Way Things Happen
Part 10
Jennifer Christine
The continuing Story of Jenny Holland
Actually Forton Services was where we stopped for a comfort break, by which time I knew quite a lot about Paul that I’d never heard before.
And he knew a little about me, neither of us was put off by what we knew about each other — in fact I sensed he was really pleased with who I appeared to be.
I didn’t lie, but it was hard not to include the past into who I was now. I did include what I could but it’s difficult to tell someone you like making model aeroplanes and stuff when you’re a girl.
So I left out the planes and included the music which was middle of the road and quite banal. Usual stuff. The Kinks, The Who, Rolling Stones, Beatles — Elvis.
“You like Elvis?” He asked astonished, “eeew, and I thought you had taste.”
“Well I quite like his voice, my brother is responsible for the knowledge of his music.” I averred. “At least I don’t like Tom Jones and Englebert Humperdink.” I retaliated.
“Neither do I, so at least we’re safe there.” He laughed, he had a nice laugh, warm, friendly.
“Did you know Freddie Garretty was the swimming bath attendant at Victoria Baths before he joined Freddie and the Dreamers?” Paul asked, laughing.
“You’re kidding?” I was incredulous.
“Honest to God,” he crossed his heart.
“He used to be a scout troop leader too, before he started jumping up and down waving his knickers in the air.” (*one of their songs) Paul added chuckling
I guffawed and laughed and he laughed with me. This was really nice.
As we stopped at Forton Services the driver said “15 mins only”, I followed the Paul into the aisle and as he preceded me down the steps he turned and offered me a steadying hand which I took without much thought. Except that once he had handed me down, he didn’t let go. I gave him a longish look then just smiled and he smiled back. My hand remained in his…
We walked up to the café and he offered me a cup of coffee.
“Oh no thanks, I need to pay a visit though,” so I retrieved my hand which had nearly gone numb with the intense heightened awareness of holding a guy’s hand.
“Wow, holding hands already I see,” was what greeted me when I opened the door to the loo. Carol was just coming out of the stall— she’d been busting for a pee since getting on the motorway and had rushed ahead.
Wendy and Joanne came in behind me.
“What a turn around, one minute she’s going all nun on us next she’s holding hands with mr nice guy.” Wendy giggled and I blushed and retreated to the stall to do my thing.
When I came out two of the other girls on the bus had joined our throng — they were going out with two of the other guys and had been for a while. So I couldn’t really blab with Wendy or the others.
I washed my hands and combed my hair — slipping my Alice band back into place.
“Why do you wear that thing, you hair looks lovely over your face.”
I rolled my eyes at Carol and whispered — “that’s how my hair was last year,” giving her a meaningful stare.
“Oh.. yes, ok,” she looked like she understood and left it at that.
When I got outside Paul was right there waiting like a puppy. I smiled and my hand slipped back into his like it had always been there. I was incredibly comfortable with this. I was also astonished. But then it had been about four and a half months since I went over to the softer side of things and my mind was very much further along than that really. Anyway, I wasn’t complaining.
The reality was that I had somehow reached a place where the old me simply wasn’t visible and any resemblance was purely coincidental.
“You look a bit like you’re daydreaming?”
“Oh sorry, I was just thinking about a school project,” I prevaricated.
“That’s such a miserable thought, what can I do to make you happier?” He squeezed my hand and smiled. I didn’t look at him, I could see him in my peripheral vision.
“Actually, I like school and I enjoy some of the projects we get to do,” I enlarged. “I have to make a light operated transmitter/receiver for the exhibition before Christmas break.” I suddenly thought of what else it was before and my heart fluttered a bit.
“That sounds very ungirly, Why don’t yu go for broke and strip a car engine as well?”
Paul smirked.
“I’ll have you know, that I’m going to be a famous physicist one day” I challenged him with a nose in the air.
“If you say, then so shall it be.” Paul smite his breast with his right fist and bowed nearly stumbling into the café, C’mon let’s get a cuppa and get back to the bus.”
I let him drag me by the hand, joining Carol and Wendy who looked at us and our entwined hands and rolled eyes heavenward in supplication. “Oh lordy lordy, what have we unleashed? Adam and Eve have been allowed back into the garden — quick find an apple.”
Joanne reached from behind me and plonked one on my tray. “Eat and become aware child, you shall have your eyes opened this day.” She droned then spoiled it all by giggling. I kept the apple and added a cup of rather dishwatery tea that looked almost grey to my tray —
“That’ll be one and sixpence dear or seven and a half P in new money… I’ll never get used to it,” the middle aged till lady shook her head and sighed. “Why do they have to keep changing things?”
“I’ll get that,” Paul offered the lady the correct money for both of us and the lady smiled and rung up the total.
“Thanks dear, I think you’re better at arithmetic than this ‘ere till.”
Paul smiled and we popped the trays back into the stack and took our refreshments back to the bus.
As we rolled out of the carpark I thought about that lady and her life. Did she have kids? did she have a life? Did she care? I t was sad that there seemed to be so many people who didn’t get to challenge how they lived or explore anything new. A life where the beginning and end merge and there’s nothing in between.
“Penny for them?”
“Ooh sorry, I was just thinking about that lady, how sad and gray her life seemed to be.” I sipped at the warm liquid, “ A bit like this tea really.” I nearly snorted as the humour of it caught me by surprise.
Paul laughed with me. “My what a philosopher, and funny with it. I like you more and more.”
I looked up at him and smiled, his face came closer and closer and suddenly our lips were touching. The bus went dark; all I could see were Paul’s eyes. Electricity flowed through me from top to bottom surging back and forth like a tidal wave. If I hadn’t got a cup of tea and an apple in my hand, I’d have been tearing at his clothes.
The moment dragged on like an event horizon — time went slower and slower.
‘POP’ I plonked back to Earth as a bump in the road jostled us apart..
“Oh my.” my face flushed and I looked through my eyelashes at him almost embarrassed by what had happened.
Paul looked like a stunned rabbit. Eyes like saucers and all his senses shorted out.
“Crumbs (idiomatic expletive from that era), that was incredible. What just happened?” He whispered to me.
I looked round to see if anyone had noticed…. As if…anyone would miss it.
Nearly everyone who was sat behind us was watching us like we were an instructional movie.
Slowly the guys started clapping, I turned back beetroot red and Paul came round a bit. He darted his head to his friends and they stopped — they could see he wasn’t amused.
“I’m so sorry, it was like I was hypnotised by your lips, I had to touch them and..and.. well yes, and that’s what happens I guess.”
He could see I was a bit swamped as well and he put his arm round me. I felt comfort in his strength and snuggled into his chest. “S’ok, it was nice,” I smiled at him and allowed myself to relax.
“Right here we are at Windermere, we have the whole day, it’s ten am and the bus leaves at 5pm.
If I can have you back here at 4.50 that would be lovely,” the driver said over the speaker system.
Paul detached himself from me and spoke up. “Ok guys, there’s minigolf, pitch and put, sailing and rowing and food. The food’s at the lakeside café at 12.00 be there or be hungry.”
Payment has been organised at those places, if you go there, just say you’re from the Schofield Party. Split up for Heaven’s sake or we’ll swamp the place. Let’s go” he grinned and led the way off the bus.
Actually that was a bit silly as Windermere was geared to cater for hundreds and there were already plenty of tourists there.
In the end we pretty much stayed in two groups, one went for the pitch and put and one went for the Minigolf.
As we alighted from the bus the cool cool breeze whistled round my ears and I felt quite chilly after being snug in Pauls arms. He memory of it suddenly warmed me and I smiled. Looking round for him.
The girls less well covered dug into their grips and pulled out their jackets and scarves. I smiled at them as they quickly insulated themselves from the Arctic chill.
“Don’t you dare say, ‘told you so’” Joanne glared at me, grinning at the same time.
Wendy piped up, “ I don’t suppose we’ll see much of you today?” raisingher eyebrows at me.
I looked at the girls and nodded to them, “Well I guess not if you’re going to be hanging with Paul’s friends,” I returned.
They looked round and there were Tony, John and Thomas waiting in the wings.
We all laughed and headed for the minigolf.
It shouldn’t take long to get round the minigolf , but today it did because we were almost hysterical with teenage hormones and the opposite sex confounding our senses. We laughed and giggled and hugged and cheered our way round the tiny course and at the end we all seemed to have found our ‘dates’ and partners, for the day at least.
“I need a drink of something, I know, lets get an ice cream and see if there’s any sailing going on.” Paul led us out onto the marina side and looked over at the clinker built gaff rigged cutters — stable and sturdy craft.
“They look ok, won’t get too wet in those will we?” Paul assessed the boats and pointed — “hey there’s the ice cream van, come on let’s get a 99 and then book a couple of boats for this arvo.” Grabbing my arm and pulling me into his him, “Gotta keep you warm so you can be ready for racing.” He grinned at me like the excuse was reasonable.
“Then why are you buying me an ice cream? “ I laughed and interlocked my fingers in his and walked over to the van.
“Eight 99s please, - that’s 892 all up” He boasted
“Leave it out Paul, you’ll confuse the poor man.”
We continued on like this as we walked along the lake edge, Paul occasionally bending to pick up a flat rock and skim it across the water — usually failing
When I looked round, the others had split up into pairs and were variously sitting on the turf or walking round the lake edge.
I felt a finger on my chin and looked at Paul who had appeared in front of me. Once more I fell into that spell and we kissed, holding onto each other sharing our warmth and our love…..
I pulled back, then succumbed again to that feeling of being lost in another’s arms. This I could get used to.
Paul’s arms encircled me like a warm ring of protection I felt so wonderful and loved.
“This is amazing, I’ve never felt like this- ever .” I confessed
“Me either. I feel like something special is happening.” Paul whispered to me as we stood by the water’s edge locked in our warm embrace.
“No matter what happens, I’ll never forget this moment.” I smiled up at Paul and kissed him gently on the lips and turned to continue the walk. We walked to the café cuddled together and not just for the warmth, even though that was a neat bonus.
The clan was gathering and the waitress showed us to a corner of the room where a pair of trestle tables had been set up for us.
Being early November it was not busy so we nearly had the place to ourselves. It was warm and cosy and the smell of fresh baked goodies and coffee permeated the air.
We were all glad to shed a layer of clothing and chatted like a chimpanzees tea party.
Paul sat at the head of one table with me at his right like his queen.
He rose from his seat and said, “Thank you all for coming today, it makes me feel very privileged to have such a big group of friends.”
Someone in the crowd said, “hangers on you mean.” Which raised the expected laugh.
“I hope you are all getting on ok with each other,”
“I can see you are,” More laughs.
“Right I can see I’m going to get nowhere with you lot. It’s fish and chips for lunch — or a salad with chicken. There’s Coke and Fanta and lemonade. Get stuck in“
Minor ribald cheers accompanied his sitting down.
Paul reached for my hand under the table, “I wish it had just been us here now. I’m feeling rather indulgent and silly having such a huge party.” He looked me in the eye and I had to look away before I steamed over.
“And what for you miss?” brought me to my senses —
“Oh er Fish and chips I think — it’s too cold for salad,”
“Me too” Paul agreed.
We continued to hold hands until the meal arrived. It didn’t go unnoticed by Carol sitting next to me with Thomas by her side She smiled at me and raised her right hand — attached to Thomas’s.
Wendy noticed and held up John’s hand, whereupon Joanne did the same with Tony’s hand.
Paul laughed out loud and declared his team lost to the wiles of the high school team.
Lunch arrived. Fish and chips never tasted so well.
As we ate, the lake we could see through the window got darker and darker and mistier and mistier. Soon it was obvious that the weather was getting seriously savage and boating was going to be a no chance event.
Flurries swiped at the water and a fierce chop was set up. We watched as rain squalls hurried across the lake and then rain falling steadily as the wind died.
“Well I’m glad we’re warm and dry and sat in here.” Paul volunteered
The place had filled up somewhat as people had taken refuge from the rain but cleared soon as people decided to head for their cars — looked like the rain was here to stay for the day.
The lounge area of the café had a fire and some seating which we decided to take advantage of - Paul asked if he could use the phone — I was intrigued until he told me that he was going to cancel the boating — he didn’t want the guy sitting round all afternoon in this weather waiting for us and us not showing.
I liked this guy more and more — he was showing care and thoughtfulness that I wouldn’t have credited.
When he came back he settled next to me his arm draping naturally over my shoulders as I snuggled into him. This I could get used to.
I thought over what I felt for this guy and realised I really was fond of him and nothing he had done was in any way bad or thoughtless or snobby.
His family were obviously well off and he appreciated not the money but the doors which lay open for him to use. He honoured the gentleman’s code and didn’t misuse it.
He didn’t get off on looking down on people he enjoyed helping them and earned respect from it. He was a lot more mature than his buddies. But he led them into his way and they were a nice bunch of lads too.
I started to feel very lucky that Paul had picked me to be his girlfriend. Girlfriend, gosh — so soon I had become this person attached by a mutual fondness and respect for this lovely guy.
“You’re very quiet,” Paul quietly shook me from my reverie.
“I’m just thinking how lucky I am to be your girlfriend,” I confessed looking into his eyes as my hand touched his cheek.
His smile said it all, ‘Not as lucky as me. I have you’ His voice said. “Will you be my girlfriend properly, as in going steady? I’d hate to have to think of you being with someone else.”
“You don’t have to ask, I’m here..” I felt a sting in my eyes like I was going to cry in happiness — instead I just purred and snuggled back down to enjoy the warmth.
Time passed quickly and slowly that afternoon — Paul and I bonded very quickly and it was obvious to everyone that we were suddenly an item. All of a sudden we were back on the bus heading home.
“I’ve had the best birthday ever and all I did was sit in front of the fire all afternoon.” Paul admitted. “Mind you the company was awesome.” He added flippantly.
“Me too, it was the least of my expectations,” I replied ‘ but it was the best of my hopes’ my mind added. Not only had I not been outed, I had all but fallen in love with one of the nicest guys I had ever met.
“I never realised that the grammar school churned out such nice men.” I smiled. He purred under my adoring gaze. “Don’t get to complacent mister. I need constant attention and a lot of TLC.”
“What’s TLC?” He asked, puzzled.
“You never heard that before? It means Tender Loving Care”
“I think you can count on lots of that — I’m not going to mess with you - you’re too precious.” His arm tightened across my shoulder.
“Well what a wonderful mutual admiration society we’ve formed.” I laughed and he joined me.
“Yes we sound like a right pair don’t we?” He gave me a peck on the lips and settled back as the bus ripped down the motorway.
We had to slow as we passed a nasty accident. A mini and a Morris 1100 had hit each other head on - the mini was only 4 feet long and it sobered us all up — even though we’d not had a drink. The ambulances were everywhere — and they were trying to get a guy out of the driver’s side of the mini he looked like a rag doll and the engine was rolled on top of him pinning him to the passenger in the back seat. (author’s note, I was actually the passenger in the back seat in that accident. The driver and his three passengers survived)
I hid my eyes and started sobbing. Paul held me tight and let me cry.
Later as I came round a bit I looked at him to say thanks, he was as white as a sheet.
“What’s the matter?”
“I know who’s car that is and the passengers, I recognised them they’re from our school. — sixth form.
One of the guys at the back said. “Was that Chris’s car? We saw him and his buddies on the pitch and put this morning.” We all fell silent.
Not the end of a perfect day, but maybe the end to a perfect day.
When the bus pulled up back at the memorial, Paul let me go — “I’ll phone you later — I want to find out if Chris and his mates are ok. Sorry it put a dampener on the afternoon.” He apologised.
“Hey don’t apologise, it just happened and you were wonderful — you let me cry knowing that your school mates were in that accident. That makes you very courageous and … “ I kissed him. “Phone me”
Part 11
The continuing story of Jenny Holland
by Jennifer Christine
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When the bus pulled away I looked at the other girls and they looked a bit devastated but strangely happy.
“Don’t know what to say, it was all wonderful until that car crash scene.” Carol held her face in her hands. “Those poor guys all twisted up like that.”
“C’mon let’s get the bus and get cleaned up and stuff.” I suggested.
We no longer felt like youngsters- we felt old and tired — we’d witnessed what looked like a killing field with our friends once removed lying in it unmoving..
We barely spoke on the way home. We all hugged and parted to our various houses and promised to phone as soon as we knew something.
“Hellloooo,” I called as I opened the door..
“I’m through in the kitchen dear,” mum responded warmly “come and tell me all about your day.”
“Yeah, in a minute mum. Is Nigel in?
“No dear. You sound upset, what’s happened? come in here where I can see you — I hate talking through doors.”
I walked through and as soon as mum saw me she rushed to me and hugged me “What on Earth is the matter? You look like death warmed over.”
“It was horrible mum, we saw a car smash and it was friends of ours — do you remember Chris with the red mini in the year behind Nige? They were all broken up mum and squashed into the mini - it looked like they were dead mum”. I couldn’t bear it I wailed into my mums shoulder.
Mum rubbed my back and slowly I subdued to hiccoughs and snuffles.
“Come and sit down and I’ll make us a cuppa.” Mum’s answer to everything.
“How was the rest of your day?” She looked over at me from the stove.
I coloured up a bit and said nonchalantly — “Ok I guess” I think it must have been too nonchalantly — mum pounced. “Oh yes, tell me more.”
Well I … do you remember Paul at all? — I used to sit next to him. When I was a sprog (new boy at school).
I ended up with him all day.” I coloured up as I thought about it.
Mum watched me, smirking a bit , “Go on.” She invited.
“He’s really nice mum, he’s really grown up and is very sweet and so kind,” I tried to skirt round the word forming in my head.
“You mean hunky and delicious?” She suggested.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I pouted unsuccessfully.
“Been there, done that, remember that guy that comes in here at 5.30 most days — that’s what he was like. You be careful missy — “ mum flushed and went silent for a second.. “I was going to suggest something then but I’ll leave it at Be careful.”
“You were going to say don’t get pregnant weren’t you? I laughed for a moment then it hit me worse than ever and I sobbed,” I can never get pregnant- I can’t even make love. Oh mum I wish it was all over, I’m getting really frustrated.” I felt like crying again but it wasn’t going to happen — I had no more tears left. For now.
I sipped my tea and dunked a digestive biscuit in it — life is never quite as simple as it appears to be.
B-r-i-n-g , B-r-i-n-g — I lifted the handset before it rang a second time.
“Hello, Jenny Holland” I swallowed.
“Hi it’s me,” Paul said quietly. “How are you?“
“Are they ok? I’m fine. Tell me they’re not dead pleeeaaasse” I urged.
“No, they’re ok, Grahams got busted ribs Jeremy’s got a face full of glass cuts and a broken jaw, Richard has a cracked skull and Chris has multiple crush fractures but no spinal damage — skull was cracked by Jeremy’s jaw apparently.
He going to be out of it for a while but they’re all going to mend ok.” Paul’s voice was melodic and soothing.
“Thank God for that,” I suddenly felt drained like the tension had been taken out of my spine. “I shall sleep better knowing they’re not at death’s door”
“Well Chris isn’t exactly doing a ‘singing in the rain’ impression but he’s stable.”
Paul chided.
“Well ok, I promise not to sleep too soundly then, I shall certainly say a prayer for them, it must have been horrible to know you’re going to crash — do the know what happened.?” I was wound up like a clock spring
“Chris’s brother said a witness had seen this car coming over the safety barrier from the other side about ten foot in the air and it landed right in front of Chris’s car. Apparently it was doing way over the speed limit.”
“Whoo, in the rain too.” My head hurt thinking about it.
“So besides that, did you enjoy today?” Paul’s voice softened.
“Oh did I enjoy it? Well my knight in shining armour, I have to say that the day was beyond my wildest dreams. It’s a pity your white horse was a white bus.” I lightened up considerably knowing that the crash victims were safe.
So what are you doing tomorrow — there’s a new James Bond I haven’t seen — would you like to be my arm candy?
“Cheek, arm candy — I’ve already told you I’m going to be a Nobel Prize winning physicist. You can be my arm candy.” I laughed and he joined me.
“O.K-a-y — look I wanna get cleaned up, I’ll ring you later ok? I just wanted to let you know that the guys were still kicking.” Paul sounded like he needed a pee.
“Well, only if you tell me you miss me” I whined.
“Miss who? who are you anyway?” I could hear him smile “Course I miss you, I wouldn’t ring you if I didn’t silly moo.”
“Seeya,” I kissed the mouthpiece. I heard an echo.
Click — I was happy.
“They’re gonna be ok and I’m going to the pictures tomorrow.” I shouted out so mum could hear - I wallowed in my happiness.
A brief echo, “That’s nice dear.” came from the kitchen.
It wasn’t long before a routine established itself and Paul and I were seen as an item.
The longer it went on, the harder it was for me to contain myself and the harder it was to stop myself from lying.
I got a brief respite when Paul got a nasty flu bug for a few days and then when I got it from him and he couldn’t see me for a few days.
The boys in hospital were soon out except for Chris who was in hospital for months — though he was moved to a local one.
We all went to see him at some point but whilst he was brave, it was obvious he wasn’t going to be his old self for a long time.
As the autumn term progressed, Paul decided he’d like to move the relationship to the next level and I had to make a decision whether to tell him or hold him off for longer or dump him completely.
I hurt like anything as my conscience fought with my libido and my heart fought with my head.
“What should I do mum? Paul is never going to want to see me again and I don’t want to hurt him and I don’t want him to hurt ME.”
“Why do you need to tell him,” mum looked up from the sweater she was knitting for Nigel in some ghastly double-double knit orange wool — she looked at my eyes widen and then the blush. “Oh, I see. Getting bored with cuddles — Well I guess the only way you’re going to get out of it is to start to distance yourself from him.”
“How am I supposed to do that? We see each other practically every day.” I whined a bit as I really didn’t WANT to lose him but I knew I had to..
B-R-i-n-g B-R-i-n-g B-R-i-n-g — I picked up the handset knowing it was Paul
“Hi you”. He smooched down the phone.
“Hello Paul, how you doon?”
“What’s with the Hello Paul? Is someone monitoring the call?”
“No, of course not, I’m just a bit distracted; I’m working on this project. For the school science fair, remember? it’s next week and I haven’t got the thing sorted yet..”
“Do you want a hand?”
“Most certainly not, that would be cheating,” I tried not to grin I wanted him to feel a bit cold shouldered.
“Hey, hold on there! What have I done to deserve the ear bleed you’re giving me?” his voice took on a slightly narky edge.
“Well nothing actually but I’m tired and I want to get on do you mind.?” I twisted my voice towards the agitated trying to escalate the damage — my heart lurched, and I wanted to cry and run to him. “I’d really like a bit of space sometimes, you know?”
I heard a gasp from the other end of the phone, “Jen? Are you alright, you sound like someone’s got you by the throat?”
I took a deep shuddering breath, “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just tired.” Oh no, now I’m giving him mixed signals — he’ll want to come over and see me now.
“This isn’t your time of the month or something is it?” He asked cautiously.
Tears started to form in my eyes and leaked down my cheek as I stood there trying not to let him hear me sob.
I managed to gather myself a bit, “ I’ll catch you later eh?” I put the phone down and howled out loud mum came running out of the kitchen and dad came running out of the lounge. “Goodness, I thought you’d impaled yourself on a fire iron for a minute, what on Earth is the matter?” Dad held me as I sobbed.
Mum put her hand on my arm and drew my attention “Paul?” She only had to say that one word, I nodded and disappeared back into my father’s safe embrace.
The phone rang again and Mum answered it. “No Paul, she’s in her room and said she doesn’t want to be disturbed.” Mum continued after a moment. “I don’t know dear, perhaps she’s worried that you’re getting too close, don’t forget we’re moving to Australia in a few months and we’ve a lot to do and a lot to think about. “… “Yes I know you do pet, but it’s not going to be easy to say goodbye for either of you is it?”
I stood there like a stone statue imagining Paul’s face as he realised I was throwing away our relationship. My father’s arms protected me physically but my heart was being wrenched this way and that by the tide of my emotions.
I felt at once both sick and dizzy — like I’d been poisoned
I wanted to reach out and take the phone from my mother and tell Paul it was ok and that I loved him — but I knew it would destroy whatever chance I had of staying innocent of being duplicitous. I was lying to stop the bigger lie from showing.
Suddenly I realised I was lying on my bed and Dad was wiping my brow with a cool wet towel. “It’s ok darling, you fainted — I think you held your breath until you passed out.” He looked into my eyes and checked to see if anyone was home. “Mum’s off the phone now, Paul said he’d check you out tomorrow.” His look of concern made me nearly wail again.
I sat up suddenly, getting room spin and nearly catching dad under the chin with my head. “I mustn’t see him again, I’ve got to get away and and….and I’m not making sense am I?” I looked at Dad and he raised an eyebrow.
“Well not really, in normal terms, but I can see where you’re coming from.” He squeezed my hand. “Go and wash your face and comb your hair, you’ll feel better.”
He got up and left me in the half light of the bedroom. What light there was spilling from the hall onto where I had lain on my bed, the ruffled counterpane showing where dad had sat to tend me and the silhouette of my body showing in the wrinkles like a ghost of Paul’s girlfriend slipping silently into the night. I pulled the counterpane straight and shut the door and went and washed my face..
I was hurting, but the first blow had been dealt and I knew that I could do it even though I hated to. All I had to do was keep it up.
There were only 5 weeks to Christmas and my operation.
Wendy and I were wandering along for the bus to school when a car pulled up next to us and Paul got out. To say I was stunned was a little short of the mark but his face looked like it had been jumped on — he looked like he hadn’t slept.
“Jen — I needed to see you,” Paul blurted out, “I just wanted to check you’re alright.”
I knew how he was feeling, I had looked in the mirror this morning and could see exactly the same effect on my face — I felt as I looked.
“Hi sweetie,” I leaned into him and his arms went round me like a glove. It felt so nice. I could feel his relief flooding his system — I could feel his hammering heart slow and become soft and regular as mine was doing. This was not going as planned.
I lifted my head and his lips met mine — my eyes went all shiny and two small tears escaped and ran back to my ears. Arrrrgh — no — I couldn’t let this happen.
“No! NO! stop!” I pushed him away, he looked confused and a bit angry.
“Jen, what’s up, what’s happening?” his eyes pleading his hands open in supplication.
“I can’t do this any more, it’s not fair. I don’t want to fall in love and then lose you. Go away, find someone else to love — someone who isn’t going to Australia.” I turned away from him devastated, and ran for the bus with my head down. I could see him from the corner of my eye next to the car, folorn, confused, sad, angry.
Wendy caught me up and ran beside me, “Jeez girl what’s got you all in a fit with a leg in the air?”
I looked at her as the bus and we arrived at the stop together.
“I’ll tell you when I get my breath back,” I gasped and sobbed as I grabbed the pole and pulled myself onto the back of the bus.
I slumped in a seat and Wendy sat gently beside me her whole face one big question mark. She was concerned and her hands rested on mine as I sat gasping and shaking my head to try to rid me of the emotion in there.
“Wendy, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be so out of it, it’s just Paul, I think I’m falling in love with him and I can’t afford to — he’s too close and I don’t want him to know the truth about me.” Tear continued to flood from my eyes. I continued, ”he wants more than I can give him and I want to give him more than I have.”
A light went on in Wendy’s head. “Oh my God, I completely forgot about — you know what... How awful for you.” Her arm went protectively round my shoulder and she rubbed my back.
I felt very sorry for myself.
It felt like a long time to get to school and the day dragged on like it was 40 hours long.
It was not a good day and I went straight home after school, avoiding the usual coffee house visit on the way home. Wendy kept me company whenever she could and comforted me. We came to no conclusions as to how to resolve the dilemma.
When I opened the door mum was already home and after one look at me came over and helped me out of my coat and gave me a huge hug as I just stood there like a wounded doe, head down and panting with my eyes bugged out in shock at how I’d got myself into this position and no way out. I felt totally trapped.
“Come on petal, come and sit in the warm, I’ll get us both a nice cuppa.”
She led me into the kitchen and we sat at the table — a mug of tea appeared in front of me and I placed my hands round it, warming them. I hadn’t realised how cold I was.
I felt her hand on my back as she bent towards me.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Not really, it’s just a stupid corner I’ve got myself in and all I really have to do is wait and it’ll all die out — I just think it’ll make me die a bit as well and it hurts like hell.”
“Well that’s a very mature attitude, and a very correct appraisal, but I guess it doesn’t help much in the meantime huh?”
I shook my head and my hair danced, “He’s so lovely mum and I’m going to lose him.”
“Don’t blame yourself pet, this is one of those unavoidable points that make us know we’re alive.”
I nodded miserably, “It’s just a shame it hurts so much.”
We sipped our tea as the light dwindled; dad came in a little while later and found us sat in semidarkness, “Hello, what have we got here, a wake?”
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” I replied as he flicked the light switch and life flooded back into the house.
By Jennifer Christine
Part 12
‘So why so glum girls? Did you lose a pound and find 5p?”
“No, I lost one P and that was enough” — my lip started to quiver but I took a deep breath. “Think I finished with Paul, but I don’t think it’s finished with yet”. My little fists were clenched like I wanted to start a fight — but it was already over.
Dad walked over and put his arms round us both and gave us a squeeze. “I’m probably to blame for all this too with dragging us off to the other side of the world.
Will you reserve judgement on me til we move out there?” He opened his bag and took out a large envelope. “I have some pictures here of our house in Brisbane, the one that’s being built for us.”
“Built for us?” I raised my brows until my eyes looked like twin oysters (Well I had been crying a lot)
“Yes, built for us, it’s what they call a brick veneer with concrete tiled roof”
“This is what it looks like finished”, he took out the colour brochure and passed it to mum who shared it with me.
“How BIG is that?” I was looking at a house with at least three garage doors on one side and about 6 windows on the front wall.
“About 3 times the size of this one plus the three car garage. But there’s a large outdoor area at the back and… a swimming pool.” he smiled looking at his fingernails extended like he was inspecting nail varnish — he pretended to polish them on his lapel.
“Nothing too ostentatious for a start — maybe we’ll get a big one later.”
Mum was away in a dream and I’d completely forgotten the sadness of the afternoon (but only for a moment. Honest)
“How big is the garden?” I asked looking at the pictures — it didn’t have any neighbours so it was hard to tell how big the block was.
“About an acre, but there’s a horse trail at the back and a park about 200 yards down the trail. It’s a new estate, so there’s only a few houses there at the moment.” He added thoughtfully. “I’m not sure how man y other people will be living there actually but your school will be brand new — it only opens after Christmas.” (which is the new school year in Australia).
There’ll be plenty of other kids in the area — so you won’t be short of friends — I checked.” He smiled at me as I gazed at what looked like a paradise.
“Oh and there’s the sea only a mile or two down the road. There’s a Marina if we fancy having a boat too.
“Is there enough room to take Paul?” I looked at Dad and he returned my sad look. “Fraid not kiddo. But we may get him out there for a holiday if you are still interested in a year or two.”
“A year or two?” My head went back into tail spin — “Oh Daddy, I’m just so unhappy.” My shoulders started to shake and mum put her arm round me and drew me to her.
“There, there pet. There’s nothing we can say at the moment that’s going to make you feel better. It’s true though, if you and Paul are still interested in each other next summer we’ll get Paul out to visit.” I could hear the sincerity in the voice and I knew that they would do it too.
I felt mollified, but still devastated. I still hadn’t really sat down with Paul to make a clean break — and I’d have to do it soon.
My operation was coming up in a few weeks and nothing was going to get in the way of that.
“Right let me get dinner on”, mum got up and started to get back into routine. I got up and grabbed my bag and took it to my room
I was just passing the phone when it went off. I looked at it and shook my head. I looked at dad and a tear fell from my eye as I shook my head and walked up the stairs.
“Oh Hello Paul….” I heard dad saying as I shut my bedroom door. I sat on my bed and felt like I’d been emptied. Just a hollow skin with no soul and no fight left.
“Jen! Dinner time!” I heard the call and shook myself — I hadn’t moved.
“Sheesh I’ve got to get a grip!” I said out loud - I shouted - “right O — two minutes,”
down to mum, then rushed to get changed into something less ‘school like’
Usual jeans and stuff — oddly enough they felt like they fitted, they snuck over my hips and really felt snug.
When I got downstairs, dad was just laying the table and he looked up when he hear me enter. His eyes travelled appraisingly up my body. His expression did a sort of internal wow and he smiled at me, “you fill those jeans rather well, I’m not sure I should allow you out in them!” he smiled to show me he was joking.
“You buttering me up for something?” I flirted back.
“Hey, no practising on defenceless fathers,” he held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Careful now this dish is hot,” mum popped down the tray with a roast chicken and some roast potatoes. “Be a pet and fetch the veggies and gravy would you Jen?”
Normality was returning.
“Your penultimate meeting with the doc is tomorrow after school do you want to go alone or shall I pick you up or meet you there?” Mum reminded me.
“Can I go alone then? You don’t mind?” I was quite taken with the idea that they thought I’d be ok on my own.
“Of course, but if you think you’re going to be upset, it may be better if I pick you up after at least.” Giving me the opportunity to be independent and not worried about the meeting.
“That sounds pretty good — I’ll get out about 20 to 6 as the appointment is for 5pm.
I’d rather not be alone in town after dark.”
“Sold to the highest bidder, it gives me time to get supper on too.” Mum smiled and started to collect the plates. “Your turn for the dishes Jen.”
The turn in conversation stepped me away from thinking of Paul and back to thinking about me — which was both good and bad. “Do you think everything will go Ok in Geneva?”
“Why shouldn’t it? It should be a great time and you’ll be able to see the alps with proper snow on; we’ll try to get around without making you uncomfortable after your op.” Dad was trying to get his head around the operation. “How are you feeling about all that stuff? It seems very drastic from my point of view.”
I looked at him like he was a bit crazy. “How on earth could I live with a girl’s body and a boy thingy that doesn’t work? It’s not like I have much choice in the matter really, is there?” I hadn’t realised that the male worship of the penis was alive and strong in the Holland homestead.
“I guess not, I’m really not that different from other blokes am I? I seem to have a hang up about ‘losing masculinity’ same as all the other men. I thought that I actually might have learnt by now. I find myself wanting… Perhaps I should make a booking with your doc to see if I need some therapy!” He smiled in apology and helped me clear the table.
I sat by the phone later, determined to ring Paul. I shouted out to Dad, “What did you say to Paul earlier Daddy? I’m going to ring him and I don’t want to make it harder.”
If you come in here, I’ll tell you .” he replied from the study. “I’m not shouting it round the house.” I went in.
“I told him that you were really upset and that you were trying not to hurt him but that you felt that going any further would destroy both you and him. I said you’d phone later if you felt up to it.”
“Thanks Daddy, you’re really very sensitive for a guy, aren’t you?” I smiled at him and turned back to the phone. I didn’t want to do it but I had to make sure that it was going no further, my life was complicated enough and it didn’t need hurt in there as an ingredient as well.
I picked up and dialled without any real idea what I was going to say, only that I couldn’t back down. I heard it ringing at the other end and then..
“Hello,” Paul’s voice at the other end.
“Er hi, it’s me.” I started hestitantly.
“Oh, right,” came back in a similar fashion.
“Paul, I’m ringing you because I know I couldn’t do this face to face because I’m a coward. I’m really sorry things are going like this and I’m really sorry if I have led you on and made you think things that I really didn’t want to happen. Oh, I’m rambling aren’t I?” I was trying to get it all out before I lost my nerve.
“A bit. What’s going on Jenny, are you dumping me?”
“Oh Paul it’s not like that, really it’s not. I can’t lead you on any further is all, I have to move to Australia in the New Year and I don’t want to fall for you any more than I already have.” Tears started to sting the back of my eyes.
“Can’t we be together until you go then?” He asked hopefully. “I do understand what you’re trying to do and I really hoped it wasn’t really going to happen as I knew it might.” I could hear his emotions were only just under control as well.
“I was really falling for you and I didn’t want to take it any further. I still daren’t Paul, I really do like you and it’s no use, we’re not going to be able to be together, so it’s better we stop now, before we hurt too much.” I started to sob quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear.
“Don’t cry Jen, please, it hurts me so much to hear you like this.” I could hear his voice breaking as well.
“Goodbye Paul, I’m really really sorry,” I managed to squeeze between the sobs. I put the phone down - my shoulders, held rigid before, slumped and I allowed myself a quiet cry.
Slowly I gathered my wits and stumbled off to bed, knowing that I’d be poor company if I went and watched TV with mum and dad.
“Night mum, dad, I’m going to see if I can get some beauty sleep — I think at this point I really need it.” I tried to sound cheerful — it sounded like I was Captain Oates about to go outside for the last time.
“Night darling,” Mum called from the lounge, “Don’t forget your homework.”
I suddenly realised that I hadn’t done any. Damn, now I wasn’t going to be able to slip into the arms of Morpheus for two hours.
Wendy was waiting as usual at the bus stop in the morning.
“No traumas this morning then?” One eyebrow was raised quizzically.
“I finished it all last night,” I looked quickly away not confident I wouldn’t burst into tears yet again. “I phoned him and told him it was all off.” I added when I felt strong enough.
Wendy whistled through her teeth, “That must have been awful, for both of you, he was really besotted with you, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, we both nearly caved in last night, but I think sense prevailed.
Did you finish that translation last night — it was demonic.” I changed the subject, knowing my heart wouldn’t take too much more.
That day wasn’t as bad as the one previous, but it was bad enough. The teachers all put it down to me having my time of the month so were quite nice to me.
I showed Wendy and Carol the house brochure at lunch time and several others peeked over my shoulder and all were impressed and a bit jealous. They weren’t sure they would want to live in a red desert though even if the house was nice. When I showed them the estate with the green trees and park like surrounds, they were really jealous. It cheered me up a bit. (What a bitch I am!)
…………………………..
“The Doctor will see you now.” The secretary looked over her glasses at me. She was new and probably wondered why I was seeing a shrink at my age. For, one thing I knew, I did not look like someone going through transition.
“Come in Jenny, have a seat,” she was over sitting on the green leather lounge chair checking her notes as I came in. As I settled, she closed her notes and put them on the coffee table in front of her. “Those are from the previous patient, I haven’t got your notes out, I don’t think we need them. I’ll just make a note that you attended.”
“Does that mean you’ve shrunk me down to size at last?” I smiled at her, truly thankful this was my last real interview.
“You look a bit sad Jenny, what’s the problem?” She was pretty good, I had tried to be upbeat when I came in.
“You’re really very good at this aren’t you? I was trying to cover it up.”
“No last minute second thoughts?”
“Nah, I just broke up with my boyfriend last night and I’m bouncing along the bottom with the hook still in my guts like a fishing lure.” I’ve no idea where that came from but it fitted quite well.
“Well these things are seldom terminal, and we really need to discuss next month’s little duel with the scalpel.” She looked to see what reaction I would have to the word scalpel.- None.
“I’m looking forward to getting to the end of this particular problem, it’s not easy being at a girls’ school and sporting a boy’s operating equipment.”
“I hope you haven’t been sporting it!” She looked at me with feigned shock.
“No, of course not but it stops me being quite as natural as I might like. Particularly with boyfriends. It’s been really nice in some ways and really horrible in others.”
Imagine going to the movies knowing there’s going to be a bit of hanky panky and knowing there’s no way you’re going to let him go any further than.. well you get my drift.” I blushed a bit, but Julie grinned and seemed to understand the dilemma.
“Well, you seem to have survived. Would it have been so awful if he’d found out?”
“Considering I’d sat next to him for 2 years in primary school yes I think it may have been a case of him letting the dragon off and slaying the virgin.”
“Ah yes, I see. Not the best way to find out.
If you’d not been going to Switzerland, do you think you’d have been able to continue and hope he didn’t find out?”
“To be honest, because the scenario was always with me exiting stage left, I never gave it a moment’s thought. However I didn’t think I’d start to fall in love so fast either.” I thought about the word before I uttered it but it still took me by surprise.
“Do you think you were falling in love then?” Julie latched onto the word quite quickly.
“I think so. My world was full of only him, whether at school at home, in bed or asleep, dreaming. I thrilled at his voice on the phone, my nerves tingled when he held my hand. I swam in his eyes. To be honest I clichéd myself to death every minute with him.” I started to look wistful and sad again
“I think you may well be right, and now is not the time to be dwelling on it — we have more important matters to discuss. Like How’s your school work holding up and have you made any new friends?
“Absolutely. I’m a pretty confident and cute girl most of the time — I only fall apart when I’m forced to choose between a gorgeous guy and a flight to the other side of the world to live in a mansion and attend a new school. No not a new school, a BRAND NEW school.” I grabbed the brochure that I’d brought to show Wendy and Carol and passed it over to Julie. “That’s our new home.”
“Impressive, Daddy must be very good at his job to get that built for him.”
“Daddy was saying that it doesn’t take as long to build over there, they reckon a house like that of 5000 square feet would only take four months to build. Something to do with the techniques involved.” I was spouting second hand knowledge but it sounded good.
“Right Jenny, we seem to have covered how you’re doing, how your future is sounding, how you feel about your op — how your schoolwork is going and how your friends are helping.” She smiled at my fish face.
“Well, I have to admit to engineering the conversation just a little bit.”
“Tell May, my new secretary that I’d like to see you on the 18th December — she consulted her diary. That’s not good; make it the 17th that’s a Friday. Your op is on the Monday after that — going to be a big weekend and Christmas isn’t it?”
“Do all your secretaries have months of the year as names?” I giggled as I rose and grabbed my school bag. My watch said 20 to 6.
“Well I haven’t met too many girls called November, so I’m not sure that I’ll try too hard to use it as a criterion.” Julie got the last word as usual. She ushered me out and Mum was waiting in the vestibule — “Hi Beth, we’re all done, see you next month with missy here if you can make it, I’d like to see how you’re all holding up then. If that’s OK?”
“No, that sounds fine, I think we’ll all be a bit nervous by then and I might bring Mike in as well.” Mum smiled at Julie and led me out to the car.
“Oops, I didn’t make the appointment for next month.” I ran back in and Julie looked at me with a question mark over her head. ‘Am I learning a new language here?’ I thought. “Forgot to make the 17th appointment next month. Could you put me down May?”
Julie looked at me and said “Make your mind up — December or May?” and grinned at me again.
I shook my head ruefully and returned to the car.
Jennifer Christine
The continuing story of Jenny Holland
Part 13
The fact I was hurting numbed me slightly to the impending procedure.
Until I received in the post a large envelope marked with the clinic’s logo.
It was waiting for me when I got home the day after my appointment with Julie.
I’d just left Wendy with a jovial. “See ya”, and turned my key in the door.
“Hi Jenny” mum called out. “There’s a letter for you in here.” I could tell from the tone of her voice that it wasn’t a normal letter; something in the tension in her voice relayed the importance of me seeing it straight away.
I felt my heartbeat rise, I have no idea why, but my psyche must have as I’d probably been in denial a bit over the last weeks as my future got a bit closer each day.
I dropped my bag by the stairs and walked almost warily into the kitchen peering round the door like a cat before entering. The buff envelope was on the kitchen counter. I could see the colourful Swiss Stamp on it from the door.
I looked over at mum — she was wearing one of those smiles that say, “You know what this is and I know you’re going to be bouncing off the walls or crying in a minute and I feel for you.”
“Well I guess you’d better open it, I’ll put the kettle on,” she volunteered with a sort of merry macabre hint in her voice.
I picked it up and walked to the kitchen table and sat down. Yes, there on the back next to the seal was the Clinic Logo. It was my final notice. My future had caught up to me.
I could feel a sort of prickly sensation as I pulled the tab and the contents spilled onto the table.
The cover letter was uppermost.
Dear Jennifer Holland
Please read the following carefully………….. and contact us if you have any questions.
I read through it quickly.
Several stapled bundles were included.
“What you need to take with you.”
“How to get from the Airport to the Clinic”
“Preparations before you leave home.”
“What to do if you can’t proceed with the operation.”
“Outcomes”
“Post op”
It totalled a pile of about 20 sheets.
There was also a brochure on the nursing home I’d be in after the op. It looked like a resort a bit back from Lake Leman on which Geneva sits.
Looking at the blurb it seemed I’d be in Hospital for three days then transferred to the Nursing Home. That is until the doc said I could go.
Four weeks from now I’d be in there. With it all behind me ( I hope).I pondered the way I’d be feeling as mum plonked the tea down.
“Come on then — spill.” She urged gently.
I looked at her and pushed the major part of the stuff over to her to scan. I was looking at the folder marked. “Preparations before you leave home.”
There was whole blurb about making sure you were as fit as possible and walking a mile or two in the weeks leading up to the op — stopping HRT — losing excess fat.
Basically all those things that speed up recovery.
Until it got down to a section about the day before you front up for surgery.
Like getting some stuff called Fleet and drinking it the night before.
“What’s fleet mum?” I asked — wondering if it was a dietary supplement.
Mum looked at me and had a sort of squinty grin on her face.
“What?” I frowned at her silly grin.
“Oh you’re going to love that.” She offered a little tit-bit.
“Come on, out with it.” I urged drumming my fingers on the table top then taking a sip of tea, to calm my rising state of nerves.
“Ah well, before I had you and Nigel, and I mean right before, when I was going into labour, I had to clean myself out in case of whatever — well in case the pressure made me,” she hesitated, “Well incontinent, bowel wise I suppose.”
I coloured up, “you mean it flushes out my bowels?” I wasn’t really concerned, but it was like I was going to have a baby or something, I was identifying with mum.
“Oh yes, it certainly does that.” She grinned and squeezed my arm with a little supportive gesture. “It’s not bad, but it is a little undignified. You end up sitting on the toilet for about 30 minutes as it shoots through you.”
She peered over my shoulder, yes; you don’t get to eat anything after that, so it’ll be last thing at night on Sunday. I suppose you’d better have your last proper meal on Sunday lunch.”
It was getting a bit adjacent. I sucked up a huge breath, I didn’t realise I’d been holding it. I was sweating a bit.
“Are you ok pet?” Mum put her hand on my forehead and then round my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. “Don’t worry darling, you’ll be fine. It just seems a bit hurdle at the moment and a sort of apex point in your life. I know how you feel — I think.
Knowing you’re going to be drinking Fleet is like an inclusive ceremony for women!”
I was just staring into space a bit — I think the adrenalin had kicked in and given me an endorphin high or something.
“Yeah I’m okay–it’s suddenly here isn’t it? And I’ve been sort of putting off thinking about it–” I looked back at the paperwork. “What’s an inflatable Doughnut?”
Mum agve a little giggle. “Something you sit on when you’re a bit sore down there.” She pointed at my nether regions. “You’re going to need it on the plane home I’d say.”
“Oh God, this really is going to be undignified isn’t it?” I grinned and blushed again.
“I’ve got to get some maxi-pads as well and loose panties. M-u-u-u-m…. H-E-L-P. This is like all those nightmares about being naked in front of the school rolled into one.”
Mum looked at me with a sort of sympathetic grimace. “You’re going to be walking like John Wayne after three days in the saddle as well. So I think you’d better resign yourself to being totally out of service and just be grateful you’re in Switzerland where no one knows you.”
“Can I have a sugar sack to put over my head like John Merrick?”
“Who?”
“Elephant Man. That was his name.”
Mum shook her head and laughed. “By New Year it’ll all be behind you and you’ll wonder what the fuss was about. Off you go and get changed, I’ll put these away for you and I’ll sort out a little grip bag and start getting this stuff together. Then you won’t have to worry your pretty little head over it.” She patted my bum towards the stairs and went back to the stove to stir whatever was making that lovely smell.
I was still upstairs when Dad came in. I was just about to head down when I heard him laughing uproariously. No doubt it was about the Fleet! And ALL those other things. Sheez what price being a girl.
When I did get downstairs, I slipped quietly into the kitchen and dad looked round and immediately came over and gave me a hug.
I love my Dad, I do!
“Well princess, it’s all about to happen isn’t it?”
“Well I for one will enjoy a nice Christmas Holiday in Switzerland. Even if I have to spend a bit of it nursing my beautiful daughter.” He squeezed my shoulder like mum had a few minutes previously, then helped himself to a whisky into which he dropped a solitary piece of ice. I grimaced and he chuckled. “I’m looking forward to some duty free as well! This stuff is so weak that one piece of ice and the flavour is all gone. Mmmm Kirsch and Schnapps… yummy.” He was dreaming as he stirred his drink with his finger then sucked off the precious liquid with relish.
Later on I sat on my bed and read the final two clipped together sets of sheets.
Outcomes.
It appeared that I could be anywhere from completely numb to being over sensitive to the point that I wouldn’t be able to sit down. But in reality most were somewhere in between and quite normal. I should be able to reach orgasm and maybe even be self lubricating.
I flushed a bit as I really hadn’t spent too much time thinking about my sexuality or the act itself. Though it did make me feel very sad that Paul wasn’t likely to be anywhere in the picture. It’d be fun finding out…. I flushed again. This is all a bit more than I’m prepared for at the moment.
Then I read about the dilators….. and flushed enough to set off a fire detector.
I determined I’d talk with Wendy about this — I wanted to know if normal girls had to do anything like that — somehow I doubted it and also I had to admit I’d never heard of it.
I hadn’t been the biggest male on the block when it came to wedding tackle and the brochures had mentioned that the more you had, the more vagina you’d end up with.
I hoped I had enough. But then it did say that skin could be ‘borrowed’ from the inside of the thigh, which sounded very uncomfortable. I pictured myself in a Texan hat and a six gun standing next to Big John Wayne — I had to giggle at that point as only the walk would be the same — nothing remotely like John Wayne was living in this house.
Mid you with a name like Marion, who’s to know?
“You’ve got to do WHAT?” Wendy’s eyes were like saucers, “It’s how big?”
I repeated the info from the brochure.” It’s 1 3/8” diameter and 10 inches long.
Is that big?” I asked naively .
“The very thought brings tears to my eyes.” Wendy said then adjusted it slightly. “Though I’m not sure whether it’s joy or envy.” She giggled, and then fell about laughing.
I felt a little short of 1.5 inches high. Barely enough to peer over the dilator in question …
“Does it vibrate?” She smirked and then grabbed her tummy and rolled around the bus shelter unable to control herself. “Can I borrow it sometimes if I’m lonely?” She shook to the roots of her being.
“I wish I hadn’t told you now.” I was a little antsy and annoyed at her lack of fellow feeling. Though I think it was making me less nervous about the whole thing. Girls don’t seem as hung up about their bodies as boys do.
The bus pulled up and she grabbed me round the waist, “Come on girlfriend let’s get to school and you can regale me later with your wonderful Christmas Story.” At which point she shut up about the whole thing and I began to relax — she really was a friend — she wasn’t going to ridicule me in front of the rest of our friends or even those we didn’t know.
“Can I tell Carol?”
“I suppose” I relented.
She giggled — “this is going to be so different!”
Later in the Lunch Hour we sat in a class room as it was throwing it down outside and I passed the brochure over to Carol — I gestured to keep it quiet with a single finger across my lips — she nodded.
Slowly as Wendy and I watched her, her eyes went rounder and rounder and her mouth went ‘O’ Shaped as she sat up straight like she’d been goosed.
She looked at me and then at Wendy with a ‘you have got to be kidding me’ look.
We both nodded and she started to smirk and flush up. Within a few moments she was almost unable to contain her glee and went out of the room — ostensibly for a pee, but we heard her down the passageway squealing — so we followed her out and tracked her by the squeals.
When we reached her, she had tears running down her face — “I have got to get me one of those.” — She pointed at the brochure. “I’d never need a boyfriend again.”
Then we all fell about as she asked, “Does it vibrate?”
By the time we returned to the classroom everyone was worried that there was a nitrous oxide leak somewhere.
Sometimes the silliest things break the tension or tickle the funny bone and this one was just one of those things.
They both clamoured to make me promise to show me the monster when I got it back from Switzerland.
“As long as you don’t want to see it in action.” I said and they both cracked up yet again.
“You look pleased with yourself,” mum said as I entered the kitchen.
“Nothing really.” I replied. Just Wendy and Carol went into hyterics when they heard about the size of the largest dilator.
“Oh I didn’t read that bit yet, how big IS it?” Mum queried.
“About ten inches long and nearly 1 ½ inches wide” I didn’t really want to tell her but I was trying to be nonchalant.
Mum spluttered, “That’ll be nice dear.” She looked at me and I looked at her and slowly the giggles started. We were laughing fit to bust when Dad came in.
We tried to compose ourselves but dad noticed we were nearly hiccupping and our eyes were streaming.
“Well whatever it is, can I hear it?” dad looked askance at me and gave mum a full eyeball.
“No dear, Girl Talk, not for tender ears such as yours.” Mum shook her head and went back to shelling peas. Dad looked back and forth between me and mum and then left to clean the shed. “Women.” I heard as he shut the door to the garden.
After reading through the whole lot of paperwork again, there didn’t seem to be anything that was or ought to be a problem so I started my homework I had to do some trigonometry so I grabbed a rule and some compasses.
I opened my book to a clean sheet . Suddenly I though “how big IS 10” x1.5” and drew two lines ten inches long 1 3/8” apart.
I joined the ends with an ellipse. — I pulled the ruler from the paper and looked at this little drawing. The colour drained from my face and I felt a bit sick.
That is one big dilator. I couldn’t believe this was supposed to go inside me….
How big were guys anyway? I’d never seen a guy with a hard on not a fully grown one anyway. Mine was pretty insignificant but then I never reached a male puberty so I didn’t expect it to be.
Nigel wasn’t around to ask so I was left to imagine and the more I imagined, the more I felt a bit ill.
I went and sought out mum.
“I’m a little worried mum, that dilator thing, is that big? I don’t know what is big and what isn’t and I just took a look at a ruler and I suddenly realise that’s a big piece of …. machinery to try to insert into me. Are guys that big?” I sounded like a six year old…
Mum looked at me and smiled gently. “If you ever see a man that big, I’d suggest you become his agent and push him into porn movies. No pet, they’re not normally that big. I guess 7 inches and 1 ¼ across is pretty much it. — any bigger and it can get a bit uncomfortable unless you’re used to it.
There’s a lot of difference between 1 ¼ and 1 3/8 as well.
I felt a bit of relief, I was wondering what I was letting myself in for and when I thought of the words ‘letting myself in for’ — I almost squeaked.
Maybe it was going to be ok — I thought Wendy and Carol had gone a bit overboard then a dastardly idea struck me.
It was Saturday and I met up with Wendy and Carol to go shopping — well window shopping anyway. I casually mentioned when we were walking through a department store that I’d spoken with mum about the ‘you know what’.
“She said that 10 x 1.5 was about normal for a fully gown man and that up to the age of about 16 or 17 they were a lot smaller. I saw a look of panic on Wendy’s face and a look of horror on Carol’s. Mum said dad is a lot bigger than that.” I kept my face straight, which was a miracle
Carol staggered sideways into a rack of clothing which nearly upturned itself. And Wendy’s face had gone a bit chalky.
“What’s up with you two?” I asked innocently.
“Nuh nuh nothing”, Carol looked really odd. Her face had gone a bit blotchy and she was looking like she’d swallowed her tongue. Wendy wasn’t much better.
“Perhaps that’ll teach you for frightening me the other day.” I sniggered.
They chased me through so many stores, that we had to backtrack to see the new stuff we’d missed.
I did find a long and warm looking felted woollen skirt for when I was in Switzerland outside and unable to wear pants (after the op). Pants wouldn’t look good with the amount of underwear and bandages I was going to be wearing in the nether regions and apparently I’d be quite swollen too — so pants are out.
I thought a dirndl might be quite the thing, but the corset looked a bit constrictive. Plus I’d have to wait til I got onto the continent.
When I got home mum said that Nigel had rung and asked if he could bring his girlfriend for Christmas Dinner as her folks were going to be away. He’d forgotten we were going to be away as well.
“I reckon we need to buy him a wall chart with time lines on it that he can fill in. Like the ones they use for annual holidays in workplaces.” I ventured.
“He’d cover it in footy fixtures and forget what the calendar was for in the first place.” Mum was trying not to sound cynical, but it came out like an indictment of teen men. I could see she wasn’t happy about it but there wasn’t anything I could say.
I showed mum the skirt and she reckoned it was really warm looking — “I thought I’d check it out and wear it to the flicks at the weekend.”I said holding it in front of me. Then I thought about Paul and the colour drained out of my day.
Mum saw my expression. “Someone walk over your grave?”
“I was just thinking about wearing it to the cinema at the weekend and it reminded me of Paul.” My lip was starting to curl a bit so I took a deep breath.
Mum looked at me, “Still getting flashes eh?”
I nodded, looking a bit glum.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t consider going out with him again after we get back? We’ve still got a couple of months before we go to Oz.” Mum looked at me for a reaction.
I didn’t dare commit my voice so I just shook my head and tried not to let the tears squeeze out from my eyes.
“Ok, off you go and get washed up for tea, Dad’ll be home in a minute.” Letting me off the hook.
I sat on my bed as my head went into a spin — should I or shouldn’t I?
I knew the answer; I wanted to — I really wanted to, but I knew that to do so would be the end of it all. It would all end in pain. He would find out and I would be left with nothing but guilt and shame.
I really needed to speak to Julie, but it had nothing to do with the transition side of things.
Suddenly I realised that I shouldn’t really be sad, I had found a really nice guy who really liked me and we’d had a really nice few weeks and that was all it was about — I was only 15 and I wasn’t going to die of old age.
Perhaps I would see him after my op — just so we could part as friends and not hate each other.
I wanted to ring him straight away but knew that would be foolish as it would leave us both where we were before. I’d speak to him tomorrow after school at the coffee shop.
I went down looking almost normal and hugged Daddy as he came through the door. “Hello Daddy, how’re doing?” I smiled up at the man who is being my rock — the only man in my life — at least for a while.
“Hello precious, that’s a nice welcome.” and his arm went round me and clutched me to him as he kissed my forehead and returned my smile.
I’ll survive.
The Way Things Happen
Jennifer Christine
The continuing story of Jennifer Holland
“Okay the luggage allowance is 14 kilos each.
I’ve got the bathroom scales here so when you’ve packed your bag, bring it down and well trim it up for size.. well weight anyway.” Mum harrumphed.
“I don’t think I’ve got 14 kilos of clothes that I can wear in Switzerland, I’ve been collecting summer stuff because we’re going to Oz..”
Every few minutes I’d space out, this is it, the big moment, alles umsteigen, all change! Only 5 days til I can’t spell my name in the snow.
“Well the return might be different, there may be one or two things coming back with us, so leave a bit of room.” Mum got the last word in.
Daddy wobbled his eyes and winked at me. I ducked and flushed and turned my back to hide my bright red face. “Sorry pet, couldn’t resist. You have to admit though it’s a bit new isn’t it?” Daddy was being as nice as pie considering this was costing an arm and a leg (not to mention the penis).
“Well I’m glad it’s nearly here and I can get it over with. The last week or two has been murder and I’m tired of thinking about it. I keep thinking what could go wrong — I hate the doctor for putting that ‘outcomes’ part in the envelope — it was both shocking and kinda scary.” I paused, thinking about the wording of the letter. ‘You may or may not be capable of Orgasm etc etc’. How insensitive can you get?
“Stop worrying, they have to put that in to cover their liability insurance, I’ve spoken with the doctor and he’s NEVER had a bad outcome and apparently he’s done quite a few of these operations.” Dad put on his reassuring hat and continued to try to fold his trousers neatly.
“Why don’t you lay those in the case open and put a pullover on top, then fold the leg of the pants over the pullover? There won’t be a crease in them then.” Dad looked at me, and shook his head, smiling.
“Well you’re certainly done and dusted mentally, you know all the secret women’s business — it’s just the ‘nip and tuck’ now isn’t it?” He did as I suggested “Voila” - he closed the case lid — “just the toilet bag to go in now and that can go in on Saturday afternoon afore we hi-tail it out of here.” He tipped the metaphorical Stetson on his head and grabbed the metaphorical braces and left — stage left.
I grinned and shook my head — “D-a-ad, mum wants to weigh the case, take it with you . He slunk back in ad grabbed the handle and dragged it off the bed. Whereupon the whole contents fell onto the floor — he hadn’t latched the lid.
I looked at his face and he looked at mine, I started to gurgle and whistle as he lowered himself to his knees and whimpered theatrically then thumped his forehead. Ten minutes later he’d repacked it all — this time with the lid latched.
Mine was done too so I followed him down.
We sat quietly at the kitchen table ticking off our lists. Mum had been thorough and organised us all like the sheep we appeared to be. “Thanks Beth,” Daddy kissed mum on the forehead and helped himself to the scotch — what would you like pet?”
Mum and I both answered together, “White wine please.” Of course I only got lemonade but then I knew I would.
“Ok. Last day of school tomorrow, is there anything you need for that?” Mum marked her place on the list with her pencil and looked up at me.
“No, and I could be home by 3, as they want to pack up as soon as possible. But I may go into town so don’t expect me til the shops shut — I haven’t finished my crimbo shopping yet.” I added, thinking about the few things I had left to get.
I was just thinking it would be nice for Nigel to come over on Saturday to see us off when Daddy said, “Nigel’s coming over on Saturday to drive us to the airport. He’d better not be late it will be packed driving down to Manchester.”
“You’re letting him drive your car? Ooooh that’s risky. Let’s hope it isn’t icy.” I teased dad, knowing Nigel had only had his license a short time. He wasn’t a bad driver though — just not very mechanical. I watched dad go into a trance as he thought about pirouetting down the motorway, then he shook his head and glowered at me sternly.
“Don’t do that minx!” Then he grinned and shook his head one more time to rid himself of the apparition. The ghost of future yet to come…
So started the countdown.
The next morning I bounced out of bed — which was a miracle as I had lain wide awake for ages, it seemed, last night. But when I did drop off I was obviously dead to the world as my batteries felt fully charged and amazingly high voltage.
This was probably caused by the hormone surge due to withdrawal — my breasts were as sore as anything and my nipples were like organ stops nearly continuously — I had to put some tissue in my bra to camouflage the protuberances.
When I thought about it, I had got over all that clothing stuff fairly lightly — it had come naturally and without trauma. I didn’t particularly like pantyhose or tights and I hated stockings. Bras were a necessary nuisance and heels were not even in my wardrobe unless you counted the blocky heeled school shoes. I didn’t need heels so I wasn’t going to wear them.
I did have some ballet slippers and sandally things but nothing very glamorous — how many 15 year olds had high heels? Carol and Wendy didn’t. Joanne refused to even look at a pair. Though she did have some court shoes — but they were only an inch and a half.
I did have a pair of nice leather boots though and I was wearing them — since my legs would have been like blocks of ice. And no one was going to give me a hard time on the last day of school!
It was due to be a relaxed day as we were just there to hand in stuff and make sure the reports were handed out and the end of term results with them — that was important for me as they would be quite detailed and given to my new school in Brisbane when I got there. We got to look at them as they were handed out in the final class before lunch.
There were always those unfortunates with, ‘could do better’, or, ‘needs to concentrate more’ followed by a C- or a D. You could see who they were, furrows were across their brow or a tear glistened. But there weren’t many.
We were given a class place too — I’d got 3rd in the class of 24 and Wendy had 5th. So we weren’t overly concerned with the comments as they were in the spirit of, ‘Well done, a good term’s work’.
Mine instead of a foolscap sheet was a sheet from each teacher on the syllabus covered and how I’d understood each part — so it was pretty thorough — but boring nonetheless as it came under the usual ‘A’ delineation, ‘Jenny is a good student and will do well’. I was more than happy with my first terms as a girl.
I’m sure my boy’s report wouldn’t have been quite as nice. I remembered myself being less driven and less likely to push myself.
Class was out and everyone had big grins on their faces. Some of the girls were dishing up their makeup whilst waiting for the bus. Little makeup mirrors flashed the sun hither and thither. Everyone was heading into town to celebrate break up and do some shopping. It was quite hectic getting on the bus. A lot more crowded than usual but us four managed to find a seat upstairs and we headed off to town and ‘Grounds’ coffee house.
“Have you got Paul a present?” Carol asked carefully, checking that I didn’t burst into tears or throw myself off the top of the bus.
“Just a little one, it’s a chunky silver bracelet with his name on it, it wasn’t expensive.” I lied — truthfully it had nearly bust me but I wanted to make him remember me — I really didn’t want to let him go and my heart still galloped when I thought of his warmth and his soft lips.. Maybe when we’re settled we can get back together. I knew it was a desperate plea to the fates, but where there’s hope there’s a chance.
Carol read my thoughts, “Yeah sure, whatever you say. I’m really sorry you two won’t be together, you make a great couple.”
I looked at my hands in my lap and bit my lip — tears were never far away and Carol wasn’t being insensitive; well just a little anyway. I sucked it up and looked back up and smiled at her. “Yes it would have been nice, but I won’t even be here over Christmas.”
The girls’ memories flashed back up and they all looked at Jenny with that warmth and love that was a mark of true friendship. As one they all reached out mentally with all their support and love. “Wow what a Christmas present,” was all Wendy said.
When we got off in town it seemed there were hundreds of school children there — mainly because there were hundreds of school children there. We headed to the café and it was so packed that there wasn’t even standing room. So we went round to the arcade and had a mooch in one or two shops and chatted about what we were getting our folks.
I saw a lovely pair of driving gloves that Nigel would love so I got them and a Porsche key fob to impress his girlfriends until they saw he drove a Ford Escort with a dented wing. I would have to wrap that for tomorrow — I intended to get something in Geneva for mum and dad until I realised I wouldn’t be walking far and suddenly I went all hot and cold and had to sit down.
“What’s up,” Wendy leaned over and looked into my eyes which had gone a bit round.
“Oh just pre-op nerves.” I tried to be casual but my face gave it away, I’d gone a bit white..
“Let’s get you home,” Carol tried to make a decision.
“No, no! — I need to get mum and dad a pressy and it’s my last chance really as I’ll be with mum tomorrow and she’ll see what I get her.” I gathered myself up and shot out of the chair I’d plonked in. “Let’s go look in Debenhams.” I took control — I had to otherwise we’d have got nothing done.
I got home at 4pm after all as I didn’t get to have a coffee — every café was stuffed to the gills with schoolies. I didn’t see Paul which was just as well really.
I retired to my room and slipped the presents for mum and dad in my case and left Nigel’s out — I’d wrap it later.
When I got downstairs there was a present on the table and the name on it was mine — I recognised Paul’s handwriting. I smiled and held it up to my ear and rattled it. It rattled like a bracelet! There WAS a God.
The smile was still on my face after dinner. I helped with the washing up as I didn’t have school tomorrow — but I did have an appointment with Julie.
I retired early that night to get as much sleep as I possibly could — there was a lot to get in in the next few days and it seemed my life was to be curtailed for a few weeks after. Like planning for the flu!
I wrapped mum and dad’s present before I turned in. I hope dad still wore shirts that needed cufflinks — I hadn’t checked — blimey do they wear long sleeve shirts in Oz?
No matter, it’s the thought that counts and dad’s the boss so he’ll be wearing Boss type shirts; smart as ninepence! Mum’s bound to like the Chanel #5, I don’t know a woman who doesn’t — the cost was a bit rich, but that’s ok! I may even borrow a little now and then…
Sleep…
“Jenny, better get your bottom out of that bed or I’ll be coming with a cattle prod.
EEK — 3 days to go.
I was out before my eyes were open — I felt like I was on speed — The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost’s words sprang to my head.
It wasn’t so much the forest I was thinking about but promises to keep.
Appointments and seeing the girls before I went to meet my maker — almost literally (I hoped)
The end was so close I could smell it and suddenly — I was calm.
It didn’t matter, it really was out of my control — I go to my fate with a steady hand.
There were no tumbrels now, nor a green mile. I was going to be whole not diminished — I was being unbroken.
I walked into the kitchen with my chest out and my head clear. “Morning Mummy, can I have toast this morning, it feels a bit cold to be eating corn flakes and porridge is just so gluggy..”
Mum peered over at me through a hank of hair that had come loose over her eyes, “Someone’s feeling chipper this morning.”
“I just realised as I came down stairs, that no matter what happens now, I’m going to be in Geneva on Sunday and under the knife on Monday. Sure as eggs is eggs, to quote someone — probably Mark Twain.” I added noconsequentially.
“There’s a lot of things to do before then, so don’t relax to much missy. First off Julie.
You’ve twenty minutes before you leave here so toast is probably a good idea.” She popped a couple of slices into the toaster. “Jam or Marmalade?”
“Marmalade please mummy.” I smiled dreamily — nothing can phase me now.
“Come on Jenny snap out of it, you’re acting like you’ve been hit with a wet kipper.”
“Oh, sorry mum, I think I’m on an endorphin high or something — caused by the adrenalin rush of possible immediate demise.”
“Calm before the storm eh?” Mum passed my chair and gave my shoulder a squeeze. She leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Your toast is burning.”
Eek! I roused and had my brekkers. A nice cup of coffee and I was ready to have a chat with anyone who cared to pass the time of day — But Julie was first.
“Come right in Jenny, oh and you too please Beth” Julie called through the open door as we entered the clinic.
“I saw you drive up,” she offered in explanation of her clairvoyance. “Is mike coming in?”
“I don’t think so, he’s got a lot to tidy up before he knocks off and he’s going to be out of circulation until the new Year so he’s making sure it’s all done properly. He’s happy about things as they are and can’t see any problems from his point of view.” Mum explained briefly.
“Right Zero minus 3 eh?”
Mum and I nodded.
Any?
Mum and I shook our heads.
Coffee?
“No thanks I just finished one thanks.” I replied; mum said “ Yes please, I’d love one.”
“So you feel the future bearing down on you yet?” Julie looked at me for a reaction.
“On Wednesday I’d have said yes and I’m scared. Now I’m as calm as calm can be and I’m a bit surprised. Like I’ve reached the point of no return and the future is inevitable.”
Julie nodded, “It’s a common symptom, you’re mentally prepared and committed, there’s no panic. A bit like you’re about to step out on stage and you know all the words and have had plenty of practise.” She smiled and watched me for a few seconds.
I’ve got to say that the person sitting here in front of me is really something to behold, quiet, assured, confident…. You’re looking good too Jenny.” She snorted when I looked puzzled. “Sorry, I think you were preening so I just prodded you conscience.”
“I was, and you’re quite right — I shouldn’t be so smug.” I coloured up a bit. I really was a bit too big for my boots this morning.
“I think you should be a little careful Jenny, the high you’re on at the moment will be reflected in a low in a few days time. It’s called post-op blues and it can be quite devastating. I’m not trying to ruin your day; I’m just giving you a little insight so if you see it coming you know what it is. Ok?”
Julie was concerned and except that I trusted her so much, I would have almost been tempted to pooh pooh her and that might have been tragic.
“Thanks Julie, I’m really sorry if I’m full of it, I can’t seem to help it.” I started to feel like someone had pulled the plug out and the bath full of lovely warm water was disappearing down the hole. I reached out to mum’s hand for comfort.
“Now that’s more like it.” Julie smiled as the coffee arrived. “You’ve just grasped the significance of the moment.”
We chatted on a bit and I felt a little lonely, like only I knew how it felt to be lined up in someone’s sights — even if it was only a surgeon’s. Mum’s hand was warm and comfortable, I’m very glad it was there today.
Julie went over the things that I’d be feeling for the next few days — pain — misery — frustration — fear — euphoria and depression. She explained why I would feel them and how I was to try to overcome them and allow myself to ride evenly over the trauma my body was about to undergo.
I hadn’t really thought about it and it opened my eyes a bit. I didn’t like pain and I wasn’t keen on depression. Euphoria was more than I wanted to feel and fear was something I wasn’t really familiar with.
We went over them one by one and Julie showed mum how they might manifest and how to keep me in touch with my reality.
It was a different interview style, but at the end of it I felt pretty thankful Julie was my shrink.
“Well happy Christmas to the Holland family and especially to you Jenny, I hope it is all you hoped it would be.” She gave me a hug then mum we said our farewells and we exited into the street feeling a little subdued — I for one had been firmly put in my place and told in no uncertain terms what was about to happen. It didn’t scare me any more and I wasn’t euphoric. I was a little anxious and a little scared and that is how it should be. Only a fool throws caution to the wind.
“Let’s go get a coffee and a piece of cake at the Lyons Tea House.” Mum was right on the money — a sugar hit would make me feel less abnormal!
This is a short fill in chapter in preparation for the event. It is built on the feelings I had when I was at this point — the classic short film “Incident at Owl Creek” has a similar feel. A sort of wakening dream quality — where you’re hurling toward the point you’ve been waiting for all your life and yet it doesn’t seem real.
“Right, Jenny — Beth, let’s sit down and see if we have everything we need.” Dad was into final mustering of the clan and checking ground zero was the function.
“Have you got your lists?” He said shaking his to show he was thus encumbered.
I shook mine at him like a shaman shakes a bag of bones and mum just looked through her eyebrows at him.
“Ok ok, just checking…. Now have you ticked off the items,” he looked at me over the top of his reading glasses like a latter day Mr Pickles.
“Look dad, this is the most important weekend of my life, do you really think I’m going to purposefully mess this up? I have a vested interest in not forgetting anything. Besides, I only have my clothes to pack, mummy said she was going to make sure all my ‘necessaries’ were going to be in that green bag over there,” I pointed to a bulging bag with wheels which had a sticker on the side with 24 lbs written on it in crayon — well it was a blunt pencil by the looks, but I was reminded of ‘Eric the half a bee’ halibut license skit from Monty Python. It was as relevant —we weren’t going to Kamchatka — just to the most central point of the richest nations in Europe where anything was available almost anytime.
Dad sighed and relented, “Ok does anyone have anything missing that they think they’re going to need over the next two weeks?”
We shook our heads.
“Bags all packed?”
We nodded our heads.
“Clothes for the journey laid out?”
We nodded our heads.
I smirked, “Ok daddy, I haven’t seen you nod to any of the above so are your things all laid out too?”
“No they’re not, they’re in my drawer and I have checked them off.” He replied smugly.
“Passports?” I asked.
Daddy pointed to the table — “Tickets are there in the envelopes too.”
“Chequebook?”
He patted his pocket.
“Are you wearing those tomorrow then?”
“No, I’m wearing my jeans, they’re more comfy.”
“I’d suggest putting the chequebook on the table with your passport then.” I took a breath, “Car keys?” I looked Daddy in the eye.
He sighed, got up and put his car keys and chequebook on the table. “Satisfied missy?” His chagrin was measureable. “Who’s organising who here anyway?” He queried frowning.
“We the committee, have taken it upon ourselves to check that all is properly carried out in an open and forthright manner so that all of us may be satisfied that the job has been worthily and well done.” I pulled at my imaginary braces and frowned at the questioner. “Like I said Daddy, I have a vested interest in making sure you get it right the first time.”
Dad smiled and sat down, “Thank goodness someone is old enough to start taking some responsibility. Meeting is adjourned.” He sprang up and uttered mum’s magic words, “Gin and tonic dear?”
Soon after that I was lying awake in bed remembering saying bye to Carol and Joanne and how they’d shed a tear and wished me luck. I promised to ring them after the op which was on Christmas Eve. I said not to worry if they didn’t hear as the connection might be hard to get on that day. They made me promise to try — so I had.
I put it on my list for mum and dad to do after I was back in the ward or wherever, I didn’t think I’d be up to much after the op. ( I didn’t know how right I would be!).
Now I’m lying here still awake two hours later. I got up and went to look for a cup of chocolate or something — mum and dad had retired but there was a light under their door. I wasn’t game to knock just in case, so I went and made myself a cuppa.
It was a good idea — I fell asleep soon after I drank it.
It was still dark when I came too but it was getting light — there was no point in trying to sleep in, my mind was twirling like a parasol. Small noises downstairs said that someone was already up — so it was time I fronted up.
I staggered through to the bathroom and relieved myself as the water warmed in the shower. I slipped of my robe and jammies and slipped into the warm stream of water.
I was soaping myself up when I realised that in one or two showers, there’d be less to dry! I looked down at the little vestiges that were left. “Goodbye little boy bits, I’m sorry that you weren’t allowed to get up to much.” I felt a tear rise but I shook it off, I wasn’t really doing anything more than feeling sorry for myself and that is a losing game every time. I finished up and dressed ready for the trip — loose jeans over thick tights and three layers up top! It’s cold in Switzerland and Jeans aren’t actually that warm unless you have layers under them.
As I descended the stairs, a warm waft of bacon aroma tickled my nostrils and I did the proverbial sniffing my way into the kitchen — “Yum, that smells so great first thing in the morning.”
“Good morning Pat, sleep well?” Mum smiled over at me as she dropped two slices into the toaster.
“Well, only after I came down and made myself some cocoa.” I said as I wrapped my arms round her waist in a morning hug — she was still facing the stove so it was just a warm greeting. I looked over her shoulder to see if she was doing tomatoes and mushrooms — a real treat… She was.
“Oh even more yum — ‘matoes and mushies, I’ll set the table — oh goddess of breakfast for weary travellers.”
“You haven’t been anywhere yet.” She replied laughing.
“I journeyed far from the Land of Nod to partake of this feast, I’ll have you know. I suffered hot rain and many encumbrances to be thus present.”
“You mean you had a shower and came downstairs.” She grinned and shook her head.
“One egg or two?”
“Definitely two, if it please your cookship.” I popped the lid off the teapot to check if it was steeped enough.
Dad took this opportunity to make his presence and we soon sat down to a wonderful English Breakfast.
“One more breakfast to go, kiddo, how’re ye feeling?” Dad smiled at me as he thrust some egg soaked bacon towards his face.
“Tentatively optimistic about sums it up. I can’t see anything that might upset the applecart.” I sliced off some toast and pied it with fried tomato. “As long as Nigel makes it on time, there’s no reason we should have the slightest worry..”
“Oh God, don’t say things like that, I’d better go and ring him to check he’s up and about.” Mum pulled her napkin off her lap and dried her mouth, ready to make the call.
“For God’s sake woman — he has time to WALK here. He’s not due for three hours and he only lives 25 minutes away.” Dad reached out and stopped mum from rising by applying pressure to her shoulder.
“You’re quite right,” she said, “I’m just wound up I suppose.” She resumed eating.
“I’ll wash up mum, you go and have a nice relaxing bath and get ready.” I offered, hoping it would get her mind off the day. It seemed silly really; it should be me suffering from the dropsies, not her. But mums are made to worry aren’t they?
Dad went out and checked the weather. It was 11 degrees and just a bit damp, mostly from dew. The sky was clearing and it would be a fantastic day to fly anywhere. I was really looking forward to seeing the Alps in this weather. I hope it is as clear there as it is here.
I could hear dad talking to someone and when he came in, Nigel was behind him. He’d woken early and decided to get moving. He looked over at me and the warmth in his eyes was just picturebook. He walked over and gave me a huge hug. “How’re doin’ baby girl?” He snuggled into my warm neck and gave me a really big squeeze.
“You smell like warm biscuits, and lavender soap.” He held me out at arms length and looked at me, “And you look awesome.”
Mum called down, surprise evident in her voice, “Is that Nigel?”
“Yes.” We all answered together, laughing.
“Thank you for relieving your mum of the worry of waiting for you.” She sang out. “I’ll see you after my bath.”
We wandered through and I made some toast and coffee for him while he regaled us with his exploits and sexual conquests from the last three months. It didn’t take long.
In fact the kettle had only just boiled when he was finished!
It seems the Uni was plagued by a rash of Ugly and most of the girls had caught it. Together with the work load it was hard to find time to drink enough beer to make at least one of them seem pretty enough to date. I smacked him round the ear to chastise him for his Chauvinistic attitude.
“Well I came home to find my ex-brother is prettier than any of the girls at uni. A sorry state indeed.” I forgave him for his indiscretion as it was, after all, a compliment.
Soon, Nigel had lugged all the bags out to the car and packed them neatly in the boot. Mum appeared looking refreshed and made up for the day. She fussed over Nige for a bit then settled to read the paper for a while.
Suddenly it was time to go. This is it. Zero Hour. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
Dad locked the door. Rusty had already gone over to the neighbour’s and was happy to do so considering the huge bone that always went with the transfer.
“Mount up, guys and gals.” Dad tried to be jovial — he’d just seen the sick look on my face. “Boys in the front, girls in back.”
It passed in a dream, the drive, the airport, checking in, they barely looked at my passport — I hadn’t even considered it might be odd.
The plane hurtled down the runway and leapt into the air like a dog chasing a cat up a tree. I didn’t have time to be nervous; everything was passing in a blur. Mum felt my brow at some point — “you ok honey?” from the stewardess.
I looked out over the Alps — 15 minutes out from Geneva Airport — still not taking much in but still able to marvel at the scene. The Alps. My Goodness, they were so beautiful; all bathed in icing sugar and brilliant in the sun.
Then we were down and undoing our seat belts.
Then next time I got on a plane, I would be fully female. Wow. In a week!
Dad took up the front and mum the rear, guiding me stumbling towards the door. I couldn’t shake this feeling of distance — dream like — unreal.
“Come on girl, frame yourself.” Mum chivvied me up the aisle. “You’re like a fart in a trance.”
As I stepped onto the tarmac, the chilled wind whistled round me and I started to come round. By the time we were in the baggage area, I had returned from my space journey. How weird is that?
“Welcome back,” My mum had noticed my eyes unglazing.
“Um, yeah, right. I was away with the fairies. Like there was no control. No idea why.” I shrugged off the moment that had taken two hours and we gathered our luggage onto a trolley and made for Douanne (customs).
The hotel was gorgeous sat back from the Lake but with a view. It was only a two minute walk from the Clinic so we’d be able to walk it on Monday morning no problem if there wasn’t a taxi available. That would be gallows sort of walk, I pondered. Then thought the opposite — more like a Gateway to the next part of my life.
It was getting late by now and the lift sped us down for a lovely meal. The last big meal I would have for a few days.
I had a wonderful Italian meal with a turkey schnitzel — how festive season is that?!
Followed by tiramisu — which I thought was Japanese until I tasted the coffee liqueur!
I even had a cup of expresso coffee in a tiny cup — it was wonderfully bitter and sweet at the same time.
I retired early — trying to get my beauty sleep — tomorrow was going to be a doozy.
I was sharing a room with mum and dad — it was a family room with two large doubles in it. They thought it would be a good idea as I would be in the hospital for most of the stay and if I was here, they could keep an eye on me too.
I took a while to get to sleep — I guess the coffee and the environment and the emotional state of play had a little to do with that.
Mum and dad went downstairs for a while after I was settled, I didn’t hear them return so I must have dropped off.
Tomorrow…..
Zero — minus 1.
Laying there in the morning light listening to mum and dad gently sleeping I pondered my immediate future.
After today, I’d no longer be left with a foot in both camps. Or is that 6 inches in the middle?
I reckon myself to be reasonably nice looking with a figure that was beginning to mature in a proper way. I was above average in mental ability, probably good enough to earn me a degree in all but the most dedicated of areas. I had a loving, supportive family. I was about to move to Australia and begin a new life as myself.
In 24 hours I’d be asleep while a surgeon reformed my nether regions into something more fitting. Turning my ‘outie’ into an ‘innie’ — I smiled at the terminology. They call it vaginoplasty, which sounds vaguely squirmy.
My heart beat a little faster when I thought about the end of today as all things were drawing to a point.
I had to see the doctor for a brief visit at 2pm for a quick appraisal.
If he thought it wise or whatever, I’d be admitted to the clinic tonight and be operated on at 7.30am. Or if all was ok or there was no other concerns, I’d be admitted in the morning. I’m not sure which I preferred. It wasn’t going to be fun lying here tonight knowing that dawn and the knife were awaiting me.
I decided to ask if I could be admitted tonight, so I’d already be there. I wonder if mum and dad would be upset. I’d wait til I’d seen the doctor I determined — I’m not convinced being in hospital overnight would be free…I don’t want this to coast any more than necessary.
I heard dad cough and scratch his head as he came out of his sleep. Mum turned over and put on the light.
“Morning blossom.” She was facing toward my side of the room so she could see me with my arms behind my head — obviously awake.
“Morning Mummy, morning Daddy.” I looked over at them as they sat up and stretched.
“How are you feeling this morning, getting nervous?” Daddy moved to get up then realised he couldn’t get out of bed.
I grinned and pretended to snuggle back down and turn slightly away. “It’s a bit scary, but I’m feeling resolved.” Dad managed to find his robe and covered up the obvious signs of a morning erection, and headed to the bathroom. I tried not to giggle.
(Honest)
As soon as mum heard him flush the loo she popped out of bed and grabbed some underwear, a pair of slacks and a jumper and headed for the bathroom too, leaving me to continue to ponder my day.
They obviously had a routine as I heard the shower start, the toilet flush again and the shower door open and close — like it was a batch plant. Dad came out still wearing his robe but was able to get dressed easily by turning his back and using the robe as cover. I often wondered about sharing a room and now I knew how it worked!
As soon as the shower stopped, I started to gather my things — knowing the time it took for mum to dress and vacate the bathroom — I changed places with her like clockwork and within minutes we were heading down for breakfast.
In the shower I had looked down as I washed my bits for the last time — well nearly — I would be shaving myself later and it would look different then. I was not sad to think it was not going to be there tomorrow. Well actually it was, but not in this formation.
“Do you want a walk down to the lake, or would you rather sit around and read?”
Mummy asked as we left the dining room after a substantial breakfast ( Well actually I ate very circumspectly — I had sausages, (but not bacon) tomatoes and scrambled egg with toast. Easily digested food!)
“I think a walk would be good, I’d rather be active. Have you got your camera?”
“We’ll have to go back to the room anyway, it’s only 6 degrees outside even if it is sunny and bright.” Mum replied. We were dressed warmly, but not for 6 degrees!!Brrr.
Presently we were walking along the lake shore and enjoying the sun on our faces.
“How are you coping sweetheart?” Daddy walked beside me with his arm round my shoulder. I leaned into him a little. I heard a snap from the camera.
“I’m ok Daddy, it’s pretty scary, but it’s more like a step then a leap, I’m not really worried but a little cautious about my expectations. Even if this doesn’t work out 100% it’s still going to be better than now. I hate being caught between a rock and a hard place.” I tried to put into words my inner state. I’m sure the doctor would ask me later and I wanted a formed statement I could use without ‘umming’ and ‘erring’.
“That’s a mature attitude: I think you’re very brave, I know I couldn’t do what you’re doing.” I looked up at him as he winced, I started to giggle.
“Well you’re not a girl, so you don’t expect to lose those bits. I’m not courageous; I’m just correcting something so I can get on with my life without worrying about my body being all wrong.” I smiled at him as the scenario of losing his bits played out — it was a minute or two before he got over it. A penis seems very important if you‘re a guy, I guess. Mum wandered along enjoying the Sunshine and clear air. She looked happy and relaxed. Occasionally she’d stop and take a snap of the lake or us.
There were a couple of small boats out on the lake and I was reminded of my summer, the beginning of my life.
Too soon I was sitting with the parental units either side of me in the Waiting room of the clinic.
Mum had filled in the form for me and I was staring into space. “Herre Doktor will sie sehen jetzt.” The nurse ushered us into the doctor’s office.
He came round the desk and met us halfway.
“Good Morning, I’m Doktor Kurt Drescher, I’ll be leading the operation tomorrow.” He sounded very efficient and direct — professional.
“Good morning Doctor, I’m Mike Holland and this is Beth, my wife, and our daughter, your patient, Jennifer.” Dad offered his hand and The doctor grasped it as the two men eyeballed each other for a second. It was like Daddy had said, ‘I’m trusting you with my daughter’s life’ and he said, ‘I will do all I can to keep her safe.’
Yet no words passed between them, the handshake took a little more time than a casual one.
The Doctor turned to mum and bowed slightly, taking her hand gently, “A pleasure Mrs Holland. And so our patient, Jennifer,” he held out his hand, I smiled and slipped my hand into his, he shook it gently and smiled a kind smile at me, “please take a seat for a moment,” he gestured to the couch and we sat as directed. Actually I perched a bit as I was a little wired (I wonder why).
“It’s a pleasure to meet with you today, even if it is a Sunday.” He added with a smile.
“It’s really just a quick chat to make sure you’re all familiar with the procedure and the likely outcomes. I would also like to examine the site of the operation so I can make some plans for the surgery.” He added quietly.
I could see he was watching me out of the corner of his eye for reaction and levels of anxiety. I continued to smile, and looked him in the eye when he looked at me. He had kind eyes with crinkles at the corner, I’ll bet he had a couple of children himself and loved them dearly. His smile was warm and comforting — I felt safe.
He continued to chat in his very correct English to inform us of the expected duration of the operation and the timing of things over the next few days. Who would be assisting and all of that stuff that really has no bearing on the patient but is good for those around to know. All the patient has to do is get better.
“So now we come to the examination. I think it would be better if mum and dad waited outside, if that is ok with you?” He looked at mum and dad expectantly, they got up and headed towards the door. Dad’s hand rested briefly on my shoulder and gave me a squeeze — I smiled up at him, he looked paler than I felt. I touched his hand as he let go- just to say it was alright. He smiled back.
“If you would like to remove the clothing from your lower half Jenny, that would be fine. Then pop up onto the bed.” He pointed to the stainless steel bench with the 2 inch mattress on it. It was covered in a paper sheet which crinkled as I sat on it. — oddly it didn’t move when I swung my legs up, having complied with his request to remove my clothing.
I felt a little uncomfortable as my dignity level was reduced. It was unavoidable. This guy was going to take me apart in the morning and rebuild me, I couldn’t be nervous now, could I? Actually yes I could and was, but it didn’t matter. Whatever this guy asked me to do, I would do it.
He washed his hands then put on some latex gloves — “Now I’m going to press on your tummy — tell me if there’s any discomfort.” He smiled at me.
I nodded slightly to show I understood.
He progressed slowly down to the groin — pressing and prodding gently — it actually felt quite soothing.
“Now if you could part your legs a little, that’s ok fine.” He felt around the scrotum and inspected the dangly bit to see if there was enough usable skin I suppose.
Then he asked me to turn on my side away from him.
“I promise to be gentle,” he said, “but I need to inspect you internally so I’m going to insert my finger into your rectum, it may be uncomfortable. Try to relax and think of something nice.” I saw him squirt some gel onto his finger.
“A few of my favourite things?” I asked trying to be chipper but feeling very tense.
He chuckled, “Very appropriate. Relax now, try to push back a little”
I winced as his finger slipped past my sphincter, He prodded around inside and I felt him hit my prostate gland. He withdrew his finger and peeled off the glove and threw it straight into the pedal bin — he offered me a box of tissues, “If you’d like to tidy yourself up and get dressed, I’ll make some notes.” He tried to be gentle and caring and I felt less embarrassed than I expected.
He popped his head round the door and called mum and dad back in.
“Right. I’ve examined our young lady here, and she’s in excellent condition and I have no concerns about the operation going ahead tomorrow.” He looked at mum and dad as they let out a breath that they probably didn’t know they were holding.
I’d like to see her in the morning at 7 am. She must eat nothing after 4pm and I would like her to use the purgative treatment before she goes to bed. About an hour before if that is OK? I recommend she arrives at the clinic by 6.45.
Please could you ensure that the operation site is clear of hair when Jenny arrives in the morning? Please do not use any deodorants or sprays. Just good old soap and water. Ok?”
Then he looked at me, “I think you are going to be very happy with the result, there will be no reason anyone will ever think that you were not born female.” He rose from the desk to usher us back into the waiting room.
“Just come to the front desk when you arrive tomorrow, see you then.” He waved us out and we headed back to the hotel for lunch.
This stuff tastes ghastly — like paint stripper — even watered down in a litre of water.
“Do I have to drink the whole litre?” I whined at mum.
“Oh yes little one and another litre of water right after it. Make sure it’s not cold — add some hot — cold will make you feel ill.” Mum was all solicitation and comfort NOT!
“Seems like a waste of the prawn cocktail I had for lunch” It was delicious too, the balance of flavours just excellent. Not that I knew much about balance particularly not today — I was in automatic. I was excited and calm at the same time, like I was doing a solo or something on stage. Stage nerves.
“How long does it take to work?” I turned the bottle round to read the label. Basically “Stay near a toilet, the effects are very quick and almost uncontrollable.”
I felt a rumble in my tummy and all of a sudden I was ripping my pants down and seating myself on the loo. I still had ½ a litre of water to drink so I did — it was pouring out of one end as I was pouring it in the other. It was making me feel quite light headed.
Just when I thought I’d finished, another flush would come through like a pressure hose and it was very uncontrollable — it sprayed everywhere. I tentatively looked between my legs to check it wasn’t blood….
Not only was it not blood, it was as clear as pure mineral water!
I stripped off my clothes as I sat there and when the last rumbling had passed, I hauled my body off the loo and into the shower.
I turned on the water and hoped that I wouldn’t have to repeat this last ½ hour ever again. It’s like very draining to poo 2 litres of water in 30 mins — end to end!!
I rinsed off my body and soaped up, “Don’t forget to shave,” mum shouted from the bedroom.
Oh glory… I had forgotten.
That took ten minutes — thankfully I didn’t nick myself.
By the time that was over I was convinced I was safe and running on empty gut wise.
I did feel very empty, but tired enough not to even worry about going to sleep — I put on my jammies and slunk into bed.
Mum and dad both came over to give me a hug goodnight and I was out like a light.
They told me later they went down for a nightcap, but I didn’t hear anything at all.
The phone ringing at 6.00am was incredibly loud — I think my mind must have switched to overdrive before I woke — I sprang out of bed like a ferret was chasing me.
“Go and have a shower, brush your teeth, rinse your mouth out but don’t swallow any water. If you have any water in your tummy, you’ll be sick after the anaesthetic wears off.”
By the time I got back to the bedroom mum and dad were dressed.
“We’ll get you settled in the clinic and then come back for brekkers and a shower.”
Dad explained, “I think we’ll just concentrate on you for the moment.”
The hotel said there weren’t any taxis available at 6.30 but the porter said he’d run us over to the clinic which was very nice of him.
We pulled up outside and Dad pulled a small grip bag from the boot that he’d repacked from the green one with all my stuff.
The porter shot off and we walked into the reception area. The clinic was already active and there were people all over the place — patients and staff all going hither an thither.
Dad walked up to the desk, “Jenny Holland is here for surgery.” He advised the desk jockey. She opened up a folder and ticked off a name picked up the phone and within a minute there was a nurse there.
“Miss Holland? This way if you please, you may leave your parents here but bring your bag.” It sounded like an order, so I hugged mum and dad we all had a tear in our eye but I was determined to be brave and so did mum and dad!
I turned to the nurse who smiled and lead me away, I turned at the door and waved to mum and dad, “See you later,” As I turned away dad said, “break a willy.” I snorted and the nurse looked at me like I was nuts. I guess Willies aren’t Willies in Switzerland.
My room was quite large and I was on my own.
“Just take off your clothes, and put them in the bedside cabinet please” The nurse was a bit terse, but was probably language strapped and or busy.”Have you had a shower this morning?” I nodded, “Then please pop this gown on and lie on the bed, I shall be back shortly to give you a pre-med shot.
I’d read about this — it was a sort of tranquiliser that allowed the anaesthetic to work more easily. In case you were worked up.
The nurse cam back and gave me the shot while I sat on the bed
I’d just got into the bed which seems a little hard when Docotr Kurt came in with another man. “All ready Jennifer?” He sat on the edge of the bed and watched me for a minute as I got settled.
“Yes, thank you, Doctor, I’m all yours so to speak.” He smiled and turned to the other man. “This is Doctor Wilbur Freedmann, he will be the anaesthetist. He would like to ask you a few questions before we go in. I’ll go and get ready — see you in there.”
He rose and patted my arm as he left.
The other doctor opened a clipboard with a short list of questions on it — I could see them from where I was sat on the bed.
“Ok, Jennifer Holland is your name, right?
“Yes”
“You are here for sex reassignment surgery?”
“Yes”
“You understand this surgery in not reversible and that you will never be able to father children after it?”
“Yes.” I felt a bit stupid answering that, but I guess they have to cover all angles.
He went through all my details and put a wristband on my wrist on which was my name and the surgery to be performed. I looked quizzically at him.
“Just so we don’t cut off the wrong leg.” He smiled — goodness me, I thought; a Swiss with a sense of humour.
“Do you have any allergies?”
I shook my head “No”
“Have you had an anaesthetic before?”
“Yes”
He raised an eyebrow asking the question
“Tonsils,” I said pointing to my mouth.
“Ah” he made a note on his clipboard.
“Any other things that might be relevant?”
I shook my head again, “I can’t think of anything.”
He closed his clipboard and rose, “Right, I’ll see you in there.”
I noted that neither of them actually said the words ‘operating theatre’. Perhaps it unsettles some people.
Presently an orderly came in looked at my clipboard and said “Jenny Holland” and then checked my bracelet. I barely had a chance to say yes and it was brakes off and away we go. She stopped at a huge linen press and took out a blanket — it was really snugly and warm as she spread it across my bed.
“That will keep you warm until they need you.” She spoke with a strong accent but seemed really nice. She looked at the clipboard again. “You were boy, yes?”
“Well I guess that part is over now,” she continued, “We have one or two a month here like you, but not so pretty, best of luck.”
By this time we had arrived at the holding area and there were three doors on the opposite wall with A,B and C on them. Kurt came out of B and asked the orderly to wheel me in. I felt a little distant and a little frightened. This was IT.
The door swung to and I was in the theatre, both doctors and a nurse were in scrubs with the mask already over their faces.
The orderly and a nurse lifted me across from the bed onto the slab — no other word for it — it was cold and the pad on it quite thin. The blanket was left there for a minute.
as a nurse popped a butterfly in the back of my hand.
“How are you feeling Jenny?” Kurt asked looking at me closely.
“A little frightened, but not bad I suppose, I’m not worried about the operation just about the not waking up after it.” I felt safe, but like my life was balanced on a beam.
“Well, I can assure you there is no danger to your life.” Kurt smiled — his eyes crinkled — it’s the only way I could tell!
“Right, I’m going to inject this milky stuff into your arm and it will feel a little cold then you’ll wake up back in your room. Could you count backwards from one hundred please.”
“one hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight, ninety…” I could feel myself slipping, I managed to say “goodbye”.
I could feel something rubbing on my sternum like a finger. I came to looking at a nurse.
“OK ok you’re safe,” she assured me calmly.
I couldn’t feel anything; no pain, no difference.
“Didn’t they do the operation?” I asked,
“Oh yes, they did it, you’re back in your room now — it’s 3.30pm” the nurse smiled.
My mind swirled, “I’m very thirsty, can I get a drink please?”
She held a straw to my lips I pulled on it hungrily, “Gently now — too much and it will come straight back.” I swilled the nectar round my mouth, taking in my surroundings.
There were two drips but no pingy machines like they had in the TV hospitals.
“They’ve given you a pain numbing injection which will wear off in the next hour or so, let me know if you’re in pain and I’ll put something in your drip to ease it.” The nurse tucked me in and made sure I was Ok.
“Your mum and dad are outside, would you like to see them?” She asked brightly.
“Yes please,” I was still groggy, but I really wanted to see them. She went out and brought them back.
“Congratulations, you have a 62 kilo baby girl.” She chuckled and left us to it.
Mum rushed over to me and held my hand, “How are you feeling darling?”
“Really groggy, but there’s no pain, they gave me something for it. Could I have a little more water? I pointed tot the cup with the straw in it. Mum reached it for me and I took another long suck on the water — it felt fantastic.
“So you’re all done?” Dad asked —
“Daddy, I can’t tell, they said they did it but I don’t feel any different.” I looked at him — he looked like he’d been crying.
“Have you been crying daddy? Why?” I was perturbed.
“Well it seemed you were in a long time and I was worried, I thought something may have gone wrong. Then the nurse came and said that everything was fine and you’re going to be fine. It was such a relief I burst into tears. Silly old bugger aren’t I?”
He held my hand on the other side to mum and I felt very good. Somehow I slipped off back to sleep — even though I wanted to chat to mum and dad.
When I awoke a little later they’d gone to get something to eat and told the nurse they’d be back a little later.
They came in after tea; I actually got to drink some as well. Daddy was carrying a huge white rabbit — stuffed of course!
I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable and told the nurse before she got a chance to leave.
“If it gets too painful, just press the bell and I’ll come and give you something. The painkillers are morphine based and we don’t want you getting hooked.” She smiled and left us to it.
I was allowed to eat some jelly and ice cream later and another cup of tea. It was excellent.
I was promised a proper breakfast in the morning.
As the feeling came back into my lower body, I realised that I felt like someone had kicked me several times and that someone had left a knife stuck in me. I asked the nurse. It was absolute agony and even though I knew the pain was from surgery, I asked the nurse what was going on.
“Oh, you have a catheter in — it collects your urine — saves you going to the bathroom and stops you getting the operation site wet.” She pointed to a bag full of orangey yellow pee in a clear plastic bag hung under the bed. I gently rolled on my side to look under the bed -OH GROSS!
She injected a little something into the drip and the ache went away again but not fully — they didn’t want me to forget!!
We watched telly for a while but it was all in Swiss or French and we didn’t understand much if any of it. My head felt like there were ants running round in it. I couldn’t even breathe properly — if I sucked in a big breath, the knife that was stuck in me made the pain almost unbearable.
I started to feel like I was trapped.
I kept my face straight for Mum and Dad and tried to look like I was normal. They went back to their room at about 9pm and told me they’d be back in the morning with chocolates and grapes and a bottle of Kirsch — I asked what it was and they said Swiss Cherry Schnapps!(I got the chocolates but Dad kept the Plonk!).
I slept fitfully and sometime during the night I rang the bell because I was in even more pain. It was cycling and throbbing with an occasional stab. My groin felt hot and stingy with a background ache that felt like I was constipated and had been for the last three years..
The nurse checked my bandages and upped my dose slightly. “You have stabbing pain, yes?” I nodded, “That will be the nerves reconnecting one by one — this will happen for a long time.” She smiled By 8 am I was feeling really seedy and the nurse said I had a little temperature.
The doctor came at 9.0 to see me and inspect his handiwork — he checked my readings and put me on panadol to lower my temperature.
The nurse uncovered my wound and the doctor took a look, “Well that as nice a piece of work as I’ve seen young lady — and of that there can now be no doubt.” He smiled enigmatically and asked the nurse for a hand mirror. “Would you like to see the new you? It’s a bit bruised and swollen but there can be no doubt. In a few days, the swelling will go down and you’ll be absolutely normal!” He handed me the mirror and I angled it to view my new vagina.
It looked like a train wreck to my unpractised eye. But if the doctor was pleased, then I was so I smiled and lay back happy it was all over. Somethng niggled the back of my mind.
“Doctor, I have this stabbing pain every so often — feels like someone has poked me with a sharp pin.”
“That’s quite expected Jenny, the nerves that have been cut are joining back together and they give off a few sparks to initiate contact. They settle down quite quickly but there are a lot of nerves to reconnect so it will happen for quite a while.” The doctor repeated basically what the nurse had said. I was reassured but not happy about it — it was darned sore.
I felt better in about twenty minutes — amazing stuff Panadol. The doc said the high temperature was a mild reaction to the anaesthetic.
Excellent — I wasn’t ill. My operation was a success — apparently — though to me it looked quite an ugly wound. The stabbing continued every few minutes — some were quite loud as pain goes, most were like a sharp pin. I tried to get used to them.
Mum and dad came in just as the doctor was leaving. He shook their hand and talked with them for a minute then left looking quite the hero.
Mum and dad rushed over and gave me a hug, “The doctor said your operation looked very good and he expected an almost scar free result.” Mum gushed excitedly.
“Almost?” I looked at her.
“He said the scar would be under your pubic hair and would be hard to see even if it wasn’t.” She added to appease me — I could only wait and see. I have to admit to myself that the wound looked quite horrific and it was totally numb. I wondered if it would get better.
I was coming off my high pretty fast, I hope I didn’t get the blues before I learnt to accept me.
I winced as another pain hit me.
“What was that?” mum looked worried.
“The doctor said my wiring was being re attached and it was being tested nerve by nerve — it feels very strange as some of it is inside me and some is outside — I think I’m getting a feeling from the bit that isn’t there any ore as well.” I looked a bit embarrassed at that and mum coloured slightly.
“I think that may be what’s called phantom limb syndrome.” Mum explained. Soldiers who’d lost legs said they could feel their toes itching and things.”
“Phantom limb? I don’t think it counts as a limb, it wasn’t that big!” I had to grin and dad stifled a chuckle too. Mum smiled broadly — I guess we’re not too far apart in our sense of humour
“Cheeky monkey… Well,” She leaned in close to me, and whispered, “the doctor said he had plenty of material to work with so it must have been big enough!”
This time I coloured up.
STAB…. “Oooh that hurts, I guess the pain killers are wearing off again.” I twisted a bit trying to get comfy. Despite the bed being contoured to fit and having plenty of pillows it was rapidly getting me down.
The nurse came quite quickly after I pressed the bell “Can I get some more panadol please?”
She consulted the chart, “Only if you’re really sore, if you can stand it for 30 minutes more, I’ll be happier to give you some then.”
“I guess so,” I grimaced ungraciously.
“Don’t be like that darling, the nurse is just doing her job.” Mum chided.
I burst into tears, “It hurts mummy, it really does, I’m trying to be brave, honestly I am,” I felt like a two year old but the incessant background buzz of sore and achiness had its grip on me and there didn’t seem to be anywhere to hide.
“Mum gathered me into her arms, I cold feel her hot tears on my shoulder as they soaked into my nighty. “It’ll get better darling, I promise. Be a brave little girl for us for a little while — it is only for a day or two and it will be all over.”
I hugged her back as hard as I could and dad even joined in, hugging us both.
After a while the pain seemed to lessen and I felt drowsy — I guess it takes it out of you. Dad’s eyes were a bit pink too so we all felt a little sad and tired.
I slipped into a half sleep .
Lunch arrived, soup and a white bread sandwich — there was egg and lettuce in it. The soup was a consommé but tasted great.
I scoffed the lot in minutes. The nurse brought me a jelly with cream — she told me she wasn’t allowed to give it to me until I’d finished my sandwich!!!
Mum and dad were offered a cuppa and some biscuits to keep me company..
After lunch they decided to let me rest as I was quite groggy and went for a walk.
When they told the nurse she said the doctor was returning to remove the packing at 2 pm and could they make it later then 5 pm as there was some clinical work to be done and I’d be engaged for a while.
Dad wiggled his eyebrows at me and gave me a wave — “see you at 5 baby.”
I laid back and the next I knew the doctor was shaking me gently.
“Jennifer. Wake up little one.” The doctor’s gentle voice penetrated the foggy dream I was having where Paul was trying to get into my bra — when I came to I realised my nighty was strangling me as it had got twisted round my chest.
The doctor was scratching the back of my hand..
“Nurse could you remove the dressing while I scrub up please.”
“Certainly, doctor” the nurse folded back the covers and my nighty was tucked up under my chin, “I’m going to put a pillow under your knees dear, could you part your legs as far as is comfortable.” The nurse helped me get into a comfortable yet very undignified position. I couldn’t see anything as my head was back but a breeze wafted over my bare skin and felt deliciously cool as the dressing was removed.
“That’s healing very nicely Jennifer. What I’m going to do now is remove the packing which is holding your vagina open. There’s quite a lot of it but it will come out quite easily. When it does, a lot of the pain will diminish — ok?” The doctor picked up a pair of scissors off the tray the nurse held and I heard a couple of clicks — presumably as the stitches were cut. The doctor started pulling out a load of tape - it seemed endless
As he did, the pain eased from full on to maybe 10% - I let out a huge sigh.
“That feels better eh?” I could hear the smile in the doctor’s voice
“Oh yes doc, that feels a lot better — thank you, I don’t know how much longer I could have stood that awful pain.” I was almost seeing stars as the loose endorphins bounced around inside — What a high.
“That looks a lot better already, you are healing very fast, It is good you are so young. Healing is a lot faster when you are fit and young.” He turned to the nurse and said. “Right , I think the catheter and drips can come out now and just a light dressing over the wound I think.” Turning back to me. “Right Miss Holland, I’m all done for today, I’ll see you in the morning. If you need to pass water, tell the nurse and she will assist you — please do not get out of bed unaided..”
“Thanks doctor, I will, goodnight.” I smiled in relief and an overwhelming sense of peace. When pain is removed like that, nothing seems to be enough to give thanks to.
I expect religion is very much a part of that feeling of euphoria.
The doctor turned at the door and said, “Today was good , tomorrow will be better, but the hard work begins.” With an enigmatic smile he closed the door.
Part 18
The night was long and lonely. Even though mum and dad had been with me til about 9.30 when the nurse gave them their marching orders.
“My patient is tired and needs her rest, please could you say goodnight to her, you may return in the morning.” A very Teutonic evening nurse metaphorically clicked her heels together and marched them out of the ward.
Dad’s eyes were a picture and I giggled as they playfully slunk out like vagrant school children under the watchful eye of the stern Schulerin (female Teacher).
The nurse returned to my side and asked if there was anything she could get for me and offered me some painkillers and a trip to the loo, both of which I happily accepted.
I’d already been up for a brief wander to the loo that afternoon under the watchful eye and the very needed support of the nurse. Apart from the pillow spin when I got up and the vacant feeling of peeing without a penis, there was no difference. It was a bit of an anticlimax really.
Walking was another thing entirely — muscles seemed to be out of whack and I had a lot of difficulty moving them normally. Any sideways correction sent a spasm through my nether regions — meaning some things had been cut and moved in there.
The nurse gave me some wipes with a little alcohol on them to wipe myself gently with after my first wee. Feeling myself down there for the first time was really strange and I was tentative to say the least — I could feel rows of stitches which caught on the tissue and loose skin in some areas and swollen areas too.
When I got back to bed she inspected my wound and declared it tidy and dry!
She offered me a look again as the swelling had diminished a lot, I declined.
Anyway I was settling down for the night — my first night of being Jenny without the groggy sleep juice that I’d had last night. I was one day old!
The little stabs were coming in sort of waves — about every hour or so I’d awake to a loud one and then it was followed by a sort of automatic volume control as it bedded in. There was a weird buzzy feeling after each spell where I swear I could feel a bit more overall — like a matrix opening up between the new areas. I asked the nurse.
“I think that is what is called body mapping,” she smiled and tried to explain. “Your nerves are no longer attached to things in the same place. Where yesterday your penis was outside your body, the nerves are now inside and your head is trying to work out where the new ends are in relation to the rest of your body.” She watched my face for confirmation of my understanding.
“Like a shout to your teammates if you were playing in the dark, so you knew where to pass the ball?” I was trying to paraphrase it so she would know I understood.
She smiled and nodded, “Yes I think that is quite like what is happening, the shout is a bit louder than needed as your head does not know where the rest of the team is in relation to it.” She patted my arm, “I’ll be back in an hour or so to wake you up for a sleeping pill. Ring the buzzer if you need me though.”
I was surprised at her command of English, conceptualising in a foreign language is difficult and she seemed to have no problem with it. As I dozed off I thought I might ask her when I woke up.
My dreams were clearer tonight, though I wouldn’t really want to call them dreams. They seemed to be centred on the traumatic removal of my genitals. I woke in a bit of a lather once or twice but only had the vaguest recollection of the dreams. I knew they weren’t pleasant though! I wondered sleepily if it was my mind trying to compensate for the loss of my boy bits. I thought to ask the shrink (but I never did).
The next morning was really weird, I was chivvied out of bed at about 6am. I sat in the chair on a sheepskin pad as my bed was remade by two orderlies and then the nurse waltzed me off to the bathroom where after a pee, she sat me in a chair and gave me a hand shower — I was sat on a very soft sponge mat with a towel over the new bits to stop them getting too wet.
The amount of water she used was so small that I was hardly wet at all. But I did feel a lot better when she finished. “Right, lets get you back to bed and ready for the doctor. Put on a clean nightdress Jenny and brush your hair, I want a pretty girl waiting for her parents after the doctor leaves.”
“Why do I have to be up at this hour of the morning, nurse?” I was not best pleased. I’d been woken quite regularly even after being woken to give me a sleeping pill as she had promised. My temperature had returned to normal, but my nerves were a bit frayed and not just in the nether regions!
“I have a lot to do and you cannot be left to clean yourself on your own, so I must do it. There are other people who must also be tended to” She explained slightly shortly to me. Considering Daddy had paid a fortune for me to be here, the least I expected was a nurse without a surly attitude.
“I think I might have appreciated being left til last thanks,” I’m tired and not in the best condition to be bright and friendly I continued in my head.
“The others are not so mobile as you and are quite poorly, I am allowing them a little more sleep because they need it.” She looked at me like I was an immature delinquent, I felt perhaps I was one after that dressing down.
“Ok, I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep so well.” I gave her a churlish smile and she smiled back.
“You can have a little doze after you return to your bed. Breakfast will still be a little while. I will wake you then.” She helped me gingerly sit and swing my legs up onto the bed and tucked me in.
Within seconds it seemed, my breakfast arrived — more solid food — and a beautifully cooked poached egg on some really nice wholemeal toast.
More fibre than I’d had in days!
I guess they wanted me to pass a motion before I left the clinic.
I guess this is my third day as a real person at last. I’d felt so aliented for so long that I was reluctant to accept my new status.
The doctor had no such qualms and told me that I was a pretty madchen and that life for me was about to begin.
“Und I want you to start today with the smallest stent,” He added. “Nurse, would you make sure that it is documented on the chart as Jennifer will be transferring to the Nursing Home tomorrow ?”
“Yes Herr Doktor.” The nurse nodded and noted the dilation to take place at 2 pm and 8 pm ( she showed me the chart and winked at me).
“Right Jennifer, all being well I will see you tomorrow before you move and tomorrow evening when you are settled in the clinic — it is only two streets away so not far to go.
You will probably be taken by wheelchair if the weather is not too cold..”
As the Doctor left, mum arrived and smiled at him and the nurse. “Good morning, how’s our girl this morning?” She was looking at me as she spoke .
“Jennifer is doing very well indeed and will today start dilation to make sure that my needlecraft is not wasted,” he smiled and nodded at mum.
Mum smiled back and he strutted off down the passageway, obviously pleased with his professionalism — and his ego I guess.
Mum rolled her eyes and came over and gave me a hug. “How are you this morning petal?”
“Bit tired, but much less pain and not so groggy”. STAB — “ooh! spoke too soon — stabbing is still an option I think... Where’s pops?”
“Finishing his breakfast — he sat up watching a football match last night and I couldn’t drag him out of bed this morning. Christmas eve today don’t forget so he’s been on the eggnog a bit too..”
“I guess he’ll be as red nosed as Rudolf too if he’s not careful.”
The morning passed in gentle conversation and we discussed the future as a more tangible thing.
Boys came up and I felt sad as Paul drifted into my consciousness again.
“What are the men in Oz like?” I asked, not really thinking they’d be any different from UK blokes.
“Generally speaking they’re very macho and chauvinist.” Mum replied quite circumspectly. “Personally I think they’re a bit Neanderthal and quite rude, but Dad says they’re ok, once you get used to their brashness.”
“Oh, I hope they’re not that bad, I might want to come back to UK and be comfortable with my sloppy, unwashed prole.”” I grinned.
Mum snorted and shook her head to rid herself of the mental image. “You noticed huh?”
“I guess, it’s not hard to spot really, Nigel was a pretty clean dude, a lot of them don’t smell so good. Mind you Paul was ok.” My mind wandered a minute over the memory of his musky scent. “Most of the time anyway.” I added. Mum squeezed my hand and gave me a sympathetic look.
“It takes them a long time to realise that it’s hard to smell your own lack of hygiene. At least Aussie men realise it’s a hot sweaty place and keep scrupulously clean.. when they can.” She added as an afterthought.
We drifted about in our own thoughts until Dad poked his head round the door. “Morning Campers.” He entered and held out a bunch of Edelweiss and a box of rather fine Swiss Chocs.
“Flowers for my princess and Choccies to share. Nurse says you’re allowed three before lunch Jenny.”
“So who gets the flowers then?” I quipped.
“Beth is my Queen, you are my Princess, your loveliness,” Dad bowed and proffered the tiny bunch to me.
“Where did you get them Dad? I didn’t think you were allowed to pick them.”
“Actually I got them downstairs in the lobby, they’re cultivated so they can be sold. You’re right; I don’t think picking a whole bunch is legal. These cost a fortune too so make sure they last!!” Dad added wryly. “Still it’s Christmas and we deserve pampering.”
We chatted and watched inspector Rex on the TV and before we knew it, it was lunchtime and the nurse brought me some vegetable soup and some rye bread. It was heavenly. Obviously made with a rich chicken stock. Dessert was a sort of sponge with coffee in it and cream — I thought it sounded Japanese but they said it was Italian. Tiramisu.
Mum and dad had a coffee and then the nurse spoke to them and they looked over at me. “Looks like we’ve got to leave you to do some exercises pet.” Mum looked a bit sympathetic dad looked a bit awkward. We’ll away and get some lunch and see you in a couple of hours….”
I’m not going to go into great detail about dilation. It’s messy and a bit undignified. And not a little scary — and I got to inspect myself rather better than I’d really wanted to at that point.
Though I have to say, the apparent butchery that I’d witnessed the day before was much diminished and looked rather more like it belonged on a body than a cadaver.
There wasn’t much feeling down there even though I’d been getting stabbing pains regularly. I could feel pressure but not touch.
Apparently my depth was quite good — though I wouldn’t know how much I had until the swelling was down and the tissue had settled. I only got to use the littlest stent.
The nurse was patient and very gentle and instilled in me the need for absolute diligence and hygiene when going through my routine — “Twice a day for the first 6 months. We’ll work out how long later.” Sounded an awful lot to me as the first dilation took almost an hour and was a little frightening as there was a bit of blood and stuff. The nurse was very reassuring, “That will all diminish over the next few days.” She affirmed.
“Tonight we’ll do the same and maybe try the next size for a little while.” The nurse advised me smiling compassionately as the tears in my eyes showed my fear and discomfort. “It’s not so bad, everything is going very well, you’ll soon get used to it and it won’t be so scary.” She squeezed my arm and tidied me up; leaving with all the paraphernalia under a towel on a tray. I never wanted to see them again. But I knew I would.
Mum and dad must have been waiting outside as they appeared almost immediately, both looked concerned when they saw my tears. Mum gave me a huge hug and dad hugged us both. My tears flowed for a few minutes as my self centeredness gave vent, then I realised that this was what I wanted and I sucked it up a bit.
“Sorry, I just feel a bit sorry for myself but I shouldn’t, I wanted this so much, it’s just hard to go through and I’m not very brave.” I felt the tears stinging my eyes again.
I shook my head and smiled at the frowns on my parent’s faces. “Sorry, I’ll be ok in a minute.”
I could sense two different emotions coming from mum and dad — Dad was way out of his comfort zone and was giving off sympathetic pain signals.
Mum was giving off woman vibes, compassion mixed with understanding of the intrusion into my body that had occurred.
I’d like to say that the evening session was less traumatic, but when I saw the size of stent #2 it made me feel a little sick. When you realise you’ve got to stick it into yourself in a space that wasn’t there a few days ago and is essentially a large gaping wound, it’s really hard to be dispassionate about it — however it went in surprisingly easily and I felt a bit better about it. The nurse gave me a huge smile and said “There you go, you managed to relax and it went right in. Good Girl. Now we’ll get you cleaned up and you can settle down for the evening.” So much for Christmas Eve — I got to pay with my new toy and managed to play hide and seek with a large (to me) imitation penis…
I didn’t feel very girly I had to admit. Though I did feel a lot better about dilation.
Christmas day seemed to arrive before I could come round, I felt really quite tired and almost drugged. The nurse helped me to the bathroom and checked my vital signs. “No, you’re quite fine, your temp and blood pressure are ideal, I think you’ve just come down off your operation tension. You’ve relaxed, now you realise you’re over the worst. This is a good thing — do not worry. After breakfast we will do your exercises again and then Beth and Mike will be here to wish you a Gutte Noel.”
And so it came to pass that two hours later, the breakfast had been consumed, the dilation been carried out and the doctor had been to study his protégé…
Except…
“Now I’d like you to lie back while I just check that all is as it should be.”
I didn’t like the look of this, the doctor was washing his hands and the nurse had plonked a tray down with a pair of latex gloves next to the bed.
The nurse prepared my position as before — like I was about to be serviced!!!
“Relax Jenny, this will not take long and I promise it won’t hurt.” The nurse smiled at me and squeezed my arm. I felt like I was about to be sacrificed ..
The doctor slipped on the gloves, tears sprang to my eyes.. what is wrong with me?
I suddenly felt like all the other women in the world — vulnerable.
The doctor suddenly noticed my fear.
“Oh Jenny, I am sorry, I should have prepared you for what I’m about to do.
I’m just going to inspect the outer labia and the area around the clitoris for adhesions and split stitches. I am not going to go any further, I promise you.” He tried to be as reassuring as he could be.
I could feel my heart rate diminishing — I had felt I was about to be violated — without my permission — and that had really upset me — the doctor paused and looked at me.
“Is it ok if I carry on Jenny? I’ll postpone it til tonight if you like, but I’d like to make sure that any stitches that may have split be repaired before you move to the other clinic.”
I bit my lip and nodded for him to carry on, I closed my eyes and turned my head away. I was not really ready but I would be brave.
Two minutes later it was over and to be honest I hadn’t really felt much at all — just a really sharp feeling as he touched my clitoris and a sort of tugging around the area.
He’d noticed me jump when he touched my clitoris and said quietly, “You have sensation there; that is very good.”
“Right nurse, I think that is me finished — I’m off home for my Christmas Breakfast and Church.
You young lady, may transfer to the nursing clinic and you may eat whatever you wish today. You are healing as well as anyone I’ve ever seen and I think you can relax and enjoy your Christmas.” He smiled. “I shall see you for a few moments this evening and check that all is well.” He removed his gloves and disposed of them and then turned back to me. “Bis spater.” (“til later” the nurse translated to me after)
He chucked me under the chin and gave me the warmest smile I’d seen from him. I smiled back. “Thank you doctor, I’m sorry I was a bit nervous, it’s all a bit overwhelming. I’m not sure which way is up at the moment.”
“That’s ok, see you later.” He turned and walked out of the room.
I lay back as the nurse pulled up the covers and tucked me in.
Mum and dad appeared like magic. “We just spoke to the doctor, he’s very happy with you.” Mum gave me a hug and dad waved from further back as he deposited a couple of wrapped boxes on the bedside unit.
“Happy Christmas Darling,” dad hugged me and made sure my cuddles were topped right up to overflowing.
“You’re looking a much better colour this morning — we can see the sparkle in your eye again.” Mum settled into the chair next to the bed.
“I think that could be something to do with the very embarrassing inspection the doctor just gave me.” I volunteered.
Dad’s eyes opened so wide I thought they were about to fall out onto his cheek.
“Too much information darling,” mum admonished.
“Oh sorry, but it took me a bit by surprise as well.”
Dad changed the subject and plonked the pressies on the bed. “Right these are from me and your mum.” He reached into his pocket, “and this is from the girls,” placing a bright red packet on the bed “and this is from Nigel,” as his hand dipped into his pocket again and pulled out a longish box tied up with a ribbon.
I was eager to open mum and dad’s pressie but I thought I’d save it til last and opened Nigel’s first. I was surprised to find a beautiful Scheaffer pen, it must have cost him a week’s tips at the restaurant. “Wow, that’s lovely, isn’t he a sweetie?” I put it to one side and went for the Girls’ pressie. Inside was a bottle of Chanel#5 “Wow again.”
I looked at the two small boxes that were mum and dad’s pressie — they felt like jewellery boxes and I was not disappointed. Dad’s was a gold necklace. Mums was a pair of diamond studs. REAL diamonds.
I burst into tears, “They’re so lovely, thank you thank you thank you.” I grabbed mum round the neck and hugged her until she cried for air! Then dad got the same.
“I must be the luckiest girl in the world.”
I could see mum and dad’s eyes were floating in liquid too and we all sat there looking silly for a while until mum said. “Let’s see how these studs fit eh?”
In a jiffy I had the necklace on too and I felt like a real princess!
Part 19
Christmas Day will never feel the same — it seems like it’ll be a birthday for me too.
I didn’t go mad with the food as one would expect as I was a bit out of it…..
After I had opened my presents, the nurse came in and said it was time I got ready to move over to the nursing home, so I gently went about the business of getting some clothes on and making myself tidy — I was still sporting a lot of stitches and they were very itchy. I was still leaking a lot of fluid — mostly white blood cell plasma apparently.
So I was wearing an enormous sanitary pad and a large pair of knickers under a woollen skirt — the one I had bought before the trip. I had a few layers on top to keep me warm and I knew that I would need it too. The temperature outside was about 2c.
A wheelchair was brought for me and I was gently sat in it one a very soft foam pad — It was still not comfy but it was bearable for what would be 10 mins of gentle rolling between the Hospital and the Home. A warm blanket was tucked in round my legs.
Apparently it was done quite often and if the patient was fit for the nursing home, then they were fit for the transfer by wheelchair. I had no control over it though as it was one of those with 4 small wheels — not big ones you can grab.
The nurse bid me adieu and gave me a hug and said she would pop in to say goodbye before I went home. The orderly was a big square headed guy with a linebacker’s shoulders and a smile like Arnie. I guessed he could carry the wheelchair if things went wrong.
“C’mon mum, let’s get this over with” I was getting impatient as my stitches were pulling already and I’d only been sat for ten minutes. The orderly was trying to look patient but was already champing at the bit as mum fussed around picking up flowers and stuff.
“You go on ahead, I’ll catch you up.” She answered over her shoulder and tried to cram another book under her arm.
“That one isn’t mine mum — it’s the Hospital’s.” I said.
“Oh right,” she put it back down and dropped the magazines she had in the other hand.
Dad rolled his eyes — “leave it now Beth we can come back for the rest if we have to.”
“Oh, right,” mum retrieved the magazines and spilled some water from a vase in the carrier bag she had over her arm.
I started to giggle — my stitches pulled a bit tighter… “Ouch, that’s sore.” I winced.
“C’mon Misses Chaplin, I know the Charlie Chaplin Institut is close by but you’re not auditioning today.” Dad was grinning and trying to hold her up as she skidded on the water she spilt.
Eventually we got to the front door and through the glass we could see huge flakes of snow swirling round the entry.
“Das ist nicht gut,” the intern stopped where he was and locked my wheels, “moment bitte.” He walked over to the desk.
After a moment he returned, “We muss go by ambulancewagen fraulein” he informed me, “I will pick you up here in a minute or two, please wait here.” Suddenly — he was gone.
Mum and dad plonked down in the lobby on the sofas supplied — looking like sherpas with their packs and cases. “At least we’ll get to go by car.” Mum sighed.
The small ambulance came round to the front and my chaperon came for me. He turned to mum and Dad.
“Leider — ah in English — I cannot take you in the ambulance, I apologise. It is for patients only, insurance does not cover passengers.” He intoned translating as he went into his quite acceptable English.
So he helped me into the front seat, abandoning the chair, and strapped me in — “Here we go" he said. I waved at mum and dad as he let in the clutch and we gently pulled out of the covered porchway. Leaving mum and dad with gaping mouths and two armloads of stuff each!.
The roads were not impassable, but the snow was thickening on the pavement and mum and dad were going to be more than a few minutes following me up the road.
We got there in less than 3 minutes as it was really only just round the corner.
I had been transferred to my new bed and was tucked in before two slightly damp and cold parents appeared at my door — minus the carrier bag with the vase of flowers. Mum had skidded and dropped it and it broke.
I started to laugh at the sight and mum gave me “the frown” — so I held it down to a titter and opened my arms to give her a consolation hug.
Dad was gracious but a little miffed that he had to walk.
I would dine out on this for months!
However I had sustained a bit of injury myself and popped a few stiches. I told the nurse who introduced herself, it took me a minute or two as her English was not so good. When I said “Stitches” she perked up and said “Ah”.
She had a little look and pronounced me “OK” I knew the doctor was coming to see me later so I demurred, and decided to tell him myself.
The nurse did write something on my chart — which had appeared a few minutes after me. It was the one from the hospital so they were not going to be confused.
Mum and dad tried to keep me amused by playing cards and scrabble with me for a while but I got a bit tired and sent them off to get their lunches so I could doze.
I guess I wasn’t as perky as I thought as even that bit of excitement had taken its toll and I was quite tired. And a bit uncomfortable if the truth be told.
The room was nice and the bed was ok, but I was cranky. Well I was allowed to be — I was in a Krankenhaus wasn’t I?
When I came round, the sun was setting and mum and dad were dozing on the sofa leaning against each other like Laurel and Hardy. I felt heaps better but I’d been out for about 3 hours or so!
The nurse came in and took my vitals and the noise woke the slumbering duo.
“Oh dear, we fell asleep — what a waste of Christmas Day.” Mum looked at her watch.
Dad declared, “Well I think I must have been trained by experts, I’ve fallen asleep every Christmas day after lunch for as long as I can remember!”
The nurse looked at her watch, “Now it is time for Jenny to do her exercises, you must please come back later, in one hour.”
Dad almost clicked his heels and mimed “Jawohl, mein fuhrer” grinned at me and helped mum on with her coat — “We’ll just go and get a drink in the hotel and see you later pet.”
I did my exercises, the nurse got me to try #3 which was a bit bigger but not so daunting as Big Bertha (WWI gun that used to shell across the Channel) which I had christened my largest ‘challenge’.
I managed to get it a bit stuck but it wasn’t painful — once I got it out and lubed back up it went in a bit further but not all the way. It had a bit of pink on it too which was a bit scary.
“So Jenny, you have successfully changed beds, how did you feel afterwards?” The doctor held my wrist and then looked into my eyes.
“Fine, I think I popped a few stitches though,” I replied to prime his curiosity.
“ I think then that I will have a little look to check you haven’t undone ALL my handiwork.” He smiled at me and motioned to the nurse to prepare me as he went to wash his hands.
Two minutes later he pronounced me fine — “The stitches were dissolving, they were very small ones that I would expect to be gone by tomorrow anyway. So no harm done.”
“There was a little blood on the #3 stent as well doctor, and it didn’t go all the way in.” I supplied more information hoping for his reassurance.
“This is normale, you are stretching the new skin inside — it is supposed to happen a little do not be discouraged — you are healing very well indeed.” He certainly knew how to reassure me.
He removed his gloves and offered me a box of tissues — “if you’d like to tidy yourself, it would be good practice for when you are home. You will not always have a nurse to look after you. Unless your parents are very rich indeed,” he added. “In which case, I may not have charged enough for the operation.” He laughed gently to ensure I was ‘in’ on the joke. I joined him.
“I will see you tomorrow night I think, I do not need to disturb you in the morning. The nurse can do that. See you tomorrow Jenny.” And with that he was off back to his family.
Since I was lying there pretty much exposed, I decided to venture a look at my new anatomy — hoping it was a little less gruesome. There was a makeup mirror on the dresser which I grabbed and placed between my legs. The bruising was a lot less and the yellow stuff they had painted on was almost gone too. The result was a lot more like a rather bald (Brazilian!?) normal female than I’d expected and I felt relieved — until I realised mum was at the door smirking and had stopped dad in the hall before he’d got to the doorway (thank GOD!!!).
“EEK” escaped my lips and I nearly dropped the mirror on the floor. I pulled the bedclothes up so fast I thought I was going to get carpet burns on my toes!
“Oh my god, that’s SOOO embarrassing.” I could feel the heat from my skin and I didn’t know where to look.
“Well you’d better get used to it — it looked pretty normal from where I was.” Mum joked.
“What?” Dad was allowed into the room, “What did I miss?”
“Dad, you do NOT want to know.” Mum squeezed my hand and we shared a girly moment.
Dad looked like he suddenly understood as he looked elsewhere and coughed a bit and pretended he hadn’t a clue what we were talking about.
The nurse asked if mum and dad would like to stay for dinner — schinken mit bratkartofeln — (Ham and Roast Potatoes) - as it was Christmas. So they joined me and I was allowed to sit at the small table in the room with them and eat my fill.
I felt I was improving in leaps and bounds.
After mum and dad left I was treated to a warm salt bath and tucked in by the night nurse. I felt replete and quite well healed. Life was taking on a more normal feel and I slept very well.
“That is very good Jenny,” the nurse took the stent from me and wrapped it in a tissue and put it back on the tray.
I lay there realising that I had done what the doctor had said I would — accomplished all that he had asked of me - #4 — Big Bertha no longer seemed so significant.
I had well and truly ‘done it’
The nurse took the tray of implements into the bathroom and while she was washing them, I cleaned myself up and disposed of the tissues.
“Can I have a shower please nurse?”
“Ja, das ist in ordnung, die dusche ist frei.” She called back and I heard her turn on the water to get it warm.
I hopped off the bed and padded across to the bathroom, no twinges and no pain. Life was feeling pretty good.
“Tomorrow you will be going home ja?” The nurse asked as she wiped down the sink.
“Yes I think so, if the doctor says it is Ok.” I smiled at the thought — my own bed.
Proper English food.
I quickly washed myself down and dried myself — just being a little gentler in the nether regions, but it was feeling less weird each time I showered — the feeling of vacancy is really strange at first.
I quickly dressed as mum and dad were soon due and they were taking me to the hotel restaurant for dinner — the snow had settled and the pavements had been cleared and were safe and dry. I wasn’t going to slip over and hurt myself.
Tomorrow the doctor would be in to check me out for the last time and I knew he’d be ok as I’d had no problems and #4 was now ticked off.
I was brushing my hair when mum arrived, “Dad’s waiting downstairs, He reckons you’ll be quicker if he doesn’t come up.” I could feel cold air emanating from mum.
“How cold is it outside?”
“About minus 10c according to the thermometer outside the hotel. But it’s only 200 yards to the restaurant and you’ve plenty of lagging on.”
She was right - I had thick woollen tights, underskirt and long wool skirt — boots and three layers of top clothing before my coat!! I was NOT going to freeze!
We joined dad and I walked between them to the restaurant and they held onto me like I was being escorted to the firing squad — I was not going to get away — or fall down!
We arrived in plenty of time and were seated immediately, I was allowed to order a glass of wine and we had some bubbly as well — what a celebration - New Year’s Eve.
I wasn’t allowed out til midnight, but that was ok — I wanted to be good for going home tomorrow. There was still a bit of bruising and some stitches were still evident — they were VERY itchy too as a lot of feeling had returned and the hard little ends were poking me — but I managed to ignore all but the worst jabs!
Dinner was a blur — I was just so happy that everything was ok and I was nearly better. We ate a pork knuckle in caraway gravy with dumplings — very heavy food but it seemed like our bodies required it to keep out the cold and none of us suffered indigestion -.Schwienshaxe. I shall try to cook one one day but would it be edible in Australia…?
I had a Black Forest Cake for desert — it was so soaked in Kirsch (cherry schnapps) that it made my eyes water.
“Well Jenny, happy New Year darling. This is one year you’ll never forget. Last year you were a nice young boy who was perhaps a little sad. Now you are a wonderful young lady with the world in front of you.”
A toast I think is in order, to all the world and to all our friends and family, I give you Jenny, my beautiful daughter.”
I sat there and blushed as mum and dad chinked heir glasses and I felt one or two drops of water fall from my eyes. “You sure are the mushiest family- how did I ever get involved with you lot? Thank you — did I already say that? Well I might as well make sure you heard me - I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your compassion, your love and your sacrifice. Oh and the money for the operation….”
I grinned and chinked their glasses.
Pretty soon I was feeling quite tired and we decided to call it a night — they hustled me back to the Nursing home for my last night before we returned to UK.
The next morning I felt a little less awake and I guessed the alcohol was to blame, however the nurse did not relent and made sure #4 had been used before she let me off the hook.
The doctor came round and mum and dad were with me as he entered.
“Well good morning to the family Holland, Happy New Year to you.” He grinned and shook mum and dad’s hands and then looked at me still in bed.
“I think I should have a quick check of Jenny to make sure she is ready to take on the world, if you could give me five minutes?” He smiled and ushered M & D out of the room. Turning back to me he said, “Now my dear, today I release you back into civilisation and I do so knowing that you have every chance of leading a normal female life. You are pretty and intelligent, you have transitioned young enough to enjoy a proper female adolescent growth spurt, which means your body is as female as it could be.”
He paused for a moment, turning to the nurse. “If you could help Jenny so I can do my final assessment of our patient?”
The nurse nodded and smiling at me and winking pulled back the covers and helped me raise my nightie to allow the doctor access.
As he washed his hands he said over his shoulder, “So how do you feel about it all Jenny? I know you seem to be handling it well but I’m not a psychiatrist so I can’t judge how well you’re coping mentally. Would you like to tell me how you feel?”
He turned to me as he pulled on his latex gloves, I smiled at him and looked him in the eye.
“I have to say doctor, I’m really still on cloud nine. This last week has been quite painful but it’s been like being reborn I guess. My body seems to fit with who I am inside and I realise now that that background disenchantment with how things were has gone.” I looked across at the nurse. “The people here have made me feel special and haven’t complained about not being with their families on Christmas Day or New Years Day. They’ve been like family themselves — there to see to my every need. I can only say to you like I said to my parents last night, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
The doctor and nurse both looked a bit surprised at my eloquence but I had been memorising this speech since I woke up — there was no way I could leave without giving them a really big hug and thank you.
“Well, let’s have a quick look see then eh?” The doctor moved towards me and the nurse looked on from the other side.
“Well most of the stiches have dissolved now — though there’s still some stuck to the skin, but they’ll fall away as soon as you move around a bit.” He moved the labia and checked in the folds. “Yes all clean and very natural looking — just a little bruising left. That should be gone by next week.” He checked the chart, “You have 150mm with stent #4? That is wonderful, if you keep up the exercises, you will gain a little more depth. Even now, you will have no problems, but a little more depth is always a good thing just in case eh?” He gave me a cheeky wink and I coloured up a little.
“Now where are your parents? Nurse could you see if you can find them for me. He stripped off his gloves and the nurse gave me some tissues to tidy up and she hurried off to find them.
They were back almost before I was covered up, they’d been outside the door.
“Ah there you are,” He reached in his pocket, “Here is your bill.” Then he laughed out loud as my dad’s eyes bugged out.
“Entshuldigen Sie Bitte, excuse me — sorry, a little joke I’m afraid. This envelope contains the letters of surgery and a note to your GP at home. You will need them to change the details of official documents and get through customs — if there are any difficulties.” He passed the letter over to dad who by this time was looking a little less like throwing up. “If there are any problems, my card is in the envelope and you can ring at any time. Please do not hesitate, it has been a pleasure working with your daughter, I wish her and you a very happy future.” His smile encompassed mum and dad and he held out his hand to dad who shook it firmly — mum gave him a little hug.
He turned back to me.
“And to you I wish all the happiness in the world,” he came over to shake my hand and I grabbed him and gave him the biggest hug. “Thank you so much, I shall never forget your kindness — and your sense of humour!!”
He coloured up a little and said, “hmm, quite, yes well.” And tentatively hugged me back — which considering he had his hands all over my nether regions was quite funny. I almost burst out laughing but I refrained.
He turned to dad, “Thank you Herr Holland, Viel Gluck, er good luck and have a good trip home, Jennifer is all yours, look after her, she is a lovely young lady.” He shook dad’s hand once more, winked at me and left the room.
There was a sort of sound vacuum for a second and then the nurse broke it with, “If you’d like to come and sign the release papers, you may take Jennifer home.” She curtsied in Swiss style and also left.
“Right Jenny, get dressed pet and I’ll pack up your stuff. All our stuff is at the hotel ready for us to pick up — the flight is set for midday which leaves us 3 hours to get checked in. So we can take it easy and have lots of time.” Mum was all set to get back to UK and was making sure we didn’t miss that plane!
I slipped out of bed as dad went to sign the papers — I was nearly dressed when he came back and heard him say to mum, “The nurse gave me this box for Jenny, what is it?” I had to grin, it had to be my dilators!.
“Michael, if you don’t know what’s in there, you really don’t want to look.” Mum snorted a bit and he was gingerly handing the box to mum as I came out of the bathroom. He looked a bit sheepish and gave me one of those embarrassed grins that men do when you talk about girly stuff.
“Put them in my grip bag please mum, I’m going to need them as soon as I get home so I’ll take them as cabin luggage.”
I looked round the room where I had been reborn, well recovered anyway. Nothing memorable about it — even the view was nothing spectacular. I would never forget it.
-------------------
Customs was a hoot.
“This passport says male, this is obviously not the passport for this lady.” The pedantic Swiss Customs man was not going to let dad get away without a fight.
Dad was about to try to explain when mum tapped him on the shoulder.” Give him the letter from the surgeon. I saw dad’s eyes roll back. “Of course.”
Once the letter was proffered, the customs man looked at me — “Really?” I nodded.
Dad got the passports and letter back and we proceeded on our way to the departure lounge.
“I think we need to get these things sorted out pretty soon, I’d forgotten all about that. I wonder why you didn’t get stopped on the way in?”
We pondered that question and the only thing we could come up with was they wanted us to spend our money in their country… though I would guess that the real reason was simply lack of attention.
When we got back to UK after an uncomfortable hour and a half sitting on a doughnut full of air — they really don’t help much — the customs lady in UK barely looked at my passport then did a double take but didn’t stop me when I smiled at her. I think there must have been enough resemblance, and it’s not illegal to wear a skirt even if you are a boy — which I’m thankful to say I’m not even if my passport says I am (for now).
I was glad to be home and sore and tired when we opened the front door.
I would have forgone the ‘exercises’ but mum grabbed my grip bag — took out the box and said “go do your exercises and then get ready for bed, I’ll bring you some tea in a little while.
That night I slept like the dead.
The Way Things Happen
Jennifer Christine
Chapter 20 Epilogue
Looking back from my verandah in Brisbane, it all seems so distant now.
After I got home everyone seemed glad to see me and I felt so loved.
Wendy and Carol wanted to spend a lot of time looking after me and trying to ‘get me off’ with some of the guys they’d met.
The weather was a drudge as it always is when Christmas is over and the snow at the roadside is crunchy and black and the rain falls with that cold penetrating ache.
Mum called me one Saturday morning. I‘d been home a while and back at school a week. Up to then everything had been cool and I was feeling settled
“Jen, there’s a phone call for you.”
I slipped on my dressing gown and shouted, “Coming,” as I shuffled into my slippers.
Mum passed me the handset and mouthed “Boy” and smiled.
I’d not had many male friends as Paul had been my only boyfriend and I’d been a bit loathe to start any new relationships. I expected this was a friend of Carol’s or Wendy’s who wanted a phone number or something.
“Hi, it’s Paul.” My heart lurched.
“Hi Paul, how are you?” I tried to hold my voice steady. I had no idea what to say, so I became totally inane….sheesh.
“Can I come and see you? I want to chat….. about us.” He sounded really hesitant and almost like he was going to throw the phone as far as he could from him.
My hands started trembling and I felt really strange, I really wanted to see him and yet I didn’t. I was torn. Torn between loving him and not wanting to see him.
“Why Paul? Why now?” I started to cry. “What can we say that hasn’t already been said.”
“Does it matter? I just need to see you, to be able to say goodbye or whatever, I can’t just leave it like this. I need to close it off properly.” He pleaded.
“Look Paul, I just got up, can we meet later, I need to gets some breakfast and tidy up a bit?” This wasn’t going to go away and I needed to see him too. I needed to tell him… Something.
“Ok,” he sounded relieved and like he let out the breath he’d been holding. “When?”
“About an hour say — I’ll meet you in ‘Grounds’ (coffee place)” I felt sweaty and panicky but I needed to do this.
“Ok — That’s 10 o’clock?” Needing confirmation.
“Yeah, ten,” I tried to smile into the phone, “Bye now”.
“OH GOD, what do I do?” I said quite loudly, at no one.
Mum came out of the dining room. “About what honey?”
“That was Paul.”
“Oh.” She paused and followed it with, “I should have asked, sorry darling.”
“That’s Ok mum, I need to close it off properly, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to.”
“I can see your dilemma.” Mum placed her hand on my back as she approached me and I felt the warmth seep in.
“I’m going to tell him,” It wasn’t with resolve, but it was with desperation. “Everything.”
“Is that a good idea do you think?” Mum sounded surprised but not averse. She wanted it to come from my own mouth.
“Well it’s damage limitation really — in 6 weeks or so we’ll be off to Australia and I’ll never see him again and I’ll never know if he’d accept me as Jenny nee Jerry. I need to feel I’ve not made the biggest mistake of my life.”
“Yes, there is that.” Mum acceded and said, “I’ll put the kettle on.”
I headed back up for a shower and to make myself pretty. Exercises can wait til later.
50 minutes later I found myself walking into ‘Grounds’ and looking for that light coloured mop that Paul called hair over the tops of the booths.
“Hi,” I turned surprised, he was stood next to me. I coloured up, suddenly afraid of the next few minutes and what they held.
“Hello Paul,” I smiled and looked down at his hands — he was fidgeting. I always liked his hands.
He held one out and said, “C’mon, let’s go for a little walk, I don’t ant to talk in here.” I acquiesced and followed him out the door.
We turned towards the little park by the war memorial and somehow found my hand in his as we walked.
“How’ve you been?” It was a poor conversation started but it would have to do.
Paul answered, “Desolate. You?”
“Same.” I answered lamely.
“Then why?” the words were snapped but not cruelly just with such pain that they hit me between the eyes.
“I’ll tell you, but you have to make me a promise? I shouldn’t ask it, but I would never be able to tell him if I didn’t.
“Promise what?” He sounded intrigued now.
“That you keep it to yourself.” I sounded like I felt, really unsure.
“Ok, I promise that whatever you tell me I will be between you me and the park bench.” He walked over to it and sat down patting the space next to him.
“Come on, it can’t be that bad.” He smiled that beautiful smile. I almost turned and ran.
I sat and his arm slipped round me. “Don’t Paul; this is hard enough without that.”
His arm moved away his face looking so forlorn that I almost kissed him.
“There’s no easy way to say this Paul so I’m going to tell you a little story.”
He looked at me with his brows knitted together.
“Once upon a time there was a family that had a mum and a dad and two sons. One day one of the sons found out he was ill so he went to the doctor.” Paul looked at me and bit his lip, “Go on.”
Well this boy was told he wasn’t a boy at all and had to have an operation to make him a girl that she had really been all along.”
Paul was starting to smirk. “Paul, this is serious.”
“Oh God I can’t believe it, I was right.” He started to grin.
“Paul I’m trying to get this out, will you give me a chance?” I was getting hysterical.
“Jenny, it’s ok, honestly.” Paul put his arm back round me and pulled me into him. “I do love you you know? Non of that matters.
I pulled back from him to see his face,” What do you mean?”
“When I first met you, I was beginning to think I was gay. In you I’d found the prefect substitute for the Boy I sat next to in class, the one I fell secretly in love with. I couldn’t bear it, you were so like him as well. So I fell in love with you and thought thank God, I’m not gay.” He was starting to hiccup and giggle. Talking very quickly.
“Paul…. What are you talking about?” Now I was getting wound up.
“You’re trying to tell me you used to be Jerry aren’t you” he was looking into my eyes, holding both my shoulders so I couldn’t avoid him.
“How…? I don’t understand.” I was totally dumbfounded.
“Jerry, Jenny, I’ve been in love with you for three years.” He pulled me to him and held me close.
Suddenly I was released from that tight band round my chest. I almost screamed. It was ok, I didn’t have to lose him. He knew who I was and he not only loved me anyway, he’d always loved me. EVEN WHEN I WAS JERRY.
I couldn’t speak. I just held him and he held me and the world went away for ages. I’ve no idea how long.
“Jenny… Jenny.. hoy…!!”
I felt a poke on my shoulder and looked up suddenly to find not only was I in Paul’s arms, Wendy was there looking at me like I had bananas growing from my ear.
“What on Earth is going on?”
I sat back a bit and Paul loosened his arms so I could take charge of myself. He was grinning from ear to ear. Or more like ear to there it was so big a grin.
“Wendy!” I almost squeaked it.
“Well it’s good to see you smiling again.” She looked at Paul and said, “You would not believe how miserable she’s been since she broke up with you.”
“Oh yes I would.” He nodded and pulled me back into his arms, “and she’s never — EVER- going to get away with that again.”
Well the outcome of it all, as you may well imagine, was a lot of chatter and self recrimination and hugs. In the end I was just a floppy, relieved and soppy chick with a nice boyfriend and some really good pals.
When I got home later, as I opened the door I heard mum and dad stop talking as if they were listening for my mood.
“It’s Ok,” I beamed. I rushed through to the lounge where mum and dad were nestled on the couch both suddenly smiling. I bounced up onto the couch and grabbed both of them and just held onto them “He loves me, hestill lovesme….. he’s always loved me….”
I felt dad stiffen, “What do you mean?”
“Paul… he loves… me even when I was Jerry.” I tried to explain. Badly.
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” Dad muttered frowning.
“No you don’t understand, “He thought he was gay. Then found me - a girl who looked just like the boy he loved — he fell in love with me instead, then he found out today we were both the same person.”
“You’re kidding?” Mum looked incredulously at me.
“God’s honest truth, by the time I’d told him we were both laughing and crying at how silly we’d been.” I grinned happily at them.
“We’ve both been so stupid not to make the connection and admit to it at the same time.”
Mom and dad exchanged glances, “So what happens now?”
I looked from one to the other, What do you mean?”
“What happens when we go to Australia.” Dad asked through gritted teeth like I was going to suddenly realise we’d be parted again.
“It doesn’t matter, we know we’ve got each other — it doesn’t matter how long it takes. We can wait that long.” I explained to my dim-witted parents.
……………………….
So that’s what happened.
We went to Australia, Paul stayed in UK and every holiday he could afford it he came out to visit or I went home to visit. Dad took him on in the company when he graduated from uni. With dad being CEO of the Australian arm, it wasn’t difficult to organise his immigration to Oz
Now Paul is Australian too and we have bought our home overlooking Moreton Bay. Nestled in tall gums, with kookaburras to wake us in the morning. Which is where I’m sat, writing this.
I’m just so glad I told him. When I think what may have happened……well it doesn’t bear thinking about does it?