As promised, I gave ‘the Runt’ a call the following morning. He was waiting for a bus to the Royal Berkshire Hospital intending to go ‘vegetable sitting’ at his mother’s bedside, but admitted that he would be serving no useful purpose by doing so. I suggested that I should take the next train in to Reading and that we meet up for a coffee and a talk, as there were some questions that I wanted to ask him. If I wasn’t happy with his answers, then at least I’d be able to have a look around the shops afterwards, so my day wouldn’t be completely wasted.

He was waiting for me when I arrived at the station at ten-thirty. This time he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and looked less like the ‘little lost lamb’ of the day before, but he still looked nowhere near his actual age. I was wearing my usual halter-top and jeans.

‘Hi Jenny, you don’t look so forbidding, as you did in the black dress that you wore yesterday,’ he commented in a jokey voice as we met.

Presumably this was a lame attempt to break the ice.

‘Me forbidding! Bloody cheek!’ I thought.

‘And you don’t look such a wimp, as you did in that suit and tie,’ I replied.

At least my response brought a little colour to his cheeks.

‘Where shall we go for coffee?’ he asked tentatively.

‘There’s a coffee bar in Friar Street near to the Market Place; it’s usually not too busy.’

(After all, I didn’t want to be seen by anyone I know whilst I was out with ‘the Runt’.)

We found ourselves some seats in a corner and I treated him to a cappuccino.

‘Alright young Julian, now tell me some more about this baby-sitting job. I want to know exactly what I’d have to do, where I’d live, and how much I’d be paid.’

He’d clearly been thinking about it overnight, as he now turned to a pocket notebook.

‘Taking those in reverse order, I’ll pay you  £200 per week, which is more than you’d earn working in a shop, especially as you’ll be paying no tax or national insurance, and you’ll have no living costs. You’d stay in the spare bedroom of our house which is quite large and well-furnished, but of course you’d also have the use of the rest of the house. Regarding your duties, I’d expect you to follow my guidance and sign any letters as we administer our father’s estate, and be prepared to confirm to any social workers that may turn up that you’re looking after me and ensuring that I’m not in moral danger. I should also appreciate a lift to and from the hospital and for you to take me shopping once a week. In return you could have the use of my mother’s car, although you’ll have to pay for your own petrol if you drive over to Bracknell. We’d share the cooking and housework on a fifty-fifty basis. That’s all.’

‘That doesn’t sound very time-consuming or difficult,’ I said; ‘are you sure that’s all?’

‘The duties are not exactly onerous are they? The main thing is that I’ll be using your name and your legal status as an adult.’

‘Onerous? Legal status? Where does he get these words from?’

‘Talking of ‘legal status’ — will you promise me that we’ll not be doing anything illegal?’

‘Yes, as far as our father’s will is concerned. What you do in your own time is your business.’

‘Did I notice the trace of a sense of humour there?’

‘One other thing you should know, before we go any further, I may not have a boyfriend at present, but I’m not intending to remain celibate for the whole summer, if I can possibly help it,’ I replied.

‘If you wanted to bring a boyfriend back to the house, I’d keep out of your way. I’d probably just go to my room as I’ve always plenty to do on the Internet,’ he replied.

‘What about you, do you have a girlfriend?’

I already knew the answer to that one, just by looking at him.

‘No, I’m a bit of a loner,’ he said sadly, ‘but I won’t be any trouble to you.’

Somewhat against my better judgement, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling sorry for ‘the Runt’.

‘In that case you’d better let me take a look at this spare room,’ I answered.

---

We took a bus out to Woodley, the suburb of Reading where they lived. On the way I asked for some more details about his family and my father in particular. What he was like? What he did for a living? How they lived? I love my step-dad, and have no regrets about his role in my upbringing, but it became clear that I’d have been somewhat better off financially if my mother had stayed with my natural father. After getting off the bus, it was a short walk to a largish four-bedroom detached house with a double-garage and a well-tended garden. It was secluded on three sides by conifer trees.

‘’The Runt’ will be quite well-off if he inherits this pile,’ I thought, as we entered the front door.

The house was comfortably furnished and not at all messy, other than a pile of opened cards and letters of condolence on a table by the front door. But the living room, with an expensive HD television set and hi-fi, and the large well-equipped kitchen, were both clean and tidy. Clearly my half-brother had done some cleaning up over the last week, which, given his circumstances, was quite commendable.

‘I’ll show you the spare room,’ he said, leading the way upstairs to a nicely furnished bedroom with a double-bed, built in cupboards, a chest of drawers and dressing table. It was more than twice the size of my bedroom at home.

‘This has definite possibilities as a boudoir,’ I thought, ‘and I wouldn’t have Mum breathing down my neck all the time, or listening out for creaking bedposts.’

‘Unfortunately your room doesn’t have en-suite facilities, but there’s a bathroom and shower just across the corridor, another one in the master bedroom, and also one downstairs, so we are unlikely to get in each other’s way.’

There’s plenty of cupboard space,’ I said sliding open one of the doors.

There were two dresses hanging inside, together with a pair of high-heels and a couple of other items of clothing.

‘Those are Mum’s, I’ll clear them out for you before you move in,’ he replied blushing a little.

‘She appears to have had quite modern taste for ‘a Crusty’ - at least she did so before she became a Vegetable.’

‘It’s not a bad room, I suppose,’ I said.

‘Dad used the room next door as a study,’ he said leading me to another slightly smaller room. ‘There’s a computer here with Internet access, a printer, etc. all of which you’d be welcome to use, or else there’s also wireless throughout the house, if you’ve your own laptop.’

I asked to use ‘the facilities’ as I needed to change my tampon, and in any event wished to inspect them. They were clean and fragrant. No-one had been dripping urine on to the floor or the seat. There was soap in the hand basin and a clean towel.

‘And you wouldn’t expect me to do all the housework?’ I asked as I emerged.

‘No. I promise we’d share it fifty-fifty,’ he responded.

‘What about our laundry?’

‘There’s an automatic washing machine, a tumble dryer and a rotary iron in the utility room. We can either share the work or else do our own individually, whatever suits you best,’ he answered looking hopefully at me.

‘And the garden?’

‘You’re welcome to use it for sunbathing. The back garden is fairly secluded and cannot be seen from the road. A firm comes and mows the lawn, and trims the hedges each month during the summer,’ he said.

Things seemed to be getting better and better. The wages were good, the duties virtually non-existent and the house was much more spacious and comfortable than ours’ was in Bracknell. There was also access to a car. Why should I look such a gift-horse in the mouth?

‘Alright Julian, you’ve a deal. I’ll come and look after you for the summer. I’ll have to talk to my Dad to see when he can bring my things over.’

‘Great,’ he replied, looking genuinely relieved at the prospect. ‘Do you have your driving licence with you?’

I fished it out of my bag and handed it over to him.’

‘Let’s get you sorted to use Mum’s car, as it has just been sitting in the garage since the accident. Dad’s car was bigger, but it was written-off in the crash.’

He went to a drawer in the study, pulled out his mother’s car insurance renewal letter and rang the number. This kid was amazing - so self-possessed. He pretended to be his mother, which was easy enough for him to do as his voice had not yet broken. He answered all the security questions without hesitating and gave her policy number. He then said that he wanted to add my name to the policy and handed the phone over to me whilst I answered various questions. Inevitably there was a sizable excess to pay, given my age and lack of driving experience, but he took the phone back and quoted his mother’s credit card details. Ten minutes later we had received and printed out a new insurance certificate, sent to his mother’s email account.

‘Here you are, but take care not to have an accident, I’d have some awkward questions to answer if they were ever to discover that she was in a coma at the time that your name was added to the insurance policy.’

‘I thought you didn’t expect me to do anything illegal?’

‘I’m sure Mum would have agreed, if she’d been able to so,’ he replied.

‘Oh well I suppose it would be you rather than me who would take the rap for this.’

The Vegetable’s car was a new Ford Fiesta hatchback — exactly the right size for me. They also had wonderful devices that opened the garage doors from inside the car, and closed them again afterwards. You could drive straight in to either of the two garages and then exit from the back directly into the kitchen. The garages were spacious and quite different from the tiny concrete box in our front garden with a creaking ‘up and over door’, where you could barely manage to squeeze in and out of the car and inevitably knocked your boobs as you were doing so.

---

It was still only late morning so we went out in the car and did some grocery shopping together at the nearby Waitrose Supermarket in Crockhamwell Road. I asked him what sort of food he liked to eat, and was relieved to discover that he wasn’t addicted to junk food like most kids his age. His mother had even taught him how to cook and he liked to include plenty of fruit and vegetables in his diet. In fact ‘ the Vegetable’ currently in the Royal Berkshire appears to have brought him up quite well. I could see our summer together working out quite nicely.

Julian paid for the groceries using cash, but afterwards went over to a cash dispenser where he used his mother’s debit card, and personal identification number to withdraw a further  £300.

‘Did your parents entrust you with all their financial details?’ I asked as we walked to the car carrying our shopping.

‘No, but fortunately Mum stored all her details on a file on her computer, including the access codes to her internet banking and her PIN. She rather foolishly used my date of birth as the password. I’ve been able to transfer the contents of her savings account to my own name and am now using her current account; otherwise I’d have been in financial difficulties. As soon as Dad died everything in his bank account became frozen until we can get a Grant of Probate. I’m taking cash from Mum’s account as quickly as possible and saving it in case she should die as well.’

Again I was impressed by the controlled and organised way in which he was bending the rules to deal with his extraordinary situation.

---

After lunch I dropped him off at the hospital and drove to Bracknell in the Vegetable’s car, taking great care at first until I got used to driving it. I arrived at home, parked in our drive and folded down the rear seats. I went up to my room and proceeded to pack everything that I might need for the summer from my bedroom. This included about half of my clothes, my makeup, toiletries, hairdryer, curling tongs, laptop, and a couple of my favourite teddy bears for company. I was just loading it all into the hatchback when my mother arrived and asked me what I was doing, and where the car had come from.

‘I’ve found a job for the summer as the guardian of my half-brother. The car belongs to Julian’s mother, but I’m insured to drive it,’ I said, showing her the new certificate with me as a named driver.

‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ she asked, in such a way that clearly conveyed that she didn’t think I did.

‘Yes thanks. This is where I’ll be living,’ I said, handing her a piece of paper with my new address and the home telephone number.

‘Well at least hold on until your dad comes home,’ she said coldly.

Reluctantly, I agreed, but for his sake rather than hers.

Dad thawed things out when he arrived, and I eventually made my exit from my parents’ house with reasonably good grace, promising that I’d call in from time to time and contact them if I needed any help. I also phoned the Runt and arranged to pick him up from the hospital on my way back to Woodley. By ten o’clock that night I’d installed myself in my new bedroom, and had eaten quite a respectable evening meal prepared by new charge.

The first few days of our living together went very well indeed. Julian didn’t turn into a helpless slob the minute a female took up residence, as I feared might happen. If he made himself a piece of toast he would sweep up the crumbs afterwards, put the butter back in the fridge and the plate in the dishwasher — relatively simple tasks that were beyond the capabilities of several guys I have known including my dad. We used separate bathrooms and only really saw one another at meal-times or when I ferried him to and from the hospital each day. He paid me in cash for the first two weeks of my stay and so I had some spending money, and he raised no objection on those occasions when I drove over to Bracknell to see my friend Susie in the evenings. When I told her the details of my new job she was quite envious that I’d found myself such an easy ride for the summer.

Susie was my one friend who’d decided not to stay on at school, instead she’d taken a job in her mother’s beauty salon in Wokingham (which is only a few miles from Bracknell) in order to learn the ropes, on the understanding that in a year or two she would take over as manageress. That was alright for her but wouldn’t have been my cup of tea; she was expected to go into work each day looking like a ‘daisy’, and spend her time trying to perform miracles on the sad, the fat, the middle-aged and the downright ugly.

Julian and I did spend a couple of hours together on Sunday afternoon when he explained the procedures for administering a will and applying for probate. It wasn’t as complicated as I’d imagined, and, in any event, he’d already done most of the necessary work. He showed me the various documents that I needed to sign, and the evidence that we needed to supply to the Probate Registry in Oxford. There would be no inheritance tax to pay as most of the most valuable assets - such as the house - would be transferred directly to the Vegetable, even though she would never be able to appreciate them. But even, so there would still be nearly £112,000 left — possibly more once the insurance claim was settled. One quarter of this would eventually come my way. I noted that my expected legacy had increased by three thousands in less than a week as Julian learned more about his father’s financial affairs. He had already obtained a letter from the doctors at the hospital confirming that his mother would be incapable of administering her husband’s will, and that I’d be applying in her place. My half brother seemed to know exactly what he was doing and so I signed where he told me, and I left it for him to sort out the remaining details.

---

It wasn’t until the Tuesday night that there was any cloud on my horizon.

‘I don’t expect to be home until the early hours of the morning, Jules, several of my girlfriends are going to a new night club which is opening in Bracknell.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,’ he replied. ‘I was wondering if you were going somewhere special.’

I had rather gone to town with my appearance, since I did not have the dead hand and disapproval of my mother to curb my enthusiasm. I was wearing my shiny silver boob tube, black leggings and extra high heels. As a rule, I don’t go in for a lot of makeup but my friend Susie had given me a free sample of a new crimson shade of lipstick and I’d treated myself to a so-called ‘volumising mascara’ out of my first week’s earnings.

‘Well, you never know, this might be my opportunity to meet that ‘special someone’ to have some fun with — a final fling before leaving for Nottingham,’ I replied laughing as I left.

However, when we arrived at the club we found the evening had been cancelled. They had not acquired the relevant licence in time and had postponed the opening for a week. My friends and I stayed for a while in a pub in town complaining about the awfulness of Bracknell, but I could only drink orange juice as I was driving. I tried to persuade Susie and a couple of the others to come with me to a nightclub in Reading, but they were unwilling to do so; they’d already made transport arrangements and were worried about how they would get home afterwards and I did not relish the idea of running a taxi service around Bracknell and its environs in the early hours of the morning. In the end I decided to call it a day and drive back to Woodley. It was only just after eleven o’clock and I wasn’t too pleased about my wasted evening and disappointed hopes. As I drove the car into one of the two garages, I noticed the light on in The Runt’s bedroom.

Unusually, my brother had left his mobile phone, charging, on the kitchen work surface, and it began to ring as I entered. I answered it then rushed up the stairs looking for him. His bedroom door was half open and the light was on, but there was no sign of him inside. Then I noticed a light shining under the door of the master bedroom. He was probably using the bathroom in there. This was no time to worry about politeness. I opened the bedroom door and walked inside calling out to him. I was faced by the startled image of my half-brother sitting at the dressing table, wearing one of the dresses that had previously been hanging in the wardrobe of my bedroom, together with a pair of tights and high heels.

‘That’s all I need, I’m sharing a house with a tranny!’

‘Julian, you’d better get yourself changed and wash off that makeup; someone at the hospital has just telephoned. They think you should come in as quickly as possible to be with your mother.’

(Next time - The Royal Berkshire hospital and aftermath.)

Julian quickly changed back into his jeans and tee shirt and I helped him to remove all traces of the makeup he’d been wearing, without further comment on my part. (It was just as well that, he’d not got as far as painting his finger nails when I burst in to the room.) We went to the garage together, again without saying anything. As we got in the car I cursed that I’d not thought to change into some more sensible shoes, but it was now too late, we’d wasted too much time already. I kicked off my high heels and drove him to the hospital in my bare feet. Fortunately the roads were fairly empty at that time of night, as was the hospital car park when we arrived. We were therefore able to pull up next to the main entrance a few minutes later. Julian was out of the car and through the front door before I’d even had a chance to retrieve and put on my shoes. I therefore followed him a little later and then had to find my own way to the Intensive Care Unit. By the time I’d done so, he’d been there for a few minutes talking to the sister in charge.

‘Mum has taken a turn for the worse, they don’t think she has long to live,’ he said, as I entered the ward.

There were tears in his eyes, and so I pulled him towards me and gave him a long hug, this time towering over him because of those stupid heels that I was wearing.

‘They think I should go and see her one more time, before she dies. Will you come with me Jenny?’, he asked with a trembling voice.

‘Yes of course I will,’ I answered.

‘I just wish I hadn’t chosen to dress myself as quite such a slapper tonight of all nights.’

We entered his mother’s treatment room.

‘I’m afraid it won’t be long now, I’m so glad you made it in time,’ said the nurse who then left us alone for a few minutes.

I saw Julian’s mother for the first and last time. She was a shortish, fairly slim woman in her late thirties, with a dressing on her head and an oxygen mask which presumably was keeping her breathing. There were various monitors attached to her and it was clear that her other vital signs were erratic. I felt awful, seeing her like that, because I used to refer to her as ‘the Vegetable’, and to her son as ‘the Runt’, even though it was only to myself. Life was so unfair, she would never now see Julian grow up, just because some idiot had been driving too fast round a bend and had crashed head-on into her husband’s car.

‘Why don’t you hold her hand,’ I suggested to my brother who was just staring at her without doing or saying anything.

He did so, and I took a few steps back to let him say his goodbyes. I then brought up a chair so he could sit holding her hand and another one for me to sit with him. She died shortly after one o’clock. The monitor alarm sounded and the nurse rushed in, then seeing the flat line, she turned off the machine, called the doctor, and removed the breathing mask. His mother had been a nice looking woman and there was a clear facial resemblance to Julian.

‘I’m very sorry,’ the doctor said to Julian. ‘I’m afraid it was inevitable given the seriousness of her head injuries.’

He nodded and then said vacantly, ‘I suppose I’m on my own now.’

‘You do still have a sister,’ I responded gently squeezing his hand.

‘I hope you don’t have cause to regret saying that Jen.’

---

There was nothing more to be done at the hospital in the middle of the night, so after he had a little time to get over the immediate shock, I led him away and drove us both to his home. He didn’t want to go to bed at first, so I made us a drink of hot chocolate and we sat together in the kitchen for a while, holding hands but not saying very much. I half wondered whether I should say anything about the unusual situation in which I’d found him earlier in the evening, but what would I say? I could think of half a dozen clever or cutting things to say, but for heaven’s sake, the poor kid had just lost both his parents. I’d leave it for him to raise the subject with me when he was willing to do so. Eventually at about 3.30 am I put my arm round his shoulder and gently led him upstairs to his bedroom to try and get some sleep. Before he went in to his room, I told him to wait for a second. I went to my room and came back with my large black teddy bear.

‘He has always been a great comfort to me in the past,’ I said handing it over.

He gave me a faint smile and took it in his arms and went to bed.

I doubt whether he slept that night, and I know that I certainly didn’t, wondering about what was going to happen to this strange young man whom I met for the first time a week ago, but whose life now appeared to have become enmeshed with my own.

---

Over the next four or five days I think I must have earned every penny of my wages several times over. I’d no idea there would be so much to do when someone died, and I was amazed that my young brother had already coped with the death of our father two weeks previously, largely on his own. The following morning I drove Julian to the hospital to collect the medical certificate showing the cause of death, and his mother’s belongings. We then went in to town to register the death. In each case the officials looked to me, as the adult, rather than to my brother; even though it was him who provided the answers, it was me who signed all the forms. He also knew the ropes and had the good sense to request five registered copies of the death certificate; we would need them all over the next few weeks as we sorted out all her financial affairs. At every stage we had to listen to the officials say how sorry they were, and then make appropriate responses.

As soon as we had a death certificate we contacted an undertaker and arranged for him to collect the body from the hospital and then come to the house to discuss the arrangements for the funeral. It was the same firm who had dealt with the cremation of my father the previous week. There were all kinds of little decisions we had to make about where the funeral would take place, the order of service, the hymns, whether we wished anyone to speak, whether there would be a notice in the press etc., most of which we left to the undertaker to decide. As far as Julian knew she didn’t have many close friends, just a few colleagues from work: her life had been centred on her family.

We spent much of the next few days on the telephone or writing letters notifying so many people of her death — her employer, various insurance companies, the utility companies, the local authority, her General Practitioner and a hundred other official bodies. I even rang the sister in Canberra and broke the news to her, and re-assured her that Julian was ok and that I was looking after him. Together we went to see the staff of her bank, to notify them and explain Julian’s awkward financial situation. There had been a joint account which had passed into his mother’s name when his father died. This would now be frozen until the Grant of Probate, although they would continue to pay the standing orders and direct debit instructions which his parents had established for utility bills, taxes etc. and also the account from the Undertakers when it came. They couldn’t offer Julian an overdraft facility in his own name as he was too young, but fortunately I used the same bank and so they were prepared to grant me a  £4,000 overdraft on the basis that I’d eventually be receiving a legacy from our father.

‘It’s just as well that I managed to transfer enough money to keep us going for about four or five more weeks, before she died,’ he said. ‘I just hope that Dad’s probate will have been granted by that time and so you won’t need to use the overdraft facility.’

‘So do I, but it’ll be a useful to know it’s there just in case,’ I replied.

‘I’ll have to start collecting the information we’ll need for the Grant of Probate for my mother, as quickly as possible. Unfortunately this time the process will be quite a lot more complicated and there’ll be inheritance tax to pay,’ he said to me afterwards.

‘Are you sure you want to do it yourself?’

‘Yes, I know what to do and I want to stay in control of my finances. However, I’m afraid it’ll have to be done in your name again.’

He was right. We discovered that we first had to get a grant of representation to myself giving me the right to act in place of the named executor — my late father. This involved an application to the Probate Office giving full details of her will, the surviving family and explaining that the only closer living relative who was of an appropriate age lived in Canberra. This had to be accompanied by the relevant birth and death certificates and would have to be supported by my swearing an affidavit. The process would inevitably take some time. On the other hand once we’d paid the relevant death duties, his mother’s will was straightforward — basically it all went to Julian. Because his mother had inherited the bulk of his father’s wealth, as well as her share of the house and her own personal savings, Julian would become a fairly wealthy young man once it was all sorted.

In some ways, coping with all of this red tape was a good thing for Julian as he threw himself into the task and it took his mind off his other problems. Once again he became the calm, intelligent and rather calculating young man that I’d first met at our father’s funeral. Over the next few days he spent some time on the Probate Office telephone helpline finding out what we would have to do to nominate me as the administrator of the estate. But there were times when he lapsed into a depression and a look of utter bleakness would spread over his face. I’d then try to take his mind of things with some lame joke or perhaps a hug.

---

As word got around about his mother’s death, there was a succession of visitors to the house; former colleagues, family friends, and neighbours, who came to offer their condolences and to ensure that Julian was coping all right. They all had to be given tea and the opportunity to say how sorry they were and what a dreadful tragedy had befallen the family. Most callers seemed to be relieved to learn that there was an adult (me!) on hand, even though, more often than not, it was Julian who told me what needed to be done. Even my parents called round to offer their condolences to Julian and to see that I was coping alright. This must have been quite awkward for my mother. I think they were pleasantly surprised to find me wearing a dress and even a little makeup. (I’d rather got in the habit of doing so over the last few days as we were never sure who would call next.) I also noticed my mother looking inquisitively round the house, presumably wondering what might have been, if things had worked out differently. As always, my dad was basically kind and understanding, if a little lacking in the finer social graces. As they left I walked with them out to their car.

‘How is Julian coping with everything?’ asked Dad.

‘It’s difficult to say, but on the surface he seems ok most of the time, but is still in a state of shock. I’m glad to be here though to keep an eye on him.’

‘I’m glad you are as well Jen,’ he said, ‘In fact I’m very proud of you.’

‘Heavens above! that’s the second time I can remember someone saying that to me in the last month! ’

‘When’s the funeral?’ asked Mum.

‘Next Tuesday, but there’s no need for you to attend.’

‘No, … it wouldn’t be appropriate,’ she answered, (my mother loves using that word).

‘After all, you only ever knew Julian’s mother as the woman who stole your first husband.’

‘I’ve washed and ironed your black dress for you,’ she said, changing the subject.

‘Thank you, I’ll call round and collect it on Monday.’ I replied, giving them both a quick kiss on the cheek - the first time I’d done so in about a year.

---

Then there came a succession of visits to the house by officialdom: the police liaison officer, who explained they were still investigating the accident but were waiting for the recovery of the other driver involved. A local clergyman called to offer consolation, as did Julian’s form teacher from his school and a member of the Social Services Department, all enquiring into Julian’s situation and his plans for the future. I could now see why he’d been so keen to install me in the house as his so called ‘guardian’ when he did, otherwise he would quickly have been carted off to a local children’s home, and given a short-course in glue-sniffing and shoplifting by the ‘inmates’. Fortunately, he wasn’t due to sit any school examinations that year and the summer holidays were only a couple of weeks away, and so it was agreed that, in the circumstances, he wouldn’t be expected back at school until the beginning of the next academic year in September.

The Social Worker spent almost an entire afternoon with us asking a series of detailed questions, about what would become of Julian, where and how he would live until he came of age. I did my best to sound mature and sensible. As previously requested by Julian I mentioned my applications for various part-time jobs in the area, but said nothing about my University place in September. In the end she seemed happy enough with our answers to her questions, no doubt relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with one more problem on her case-load. As I was eighteen and he was nearly sixteen, Julian wouldn’t be made a Ward of Court but rather left in my care.

---

During all this time neither Julian nor I made any reference to his unusual choice of clothing the previous Tuesday night. The incident became the ‘Elephant in the room’, which neither of us seemed willing to address. I was hoping he would say something so there would be an opportunity for me either to make light of the whole thing or else to re-assure him that it didn’t really matter to me what he chose to wear in the privacy of his own home; but he didn’t do so. I couldn’t think how to raise the subject myself without upsetting him further, particularly at this most difficult time. My memories of the night also began to take on an unreal quality and I even half-wondered whether I’d imagined the whole thing. However, on Saturday morning he announced that he would be going to Woodley Library to return his own and his parents’ books. I offered to drive him there, but he said he would be happy to walk and would only be gone for about an hour and a half. As soon as he left I had a quick nose into his bedroom. Sure enough there were a couple of dresses hanging in a corner of his wardrobe and one or two other female garments, but there was no sign of any cosmetics, jewellery, wig or anything like that. Presumably he’d been using his mother’s supplies of makeup when I burst in upon him last Tuesday. I noticed that he’d also bookmarked a couple of websites on his computer — nothing even mildly pornographic, just sites giving advice to the transgendered. There was no doubt that my younger brother was a closet cross-dresser, although apparently not a very confident or experienced one.

OK, so now you know for sure Jen, what are you going to do about it? I asked myself.

At that moment I’d absolutely no idea.

(Next time - I work out a plan.)

Thanks for all the encouraging comments and kudos for the first two chapters. I am pleased that so many people have enjoyed the story so far and hope they continue to do so. Louise

Saturday afternoon and Sunday passed uneventfully enough with no discussion or recognition of the pachyderm currently occupying a large part of the lounge. We’d rather forgotten about such mundane things as housework, laundry and shopping over the last few days and so used the time to catch up. We worked well together, each one doing their fair share, and by Sunday lunchtime we’d pretty well done everything. I offered to take him out somewhere in the car for the afternoon, to take his mind off things, but he preferred to stay in and continue working on his father’s financial affairs.

‘Julian, there's a number of things that I need do in Bracknell, would you mind if I drove over there?’

‘No, that’s ok, you go ahead’ he replied.

Apart from anything else I needed to explain to Susie and a couple of others why they’d seen nothing of me over the last week and why I wouldn’t now be joining them at the nightclub opening on Tuesday night. I also had to collect my dress for the funeral and pick up any mail for me.

‘You can come with me if you like,’ I continued.

‘I don’t know what my friends will make of ’The ru…’ my half brother, but I don’t really like to leave him on his own for several hours.’

‘No thanks. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright. I’ve plenty to do,’ he replied.

‘If you are sure, but you could always call me if you need me.’

---

On the way over to Susie’s house I called in at our house to collect my dress ready for the funeral and one or two other things that I’d forgotten. Mum and Dad were both out as they’d not been expecting me until the following evening. As I opened my wardrobe door, I suddenly had a good idea regarding Julian. There were quite a number of things in my wardrobe that I no longer wore, either because I’d grown out of them, or else because they were the sort of girly clothes that my mother liked me to wear and insisted on buying for me. I chose a couple of dresses, some skirts and tops, a silk blouse, a coat and some shoes that had hardly been worn, and put them into a cardboard box. In my drawer there was also a rather nice lingerie set which I’d never worn as they were a size smaller than I’d normally wear. They’d been bought for me last Christmas by my former boyfriend, who had ambitions of getting inside my knickers, but we broke up soon afterwards. I also found a new pair of nylon tights, which he could use, all of which I placed in the box with the other items, before loading it into the car.

‘There’s everything you might need here young Julian, I just hope you take the bait and don’t freak out. ’

---

I half wondered whether to say something about Julian to Susie when I saw her, as we usually shared all our secrets, but in the end decided not to do so in this case, or at least not until I’d a clearer idea of exactly what was going on. After spending a couple of hours with Sue and completing my other errands I briefly called in to see my parents again on the way home, just to re-assure them that everything was alright. I returned to Woodley at dinner time, bringing with me a take away meal for us both. It was a bit of a ‘cop out’ on my part, but it had been a busy day and I did not feel like cooking. I surreptitiously took the cardboard box of clothes up to my room, and then began to serve the meal. It occurred to me that my brother might have used my absence as an opportunity to dress-up once more, but if so, he’d covered his tracks very well as there was no apparent evidence. When I went upstairs he was working at his spreadsheet, surrounded by official looking documents.

The ‘right time’ for me to say something to Julian came the following evening. I am not sure why that should be so, but it just felt right. During the course of the day we received one or two last visitors to the house, wrote several letters and made lots of phone calls, as before. I’d taken on the role of ‘responsible adult’ and organiser of his mother’s funeral the next day, without really being conscious of having done so. I therefore had to check up on various details with the undertaker, the florist, and a nearby hotel to provide teas for the guests. For once Julian was happy to be told what to do and not make any decisions for himself in this respect. It was also his turn to cook our evening meal and at the appropriate time there was a great smell coming from the kitchen.

The dinner lived up to expectations and put most of my attempts to shame. For once, I quelled my natural instinct to crack a joke about the food. Instead I told him how much I’d enjoyed it and what a good cook he was.

‘Thanks,’ he said blushing a little and clearly surprised to receive a compliment from me, but appreciative, all the same. ‘Mum taught me. I used to enjoy helping her in the kitchen.’

‘You’re lucky, my Mum never had the patience to teach me anything,’ I replied.

He was about to get up and go upstairs and return to his spreadsheet, as it was understood that the one who had not cooked would clear the table and load the dishwasher. For some reason now seemed to be the right moment for me to say something to him.

‘Julian, do you have a clean shirt ready for the funeral tomorrow? Would you like me to iron one for you?’ I asked, trying to delay his departure.

‘No thanks I’m ok, I’ve everything I need,’ he replied in a sad distracted voice.

'Ok then here goes…, ‘

'By the way, there was a box of clothes in my bedroom at Bracknell that I’ve been intending to take to a charity shop. I’ve brought it back here in case there was anything you could use. Some of the stuff has hardly ever been worn,’ I said, nonchalantly.

He looked at me like a startled rabbit caught in the headlights of a car. It was almost as if I’d discovered him in the act of some unspeakable crime. For a second, I half thought he might make a bolt for the door.

‘Would you like to have a look through them?’ I asked in the gentlest voice I could manage.

He was silent for a moment not sure what to say; his eyes darted both ways as if to ensure that no-one else was listening.

‘Yes please,’ he whispered looking extremely embarrassed.

I brought down the box and put it on the chair next to him without saying anything else. He slowly went through it laying the items carefully on the table. There could be no mistaking my meaning. There was nothing in that box that might be remotely suitable for a teenage boy to wear.

‘B-But I thought you were angry and disgusted with me. I was worried that you’d want to go back to your home and leave me on my own again after the funeral,’ he said, starting to cry.

I got up went over to him and put my arm round his shoulder.

‘No Julian, I felt neither of those two sensations, I was just a little surprised when I walked in on you suddenly last week. If you feel more comfortable wearing those clothes around the house from time to time then it’s ok by me. However, if we are going to live together for the summer, I don’t think there should be any secrets or surprises between us. Also, if you’re going to dress as a girl when you’re alone in the house, it might be better to do so in the master bedroom, as the light is not visible from the road, and you could always leap into the bathroom should there be any unexpected visitors.’

‘Thank you for the clothes, Jenny, that’s very kind of you to offer them to me. Is there anything you want to know?’ he asked, hesitantly.

‘I suppose you could begin by telling me how long you’ve been dressing as a girl.’

This was clearly the one question that he’d wanted me to ask him, since we had first met.

‘I’ve wanted to be a girl … No; I’ve felt that I was a girl with the wrong body, for as long as I can remember. I was about eleven when I tried to explain how I felt to my parents. I think Dad was disappointed in me at first but Mum said she understood. I think that she’d always wanted to have a daughter, and would sometimes let me dress in her clothes and use her makeup when Dad was out.’

‘Why would your dad be disappointed with you?’ I asked.

‘I suppose he wanted a son to play football with, or to help him fix things about the house, whereas all I wanted to do was girlish things helping mum.’

‘He’d already lost contact with his daughter, and now he seemed to be losing his son as well. No wonder he was disappointed by both of us,’ I thought, remembering those unopened birthday cards, and feeling desperately sad for him.

‘I don’t think he would have been disappointed by you, but probably just needed some time to get used to the idea,’ I said. ‘I wish I could have known him.’

‘When I was thirteen, Mum took me to see a psychiatrist, with a view to curing my gender identity problems,’ continued Julian. ‘The only trouble was, that I managed to convince them both that I’d be better off living as a girl,’ he said with an ironic laugh. Dad wasn’t happy, but he was never unkind to me, and ultimately accepted their advice. ‘Unfortunately no doctor would agree to give a thirteen-year-old child female hormones, so Mum took me to a clinic in Thailand two years ago. They gave me a large supply of testosterone blockers to delay the onset of my puberty, and told her to bring me back when I was sixteen. I have been taking them ever since.’

‘So that’s why you look so young for your age,’ I thought.

‘Mum and I were due to go back and see the specialist again at the end of August so that I could begin my hormone regime on my sixteenth birthday. She’d even booked the flights and the hotel,’ he said continuing to cry.

‘But whatever did they say at school?’ I asked.

‘We didn’t tell them; they just assumed I was a late developer. Mum and Dad had agreed that once I began to develop breasts and they became noticeable I could leave school and continue my education on my own.’

‘So what will you do now?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know. As soon as I’m eighteen I’m determined to pay for gender re-assignment surgery and live the rest of my life as a woman. It shouldn’t be too difficult as I’ve never developed as a man. In the meanwhile, I’ll have to find some way of surviving on my own for the next two years, and, if possible, get hold of some oestrogen tablets so that I can start my physical development as a woman.’

‘Wow! This is all a bit more serious than I originally thought.’

‘That may be easier said than done,’ I replied.

‘I know. I hate the way everyone expects me to dress and act like a boy all the time when I’ve always longed to be a girl. If I could, I’d like to attend Mum’s funeral wearing a dress tomorrow, because she understood how I felt and she loved me in spite of everything.’

‘Of course your mother loved you, and your father did as well,’ I replied.

At this point he really began to sob. I was still in a state of shock from his recent revelation, but my heart went out to him just the same. I kept my arms round his shoulder until his tears subsided.

‘Julian, I really think it would be a little unwise for you to wear a dress to your mother’s funeral, given the fact that you’re still a minor and there are Social Workers sniffing around. I also think you need a little advice and practice before you should contemplate appearing in public dressed as a girl. However, if you can bear to face tomorrow as Julian, I’ll try to help you over the next few weeks,’ I said.

‘Be very careful what you let yourself in for Jen.’ I thought to myself, as I answered, but found myself continuing all the same.

‘Would you really help me?’ he asked, drying his tears and sniffing.

‘It is not too late for you to change your mind. ’

‘I’ll do my best, but not until after the funeral.’

A remarkable change took place in his appearance. For the first time since I’d met him Julian looked truly overjoyed.

‘Oh thank you Jenny. It’s so wonderful to have a sister,’ he said, throwing his arms round me and kissing me on the cheek.

‘I just wonder whether I’ll share that sentiment in a few days time. ’

‘Ok let’s leave your new clothes for the time being. You can try them on tomorrow after the funeral is over and the guests have departed, when we can do things properly,’ I suggested.

‘Alright I’ll take them up to my room,’ he said. ‘Thank you for everything.’

I cleared up the meal wondering just what I was doing, and whether I was getting out of my depth with my young charge, but I wanted to help if I could. I therefore spent the next two or three hours reading up on the Internet on the subject of transgender and its implications for young people.

---

I made sure that Julian was ready in good time and did my best to ensure that he looked smart and double checked with the undertaker the last few details of the ceremony and order of service. We sat together in the only car to accompany the hearse and in the front pew. There were no other members of his mother’s family present, just a few work colleagues and neighbours. His Aunt in Canberra had sent some flowers and a message, but could do no more. This time I was the one who was able to be calm and collected and I held his hand during the service. As his mother’s coffin slowly disappeared into the rear of the crematorium, he at last gave way to the tide of emotion that he’d been storing inside him for the last fortnight. He'd clearly been closer to his mother and was at last beginning to feel the impact of her loss. His tears were understood by everyone there, but I could see they made some of the mourners feel uncomfortable. I was quite relieved as I hugged him, that he was now beginning to act more like human being and less like an automaton.

After the service I remained at his side whilst we looked at the floral tributes and went round thanking the guests for attending, and listening to their condolences and good wishes. I had no idea who they were, but several of them shook me warmly by the hand and thanked me for helping Julian. The minister who took the services even told me what a fine young woman I was. It was a bit rich really, given that I’d taken the job primarily as a means of making some easy money during the summer, and speeding up the receipt of my legacy.

By four o’clock most of the mourners had left to return to their everyday lives and the Undertaker was anxious to return to his office. He approached Julian to explain he was about to leave.

‘Would you like the crematorium to arrange to scatter your mother’s ashes in the Garden of Remembrance or will you arrange to do it yourself?’ he asked Julian.

‘I’ll arrange to scatter both my mother’s and my father’s ashes together later on,’ he replied.

‘In that case you may collect them from our office when you’re ready. My staff and I have to leave now; would you two like a lift back to your house?’

‘Yes please,’ I said, taking over the decision making once again.

---

After they left us I took Julian inside the house, trying to think of something appropriate or comforting to say. The trouble is that I’m just not used to being nice and sensible for long periods of time, and I find it all quite draining. My usual conversational style is a mixture of sarcasm and wisecracks.

‘Are you OK?’ I said, realising as soon as I said it, that it was a trite and meaningless question.’

‘I’ll be alright in a while.’

‘Can I get you anything to eat or drink?’

‘No I’m fine thanks.’

‘Do you want to change your clothes?’ I asked, thinking that he could interpret that however he wanted.

‘I’m ok as I am thanks. I think I may go for a lie down if you don’t mind.’

‘Yes of course.’

‘But I would appreciate your help tomorrow,’ he added significantly.

‘I’ll be happy to,’ I said giving a weak smile.

---

I spent the evening looking at my friends’ and my own Facebook pages and responding to various messages from friends asking what had happened to me over the last week and why I’d suddenly disappeared from the social scene. It was only a week since my friends and I had gone out for our abortive night out, but it seemed like ages ago. At last, at about 10.00 pm I looked in on Julian; he was asleep on his bed cuddling my teddy bear. I covered them both with a duvet. It wasn’t late but I had too much on my mind to watch television or listen to music. In the end I went to bed myself.

‘It’s quite hard work being an adult. ’

(Next time - Playing 'dress-up'.)

Thanks again for the comments and kudos. Louise

The next morning I came downstairs to find Julian wearing the dark blue shirt-dress that I’d given to him, together with tights and the high-heels that he already possessed. He appeared also to be wearing the bra that I'd brought which had been filled to create the outline of two smallish boobs. He’d tried to comb his hair so that it looked like a girl’s style. All in all, he didn’t look too bad dressed as a girl, although perhaps just a little bit old fashioned.

‘I think that colour suits you, er … Julian,’ I said, doing my best to keep my resolution to be nice to him, at least for another day.

He coloured a little, but then thanked me for the compliment.

‘So you’d like to be a girl today?’ I asked.

‘Ideally I should like to be a girl every day from now onwards.’

‘I can’t promise you that, but maybe we can make a start in helping you with your transition.’

‘Yes please.’

‘However, there are a number of things that we need to agree first, since none of this was in the original job description that you gave to me,’ I said.

‘I could pay you some more if you want.’

‘I don’t want any more of your money, but I’ll expect you to take my advice and not take any risks with getting found out. I don’t want you to go out in public until I’m satisfied that you’ll not give yourself away or cause me any embarrassment.’

‘Alright,’ he replied.

‘Also I’m finding it quite hard work being ‘Miss Goody Two-Shoes’, all the time. If you want my help you must be prepared to accept my sarcasm as well. If you look like a tramp or a slut, or act in a mannish or an exaggeratedly camp way I’ll point it out to you in my inimitable derisive manner.’

‘Good.’ he said. ‘I’ll need to know what other people are thinking about the way I look and act if I’m going to pass successfully.’

‘So what am I going to call you when you’re dressed as a girl?’

‘Mum used to call me Julie, when I wore her clothes,’ he said. ‘That was the name she and Dad would have chosen for me if I’d turned out to be a girl.’

‘Julie it is then, and from now onwards I’m going to think of you and refer to you as ‘she’ rather than ‘he’ if you are dressed as a girl.’

‘In that case I’d better begin to do that in my narrative as well.

‘Thank you, I should prefer that,’ she answered.

‘OK Julie let us get ourselves some breakfast and decide what we have to do with the rest of the day.’

---

Over breakfast we agreed some ground rules, about what we would do and say if there should be an unexpected visitor to the house who was looking for Julian. Julie would hop into the master bedroom if she were upstairs or else into an empty garage. I’d then answer the door and say that Julian was out. If it was an official visitor I’d give them his mobile number so that they could make an appointment to see him. Fortunately the house had quite a noisy iron gate which would give us a few seconds extra warning of anyone approaching the front door. I then began to propose a strategy.

‘OK, so you look pretty good wearing a dress, but most girls of your age only wear dresses for a small part of the time. You’ll need to practice wearing different kinds of clothes and learn what style and colour combinations suit you best.’

‘Alright,’ she nodded.

‘I suggest we buy you some teenage girlie magazines, not so much for their intellectual content, but to give you an idea of what your contemporaries are interested in. There are several other things that we need to do to enable you to pass as a girl in public without giving rise to any suspicions.

‘What sort of things?’

‘You’ll need a few basic lessons in using makeup for a start. I’m no expert but you did rather go over the top when I burst in on you last week. You’ll also need some practice in walking, sitting and gesturing with your hands like a girl. The pitch of your voice sounds ok but you’ll have to listen carefully and take note of what girls say and how they react to one another. Then we’ll have to decide what to do about your hair, both in the short term and the longer term and also maybe your finger nails. However, I suggest we begin by sorting out your wardrobe to see what you have and what you’ll need to buy. Once I’m reasonably happy that you won’t give us away, we can go out shopping together.’

‘I should really like that Jenny,’ she answered.

‘In the meanwhile, how would you feel about trying on some of your mother’s clothes?’ I asked.

‘I don’t mind, I’ve worn some of them before and there are others I’ve always wanted to try,’ she replied.

‘Are you expecting anyone to call here today?’

‘Not as far as I know, I suspect that now the funeral is over the number of callers will decline quite rapidly’ she replied.

‘Good, in that case, why don’t we go up to the master bedroom and see what there is that is suitable for you to wear?’ I suggested.

I must say that my newly acquired sister has quite an attractive smile when she’s happy.

---

Before looking through her mother’s wardrobe, I provided Julie her first lesson how to put on some mascara and lipstick, using her mother’s ample supply of cosmetics and toiletries. I’m hardly an expert in such matters but I was better than nothing. I watched whilst Julie tried to do so herself and couldn’t help laughing at her first efforts but after a few of attempts she began to get the hang of it. She was a fast and willing learner.

‘Perhaps once you’ve a little more experience with basic makeup, I could enlist the help of my friend Susie, as she’s training to be a beauty consultant and would be able to advise you on your makeup, hair and nails much better than I ever could; as long as you don’t mind her knowing about you,’ I said.

‘Will it be safe to involve her in my secret?’ she asked.

‘I should think so. She doesn’t know anyone living in this area, and in any event I know a number of embarrassing secrets about her past which should guarantee her discretion.’

‘Alright then, you may go ahead and ask her.’

Julie’s natural hair was a mid brown and it was getting towards the length where it might just pass as girl’s, but we found a blonde wig in one of the cupboards which I helped her to put on securely and brush into some sort of style.

‘I must say you look better with longer hair, and quite foxy as a blonde,’ I said laughing.

‘Do you think so?’ she asked blushing, but also pleased with my observation. ‘How long will it take to grow my own hair to this length?’

'At least a year, I'm afraid, maybe longer' I replied.

'Oh well, I suppose it will be alright by the time I have my operation.'

---

It is some years now since I last played ‘dress-up’, and I’d forgotten that it could be fun. Julie and I spent an enjoyable day together exploring her late mother’s wardrobe and in the meanwhile getting to know one another a lot better. I joined in, partly by way of encouragement, and to help my sister overcome her diffidence. I even tried on clothes that I would never have dreamed of wearing in public, and would’ve been embarrassed to be seen wearing by my friends. We worked our way through the wardrobe trying on the different outfits and sharing our opinions as to how they looked, and making rude comments about one another. Julie seemed to grow in confidence and forget for a while the trauma she’d recently experienced. Her mother had clearly spent a lot on clothes and had built up an extensive collection occupying a large built-in wardrobe.

After a while Julie went to the study and returned with a sophisticated electronic camera and tripod, which belonged to our late father. He had taught Julian how to use the equipment, one of the few things they had done together. Julie now proceeded to show me and we took lots of pictures of one another in different outfits.

We eventually made three piles of clothes. Some of them were hopelessly unsuitable for teenage girls, and these were put in a bag to take to a charity shop, along with her father’s clothes. A few were a little too large for Julie to wear, although they fitted me ok. These she suggested that I take to my bedroom. I explained that I didn’t wear dresses and skirts except for special occasions, but she was insistent that I should take some of them in return for the clothes that I’d given her earlier in the week. A surprisingly large number of items were both usable and also looked good on my new sister. These were returned to her mother’s wardrobe, where they were combined with those that I’d given her the previous day. There were also a couple of long evening dresses in the wardrobe, which Julie was anxious to try on, but I suggested that it might be better to save them until such time as she was a little more experienced with her hair and makeup.

Julie’s late mother had likewise an extensive collection of nice lingerie, which would now provide her daughter with everything she might need for the foreseeable future. She even possessed two basques, complete with suspenders, and several pairs of stockings to go with them, which Julie had never seen before.

‘Shall we try one on each?’ she asked.

‘You go ahead but I’ll pass. I’ll help you to put it on if you like, but stockings and suspenders are not really my style’, I said.

‘Oh please Jenny, it’ll be good fun if we do it together,’ she said in a beseeching voice, that reminded me that I’d promised myself to be nice to her.

‘Alright,’ I said grudgingly, ‘but you must be the one to wear the lace-up basque.’

‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

---

Julie took off her dress and slip. I noticed that she must have de-fuzzed her legs and armpits — or perhaps the hair had never grown there as a result of the tablets she’d been prescribed. In any event, she looked quite embarrassed to be standing in front of me wearing only a bra and a pair of knickers. Then she removed her bra; inside them was a pair of silicone breast enhancers.

‘Where did you get those from?’ I asked.

‘Mummy bought them for me last year,’ she replied, ‘but they’re not really large enough on their own.’

‘I’ve an idea,’ I said.

I took an old pair of nylon knee-highs from out of the drawer and went down to the kitchen where I poured some rice into each one then tied it off.

‘These should be about the right size and weight for you, and as long as they are hidden from view they should be ok,’ I said returning to the bedroom.

She took them from me and inserted them into the cups, giving her a much more pronounced female form.

‘This time next year I hope to have the beginnings of my own breasts, but in the meanwhile I could order a pair of silicone breast forms by mail order, there are several sites on the Internet that sell them.’

‘I thought you weren’t able to use your mother’s bank account any more.’

‘We haven’t yet cancelled her credit card. Mummy had a direct debit with the bank to automatically pay off the balance and so they’ll never know.’

‘I’m not sure that it would be legal but I suppose it’s up to you to decide,’ I replied.

I made my sister pay for wanting me to try on a basque by ensuring that I’d laced her up tightly, to produce quite a feminine looking waist to match her impressive new bust line. Julie didn’t object, and even seemed quite pleased with her new figure.

‘Come on Jenny, it’s your turn now,’ she said, pointing to the other basque — a garment I’ve never worn in my life.

I undressed as far as my panties, and didn’t feel at all uncomfortable standing in front of my sister, whereas the previous day I might well have felt a little awkward doing the same thing in front of my brother. She helped me to put on the other basque, and do up the fastenings. We then sat on the bed and each put on a pair of stockings, attaching them to the suspenders — another garment I’d never worn before. Somewhat to my surprise the basque and stockings were not uncomfortable to wear, but I wouldn’t want go to the trouble of wearing them every day. I went to retrieve my high heels from my room, and Julie found a pair of her mother’s to put on, it was fortunate that she took the same shoe size as her mother did. We must have looked like a couple of whores standing in front of the mirror in our sexy underwear and high heels, but it was good fun nevertheless. At Julie’s insistence, I also put on one of her mother’s dresses, and Julie put on the shirt dress I’d given her.

‘If you’re intending to stay as Julie for a while, why don’t you move into this bedroom, leaving Julian’s room for his clothes and other possessions?’ I suggested. ‘Ther’s everything here a girl might need for her dressing table, including a large box full of jewellery and trinkets.

‘I suppose it would be more convenient for me,’ she replied.

‘And more private as well, nobody outside the house can see into this room,’ I replied.

‘Alright I’ll do so, but there’s one other thing that I’d like to ask of you Jenny. Mummy had agreed that I could have my ears pierced once school was finished this year. She’d bought me some plain gold studs to wear the day before the crash.’

It was odd that when she was wearing a dress my sister started to referring to her as ‘Mummy’. Julie and Julian seem to be two different people.

‘Alright, I’ll pierce your ears and insert the studs, if you wish, but it’ll be at your own risk.’

‘Yes please, I’ll go and get them.

I sterilised a needle in a cup of boiling water and then obtained two ice cubes from the freezer. I froze each ear lobe in turn then quickly inserted each stud. She flinched for a second, and again when I wiped away the blood with a cotton bud soaked in antiseptic. However she soon recovered and was admiring the studs in the mirror.

‘Once the holes have healed I can start wearing proper earrings.’

‘Alright, but don’t be in too much of a rush to do so. I think we have made quite a lot of progress today as it is,’ I said as I stood next to her looking at her reflexion in her wardrobe mirror.

We were both of us wearing dresses, makeup and high heels.

‘Thank you, Jenny’

‘For the first time you actually look like a fifteen year old and even perhaps a little older. In fact you look like quite a ‘babe’ and I don’t think there are any more clothes that you’ll need to go out and buy,’ I said.

She was blushing deeply but I could see she was happy, so I took a photograph of her using my mobile phone.

Suddenly I noticed her eyes had filled with tears.

‘My goodness now what have I done?’

‘Whatever is the matter?’ I asked.

‘I do so like being Julie, but do you think it’s right for me to wear Mummy’s clothes in this way and move into her bedroom?’ she asked.

‘You said goodbye to her yesterday. I’m sure she would be very happy to think that you were making use of her wardrobe,’ I said by way of re-assurance.

More tears came flooding out, so I put my arms around her.

‘Oh Jenny, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me. The last three weeks have been so difficult for me, but today I’ve had such a wonderful time, and for the first time in years I really feel good about myself.’

I hugged her again.

‘All this hugging is getting ridiculous.’

‘Come on young lady! Let us get changed and go downstairs to prepare our evening meal.’

She agreed and began to wipe her eyes.

‘If I volunteer to cook the meal, can we get changed after dinner?’

I sighed.

‘You really are a girly-girl,’ I said.

She smiled shyly, and appeared quite pleased by my comment, which I’d have regarded as disparaging, if anyone had said it about me.

‘Alright, but you’d better change into another dress whilst you are cooking, and also put on an apron, or else you’ll spoil your nice clothes.’

---

After dinner we extricated one another from our basques, and both changed into a simple top and slacks. I showed my sister how to remove her makeup and to use a moisturiser on her skin. We also checked the studs and wiped some more antiseptic on to her ear lobes.

We spent the evening together setting up a new Facebook Page for Julie and mounting several of the pictures that we had taken during the afternoon. She seemed to enjoy creating a new feminine persona for her self and completing the profile as a girl.

‘I’m also planning to start publishing a blog, I’ll call it ‘The Diary of a Girly-Girl’,’ she said smiling.

‘If you do so, be careful not to say anything which might identify you. Remember you’re still only fifteen and there are a lot of very strange people out there’.

Now I’m sounding like my mother.

‘Don’t worry, I promise to be careful.’

(Next time - We recruit the help of my friend Susie.)

I was quite relieved that Julie’s choice of clothes the following day was reasonably restrained — the sort of things I might choose to wear. She’d put on slacks, a tank top, some white socks and a pair of low-heeled shoes. She’d retained the boobs that I’d made for her and I noticed that she’d also put on a pendant and a bracelet from her mother’s jewellery box. She was wearing a trace of lipstick and some mascara (again not too much), and had put on the wig again which she had brushed it into a style. All-in-all, she looked pretty much like an ordinary fifteen year old girl.

Quite a pile of letters arrived in the post that morning, most of which related to the financial affairs of Julie’s mother. There was also one official letter addressed to me, from the Probate Office in Oxford, giving me an appointment to come to their office in two weeks to answer any further questions relating to the grant and to swear the Oath. We could have applied for an interview in Reading but it would have involved a wait of three months or more. Presumably there had been no problems with our application so far, but nothing further could be done until after I’d sworn the Oath. I would then become the executor of my father’s will and have access to his assets so that I could pay the legatees, including the estate of his late mother. Apart from a couple of bequests to charities, the only surviving beneficiaries were now Julie and me. Although she had now largely completed the paper work relating to our father’s estate, Julie started work on drawing up the application for the grant of representation allowing me to act for her mother. As I was not directly related to her I would have to swear an affidavit, which would be then supported by evidence showing why none of her surviving relatives could do so. We arranged with the probate office for me to do this at the same time as I swore the administration oath. It was all very complicated and a little bit beyond me, but Julie seemed to understand exactly what was happening

‘I think it’s time for me to start listing details of all Mummy’s assets onto a spreadsheet so we can start to complete the relevant forms and work out the inheritance tax payable,’ said Julie. ‘However we’ll not be able to apply for probate for Mummy until after Daddy’s has been settled as most of his estate automatically became Mummy’s when he died. When her probate is eventually settled I’ll be able to transfer the house into my name and then think about putting it on the market, but that’s going to take a few months.”

‘What’ll you do then?’ I asked.

‘I’ll probably look for somewhere small and private to rent until I can have my sex-change operation,’ she replied in a matter of fact way.

I thought it best to try and change the subject as I could see there would be difficult times ahead for her and I didn’t want to get involved too deeply in her long term future if I could help it. I’d my own issues to face after all. Fortunately, a text message came through on my phone as she was speaking. It was from Susie.

My day off - can U join me in Reading? Have sum news 2 tell! luv Sooz

‘Julie, since you appear to have plenty of things to do today, would you mind if I went into Reading for a while to meet my friend Susie, it’s her day off?’

‘No of course I don’t mind,’ she responded, ‘you don’t have to stay in looking after me all the time.’

I responded to Susie and arranged a time to meet her off the train.

‘By the way, will you be telling your friend about me or leaving it a little while longer?’ she asked as I was about to leave

‘She’s bound to ask how I’m getting on. Do you mind if I tell her the whole story?’

She hesitated.

‘Go ahead, if you think she might be able to help me and she’ll be discreet.’

‘I’ll see what she thinks. However, please keep away from the front windows in the meanwhile, and don’t answer the door to anyone. You may look like a girl, but there’s still a danger that you’d give yourself away if you met someone at close quarters.’

Julie looked a little disappointed by my comment.

‘Julie you’re doing really well, but you must realise that it’s going to take time and practice to get things right. You mustn’t rush things; otherwise you might give yourself away. It’s taken me eighteen years to learn how to act like a young woman.

‘And I’m still not very good at it!’ I added in my own mind.

‘I suppose you’re right Jenny, sometimes I do get over enthusiastic about being a girl, but it’s something I’ve always longed for. However, once I’ve finished working on the spreadsheet I’ll search the internet and look at some videos on You-tube and try and work out and practice how teenage girls speak and use body language.’

‘That’s a good idea, and I’ll bring you back some girly magazines to read as well. You need to immerse yourself in being a girl, but we must be careful not to turn you into a complete ‘bimbo’ along the way.’ I said, laughing.

‘At least not until you have finished working out how to apply for our father’s probate!’

---

Susie and I had a couple of hours looking round the shops together and catching up with one another’s news. She’d managed to find herself a boyfriend during the week I’d been away and was anxious to tell me all about him. She even offered to ask him whether he had any decent looking friends, who might suit me, but previous experience has shown me that decent looking guys tend to have spotty sex-starved midgets as their friends, so I told her not to bother until she knew him a little better. Inevitably, the topic of how I was getting on babysitting my little brother also cropped up at an early stage in our conversation. We were then waiting in a queue to pay for a top that she’d chosen for herself and might easily be overheard.

‘It’s turned out to be quite an interesting job, but I’ll tell you about it over lunch, if you don’t mind waiting,’ I said.

She agreed to wait, but it had clearly whetted her appetite, for as soon as we sat down at lunchtime, she was back on to the subject.

‘OK Jen, let’s hear it, what it is that’s so ‘interesting’ about this younger brother of yours?’

‘Before I tell you anything — you do understand that this is strictly confidential, only between us.’ I said in a tone that indicated that there was no question involved.

‘Jen, you can trust me. After all, I never told anyone when you got blind drunk at that party and we had to smuggle you back into your house without your parents realising.’

‘And I’ve never told anyone about your various escapades with those two Italian exchange students last summer,’ I replied.

‘Point taken, I promise that my lips will be sealed, so what’s the big secret?’ she asked eager to know more.

‘My so-called little brother wants to become my little sister. He has been taking tablets to stop him from developing into a man and was on the point of going to Thailand to grow a pair of boobs, when his parents were killed in that car crash. Now she wants me to help her to live as a girl named Julie.’

‘Good heavens. How extraordinary. Who else knows about this?’ asked Sue.

‘That’s just the point, nobody else knows about it except for me - and now you. He, or perhaps I should say she, is still a minor and won’t be sixteen until the end of August.’

‘And are you sure that she’s not going to grow out of the idea in a month or two and want to become your brother again?’ she asked.

‘I think all of that was gone into by a psychiatrist some time ago. Apparently she has always thought of herself as being a girl, in the wrong body, and now seems determined to live as a woman, come what may. She says that she’s going to have a sex-change operation just as soon as she’s eighteen, and she’ll have more than enough money to pay for one.’

‘I’ve heard about people like that, they are known as transgendered,’ said Sue.

‘Yes, I’ve been reading up on the subject on the Internet as well,’ I admitted. ‘It’s far more common than you might think.

‘But is it embarrassing for you staying with … her?’ she asked.

‘No, not so far, in fact Julie makes quite a convincing and attractive girl.’

‘Well good luck to her I suppose, but what are you going to do?’

‘Well, in a funny sort of way I quite like my new sister Julie and would like to help her, at least until I have to leave to go to University. I’d like to help her to live as a girl if that’s what she wants. She’ll be secure financially until she’s an adult but needs some advice with her appearance and the way she presents herself if she’s going to pass successfully.

‘You should send her along to one of my demonstrations, in the salon, I could give her a makeover,’ suggested Sue.

‘I don’t think she’s quite ready to venture out on her own as yet,’ I replied. ‘However, if you were willing, we could certainly benefit from your advice and assistance.’

‘What sort of advice and assistance?’

I shrugged.

‘You know - what clothes would suit her best, what to do with her hair, advice on makeup, finger nails — you’re so much more knowledgeable about these things than I am. I expect she’d be willing to pay you a reasonable fee for your time.’

‘It can be a difficult task to make a man to look like a convincing woman, I’ve heard stories from other beauty workers who have tried and not achieved the results that their clients were hoping for.’

‘I don’t think it would be so difficult in this case.’

I showed Susie the picture of Julie that I’d taken the previous day on my mobile.

‘Wow she doesn’t look at all bad,’ she replied.

‘I know, but I still think she could do with a little ‘fine tuning’ before I let her loose on the world.’

‘Alright. I’ll see what I can do, but I make no promises. When would you like me to make a start?’ she asked.

I shrugged.

‘Whenever is most convenient for you. You could even come out and meet her this afternoon if you want, and then I’ll drive you back to Bracknell afterwards.’

‘Alright then. I’ve finished my shopping for today, and this sounds as if it might be an interesting assignment.’

---

On the way to the bus stop I picked up some teenage magazines for Julie to read and sent her a text message explaining that Sue and I were on our way to see her and suggesting that she might wish to change into a dress.

‘You’ll need to be gentle with her Sue; my sister is a little bit fragile and unsure of her self at the moment and is liable to dissolve into tears at the slightest thing.’

‘We’re not all as hard-hearted as you are Jen. I think it would be quite understandable for anyone to cry a little, given her recent circumstances,’ she replied.

I didn’t reply, but felt a little hard done by. After all, I can’t remember when I’d been more considerate to anyone than I’d been to my little sister over the last week.

---

‘Julie, this is my friend Susie, Sue this is my sister Julie.’

Julie had put on a dark red dress and matching high heels; she’d also changed the colour of her lipstick to co-ordinate. She looked quite pretty, but still a little shy and diffident, as she shook hands with my friend.

‘Hi Julie. I was so sorry to hear about your parents.’

Julie nodded and thanked her.

‘I understand from Jen that you’d like some advice from me, but I can’t really see what she was worrying about, you make a very presentable young lady,’ said my friend, kindly.

‘Thank you, but I’d appreciate any comments or advice you may wish to offer,’ she answered.

‘Alright, we’ll begin by looking at your hair and work downwards. That’s a fairly good quality wig you are wearing which would pass in most circumstances, but it still looks a little artificial. Would you mind taking it off for a moment, please?’

Julie did as she was told, and in my opinion still looked like a girl without it.

‘You have nice thick hair that, but is not yet long enough to style properly. Would you consider wearing hair extensions until your own hair has had a chance to grow?’ asked Sue.

‘I hadn’t really thought about them.’

‘They would cost you around  £40 to buy and would either be clipped into place or I could sew them in for a further  £20. Sewn extensions would be more secure and also look better, but they would be semi-permanent, lasting between six weeks and two months before they need to be re-sewn.’

‘What do you think Jenny?’ asked Julie.

‘It rather depends on whether you’ll need to make an appearance as a young man during that period.’ I replied

‘I can’t really think of a situation where I’ll need to appear in person over the next few weeks. I don’t have any family or friends other than you, and we have never been particularly friendly with the neighbours. Now that the funeral is over I doubt if there’ll be any more official visitors to the house. If anyone does come looking for Julian, you could always say that he has gone away to stay with his Aunt in Australia, and provide them with my email address. Then I could either phone or email them back.’

‘Well if you’d like to try hair extensions and you don’t mind the expense, go ahead,’ I said.

‘It’ll be fun to have my own long hair to style,’ she said.

‘I’ll cut and style your hair when I put in the extensions but you’ll have to learn how to look after it for yourself and to put it in rollers,’ said Sue.

‘I’ll be able to help you with it to begin with, but remember that I’ll not be here beyond mid September so I’ll expect you to learn how to cope with your own hair soon,’ I said.

‘Alright, when can you put them in for me?’ she asked.

‘I’ll take a sample of your hair now so that I can match the colour.’

‘Actually I quite liked the idea of being blonde, if that is ok?’ said Julie looking towards me as if she were seeking my permission.

I rolled my eyes and let out a little sigh,

‘What do you think, Sooze?’ I asked

‘Alright then, but it would mean that we’ll have to colour Julie’s own hair first,’ she replied. ‘I won’t charge any more for my time, but I would charge her for the materials.’

‘Of course,’ said Julie.

‘Do you want the same shade as the wig you are wearing?’

‘Yes please.’

‘In that case let me take several strands of the wig so I can match the colour and also some of your hair so I can do some strand tests. I will have the extensions and hair colour by Saturday. Would you two be able to come to my place on Sunday?’ asked Sue.

‘I’d rather assumed that you’d fix them here, I’m still a little anxious about Julie venturing out, just in case the neighbours should see her.’ I said.

‘I’ve everything that I need at my house, and I’d also be able to extend Julie’s finger nails there if she wishes,’ said Sue to me.

‘I could provide you with a set of acrylic nail extensions and a manicure for twenty pounds,’ she said to Julie.

‘Oh yes please,’ she answered excitedly.

‘Julie, are you sure you can afford to spend this money before we receive your father’s grant of probate?’

‘Yes, Julian had saved a few hundred pounds in a separate account to buy Julie some clothes this summer, but it now it looks as I will not need to buy as much as I am wearing mummy’s clothes and those that you gave me.’

Oh well, I suppose if we do run out of money I would be able to loan her some from the overdraft which the bank had promised to me.’

‘Why don’t you have your nails done at the same time Jenny?’ I would charge thirty pounds if you both have them done together,’ Susie said looking towards me.

‘Oh please Jenny, let’s have our nails done together, I’ll pay for both of us, it’ll be such good fun,’ said Julie like an excited school kid.

‘Thanks a lot Susie.’ I thought. But Julie is definitely beginning to sound more like a girl.’

‘I’ll see how I feel about it on Sunday,’ I replied to them both.

‘But isn’t there a danger that your mother will want to know who the girl was who arrived with me wearing a blonde wig and left with extensions,’ I then said to Sue.

‘If you both come round at about ten in the morning, she’ll be out for most of the day.’

I sighed.

‘Alright, Julie we’ll go to Bracknell, but you’ll need to get in to the car when it’s inside the garage and keep your head down as we drive away.’

Both Susie and I received an excited hug from our young protégé.

‘Three whole days, I can’t wait until Sunday,’ she said, as she replaced the wig and brushed her hair.

I looked over to Sue and raised my eyebrows. She smiled in response, but Julie remained blissfully unaware of our amusement.

Whatever has happened to that super intelligent little runt that I first met three weeks ago?

We invited Susie to stay for dinner, and whilst I prepared the food, she took Julie upstairs to give her some advice and a demonstration regarding her eye-makeup, a topic where my own knowledge was rather limited. They seemed to be getting on well together because when I went upstairs to get something from my room I could hear plenty of laughing coming from the master bedroom. Eventually they emerged and came downstairs just as the meal was ready to be served.

I must say that my friend is very good at her job, for my younger sister might easily have been taken for a glamorous eighteen-year-old. She was wearing three shades of carefully co-ordinated eye shadow which, added depth to her eyes and complemented their colour. She also had dark brown eyeliner which defined her eyes, and long thick black lashes. Yet it didn’t look as if it had been applied using a trowel, as it would undoubtedly have done if I’d been responsible. Her face, and particularly her eyes seemed to glow with pleasure.

‘Susie says that once I have my hair and nail extensions in place, we can come into her store one day when she’s giving a demonstration. She’ll teach us about foundation and give us both a free makeover,’ said Julie, fluttering her long eyelashes at me as she spoke.

‘Let’s not try to run before you can walk,’ I said trying to dampen her enthusiasm a little.

I then felt myself to be a wet blanket as Julie expressed her disappointment with a little girlish sigh. The only problem is that I know too many people in Wokingham and Bracknell and wouldn’t want to have to explain why I was keeping company with a glamorous fifteen year old, and exactly who my companion was.

Eventually Susie was ready to leave as she was planning to meet up with her new boyfriend later in the evening. I’d promised to drive her home and we were about to get in the car when my sister appeared at the door.

‘Jenny, please may I come along for the ride?’ she asked in a pleading little voice.

‘Come on Jen, you can’t keep your sister cooped up in the house all summer,’ said Sue. ‘You have to begin to trust that she’s going to be alright.’

Julie looked so sweet in her dark red dress and sexy eye makeup that I couldn’t bring myself to refuse her.

‘Alright then, hop in to the back seat, but do try and keep your head down as we drive out of the garage.

I needn’t have worried. There was nobody around outside the house as we left and indeed there was nobody around when we dropped off Sue at her home, twenty minutes later. Before she left us we confirmed the arrangements to see her again on Sunday morning, and. Julie again thanked her warmly for all her help, and handed over forty pounds so that Susie could purchase the necessary hair pieces. She then hopped out of the back seat and came to join me in the front.

‘It’s only just 8.00 pm and there’s an hour or more of daylight left,’ I said. ‘Would you like to come for a walk next to the Thames at Sonning? I asked. ‘It’s only a couple of miles out of our way.’

Julie gave me a smile that lit up the whole car.

---

Sonning is an unspoilt and truly picturesque historic village on the river Thames. It is a great antidote to the rather characterless Reading suburbs where we were living, or the 1960s awfulness of Bracknell. People tend to go there just to have a quiet walk by the river or in the churchyard. There were quite a few people about that evening including several teenage lads who gave us both the eye, although, to be honest, I think my sister attracted more admiring glances than I did. I felt a little bit overshadowed by her and for the first time in a few years, I wished that I’d put on a dress as well. However, we weren’t out talent spotting on that occasion and so didn’t give them any encouragement. We were just two sisters having an enjoyable evening walk and a chat together. We may have been brought up in separate towns and by separate parents but we were certainly now getting to know one another. I was truly growing to like my sister but was also concerned for her future.

‘I’m glad that Susie is showing you how to put on your makeup, but don’t you think that hair and nail extensions are going a little bit far. What if you needed to appear somewhere as Julian?’ I asked.

‘I’d be bound to have some notice of anything really important, and so I’d just have to take them out or trim my nails. If anyone comes looking for me just tell them that I’m away for a couple of weeks. They would be bound to understand given the circumstances. Jen, I cannot tell you how important this is to me.’

‘Alright then, I just hope you’re right.’

Once again there was nobody around when we eventually drove back to the house at 10.30 pm and put the car in the garage.

‘Thank you Jenny for another wonderful day,’ she said giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

‘But I haven’t done anything much today,’ I replied.

‘Well in that case thanks for just being you,’ she said and went up to the master bedroom to take off her makeup and get ready for bed.

I smiled and felt a warm glow.

It’s quite nice to have a younger sister.

---

It was a lovely warm and sunny morning the next day. Julie and I were sitting on the back patio outside the kitchen discussing what we would like to do with ourselves, over a cup of coffee. Once again she had dressed herself and used makeup with care and discretion. I was pleased that she’d not tried to repeat her glamorous look of the previous night as, without Susie’s expertise, it would never have worked.

‘We’re going to need to buy some more food and other household supplies soon, would it be safe for me to go out with you again, or would you prefer to do the shopping on your own?’ she asked.

I didn’t really relish going shopping for groceries and washing powder on my own, but we had to live.

‘Alright, we can go out shopping together but it might be better if we drove to a supermarket on the other side of Reading where there’ll be less chance of you meeting any of your neighbours or school friends.’

She smiled.

‘Most of our neighbours commute in to Reading or London during the week and Julian didn’t really have that many school friends. However, if you’re worried, there’s a large 24-hour Tesco store near to Reading West railway station. Nobody that I know would be likely to go in there.’

‘Good in that case we’ll go there,’ I answered, relieved that she hadn’t suggested that we should drive over to Bracknell. ‘Let’s make a list of everything we are likely to need.’

There were a couple of people in the street outside the house as we drove off, but nobody appeared to take any notice of us. Likewise, our drive across Reading was uneventful and nobody paid any attention to the two teenage girls who drove into the car part of the Tesco store and found themselves a trolley.

‘I’m getting quite used to the convenience of having a car at my disposal.

---

Our shopping trip in Tescos took somewhat longer than I’d envisaged. There was no problem with the groceries, all of which we found easily enough. The main cause of our delay was Julie’s insistence on scrutinizing the cosmetics and items of female clothing on sale. In her previous life she’d looked at these products from a distance but had never felt able to examine them, much less try them out. I put up with it for a while feeling that it was one more experience that she would have missed, but after a quarter of an hour I began to sigh irritably and roll my eyes if she asked my opinion, so she took the hint, chose a couple of inexpensive items for herself and we made our way to the checkouts. However, I was soon to discover out that her delaying me had actually done me a favour.

‘Hello Jen, what are you doing here?’ said a surprised voice from behind me in the queue.

I turned round to see Joe Stephens from my class peering down at me (he was 6ft 1in after all).

‘Hi … er … Joe, I’m staying in Woodley for the next few weeks, with my sister Julie,’ I said motioning to her who was standing in front of me in the queue, and again wishing that I’d dressed a little more carefully that morning.

He nodded and smiled at her and then blushed slightly before turning back to address me.

‘My family moved here a couple of months ago but I continued going to school in Bracknell until the exams were over.’

‘That’s nice,’ I answered lamely.

‘Why is it that whenever I try to talk to a decent looking guy, I turn into a complete idiot?’

‘I’m glad that I’ve run into you Jen,’ he said, beginning to look a little awkward. ‘A number of our classmates are planning to go out for a drink tonight to celebrate the end of school, and the beginning of the rest of our lives. We sent you a message on Facebook, but someone told me that you’ve been out of circulation for a while.’

‘Yes, I suppose I have been busy, but I’ll check out your message when I get home,’ I replied, beginning to blush myself.

He hesitated for a second.

‘I’m borrowing my Dad’s car and have promised him not to drink any alcohol. I could give you a lift over to Bracknell tonight if you wanted.’

‘Are you asking me out?’ I wondered.

‘I don’t know Joe …, I may have to look after my sister,’ I said unable to stop myself from saying something so utterly idiotic.

He looked disappointed. I felt a sharp nudge in my back from the direction of Julie.

‘I’m nearly sixteen and don’t need to be “looked after” by anybody,’ she whispered to me acidly. Then turning to Joe she gave him a broad smile and said, ‘I’m sure Jenny would love to go with you.’

Joe looked at me for confirmation; I’d turned the colour of a beetroot by then, but managed to agree. He looked mightily pleased with himself. By the time we’d fixed a time for him to collect me, and I’d given him the address in Woodley and my mobile number, Julie had paid for our purchases and packed them back in the trolley.

‘What was all that about answering for me?’ I said to Julie as we were crossing the car park with our trolley.

‘Well anyone could see that he fancies you, and you weren’t exactly helping him along,’ she said.

I blushed, but didn’t answer and couldn’t be angry with her.

‘In any event he may have a younger brother,’ she said giving a girlish giggle.

‘Now listen young lady, you’re only fifteen, which is below the age of consent, so there won’t be any boys around whilst I’m responsible for you.’

‘My God, now I’m beginning to sound just like my mother.’

---

‘So what are you planning to wear tonight?’ Julie asked me over lunch later that day.

‘I haven’t really given it any thought,’ I admitted.

‘I hope you’re not planning on wearing those leggings and that boob tube again,’ she said.

‘Why, what was wrong with them?’ I said, but actually knowing the answer — they made me look like a prostitute.

‘Well I suppose they would be ok if you’re just going out for a drink and a laugh with the girls, but this’ll be the last time you see some of your friends for some time — you want to leave them with a good impression. Also, remember that Joe won’t be drinking, so you need to wear something that’ll intoxicate him with your beauty instead,’ she said laughing.

‘Is she making fun of me?’

‘Such as?’ I asked.

‘Well you looked pretty foxy in the black dress that you wore to my parents’ funerals; it’s no wonder that so many of the men in the congregation had their eyes on you. It just needs a bit of colour which we could add with some of my mother’s jewellery and the judicious use of makeup.’

‘What’s the world coming to? I’m now being offered fashion advice by my fifteen-year old ex brother? ... But on the other hand I suppose that I did look ok in that black dress?’

’I’m going to wash my hair this afternoon and then I’ll see what I feel like wearing later,’ I replied.

---

At six-thirty I knocked on the door of the master bedroom. Julie had just finished writing her blog and was watching You-tube videos about how to put on makeup. Nobody could fault her for lack of dedication to the achievement of her ultimate goal. She smiled when she realised that I was accepting her advice and had put on the little black dress.

‘You said that I could borrow some of your mother’s jewellery,’ I said.

‘Yes of course. There’s rather a nice string of cultured pearls, and a couple of pearl drop earrings that would like nice with the dress,’ she said.

I tried them on and agreed with her opinion.

‘By the way, how are your ears doing?’ I asked.

‘OK, they have stopped hurting and appear to be healing up. I’m just anxious to be able to wear some proper earrings and not just studs, but I’m not going to attempt to move them for a few days yet.’

‘It’ll be too warm to wear tights this evening, and so I’m going to wear some open-toed heels. Would you mind helping me to paint my toe-nails?’ I asked. ‘I’ll do the same for you afterwards.’

‘Yes of course, I’d love to help she said.

She trimmed my toe nails then carefully painted each one with dark red lacquer, having first used foam rubber separators to keep the toes apart from one another. I’d have been inclined to opt for a brighter colour, but she was adamant that the darker would be better and afterwards I had to admit she may have been right. As soon as my toes they were dry I offered to do the same for her.

‘Don’t worry about them for now, although I’d like you to do them for me sometime, she said. May I help you with you eye makeup instead?’

‘I only ever use mascara and I can put that on in my sleep,’ I replied.

‘Well I’m not sure that you always make the most of your good looks Jenny, if you don’t mind me saying so, and your friend Susie agrees with me.

‘The cheek of my younger sister, what does she know about anything?’

‘Susie gave me some useful advice yesterday and I’ve also been looking at You-tube. I feel sure that a little eye shadow and eye liner, you’d look a lot better,’ she continued.

‘If you can make me look as good as you did last night, then it might be worth letting you try.’

‘Alright then but I don’t want to go out looking like a panda,’ I replied.

Julie wasn’t up to Susie’s standards, but I must say she did a pretty good job on my eyes. I’d never used eye-liner before and I made a mental note to get some for myself and practice. She also talked me out of wearing the ruby red lipstick in favour of one matching my toes.

‘It’s a pity that we are not getting our finger nail extensions done until Sunday, otherwise you could have co-ordinated from head to toe,’ she commented.

I didn’t answer, but felt that between us we’d made a pretty good job of my appearance.

‘Wow. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress before, other than the school uniform; you look great,’ said Joe when he came to collect me

I smiled and thanked him, then went to say goodbye to Julie.

‘I expect I’ll be in bed when you get back, if you want to bring him in for a coffee,’ she whispered as I went to leave.

---

It isn’t my intention to go into a lot of detail of what happened between Joe and I that evening, but suffice to say we both had a good time. I stuck to orange juice in order to keep him company, but we found that we could have just as much fun sober, watching some of the others drink too much and make fools of themselves. I was a little anxious that I might turn out to be overdressed — but several of the girls present had made an effort — and my outfit elicited a number of flattering comments. I suppose I’ve always been aware that I’m fairly good looking, although no raving beauty. However, I had the feeling that, for one night at least, I’d gone up a league in the estimation of several of those present. It is remarkable how just knowing that you look good can boost your self-confidence in social situations.

Joe drove me home at about 2.00am and came in for a coffee, and he asked if he could see me again during the next week. I did my best to play it cool and suggested we go out for a drink the following Tuesday night. It had definitely been a successful night. Yet there was an unspoken understanding between us that any relationship would be going nowhere long term — after all he would be going to Exeter University in September, and me to Nottingham, which is more than 200 miles away. But there was no reason why we couldn’t have some fun together in the meanwhile. I looked in on Julie after he left; she was asleep on her back, wearing one of her mother’s nightdresses.

Julie insisted on having a blow-by-blow account of my evening, over breakfast the next morning. I humoured her regarding the early part, describing the drunken antics of some of the idiots in my class. Of course I didn’t go into too much detail about what happened later on; she was only fifteen, after all, and I didn’t want her getting too many ideas, or to be accused of leading her astray. I was just trying to avoid saying anything incriminating when there was a loud knock at the door. Neither of us had noticed that the garden gate had been opened previously. It was a Saturday morning and so unlikely to be any official visitor, but I had this horror in case my parents should suddenly take it in their heads to call on us. I motioned Julie to go out of the kitchen and into the empty garage, before I went to see who was there. In fact, I needn’t have worried. It was only the postman who had several business letters plus a plain looking parcel addressed to Julie’s mother, which I had to sign for. I then called her back into the kitchen and handed over the post and the package.

‘I expect it’s my breast forms and the gaff. I ordered them via the Internet on Thursday morning,’ she said enthusiastically.

She opened a cardboard box and took out two oval artificial breasts, an aerosol can containing the adhesive, a plastic bottle containing a solvent together with an instruction booklet. She also unwrapped a small white elastic belt-like garment.

‘What’s that?’ I asked.

‘It’s called a gaff, it’s for tucking my ‘unwanted bits’ away out of sight, and so that I can wear tight clothes without giving the game away. They’re worn by professional female impersonators. I’ve recently learned how to push my testicles back into the cavity from which they descended and then to flatten my penis and fold it back between my legs.’

‘Doesn’t it hurt?’ I asked, somewhat bemused by the idea.

‘No, my penis has never really grown to be very large and I no longer get erections since I started taking those pills.’

Julian had truly been different from other young men, who appeared obsessed with enlarging their penises, if the contents of my email inbox was anything to go by.

‘If you like, I’ll put it on and show you how it works,’ my sister continued.

‘I’ve no particular wish for a demonstration, but you are clearly anxious to do so.’

She disappeared to her new bedroom room, whilst I read the instruction booklet for her new breasts, for want of anything else to do. Five minutes later she came back wearing crop top and a tight bikini bottom. There was no sign of any bulge underneath.

‘Isn’t that uncomfortable?

‘Not really, and you have to be prepared to suffer a little in the interests of looking good.’

‘Won’t there be any side effects to taking these pills?’ I asked.

‘They were all explained to me by the doctor, when I started. I won’t be able to father children, but I’m absolutely sure that I’ve no wish to.’

This was a topic I knew nothing about and could offer her no advice, but was glad that I hadn’t been around when she had taken that irrevocable decision.

No wonder my father was hoping to re-establish contact with me, I was his only chance of any grandchildren.

‘I suppose it’s your life and your body,’ I replied, trying not to sound shocked by her revelations.

She smiled ruefully at me and went back to examining her new breast forms.

Clearly my sister was having to make important sacrifices in order to achieve her object in life. I just hope they ultimately prove to have been worthwhile for her. However, she seemed such a sweet little thing and so enthusiastic about her new life, despite everything she had been through recently, that I couldn’t help but like her. There was an awkward silence for a little while, with no-one knowing what to say next. In the end Julie restarted the conversation.

‘Jenny, you know you offered to help me with my toe nails last night, would you mind helping with these instead?’

She said this in such a wide-eyed and endearing way, that I felt myself being wound round her little finger.

You really are learning fast young lady! I thought to myself.

‘Yet another thing that was never in my original job specification,’ I said in mock exasperation. ‘Come on then, let me have a look at the instructions.’

---

By the time we’d finished over an hour later Julie had two respectable sized silicone breasts stuck firmly to her chest with the joins disguised using a skin coloured foundation from her mother’s makeup drawer. Fortunately she’d been fairly restrained and had only ordered a ‘B’ size, which was about right for her age and height. Her new boobs would never have been mistaken for the real thing if she’d been topless, but the weight of them did have the effect of pulling down her own flesh and creating the semblance of a genuine cleavage. Once she’d put on a bra and I’d adjusted it properly, no-one looking would have known they were not real breasts. She would now be able to wear a fairly low-cut top or perhaps even her mother’s strapless dress without too much danger of discovery.

‘I must say they look like the real thing, but I’m afraid they will be a little difficult and painful for you to take off, each night’ I suggested.

‘I know, but they’re supposed to be alright to keep in place for up to a fortnight at a time,’ she replied. ‘So I’m not intending to take them off before I absolutely have to.’

‘I just hope that nobody comes looking for you in the meanwhile,’ I said shaking my head, and thinking how I might best prevent Mum and Dad from coming over.

She smiled.

‘I do too, but once I’m sixteen it’ll be up to me to dress how I like, and nobody will be able to stop me.’

Roll on that day, I thought, but suspected I might miss her when it was time to go.

Julie went to her room to put on the bikini top that correspond with the bottom that she was already wearing.

‘How do I look?’ she asked when she returned.

She was a little lacking in feminine curves around her waist and hips, but from the chest upwards she definitely looked like a pretty young girl.

‘You look fine.’

‘I expect once you start taking female hormones things will begin to change down below as well.

‘Would it be safe for us to go sunbathing in the back garden this morning?’ she asked.

I smiled and shook my head at her enthusiasm for all things girly.

‘Alright, but we’ll have to put on some sun block. I’ll go and change myself, and then I’ll paint your toenails for you if you like.’

‘Oh, yes please,’ she replied enthusiastically.

---

Joe telephoned me during the course of the morning, whilst we were both sunbathing. He rang for no particular reason, just to say that he’d really enjoyed the previous evening and was looking forwards to seeing me next week. I work on the assumption that guys are only after one thing and will usually ‘do a runner’ once they’ve achieved their object, so it is always gratifying when they phone the next day. At first we were a little awkward talking together, but I managed to break the ice between us by cracking a couple of jokes at his expense and thereafter we chatted happily for ten minutes or so. He even asked me what I was doing over the weekend. I liked him a lot but didn’t want him to think I was desperate, so I said that I might be going out shopping with my sister that afternoon and that we were going over to see my friend Susie in Bracknell tomorrow to get our nails done. I did however offer him a ‘window’ in my social calendar on Sunday evening, if he was free, but it turned out that he was involved in some family gathering, and I wasn’t ready to ‘meet the parents’. In the end we simply confirmed our original arrangements that he would pick me up on Tuesday evening, but it was nice to be asked.

‘I trust you’re planning on taking me somewhere nice on Tuesday,’ I said.

‘I will do if you look as good as you did last night,’ he replied.

‘You’ll just have to wait and see,’ I replied laughing, and rang off.

So he had noticed the difference!

‘Oh goody, so we’re going out shopping again, this afternoon,’ said Julie, who’d been listening to my conversation whilst pretending to read one of her magazines.

I sighed.

‘As long as you’re careful not to give yourself away. You may look and sound the part most of the time, but I’m still anxious in case someone should recognise you.’

‘I’m doing my best,’ she replied, just a little deflated.

‘I know you are, and you’re doing very well, but please just take it steady.’

‘So what do you need to buy this afternoon?’ asked Julie changing the subject.

‘Nothing really, but I’d better decide what I’m going to wear when I go out with Joe again on Tuesday evening.’

I knew this was a topic which would enthuse her.

‘Why don’t you have another look at those dresses of my mother’s that I gave to you, otherwise we’ll have to go out and buy you something?’

Whereas two weeks ago I’d have dismissed any thought of wearing a dress on a date, on this occasion I didn’t argue. My sister, despite her age and lack of experience, seemed to know what she was talking about. I’d noticed a light blue summer dress amongst those that she’d passed to me which I liked. I decided to try it on and we both agreed that it suited me quite well.

‘Do you have any suitable shoes to go with it?’ she asked.

‘Not really, I could wear my sandals I suppose,’ I suggested.

I tried them on, but could tell that they didn’t really look right and in any event had flat heels, which meant I would just about come up to the level of Joe’s arm-pit.

‘My mother’s shoes will all be too small for you. Why don’t you buy yourself a new pair?‘ she asked.

I had been earning good money and not spending very much recently, so I couldn’t very well argue.

‘Alright we’ll try and find me some shoes,’

‘I’d also like to buy a couple of new bras to fit my newly enhanced breasts,’ she said in a matter of fact way - as if they were the most natural thing in the world for her to be purchasing.

‘OK’

‘So where shall we go shopping? Bracknell?’

Bracknell was the last place I wanted to go, as I had visions of running into my mother or one of my former school friends or neighbours. and then having to explain who the young girl accompanying me was. It was even a slight possibility I would do so in Reading

‘How about Maidenhead?’ I suggested. There are some decent shoe shops there.

She didn’t argue, just pleased to be let out of the house one more time.

‘Should I put a dress on to go out?’ she asked.

‘That’s up to you, but I’m going in jeans and a top,’ I replied.

I might have guessed, she did put on a flowery summer dress that showed just a hint of her new cleavage without there being any danger of it being recognised. She also put on a little makeup, and succeeded in making me look a little dowdy in comparison; but I was not going to be influenced too much by my sister. After all, we were only going out shopping, not on the look out for talent.

---

Maidenhead is a medium-sized town, also on the river Thames, about nine miles from Woodley. It’s a little bit ‘stuck up’ compared to Reading or Bracknell, but is not nearly as bad as Henley in that respect, and doesn’t have so many tourists as Windsor. It’s not really in the same league as Reading as a shopping centre but I suppose it comes a reasonable second, and is nowhere near as busy. The main thing was that we were both unlikely to meet anyone we knew there.

We had an enjoyable afternoon visiting various shoe shops and also a couple of department stores. We both tried on several pairs of shoes and eventually I found exactly the right ones to go with the blue dress — some matching ‘peep toe’ court shoes with leather uppers and a platform sole. At  £35.00 they were quite a bargain. Perhaps the heels were a little on the high side for everyday wear, but Joe was a big bloke, and I’d need all the height I could get. Julie also bought several items of underwear, without spending too much money, conscious that she would be spending quite a bit the following day on her nails and hair extensions.

During all this time I did my best to look at my sister’s demeanour to assess whether or not she would be likely to be ‘read’ by anyone she met. At first sight, she certainly looked like a girl, but knowing she was wearing a wig made me extra conscious of the fact — although lots of girls wear wigs. Then there was the question of her voice and her mannerisms. She didn’t sound or act like a guy, but on the other hand she didn’t really seem to act entirely naturally as a girl would. Perhaps this too would come with a little more practice, after all it was only just over a week since she’d become Julie. Maybe I was being a bit paranoid and looking at her far more critically than anyone else would. I wasn’t sure. In the end I decided that I had no worries about her giving herself away just by walking down the street or purchasing something in a shop, but I would still be a little anxious if it came to her having prolonged contact. I just hoped that things would be ok by the time I had to leave her to her own devices in September.

‘Julie, I know it’s my turn to cook tonight, but I don’t feel like. If I agree to pay for us both, would you mind if we went to a pizza and pasta restaurant instead?’ I asked.

‘That would be fine by me,’ she replied, happy for any excuse to show herself to the world.

We ended up in the ‘Pizza Hut’ next to the cinema in King Street, but Julie must be watching her waistline as, like me, she went for the pasta dish and loads of salad rather than a slice of pizza. I noticed a couple of young guys ‘eyeing us up’ as we were eating our meal. They seemed a little young for my taste and, in any event, I’m fixed up for the time being and I certainly didn’t want any additional complications as far as my sister was concerned. I gave them my ‘don’t even think about it,’ look and eventually they left. Julie seemed blissfully unaware of the incident and of her ability to attract members of the opposite sex. That is one more set of lessons she’ll have to learn in due course if she’s going to live successfully as a girl.

---

When we returned to Woodley I tried on my new outfit and received the approval of my new charge. She even loaned me a necklace and some earrings with stones to match, out of her mother’s jewel box. I’m looking quite the lady recently, I only hope that Joe doesn’t get the wrong idea about me and thinks that I dress like this all the time.

Whilst she was looking through her mother’s dressing table drawers Julie came across a large tub of face pack.

‘Do you know how to use this stuff?’ she asked.

‘I expect the instructions are on the jar,’

‘It’ll be difficult to put it on evenly by myself,’ she commented as she read the jar, why don’t we both try it out on each other?’

‘You really are determined to immerse yourself in ‘girlyness’, I commented.

‘Yes, I know, but it is such fun, isn’t it. Please try it out with me?’ she asked.

I gave an audible sigh to express my disdain.

‘Alright, I suppose anything for a quiet life,’ I said wearily.

I’d never tried a face pack before, and had always been a little bit put off by all the goo. Yet once it is on, it feels surprisingly comfortable, even if I did end up looking like a marble statue. We took it in turns to spread it over one another’s faces, trying to make the other one laugh, whilst attempting to keep straight faces ourselves. We then each placed a slice of cucumber over each eye and lay back and relaxed for half an hour. Once the goo had dried and then been cleaned off my skin felt really good. We both decided we would not mind repeating the process some time in the future.

Afterwards we both took a shower and used the opportunity wash our hair. For once I put some rollers in mine. I also tried to help Julie do something with her natural hair. It didn’t look too bad but was not quite long enough to style effectively and I could see why she was anxious to have the extensions.

---

In bed that night I had a look at my sister’s new blog for the first time. It certainly pulls no punches in dealing with her wish to become a woman as soon as possible, but at the same time it was far funnier and more perceptive than the diaries that I used to write when I was her age, and also somewhat more grammatical. Her last entry spoke of how much she was looking forward to getting her hair and nail extensions on Sunday. There were even a couple of flattering references to me, not by name, but once as her ‘Big Sis’ and another time as her ‘Fairy Godmother’. I suppose I was gratified, but at the same time I’m not sure that I'm ready to be anyone’s ‘Fairy Godmother’. I also noticed that she has already gained herself one or two regular readers, I just hope that she never gives away her identity, or at least not whilst I’m responsible for her.

Julie was up, dressed, had put on her makeup and prepared us both breakfast by 8.30 am on Sunday. I told her to slow down as it would only take us twenty minutes to drive over to Bracknell and Susie wouldn’t want us to arrive before 10.00 am. Also I’d prefer not to run into her mother, if I could avoid it, just in case word of our visit should eventually reach my parents.

‘I’m sorry to hurry you Jenny, but I’m so looking forward to having my extensions put in and my nails done,’ she said by way of explanation.

‘I’d rather gathered that from reading your blog,’ I replied coolly. ‘You do realise that once the extensions are sewn in, it’ll not be easy for you to take them out again. The same will also apply to the nail extensions, if you have them done. You’ll be taking two further steps along the road, to becoming a young woman, and together with the glued on breast forms, it would probably take several hours to change you back into Julian,’ I commented.

‘Yes I know, isn’t it wonderful? That’s why I’m so anxious to get going this morning,’ she replied looking me straight in the eye.

She had a gleam in her eye as she said this, but deep down I knew she wasn’t joking. My sister was single minded on this subject. She knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t going to be deflected. I tried to look serious but in the end couldn’t help smiling at her girlish enthusiasm.

‘Alright, as long as you’re sure that you know what you’re doing, I said.

‘Yes, believe me, Jenny, I am sure,’ she replied, more seriously.

‘Well, since you’ve chosen to put on some makeup this morning, I think I’ll do the same myself,’ I said, glad of any excuse to delay her for another fifteen minutes or so.

---

We arrived at Susie’s house at 10.30 am by which time her mother had already left. She had everything ready for our arrival.

‘Hi Jen, Julie,’ she said as we arrived.

Then turning to me she said: ’wearing makeup on a Sunday morning Jen? I can see that your sister’s been having a good influence on you.’

‘It’s nothing to do with me, she has started dressing more carefully to impress her new guy,’ said Julie.

I coloured a little and stuck my tongue out at her.

‘Now then ladies, no rowing today please. Jen, you can tell me all about him during the course of the morning. Julie, when did you last wash your hair?’ asked Sue.

‘I washed it last night and also again this morning.’

We both looked a little surprised.

‘I woke up early and knew that I wouldn’t get back to sleep as I was so excited — so I decided to wash my hair again,’ she continued as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

‘Well that’ll save us one job this morning,’ Susie continued. ‘Now take off your wig, put on this cape and come and sit at the sink. We’ll need to lighten your hair first and then colour it.’

Julie did as she was instructed.

My friend knew what she was doing when it came to colouring hair as she regularly did it for her customers. I just held the pot of dye or passed her the brushes, whilst I gave an account of my date with Joe, and then Susie gave us an update on her love life. Julie listened intently and, to be honest, we both rather ceased to be aware that just one month before she’d been living as a young man with two surviving parents. As a result we may have ended up divulging a little more grubby detail than we ought.

Just over an hour after we’d started my sister emerged as a natural looking blonde. The new colouring suited her and I’m sure if Susie had just given her hair a little more style and shape she could have successfully passed as a girl without either a wig or extensions, but I knew that wouldn’t be enough for her.

‘Of course you’ll need to touch up the roots every three weeks or so, as your hair grows, but Jen should be able to help you do that,’ said Sue.

‘Until mid-September, I added in my own mind, but didn’t say so out loud.

‘Here is the hair piece that I’ve bought for you,’ she said.

She produced one piece on a continuous cotton edge about three feet long and made up of strands of blonde hair about 18 inches in length.

‘The length of the hair is really great, but does the colour match my new hair?’ asked Julie, holding up the hair piece next to her own.

‘It looks fine to me,’ I said.

Julie sat in a second chair, next to a small table.

‘Don’t I at least get to see what’s going on,’ she asked, noting that there was no mirror in front of the chair.

‘It’s not really practicable as we’ll be working at the back and sides of your head mainly. I’ll try and explain to you what I’m doing but you’ll just have to be patient until we’ve finished, then you can look at yourself in the mirror for as long as you like,’ said Sue.

‘Alright then,’ she replied.

‘I’d normally begin by dampening your hair, but it is still a little damp from the colouring. Jen; perhaps you could help me with weaving the braids which will anchor the extensions.’

I’d never seen hair weaving before and didn’t know what was involved but agreed to help if I could. Sue carefully combed Julie’s hair upwards creating a parting that went round from one side, round the back and to the other side of her head, explaining what she was doing. She then used a band to hold the hair out of the way. Sue then took a small tuft of the remaining hair which was divided into three and she began to weave a narrow cornrow braid that followed her hairline. I took over from her whilst she started from the other end. It was a fiddly job, but I was making progress. By the time I had finished mine Sue was almost finished with her second braid which went round the back of Julie’s head.

‘Fortunately your hair is long enough to enable us to use braids,’ Susie said to Julie. ‘Jen and I will now sew them together and also to some of the surrounding hair stems to create one continuous braid that sits close to your scalp,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be using curved needles to avoid accidentally digging into your scalp.

‘Is there any danger that they may come out?’ asked Julie.

‘Not if we do it properly. We’ll be using a strong thread which matches your new hair colour.’

Having sewn the first row of braids together and to her scalp, Sue and I repeated this process two more times to create three continuous braids round the sides and back of her head of her head.

‘How do they feel Julie?’ I asked.

‘A little tight, but not too uncomfortable,’ she replied.

‘Good! They do need to be quite tight to begin with, but after a little while you’ll probably not even notice them,’ said Sue.

‘I hope so.’

Sue continued with her running commentary.

‘I’m now going to divide the hair piece into three lengths to correspond with the braids and then we’ll begin to sew the lowest one in place.’

Once she’d put in the first few stitches Sue asked if I’d like to carry on, and so I carefully watched as she did the next two stitches, and then tried a couple of my own. Sue seemed quite satisfied with my efforts.

‘If you’d like to continue with the sewing, I’ll make a start on her finger nails,’ she said.

‘Alright,’ I agreed, ‘but you’d better finish each piece for me and start the next one.’

‘By the way, am I doing one or two sets of nails today?’ asked Sue.

‘Two,’ said Julie definitively. ‘Jenny is going to have hers done as well but it’ll be my treat, to thank her for being such a wonderful sister to me.’

I sighed, but couldn’t very well refuse as she’d put it like that.

‘Alright then, as long as there’s enough time after you have finished her hair,’ I replied.

---

Sue asked Julie to hold out both her hands for her to inspect.

‘Your fingers aren’t bad looking, given that you used to be a boy, but the nails are not long enough to shape properly without some acrylic extensions.

‘I know,’ agreed Julie eagerly.

‘Will the extensions come off if necessary?’ I asked.

‘I’ve no intention of taking them off once they are fixed,’ said Julie.

‘Maybe not, but I might want to remove mine at some time,’ I said.

‘Don’t worry; there’s an acetone solution which is used to soak them off. It takes about twenty minutes,’ said Sue, 'although it would be a waste of money if you did so.’

The next quarter of an hour was spent by Sue in cleaning, shaping and buffing Julie’s existing nails, pushing back the cuticles and removing any dead skin. In the meanwhile I carried on sewing the hairpieces, interrupted only when Sue checked that I was still doing it right, or else tied off the end of the first piece and started the beginning of the second. As we did so, the three of us started chatting. Sue and I began speaking about former boyfriends, and moved on to clothes and other things. Julie again listened intently and taking it all in but also joined in from time to time.

As soon as the nails were ready Suzanne took out a set of acrylic nail forms from her drawer which she carefully shaped, trimmed and filed to fit over about a third of each of Julie’s existing nails, explaining what she was doing all the time. Once each tip was finished she painted a primer on to its surface and put it on one side to dry.

‘I’ll put some adhesive onto the underside of each new tip and on to about a third of your natural nail, ensuring the edges are well covered. We leave it for a few seconds then I gently attach it to your nail, rocking it into place and holding it for a few seconds, whilst pressing gently at sides to give us the most secure bond.’

Julie held out her hands and said nothing as she gradually acquired a set of new nails. By the time Sue had stuck on the last one, the first was entirely secure, She therefore shortened and shaped the tips and sides and blended the overlap as far as possible in to the natural nail surface using an emery board.

‘Once I’ve finished these extensions will be at least as strong as your natural nails,’ she said to Julie, as she brushed away the dust. ‘We now apply a coat of resin to your nails and the tips, followed by a puff on to them with a polymer powder, and then another coat of resin. Finally we’ll use a spray activator which causes a chemical reaction to harden the surface and will disguise any sign of the join.’

She carried out these actions on each nail in turn. Julie said nothing but just watched in amazement as she acquired some long, smooth and shapely finger nails.

‘Have you ever worn nail varnish before Julie?’ she asked.

‘Only on my toe nails, but I’m looking forward to doing so on my hands,’ Julie replied.

‘In that case I’ll give you a first lesson in how to apply nail varnish,’ said Sue. ‘I always use a base coat first. It evens out the nail and prepares it for the coloured lacquer. Once it’s on we have to wait until it’s completely dry, not just tacky. We then paint each nail with one straight line going from the base to the tip on either side and then another down the middle. Re-dip the brush if you find it dragging along the nail.’

She’d chosen a nail varnish that matched Julie’s lipstick.

‘I’m afraid you’ll now have to sit and do absolutely nothing for a few minutes,’ she said to Julie. ‘You need to wait for them to dry and then harden; it would be a disaster to spoil them at this stage.’

‘Thanks so much Sue, they look really lovely. I’ve always wanted to have long shapely finger nails and long hair,’ said Julie as she examined each hand.

‘Well in just over an hour from now you should have both,’ replied Sue.

---

Once I’d finished the sewing, Sue neatened off and cut off any remaining cotton. We then removed the band and clips from Julie’s hair and let it fall back into place. There was no sign of the braids or any indication that the hair wasn’t natural. Julie reported that the braids were no longer as uncomfortable as they had been, although she was of course still aware of their existence. Sue therefore sprayed on some warm water to dampen her hair again and proceeded to layer and style it. She was a very competent hair stylist and I could see it was going to look really good. Julie was anxious to see the final results, but Sue kept telling her to be patient. Eventually she put in some large rollers and Julie sat under the dryer.

Whilst we were waiting for Julie’s hair to dry, Sue made a start on manicuring my finger nails.

‘As soon as my hair is dry, please may I help with Jenny’s nail extensions,’ said Julie. ‘I’m anxious to learn as much as I can about beauty techniques. Maybe I might even work in a beauty salon one day after I’ve had my operation.’

I looked towards Sue and rolled my eyes. She just smiled back at me.

‘Alright then, we can do Jen’s nails together if you like.’

---

By the early afternoon I too possessed some long and elegant lacquered finger nails, for the first time in my life, thanks to the joint efforts of Sue and Julie.

‘I must admit they do look rather nice but they’ll take some getting used to. I’m not sure that I’ll be keeping them for very long, I’ll just have to see how I get on with them.’

Whilst my nail varnish was drying Sue took out the rollers from Julie’s hair, brushed it into shape and then at last held up a hand mirror to let her see for herself. I must admit to feeling a little envious of my sister's long blonde hair, and even wondered what it would be like for me to have mine done in the same way. Julie was beside herself with pleasure at the look and feel of her new hairstyle and finger nails, tossing her hair backward and forwards or else spreading out her fingers to admire the nails.

‘Do you have a full length mirror that I could use please Sue?’ she asked.

‘Yes, there’s one upstairs in my bedroom, the first door to your left at the top of the stairs.’

Whilst she was gone Sue turned to me.

‘Wow! She really does enjoy being a girl doesn’t she?’

‘Yes, it’s amazing. I used to think that Julian was really intelligent, but as Julie all she seems to be interested in is nail varnish and hair styles. But at least it’s something to take her mind off the loss of her parents,’ I replied.

‘Don’t knock the beauty industry, it’s how I shall be making my living,’ said Sue.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, but at least with you it’s a business enterprise,’ I replied.

‘Don't worry about Julie, it’s only a phase, that young girls go through,’ said Sue

‘Some girls go through,’ I corrected.

‘I expect, Julie will soon grow out of this interest in cosmetics and long hair and start being concerned with more serious things,’ she said.

‘I sincerely hope so, because from the middle of September onwards she’ll be on her own,’ I replied.

‘Since she’s so keen to learn, perhaps she could come and help out in my mum’s salon for a few hours each week, if she wanted to. She’s too young for us to employ, but there are a number of odd jobs she could do in the salon, such as sweeping up, serving coffee to the customers or taking out rollers. She'd be able to learn some more about makeup and hairstyling. We wouldn’t pay her but we would probably find some way to reward her efforts with free cosmetics or training,’ said Sue.

‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’ I asked. ‘Supposing one of your customers recognised her?’

‘I’ve now spent a number of hours in your sister’s company and she's never given me the impression that she was anything other than a rather feminine young woman.’

‘Well I suppose it would give her something to do and get her out of the house. As you said, I can’t very well keep her locked up for the whole summer,’ I replied.

‘I’ll see what Mum thinks about the idea before mentioning it to her.’

‘Will you tell your mother the story about her background?’

‘No, perhaps not the whole story — I’ll just say that she’s your cousin and has recently lost both of her parents.’

---

Julie eventually came downstairs after having admired herself in the full length mirror for a good fifteen minutes, still in raptures about her hair and her polished finger nails. I doubt whether Sue had ever previously had such a grateful customer, as she paid the remaining money that she owed to her, including for my new set of finger nails.

‘I still have an hour to spare, would you like me to fix your makeup for you once again, Julie?’ asked Sue, clearly pleased with the appreciation of her efforts.

‘Oh yes please,’ she replied eagerly.

‘Would you also have time to do mine as well?’ I asked tentatively.

Sue looked towards me in surprise and then smiled.

‘Jennifer!’ she said, with emphasis, ‘I always thought you were above such trivial things as eye shadow and blusher.’

My cheeks coloured, thereby removing any need for the latter.

‘Well you made such a good job of Julie the other day that I thought I might get some ideas for when I go out with Joe on Tuesday night,’ I replied a little grudgingly.

My friend looked as if she’d scored a small victory as she smiled patronisingly at me and agreed to do so.

My sister and I came away from Sue’s house both looking and feeling glamorous, with our long painted finger nails and smouldering eyes, but Julie especially so with her new long blonde tresses which looked entirely natural. We’d also just benefitted from lessons in how to apply eye-makeup effectively and what colours best suited us. I even began to wonder whether my previous efforts with a mascara brush had been as alluring as I’d previously thought.

As we were driving back to Woodley, Julie turned to me.

‘Jenny you look so lovely and I feel so good about myself, I just wish we could do something or go out somewhere to celebrate together tonight.’

‘I don’t think Joe would be too happy if I went out ‘on the pull’ this evening, and you’re too young to do so yourself,’ I replied. ‘I suppose we could treat ourselves to a candle-lit dinner in a posh restaurant if you wish, but I’m getting a little worried at the rate you’re spending your money, before our father’s probate is even granted.’

(I didn’t, have quite the same confidence as she had that all would go to plan.) She accepted my caution with good grace, but I felt a bit sorry for her, after all it now looked as if I would be having a social life over the next few weeks, but the best she could look forward to was occasional trips out shopping with me.

‘We could have a candlelit meal at home, and each of us put on one of Mummy’s long dresses and some of her jewellery as we both look so good?’ she asked tentatively as we pulled into the drive.

‘Alright then, but remember there’s a lot more to being a girl than just wearing dresses and makeup.’ I answered.

‘I know, but looking like this helps to endorse my feelings of femininity which probably come naturally to you,’ she answered seriously. Then added in a giggly voice, ‘and dressing up is fun isn’t it.’

I slowly shook my head with scepticism, but somewhere inside me my sister’s infectious enthusiasm for all things girly was beginning to have its effect.

---

Thus as soon as our evening meal was prepared and in the oven, and the table laid with the best crockery, Julie and I started to play dress up together once again. We eventually settled on two of her mother’s strapless long evening dresses. She chose a bright red, one and I dark blue.

‘How are your hair extensions feeling now?’ I asked.

‘Fine thanks, I’m barely aware of their existence and it feels so nice to have long hair. You should get some yourself,’ she said.

‘No thanks, I like my hair as it is. You’ve already talked me in to getting these, which is quite enough to get used to for the time being,’ I said examining my long nails.

‘Yes, and I bet you’re now pleased that I did so,’ she replied smiling.

I assumed this was a rhetorical question and so I didn’t answer. Instead I changed the subject.

‘Would you like to have your hair up or down this evening?’ I asked.

‘If I had it up I could wear some nice earrings instead of just the studs,’

‘How are your pierced ears.

‘They feel fine too, and appear to have healed quite nicely. Do you think I could risk putting in a pair of Mummy’s earrings?’

‘Strictly speaking you should leave them for a little while longer, but it might be ok. It’s up to you,’ I replied.

‘Will you help me to put them in please Jenny?’

I first showed her how to put her hair up in a French twist and secure it with clips and a pretty tortoiseshell comb from her mother’s jewel box. We then held up several pairs of earrings from her mother’s jewellery box, before she settled on a pair of rather a nice white gold and crystal bomb drop design, which I helped put in for her. She also chose a matching necklace and ring from the jewel box.

In spite of all my worries about her future, I have to admit that Julie looked truly beautiful that evening. Also, although I say it myself, I didn’t look too bad either. However, as soon as she’d finished I noticed that tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. It was as if looking so good had made her sad.

‘Whatever is the matter Julie?’

‘If only Mummy and Daddy could see me now. I only ever wanted them to be proud of me as a daughter rather than a son. I believe that Mummy was beginning to accept me and she thought that in time Daddy would come round as well. But he never got the chance to see me as a young woman.’

I took her in my arms and hugged her.

‘I’m so sorry Julie, I’m sure they both would have been very proud to have you as a daughter, just as I’m very proud to have you as a sister. But in the end you should want them to be proud of what you do with your life rather than what you look like.’

She then dissolved into sobs.

‘How can it be right for me to be feeling so happy to be a girl so soon after losing my parents?’

‘I don’t know, but sometimes things just happen. You didn’t wish your parents dead, but their death has provided you with the chance to discover yourself. It would be wrong not to embrace that opportunity.’

‘Oh Jenny, I really don’t know what I’d have done without you over the last three weeks.’

‘Oh my goodness Jen, now what have you got yourself into?’

She calmed down after a little while and I helped her to wipe her eyes and repair her makeup. We went on to have an enjoyable meal together and afterwards settled down to watch a mindless teenage video together.

---

The following morning Julie received a phone call from Sue, who’d spoken to her mother and was now asking whether she’d like to come along to the salon as an unpaid helper for two or three days each week. It was no surprise to me that my sister was keen to accept the offer. Since she now looked and acted so much like a girl I could hardly object, although I made her promise to be careful not to give herself away. I agreed to drive her to the salon the following morning and then collect her again at tea time. This suited me quite nicely because there were still a couple of my friends in Bracknell, who weren’t yet working, that I could go and visit.

Mum phoned me during the course of the morning to tell me that there was a large envelope from Nottingham University waiting for me at home, and also that somebody from the Bentalls Department store in the town had been trying to get hold of me. She was also anxious to know how things were going and so I offered to have lunch with her the following day, as I was going to be in Bracknell and I didn’t want to give her any excuse to come over and visit us. In the meanwhile, I returned the call from Bentalls, which turned out to be an invitation to attend an interview for a part-time job, at 10.00 am the following morning — things couldn’t have fitted together more neatly in a jigsaw puzzle.

‘Julie, how would you feel if I took a part-time job in Bracknell as well?’ I asked.

‘Would you continue to live here with me?’

‘Yes, of course, that was part of our agreement.’

‘In that case it would be fine by me, especially if your work times corresponded with my visits to the salon. Susie said that my days and hours could be flexible to suit myself.’

‘If I did get a job you’d only need to pay me a half of what you’re currently paying me,’ I volunteered, knowing that ready money might become a problem for her after a couple more weeks.

‘No, I’ll continue to pay you what we agreed, but it would be great if you could give me a lift into Wokingham on those days that I help out at the salon.’

‘Alright you can still pay me, but if I'm successful you needn’t hand over any more money from now on until after you have received the legacy from your Dad.’

It was odd, but although I was automatically now thinking of Julie as my sister, and I realised that we both shared the same father, I still couldn’t bring myself to say ‘our Dad’. My ‘Dad’ was the guy who’d brought me up, who was a thoroughly decent bloke, even though it had been obvious to me from an early age that he never quite understood the two women he’d taken on.

---

The following morning we set out for Wokingham and Bracknell, fifteen minutes later than I’d originally planned as Julie insisted that I should change into my black dress and put on some makeup for my interview. Fortunately, now that it was the end of July the schools had broken up for the summer and the morning traffic wasn’t bad. Thus I was able to make up most of the lost time before I dropped her off at the salon.

‘Good luck,’ I said as she got out of the car.

‘You too,’ she replied.

‘Now don’t get too carried away with all the cosmetics, remember that fifteen year old girls are also supposed to be capable of rational thought.’

She stuck her tongue out at me.

‘And you should start acting more like a young lady and less like a tearaway, if you’re to work in a smart department store.’

‘It’s only an interview, they haven’t offered me a job,’ I replied laughing.

---

There were three vacancies on offer: one in ‘ladies’ wear’, one in ‘children’s wear’ and a third in ‘house and home’, and there were a half dozen candidates being interviewed. In the event, I was quite pleased that I’d been bullied into putting on some lipstick and had my girly fingernails, since grooming appeared to be one of the things they were looking for in their shop assistants. Also the dress I was wearing had been purchased in the shop that I was now hoping to work for, only four weeks before, which seemed to count in my favour. I smiled sweetly and told the interviewers the sorts of things that my mother would want to hear from me. The ploy came off and they seemed to like me. I was offered three days work per week in ‘ladies wear’, but it was made clear that I would be required to wear the uniform provided by the shop, and that I’d also be expected to wear makeup and look ‘well-groomed’ at work each day. It seemed as if the whole world was in some sort of conspiracy to turn me into a ‘Barbie-doll,’ but at least that would be preferable to having to deal with obnoxious kids and their awkward mothers or else selling mops and toilet brushes all day long.

My departmental manageress seemed to be reasonably flexible about the hours to be worked — there was a basic rota but I’d be allowed to swap with my colleagues if necessary and there was rarely a problem in doing so, especially as I didn’t mind working on Saturdays, whilst many of my full-time colleagues preferred not to do so if they could avoid it. I explained about my forthcoming appointment at the Oxford District Probate Registry the following week, but fortunately there was no clash. Before I left the store I was issued with a couple of blouses, a skirt and a pair of black high heels which would be my uniform. I was also told that I could begin working the following Thursday morning.

Mum, predictable as ever, was pleased to see me wearing a dress, lipstick and nail varnish when we met for lunch, and said as much.

‘I’ve just come from a job interview, so don’t get your hopes up for any fundamental change in my lifestyle,’ I said, before she could show too much enthusiasm for my outfit.

‘I might have guessed,’ she said sighing, ‘but you do look nice.’

I gave her a perfunctory and ironic smile in recognition of the compliment.

‘So where’s Julian today?’

‘Er, he’s gone to visit a school friend for the day,’ I lied.

‘So how are you getting on?

‘Alright. Julian seems to be ok most of the time, although inevitably he gets upset at times,’ I answered without giving away too much detail.

‘More to the point, how are you both getting on together?’

‘What does she mean by that?’ I thought.

‘We’re both doing very well thanks, in fact I’ve rather grown to like my younger brother,’ I replied.

She didn’t question me any further on this topic, presumably because she had mixed feelings about the baby who’d brought about the break up of her first marriage. I asked about Dad, and she said he was missing me. Our conversation then dried up; I wasn’t going to mention Joe to her as she’d only want to meet him if I did. She handed over the envelope from the University instead. I had a quick look inside; it was all about my accommodation options for the next academic year, and so I decided to deal with it later. For want of anything else much to say, I proceeded to tell her about the funeral, and the delights of living in Woodley.

‘But what’s Julian going to do once you go to university?’ she asked.

‘I don’t really know, that’ll be up to him, but in about six week’s time when we’ve sorted out his mother’s probate he should be quite well off. He’ll also be sixteen and old enough to live on his own without too much interference from adults.’

‘That’s still very young to be looking after himself, no matter how well off he may be.’

‘I know, but he doesn’t want to go and stay with his Aunt in Australia.

‘Hmm,’ answered Mum in a non-commital way, but then decided to change the subject.

‘Of course, if his mother had died first, your legacy would have been a lot larger than it is now,’ she commented.

‘Why’s that?’ I asked.

‘If she’d died first, then your natural father would have inherited the house, her life assurance payments and a half of her estate. As a result his estate would have been many times larger than it was at the time of his death. As the two surviving legatees you and Julian would have been left half of it each.’

I may be the first in our family to be going to University, but my mother had always been quite shrewd, especially when it comes to money matters. I hadn’t really thought about the accident of fate that determined the size of my legacy, particularly as I’d never expected one in the first place. I shrugged my shoulders.

‘I’ll suppose that’s just the way it goes. I’ll be more than happy with the twenty-five thousand pounds or more that I do receive: especially as I was never allowed to have any contact with my natural father.’

My mother was getting used to my barbed comments regarding my late father. She looked a little guilty as I said those last words but I knew that she’d soon get over it. So I decided to rub a little more salt into the wound.

‘I’ll just have to rely on you and dad to make up the difference to me before you die,’ I said smiling sweetly, but knowing that it was highly unlikely.

‘You could always contest the will?’ she said. 'You might come away with a larger portion.'

‘No, it would be risky, expensive for one or other of us, and in any event I wouldn’t do that to my sister,’ I said, only half aware of what I was saying.

‘Sister? What sister?’

‘Sorry! I must be going Ga Ga, I meant my brother,’ I replied, colouring slightly. ‘He’ll have enough problems to contend with, without me seeking to cause him any more.’

That put an end to any further discussions of legacies or money, and soon afterwards she needed to go back to work. After she left I thought about what she’d said but decided that I wouldn’t wish to change places with my younger sister no matter how much money she’d inherited.’

---

I just had enough time to call in to see a couple of my friends in the afternoon before I needed to collect Julie from the salon at 5.00 pm. She was wearing a pink nylon tunic and skinny black three quarter length trousers that were worn by the other staff at the salon, but she nevertheless managed to look quite stunning, especially with her new hairstyle and fingernails. Her complexion also looked flawless with just a hint of blush on her cheeks.

‘Hi Jenny, I’ve really had a good time today,’ she said by way of greeting. ‘Sue has shown me how to put on foundation and blusher during a slack period this morning, but most of the day it’s been quite busy,’

‘In that case you’ll have to teach me sometime as well, since it looks as if I’ll have to start wearing makeup for my new job,’ I replied with studied weariness.

‘Great, it’ll be fun for us to get ready together in the mornings,’ she replied without even having noticed the sarcasm in my voice.

I rolled my eyes, but again Julie didn’t notice.

‘Whatever is happening to my sister’s brain?’

I explained the rota for my new job to Julie and Sue, and we agreed that Julie would help out at the salon on those days when I went to work at Bracknell, starting the coming Thursday. We would only have to make the journey on three days each week, leaving us plenty of time for other things.

---

Once we got home I took a shower and washed off the gunk from my face and began to get ready to go out with Joe. I half wondered whether to just put on my usual choice of jeans and a top as I’d had enough of dresses and make-up for one day and I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea about the sort of girl he was going out with. However, Julie would probably throw a hissy-fit if I’d done so, after she’d suggested the blue dress and we’d both gone to so much trouble looking for the right shoes on Saturday. Eventually I decided to stick with the dress but lay off the makeup and go for a more natural look, even though I did still have the girly painted finger nails.

Of course Julie did the opposite from me. She changed out of the tunic and trousers which had been her uniform for work and put on the dress that she’d worn earlier in the day. I also noticed that she’d quietly touched up her lipstick and mascara, and so she ended up looking more like the one with plans to go out for the evening than I did.

Over dinner Julie commented that my dress and shoes went well together, but didn’t push her luck for the second time in one day regarding my lack of makeup. We finished our meal and I’d cleared the dishes; she stayed downstairs long enough to say hello to Joe when he arrived to collect me. He complimented her on her new hair style, apparently unaware that she’d previously been wearing a wig. Julie thanked him and looked pleased but shortly afterwards disappeared up to her room, having quietly indicated that she would be in bed when we returned. As we were leaving the house, Joe commented that Julie looked very nice that evening, so I pointedly reminded him that she was only fifteen and below the age of consent. I also wondered whether I should have put on some eye shadow and eye liner after all. However, Joe did redeem himself later on by saying how nice my hands looked, as we were dancing, and so I invited him back to the house for ‘a coffee’, and he eventually made his way home, just as it was beginning to get light.

After an unpromising beginning, my summer break, between school and university was beginning to look up, in terms of my social life, my family life and my financial situation.

It was almost noon on Wednesday before I emerged from my bed in search of a cup of coffee and looking as if I’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. Fortunately I was not due to begin work until the following day.

Julie had already been up for several hours and was working on her mother’s spreadsheet. She appeared to be able to switch between the ditzy blonde - only interested in nail varnish and eye shadow, and the well-organised accountant with an understanding of legal and financial matters way beyond her years. Today she’d dressed simply in slacks, a top and with only a smattering of makeup, but still looked great with her long hair and immaculate finger nails. I noticed also that she’d changed her earrings again. I was beginning to feel decidedly frumpy in comparison with my younger sister. I tried to picture her as a guy might do. There was still an element of boyishness in her appearance, but I could see that once she started taking oestrogen and began to develop a more rounded figure she would quickly grow to look ‘drop-dead gorgeous’. It was no wonder that she wanted to have the operation as soon as possible, for she’d soon have men queuing round the block after her.

Perhaps it’s just as well for me that you’re still only fifteen years old.

‘Hi Julie, you look smart this morning,’ I croaked, happy to congratulate her on those occasions she dressed sensibly.

She gave me a nice smile, and immediately realised that she couldn’t, in all honesty, return any compliment on my appearance.

‘Thanks Jenny. You look as if you had a good time last night.’

‘Yes thanks,’ I answered in a voice conveying that I didn’t wish to go into any more detail at that time.

I went downstairs to make a coffee and a minute or so later she joined me.

She hesitated for a minute before adopting her girly voice. I was instinctively on my guard as I’d been caught that way before.

‘Jenny — We’ll soon have to decide what we’re going to do about that week in Thailand at the end of August that my mother had booked before she died. It is only five weeks away. Mum had already paid for the air tickets and the hotel.’

We! What has this to do with me?’

‘I expect you’ll be able to claim at least a partial refund, given the circumstances, or maybe you could claim something from her travel insurance, if she had any,’ I said.

‘Yes that may be true, she continued, brushing my answer to one side, ‘But I was wondering whether you’d like to go with me in her place? It’s only for a week and it wouldn’t cost you anything,’ she asked tentatively. I’ve checked with the travel agent and there would be no difficulty in changing the booking.’

‘And you’d use the opportunity to visit the clinic and collect your supplies of female hormones,’ I replied.

She blushed for a moment, but then looked defiant

‘Yes I would, but that’ll probably only take an hour or so and it needn’t involve you. I’ve already seen the consultant once with Mummy and he’s expecting to see me again just before I’m sixteen. We’d be staying in Bangkok and there would be plenty of other things for us to see and do.

‘I don’t think so Julie, after all I’ve only just found myself a job and haven’t even begun working yet.’

‘You would only need to miss three days, and you’d probably be able to swap shifts to make up the time.’

‘But how will you get there since you don’t have a passport in Julie’s name?’ I asked.

‘I’ll just have to travel there and back as Julian,’ she replied with an expression of profound distaste. ‘But I can always dress androgynously and then change back to Julie as soon as I go through the passport control.’

‘You’d have to lose your precious hair and nail extensions,’ I commented.

‘Yes, worst luck, but it is a few weeks away and I believe that we’ll have received the legacies from Daddy by then and so I would be able to afford to pay Susie to put them back for me afterwards. It’ll be worth it if I can obtain my supplies of hormone tablets, and can really start my transition. Please reconsider,’ she said with her large entreating eyes.

She seems to be learning her body language quickly enough,’ I thought, but I held firm nevertheless.

‘And what about these hormone tablets, how will you get them back through customs?’ I asked trying to avoid making eye contact.

‘They’re only the same as contraceptive pills. It’s not as if they’re dangerous or illegal drugs. I intend to post some of them to myself and then take the remainder in my luggage. I doubt if they’ll attract any attention from the sniffer dogs, after all a good proportion of the holidaymakers who go to Thailand will be ‘on the pill’ already,’ she replied. ‘Maybe you could take some for me as well?’

‘Now hang on a minute Julie, I haven’t said I’ll be going. I’ll have to think about the implications of what you’re asking. I’m not even sure that I’d be able to get the time off work or afford to have a week abroad, even if the fare and hotel are paid for.’

‘It should only take a couple of weeks after your interview at the Probate Registry next week before the grant is made and we can access his bank account.

‘And what would happen if I were to be caught travelling with a minor who was trying to import pharmaceuticals?’

‘They’ll have been prescribed for me by a doctor and I’d only just be a minor by a matter of days,’ she replied.

‘Yes but you’d still be a minor nevertheless,’ I replied.

‘I suppose so,’ she answered looking downcast by my response.

I felt like ‘Wicked Witch of the West’.

‘Look, I don’t know, just give me a few days to think about it, alright,’ I answered irritably.

‘Yes of course,’ she said in a subdued voice and returned to her spreadsheet.

---

I went up to my room and started to read through the accommodation pack from Nottingham University. It included a letter asking me whether I wished to take up an offered place in their Halls of Residence or find somewhere to live in the private sector, and gave me a list of private accommodation in the area. I’ve never been a great one for communal living, and the thought of sharing a kitchen and bathroom with four or five others of my age wasn’t very appealing. It would be just my luck to be put in the same flat as students who’d never been called upon to lift a finger at home and couldn’t even wipe their bottoms properly. I’d either end up sharing their squalor or else be irritably clearing up behind the others, and labelled as ‘little Miss Clean Freak’. On the other hand moving in to a bedsit in a town where I didn’t know anybody held few attractions for me either. I’d be bound to move in to the same lodging house as someone learning to play the bagpipes, a serial killer who blocks the drains with body parts, or else a rapist who targets female students living on their own. I wasn’t sure which of these two alternatives would be least objectionable.

I didn’t really know too much about Nottingham beyond its association with Robin Hood and the wicked Sheriff. It had been the course rather than the city which had attracted me to apply there. My parents had taken me on one brief visit to the campus for the Open Day but we’d driven to the campus straight from the motorway and then returned so I didn’t get any chance to look around the surrounding area. I still had a few weeks before I needed to commit myself and so I began to wonder whether I might organise a trip to Nottingham with Joe to have a look around before making up my mind. This would also mean leaving Julie on her own for a couple of days, so I didn’t speak about my idea straight away.

It was my turn to cook for us both that evening. Julie offered to do it for me, but I didn’t wish to take advantage of her good nature and in any event suspected she may have had an ulterior motive in doing so. For once; I didn’t do too bad a job as we sat down to a dish or pork chops in a cider sauce. After complimenting me on my efforts, Julie started to make general conversation, but I could tell what was really on her mind.

‘Julie, you forget that I too was once fifteen, so stop trying to ‘butter me up’ in order to raise the matter of Thailand again. I’m not going to come to a decision until I’ve had a chance to think about things.’

’Now I really am sounding like my mother.’

---

The following morning was the first occasion that I tried to dress myself as ‘a daisy’ ready to go into work. Julie insisted on checking my makeup before we left, having first made a pretty good job of her own.

She goes to work in a salon for a single day and suddenly she’s become the expert?’

‘You need to look smart on your first day at work,’ she said as she brushed on some eye shadow, eye liner and a little blusher.

‘Now you’re now beginning to sound like my mother,’ I responded scornfully.

She ignored my comment and continued with her work.

‘There, how does that look?’ she asked.

I must admit that it was an improvement, and the extra makeup didn’t make me look like a slapper, as it would have done if I’d tried to apply it by myself.

‘It’s alright, I suppose,’ I admitted, and as an afterthought I added, ‘thank you very much.’

I then discovered that I’d never be able to drive the car safely wearing the pencil line skirt and high heels provided to me by the store, so I had quickly to put on some trousers and flats for the journey and get changed at work. I just made it on time, but made a mental note to leave myself a bit more time in the mornings.

---

After that first occasion, I let Julie finish off my makeup each morning that I was due to go into work. She was clearly a fast learner and soon became far more proficient and discerning than me. The upshot was that I tended to wear more makeup than I otherwise would have done, but she started coming home with free samples from the salon, so it didn’t cost me anything. On the other hand, I believe that I began to be a good influence on her fashion sense over the next week or two as well. By means of a combination of judicious compliments, occasional sarcastic comments together with one or two gifts of tops from work (I did now qualify for a staff discount) I gradually managed to get her dressing more like a teenager from the 2010s and less like one from the 1990s.. I would have liked her to make one or two purchases of her own, except that I was aware that she now only had enough ready money for a couple of weeks, pending the arrival of the Grant of Probate.

My sophisticated look and new found interest in clothes seemed to go down well at work, as I began to develop the skill of knowing which designs or colours suited individuals, and so I found myself able to offer advice to customers, whilst still keeping a straight face. The manageress of my department even hinted that if ‘Human Geography’ at Nottingham didn’t live up to my expectations, there might be an opening for me in ‘Ladies Wear’ in Bracknell. (I didn’t tell her that I’d far rather spend my life in a nunnery in the middle of the Ghobi desert.) My choice of geography was as a means for me to see some of the world and perhaps spend a couple of years undertaking Voluntary Service Overseas, not to end up selling frocks in some urban wasteland with as much architectural merit as a Soviet Gulag. I therefore politely declined her suggestion although saying that I might well be interested in returning for vacation work for the duration of my course. However, I find that I’m getting ahead of myself and also beginning to digress and so must return to the story of my sister and myself.

---

Julie didn’t say anything more to me about the proposed trip to Thailand for a few days, but we were both aware that the need for a decision was looming in the background. I wasn’t sure what to do so I thought I might discuss it with Susie, as she was the only other person who knew about Julie’s situation. I called round to see her one evening, when Joe was engaged in some utterly mindless pursuit involving bats and balls. Susie began our conversation by telling me how helpful my sister had been and how quickly she learned things.

‘I feel a little guilty because she works so hard. I wish we could pay her and let her loose on the clients, but she wouldn’t be covered by our insurance if she were to poison somebody or dye their hair bright green. However, if she’s still around once she’s sixteen, we would be happy to give her a Saturday job when she’s not at school.’

‘I wouldn’t worry for the time being, she seems to enjoy helping out and is pleased with the free products you give her; but aren’t you anxious in case someone guesses her real sex?’

Sue shrugged.

‘Nobody has said anything so far, in fact she’s popular with both the customers and the other staff. As far as my mum is concerned she’s your pretty little fifteen year old cousin called Julie.’

‘I worry in case my mother should take it into her head to have her hair done at your salon.’

‘She’s never done so before, but even if she did, would she recognise Julie as your former step-brother?’

I thought for a moment.

‘No, probably not, Julie looks quite different from Julian now,’ I admitted.

‘Maybe I need not be quite so paranoid about keeping her hidden at home in Woodley.’

I then told Susie about the suggested trip to Bangkok and its true purpose.

‘I must admit I quite like the sound of a free trip to Thailand, my parents have never ventured any further than Spain,’ I said.

‘Me too,’ replied Susie.

‘But I’d be concerned about her bringing back these hormone tablets with her,’ I said.

‘Well it’s not as if she’s trying to import heroin or crack cocaine into the country; it would just be a year’s supply of birth control pills, and demonstrably they are for her own use,’ she replied.

‘Yes I suppose so, but I’d still be technically responsible for her, and I’m sure that there must be a law about giving a minor access to female hormones,’ I said.

‘You could deny all knowledge of them, if she’s caught, but you should warn her first of all,’ suggested Sue.

‘The trouble is that she seems so determined, that if I don’t go with her in August, I suspect she’ll try and go by herself in September when she is sixteen and then would be in danger of getting picked up by all kinds of undesirables.’

‘But then she would no longer be your responsibility.’

‘I know, but she’s still my sister after all, and she’s not as worldly wise as she thinks. I suspect that any sweet-talking guy would sweep her off her feet and steal all her money, before she even got through customs.’

‘Would it help if I were to go along as well?’ she asked. ‘I’d have no objection to bringing back a three month supply of contraceptive pills through customs. You could do the same; I can’t see that causing any problem for us..

‘Would you like to go?’

‘Yes it could be fun if it’s not too late to alter the booking. It’s some time since I’ve had a proper holiday.’

‘What about Geoff?’

‘Oh, he’s booked to go to the Reading Festival with his mates. It’ll be nearly as expensive as a week in Thailand and they’ll just get drunk or stoned.

‘That would be fine by me, if you’re happy to come along. Of course Julie will have to travel as Julian, but you could help to change her back afterwards.’

‘Perhaps you’d better check with Julie first.’

---

That evening over dinner I raised the topic with Julie once again.

‘Regarding the trip to Bangkok, how would you feel if Susie came too,’ I asked.

‘That would be great, if she can get a flight,’ answered Julie.

‘Alright, assuming I can get the time off work and we can get Susie a flight we’ll come with you, but there’ll be conditions.’

‘What sort of conditions?’

‘You’ll have to change into Julian each time we go through passport control, which means that you’ll lose your precious hair and nail extensions until we get home.’

‘Alright, but I’ll be allowed to wear a wig and dress as Julie at other times, won’t I?’

‘I suppose so,’ I replied. ‘Secondly, you must promise me that you’ll not take any oestrogen until your sixteenth birthday when you’re no longer my responsibility. I’ll not be held responsible for your wish to become a woman — that was a decision taken by yourself, your mother and your therapist.’

‘Yes, I agree,’ she replied. ‘I’ll be sixteen a few days after we get home.’

‘Thirdly, Susie and I’ll carry a small supply of your pills through customs for you, pretending we are on the pill. This should be enough to keep you going for a few months. If you want to post some more to yourself, that’ll be up to you and will be your responsibility. Once you’re sixteen and we know exactly what drugs have been prescribed for you, I’ll see if I can help you to obtain some in this country.’

‘Oh Jenny, thank you so much,’ she said getting up to give me a hug.

‘As soon as I’m sixteen and have some money available I’ll try and find a private doctor who will co-operate with managing my transition. I hope that he or she will provide me with additional supplies, once I’ve used those that I get from Thailand.’

I nodded, but wondered whether or not we were doing the right thing.

It proved to be surprisingly easy to organise a full week off at the end of August for us to go to Thailand, it merely meant that I’d have to work virtually every other Saturday until I left for University. Likewise, purchasing one more air ticket for the same flight didn’t prove difficult, as there are always a couple of cancellations. When we looked at the details of the hotel we discovered there were already two queen sized beds in the room and so it was agreed that we could share and take it in turns to go down to breakfast. I needed to retrieve my passport from home to get the details so that Julie could arrange to substitute my name for her mother’s on the air tickets and at the hotel. I therefore popped in to see Mum and Dad the following evening, partly to let them know how I was getting on at Woodley.

For once, I was in Mum’s ‘good books’ as one of her workmates had been served by me at Bentalls and had commented to her what a helpful young lady I was becoming. Dad muttered that he missed having me around the place and gave me a hug, which for him, was equivalent to an emotional outburst. Inevitably mum wanted to know why I needed my passport, but seemed satisfied when I told her it was for identification purposes at my forthcoming Probate Interview. I didn’t think it was a good idea to tell them about our proposed trip to Thailand at this stage. I would have to tell them before we left, but wanted to choose my moment carefully and only after all the arrangements had been made. I did however make the mistake of mentioning that I might be going to have a look around Nottingham.

‘What about Julian?’ she asked.

‘He can come with me, if he wants,’ I lied.

(I wasn’t going to mention about Joe coming along, or else she would start asking about the sleeping arrangements.)

‘Where will you be staying?’

My mother is so predictable. I could see how her mind was working.

‘In a Travelodge; it’s only for a couple of nights, we can share a twin room.’

‘People might talk with two teenagers sharing a hotel room.’

‘Only people like you.’

‘You don’t need to worry about Julian Mum, I’m sure my virginity is perfectly safe in his hands,’ I replied caustically. ‘After all he is my half brother, still recovering from the loss of his parents, and from the look of him I doubt whether his balls have even dropped yet.’

‘If only you knew the whole story. Julian would be the least of your worries.’

‘Jennifer, you can be very coarse at times,’ she commented; so I knew that things were back to normal between us.

---

Assuming Julie was right with respect to the timing of the Grant of Probate, my own financial situation at the end of July looked quite secure. I had the money already paid to me by Julie over the previous four weeks, most of which I’d managed to save; my salary from the shop, which would keep me afloat for my day to day needs in future, and of course the promised legacy expected in two or three weeks. The proposed trip to Thailand had already been paid for, and it wouldn’t cost us much to get from Reading to Heathrow Airport. Even if Julie was being over-optimistic regarding the timing of the legacy there was also the overdraft facility. If it came to the crunch, I’d be able to keep us both afloat for a few weeks, and, if necessary loan some money to Julie when I moved out. Thus I wouldn’t be leaving her entirely in the lurch.

Julie had less money immediately available following the death of her mother and the freezing of her bank account, but her longer term financial prospects also seemed to be improving by the day as we received more correspondence containing financial statements or cheques due to the estates of either of her parents. She kept me informed exactly what was going on because, in due course, I would apply to be the administrator and would have to handle the funds.

‘I’d no idea my parents had so much money invested or else due from life insurance policies,’ she said. ‘By the time I sell the family home and pay-off the inheritance tax I’ll have more than three quarters of a million pounds at my disposal.’

‘Wow! So what do you intend to do with it all?’ I asked.

‘First of all, I’ll find somewhere quiet to settle where nobody knows me and where I can live as a girl and complete my transition. If I can, I’ll also try and resume my education, but only if I can do so as a girl. Then, on my eighteenth birthday, I want to have my operation. Two years after that I’ll apply for my Gender Recognition Certificate, and if Mr Right should come along at some time, get married or else find a job and live happily ever after as a woman.’

Then, as an afterthought she added, ‘except, of course, I’d far rather have done it with the help and approval my parents than merely by using their money’.

‘You really have got you life mapped out, haven’t you?’ I said.

‘You’ll need to be very careful though, a lonely and isolated young girl with access to plenty of money is likely to attract every good looking fortune-hunter and wastrel in a fifty mile radius.’

‘I suppose I have, but Jenny I’m very grateful to you for your help.’

’I do wish you’d stop saying that!

‘It’s been my pleasure,’ I said giving her a smile, ‘even if you do bully me into wearing too much makeup.’

She smiled shyly in return.

‘Most of the time these days I find it difficult to remember that there was once a boy in there.’

‘By the way, there was a cheque this morning from daddy’s motor insurance for nearly  £12,000 for his written-off car,’ she continued. ‘I think it will be fairest if we bank it in his savings account. That way you and I can receive a quarter after his probate and the remainder will go into my mother’s estate. Your legacy should now be more like  £30,000, and there may be even some more in the years to come if the company can prove the liability of the other driver.’

Julie was being very fair with me. She could easily have decided that the cheque should be banked in her parents’ joint account in which case I would have received no benefit from it.

‘That’s very generous of you,’ I said.

‘Generosity has nothing to do with it; it’s just a question of following the instructions in our father’s will. They each regarded their cars as their own. However, once we’ve finished sorting out my mother’s probate, I’d like you to keep her car as a thank-you present for doing the work.’

‘But it’s only a few months old, and in any event you’ve done most of the work.’

‘It’ll be more than a year before I’m old enough to have a provisional driving licence, and I’m not even sure whether they will give me one in Julie’s name before I am eighteen. The car will have lost much of its value by then.’

‘That’s very kind of you Julie, but I don’t think I can accept such a gift,’ I said, knowing that in a few weeks time I’d be leaving her to fend for herself.’

‘So be it, but the car is insured in your name for nearly a year, so there’s no reason why you shouldn’t continue to borrow it. You can even take it with you to University, if you like and then you could come and visit me from time to time. In the meanwhile it’ll be useful having you here to drive me in to Wokingham.’

I could see that there was an ulterior motive behind her generosity, but it was generosity all the same.

To be honest I didn’t know how I should be feeling about the recent events. After all, I was hardly likely to be heartbroken about the prospect of  £30,000 plus the loan of an almost new car, at the expense of the deaths of two people that I barely knew existed, no matter what I ought to have been feeling for my father and his wife. Of course it was quite different for Julie who would now have to face her future without parents or friends and I truly felt sorry for her. The best thing for me about the last few weeks had been the discovery that I had a sibling, even if it was one with a severe case of gender confusion.

---

I went out with Joe on a couple more occasions during the week which gave me a brief dose of normality. He was good fun to be with, and the sex was pretty good as well, but I made sure that I didn’t get any long term romantic ideas about him and got the impression that he was doing the same about me. He even came to lunch with the two of us on the Sunday and stayed at the house for the afternoon and early evening. I did wonder whether Julie and I were taking a risk by exposing her to a visitor for such a prolonged period, in case she did or said something to give away her origins. I needn’t have worried though, my sister played the part of a fifteen year old girl to perfection, even to the extent of insisting that we sat through a (so called) talent contest on television that had her cooing at some adolescent boy bands.

After tea Julie decided to go and wash her hair and then have an early night, so that Joe and I could have some time together.

‘Sorry to inflict that mindless pap on you,’ I said to Joe after she’d left us.

‘That’s ok, I’m quite used to it; after all I’ve a fourteen year old sister of my own. Maybe we could take both our sisters to see the latest Harry Potter film sometime?’ he suggested.

‘It would be nice for Julie to have some friends of her own age, but maybe it would be a little bit risky.’

‘Perhaps, but you’d better check it out with your sister first.’

---

From Monday to Wednesday we were both working. I didn’t really mind my job, and it was infinitely preferable to my summer job last year packing bacon. The only snag is that you don’t get to meet any fit guys in the ‘Ladies Wear’ department, just bored looking husbands, but with Joe on the scene this wasn’t really an issue. Julie continued to be enthusiastic about her work, coming home each evening with new ideas regarding makeup and hairstyles which she was anxious to try out on one or other of us. I didn’t really mind, although it was always a relief to go out with Joe, even if he was now beginning to think of me as a ‘girly girl’ in spite of my periodic attempt to disabuse him.

---

The first big step towards acquiring the legacies from our father’s estate came on the Thursday when I was required to attend for an interview at the Probate Registry in St. Aldates, in Oxford at 11.00am. Julie accompanied me: but of course wouldn’t be able to come in to the interview with me since, according to the documentation, the only other person involved was my half-brother. It might be difficult to explain who she was.

For once, we were in agreement as to what I should wear. I needed to look as mature, smart and business-like as possible, but I insisted that if I was going to have to wear a suit and a blouse for the trip, then she should do so as well. Julie seemed more than willing to oblige and there were a couple of suitable outfits formerly belonging to her mother, which fitted us both. Mine was a dark red linen trouser suit, as I’d had enough of wearing tight skirts whilst at work. My sister wore a charcoal grey jersey two-piece suit with a full skirt. We chose co-ordinating blouses and jewellery. I let her finish off my makeup, as she did for work. I think we both looked the part as we drove to the Redbridge ‘Park and Ride,’ on the Ring Road south of Oxford, and caught a bus into the High Street. The Probate Registry was opposite Christchurch, a short walk away

‘How are you feeling?’ Julie asked as we sat in the waiting room prior to my appointment.

‘A little nervous,’ I replied.

‘There’s nothing for you to worry about, but remember you should mention that my mother has died since we made the application, and show them her death certificate. They have not been formally notified as yet. It shouldn’t complicate matters; indeed it might even simplify them as she was the original named administrator.’

After a few more minutes I was called into the interview room and shook hands with the registrar, and sat on the seat provided. She looked through the file on her desk. I was glad that I was dressed smartly, and grew in confidence. At last she finished looking through the documents and looked up smiled at me.

‘Miss Robertson, please accept my condolences for the death of your father, but I must also compliment you on the correct way you have completed the forms and supplied us with all the required documentation. The applications that we receive from solicitors do not always meet this standard of accuracy. I don’t think I have any further questions to ask of you.’

I blushed.

‘Actually it was my younger brother who did most of the paperwork,’ I admitted, ‘but I’m sure that I now understand what will be required of me as the administrator.’

‘In that case he is to be congratulated as well,’ she said, continuing to smile.

I then started to explain about the death of Julian’s mother and handed over one of her death certificates to be copied and returned to us in due course.

‘So your younger brother has lost both of his parents and he’s still a minor; that really is a tragedy,’ she commented.

‘Yes, but he seems to be coping reasonably well, and his mother and father have left him well provided for — at least until he completes his education. We are also planning to administer his mother’s estate in due course.’

‘I hope you’re able to do so without too much difficulty. If you have any questions as to what is required you may telephone our office, I’m sure my staff will do their best to help in any way they can.’

She then asked me to swear an oath on a copy of the Bible, promising to administer the estate in accordance with the deceased’s will.

‘Thank you, she said at last. ‘As you are not the executor named in the will, your Grant of Representation will be in the form of a document known as Letters of Administration, which you will received by post within the next ten working days. This document will give you the right to dispose of your father’s assets in accordance with his wishes.’

We shook hands again and I left.

‘How did it go?’ Julie asked as we walked out of the office together.

‘Julie, you’re a genius. There were no problems and we should get the grant sometime in the next fortnight and you and I should get our legacies. So why don’t we now do some shopping to celebrate and have you looking more like a teenager from 2010.’

---

We spent the afternoon in Oxford shopping for some more modern looking tops and slacks for Julie to wear. I also decided that as soon as the bulk of the money arrived I’d treat myself to an iPhone, and also get something special for mum and dad as well.

‘There’s one other thing I’d now like to do, if you’re willing to help me,’ said Julie as we were waiting to pay for her purchases.

‘What’s that Sis?’ I asked.

‘For practical reasons I had to attend both of my parents’ funerals as Julian, but I’d now like to say goodbye to them as Julie. How would you feel if we arranged to scatter their ashes together at some time?’

‘Yes of course, I should be happy to do so. Where do you have in mind to scatter the ashes?’ I asked, hoping it wouldn’t be somewhere too distant or embarrassing.

‘I was thinking about the Berkshire Downs near to the Uffington White Horse*. Dad was always interested in the prehistoric monuments in that area and used to take us there and to Wayland's Smithy from time to time. We could do it at any time that’s convenient to you,’ she said.

‘We’re both be working on Saturday, but I suppose we could take a drive there this Sunday afternoon’ I suggested.

‘Fine, in that case would you be able to collect the ashes from the Funeral Parlour tomorrow as you aren’t working. I cannot very well do it myself?’

‘Perhaps ’Julian’ could phone them as to say that I will be coming to collect the ashes, together with my sister. With your new hairstyle I don’t think they are likely to recognise you as Julian, but it may be wisest to let me do the talking,’ I said.

‘Alright then, I’ll phone them now and we’ll pick them up tomorrow morning,’ she replied smiling.

‘There’s also something I’d like to ask of you, as well Julie.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I’ve no memories of our father and yet he’s leaving me all this money. Would you let me have a picture of him to keep?’

‘Yes of course, there are one or two nice studio portraits of him, at home, I’ll buy a photo frame this afternoon and let you have one.’

---

Julie and I decided to walk to the funeral parlour together as it was another nice day and only just over a mile away. With her new hairstyle and up to date clothing there was now no trace of any incongruity in her appearance. As we left the house I stopped briefly to speak with one of the neighbours. I explained that Julian had gone to stay with his Aunt in Canberra for a few weeks and that my sister and I would be looking after the house for the summer until the legal formalities for its sale had been completed. The neighbour accepted the story without question and briefly spoke of what an awful tragedy had befallen the family. She didn’t seem to recognise the young girl who was waiting for me a few steps away. No doubt, she would spread the story around the neighbourhood. Similarly, there was no difficulty when we arrived at the funeral parlour to collect the ashes. In both of these instances Julie stood there looking like a slightly awkward teenage girl, whilst I did the talking. From now onwards there would be no question of our having to hide her as we came and went or when somebody came to the door.

* The Uffington White Horse is a huge prehistoric representation of a running horse cut in to the chalk of one of the Berkshire Downs, and is visible from several miles away. Wayland's Smithy is a Neolithic long barrow and chamber tomb site located near the Uffington White Horse.

Julie and I must have appeared to be an odd pair on that Sunday afternoon at the beginning of August. Two smart, but sombrely dressed young ladies wearing unsuitable high-heeled shoes, carefully picking their way up the footpath towards the panorama overlooking the Uffington White Horse. I wore my black dress again, and Julie the charcoal grey suit. We each carried a grey cardboard box containing the ashes of one of Julie’s parents, I carried those of our father, and she had those of her mother. When we reached our destination we waited for a suitable moment when not many people were around and then stood next to one another slowly pouring the ashes into the breeze. The gentle wind over the Berkshire downs mingled the ashes together and carried them away towards the White Horse, until there was no sign left on the ground at our feet. We stood and watched for a few minutes each of us lost in our own thoughts, before I turned to Julie to give my sister a hug. There were tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t sobbing.

‘Thank you Jenny, I should be alright now,’ she said. ‘I’ve said goodbye to my parents and am now ready to move on with my life.’

I held her hand as we carefully picked our way back down the footpath to the car park before we made our way back to Woodley. That evening, Julie gave me a nicely framed photograph of my natural father, the first one of him I’d seen.

‘He wasn’t bad looking,’ I commented,

‘I suppose so,’ replied Julie. ‘You appear to have inherited your eyes from him.’

---

The Letters of Administration for our father’s estate arrived in the post on the Wednesday of the next week. We weren’t due to work on that day, so I drove into Reading in order to present the document to the bank, together with my passport as ID. Julie agreed that it would not be wise for her to come, in case anyone at the bank should recognise her after the recent interview with Julian and myself. Instead, she could now begin the task of winding up her mother’s financial affairs in earnest, completing the various forms and assembling the documents necessary to value her mother’s estate and work out the inheritance tax to be paid. I could then apply for probate on her behalf and she could begin disposing of the assets, selling the house and embarking upon her new life. She was confident that we would be able to do all the paperwork over the next two weeks and then I could have my second probate interview in mid September before I left for Nottingham on the 25th.

Julie provided me with a list of financial transactions to make in Reading including depositing a sizable number of cheques and other payments received, and then transferring a large proportion into her late mother’s account, which was itself frozen, except that it could still receive deposits. I was now directly responsible for what seemed to be huge sums of money, but had, of course, sworn to follow the terms of the will.

Eventually, after all the various deposits, payments, and fees, there remained just over  £60,000, which was to be shared equally between ‘Julian’ and myself. I therefore made the necessary transfers and closed my father’s account. That was the end of his financial affairs on this Earth, just as his bodily remains had been scattered to the four winds. I had the feeling that we were gradually removing all traces of his existence, just as my mother had done from her life many years before. Of course I was more than grateful for the bequest. For the foreseeable future, my sister’s and my own financial problems were at an end. Even if there were problems with her mother’s probate Julie had enough money to keep herself afloat for two or three years. But I wish I’d been allowed to know him, and was glad that I’d asked Julie for something tangible to remember him by.

After I emerged from the bank I went to buy my new iPhone and also looked around the shops for a suitable present to buy for Mum and Dad. Thus it was just about lunch time before I returned to Woodley.

There was no response from Julie as I came in and she was no longer working in the office upstairs, where I’d left her. I assumed she must be in the master bedroom, perhaps trying on some clothes, but there was no response when I knocked at the door and then cautiously opened it. She didn’t appear to be anywhere in the house. I quickly looked in both garages and the back garden, but she was also nowhere to be seen.

‘What has happened to her? Where has she gone? What if someone recognises her?' I asked myself.

There was nothing I could do except wait and hope that she was alright. Eventually, after about half an hour, she breezed in carrying a plastic carrier bag, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

‘Hi Jen, did everything go alright at the bank?’

‘Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick,’ I said sharply, realising, as I said it, that I was sounding just like my mother used to sound, when I was fifteen years old.

Julie let out a little startled squeak, clearly surprised by my reaction.

‘I only went to the grocery shop to get us some milk and some bread,’ in a rather girlish, self-pitying voice.

‘But what if one of the neighbours had recognised you and it becomes common knowledge in the neighbourhood that Julian is now dressing as a girl?’ There would be Social Workers round in no time and you’d be taken into care, and that’ll be the last you see of your precious hormones until you’re eighteen.’

I realised I was probably being unreasonable as I said it, but continued nevertheless. It was partly my monthly cycle, but I was mainly angry with myself; feeling guilty that in just over six weeks I would be leaving her to fend for herself.

Her eyes began to fill with tears and her lower lip trembled.

‘I’m sorry Jenny, I thought it would be alright as we went out together several times last week and nobody recognised me,’ she responded, clearly hurt by my rebuke.’

‘In any event, I don’t look like Julian now that I’ve long fair hair,’ she continued, still upset but also with a trace of petulance.

I couldn’t help smiling at her very feminine reaction to my anger.

‘I know and I’m sorry that I snapped at you, but it’s different when I’m with you. You might give yourself away on your own,’ I replied a little more gently.

‘Susie lets me go out on my own during my lunch break, and there’s never been any problem,’ she responded sniffing to stop herself from crying.

I wasn’t aware of this; I’d assumed that she took her lunch in the salon.

‘But that’s Wokingham; nobody knows you there.’

‘Not many people in Woodley knew Julian, and only you and Susie know about Julie. Sometimes I get bored and lonely having to stay in the house so much.’

‘Alright, but you did agree to follow my advice,’ I said soothingly.

‘Yes I know, and I’m truly grateful for everything you’ve done for me Jenny. I don’t want to cramp your style or get in the way.

‘You’re not in my way, this is your house and it’s your life. I’m sorry that I got angry, it’s only because I care about you,’ I said giving her a hug.

‘I know you do, but you’ll be leaving in a few weeks and I’ll have to manage on my own,’ she said beginning to sob. ‘You said you were going to help me by pointing out where I go wrong in my attempts to live as a woman, but all you ever say is that I look nice.’

I gave a little laugh.

‘That’s because you do look nice, silly. Perhaps you are a bit too keen on wearing dresses and makeup for my taste, but most of the time you act and look just like a girl.’

‘In that case why can’t I go out on my own?’ she asked sniffing.

I must admit she has a point there.

‘I did say ‘most of the time’. I do notice occasional minor lapses; phrases or gestures that are not quite right.’

‘Then why don’t you point them out to me?’

‘Most of them would seem so petty that it hardly seems worth the trouble to point them out; but you do have a point. Let me have a talk to Susie to see what she thinks and whether we can give you any better feedback or advice on improving your presentation.'

‘Alright then,’ she sniffed.

‘We could go out and buy you some more clothes this afternoon if you like,’ I offered by way of consolation..

‘I’ve enough clothes with the stuff we bought at Oxford thanks,’

She’d clearly hadn’t entirely forgiven my outburst.

I proceeded to tell her about my financial transactions and my purchases to change the subject. I had also intended to tell her about my proposed trip to Nottingham with Joe, but at the last moment I had a change of plan.

‘Julie, how would you fancy coming with me if I were to organise a couple of days to have a look around Nottingham?’ I asked, trying to take her mind off things. ‘I’ll soon have to decide where I’m going to be living when I go up to University.’

‘Wouldn’t you rather go with Joe?’

‘No, I think I’d prefer to go with you on this occasion. This is intended as a ‘fact-finding’ trip and if Joe were to come it might just turn into an excuse for a ‘dirty weekend’. After all, he’s just a bloke and wouldn’t know what to look out for,’ I said, genuinely forgetting about Julie’s origins as I said it.

She coloured and looked away for a moment, but then looked at me shyly.

‘Thank you for saying that. I’d love to go with you,’ she replied.

I smiled and felt a little less like a harpy than I had done of late.

It proved reasonably easy to identify three days together when I wouldn’t have to go in to work, in just over a week’s time. We looked on the Internet and booked a twin room in the Nottingham Travelodge for a couple of nights; not exactly the luxury hotel that I’d originally envisaged but conveniently sited all the same.

---

Both Julie and I were working the next day; Susie had to come in to Bracknell to meet a supplier. She called in to Bentalls at lunch-time and we had a coffee and sandwiches together at a nearby café.

‘Aren’t you worried about Julie working in salon without you being there to keep an eye on her?’ I asked.

‘Not really, Mum and the other girls are all there.’

‘So nobody realises that she used to be a boy?’

‘I think my mother may have some slight suspicions; she asked about exactly who Julie was, but I told her it was better for her not to delve too deeply if she wanted Julie to continue to work for her. Mum really appreciates having her to help, and the other assistants in the shop all get on well with her and seem to accept her as ‘one of girls’.’

‘Julie is a lovely looking girl and I’m sure she’ll be ok in the long term, but at times there is something slightly out of place about her manner that I can’t quite put my finger on.’

‘I think you’re a little paranoid about her Jen. You’ll have to trust her, particularly as she’s going to be on her own come the end of September.’

I then related the tale about our little spat the previous day.

‘I’d be anxious about leaving any sixteen year old girl to fend for herself, let alone one who used to be a boy,’ I replied. ‘She certainly looks and acts the part these days, but sometimes she gives off clues about her origins. How can we help her, to make sure that she’ll be alright come September.’

‘I’m not sure that she needs that much help. Most of the time I forget that she was ever a young man, and the last few rough edges will soon be removed with a little more experience,’ she replied.

‘Maybe we could work out some way of assessing her performance and giving her some feedback as to how she might improve.’

‘Do you mean by devising some kind of ‘girlyness test’ for her?’ she asked laughing.

I was intrigued by the idea, although I was the last person on earth to see myself as a model of femininity.

‘I’ve seen examples of such tests in teenagers’ magazines, but the’re normally totally mindless or else trying to sell more cosmetics, but the idea could be adapted,’ continued Sue.

‘I suppose we could look at the different aspects of her being able to pass successfully as a young woman, such as her appearance, her speech and conversation, her movements and gestures, how she interacts with people and her background knowledge,’ I said. ‘We could mark them according to an agreed scale and come up with an overall assessment together with comments to identify those areas where she needs to improve her presentation.’

‘It’s an interesting idea, but you’d need to break it down quite a lot further. For example, if you took her appearance, it would need to include such things as body shape, complexion, hair style, use of cosmetics, clothes sense, manicure and pedicure’ etc. etc.’

‘Alright, so we might end up with twenty different things to comment on, but if we could mark and comment upon each aspect of her looks and behaviour, we should come up with a useful overall picture.’

‘She already does very well in some of those areas, and there are others where she wouldn’t be able to do anything, at least not in the short term, for example her body shape, or indeed her height - although in her case that isn’t a problem,’ said Susie.

‘I know, but we would still assess them nevertheless to give her an overall picture of those areas where she successfully she presents herself as a young woman, and those which require more care.’

‘We’ve already helped her in terms of her appearance and general behaviour in public, but successful transition would also depend on how she interacts with men as well. If we’re going to do it properly we would also need to recruit at least one guy on to the team of examiners to give his opinion,’ suggested Susie.

‘Joe has met her and spent a little time with her, and I think I could probably trust him not to freak out or sell the story to the local newspaper,’ I said. ‘However, I’d have to ask Julie’s permission before I said anything to him.’

---

That night I started to draw up my list of criteria upon which we might judge Julie’s appearance and demeanour and arranged them under different headings. Somewhat to my surprise, my list soon reached thirty and so I was forced to start combining them to get the number down to twenty five. Thus under ‘appearance,’ I listed: height, weight, hair, eyes, lips, ears, neck, and shoulders, hands and fingernails, boobs, waist, hips, legs and her feet. I also included two more abstract things: her general dress sense and her use of cosmetics. Under the second heading: ‘speech and conversation’ I included: voice pitch and timbre, her use of vocabulary, conversational style and her sense of humour. Under the heading ‘posture, movements and gestures,’ I noted how she stood, walked, climbed stairs, sat, her use of hand gestures and her general body language. Finally, we would seek to award a mark of how she interacts with people.

I arranged each of these criteria down one column of a spreadsheet, and added the initials of the person that I thought might judge best. Thus Sue’s would assess her appearance and I would judge her speech and body language. I also added Joe’s initials in those few places where a man’s input might be helpful. Across the top row of the spreadsheet I added labels containing one of five possible descriptors that would help us assess her performance. Thus for each of the criteria she would be judged as ‘manly’, ‘boyish’, ‘androgynous’, ‘girlish’, or ‘womanly’, and then be awarded between 0 and 4 marks accordingly. This would ultimately give her a score out of 100. In the final column there would be space for specific comments.

In addition to the above Susie and I would draw up a test of her background knowledge of information which we would expect any young woman to know, but wouldn’t necessarily expect a guy to do so.

Before saying anything to Julie about my idea, I emailed the spreadsheet to Sue, asking for her comments and also for any suggestions for the written part of the assessment. Half an hour later she telephoned me with a few minor suggestions to the wording.
‘It’s an interesting idea, Julie will undoubtedly do quite well under several of these criteria,’ said Sue.

‘Yes, no doubt helped in part by the pills she’s been taking and her general enthusiasm for all things ‘girly,’ I replied. ‘But that is good, it will boost her confidence whilst directing her attention to where it is most needed.’

‘I’m not sure how well I’d score on such a test,’ added Sue.

‘Me neither, but if you like we could try it out on one another first,’ I suggested.

‘I’d be happy to try it out on you if you wish, but I’m not having you pass judgment on my dress sense or use of cosmetics if you want us to remain friends with one another,’ she replied decisively.

---

The following day I broached the idea with Julie as we were driving in to work. She was intrigued by the plan and interested to know how she would score.

‘How would you feel if we involved Joe in the process to get the male perspective?’

‘I’m going to have to get used to people knowing all about me — just as long as he doesn’t start telling anyone in authority who might try and stop me from doing what I need to do. Having lived as Julie for nearly a month, I think I would want to kill myself if I had to go back to being Julian again.’

‘Now then young lady, let us not get melodramatic, remember you’ll be sixteen in four weeks time. But at the same time I don’t think you need worry; I’ll make sure he doesn’t tell anyone.’

It turned out that Joe had harboured no suspicions regarding the biological sex of my sibling. He was certainly surprised by the news when I told him on Friday as he called round to the house after work, but was much less fazed than I might have imagined. Once he was sure that I wasn’t just trying to wind him up, he simply shrugged his shoulders.

‘That poor kid, she really has been through a lot recently, but if that’s what she wants in life, then good luck to her.’

‘Joe, you must promise me that you won’t tell anyone else about this, particularly as she is still so young. It’s just the sort of story the Reading Chronicle would love to publish on their front page complete with lurid headlines and references to the recent loss of her parents. If that were to happen, it would bring out a rash of social workers, and convince my mother that I am as irresponsible as she always feared.’

He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes, giving me one of those smiles that make me go weak at the knees.

‘Don’t worry Jen, I promise not to tell anyone about your sister. What she does with her life is entirely her business.’

It is just my luck; for once I get to go out with a decent guy just at the time we’re both planning to move to opposite ends of the country.

I couldn’t stop myself from giving him a hug and a kiss, even if I did have to stand on tip-toe to do so.

‘What was that for?’ he asked.

‘It was to show my appreciation that you didn’t try to say something funny at Julie’s expense, and also that you continue to refer to her as my sister. Some guys would have been quite nasty about her once they’d discovered her origins.’

‘Only those who are unsure of their own gender identity and perhaps also a little jealous of her courage,’ he replied in a matter-of-fact way. ‘Julie has always struck me as being a very attractive young lady, and if I were a year or two younger I might even fancy her myself.’

He said this with a twinkle in his eye, but I attempted to stick my elbow into his rib cage, just the same, although in the event it ended up in his gut due to our height difference. Once he’d regained his breath, I proceeded to explain the purpose of my proposed evaluation. He smiled at the idea, but seemed interested by the concept.

‘So will you be prepared to help us with our evaluation exercise and give us the ‘blokey’ point of view?’ I asked.

‘I’ll do my best to help, but there will be two conditions.’

‘What are they?’ I asked.

‘Firstly, I’ll need to see how Julie copes with everyday life outside of her house and how she gets on with other people, if I am going to do the task properly. What about my suggestion that we should treat our younger sisters to a trip to the cinema some time? It would be a good opportunity for me to see how she manages.

‘You won’t tell your sister about Julie,’ I said, not as a question but as an absolute command.

‘No I won’t say anything, although Clare can be quite observant. If she makes any comment about Julie, I’ll deny all knowledge and assure her that she’s imagining things. I’ll also let you know afterwards.’

‘Alright then, if Julie and Clare are agreeable we can all go and see the latest Harry Potter film tomorrow night if you like. So what’s your other condition?’

‘That you provide me with a second copy of your questionnaire and that I get to evaluate you at the same time.’

‘Why would I want to take a ‘girlyness’ test?’

‘Because I think there is something of an identity struggle going on inside you as well. You’ve grown up as this rebel and tomboy, but I suspect that having to look after your kid sister has brought out a softer, more feminine side to your character, which you never knew was there. I also believe that you‘re just a little bit frightened by that discovery,’ he said giving me an inscrutable smile.

’What is this guy, some kind of amateur psychiatrist?’

I tried to give a dismissive sigh, whilst simultaneously blushing at what he’d just said.

‘Well?’ he asked.

‘Alright, I suppose so, but we’ll have to find a way of anonymizing the results, otherwise I may not want to talk to you ever again.’

---

Julie had been busy upstairs whilst this was happening, drawing up a list of her mother’s possessions with a view to valuing them for inheritance tax purposes. She was entering them on to the computer as I entered the room. She turned to look at me

‘Have you told him?’

I nodded.

‘So how did he react?’ she asked anxiously.

‘Why not come down and find out, he’s sitting in the lounge.’

‘Oh God,’ she responded with sudden trepidation. ‘Do I look alright?’

‘Of course you do,’ I answered smiling at the idea — there were hardly any occasions these days when she failed to come home from work looking anything short of gorgeous. ‘Now come downstairs and talk to Joe, after all he will be carrying out an assessment of you over the next few days.’

She followed me downstairs, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt as she did so.

‘Hi Joe, I gather you now know my little secret,’ she said, clearly trying to sound more confident than she was.

He got up and walked over to her, taking both her hands in his.

‘I’m afraid so Julie, but I want you to know that I am totally cool about it and I’m glad to have been taken into your confidence. I’m just sorry that I won’t be around to see you develop fully into a lovely young woman.’

With that he kissed her on the cheek. Julie went bright red and didn’t answer, but I could see that she was pleased by his reaction.

Eventually I left them talking together whilst I went to the kitchen and hurriedly threw something together for us all to eat.

Over dinner we arranged to go to the cinema the following evening, Joe having checked first that it was alright with his sister as well. He didn’t stay long after dinner though as he often met up with a group of guys for a drink on Friday evenings. This suited me as I had plenty of things to do. I therefore saw him to the front door.

‘Thanks for being such a great guy,’ I said.

‘You’re not too bad yourself,’ he replied kissing me. Then he added as an afterthought, ‘but of course you’ll have to await the results of my evaluation for my detailed comments.’

I stuck my tongue out at him and he left laughing. I went back into the house and found Julie in the kitchen clearing up after the meal.

‘That went much better than I imagined,’ she said. ‘I always assume that people will go ballistic when they discover about me and either want to thump me or else call the authorities and have me carted away to a psychiatric hospital.’

‘Joe is a great guy, and I believe we can rely upon his discretion, but it may not always be the case, so I think you’ll need to continue to watch your step.’

‘I know,’ she replied sadly, ‘but it is nice to know that there are a few people around who do not regard me as some kind of freak’.

I gave her a re-assuring hug.

‘Nobody who really knows you could think of you as being anything other than a lovely young woman. It is just a question of your having to deal with the prejudices of the ignorant and bigoted. It may seem difficult now, but it will get easier, particularly once you are an adult.’

After dinner Julie returned to her calculations and went to my bedroom I where I drew up a revised version of my evaluation plan. In this case my sister and I would each submit ourselves to the opinions of three others: Joe, Sue and I would evaluate Julie’s looks, her demeanour and personality. Julie would then take my place and the three of them would evaluate mine. Sue would receive the questionnaires, aggregate the scores, and record the comments in such a way that they could not be attributed to any one individual. I printed out the relevant copies for all the participants. I would hand over those for Joe when we met the next night to go to the cinema, and I would find an opportunity to give one to Susie the following day.

---

Julie was not quite ready for me when I arrived to pick her up after work the following day, so I got to have a brief chat with Susie, out of public earshot. My sister had already told her that we were all going out to the cinema together, and also how Joe had reacted to the discovery. I therefore used the opportunity to outline my revised evaluation plan and hand over the documents.

‘Are you sure you want to inflict this on yourself? It could be really embarrassing. What would you do if you end up scoring lower than your sister?’ commented Susie.

‘In some aspects I would expect to perform less well than her and wouldn’t be ashamed of doing so,’ I replied defiantly. ‘She already knows a lot more about makeup and hair styles than I do, but I would also hope to be able to demonstrate in other respects that there’s a lot more to being a young woman than the clothes you wear and how you do your hair.’

‘Alright, I’ll co-operate, but I hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘There aren’t many people whose opinion I would respect in such a matter, but for some reason I do trust you three to be honest — you never know, I might even learn something about myself.’

‘You might well do so,’ she echoed. ‘When do you want them back.’

‘Julie and I are driving to Nottingham on Monday and should be back Wednesday night. It would be nice to have them back on Thursday.’

---

Joe’s sister, Clare, turned out to be a typical fourteen year old girl, just beginning to discover the powers that would naturally accrue to her as an attractive young woman. She seemed to have an enthusiasm for young men in general, although, as far as I could gather, she considered most of the specimens that she came into contact with at her school to be lower forms of animal life. She was also quite scathing about most of the adults in her life whilst apparently retaining an affection for, and admiration of, her big brother. For some reason she also seemed to like Julie and myself as well.

Julie, who’d previously had very little contact with girls of her own age, seemed to slip quite easily into ‘teeny talk’ mode. (I suspected that Julian had been furtively observing his female classmates, wishing all the time that he could join in their conversations.) In no time at all they were comparing notes about boy bands and the actors playing Harry Potter and his friends. I squeezed Joe’s hand and gestured with my head to get him to notice their animated conversation. He ostentatiously took a notebook from his pocket and wrote something down.

‘You’d better not do that about me, if you wish to retain the use of both of your testicles,’ I whispered.

He gave me a cheeky grin and then wrote something down on the next page of his book.

I think we all enjoyed the film. I’d rather grown up with the Harry Potter stories and regarded the characters as my contemporaries, it was odd therefore to witness my little sister and her new young friend discussing them in the way that Susie and I used to do. Julie gave me no real cause for concern during the course of the evening, and I didn’t even worry when she and Clare went off to the ‘Ladies’ together.

Joe invited us back to his house for a coffee after the film. I was a little hesitant to do so as I have a horror of being paraded in front of the parents of my boyfriends like some prize heifer. However Joe assured me that his mum and dad were out and would not be back for some time. Clare promptly took Julie up to her room to discuss nail varnish, pop videos or some other equally weighty topic, so I joined Joe on the sofa, and handed over the evaluation.

‘If Julie can survive up there for the next hour without being discovered, I don’t think she will have too many problems in the future,’ commented Joe.

‘So do you think she’ll pass alright then?’

‘I think so,’ he replied. I’m not quite so sure about her sister though,’ he replied smiling, then put his arm round me.

‘Watch it, big boy, or you may just find yourself singing soprano in the choir next Sunday,’ I replied snuggling up to him.

---

When I came to filling in my copy of Julie’s assessment the following morning I found the task to be quite challenging. I didn’t want to undermine her growing self-assurance, yet at the same time I didn’t want to give her false confidence and so make her reckless. It was a fine balance intended for the time when I would no longer be around to keep an eye on her.

She had certainly created a good impression when we went out the previous day and Joe had confirmed to me by the phone that his sister had made no comment about Julie other than she seemed to be ‘quite cool’. Looking through the criteria there was no doubt that my sister would score quite well across the board, although some of that was due to padding, false hair, or her developing skills with cosmetics. However, she also seemed to be making an effort with her body language and voice, and Susie and I had gently nudged her fashion sense so that there were now fewer incongruities in her presentation than there had been at the outset. No doubt living with me and working in an all female environment was helping in this respect. I really couldn’t think of any area where I would now describe her appearance or presentation as either ‘manly’, or ‘boyish’, although there were a number of girls of my acquaintance where these adjectives might reasonably apply. There were certainly aspects of her presentation that might be described as ‘androgynous,’ but equally this adjective might be applied to myself as well. So why was I being so paranoid about allowing her a little more freedom to go out and meet people as a young woman? I suppose it was that I was really beginning to care about my young sister and didn’t want to think that any harm or unhappiness should befall her after I left.

This realisation brought me back to thinking about my planned departure date which was just over five weeks away. I even wondered whether I might defer entry to University for a year, until after Julie was settled and her financial affairs were sorted. But would I be any happier about leaving her on her own as a seventeen year old than I was about leaving her at sixteen, and what would I say to Mum and Dad? Also the new Government was talking about implementing a steep rise in University tuition fees beginning in 2012, which would wipe out much of my inheritance, and in any event I’d been looking forward to leaving the Thames Valley and going to Uni for the last few years. I may not have liked the idea but told myself that I would just have to harden my heart and leave Julie to fend for her self as best she could. After all, two months ago I’d never even met her and was barely aware that she existed. It was with these sombre reflections that I completed her evaluation as honestly as I could and added a few comments about what aspects of her appearance and presentation struck me as being not quite right or otherwise unusual in a sixteen year old girl, and how she might remedy them, before emailing it to Susie.

I felt pretty depressed and guilty for the rest of that Sunday. Joe was out playing cricket again, Susie was seeing her boyfriend and Julie was busy filling in forms on her computer. I felt so flat that I even thought about driving over to Bracknell to see Mum and Dad although I eventually decided against it. After all, I’d seen them only a fortnight before and didn’t want to have to answer any more questions about our trip to Nottingham on Monday or indeed risk saying anything about our planned week in Thailand at the end of the month.

It's just over 140 miles from Woodley to Nottingham, on motorways almost all the way, and so the journey takes about three and a half hours including a brief comfort break at a Service Area. Julie and I chatted together quite happily about the film, our respective jobs and the progress of her mother’s probate for the first forty-five minutes or so and she kept an eye open for signposts and motorway exits for me. However, once we were clear of the M25 London orbital motorway and the journey involved driving north on the M1 for a hundred miles, we both lapsed into our own thoughts. I began to realise that I’d soon be taking an important step in my life, from which it would be almost impossible for me to come back. I would be moving away from my family, friends and everything that I was comfortable with, to start a new life in a different part of the country. It would be too far and too expensive for me to travel back to Bracknell more than once a term and at the vacations, so after September I would have to make my own life with new people. From past experience I was fairly confident that I would be alright, and would probably have a good time, but the prospect was a little bit scary all the same.

I glanced across at Julie and noticed that she too was now deep in thought. As usual, she looked very smart with perfect makeup and not a hair out of place, but her usually serene face also looked a little apprehensive. The changes that she was beginning to undergo in her life were far more drastic and far-reaching than those in mine, and she would be facing them without the support of friends or parents. I may get exasperated with my Mum and Dad at times and am not afraid to tell them so, but deep down I know that they will always be there for me, if I should need them. Julie, on the other hand, was truly alone in the world now, and would always be so.

I forced myself to start thinking of something less gloomy, and then smiled to myself as I noticed my beautifully manicured and painted finger nails holding the steering wheel. I hadn’t removed the extensions after a fortnight, as I’d originally intended to do, but had left them in place and was now quite used to having them. I’d even carefully renewed the lacquer on one of the nails after it had been chipped at work. There was no doubt that my attitude to my appearance had changed over the last few weeks and I took more care with my hair and makeup. This was partly because it was expected for my job, but also partly through Julie’s influence, just as Susie and I had been a calming influence on my sister’s fashion sense. I doubted whether this was a permanent change on my part though and assumed I would gradually slip back in to my old comfortable ways once the influence of my work and my sister was no longer present.

We pulled in to Newport Pagnell Services to go to the loo and for a cup of coffee, which was two-thirds of the way to our destination. It was the second week in August, the height of the holiday season and I guess some coaches had pulled up shortly before we did, as there was a long line waiting to use the toilet.

‘Is there always a queue to use ‘the ladies’ in these places?’ whispered my sister to me as we patiently waited our turn for a cubicle.’

‘Welcome to the ‘real world', Julie. I’m afraid that’s something you’re going to have to get used to if you want to join our ranks,’ I whispered in reply, first making sure that nobody else in the queue could overhear me.

She didn’t answer at the time but returned to what I’d said as we drank our coffee.

‘Jen, I hope you understand that my living as Julie is not so much a question of what ‘I want’, as what I ‘need to do’, if I am going to retain my sanity.’

‘In that case queuing for the ladies' toilet is a relatively small price to pay,’ I replied, smiling.

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘There are plenty of other disadvantages to being a woman that you will discover in due course, but also many benefits,’ I continued cheerfully.

‘Yes, as I’m beginning to find out, I am so much happier as Julie, but again it is not really a question of advantages and disadvantages, but who I really am. Ever since I’ve become Julie full-time I have known that it was right for me. Julie is who I am, and I could never now be anyone else.’

I smiled and squeezed her hand re-assuringly, not knowing how else to react. There was no question in the mind of my sister as to the direction she wished to take, in spite of all the potential difficulties. I had rarely come across somebody as single minded as she was. But then I tried to imagine myself in her situation. What would I think if I’d been born with a male body and female mind? I couldn’t really conceive what it would be like. I’m happy with who I am, and just hope that Julie will eventually be able to find that peace of mind.

---

We arrived in Nottingham at lunchtime, far too early to check in to our hotel room and so instead of driving to the city centre we made our way out to the University campus. I’d been shown round one of the University Residences when I came up for the open day, and had seen details of the remainder on the Web. The one I saw wasn’t too bad, and was no doubt selected to show to potential students because it was one of the better examples, but it did contain shared bathrooms and kitchens with no independent cleaners. I knew from experience that these could become pretty squalid. If the worse came to the worse I would just have to live with it, at least for the first year until I met someone whom I could share a flat with, but before I did so I wanted to check out the alternatives.

The list of private student accommodation contained a large number of addresses in Beeston, which was once a separate small town near to Nottingham but has since become engulfed into a suburb. It lay on the far edge of the campus and was clearly the chosen place of residence for many University staff and students. The area looked alright: a nice mix of architecture, a fairly cosmopolitan population, and no obvious signs of gangs, prostitution or drug dealing. We made a few telephone calls and arranged to go and have a look at several of the advertised rooms available that were still available.

The various bedsits that we saw that afternoon weren’t too bad, and were somewhat cheaper than an equivalent room would have been in Reading or Bracknell, but there was nothing that really grabbed me as somewhere I would like to live for the next nine months. There were no signs of any bagpipe players in the houses we visited, although one couldn't really tell from a twenty minute visit. We did, however, meet at least one serial killer - one of the landlords who was really creepy and seemed to be sizing both Julie and I up as we spoke, and who also had small mounds of earth in his back garden. (Julie afterwards said that he was probably just growing a late crop of potatoes, but personally I wasn’t so sure.)

By the time we made our way back into the city centre in the early evening, we’d looked at five possible places, three of which would probably have been alright but none truly inspiring. (I drew the line at the serial killer, not wishing to end up in his potato patch, even though his bedsit was otherwise ok.)

At six p.m. we found our hotel (thanks mainly to Satellite navigation) and checked into our room. Julie promptly unpacked our two cases, hung up the clothes, organised the bathroom and made us both a cup of coffee, before I’d even had a chance to stretch out on my chosen bed for a few minutes recuperation after the long drive.

‘We’d better find ourselves an evening meal,’ I suggested, ‘and then we can perhaps discuss the places we’ve seen so far.’

‘Great,’ she replied. ‘I’ll just need to freshen up my makeup first.’

---

Nottingham seemed to be quite a lively and interesting city with loads of bars and places to eat, although we had to avoid the former as Julie was under age, even if she tended to look like an eighteen-year old these days. We eventually settled on an Italian restaurant just off Trinity Square.

‘So what do you think I should do Julie?’ I asked.

‘I think I’d probably go for the offer of a place in the Hall of residence for the first year, even if it is more expensive and you do have to put up with a little squalor for a while.’ she said.

‘Really!’

‘I’ll have no choice but to live on my own for the next couple of years, but given the choice I’d always prefer to share with someone else, so long as they accepted me as I am.’

‘It is a pity that you couldn’t come and live in Nottingham, I’d have no problem in sharing with you,’ I replied, feeling a little sad at the prospect of our going our separate ways.

She looked truly surprised by my comment.

‘Do you really mean that?’ she asked.

‘Good heavens yes, I’d be happy to have you as a flatmate anytime, as long as you promise to give up trying to turn me into a ‘girly girl’. You are quiet, tidy, industrious and also good company. I’d also be able to keep an eye on you and make sure you do not fall prey to any fortune hunters.’

‘What's there to stop me from moving to Nottingham and sharing a flat with you?’ she asked tentatively.

‘I don’t know,’ I said beginning to think through the implications of what I had just suggested. ‘I suppose I was wondering what would happen about your house in Woodley, and in any event I thought you had arranged to go back to school in September.’

‘I will be sixteen and won’t have to go back to school if I choose not to. In any event, I could never go back to the same school that Julian used to attend. I’ve been thinking about studying at home by distance learning and perhaps going to a Further Education College once I’d become settled and found a doctor willing to oversee my transition.’

‘And what about the house?’

‘I want to sell it as quickly as possible and move away after the Grant of Probate. Once you’ve left it will be only a matter of time before one of the neighbours begins to wonder who that girl living there really is.’

‘Yes, I think you’re right.’

I could put the house in the hands of an Estate Agent, and perhaps reduce the price a little so that it was a bargain and didn’t take too long to sell.’

‘In that case, Julie my sister, would you like to come to Nottingham with me and share a flat?’

Her face visibly began to light up as I asked.

‘Oh Jenny, there’s nothing I would like more.’

‘It’s odd the neither of us had thought about the possibility before,’ I commented.

‘I’ve thought about the possibility many times over the last few weeks, but didn’t feel I could ask you, as you’ve already been so kind to me.’

‘Really? You’d have saved me an awful lot of worry and feeling guilty over the last few days if you had mentioned it,’ I said taking her hand and laughing.

Once we’d finished our meal we returned to the hotel room and began to make plans, both to start looking for a two-bed-roomed flat to share and also for our longer term future.

‘It depends on how quickly the grant of probate comes through. I’ve done all the calculations and am almost ready for you to submit all the forms to the Probate Office, which we’ll do when we return. If the Revenue and Customs accept my valuations of the house and its contents, and my calculation of the amount of tax payable, then we should hear from them shortly after our return from Thailand,’ she said.

‘We’re going to have to tell my parents about you and our plans to share a flat at some point, when we do so, we could perhaps involve my Dad. He works for a firm of Estate Agents in Bracknell and is often involved in selling empty houses, where the previous occupant has died, or had to go into a nursing home.’

‘How will your parents react when they learn about me?’ asked Julie.

‘Hmm, I’m not sure. My Mum tends to have a very narrow focus about what is ‘appropriate’ in life, and is constantly worried about ‘what the neighbours might say’, but Dad is a bit more broad-minded and easy going. We’ll have to be careful how we break it to Mum, but if we can get Dad on our side first of all he can usually bring her round.’

‘In that case it might be better if he we deferred telling them until after I’m sixteen and have begun taking the hormones,’ said Julie.

‘Yes, you’re probably right.’

---

Our second day in Nottingham was therefore spent looking at two-bedroomed flats in the vicinity of the University. There were fewer of them available, but generally speaking they worked out as better value from a rental point of view. Most of those we looked at however had one double-bedroom and a second far smaller single and so wouldn’t be ideal for two girls paying an equal share of the costs. We were just leaving the third example, just off Queens Road, when Julie pointed to a block of new flats, only recently completed and with a ‘For Sale’ sign displayed outside.

‘It looks like one of them has been furnished as a ‘show-house, shall we ask to see inside?’

We applied to look at a 2nd floor flat which had recently been completed and decorated. It seemed absolutely designed for us with a large living room, a modern looking fitted kitchen, two double bedrooms both with had fitted wardrobes, and an attractive bathroom. There was access to a garage in an adjoining block. It was also within walking distance of the University campus.

‘What do you think Jenny?’ she asked as we looked around.

‘It would be ideal for the pair of us if only it were available for rent.’

‘It would be  £140,000 to buy, property prices here are a lot lower than in Woodley. I would be able to afford to buy it outright once the Probate on my mother’s estate is granted. Then you could rent a room from me,’ suggested Julie.

‘Would they sell a flat to a sixteen year old?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know, but if not they would certainly do so to an eighteen year old. Remember you will be responsible for my finances whilst you are disposing of my mother’s assets. That process can take up to two years. During that period there would be nothing to stop you from buying it on my behalf, using the money in my mother’s account and before we have even sold the house at Woodley.’

‘Is that legal?’

‘Yes, of course! I’ll have to have somewhere to live once I vacate the house at Woodley.’

---

We went over to the site office and explained to the saleswoman Julie’s situation regarding probate and our wish to move to the flat in about four or five weeks. The summer of 2010 had been a particularly slow time for new house sales and there were several flats nearing completion all of which were then unsold. As a result the company bent over backwards to be accommodating to us. After various questions and assurances regarding our current and future financial position, and my own and Julie’s legal status, and a phone call to Head Office, they came up with a proposition. If we left a 10% deposit (which we could easily afford) they would rent a new flat to us on an ‘Assured Short-hold Tenancy’* for the duration of the academic year at  £750 per month (somewhat more than we’d originally planned). As long as our proposed purchase was completed within six months of our moving in, the rent we had paid and the deposit would count towards the purchase price. If we were unable to complete the purchase within that time we would still have the tenancy until the following June. We came away from the flat with various brochures, promising to let them have our decision the following morning. For the rest of the day and that evening we drove around the area, looking at such things as local shops and amenities, bus routes etc to ensure that it was the sort of place we would wish to live.

‘So what do you think Julie?’

‘I’ve always intended to find somewhere to live and make a fresh start as Julie, where there was no danger that I would one day run into someone who knew Julian or my parents. I think this could be just the place and it’ll be an extra bonus to share a flat with my sister. Let us go back and have another look at the flat tomorrow, and if we are both still happy with the idea we’ll go ahead with the purchase.’

‘That sounds fine by me,’ I replied.

---

Shortly after lunch on the Wednesday we began our car journey back to Woodley, having found somewhere for us both to live and begun the process that would enable us to move in to a new flat in time for the start of my University Term.

‘That’s a relief to know I’ll have somewhere nice to live and I won’t be on my own,’ I said as we began the drive back to Woodley.’

‘Things are really working out well for me, as well. It’s just now a question of collecting my female hormones from Thailand and then I can forget that Julian ever existed,’ said Julie happily.

‘Be careful not to get over-confident, there are still things which could go wrong. Someone may recognise you, or Probate may be delayed. Also I still have to break the news that we are intending to go on holiday together to my parents over the next few days.’

‘We are also due to have the results of our girlyness tests tomorrow,’ said Julie.

‘Yes, I’d forgotten all about them.’

* Assured Short-hold Tenancy is an form of Assured tenancy with limited security of tenure often used by students wishing to rent a property for a short period.

We’d arranged with Susie that she would come over to Woodley on Thursday evening, so that she could present us with the findings of our ‘girlyness’ tests. I was also looking forward to breaking the news to her about our new flat, but had reckoned without my pesky little sister who was unable to restrain her enthusiasm and blurted it out to her at work. However, I suppose it was Julie’s money that was enabling us to move in to somewhere so nice, and I did get to tell Joe, so I couldn’t really complain. I also rang mum to confirm that I’d found somewhere affordable to live and would not now need to resort to selling my body on the streets of Nottingham, but I didn’t give too many details on the phone, promising to come over and see them later in the week instead.

Susie came back to Woodley with us after work and we proceeded to show her the brochures and tell her about the new flat and the neighbourhood. Joe had also promised to call round later in the evening, He arrived at about 8.00 pm and so we all sat down together to discuss the results.

Susie opened the proceedings. ‘Let’s begin with you Julie, as it was for your benefit that the test was designed. Between the three of us we have awarded you a score of 74%, which, given the circumstances is very good. It is also quite remarkable that we all tended to agree with one another in our assessment.’

‘Thank you,’ said Julie, looking both embarrassed and happy at the same time,

‘You’re already quite fortunate in terms of your height and weight, which are about average for a girl of your age, also your neck, shoulders, hands and feet have not grown as they would have done in a young man after puberty,’ continued Sue. ‘No doubt this is due to the pills you have been taking over the last couple of years. As you realise, your overall body shape is still rather boyish and you have to rely on padding to pass successfully as a young woman, but no doubt this will improve once you start taking oestrogen.’

‘I know,’ said Julie continuing smile shyly. ‘I can’t wait until my birthday comes and I can begin to take hormones, it’ll be the best birthday present I’ve ever had.’

Joe looked a little bemused at this and raised his eyebrows when looking at me, but didn’t say anything.

‘If my boobs haven’t grown to a decent size by the time I’m eighteen, I intend to have a boob job,’ she continued.

‘Let’s cross one bridge at a time,’ I added trying to curb her enthusiasm.

‘You’ve also scored highly with your hair and fingernails, but of course you have had them both done by an expert,’ Sue continued, pausing briefly to give us the opportunity to make disparaging comments about her, which we did. ‘Likewise you have scored highly in your use of cosmetics, which is no doubt due to the experience you’ve gained working in the salon over the last couple of weeks.’

‘Yes, it has been great fun,’ added Julie enthusiastically.

‘But we all feel that you should pay more attention to your dress sense.’

‘Oh!’ she said in a surprised voice.

‘It is not that you look like a man or anything like that, but sometimes your choice is simply too ‘girly’ for the occasion and so you stand out a little. There will be times when you want to stand out from the crowd and have everyone’s eyes on you, but on other occasions you should aim to look like a smart, businesslike or demure young lady rather than an aspiring beauty queen.’

‘Yes, I know,’ she answered sighing, ‘Jenny’s always telling me as much. But after all those years of having to wear horrible boys’ clothes, it has been nice to be able to wear something pretty over the last few weeks.’

‘We’re not suggesting that you start wearing sackcloth or drab clothes all the time, but just get the balance right between the girly, the practical, and the comfortable.’ I added.

‘I do find girly clothes comfortable to wear, because they make me feel good. But I do take your point and will try and tone things down a little in future.

‘I’m sure this will come to you quite naturally as you gain more experience living as Julie and interacting with people, and especially once the novelty of living as a girl has worn off,’ added Sue.

‘I hope it never wears off, but see, Jenny, it is important for me to get out more as Julie and not be stuck round the house all day,’ she said to me.

‘I take your point, but let’s see how you got on under the other headings,’ I replied.

‘Your voice has never broken and so you do not have any problems with your voice pitch and timbre, but of course this is only one aspect of speech and conversation. You’ll need to think about your use of vocabulary and general conversational style. Again it is probably just a question of a little more practice, and listening to the conversation of other girls of your age.’

Julie shot a smug glance in my direction, as if to say ‘I told you so!’

Susie looked again at the pile of papers in her hand.

‘In terms of your posture, gait and general body language, we found nothing that might give you away, but areas where you might look carefully at other young women.’

‘Julie got on fine with my sister last week and didn’t give herself away. Perhaps I could ask Clare if Julie could like to go out with her and her friends sometime, as they all live over the other side of Reading and would be unlikely ever to have met Julian.’

‘Oh yes please,’ said Julie. ‘I enjoyed talking to your sister. I’ve found helping out in the salon to be so useful, but of course I only get to meet older women there. That’s why I am keen to get out more so that I can also interact with guys as well.’

‘I think you are still a bit too young, and your life is a bit too complicated as it is to be worrying about guys,’ I answered primly, realising that it sounded a bit pompous and indeed a little hypocritical given some of the things I used to get up to as a fifteen year old. But there was still the issue of what would happen if the neighbours, and then the authorities should discover about her lifestyle whilst she was still a minor.

‘In the past you’ve never gave me any clue that you were anything other than a normal genetic girl,’ added Joe. ‘Even since I’ve known, and have been watching you more carefully, I find it impossible to think of you as anything else. No doubt there’ll come a time when you will meet someone and want to form a closer relationship. When that happens, you’ll have to ‘play it by ear’, but will probably know instinctively how to behave.’

‘I hope so, but I feel so frustrated. I feel as if I have been kept in a cage for the last fifteen years and I can’t wait to be set free to live my own life as a woman.’

‘You could be free to be your own woman at any time after your sixteenth birthday, but I rather got the impression that you wanted my help and companionship,’ I added.

‘Don’t get me wrong Jenny, I am so grateful for everything you have done for me over the last few weeks and there is nothing I want more than to share a flat with you, but I want to do so as an equal, not some embarrassing relation who needs to be kept hidden away at home.

‘If you’ll only follow my advice and not go out on your own for the next couple of weeks, whilst we are still living at Woodley, I promise you’ll have much more freedom when we both move to Nottingham and I am at University. Also, if Joe’s sister is prepared to have you meet up with her friends sometimes that will also be alright with me.’

‘I suppose what we are saying is that you are doing very well indeed with your transition, but you are not there yet and need more practice,’ said Sue, handing over the questionnaires to Julie. ‘There are still dangers because of your youth and legal situation, but these are only temporary ones. I am sure all will be alright for you in the end, just be a little more patient.

‘I suppose you are right, and I do understand that you have my safety and well-being at heart. Thank you everybody for your advice,’ said Julie.

I went over to give her a hug.

‘Now how did Jenny get on?’

Susie seemed a little sheepish, and I could just foresee what was about to happen.

‘Are you sure you want to know Jen?’

‘Yes, quite sure. If you don’t tell me I’ll only assume that you all think I am some kind of monster’

‘Well I should begin by saying that you did agree to put yourself through this, and also designed the questions for Julie’s benefit.’

‘I know. Go on.’

‘Jen we all think you’re a lovely person, a great friend and a lot of fun to know. We also think that you’re much better looking than you give yourself credit for, and so have scored very highly in all those aspects relating to your body shape etc. However, we all feel that you sometimes fail to make the best of yourself. It has been noticeable how much better you have looked since you started working in Bentalls and begun to use a little more makeup.’

Julie gave me one of her ‘I told you so’ looks and I couldn’t help from blushing. I’d really let myself in for that one.

‘If only you would just grow your hair and not be so frightened of wearing dresses from time to time you would look really great. This pre-occupation with Jeans and tops all the time is not always appropriate. In many ways you’re the opposite of Julie in terms of your dress sense, it is almost as if you are frightened of being a girl.’

‘Et tu Susie,’ I thought, remembering my Julius Caesar.

However, as I said, things have been improving recently and you and your sister do seem to be having a good influence on one another.’

‘You all think that?’ I asked

‘Yes I’m afraid so.’

I sighed.

‘The one area where we disagreed is in terms of the way you present yourself to the world and so we have agreed to tell you individually I’ve known you for much longer than the others, and you’ve always been good fun to have as a friend, and loyal, but you did gain this reputation at school for being a bit of a tomboy and a tearaway.’

‘You mean I was the one who always got caught, whereas you, little Miss Goody Two Shoes, would stand by looking innocent.’

‘Well maybe that’s one aspect of being a girl that you have never quite mastered, knowing when to curb your tongue and act as if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. I love having you as a friend and will miss you very much when you go to University, but you’ve never exactly been a girly girl.'

I knew she was probably right, and six weeks ago I would have been happy to admit it, but now I wasn’t quite so sure.

‘You’ve always been kind and considerate to me, in fact an ideal big sister. ‘I don’t know how I would have coped without you,’ added Julie, ‘even if you do have a sharp tongue at times.

‘You don’t know half of what I might have said to you, but just managed to stop mself,’ I thought to myself.

‘Thank you,’ I replied, thankful for small mercies.

‘The trouble with your questionnaire was that there was nowhere for me to say that you were a lovely sexy girlfriend, whom I’ll miss so much when we both go to different universities,’ said Joe in order to soften the blow.

‘And my bruises have healed,’ he added as an afterthought.

‘You’d better tell me how much I scored,’ I said to Sue.

‘You scored 69, but it was your choice of criteria and there is so much more to being a woman than the superficial things you asked us to assess, and you could easily have scored more with minor changes to your dress and your hair, so please don’t shoot the messenger,’ added Susie.

‘No matter what I do and how hard I try I’ll never be able to be as much a woman as you are. I’ll never be able to have a baby,’ added Julie sadly.

‘It seems I’m the one who shouldn’t be allowed out on my own.’ I replied.

I let them all think I was more upset than I actually was so that everyone would go out of their way to be nice to me for the rest of the evening, but in the end I made it clear that I had no hard feelings. I’d laid the trap and then fallen in to it myself and had to accept the consequences. However, what was said that evening did cause me to spend several sleepless hours trying to work out exactly who I was and who I wanted to be, over the next few nights. Something I’d never had cause to think about before. I’d just accepted myself and never cared what other people thought.

I drove over to have dinner with Mum and Dad on Sunday as I needed to tell them about our planned trip to Thailand on the 25th August. I couldn’t delay telling them much longer as Susie’s mother now knew she was going and there was always a chance she might run into my mother in Bracknell some time. I went out of my way to give a good impression, and even allowed Julie to give me advice on what to wear. I also took with me the details of my present to them to both to mark my good fortune - a luxury weekend in Paris via the Eurostar rail service, which I knew Dad would appreciate. I also had two small presents that I’d bought for them in Nottingham — a piece of lace for Mum and a book about the local Railways for Dad (what is it with middle-aged men and trains?)

All went well, I was complimented on my appearance, and my various gifts were received graciously. We even sat down to a meal together and chatted happily just as we used to do years ago. It was obviously the right time to bring up about our proposed trip.

‘By the way Julian’s parents had booked to take him on holiday to Thailand at the end of the month. The hotel and flights are paid for so Susie and I will be taking their place.’

There was neither the explosion of anger nor the flat refusal to let me go that I was expecting, merely the warning that we should all be careful out there.

‘I trust Susie to keep an eye on you and make sure that you don’t do anything silly.’

Thanks a lot for that vote of confidence Mum.’

‘And I trust you, Jen, to keep an eye on Julian; remember he is a minor and so will be your responsibility,’ added Dad.

That was just about as good a result as I might have expected and so I decided to let them know our plans to share a flat in Nottingham, although did not feel it was the right time to explain that it would be with my half-sister rather than my half brother. Our plans were met with some surprise, but I quickly explained the various advantages — that I would get to live somewhere nice, affordable and convenient for the University, and that I would get to keep an eye on Julian.

‘I hope you’ll also be a calming influence on one another,’ added Dad, but didn't raise any major objections.

‘But is it wise for you to be sharing a flat with a young man?’ asked Mum.

‘What is it with this obsession she has that I’ll want to sleep with my brother at any opportunity? Exactly what does she think I am?’

However, I did my best to restrain my natural sense of indignation.

‘Mum, it’ll be fine. I’ve known Julian for several weeks and trust him with my honour.’

‘Yes, but he may have friends round to stay.’

‘In that case I’ll lock my bedroom door.’

‘I’m sure that Jenny is old enough to look after herself now and is likely to meet far worse dangers than her half-brother and his friends,’ added Dad.

‘That may be so, but I’ll want to have a long talk to you both before you go,’ said Mum.

‘Alright but let it wait until after we come back from Thailand, as things are rather hectic at the moment.’

You’ll have a surprise in store when it comes to that interview.

Those last two weeks of August before we left for Thailand were a busy time for all of us. Both Julie and I continued to work part-time and Joe had a full-time Job. By an awkward co-incidence, he had arranged to go away with some friends for the fortnight which began on 4th September, the day we were due to return from Thailand. He and I would therefore have only one more week together after his return, during which we would both be preparing to go to our respective Universities. I think we both realised that the next fortnight would be our final time together, and that we should make the most of it. No doubt we would promise one another to stay in touch, and would also probably arrange to come back to visit our respective parents at the same time so we could meet up, but I think we also both aware that such a long distance relationship was never going to work, and before Christmas we’d both have forged new lives.

Joe didn’t forget his promise to Julie, however. We were both invited to have dinner with his parents and his sister. (I only agreed to go as he’d assured me that his parents knew perfectly well that I was not a potential daughter-in-law.) After the meal Julie disappeared with Clare up to her bedroom and that was the last we saw of them for the rest of the evening. The following evening Joe brought his sister over to Woodley with him when he came. After that Julie spent much of her free time in the company of Clare and her school friends, and seemed to be a lot happier to be experiencing life as an ordinary fifteen year old girl. She assured me that neither Clare nor any of her friends acted as if they suspected anything unusual about her, and she seemed to be losing those last lingering traces of boyishness that we’d pointed out to her.

Julie now had more free time when she was not helping at the salon as she’d finished all the paperwork relating to her mother’s probate before we left for Nottingham, so I signed and sent off the various forms as soon as we returned. It was now just a question of our waiting for a response from the authorities, which we expected to receive at roughly the same time that we were due back from holiday. I included a letter with our application stating our intention of moving to Nottinghamshire in late September and asking, if possible, to have a Probate interview before I left. There were a few other bureaucratic things to be done, however, notably a letter to her school from me, explaining that ‘Julian’ would not be returning next term but would be joining me in Nottingham where ‘he’ would resume his education.

Julie, Sue and I did have one opportunity to go shopping together in Reading though, to get ourselves some clothes for our holiday. Julie had inherited quite a few nice things from her mother including some rather stylish sun glasses, but she was increasingly beginning to get the feel of what clothes were right for her to wear and wanted to buy some new things of her own. She also used the opportunity to try on a number of different outfits and ask us what we thought. In the end we bought a couple of sun dresses each, and Julie and I jointly invested in some sun block and insect repellent.

‘You’ll soon have to decide what you’re going to wear for the journey as you’re going to have to travel dressed as a guy,’ I said as we were queuing to pay for them.

Julie sighed and looked as if I was reminding her of something she’d far rather forget, and it was a few seconds before she answered.

‘Mum had some jeans, a denim shirt and some trainers that will fit me. They all look fairly androgynous;’ I thought I might wear those.’

‘Couldn’t you wear some of Julian’s clothes that have been sitting untouched in your old wardrobe?’ I asked.

‘I could, but I don’t really want to if I can avoid it. I feel that Julian is now in the past and don’t really wish to be reminded of that time.’

‘You can’t really avoid doing so, remember that your ticket and passport show a young man named Julian, and so you will need to make some effort to look like him,’ I commented.

‘I know, and I suppose I’ll have to lose my extensions as well,’ she answered sadly. ‘But it will only be as I pass through the passport control. I intend to spend the rest of my time there as Julie, so I’ll have to take Mum’s wig with me as well.’

‘I’ve been thinking about that, and was also talking to one of my clients, who has recently come back from a holiday in Thailand,’ said Susie. ‘It would be a shame to lose your nice hair and finger nails and I think we ought to be able to get you there dressed as Julie, at least. It may be a little more complicated to get you back into the UK as her though.’

‘That would be something,’ said Julie, suddenly cheering up. ‘I really want to look my best when I go for my appointment at the clinic.’

‘You’d better explain what is on your mind,’ I said cautiously.

‘I think you should dress androgynously without jewelry or makeup, just in case anyone decides to looks carefully, and in any event it will be more practical. But I don’t see why we can’t just tie your hair back in a ponytail. The only times your passport will be examined on the way out is when you check in and when you pass through the Passport Control at Bangkok. These days we can all check in online and print off our boarding passes. Once we’ve done so you can disappear to ‘the Ladies’ whilst Susie and I drop off our luggage, taking Julian’s passport with us. The airline staff are only concerned that the name on the boarding card and that on the passport are the same, at that stage.’

‘But won’t we also have to go through Security at Heathrow as well?’ I asked.

‘Yes, but they do not check passports at that stage. As long as we are sure that she is not carrying any forbidden or metallic items, Julie should be able to pass through the scanner without being stopped or searched individually.’

‘Alright, but what about when we get to Bangkok?’ asked Julie.

‘I’m told that the immigration officers there are only interested in two things: that you have a passport which is valid for the duration of your stay and that you have a return plane ticket. More often than not they do not even glance at the photograph. If they do look carefully then all they would see would be a rather effeminate young man, which is no big deal in Thailand. The authorities in there are much more used to dealing with young ‘katoey’ or ‘ladyboys’ than they are in this country.’

‘Well that would be far preferable to having to arrive at the hotel looking like a boy,’ she said with some distaste, but what is different about the return journey?’

‘The main difficulty on the return journey will be at the Immigration Control at Heathrow. The officers are required to compare the face in front of them with that on the passport and they are bound to notice. But you are not pretending to be someone else, or trying to gain illegal entry to the country. You’d just be a young boy who’d decided to let his hair and nails grow like a girl — so what? The worst they could do is to ask you a few more questions.’

‘What do you think Jen?’ asked Julie.

‘I suppose we could give it a try on the outward journey, and then decide what you do on the return on the basis of how you get on.’

Julie gave us both another of her lovely smiles, that any other time would have brightened up the day and warmed our hearts, but by this time we’d left the shop and were sweltering in the midday sunshine of a mini August heat wave.

---

Dad rang me at the weekend and offered to drive us to the airport the following week. That was really sweet of him as he normally worked on Saturdays, and so would have had to alter his work routine to do so. Any other time I’d have been happy to accept his offer, but I’d already agreed with Julie that she could travel en femme or at least en androgynie (if there is such a phrase), and so I preferred to avoid awkward explanations at this stage. There would be plenty of time for those later on, by which time Julie would at least be sixteen and could, theoretically at least, live as she wished.

‘Thanks Dad, but there’ll be three of us and all our luggage, so that will be a bit too much for your car.’

‘It’ll probably be ok, if you don’t mind squashing up together,’ he continued.

‘No, honestly, Julie only lives a quarter of a mile from Earley station and …’

‘Julie?’ he interrupted in a puzzled voice.

‘Sorry! It’s just my pet name for my little half-brother. ‘

‘I know he’s not very well developed for his age, but you shouldn’t take the Mickey out of him,’ said Dad.

‘I don’t as a rule — at least not to his face.’

‘Hmm’, said Dad with a note of disapproval.

‘From Earley we can get a train to Feltham, picking up Susie at Bracknell along the way,’ I replied, quickly reverting back to my previous subject. ‘There’s a frequent bus service from Feltham station to all the Heathrow Terminals. It’s one of the few recompenses for having to live where we do, that you can get to Heathrow relatively easily and cheaply’.

‘Alright then, if you’re sure you don’t need me.’

‘But thanks for the offer, and thanks also for sticking up for me in front of Mum last week.’

‘That’s what Dads are for,’ he replied. ‘But don’t be too hard on your Mum: she may be sharp-tongued and a little rigid in her views but she usually comes round in the end, and underneath she does care about you.’

‘I realise that,’ I replied.

I just hope that I don’t end up like her,’ I thought as I cancelled the call.

---

I was just beginning to think about what clothes I was going to take with me on holiday, when Julie and Clare came to my room, with an entreating look on their faces that immediately put me on my guard.

‘Our friend Rachel is going to a disco organised by her local youth club in Caversham on Friday, we would like to go as well if possible,’ said Julie.

(Caversham is another suburb to Reading, just to the north of the River Thames.)

‘It’ll be for Clare’s parents to decide whether she can go or not, but Julie you’ll have to pack as we leave for the airport early the next morning.’

‘I can do my packing tomorrow. Clare’s parents have given her permission to go, but are unable to give her a lift there so we were hoping that you and Joe might be able to give us a lift instead.’

The plan did have its attractions for me. I would welcome the opportunity to have a long goodbye with Joe on Friday evening.

‘How will you get home afterwards?’ I asked.

‘It’s ok, Rachel’s dad has promised to drive us all home afterwards.’

‘Will there be any boys there?’

‘Well it isn’t being organised by a Nunnery!’ she replied petulantly.

I was about to tell her off for being cheeky, when I remembered several similar conversations I’d had with my Mum a few years ago, and also what I’d thought after my conversation with Dad the previous weekend.’

‘Alright then, but take you mobile phone in case Rachel’s Dad doesn’t turn up and please take care. Remember you’re still only fifteen, and we will be leaving for holiday the following morning.’

I should have liked to add that it would be a disaster for her secret to be discovered at this late stage, but couldn’t do so as she was in company with Clare at the time.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,’ she said, turning to Clare and rolling her eyes significantly before they both disappeared back to her bedroom.

I did my best not to smile at how quickly she’d acquired the mannerisms of a ‘young madam’, as my mother used to describe it. Although she was very much enjoying her life as a teenage girl, I think that deep down Julie was still quite sensible and aware of the potential difficulties of her present situation and just how much she could risk things.

In the event there were no problems with the scheme. Both Julie and I did our packing on Thursday as arranged. Joe and I delivered Julie and Clare to her disco, and her friend’s father took them back to their respective homes at the agreed time. In the meanwhile Joe and I had a very good evening together - but that’s another story.

---

At eight o’clock on Saturday morning Julie and I were on the point of leaving the house with our luggage to walk to the local station. We were both dressed in jeans, t-shirts and trainers, completely devoid of any jewelry or makeup. Julie had also lost her boobs, which were now in her cabin bag awaiting the earliest possible opportunity for her to put them back in place. She had her hair pulled back into a simple pony tail, but she still looked much more like a girl than a boy.

‘I hate having to dress like this,’ she said with some feeling.

‘You wouldn’t want to be wearing tights and high heels after you’d been travelling on a plane for eleven and a half hours.’

‘I suppose not,’ she replied reluctantly, ‘but I still object to having to look like a guy. As soon as I get home I’m going to burn all Julian’s hateful clothes,’ she said.

‘But you’re not wearing any of Julian’s clothes.’

‘No but I still object to having to dress like this.’

‘Believe me Julie, nobody looking at you now would think that of you as anything other than a girl, I just hope that the authorities let you in the country looking as you do.’

‘So do I.’

‘Now have you got your passport, air ticket, money,’ I said echoing my mother as we used to leave for our holiday.’

My sister confirmed that she had each of these items, and I double checked that I did as well, and we set off. We each had one cabin bag, plus one shared suitcase on wheels which we took turns to push. Fortunately there were no neighbours around as we were leaving the house.

Susie and her mother were waiting for our train on the platform at Bracknell. She joined us in our compartment and her mother waved us off. Just over an hour and a half later we were in the Departures Hall of Terminal 3 at Heathrow in possession of our boarding cards. Susie was right, the Thai Airlines check-in clerk was only really concerned that the passports corresponded with the boarding cards, and that we had not exceeded the baggage allowance.

‘Does the young man travelling with you have any check-in luggage?’ she asked.

‘No, he’s sharing a case with me. He’ll only be taking this cabin-bag,’ I said, pointing to one that was well within the specified size.

That was it. She confirmed the boarding details, and we re-joined Julie who had been waiting for us out of sight. We were now free to proceed to Security. Before doing so, we double checked with one another that nobody was carrying anything forbidden or likely to set off a metal detector, and then passed through without a hitch. There was however one unforeseen problem immediately before boarding, when they did a second check of boarding cards and passports. The assistant concerned did a slight double-take when he saw Julie’s passport, but didn’t say anything and we were allowed to proceed without further ado.

I’m still a relative newcomer to air travel and so found the flight to be quite exciting, especially as I had the window seat. Susie and Julie on the other hand were far more seasoned travellers and so professed themselves to be bored and spent their time watching girly films or else reading the in-flight shopping magazine.

It was 6 o’clock in the morning when we landed at the Suvarnabhumi International Airport, about 16 miles from Bangkok, and within half an hour we were queuing at Immigration Control. Once again Susie was right, the Immigration Officer didn’t even look at our faces, merely checked our passports and entered our details on to a database. Soon afterwards we had retrieved our cases and passed through customs.

‘Well that was an anti-climax,’ commented Susie, as we were making our way through the Arrivals Hall to the new Airport Rail Link.

‘Thanks heavens it’s over,’ said Julie. ‘Now if you don’t mind I’d like go to the ladies to put my boobs back in and also do something with my hair.’

‘I think we could probably all do with a ‘freshen up’,’ said Susie.

---

Twenty minutes later Julie had fixed her boobs, changed into a dress which she retrieved from our suitcase, brushed her hair and put on some makeup and earrings and was beginning to look like her normal self. Susie and I drew the line at letting her put on some nail varnish however.

‘At last, I feel like a real person again,’ she announced.

By chance, we’d arrived at Suvarnabhumi Airport one week after the opening of a new rail link to the City Air Terminal in Downtown Bangkok, which was close to both our hotel and the Pratunam Polyclinic”Ž where Julie was due to have her appointment the following day. Thus by 8.00am we’d checked in to our Hotel, but our room would not be available until midday. We therefore deposited our luggage in their store-room and went to do some sightseeing for a few hours.

The one thing I hadn’t fully anticipated was the mid-morning heat - rather like trying to walk around in an oven. So it was not too long before we were sitting in the shade with cool drinks.

‘So what are we going to do tomorrow?’ asked Sue.

‘You two could take a river boat trip or go to the Grand Palace, whilst I go to the clinic, if you like,’ suggested Julie. ‘Then we could meet up as soon as I’m finished.’

‘If it’s all the same to you Sue, I think I should like to accompany my sister to the clinic tomorrow morning, but we’ll have the afternoon and the rest of the week together.’

‘I don’t mind, that is what she came all this way for, after all. I’ll visit the Palace whilst you are both at the clinic, and then we could take the boat trip together afterwards, and you can tell me what happened.’

Julie looked surprised by my suggestion that I should accompany her but did not appear to mind; in fact I suspect she was quite glad to have someone to go with her.

‘Alright and then we can take a bus out to the beach at Pattaya on Tuesday,’ she said.

---

The Polyclinic in Makkasan was a clean modern looking building. The reception room contained about a dozen animated young women who all seemed to be discussing plastic surgery procedures with various receptionists and attendants in white coats. Most of them appeared to be petite and attractive Thai girls, but Julie explained that the majority were in fact katoey who had started their lives as boys, and had been taking hormones and testosterone blockers from a very young age. There were also a couple of western transwomen in the waiting room and it was noticeable that these were somewhat older, taller and retained more masculine physical traits than their Asian sisters.

‘Julie Robertson, I have an appointment with a Doctor Wirun Phuvanatnaranubala,’ said Julie to one of the receptionists, with admirable fluency.

Where on earth do they get these names from? I wondered to myself.

‘Ah yes, Miss Robertson. Before you see the doctor I should just like to take your blood pressure, and also have you brought a sample of your urine?’ said the receptionist.

Julie handed over her sample and allowed her blood pressure to be taken, and we sat down to wait to be called. As we did so various other clients came and went.

‘I’d no idea it would be as busy as this,’ I commented.

‘Gender re-assignment has become a multi-million dollar industry in Thailand, and each year the demand continues to grow.’

‘Wow! I'd no idea. Why is that?’

‘Because it's relatively cheap here whilst the standards of care are at least as good and frequently better than in hospitals overseas. Transgenders are not regarded as freaks or mentally ill here. The medical staff do not put artificial obstacles in the way to force their patients to wait for years for their operations whilst all the time their bodies are changing and making the process more difficult. Also the surgeons tend to be more experienced here. Doctor Phuvanatnaranubala conducts five operations each week, and has specialized in the field of sex reassignment surgery for 25 years,’ she replied.

Five minutes later we were called in to the consulting room, by a middle-aged Doctor who acknowledged us both with the traditional Thai greeting of a slight bow, with the palms pressed together in a prayer-like fashion. He spoke fluent English with an educated accent.

‘Good morning Miss Robertson, I am pleased to see you once again,’ he said to Julie whilst consulting her notes.’ May I enquire who the young lady is with you?’

‘This is my elder sister Jennifer who is responsible for me as both of my parents have passed away since we last met,’ she replied.

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ he replied in a matter of fact manner and then returned to examining her notes. ‘I see that you have been taking the anti-androgens since we last met. They appear to have successfully done their job. Have there been any adverse side effects?’

‘Not really, my penis has shrunk in size, but I do not regard this as an adverse side effect, it just means I can tuck it away more easily,’ replied Julie.

‘So you are still determined to proceed with gender re-assignment.’

‘I would have the operation tomorrow if I could,’ she said blushing slightly.

‘Hang on a minute Julie, don’t get carried away,’ I thought.

Doctor Phuvanatnaranubala also smiled.

‘Unfortunately the regulations in Thailand have changed during the last year and we are no longer able to offer the operation to patients under eighteen. However, if you are sure it is the right course of action for you, and you have the support of your family, there is no reason why you should not start to take oestrogen to help develop more feminine physical characteristics. Your body is ready to undergo puberty and it would be unwise to delay it any further,’ he said.

‘Jenny is my only surviving family and she has been very supportive of my decision to become a woman; that is why she is here today.’

‘When do you recommend that my sister begins to take the hormones?’ I asked.

‘I would say as soon as possible. Today, if you wish; we can supply you with everything you need in the pharmacy downstairs. However, you must understand that because of your age and the suppression of your natural puberty, the changes to your body will probably begin to take effect quite quickly and will be irrevocable.’

Julie looked at me expectantly. Before we’d left I’d made her promise that she would not take any hormones until she was sixteen, but there seemed to be no point in making her wait for one more week.

‘My sister must do whatever she feels is right for her. I will support her decision,’ I replied.

‘Thank you Jen. I realise the implications of what I am proposing to do but am certain that I wish to proceed as soon as I can.’
Doctor Phuvanatnaranubala wrote down something on a form, which he handed to Julie.

‘I will give you an injection straight away which will get the process started. Take this form to the pharmacy, and from tomorrow onwards you should place one of the tablets under your tongue each lunch-time, and spread the gel thinly over one arm each morning and the other one each night. That will provide you with a steady low dosage of the hormone and so should avoid complications. I will prescribe for you sufficient to last you for two years, but you must understand that exceeding the prescribed dose will not speed up the process of feminization and could be dangerous.’

‘I understand,’ said Julie. ‘I have waited this long and will be able to take my time as long as I can see that I am making progress towards my goal.’

‘Good. I hope to see you back in the summer of 2012 to complete the process.’

‘Will she be allowed to take the hormones back to the UK?’ I asked.

‘These are drugs which have been approved for use in the UK, although you would not be able to go out and buy them there without a medical prescription. My understanding of the law is that it will not be illegal for you to import them if they are for your own use, but I am not a lawyer and so you must be responsible. I will provide you with a letter confirming that they have been prescribed to you, but you must decide how you will take them back to the UK.

‘When will I begin to notice any changes as a result of taking the hormones?’ asked Julie.

‘I cannot say with certainty, but I suspect it may be quite soon in your case. Do not become alarmed if you experience sudden mood swings, feelings of tearfulness or depression at first. These are a precursor to the physical changes in your body. Such feelings are not unusual whilst your body adjusts to the new levels of oestrogen in your blood, and should disappear after a week or two. Now are you ready to have your first hormone injection?’

Julie looked a little apprehensive, but on the other hand there was no doubt that she wanted to go ahead.

‘Yes please.’

‘Good luck,’ I said.

‘Thanks, there’ll be no going back now.’

Just over an hour later we came away from the Polyclinic armed with 750 tablets and 25 jars of gel, having spent an arm and a leg. Thereafter she followed the routine of spreading the hormone gel on each arm once a day, and taking a tablet at lunchtime.

---

The rest of the week was a typical holiday for three teenage girls without the impediment of having their parents to hand. We went out to the beach at Pattaya where we ran into a group of lads from Lancashire. A certain amount of flirting went on, but we didn’t let things go too far, for Julie’s sake. She was still a little diffident and shy in dealing with older guys, but was anxious to learn how it’s done, and I’ve no doubt that she’ll soon have them twisted round her little finger.

We also spent a couple of days sightseeing around Bangkok and clubbing in the evenings, and also spent a day sunbathing on the beautiful sandy beach at Cha-Am, which was a lot quieter and a bit more refined than Pattaya. On our last free evening we went to the Calypso Cabaret at the Asia Hotel which was an extravagant Broadway-style lady-boy show.

‘What did you think of them?’ Julie asked me as we were leaving the show.

‘They were certainly beautiful and quite talented, but I wouldn’t want to spend my life performing twice a night in front of lecherous Japanese tourists,’ I replied.

‘Me neither, but at least that way they can live as women. There’s nothing worse than being forced to live as a man when it is against your nature,’ said Julie.

‘Were you really ‘forced’ to live as a man?’ asked Sue.

‘Perhaps not physically so, but it takes a lot of determination to go against everyone’s expectations of you and then find medical and psychological help to live as you feel you should. I really feel that the British doctors let me down at the time when I most needed them — that’s why we came to Thailand.’

‘Well you’ve now got what you came for,’ I added.

‘Yes, and I’m really grateful for the support given me by you and Susie, I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

‘You can save your thanks until after we get you and your pills safely back into the country tomorrow.’

---

The Thai Airways flight flew out of Bangkok at 12.25 and so we had to check out of the hotel by 8.30am the next morning to allow us sufficient time to go through the security procedures. We all dressed fairly androgynously with jeans, crop tops and a minimum of makeup. Sue and I wore sandals but Julie wore her mother’s trainers and a pair of white socks as she did not want to go to the trouble of removing the nail varnish from her toes. Instead of tying her hair back in a ponytail she collected her hair under a baseball cap. Nevertheless she still did not now look remotely like a young man.

There were no problems for ourselves or our luggage at the airport. We were not overweight and no alarms were set off by our check-in luggage or our cabin bags. As soon as we were on the plane and our cabin bags stowed in the lockers Julie took off her cap and throughout the flight the attendants addressed us all as ‘madam’. Once we’d had a meal and watched a film, Susie and I fell asleep. I awoke when they announced that we would shortly be beginning the descent into Heathrow. I noticed that Julie had put on the hormone gel on to her arm and was now just finishing painting her fingernails.

‘Is that wise? Couldn’t it have waited until we were through passport control?’ I asked.

‘I wonder whether we’ve been making too much of the potential difficulty of my travelling as a woman,’ she replied.

‘Well, it is up to you, but remember that you’ve a hefty supply of hormones in our various suitcases which you’d rather not bring to the attention of the authorities.’

‘Don’t worry, I bought some white cotton gloves to wear and I’ll put on my cap to hide my hair as we go through passport control.’

We left the plane without incident and queued together at the Immigration Control. Eventually the three of us were called forward by a woman officer and I handed over our passports. She looked at each one in turn and then addressing Julie said:

‘Please would you remove your cap.’

Without thinking Julie slipped her hand out of one of the cotton gloves, thereby displaying a set of beautifully manicured scarlet finger nails, and took off her cap. Her blonde hair extensions tumbled down each side of her face in a rather appealing girly way. She coloured a little but then shrugged her shoulders as if to say, ‘so what’? The immigration officer rolled her eyes, but then she saw the funny side of the situation and her face brightened into a smile.

‘Thank you very much,’ she said, handing me the three passports.

And that was it, we were through to the hall containing the baggage belts, looking out for our flight to be listed on the display boards.

‘I’m glad that’s over and done with,’ said Sue.

‘I just hope that our baggage gets through customs without a hitch as well,’ I replied.

‘The belt number for our flight hasn’t even been announced yet. Would you two mind if I went to the ladies?’ asked Julie.

‘Alright, we’ll wait for you over by the luggage belt when it is announced,’ I called out as she left us taking her cabin bag with her.

Fifteen minutes later Susie and I had retrieved our luggage but there was still no sign of Julie.

‘I’ll go and have a look for her in the ladies,’ said Sue.

A further five minutes went by before they returned, but this time Julie was dressed in a flouncy pink summer dress, strappy heels, a matching necklace and earrings and with her face made up to perfection. She’d obviously planned the whole thing.

‘I’m sorry to have kept you but I couldn’t bear to spend one more minute dressed in that horrible butch clothing,’ she said defiantly.

Next to Julie, Susie and I must have appeared like a couple of tramps. I was about to tell her off, but she looked so nice that I couldn’t bring myself to do so.

‘We’d better get going, we have to catch a bus and then get a train, and I want to get back to Woodley before midnight,’ I replied coolly.

We walked through the Green Channel of Customs, but nobody took a second look at us and again we were through the swing doors and into the meeting and greeting area of the Arrivals Terminal. We were just moving in the direction of the bus stops when I caught sight of Mum, Dad and Susie’s Mum waiting together. Susie’s mother smiled and waved at us all. Mum took one look at Julie and went white. Dad did the opposite — his cheeks went red and I thought his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.

‘What are you doing here?’ I asked sharply, in the vain hope that attack might be the best form of defence.

‘I met Susie’s mother this morning and she told me how helpful your young cousin was being helping in her salon, but then I told her that you didn’t have a fifteen-year old cousin. So we both decided to come here and find out what was happening,’

‘Susie, I have our car in the Car Park. I think that you and I should leave now as the others will no doubt wish to have a private discussion,’ said her mother.

Susie hesitated for a minute, but then decided that perhaps her mother was right.

‘Bye Jen, bye Julie, and good luck,’ she said and then they left us.

The remaining four of us looked at one another waiting for someone to say something. Eventually my mother broke the silence.

‘Jennifer, I think you should now come back to Bracknell with us. Julian will have to find his own way home,’ she said in her usual disapproving tone of voice.

I was about to tell her to get stuffed, but before I could do so Dad interjected in a voice that would brook no argument.

‘We shall not be leaving anybody, anywhere. We’re all now going to drive back to Woodley where you two can explain exactly what has been going on over the last few weeks.’

That’s the first time I remember him directly contradicting Mum like that.

Nothing further was said as Julie and I followed my parents over to the short-term car park at Heathrow Terminal 3, but at least Dad took charge of our large suitcase which saved us a struggle, especially as it had grown somewhat heavier with the addition of Julie’s two years’ worth of medication. He loaded it into the boot of our car, and we got into the back seats. I turned to Julie and offered a re-assuring smile, and touched her hand but said nothing. Her face looked grey, in spite of the makeup she was wearing. Mum and Dad were equally reticent in the front seats. The car journey back Woodley took about forty minutes, during which time there was an awkward silence within the car. Eventually we pulled up outside Julie’s house and once again Dad took it upon himself to unload our suitcase from the boot. Julie and I led the way into the house with our cabin bags. Mum followed behind with a face like thunder.

I guess it must have been two years or more since I’d last thrown a full-blown ‘hissy-fit’, and I’d forgotten that it could be a useful, first-strike, ‘shock and awe’, tactical device when dealing with unreasonable crusties. But clearly Julie was learning fast. Dad was still struggling to negotiate our suitcase through the front door when Julie went straight on the attack towards Mum.

‘You needn’t think you are going to make me change back to Julian; it is my life and I’ll live it as I want to. I’m almost sixteen now and nobody can force me to be someone I’m not.’

Mum looked surprised by the onslaught and was about to respond, but before she could do so Julie had returned to the fray.

‘You are not going to take away my hormones, they were prescribed for me by my doctor, and if anyone tries to take them from me I’ll call the police,’ she continued, starting to cry.

I doubt if Mum had even realised that she’d been taking female hormones, but certainly she did so now.

‘And you are not to be angry with Jenny. She was the only person to be kind to me when my parents died and you’re lucky to have such a good daughter.’

By now she was in floods of tears as all the pent-up emotion of the last two months suddenly came gushing out.

‘Without Jennie and Susie’s help I might have killed myself, so don’t you dare be angry with her, either of you.’

With that she flung down her handbag, stormed up the stairs to the master bedroom, slammed the door and locked it. We could hear her wailing on the bed.

Both Mum and Dad looked stunned by her reaction.

‘So now you know Julie’s secret, and what I’ve been doing this summer — helping her to come to terms with the death of her parents and her lifelong feeling that she should have been born as a girl,’ I said, to break the silence.

‘How can he possibly know that at his age,’ said Mum, contemptuously.

‘Believe me, Mum, nobody would have put themselves through what Julie has done over the years unless they were absolutely sure. In any event, she’s consulted a psychiatrist and has also begun hormone therapy, so there will be no going back, whatever you or anyone else may think.’

Mum didn’t answer. We could still hear Julie’s sobs emanating from her bedroom.

‘Should you go up to her?’ Dad asked me.

‘No, best leave her be for a little while; let her get it out of her system,’ I replied calmly. ‘She’s been through a lot lately. I’ll go up and see if she’s ok in a few minutes.’

‘I knew we should never have agreed to let Jennifer stay here for the summer, that family are nothing but trouble,’ said Mum to Dad.

‘My task may have been a little more complicated than I first imagined, but I’ve been helping my sister and I don’t see that I’ve done anything wrong.’ I said.

‘Me neither,’ said Dad. ‘It appears that Julie has needed help, and Jen has provided it.’

Mum ignored my comment and angrily went for Dad.

‘Don’t you go defending what she’s done! You don’t understand; you’re not really her father.’

Dad’s cheeks went red. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so angry.

‘I’ve supported the two of you for the last fifteen years and I’ve earned the right to regard Jenny as my daughter, and I will not let you devalue or undermine our relationship. I think that what Jen has been doing is quite admirable, and wish I’d known about it earlier. If I can help the pair of them in the future I intend to do so. As to my not understanding; I understand enough to know that you married me on the re-bound, and that you have never forgiven Julie’s father and mother for what they did to you. But they’re both dead now, so you will just have to get over it and move on, otherwise we are both liable to have a sad and lonely old age.’

Mum didn’t answer, but sat weeping quietly. Dad continued to look very angry and upset. We could also hear Julie sobbing in the background. All in all it was quite a scene of emotional outpouring. I’d been involved in my fair share of family conflicts over the years, but they were normally between Mum and me, with Dad attempting to arbitrate and dry the tears. Now, for the first time, I found that I was the dispassionate adult, trying to calm the situation.

‘No-one could have asked for a better father than you’ve been, and I honestly don’t think that mum could have found a better husband, whether she was ‘on the re-bound,’ or not,’ I said quietly, touching his hand. ‘I may have had another natural father, but you will always be ‘my Dad’.’

Mum now realised that in her anger she’d gone too far.

‘I’m sorry, Jack, you have been a good husband, and I don’t know what Jenny and I would have done without you,’ Mum said quietly, with copious tears continuing to fall.

Dad didn’t reply.

‘I know she really loves you, but just give her a little time to grieve for her former husband,’ I said quietly to him.

He still looked hurt and upset, but his anger had subsided.

‘Alright, we’ll go home to Bracknell now. You’d best go and look after your sister. I’ll come back tomorrow to see how I can help you both,’ Dad said to me.

‘Thanks, I should like that, and I’m sure Julie will be grateful as well,’ I said giving him a kiss.

Mum didn’t argue. She quietly got up and followed him out of the house without saying anything more. Before she did so I gave her a hug and whispered in her ear: ‘Mum, don’t spoil your current and future happiness for the sake of a dream that died fifteen years ago.’

---

I heaved a sigh of relief as their car drove away, and went upstairs to talk to my sister.

‘Julie, they’ve gone now. You don’t have to worry, nobody is going to take anything away from you or force you to do anything you don’t want to. In fact, I think we may even have gained an ally in my father.’

I heard the lock turn, and a very bedraggled looking little girl came to the door with puffy eyes, smeared makeup and untidy hair.

‘I’m sorry Jen; I don’t know what came over me.’

‘I know exactly what came over you,’ I replied smiling. ‘It was the effect of those hormones you’ve been taking. I‘d forgotten what havoc an excess of oestrogen can play with your emotions, especially if your body is not accustomed to it. But don’t worry, in many respects it was exactly what was needed, even if it did precipitate a row between my parents.'

‘I didn’t want to cause them any trouble. I just wanted to be left alone to be Julie.’

‘It wasn’t your fault, there were just some issues between your father and my mother that had been swept under the carpet and never fully resolved. It is just as well that they are now out in the open.’

---

As promised, Dad arrived the following afternoon wanting to know if there was anything he could do to help us. I’d half hoped that he might bring Mum with him, but he didn’t and I decided that is was probably best not to ask. Whatever went on between them after they left last night was their business which they’d have to work out between themselves. Instead, we spent a couple of hours going through all the details of the Probate application and Julie’s plans to buy a flat for us to share in Nottingham.

‘The main problem you have will be to sell this house and any of the furniture that you do not wish to take with you to Nottingham. I’ll probably be able to help you there,’ said Dad. ‘My firm will be able handle the marketing of the property for half our usual commission, as it is ‘for one of the family.’ I’m afraid we’ll have to deal with Jenny, as she will be the administrator of the will and you are under age.’

‘I realise that and trust Jenny with my money,’ replied Julie.

‘I can also probably arrange to sell any remaining furniture and make sure you get a fair price, as I have several contacts in the trade. However, you may wish to keep the house partially furnished until you have a buyer and maybe negotiate with them regarding carpets etc. as everything is in very good condition. I’ll make sure that the house is ok whilst you are away. However, unfortunately you can’t really do anything until Julie’s mother’s probate is granted.’

‘I’ve received a letter giving me an appointment for a Probate Interview on 14th September, assuming all is well the grant should arrive the week before we leave for Nottingham. If we are lucky we will just be able to sort out the main financial details before we leave,’ I said.

‘Good, in that case I’ll arrange for a colleague to come out and get the details of the property so that we can put it on the market as soon as you have the go-ahead from the Probate Office. If you wish I’ll also contact the company you are intending to buy your flat from in Nottingham, to put them in the picture. They’ll have more confidence in you as buyers if they are kept informed exactly what is happening at this end. I just wish that you’d told me all this before, we could have got things moving whilst you were away.’

‘Sorry Dad, I wasn’t sure how much I could tell you about what was really going on, after all it was Julie’s secret rather than mine.’

‘I’m sorry too Mr Anderson,’ said Julie, ‘I suppose I was just being paranoid until after I’d been to Thailand and begun my hormone therapy.’

‘Alright girls, but Julie, you can’t keep calling me Mr Anderson, how about Uncle Jack?’

Julie smiled.

‘Yes, I’d like to have an Uncle Jack. What should I call your wife?’

Dad sighed.

‘I don’t really know. It may take a little time, but I’m sure she’ll come round in the end.’

‘Would it help if I were to invite you both to a dinner party, together with Susie and her mother?’ asked Julie.

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘It’s my sixteenth birthday on Wednesday. Neither Jenny nor I will be working on that day and I’d love to do the cooking for a dinner party,’ she continued.

‘It would be unlikely to turn into a family row if others are present,’ I added. ‘Julie’s a very good cook, but how will you cope with five women and yourself?’

Dad rolled his eyes, but smiled and said he would be happy to come, but wasn’t sure how Mum would react to the suggestion.

‘Why don’t I drive out to Bracknell and have a quick word with Mum, whilst Julie shows you round the house,’ I suggested.

‘Alright, the best of luck.

---

I let myself in to our house with my key. Mum was busy in the kitchen preparing vegetables for their dinner. Although I’d prepared exactly what I was going to say during the drive over, I forgot it all as soon as I arrived. All I could think to do was to give her a hug. For once she didn’t attempt to resist or to use the opportunity to criticise what I was wearing.

‘I shall miss you when you move to Nottingham,’ she said in a matter of fact way.

‘I know, and I’ll miss our family rows,’ I replied laughing. ‘But you have a very good husband who will need to be looked after, and kept up to scratch. In any event, I’ll only be living a few hours away with my sister. I hope you will come and see us.’

‘Yes, your sister,’ Mum said ruefully.

‘Yes Mum, she is my sister and I’m very proud of her. You can’t hold Julie responsible for the actions of her father and mother.’

‘No I suppose not.’

‘I hope you’ll come to accept Julie as a part of the family; after all she’s turning into exactly the sort of girly-girl that you always wanted me to become.’

Mum smiled.

‘‘I’ll do my best. At least she appears to have had more influence on how you look than I ever had.’

I noted that, for the first time, Mum had used the feminine form of the personal pronoun when referring to Julie.

‘She wants to invite you and Dad to a dinner party for her birthday on Wednesday night, but it means that you’ll have to accept her as Julie — there must be no references to her past life.

‘Maybe Wednesday is a little bit soon,’ Mum replied.

‘Please come, Mum. There won’t be many opportunities for us to spend time together before we leave for Nottingham. If you do come, I promise I’ll put on a dress and some makeup.’

Mum sighed.

‘Alright then, I’ll come, if your Dad is agreeable.'

---

I drove back and announced the news to Dad and Julie. They seemed to be getting on very well together in the study, talking about selling the house, so I retired to my bedroom and rang Susie. I spent the next hour filling her in with all the gory details of our homecoming the previous evening. I also relayed the invitation to her and her mother. Susie’s Mum had suspected that there was something a little different about Julie but had taken it all in her stride once she had been told the full story, and was more than happy for Julie to continue helping at the salon.

Dad eventually left us at about five o’clock to drive back for the dinner that Mum had been preparing. I saw him out to his car.

‘She does love you, and she loves me as well; she just has difficulty in showing it sometimes,’ I said.

‘I know,’ he replied. ‘That may have been why her first marriage failed. But at least we’ve the advantage of having brought up a wonderful daughter together, so it will be worth our while to put some extra effort into making our marriage work.’

‘Thank you for accepting Julie as well.’

‘You’re our daughter, and she’s your sister and so we have no choice but to accept her,’ he replied.

‘I’m so glad that Mum found you,’ I said giving him a kiss.

He didn’t reply, but looked quite pleased with what I’d said.

---

Julie had already started making plans for the meal on Wednesday and was making a list of what we would need to buy.

‘Can we go shopping on the way home from work tomorrow evening?’ she asked.

‘I don’t see why not.’

‘It is a pity we can’t invite Joe and his sister as well.’

‘Well if all goes well on Wednesday, we can invite them both round for a farewell dinner when Joe gets back from his holiday.’

‘Yes I would like that, but I think it will be only fair to let Clare into my secret as well.’

‘That’s up to you to decide, Julie. If you wish I’ll ask Joe to break the news Clare. She seems to look up to him and so will probably keep your secret — at least for a while — and by then you’ll have moved to Nottingham.’

‘Yes I’d like her to know the truth, before we leave, and maybe then we can stay in touch via Facebook.’

‘And there will be times in the future when we will visit the Thames Valley as well,’ I said.

‘I don’t have many friends but I’ll miss Clare and Susie when we do leave.'

I decided to change the subject.

‘By the way, how is the medication going?’

‘Alright I think. I’ve been carefully following the instructions, but the only changes that I‘ve noticed so far have been emotional ones.’

I laughed.

‘Just make sure that you don’t have another of those ‘hissy-fits’ when you are preparing for the dinner party, I wouldn’t be able to cope on my own.’

‘I’ll do my best not to,’ she replied smiling.

Susie gave me a call during my lunch break on Monday to discuss a birthday present for Julie.

‘She’s been such a lot of help over the last few weeks that Mum and I feel we ought to buy her something to show our appreciation.’

‘Me too,’ I replied. ‘After all, she’s been paying me to look after her for the last two months but requires very little effort on my part. Also it is her money that will be funding our new flat. I will be paying some rent and contributing to the running costs, but I would have to pay a lot more and be less comfortable if I were living anywhere else.’

‘So what will you be giving her?’

‘There’s a rather nice trouser suit at work which would look good on her. I could get it at a reduced price with my staff discount. How about you?’

‘Mum and I thought we would buy her a nice set of lingerie.’

‘Good idea! Would you like me to buy something suitable for her on your behalf with my staff discount?’

‘Yes please. We don’t really have a lot of time to go out shopping before Wednesday.’

‘Alright, I’ll try and sneak them to you when I collect Julie tonight, and you can settle with me afterwards. One thing though, can I suggest you give them to Julie when she leaves work on Tuesday evening rather than at her birthday meal as I doubt whether my parents will have got her anything.’

‘Alright, and that way she can wear them on her birthday if she chooses.’

That afternoon I made the relevant purchases using my staff card and even selected a yucky girly birthday card ‘To my lovely sister’. Any other time I would have chosen something both rude and jokey, but Julie had been going through a difficult time, and I guess I must be mellowing with age.

I picked Julie up at the usual time, and whilst she was getting her things I managed to pass the bag containing the lingerie set to Susie without my sister noticing.

‘My boobs have been quite tender today and they have also started to itch, it was all I could do to prevent myself from scratching them in public,’ Julie announced in the car as we were driving home. ‘I had to go to the loo once or twice. Do you think they may be beginning to grow?’

‘Your doctor did warn you that would happen. It is something all girls go through, just a little bit later than normal in your case.’

‘How long is it likely to go on for?’

‘It was two, maybe three years in my case. I’m afraid there will be times when they are quite sore but you can put on some lotion to help.’

‘At least it means that I am beginning to acquire a woman’s body and can look forward to the time when I won’t have to bother with all this padding.’

‘It may take a year or more before you can entirely do without it.’ I replied.

‘By the way, Clare called me at work today. She invited me round to her place on Wednesday, but I explained that I would be cooking for the dinner party. She offered to come round and help, if she could get a lift over to Woodley. What do you think?’

‘I don’t mind giving her a lift over and back as well, but you can hardly have her helping with the meal and then not invite her to your birthday dinner.’

‘I suppose not,’ said Julie. ‘In which case, it might be better if she were to learn the truth about me before the others arrive, just in case something should come up in conversation during dinner.’

‘That is up to you to decide, Julie.’

‘Alright, I’ll ring her tonight and say that you will collect her and take her home again after the dinner. I will tell her the truth as soon as she arrives. I just hope she does not freak out.’

‘I don’t think she will, after all her brother didn’t do so.’

---

Tuesday was fairly uneventful; we were both working as usual. Susie and her mother presented Julie with a package and a birthday card as she was leaving work, but told not to open them until the following day. We called in at the supermarket at Woodley on the way home to get in the supplies for the forthcoming dinner party. Since we got back from Thailand, and had faced my parents I was no longer worried that Julie might be recognised by one of her neighbours or former school friends. She did see a couple of people she recognised from the locality but neither of them appeared to take any particular notice of her.

---

We both had a day off on Wednesday and so did not need to get up. I set my alarm for eight though so that I could prepare Julie a nice breakfast. However, I needn’t have bothered as she was awake an hour earlier and by the time I got up she was already downstairs and had opened Susie’s present.

‘Look what Susie and her mother have got for me,’ she said excitedly holding up a dark blue satin camisole.’ I really love wearing nice lingerie.’

‘So I’ve seen over the last two months,’ I replied

I handed over my present and card.

‘Happy birthday Sweet Sixteen,’ I said giving her a kiss and ‘You have made it this far without being carted off to a children’s home, and I don’t see that there is much likelihood of it happening now.’

‘Perhaps not, but I shall be relieved when we leave Woodley and I can start again where nobody knows about my early life,’ she replied.

‘Me too!’

She proceeded to open my present, and then to try it on.

‘Oh, thank you very much Jenny, it’s lovely and I look quite the businesswoman. I think dark red suits me. But you are forever trying to get me into wearing trousers,’ she said in a voice which indicated that she didn’t really mind. .

‘No more than you are forever trying to get me to wear dresses. All I am trying to do is to insert a little more practicality into your wardrobe,’ I replied. You can still wear your girly underwear.’

‘Maybe we each provide a useful counterbalance to one another’s tastes.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Thanks for the present; shall I wear it tonight?’

‘It’s my pleasure,’ I replied, ‘but I think I can allow you to wear a long dress for tonight, since it is your birthday.’

‘Thanks for everything Jen. I don’t know how I would have managed over the last few weeks without you,’ she said giving me a hug and with tears in her eyes.

‘Now don’t start getting emotional, remember you have a dinner party to prepare for.’

All the same I felt a little sad for Julie that she would only have two birthday presents to open. No doubt she had been thinking about her parents on this day, but she did not say anything.

---

The post arrived at 10.00am, just as I was going out to collect Clare. There was just one further card, addressed to Julian, with an Australian postmark.

‘You’ll have to tell your Aunt at some stage,’ I commented handing it over to her.

‘Yes, I suppose so, but not until I’m eighteen and my transition is complete,’ she replied.

---

Clare came armed with a birthday card and a small package for Julie, so my sister would at least have one more present to open. I delivered Clare to Woodley and then made an excuse to go into Reading for a couple of hours. This was partly because I wanted to give Julie the opportunity of telling her new friend in her own way. I’d previously said to her that she could always ring me to come and take Clare home if she became really upset by the news, but I couldn’t really see that happening. Clare was reasonably level headed — in so far as that description could ever be applied to a fifteen-year-old. The only slight worry I had was that she might be so excited by the news that she would want to tell all her friends as well, and post it up on Facebook. That way the news would soon reach the crusties and afterwards, perhaps the authorities. However, we now had less than three weeks remaining before we moved, so it was probably worth the risk.

I also wanted some time on my own to take stock of everything that had happened to me over the last couple of months. The discovery that I had a sister, the decision to share a flat with her in Nottingham, the trip to Thailand had all had quite an impact on me. I had absolutely no regrets about my summer job but I needed to absorb it all. I did not feel as if I was the same person as I was at the beginning of the summer, and undoubtedly things would change even more over the next few weeks.

When I arrived back at Woodley at lunch time I found both girls working together in the kitchen and chatting happily together. I gave Julie a questioning look, just to make sure that she had in fact told her friend.

‘It’s alright Jen; I’ve explained to Clare everything and answered all her questions. She was quite surprised by the news but says she is quite cool about the discovery.’

‘I’m glad you now know Clare, just as Joe does. I hope you and he will keep Julie’s secret for her. That way we can all stay friends and perhaps you and your brother can come and visit us in Nottingham.’

‘I should like that, and I promise not to tell anybody else until Julie gives me her permission to do so,’ said Clare.

We had all agreed to dress up for the evening and I had already conveyed that information to Susie and my mother. Thus we had to find something suitable for Clare to wear from Julie’s mother’s wardrobe, which fortunately proved not to be too much of a problem. As soon as all the preparation for the meal was complete we helped one another to get ready. Julie, who was now the acknowledged expert on the subject, finished off our hair and makeup for us.

‘Wow, you really do know how to use cosmetics, I don’t remember ever looking this good before,’ commented Clare.

‘Thanks, I really want us all to look our best tonight as Susie and her mother are coming, and they are the real experts,’ she replied.

---

Given the unpropitious events of the previous Saturday evening, Julie’s dinner party went remarkably well. Julie is an excellent and imaginative cook and young hostess. She was ably assisted in serving out the dishes and clearing away each course by Clare, so all I had to do was sit back, look pretty and enjoy the conversation. My parents handed over a birthday card to Julie but seemed a little awkward at first. I guess that Dad was a bit overawed as the only man among six women, and that mum was still slightly coming to terms with the fact that the former son of her first husband had suddenly turned into a beautiful young woman. However, they both seemed to be making an effort, and after a glass of wine they had both mellowed somewhat. Susie and her mother, were both great at making conversation with anybody after their experiences working in the salon. Clare and Julie were both enjoying the new experience of being sophisticated adults. But all good things must eventually come to an end and it fell to me to bring the proceedings to a close.

‘Clare I promised your mother to have you home by 11.00pm.’ I said, looking at the dining room clock.

‘Alright Jen, I suppose I’d better get changed.’

‘You can borrow the dress and let me have it back later, if you like,’ said Julie.

‘Yes please, I would love Mum and Dad to see how good I look,’ she replied.

‘I’m afraid that Susie and I will also need to leave as well,’ said her Mother, ‘as we have a full day in the salon tomorrow.’

‘Jack and I can help with the clearing up whilst you take Clare home, Jenny,’ said Mum. ‘We’d like to have a word with the two of you afterwards.’

That sounds a little ominous, but at least she didn’t called me Jennifer,’ I thought as I said goodbye to Susie and her mother, and arranged to ferry Clare home.

---

I returned after half an hour or so to find the table cleared, the crockery and cutlery loaded into the dishwasher and the kitchen tidied. Mum and Dad were chatting to Julie in the lounge. I went in and joined them wondering what might come next.

‘We wanted to thank you both for a lovely meal and an enjoyable evening,’ Dad began.

‘Julie cooked the meal and did most of the work,’ I commented.

‘Yes, we’d guessed that,’ added Mum, smiling.

There was a brief, slightly awkward, silence

‘Irene and I have been talking a lot together over the last few days and we want to apologise to you both if we have not been as understanding as we might have been,’ continued Dad.

Julie looked as if she wasn’t quite sure how to react.

‘And we hope that in future Julie, you will regard yourself as a part of our family and call us Uncle Jack and Aunt Irene,’ he concluded.

I shot a glance across at Mum, to make sure that she was in accord with the statement. There was just the merest hesitation before she nodded in agreement. With that, they got up, walked over and gave Julie a kiss. Tears began to appear in my sister’s eyes.

‘Thank you, Uncle Jack and Aunt Irene, I should like that’ she replied.

After a second or two Mum continued.

‘Julie, I have two nice pieces of jewellery that were given to me by your late father, and I should like you to have one of them. It is a gold locket with his picture inside.’

She handed over a small red jewellery case. Julie looked inside then opened the locket and began to sob.

‘Thank you Aunt Irene,’ it is a lovely birthday present,’ she said between her tears.

I was on the point of going to comfort her, but Mum was there first and put her arm round her and hugged her, something I don’t remember her doing to me for many years. I was standing next to Dad, so I gave his hand a surreptitious squeeze, as something to take my mind off the emotion that I was feeling. He returned the gesture, but didn’t say anything.

After Julie’s tears had subsided Mum came over to me.

‘Jennifer, I also kept the engagement ring given to me by your natural father. However, I have a new husband now and I wear his ring,’ she said glancing at Dad. ‘So I would like you to have it.’

She handed over a small black box containing a beautiful, and quite expensive looking, platinum and diamond ring. I took it out and tried it on.

‘Thanks Mum,’ I said, not knowing what else to say.

‘We would also like you to know how proud we are of you and that you have turned into a lovely young woman. We shall both miss you very much when you leave for Nottingham,’ she continued.

It was now my turn to begin to cry, and to have Mum comfort me.

In no time, all four of us were sobbing and hugging one another.

Mum and Dad proved to be really helpful to both of us over the next three weeks as we prepared for our move to Nottingham. This was just as well as there was a lot to do. Dad arranged for Julie’s house in Woodley to be surveyed and the details prepared ready for it to be put on to the market as soon as we had the go-ahead to do so. Although the property market was still somewhat slow, he was confident that it would sell fairly quickly due to its convenient location, and good internal and external condition. He also negotiated with the vendors of the property in Nottingham on our behalf and arranged a date when we could move in. Nevertheless, Julie insisted that she would undertake the legal conveyancing work for her purchase and sale (although once again I had the responsibility for signing the various transfers on her behalf. Dad was a little anxious about this, but I explained that she was a lot more intelligent than she might seem at first meeting, had already dealt with two applications for probate without any problems, and was interested in the idea of training to be a solicitor at some time once her transition was complete.

Mum also came over to Woodley on several occasions over the next week and helped us to decide what we would need to take with us and what we should get rid of. As a result we made several trips to charity shops in town to dispose of both Julian’s and his father’s clothes. As soon as we had decided what furniture would be taken with us, Dad got a second hand furniture dealer that he knew to come round to inspect the remainder and make her an offer. Clare called round on a couple of days when we were not working part-time, and I was glad to see that her knowledge of Julie’s past did not seem to have had any impact on their friendship or how they dealt with one another.

On 14th September we drove to Oxford for the Probate Interview for Julie’s mother. We took Clare along with us for the ride, to keep Julie company whilst I was in the probate office. Once again there were no real problems. After I’d sworn the oath, I explained that I would be leaving to go to University on the 25th and the Registrar promised to do everything she could to speed things up for us. In fact we received the grant on the 16th, and so had plenty of time to do the various financial transactions and put the house on to the market. Mum and Dad even rented a van to take us, our belongings and furniture to Beeston on the 25th. Joe came over to help load the van on the Friday night, which was good of him as he was due to leave Reading himself the next day.

Julie travelled with Dad in the van, to show him the way, whereas I drove with Mum in the Fiesta. I think this trip gave us both an opportunity to get to know one of the crusties a little better. Somewhat to my surprise, I discovered that Mum would have liked to have gone to University herself, but she got involved with my natural father and then fell pregnant with me, and the rest is history. In some respects I’m now doing all of the things that she would have liked to have done; only life got in the way. I do believe that she is really quite proud of me; it’s a pity she could never bring herself to tell me all this before.

My relations with both my parents have improved no end over the last year, and it is definitely a case of absence making the heart grow fonder. Dad seems to have taken to Julie and bends over backwards to be as helpful as he can, and even Mum sees her as a good influence on me, and as likely to curb some of my excesses. As a result we have been back to Bracknell on several occasions, notably at Christmas, Easter and when Julie eventually sold the house in mid-January. They have been up to visit us on a couple of occasions. However we never stay long as there is not a lot of spare room. I’ve have kept in touch with Joe and went out with him once or twice when I came home at Christmas, but we have both found new partners at college. Julie has also stayed in touch with Clare, and both of us regularly contact Susie via Facebook, but inevitably it becomes more difficult to retain day-to-day friendships when you are living in different towns

---

Soon after we got settled in Beeston Julie began to make enquiries about resuming her education. It didn’t prove to be too difficult to find a local college that would accept her on to an ‘A’ level course, but the academic year had already started by then and so it would be September 2011 before she could begin. In some respects having a one-year gap was no bad thing as it gave her time to establish her new identity as a young woman and begin to assemble the relevant documentation that she would need for her new life. She was eventually able to obtain a national insurance certificate, passport and a provisional driving licence. In each case it was a little more complicated than usual because of her age — the authorities still do not recognize that anyone could be transgendered under the age of eighteen, but in the end they relented. At sixteen she could only have a licence to drive a moped. Fortunately she had no wish to do so, but the licence did provide her with a useful photo id, so that she would be able to open a bank account in her new name. In the meanwhile I’ve been able to undertake any major financial transactions on her behalf in my continuing role of the executor of her parents’ estate. As soon as she had her national insurance card, Julie found herself a part-time job in a local beauty salon, on the basis of her previous experience. It did not pay very well, but she wasn't doing it for the money; she wanted to keep her hand in and enjoyed the work.

Julie has continued to take the hormones each day since we returned from Thailand and her boobs seem to have been growing at a rate of knots. It was as if her body was just waiting for the chemical signal to begin to develop and was now seeking to make up for lost time. She has certainly experienced some physical discomfort and some emotional turmoil in the process, but understands what is going on and accepts it as one of the consequences of being able to achieve her life’s ambition. She has also found herself a private doctor to help oversee her transition. Somewhat to my surprise, she chose a male doctor as I thought a female one might have been more sympathetic to her condition. Apparently the guy started off by telling her to stop taking the hormones until she was eighteen, but she smiled sweetly made it clear that she knew exactly what she was doing, had the support of a psychiatrist, and had no intention of changing her mind. I suspect she may also have fluttered her eyelashes and simpered a little, so that by the end of the interview she had him eating out of her hand.

In fact Julie has become quite a little flirt recently, and I have to be careful about who I invite round to the flat. The few arguments that we have had over the last year derive from my telling her to watch her step and not give guys the wrong idea, after all she is only just over the age of consent, and most of the guys who come sniffing round have no idea of her situation. Julie responds by saying that she knows what she is doing and won’t let things go too far. It’s difficult to stay angry with her as she can put on such a look of wide-eyed innocence when she wants to that disarms any level of annoyance. I suspect she’s just experimenting with her newly-discovered proficiencies as a young woman. She seems to know how to handle guys almost by instinct, and can’t go fifty yards carrying anything heavy without several of them crawling out of the woodwork and fighting off one another to offer her help. I’ve been out with a couple of guys over the last year, but nothing serious, but I have also made lots of friends and take part in University activities.

Broadly speaking Julie and I live in a symbiotic relationship (I got that phrase from one of my University courses — it means ‘mutually beneficial’). We help one another in lots of different ways, but also know when to give the other their privacy. Inevitably there are times when Julie becomes very sad over the loss of her parents, but these never last for long. I know she would love to have had them witness her blossoming into an attractive young woman. At the same time she knows that she cannot get away with playing ‘the little princess’ with me and always pulls her weight with the housework. I sometimes try to keep her ‘girlyness’ in check and inject a little rationality in her behaviour, whilst she sometimes encourages me to experiment more with mine.

---

So, given all of the above, you may be wondering why I chose the title for my story. It derives from events that took place at the end of August of this year when I asked my sister what she would like to do to celebrate her seventeenth birthday.

‘There’s an ‘End of Summer’ charity ball in town on 3rd September, the theme is ‘twins’, I would love to go, if you will come with me,’ she replied.

‘You want us to go dressed as twins?’

‘Yes, it could be fun! We could both hire the same style of evening dress, I could colour your hair and give you some hair extensions to make it look just like mine, and do our makeup. We would end up looking like one another’

‘Why can’t your hair be made to look like mine?’ I asked suspiciously.

‘I know how to cut and colour hair properly, whereas I wouldn’t trust you anywhere near mine.’

I stuck my tongue out at her but had to agree. I wouldn’t let someone like me anywhere near my hair.

‘Alright, I’ll treat you to your ball tickets as a birthday present but don’t expect me to go over the top with the ‘girlyness’.’

‘That’s exactly what I expect us to do. If you can’t dress up and make yourself look nice for a summer ball, when can you do so?’ she replied.

I put up some token resistance, but the following afternoon we made our way to a dress hire shop at Radcliffe-on-Trent where we both tried on about a dozen different outfits.

‘Do you think my boobs are big enough for me to wear a strapless dress?’ she asked, taking off her bra in the changing room.

I examined her for the first time in several weeks and realized just how much they’d grown recently.

‘You may still need a little discreet padding, but I guess they should be ok.’

‘Great, in that case let’s go for it.

We tried on an identical pair of scarlet evening dresses which seemed to look equally good on both of us.

‘What do you think?’ she asked.

I sighed.

‘Alright, go on then, I suppose, as it is your birthday.’

‘Thanks.’

‘It won’t be too long before you can throw away your falsies altogether,’ I suggested.

‘I am really looking forward to that day, and also this time next year when I shall be en-route to Thailand for my operation.’

‘You certainly know what you want in life.’

‘Will you come with me when I go for my operation?’ she asked.

‘We’ll have to see,’ I replied.

We arranged to collect the dresses the following Friday night, which was the day before the ball. That night I succumbed to my sister’s entreaties and allowed myself to become a blonde with long hair for the first time in my life. Julie firstly coloured my existing hair then sewed in the extensions just as Susie had done for her the previous year. I found these to be a little uncomfortable to begin with but I gradually got used to having them, and when I saw how they looked was pleased to have done so. After that I gave up all opposition to Julie’s plans and the following day we both became true ‘girly girls’, helping each other with a facial, manicure and makeover. Somewhat to my surprise it was quite good fun and was probably worth the time and effort. By the time Julie had finished, I believe we both looked quite special. I didn’t argue when Julie decided to take some photographs of us using the timer on her father’s digital camera. (You can judge for yourself: I am the taller girl on the left of the photo.)

---

The ‘End of Summer’ ball proved to be really great fun for both of us. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so confident in how I looked before, and it is surprising what a difference that makes to how you behave. Guys do treat blondes differently from other girls, beginning with the taxi driver, who helped us both out of the car and told us how nice we looked. (We’d taken a taxi in so that I didn’t have to worry about spoiling my outfit by driving, and could also have a drink during the evening.) Then there was the guy in the street that stopped what he was doing to hold open the door for both of us. Once inside, both Julie and I had guys swarming round us like flies for the whole evening, laughing at our jokes, asking us to dance or offering to get us drinks. Eventually we selected two of the best looking ones and let them give us lifts home in return for a cup of coffee and a little bit of snogging. I quite liked my escort so I gave him my mobile number, and he has promised to ring. I left it to Julie to handle her own guy, after all she is a big girl now and I won’t always be able to look out for her.

Eventually, after her guy had left, Julie knocked on my bedroom door. I was sitting at my dressing table, thinking about the evening and reluctant to get changed.

‘So how does it feel to be a girly girl?’ Julie asked me as she entered the room.

‘In spite of all the time and trouble involved, I can see there are certain advantages,’ I replied. ‘In fact, I may stick with the blonde hair and the extensions for a few weeks, just to see how I get on with them.’