I shook my head. Whatever I said, I would be in trouble. This best thing to do was to keep quiet. My mouth had a habit of running away with itself. When I lived with my mum and dad in India, I was happy and chatty and didn’t really have a care in the world, but now everything had gone bad for me.

I had been sitting in the corner of the changing room, having thought myself very clever for hanging back and letting the other boys shower and change first. I didn’t want anyone to see how much I hurt. PE had been hell for me. My chest hurt and my legs hurt as did almost every other part of my body. My Aunt had laid into me early that morning when she caught me in bed wearing one of her slips. I had managed to hide the fact that although I was physical a boy, I was really a girl and had been, in my head anyway, for as long as I had known the difference.

I had come to live with my aunt three months before and I hated every minute of it. After finding the slip amongst some things that she had put out as rubbish, I had retrieved it and wore it whenever I could at night; it was much like a nightdress and it was nice to wear, although it was big for me. I always had to get myself up early in the morning, normally before my aunt, to do my chores, so I thought that I was safe; but I suppose that I took one too many chances and the fact that I had not set my alarm the previous night was enough to seal my fate.

My aunt was a powerful woman, not like my other aunt in Wales who got sick and wasn’t able to look after me anymore. Auntie Doris was good at hitting me and she seemed to relish the task. I screamed my head off, but there wasn’t anyone able to come to my rescue and I just had to take my beating. We lived on a farm, miles from anywhere and it was just Auntie Doris and me in the big farmhouse so she was able to do what she liked without fear of being disturbed. In the end I just went into a ball as she kept on hitting me with her fists and then a heavy leather belt with a brass buckle that used to be Uncles before he died of a heart attack.

Eventually she finished with me, called me an abomination, told me to stop sniveling and never, ever wear her clothes again, as she wouldn’t be answerable if I did.

~ §~

Crying, I somehow managed to get dressed, feed the animals and get on my bike for the ride to the bus stop at the end of the lane. The bike ride was no fun, as the track was rutted and my darling auntie had managed to hit me several times on my bottom.

Anyway, I got to the bus stop in time just after I had chained up my bike; the bus came over the hill and stopped by me.

No one spoke to me on the bus; no one ever spoke to me if they could help it. I was an oddity and other kids seemed to steer clear of me. I was pleased about that as I was aching everywhere and I felt sick. As the bus weaved its way through the countryside on that grey drizzly day, I looked out of the window and wondered if I would ever be happy again.

~ §~

I was born in India. My mum and dad moved there shortly before I was born. Dad was a computer expert and mum a nurse. After I was born in Calcutta, we moved about quite a bit because Dad was a consultant and that meant that he was in demand all over the country; we never stayed in the same place more than six months. Once I was old enough to go to school, mum was able to get work at the local hospital at wherever we happened to be. Not settling very long in one place meant that I had no roots and I rarely had the opportunity to make friends. What friends I did make were normally girls. I never liked playing with boys and I hated rumble tumble. Girls were gentler and in India, most girls just wanted to learn to be good wives and mothers. Not very PC but that was the way it was. Oh, I did occasionally come across girls who were more tomboyish, but that was a rarity.

Because Mum and Dad worked a lot, I was often left with nannies and I suppose I wasn’t as close to my parents as other kids are, but I knew that they loved me and the times we spent together were special.

Mum and Dad knew that I always considered myself as a girl and occasionally ‘played’ dress-up using my mum’s wardrobe and the washing basket. I had been caught on a couple of occasions and told off, not nastily, but I was told the error of my ways and that I was a boy and not a girl and I should therefore only wear boys things and get out of my head, the silly notion that I was a girl.

This left me frustrated but I had no choice, I would have to do what I was told and not wear Mum’s things. This didn’t change the way I thought though and I always knew that I was a girl, no matter what my parents told me.

I don’t want to give the impression that I was very unhappy. In truth I was quite happy with my lot and at that time I was a bit of an optimist as I knew that I would persuade my mum and dad eventually that I was a girl – it was just a matter of time. I was chatty, rather bubbly kid who liked to play jokes and have a nice time.

My family almost had a nomadic life up until I was twelve, then my life changed completely when my parents died in a stupid car accident while I was at school.

Everything went downhill after that and my life turned into a nightmare.

After the funeral which was awful, I was sent to live with an aunt in wet Wales. But I didn’t stay there long as she wasn’t very well. Whilst I was with her, I didn’t try to dress or act as a girl. I believed that God was punishing me for wanting to be a girl and that was why my parents died. I felt so very guilty and it took a long time to get over that.

When it became obvious that my aunt could not look after me, I was sent to my other aunt who lived ten miles from Exeter, on a farm. I could tell right from the start that she didn’t really want me, but she was just doing it out of charity. Her husband, my uncle, had died the year before and she was left looking after the farm herself. She did have a few workers who she paid just a minimum wage, but she decided that I could be an unpaid labourer for the times when I wasn’t at school.

I had to get up before dawn and work until late when I got back from school; all sorts of heavy nasty work not suited to someone as small and lacking in muscles as I was.

After a bit, the urge to look and feel like a girl got the better of me and I occasionally sneaked into her bedroom and tried on some of her things. They were miles to big for me, but they were better than nothing. Then as I mentioned before, I managed to retrieve a full length slip from the rubbish. It looked old and obviously hadn’t been worn for years, so I took a chance and washed and dried it when my auntie wasn’t around and then hid it in my bedroom.

That night I wore the slip to bed and I did the same for several weeks. I was always expected to get myself up in the morning so there was little danger of getting caught. As one of my many jobs was to do the washing, I managed to wash ‘my’ slip regularly without Auntie seeing it

After a particularly hard day, I was very tired when I went to bed. Without thinking, I changed into the slip and slid into bed. The rest, as they say was history; when my alarm didn’t go off early the next morning, my aunt caught me wearing her slip.

~ §~

So there I was in the school infirmary waiting for things to happen. I refused to tell anyone what had happened to me. I should have told them that my aunt had caused all this but she was the only relation I had left that I could call family. I was being talked to as if all this was my fault. Maybe it was.

I began to blame myself for being hit, just like I did when my mum and dad died.

I was wrong to steal my aunt’s slip and I shouldn't have worn it and make her angry. I was starting to get upset and just couldn't stop myself from crying. But crying was alright. Girls were allowed to cry.

But I wasn't a girl. Everyone said that I was a boy, even my parents and they died. I was a bad person…

‘Mark, you must tell me what happened.’

I looked up and there was a woman sitting next to me. I hadn't even realised that she had come into the room.

‘It was my fault,’ I said through my tears.

‘You aren’t a bad boy Mark this isn't your fault. You must tell me what happened and then I can help you.’

She looked so kind and everything had been bottling up inside of me. This was the first time anyone had been nice to me in a long while.

I told her what happened.

~ §~

Things moved fast. I wasn’t allowed to go back to my aunt’s farm and she was prosecuted for her cruelty to me. She said in court that she didn’t want me back even if she was asked to take me. She said in open court that I was ungodly for wanting to look like a girl and boys should be boys and not sinfully wear clothes of the opposite sex. Not that the authorities would ever let me go back to her. They had other plans for me and I found myself in a children’s home in Exeter.

It was almost like out of the frying pan into the fire. Nothing was said about my being a girl inside, I tell a lie, I did see a doctor prior to being placed at the home, a medical one. He was there to assess me and see that I didn’t have lice or fleas or any other nasty that could infect or infest the other children at the home. I mentioned my gender problems but he didn’t seem very interested and just made note on his file and mumbled something about it not being his province.

The home wasn’t very well run and I never really fitted in. I was bullied by some of the older kids as I looked too girlie for a boy. The house parents weren’t very good at keeping order and there were continual problems with discipline. Some of the kids even stole from shops, drank, smoked and a few even did drugs.

I tried to stay away from that sort of thing, but it was difficult. I became depressed about the possibility of my body changing soon. We had access to computers in the home, and I often stayed up late and surfed the internet.

I read up all things about the transgendered and it was obvious that I wasn’t unique. It was a revelation to me as I had no idea that other people suffered as well. I steered clear of the porn sites and ones that looked unsafe, but I was, after a little investigation, able to learn a lot about my situation. One thing that I did pick up on was that it was harder to physically change into a girl once puberty started. Although I was a girl inside my head, I was a boy physically and all the prayers and dreams that I would miraculously change into a girl overnight were just pipe dreams. Any changes made to my body would have to be done by me, as divine intervention wasn’t happening; despite my constant prayers to a God that I wasn’t too sure existed.

My fear was that all too soon I would start sprouting muscles, have a hairy body and face and that my voice would inevitably break. I wasn’t going to let that happen and thought of all the things that I could do to my body to stop those disgusting things happening, up to and including self mutilation (although realistically, I was too squeamish to think too seriously about that). Then I read about birth control pills and the fact that these and anti-androgens would stop any possibility of male puberty.

There were places on the internet where you could get the pills that I wanted. It was risky, but I was desperate. As the authorities didn’t seem interested in my problems, I decided that I would have to sort them out for myself.

I had a small amount of savings and I just about used them up getting the pills that I wanted sent to at a post office box, as there was no way that I was going to have them delivered to the home!

It was with a sense of relief that I was, at last, able to start taking pills that would hopefully stop male puberty in its tracks. I had made sure that the pills I ordered were the ones recommended, if that was the word, by other girls on the forums as being strong enough for my needs. I know now that it wasn’t a very good idea to take pills ordered over the internet and without the supervision of a doctor, but I was desperate and I didn’t think about the possible consequences.

Somehow, I got friendly with one or two of what you might consider to be troublemakers at the home. Money had soon run out and I needed to get some more to pay for the pills, which were not that cheap. I was desperate and not in my right mind. The pills affected me strongly and my mood swings were extreme. One minute I was up in the air and the next, down in the dumps.

Then I found some money left on top of one of the boys’ locker and I took it. I also stole clothes from some of the girls, just under things like panties and tights, but I was desperate to wear girls clothes as it helped calm me down and be less stressed. It was only a short step more to start going with a couple of the boys when they went shop lifting. The first few times were hard but I soon got into it in a big way and the items I stole were passed to a fence and the money I got for these items helped pay for the drugs and also, regrettably, cider.

The drink was an emotional crutch that helped me to get through the days without thinking too much. I hated what I was doing, but it was as if I was on a train that was going faster and faster and I couldn’t get off. The house parents and social service people didn’t seem to care about any of us. I felt that we had been written off and no one was there to help or listen to us.

Surprisingly quickly I started to see changes in my body; my shape, especially around my hips and bum, in particular became more feminine. Then my nipples became sore and itchy and I could feel tender lumps forming below. I was satisfied that the risks that I had to take to get money to pay for the pills were worth the effort.

After a few months, the inevitable happened.

I was sitting on a bench in the park, looking at the ducks on the pond but not really taking anything in; my mind was numb. I had a can of cider in my hand and I had drunk most of it. I didn’t realise it, but the drugs that I was taking reacted very badly with alcohol.

‘What are you doing?’

I looked up and there was a policeman standing there. He was weaving about a bit, or it might have been me doing the weaving...

‘What?’

‘I said what are you doing here?’

‘Sitting watching the birdies.’ I giggled.

Then some bile rose in my throat and I was promptly sick all over his nice shiny shoes.

‘Shit!’

Things got a bit hazy then and the next thing I knew was that I was sitting in the back of a police car. I seemed to fall asleep and when I woke up we were at the station. The police sergeant asked me a few things like name, address, age and stuff like that. I think that they were confused when I told them that I was a girl and my name was Sarah, yet I had a school bus pass that had written on it my name as Mark Davidson.

It was glossed over as drunken rambling and I was put in an interview room and left with a cup of tea and a biscuit. I wasn’t alone though, as a policewoman was sat in a corner looking at me disapprovingly but saying nothing. I ignored her.

After a bit, a plain clothed policeman came in, nodded to the policewoman and sat down opposite me, putting a carrier bag on the table.

‘Well Mark, feeling any better.’

I nodded, although I had a thumping headache, I wasn’t going to show any weakness. By now, my drunkenness had worn off a bit and I was more aware if where I was and just how much trouble I was in. I recognised the carrier bag, it was mine and in it were the results of my latest crime spree, a few small electrical items including a mobile phone that I just happened to find poking out of someone’s pocket...

There followed a long painful interview where I told him all about my stealing. I was done with lying, it was no good, I had been caught. Being fourteen, I didn’t think that I would be sent to a prison, probably just youth offenders institution. I was expecting the worst. Just then my house parent turned up...Roger, the Drip.

‘Mark, what the hell have you been doing?’

I shrugged, not answering because it was obvious that he knew already.

There followed another twenty minutes of going over and over just what I had been doing. It got tiring and I just wanted to go to sleep, but that wasn’t happening any time soon as, surprisingly, instead of locking me up and throwing away the key, I was cautioned at length, told what a naughty boy I had been and then let go. Evidently, it was my first offence and as long as I was a good ‘boy’ I would not be prosecuted but if I did commit another crime, this one would be taken into account and be used against me.

Roger the Drip didn’t say anything to me on the way back to the home. He seemed to have a few things on his mind.

When we got back he just said that he would speak to me later about what I did and that I should stay out of trouble.

‘I have enough problems at the moment without you making them worse.’

I shrugged, we all had problems.

You may have gathered by now that I had built an impenetrable shell around my emotions and feelings. I was turning into a not very nice person. I had no friends and was still bullied for being small, effeminate and young looking for my age.

I wasn’t in a very nice place.

I went up to my room and stayed in there until the following morning. I didn’t want to eat anything, so I avoided seeing any of the other kids or house parents. I just wanted to be alone.

Being a weekend, there was no school, for which I was thankful as no one liked me there and I wasn’t what you would call a star pupil. I did just enough there to stay under the radar of the authorities. The other kids were different. I felt like I was some sort of social leper as once again my size, feminine look and attitude marked me out as being different from the others. I just tried keep my head down and not attract attention.

Anyway, it was Sunday. I was reading in my room, but not really taking any of the words in. I wondered where I would now get the money to pay for my pills. I had enough for about a month but that was it. Latterly, I had gone up to London to get my pills as they were cheaper there and I had lost the use of the PO Box that I was using. I found the contact online; it was some sort of dodgy pharmacy that didn’t ask any questions as to why a fourteen year old boy wanted birth control pills.

There was a lot of noise, banging and shouting outside, but I ignored it. This wasn’t a nunnery with a vow of silence, this was hell on earth and after a while you sort of zone the noise out.

There was a knock on my door.

‘Go away.’

There was another knock.

Sighing, I stood up. I had taken to jamming a chair up against the door to stop anyone coming in when I didn’t want them to; like when I’m wearing the few girlie things that I had or the one pink cotton nightie that I invariably wore to bed when I could. There were some undesirable residents in the home and wasn’t just talking about me and the last thing I wanted was to be disturbed.

Sighing, I opened the door and there was this imposing looking woman standing there in a fur coat and weird hat with feathers in it. She had a clipboard in her hand.

I groaned, another do-gooder, I thought.

She looked at me with a piercing gaze. Funny, she was old but she had lovely clear blue eyes that seemed to look into my very soul.

‘Yes?’

‘Mark?’

I nodded; I wasn’t about to tell her that I was in fact Sarah, in disguise.

‘My name is Lady Fairbairn, can I come in?’

To Be Continued...

Please leave comments and kudo thingies...thanks! ~Sue

Changes~Sarah's Story~Chapter 2

Author:

Susan Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Fiction

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Universes & Series:

Penmarris 'Changes' Universe by Susan Brown

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Changes~Sarah's Story

A Penmarris Story
Chapter 2

Previously…

There was a knock on my door.

‘Go away.’

There was another knock.

Sighing, I opened the door and there was this imposing looking woman standing there in a fur coat and weird hat with feathers in it. She had a clipboard in her hand.

I groaned, another do-gooder, I thought.

She looked at me with a piercing gaze. Funny, she was old but she had lovely clear blue eyes that seemed to look into my very soul.

‘Yes?’

‘Mark?’

I nodded; I wasn’t about to tell her that I was in fact Sarah, in disguise.

‘My name is Lady Fairbairn, can I come in?’

And now the story continues…

I let her pass and she came into my room. I sat on the bed and she looked around, frowned and then asked if she could sit.

This was strange, as most people just did what they liked and didn’t ask my permission for anything. Mind you it sounded more like an order than a request.

I nodded and she put her humongous handbag on the floor and gracefully sat down.

She looked at her clipboard, frowned and then looked up at me.

‘Well um, Mark, it looks like you’ve been in a bit of trouble?’

‘Yes,’

‘Why is that?’

I just shrugged.

‘Not happy here?’

I shook my head.

‘You been in trouble with the police but been let orf with a caution, correct?’

‘Been drinkin’ ?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why have yer been stealin’ and drinkin’ Mark?’

She said all this with a softness that belied her rather stern appearance. She really seemed to care or was that just wishful thinking on my part?

My damned hormones started playing up as I felt a tear go down my cheek. I was so tired of everything. Here was someone who actually seemed to care and although she had only spoken to me for a few moments; maybe she was one of the good ones; even though she scared the effluent out of me.

I looked at her, could I trust her; should I trust her? What the hell – I took a deep breath and told her – everything.

‘I...I’m not really Mark, I’m S...Sarah.’

I glanced up at her, looking for the horror, scorn and rejection that I had experienced ever since my parents had died. There wasn’t anything like that, just compassion and perhaps a slight puzzled frown on her forehead.

‘Sarah... why are you Sarah, rather than Mark?’

Because she hadn’t laughed at me and seemed to genuinely care, I took a deep breath and told her my story about living in India with my parents, how I always thought that I was a girl; how my mum and dad had died and all the terrible things that happened to me since.

I told her about how I was worried about my body changing and my need to obtain pills that would stop me turning into a man and then the stealing to pay for the drugs, the depression and then the drinking to forget the pain and suffering I was going through.

By this time I was sobbing and found it difficult to speak. Somehow during my confession, for that was what it was, she had taken hold of my hand. Now she sat on the bed next to me and was holding me. It was nice, comforting and reassuring.

At last I finished and she just held me until I had calmed down.

‘Did you not tell the social services the yer consider yerself a girl?’ she asked as she offered me a delicate lace handkerchief, that I just instinctively knew hadn’t been bought at a pound shop.

‘I told the doctor just before I came here.’

‘And what did he or she say?’

‘It was a he. H...he said that it wasn’t his department, but he made note on his report. He didn’t seem that interested.’

‘Damn’ idiot; hang on a mo.’

She stood up suddenly, ,making the bed bounce up and down a bit and went over to the door, opened it and shouted, ‘Blenkinsop!’

I jumped at the noise.

‘You can probably hear her in the next county,’ I thought.

She then looked back at me and smiled, ‘I’ll be back in a tic.’

She shut the door behind her as she waited in the corridor.

I heard the sound of running feet and then Roger the Drip’s voice through the thin door.

‘Yes Lady Fairbairn?’ he asked in a sort of Uriah Heep sort of voice. I could imagine him wringing his hands...

‘Did yer know about Mark actually bein’ Sarah?’

‘What, I mean pardon Ma’am?’

‘Are ye deaf man? Sarah – I’ll call her that, as that is who she considers she is- told the authorities about her worries an’ concerns about her gender before she even came here. I repeat; did yer know about Sarah’s problems?’

‘No...I mean yes, but...’

‘Yes or no you blithering idiot?’

‘Yes, but we thought that it was just a passing phase and...’

‘Passing bloody phase, you cretin! Don’t yer know that it is rarely a passing phase and some kids actually commit suicide because no one listens?’

He mumbled something.

‘I don’t want damned excuses. Wait here.’

By this time, I was crying again. All my fears had been confirmed; the authorities knew about me and they had no intention of doing anything about it.

The door opened suddenly, making me jump slightly. My nerves were in tatters by now.

She came in, shut the door behind her, smiled and sat on the bed next to me again. I found myself being hugged and I wondered in passing about this Jekyll and Hyde character...

‘Alright Sarah, do you want to stay here or do you want to go somewhere where you are safe and where your problems will be sorted out?’ she asked softly.

I pulled away slightly and I looked at her face. I could see that she had damp eyes. I couldn’t believe that this tough old bird was capable of crying. Maybe she wasn’t as tough as I thought.

I had nothing to lose.

‘I...I...I want to go.’

‘All right Stay here for a few minutes, Sarah. I promise that I will be back. I need to speak to some people and knock a few heads together.’

With that, she kissed me on the forehead (which was totally unexpected, but rather nice), smiled and then went outside, closing the door gently behind her.

‘Roger,’ she bellowed, ‘come with me.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

I stared at the closed door, smiling slightly.

She had called me Sarah and knew that I was a girl. I just hoped that she would help me and that I could finally be the girl I dreamed of.

~ §~

I lacked any faith or self assurance and after only five minutes, I started to have doubts. I began to wonder if I should have told her my innermost secrets. Had I made a terrible mistake?

She had been gone for about twenty minutes and I had convinced myself that she was not coming back and all my hopes, raised for a short time, would come to nothing.
Staring at the door, I willed for the knock which meant that she would be back. I could still hear a lot of noise outside, but I was too wrapped up in myself to take much notice. That dump was never quiet at the best of times.

I started suddenly at the knock on the door; I got up and opened it. Standing there was Roger the Drip and behind him, the lady.

Roger came in without asking, closely followed by the lady. He looked as white as a sheet and I wondered if he was feeling the pressure; I know I was.

‘Mark, is it true that you want to leave us?’ asked Roger.

I nodded, not saying anything.

‘Haven’t you been treated well here?’

‘I want to go,’ I replied not wanting to say anything about my time at the home. It wouldn’t have helped.

Roger looked at the lady, shrugged and then turned back to me and said, ‘well, good luck and I hope that things go well with you.’

He turned and with a nod to the lady, left the room, closing the door after him.

Like before, I sat on the bed and the lady sat next to me and took hold of my hand.

‘Well Sarah, it’s like this, I don’t think that I mentioned it, but I am a patron of this place and a few others besides. I have had reports that things were not going very well here and I decided to do a spot inspection. I brought along a number of people, professionals, social workers and such like to see what, if any of the reports that I have been receivin’ are true. I will not go into any great detail about my findings, but I can say that I am very unhappy about the way this place is being run and the affects that it has had on the children here. Heads will roll.’

I almost felt pity for what was going to happen to those people...almost.

‘You,’ she continued, ‘in particular, appear to have been ignored when you needed help and have been allowed to slip through the safety net that was in place specifically to prevent problems happenin’. You have asked to leave and leave you shall. You are under my protection now and you will not be hurt again and I will do everythin’ in my power to make things right for you. Do you believe me?’

I nodded,

She smiled.

‘Good, I wouldn’t blame yer if yer didn’t. Right, I want you to pack your things and be ready ter go in ten minutes; can you do that for me?’

I nodded.

‘Good girl; get crackin’ then and I’ll see yer shortly. When you are packed just wait here and I’ll come for yer.’

In a dream, I packed my few possessions, including my few, but all important girlie things, and to be honest I was ready in five minutes. Shortly after, she was back, bringing a man who looked a bit like a chauffeur, complete with a grey uniform and peaked cap. He looked at me, smiled, winked and then picked up my case when asked to do so by the lady.

‘Come along then,’ she said, ‘do you want to say goodbye to anyone?’

I shook my head. I had made no friends there.

The corridors were empty and I wondered where everyone was. In a dream I followed the man and lady out and then I stopped at the entrance. There was a Rolls Royce standing there.

‘Come along Sarah,’ said the lady, ‘don’t dawdle.’

The rear door of the car was open and she got in and then motioned for me to get in beside her. The chauffeur put my bags into the boot and then closed the boot and then the rear door. After that, he got into the driver’s seat stated the car and we almost silent drove off.

I didn’t look back.

A glass window slid up between the front and back of the car.

‘Now Sarah, I need to tell yer what is goin’ to happen now. I am takin’ you ter a private clinic and a sympathetic doctor is goin’ ter give you the once over. You’ve been takin’ tablets that yer shouldn’t have and you need to be checked out and we need ter make sure that you are all right.’

I nodded as I kind of expected this. I just hoped and prayed that I would be allowed to carry on with my tablets, as I couldn’t live if I started to develop as a male.

‘After that, if all’s well, you can come and stay with me for a while. I have the permission of the authorities, my name carries a bit of weight and I know a few people. Does that suit you?’

I nodded. I was doing a lot of nodding lately!

After about twenty minutes, we drove through some gates and stopped in front of some double doors. The chauffeur leapt out and opened the door for the lady and I followed behind.

Holding my hand, the lady went up the steps and into the building. It looked like a hotel reception inside with marble everywhere except on the floor which was covered in an expensive looking deep pile carpet.

‘Sit there Sarah,’ said the lady, pointing at a leather sofa.

I did as I was told while the lady went over to the receptionist and had a few words. The receptionist seemed to almost jump to attention when the lady spoke to her. I think that she had that effect on most people. The lady then came over to me and sat down beside me.

‘The doctor won’t be long, she’s seeing another patient and your room is bein’ prepared.

‘Will I be staying here?’

‘I hope not, but you might be here a few hours for tests an yer might as well be comfortable while you’re here.’

Not long after that a nurse came out of a side room and asked us to follow her.

We were shown into a bedroom that looked like one from a posh hotel. Carpets everywhere tasteful wallpaper, paintings on the walls, discrete lighting...you get the picture.

‘Right Sarah, I would like you to undress and put on the gown.’

She pointed to the white garment on the bed.

‘I’ll be back shortly to take some bloods and then the doctor will see you.’

‘Get yourself out of those togs young Sarah I’ll be back in a minute.’

She smiled reassuringly and then left me to it. I think that she just wanted to give me some privacy.

I slowly undressed, folded my clothes and put them on a chair and then slipped on the gown. It was one of those that left my back slightly exposed, but least it had some ties to give me a little bit of modesty.

A few seconds later, the nurse came in and took about an armful of blood. It wasn’t nice being a pincushion, but I knew it was necessary.

After that, I just sat on the bed wondering what would next happen to me. There was a knock on the door and a woman came in. She was wearing a white coat and she had a stethoscope hanging out of her pocket. I cleverly deduced that she was a doctor. The nurse who did vampire thing with needles followed her in.

‘Right Sarah, what have you been up to?’

I was pleased that she said that with a smile on her face.

‘Erm.’ I replied intelligently.

She sat down on a chair and continued.

‘Come on Sarah, I haven’t seen your notes yet, as the doctor you are registered with seems a bit slow in sending them to us. It’s all digital now so it’s only a few presses on a keyboard, but anyway, just tell me all about what you have been doing and I’ll chase up your GP surgery later.’

I saw no point in hiding things and I assumed that Lady F would have told her about me anyway.

‘I...I was worried about male puberty and I read on line that if I took birth control pills...’

I told her what I had told Lady F. She didn’t seem that shocked but I could see that she was less than pleased about what I had done.

‘How long have you been taking the pills?’

‘Three or four months.’

‘Have you got them with you?’

I stood up and went over to my coat; I had the remains of a foil strip in my pocket, I then handed them to her and sat back down on the bed.

Doctor Saunders (she had a name tag) looked at them and then frowned.

‘These are quite strong; pity, I was hoping that they were mini pills, much safer although not as good as...well never mind that. I’m not going to preach at you. You knew what you were doing and you also knew that there are side effects and possible health issues with taking these in the amounts you have been doing. I need to give you an examination; are you okay with that?’

I nodded, relieved that she hadn’t shouted at me for being stupid.

‘Right, slip your gown off and let’s have a look at you.’

I won’t go into any great detail about the examination. If you have had one, you know about it, if you haven’t you don’t want to know. She did raise her eyebrows at my budding breasts and the size of my boy bits, never big at the best of times (thank God!) But didn’t say anything except, once again asking me how long I had been taking the pills.

After she had finished, she turned to the nurse.

‘Check to see if the MRI scanner is free, would you nurse?’

‘We’ll have a chat a bit later. I want you to have a scan while you are here and a few other tests. Then we’ll meet up this afternoon. I need to check and sort out a few things first and get the results through.’

The scanner was free evidently and I was given a robe and led down to a corridor to a room that held the MRI scanner. Lady F had asked me if I would be alright for a while as she had some things to do. I was okay with that as all this medical stuff was a bit embarrassing.

The MRI scan was a bit boring actually. I laid flat on my back in a metal tube, wearing headphones which pumped out soothing classical music. I was told to stay as still as possible which was difficult, as my nose itched. I was in there for about thirty minutes, but it felt like hours, eventually it was over and I was led back to my room. Then the nurse asked me to pee into a jar, which I found difficult to do with her in the room, even though I was behind some curtains. The nurse realised my embarrassment and left me to it for a few moments.

A little while later, I was sitting on the bed getting mega-bored, when the nurse came back into the room.

‘All done, good; you can get dressed now. ’

She left me to myself taking the jar and regretfully my pills with her, as I slowly proceeded to get dressed. I still only had, apart from my panties, boy’s things to wear, so I had little choice but to dress yet again in clothes that I detested.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door.

‘Are yer decent?’

‘Yes.’ I replied.

Lady F opened the door and came in.

‘Had yer medical MRI thingy and other stuff done? Good show. We’ll sort yer out, don’t worry. Had a word with the medico, she’s goin’ ter look at the blood, wee tests and MRI results and then have a word with yer GP, if she can get in touch and then she’ll be back this afternoon.’

‘Will she bring me my pills?’ I asked hopefully.

‘No; yer do know that what yer were takin was causin’ yer harm?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You are not stupid Sarah, yer know what I mean. You must have been aware of the side effects and possible complications when yer take those pills?’

I didn’t say any more, as I did know, but I had been desperate. I just hoped that I wasn’t going to be made to take different pills to make me manlier. I would rather die than do that.

I looked down, not wanting to show my expression, which I knew was defiance. I had been through a lot and I wasn’t about to be pushed off the tracks to my journey to girlhood, even by someone who had been so nice to me.

‘Sarah, look at me.’

I glanced up.

‘I promise yer that I will not let anyone make yer be what yer don’t want to be. Those pills are dangerous though and yer must stop takin’ them. The doc said that she won’t have the answers ter the tests for about two hours. How about yer getting’ dressed and I’ll take you fer a bite to eat?’

I just nodded, not trusting to say anything. My levels of trust were still a bit low; understandable after all the let downs I had had in my life. Actions would speak louder than any words she might say and I wasn’t going to take anything on a promise. I would see what happened and then, if necessary and things didn’t go the way I wanted, I would do a runner.

I stood up and went over to my clothes, eyeing them distastefully.

‘Not happy with the clothes?’ asked Lady F, following me over.

I shook my head; apart from the panties, they were all boys’ things and I hated to wear boys’ clothes.

I turned as Lady F went over to the door, opened it; outside stood the chauffeur who handed her two carrier bags.

‘Thank you Smith. We shall need the car in say twenty minutes?’

‘Smith has two daughters. I took the liberty of asking him to contact them for advice and then go and get some emergency supplies. Your clothes sizes were in yer notes and I asked him ter pop into the nearest department store and seek advice regarding size conversions and such like.’

She handed me the bags.

‘I’ll wait for ye outside. If yer hate the stuff or they don’t fit, we’ll get them changed. I believe that there is somethin’ called a sports bra in there somewhere. In my day...well never mind that; it’s supposed to be stretchy, so it should be all right. We’ll sort out more normal bras a bit later if we have time. That’s one thing that needs to fit properly; a badly fittin’ bra is hellish, and I wouldn’t trust Smith to get that right, he’s only a man! You have about fifteen minutes, is that enough time?’

I nodded, feeling a bit speechless.

She went out and left me to it. Putting the bags on the bed, I peeked in the first one, something in blue denim...

It was a pair of jeans, boot cut with embroidery on the pockets. It wasn’t a skirt, but this was the winter and most girls wore jeans a lot in the winter. It wasn’t as if I was going clubbing.

The next item was a round necked blouse; white, rather plain, but soft and silky with a single button closure at the back. Under that was a pink LA Gear hoodie that went well with the jumper and jeans. Finally there was a pack of 3 white sports bras, 5 plain white panties and three pair of socks in pink, black and dark blue.

This was a bit like Christmas!

I left the clothes on the bed and then eagerly looked in the other bag. On top was a dark pink Puffa quilted gilet that went well with the hoodie and jeans. Under that was a pair of trainers; black Nike air ones with, you guessed it, pink laces.

Did I say that I liked pink?

With a smile, I quickly took off the hideous gown and got dressed in ‘my’ new girls’ clothes. I didn’t know Mr Smith’s daughters or the shop assistant who helped him chose these things, but I was grateful as they all looked wonderful and girlie! I would thank them if I ever got the chance.

I was amazed that everything fitted okay, even the white Lycra bra, although a bit tight, it fitted me like a glove...oh, you know what I mean!

I finger combed my hair so that it looked slightly more feminine, but knew that it needed a proper cut to really make it look nice. It was longish, touching my shoulders, but still too boyish for my taste. I had taken a lot of crap over the fact that I liked my hair long.

Just as I slipped on the Puffa jacket, there was yet another knock on the door.

‘Are yer decent?’

‘Yes,’ I shouted.

Lady F came in and looked me up and down critically and then shook her head. I wondered if I looked awful or worse still too much like a boy in girls clothes...

‘How anyone in their right mind would ever think that you were a girl... Mind you, in my day, we weren’t allowed jeans; skirts and dresses – jodhpurs if yer were goin’ huntin’. Ah well, I suppose you gels have ter keep up with the fashions. Have ter do somethin’ with yer hair, damn’ disaster, but nothin’ a good salon can’t sort out. I suppose you would want some cosmetics? Hmm, I thought so. In my day...well never mind that now. Come along young Sarah, let’s go and get some nosh.’

We left the clinic. Outside was the Roller and the chauffeur had the rear door open for us to get in. Lady F got in first and I followed but not before I thanked Mr Smith for buying my nice new clothes.

‘That’s all right Miss, My girls helped me using Skype to see what was on offer and the shop assistant was very helpful too...’

‘We haven’t got all day, damn yer, my stomach thinks that me throats been cut. Get to it young Smith and Sarah; get in before yer catch yer death of cold. I hate the damn’ winter; give me the Bahamas any day...’

Grinning, I got in the car and the door almost silently closed behind me.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Hmm...’

~ §~

The restaurant wasn’t a Wimpy or a Maccy D. It was up market, posh, silver service and a ‘Would Modom care to follow me,’ type of place. It was somewhere that jeans were probably frowned upon, but when you have rolled up in a erm, Roller and one of the passengers is a Milady, doors are opened and such niceties such as a teenager inappropriately dressed is pushed under the expensive, plush carpet.

We were shown over to a corner table and our order was taken, double quick time. I wanted burger and chips, but it wasn’t a burger and chips restaurant. Instead, as this was just a late lunch, I was given Sandwich De Bifteck et pommes frites, which, I was told, was as close as they got to what I asked for!

It was strange in the restaurant being dressed as a girl. No one paid much attention to me. Ladies didn’t scream and leave the restaurant at the sight of me. Little kids didn’t laugh or point at the strange creature sitting with the weird lady wearing the funny fur coat. I was just being treated as a normal person; a normal girl type person.

We didn’t talk much during the meal as I think that lady Fairbairn preferred to eat rather than chat. At the coffee stage, where I had a coke and she sipped on her hot drink, she did draw me out a bit further regarding my past and all that had happened to me and seemed very interested about my life in India. She wanted to know about my parents and had a strange look on her face when I spoke about them. But then she shook her head as if dismissing a thought and proceeded to go on about the moles on her lawns and the trouble she had trying to get rid of them!

I almost distractedly listened to her as I ate. In the back of my mind was the worry about what the doctor would say when we went back to the clinic. The results of a lot of the tests would be available and there would be some sort of verdict about my condition. I didn’t say anything to Lady F, but as the time drew near to us returning to the clinic, I was starting to feel more and more panicky. Lady F must have sensed this.

‘Sarah, you don’t need to worry. Whatever happens, I’ll be there ter give yer all the help that yer need. We’ll face this together, alright?’

I nodded.

She looked at the gold watch on her wrist.

‘Right, let’s go and get all this sorted out.’

I followed her out of the restaurant. She didn’t pay the bill and just said to the waiter as we passed, ‘complements ter the chef.’ and then breezed out with me following closely behind. The fact that we were not stopped by security, kind of gave me the impression that she had an account there or some sort of an arrangement.

Mr Smith was outside with the car and had the back door opened, like before. Soon we were on the way back to the clinic. I think that Lady F realised that I was nervous as she kept up a conversation that didn’t need me to do or say anything other than nod or shake my head.

‘...so I told Winston that accordin’ to the Americans in all those dam’ films that came out after the war; they won the dam’ thing all by themselves. Bloody cheek, we were fightin’ the Germans years before them. Don’t blame the soldiers, damn’ fine bunch of men, but Hollywood, that’s a different kettle o’ fish...’

I zoned out. I couldn’t think of anything other than what the doctor would say. I was dreading arriving at the clinic and yet at the same time, I couldn’t wait to get it over with; a bit like waiting at the dentist to have a filling.

We drew up outside the clinic and in next to no time I was sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting for the doctor to arrive.

‘Don’t worry Sarah, she won’t be long...’

Just then the door opened and Doctor Saunders came in carrying a sheaf of papers.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ she said as she sat down. She glanced at me and smiled.

‘I see that you are wearing girls’ clothes now; you look very pretty.’

I blushed.

‘Now down to facts; when I examined you, I was somewhat surprised at what I saw. You haven’t been taking pills for that long and although they are a strong prescription, I wouldn’t have expected that level of change. Your genitals showed a marked level of immaturity and I was somewhat concerned about the state of your testes, being small and showing signs of atrophy; do you understand all this?’

I nodded, worried that I was ill or something. I had a sick feeling in my stomach about what I was hearing.

‘Good, well as you know, we took some blood and urine and although I won’t get the results of all of tests for a few days, I have some preliminary results. I suspect that you have PAIS or partial androgen insensitivity syndrome. This means that your body's tissues are partially sensitive to the effects of androgens. People with partial androgen insensitivity, which is sometimes also called Reifenstein Syndrome, can have normal female sex characteristics, both male and female sex characteristics, or normal male sex characteristics. They may be raised as males or as females, and may have a male or a female gender identity. People with mild androgen insensitivity are born with male sex characteristics, but are often infertile and tend to experience breast enlargement at puberty, hence your breast enlargement. Do you have problems passing urine?’

‘Sorry?’

‘When you go to the toilet, do you spray about much?’

‘Erm, yes, I normally sit down, otherwise it gets messy.’

The doctor nodded.

‘That is because your urethral opening is on the underside of your penis. The condition is known as Hypospadias...’

‘Will I die?’ I asked, my voice quavering.

She smiled.

‘NO, you won’t die. We just need to help you make a decision as to the way forward. One thing I can say is that almost certainly you are infertile. Have you had any erections?’

My face felt hot; it was an embarrassing subject! I looked at Lady F who was examining her nails closely.

‘No,’ I whispered.

‘Not even a twitch, in the mornings when you wake up, say?’

I shook my head.

‘You have no facial or body hair to speak of and you look physically like a girl that has just entered puberty but with extra bits.’

‘Can I get rid of my extra bits?’

‘Well, we need to do more tests starting early in the New Year. The MRI scans don’t show anything that we need worry about at the moment, but, as I say, it would be best to try to sort you out early in the New Year. You need to see a psychiatrist to make sure that you are mentally okay with remaining as a girl and to talk through any issues that you might have...’

‘I’m not mad!’ I said.

‘No one is saying that you are mad...’

‘Can I take my pills still?’

‘No, they are not meant for you and are dangerous. Because of your PAIS, you will not develop as a boy anyway, so we have time to sort all of your problems out.’

‘I won’t get all hairy and break out in muscles?’

She smiled.

‘There’s little danger in that. Going back to your gender problems, I know that you want to be a girl and you are a long way down that road already, but we have to make sure that the next steps we take are the right ones for you. Be patient, we will sort you out sooner rather than later. Now, I want you back here on January the second. Bring some nightclothes with you as you will be staying for at least a few days. By then all the results will be in. can you do that for me?’

I looked at Lady F who nodded slightly.

‘Yes, I’ll be here.’

‘Good, well I have to go and see some really sick patients now, not healthy looking girls like you. I’ll see you in a few weeks. Have a happy Christmas and New Year.’

With a nod at Lady F she left us.

Lady F looked at me.

‘At least you know where you stand now, Sarah. It looks like you have been closer to a girl than a boy since you were born.’

‘Yes.’

I still hadn’t taken in all that was said to me. Was I girl or a boy? It seemed that my body was rejecting the boy side of me and that was why I was developing as a girl; then there was the penis thing. I could never write my name in the snow...

‘Penny for your thoughts?’

‘Erm...what happens now?’

She looked at me, a slight smile playing on her lips.

‘Well Sarah, I think that we ought ter get yer some more clothes, get yer to a salon and then get out of the city and go ter somewhere that’s rather nice and have a lovely Christmas. Would you like that?

I felt my worries lift a bit. I remembered that the last Christmas that I was actually happy was the last one with my parents in India.

‘Yes please,’ I replied, smiling.

‘Have you ever been to Penmarris?’

To Be Continued…

The Cove By Liz Wright

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

Changes~Sarah's Story~Chapter 3

Author:

Susan Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Novel Chapter

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Themes:

Fresh Start

TG Elements:

Hair Salon / Long Hair / Wigs / Rollers

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Changes~Sarah's Story

A Penmarris Story
Chapter 3

Previously…

‘Penny for your thoughts?’

‘Erm...what happens now?’

She looked at me, a slight smile playing on her lips.

I felt my worries lift a bit. I remembered that the last Christmas that I was actually happy was the last one with my parents in India.

‘Yes please,’ I replied, smiling.

‘Have you ever been to Penmarris?’

And now the story continues…

‘Penmarris?’

‘Yes, nice spot; I have a smallish house there. Down by the sea, don’t yer know.’

‘That’ll be nice,’ I said, ‘I like the seaside.’

‘Right, let’s get yer sorted. I assume that yer don’t mind going ter the salon and then getting’ some togs?’

‘Togs?’

‘Clothes gel, clothes.'

‘That sounds nice, ‘I replied, ‘but I don't have any money.’

‘What's that got ter do with it?’

‘I can't afford…’

‘Money's not a problem…’

‘I don't want charity!’

She looked at me kindly.

‘It's not charity Sarah, it's me helpin’ you out because I want ter’. It's good that you feel that way. I was the same as you at your age. I wanted ter go it alone, have my independence and all that stuff, but sometimes, we all need help and yer should take it in the spirit that it's given. Will yer make an old lady very happy?’

‘You aren't that old.’

‘Flattery won't get you anywhere, or do yer need your eyes tested?’

~ §~

It was like I was in a dream. I pinched myself and then went ‘ouch’. If it was a dream, then I could feel pain in it!

Mr Smith drove us around Exeter and in next to no time, I found myself in a salon. It was a very expensive looking place and as we walked in, my nose wrinkled at the strong chemical smell. It was that perm smell. My mum had taken me into a salon in India, I forget where; we moved about so much, anyway, it was that sort of pong! It wasn't very pleasant and I hoped that I wasn’t going to be forced to have a perm; I would have to think of an exit strategy, like running for my life!

A lady, slightly older than the rest of the staff came over; I took her to be the receptionist.

‘Ah, Lady Fairbairn; nice to see you again.’

‘Andrea, this is my young ward, Sarah. She needs sortin’ out.’

Andrea looked at me and I could see a look of pain cross her face.

‘I see what you mean. Tomboy are you dear?’

I just nodded. I didn’t want to get into any sort of explanation about who or what I was.

‘Right, Mr Alphonse is just finishing with another client. I think Milady, you asked for a private room?’

‘Yes, if that’s convenient. Young Sarah here is a bit on the shy side.’

Andrea looked at me sympathetically.

‘Never mind dear, we don’t bite unless it’s a full moon.’

She laughed at her own joke and I smiled, as I wanted to seem polite.

‘Please follow me,’ she said.

Being a good girl (sort of), I did as I was told and I soon found myself in a mini salon type room off to the side. Lady F followed me in and just motioned me to sit in the barber’s chair or whatever it’s called.

‘Just wait here and Mr Alphonse won’t be a moment,’ said Andrea and then left us.

‘I…I’ve never been to a place like this except with my mum and I don’t remember that much about it.’

‘Alphonse is very good. He has magical hands. He knows about you and it doesn’t matter.’

‘He’ll need to have magical hands with me to work on.’

‘Don’t put yerself down, you are pretty Sarah and don’t forget it…’

The door opened.

‘Ah Laydies, it is vunderba to see you.’

‘Drop the damn’ fake accent Cedric; it’s me here not some damn’ simpleton.’

‘Sorry Lady F; so what do we have here?’

How can I describe Cedric? When he came in, I thought that he looked rather camp, if that’s the right expression. Pink shirt with a multi coloured silk scarf around his neck; bright green trousers and blue shoes completed the look. He looked more like a parrot than a person. Then there was the fake accent that defies description, maybe a mix of Italian, Greek and Newcastle.

Cedric’s ‘normal’ accent was what I would call soft West Country.

He took one look at me and a pained expression flitted across his face.

‘Who did this?’ he asked, ‘what sane person would make this girl go around with hair like this?’

I was pleased that he called me a girl, but not so pleased that he considered my hair to be a freak of nature.

‘Cedric,’ said Lady F, ‘behave yourself, you are here ter do somethin’ with her hair, not get her knickers in a twist.’

‘Sorry Milady, it’s just…’

He gave me another look, shuddered and then seemed to pull himself together.

‘Thank God you have come to me.’

He walked around the chair, eyeing my hair from different angles; tutting occasionally and raising his eyebrows individually and sometimes, collectively. I was getting a bit unnerved by this time and if Lady F hadn’t been standing in front of the door, I would have probably made a run for it.

I jumped suddenly as he looked at me straight in the eye.

‘Do you trust me?’

I didn’t know him from Adam, or Eve for that matter, and I glanced over at Lady F who briefly nodded.

‘What the hell.’ I thought, ‘It can’t be much worse than it already is.’

‘Yes,’ I whispered.

‘Good girl,’ he said.

Then things started to happen. He left the room and started shouting instructions.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Lady F, coming over, ‘his bark is worse than his bite, a bit like me really.’

‘But Milady…’I said.

‘None of that Milady nonsense; would yer prefer ter call me Auntie Dotty, after all I am in loco parentis?’

‘In loco praying mantis what?’

‘What in thunder they teach yer kids in school? In loco parentis means that I’m looking after yer and responsible fer yer wellbein’.’

‘I…I would like to call yer…I mean you Auntie Dotty, if possible.’ I said quietly.

‘No problem. Now where has that pest Cedric got to…?’

She left me to it and while I was alone, I reflected on all that had happened to me over the past few hours. This time yesterday, I was unhappy, unwanted and unloved. Now I think that the opposite was true and, at last, I had someone who really cared for me; even though it would only be for a short time. I kind of wished that I could stay with Auntie Dotty forever; she had impressed me so much, but I knew that she was busy and important and that I was just probably one of her ‘good works’. One thing I was sure of, she would help me find a home where I would be appreciated. It was strange that I had such feelings about someone. I Hadn’t trusted anyone since my parents died. There was something about her that drew me to her. Alright, she was ancient, but she was as strong as an ox, as far as I could see and when she smiled, the years rolled off her face and I could see a glimpse of how truly beautiful she must have been when she was younger…

Just then, the door burst open and Cedric came in followed by two girls in pink tabards.

It looked like they really meant business.

‘Oh blimey!’ I thought.

~ §~

They stuck this pink cape thingie on me that covered me to my knobbly knees and then they began…

The next hour went in a haze. My hair was washed several times and unction’s and lotions were liberally applied. This work was done by one of the girls whilst the other one got to work on my nails which were, according to Cedric, ‘a crime against humanity.’

Auntie Dotty stayed with me, sitting on a chair in the background, reading Country Life and sipping coffee. She sometimes looked up and gave me encouraging smiles, but it seems that she did trust Cedric and he wasn’t stopped from doing anything.

There was a mirror, but it was covered up and I wasn’t able to see what was going on with my hair. I could see the results of my fingernail treatment and they looked rather nice now and had a lovely shape. They, together with my toenails would be painted in an appropriate matching colour when I had my makeover done. Did I mention the makeover; probably not. Evidently, Cedric had had a minor row off camera with Auntie Dotty regarding a girl of my age wearing makeup other than at parties, balls or special occasions like being presented to the Queen. For once, Cedric won and the argument given, I found out later, was that Cedric wanted to show me my inner beauty and how it radiated to my outer persona, via the use of subtle and yet striking changes to my already stunning visage.

I didn’t understand that then and still don’t. As if I was anything other than a plain Jane! I think that some grownups tend to be a bit full of themselves, don’t you? Anyway, the long and the short of it was that Cedric got the go ahead and I got the full treatment’ although what that treatment was, I hadn’t a clue, as I had very little experience of being in any way beautified.

Oh, and one other thing, midway through all this, I got my ears pierced. Don’t let anyone convince you that it doesn’t hurt, it does. Still, the results were rather nice!

Anyway, back to the torture, I mean haircut, no, wrong word again, styling. After the girls had finished with me, Cedric went to town with my hair. I swear, at the time, I thought that he had cut most of it off and I was feeling a bit faint at the site of all my lovely hair being swept up and put into a bag. It reminded me a bit of that woman in the sci-fi horror that had all her hair shaved off; you know the one, Sigourney Thatcher –no Weaver. I was feeling decidedly light headed and wondered in passing how much I weighed without my hair.

Could I get a wig?

I was brought out of my reverie by Cedric, who stopped snipping, looked at me from several different directions and then eventually considered himself satisfied with his work.

After telling me how wonderful I looked, Cedric called in his top cosmetologist to do a complete makeover, then went off to torture some other poor unfortunate woman leaving me to the tender mercies of Sharon.

Sharon was the cosmewotsit and she went on about skin types, t-zones and other technical things that went totally over my head. I was only fourteen and had no experience of what was happening to me. It was all a pretty steep learning curve! Maybe other fourteen year old girls knew about this stuff, but it was all very new to me. It was never really about the clothes and the look; it was more about the me inside. I was a girl and that was it. Having nice girlie clothes, hair and makeup would only be the icing on the cake and I would then be able to show the world that I was what I always thought I was – a girl.

‘Anyway,’ I thought, ‘enough of the psycho babble; I will probably get my fill of that when I see the trick-cyclist that my doctor threatened me with!’

I may be giving the impression that I was unhappy with what was happening to me. This is far from the truth; it was just that I was going into the unknown and it was all bit overpowering. I just hoped that I would come out of the other end of the experience with hair, body and sanity intact.

Oh, one other thing. I really, really, really hoped that the stuff being plastered on my face wouldn’t make me look like Coco the clown.

My eyebrows had plucked like a chicken and shaped, I was told, because I had what looked like two hairy caterpillars above my eyes.

I was given a running commentary about what was being done to me but I took only bits of it in. One of the things that did stick was that I was given a light foundation, not heavy because my skin, despite being an oil slick zone, was light and clear. It should be; I had no spots (thank God!) And I was only fourteen. Then I had to close my eyes while she put on eye-shadow, ‘Various colours to blend and highlight your lovely large eyes,’

‘Yea, whatever,’ I thought, ‘do girls have to go through this every day? Maybe I should just try being a boy…Na, ain’t gonna happen.'

After the eye shadow thingie, I was told to open my eyes and stay very still while she avoided stabbing me in the eye with eyeliner pencil and then mascara whatsit.

After that, I just let her get on with it, as she applied blusher to my cheek; I wondered why I would need that, as I would be heavily blushing after seeing what had been done to me. I was getting a teensy bit antsy about not seeing myself in the mirror but manfully, or maybe womanfully, I held myself in check. After all I had all sorts of hormones coursing around my body and someone needed to keep them in check…

Oh, by the way, I didn’t mention, whilst Sharon was painting my face like the Forth Bridge, a few of the other girls were going to work on my nails, painting them, I mean; fingers and toes. The toes were a bit of a problem, as I am a bit ticklish in the foot department. They nearly had to strap me down at one point. Auntie Dotty had to speak to me rather severely.

‘Fer God’s sake girl, hold still. Anyone would have thought that yer were bein’ tortured; in my day etc…’

Work stopped on the construction of my face until the grizzly toe painting episode passed and then Sharon continued her work with an intensity only matched by that chap who painted the Sistine chapel …you know the one, erm, Michael Angel?

Anyway, back to my poor face; Sharon went to work on my lips and I had several coats applied and I wondered if my lips would look much fuller; they tasted slightly of strawberries and that was nice. Then I was told off for licking my lips. I just couldn’t win!

Finally, Cedric came back in, dismissed all the girls and it was just him, me and Auntie Dotty left.

He looked at me.

‘Hmm, better, much better.’

He helped me off with the cape and then played with my hair for a bit and then nodded.

‘You’ll do. Do you want to see what we have done?’

I nodded slowly. At least the pain would be short; a bit like having a wax job, or so I read somewhere.

Auntie Dotty put down her magazine, which she seemed to have been reading upside down for some reason, and stood up.

‘If yer don’t like what’s been done to yer hair, we’ll sort it out.’

‘Don’t like, don’t like; Lady Fairbairn, I protest. My work is magnif…’

‘Oh do be quiet Cedric, I know that yer the best hair wallah fer miles around, but she has a mind of her own and if she doesn’t like it, she can change it.’

Cedric looked far from happy at that possibility, but with a tight-lipped smile that spoke volumes, he reached over and removed the cloth hiding the mirror and then turned the chair around to face it.

What can I say; looking at my reflection, it was as if I was seeing someone else. I opened my mouth and my reflection copied me. Moving my head, made it move at the same time.

It was me; a nice me, dare I say it a very pretty me.

My hair was shorter, but not much shorter. I did have what you could call dirty blond hair and now it shone with a brilliance that it never had before. It was styled in a sort of a long bob and parted on the left. It looked beautiful and nothing like the disaster that was my hair, when I was pretending to be a boy.

I put my hand up to my face. Holding my hair back slightly, I could just see the gold studs in my ears and although my poor lobes were slightly aching, I thought that the pain was worth it and I looked forward to the time when I could wear more flamboyant ones. I saw that my slightly extended hard gel nails matched exactly, the carefully applied pink lip gloss which did make my lips seem fuller and more girlie. My now peaches and cream type complexion looked wonderful and my eyes; well, they looked huge, defined by the use of the eye liner pencil and the blended colour of my eyelids. The mascara enhanced, thickened and lengthened my lashes, making the overall look complete.

‘You like?’ asked Cedric.

‘I like very much, thank you so much. What do you think Auntie?’

‘Lovely,’ she said with a slight break in her voice.

She was looking at me with a puzzled look on her face. Then she shook her head and continued, ‘more importantly, what do you think?’

‘I love it. I look like a real girl now!’

‘You are a real girl,’ said Auntie firmly.

‘Aww, Auntie!’

I think that I fell in love with her then.

I got up and gave her a hug and then Cedric.

‘Anyone can see you are a girl all the way through,’ said Cedric, ‘now, I need to look after my other clients; but Sarah, you must come back when your hair grows out a bit and then I can work my magic on you again.’

As we went out of the salon to the waiting Mr Smith and his Roller, I thanked the other girls for all the work that they had done.

I never thought, in my wildest dreams that I would have the full salon experience, but now I had been through it, I wondered when I would next get the chance. It was very addictive and worth all the hassle.

It was starting to get dark as we drove out of Exeter. Christmas lights were everywhere; on houses, a few public buildings and in some of the shopping areas that we passed through. Auntie fell asleep, snoring slightly and that left me to look at the scenery as it went by and slowly turned from urban to countryside. The journey was to take about an hour and a bit according to Mr Smith and I couldn’t wait to get to our destination – Auntie Dotty’s little house.

All too soon the sun went down and it was dark outside. My eyes started drooping and it wasn’t long before I joined Auntie (I loved being able to call her that; it almost made me feel like family!) and fell asleep.

~ §~

‘Wake up Sarah, we’re almost there.’

Yawning and stretching, it took a moment to realise where I was, and then it came rushing back as I looked down at my hands and saw my pink fingernails. I glanced at Auntie and she was looking at me.

‘Well Sarah; I hope that yer will like me little shack. Its small and cramped, but I like it.’

‘I’m sure that I will love it, as long as you are there with me.’

‘Get orf with yer; none of that sweet, saccharine nonsense. We didn’t win the war with an attitude like that. In my day…’

She went on a bit about how the war was won but I could see how affected she was by my words.

We drove on for a while through dark lanes. I could see very little, except when we passed through infrequent villages. At last, we climbed up a steep hill and then the road bent to the left. The car stopped in a lay-by and Mr Smith turned off the engine, got out of the car, came around to Auntie’s door and opened it for her.

‘Right young Sarah; Smith and I thought that it would be a good idea to stop here and stretch our legs.’

With that she got out of the car and I scrambled out after her.

‘Thanks Mr Smith,’ I said.

‘Just Smith, Miss.’

‘Oh, right, erm, I think.’

Auntie walked to the side if the road where there was a fence. She motioned to me and I followed.

I gasped as I looked down at the picture postcard scene of a harbour and seaside village. The moon was full and I could pick out the features almost as if it was daylight. The harbour itself was bathed in light from street lamps dotted all around the harbour wall and along the quay. Fishing boats were tied up; a few had lights on them as fisherman worked on the nets and catches, accompanied by sea gulls wheeling about, probably hoping for some tasty snack. Small boats and yachts were dotted about in the calm safe water of the small harbour bobbing up and down in the moonlight making the water ripple.

My eyes were drawn towards the quay and the houses and cottages dotted all up and around the cove. Being Christmas, I could see thousands of colourful lights everywhere. On the quay in particular, there were lights strung between lampposts and in the centre was a huge Christmas tree that was absolutely covered with twinkling lights and had a huge star on top that shone out and made the place even more festive looking, if that was possible.

Lots of people were walking along the quay and I could see stalls selling hot food and drinks and at the far end was an ice rink, of all things. I had always wanted to skate; maybe I would get the chance here.

‘It’s lovely.’ I whispered.

‘Yes it is and it’s your home for a while.’

‘I wish it could be forever,’ I said enthusiastically and then I looked at her, ‘sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.’

‘Well Sarah, sometimes wishes do come true, but let’s be patent and enjoy things as they are now.’

‘Yes Auntie.’ I replied with a sigh.

I would enjoy all this while I could and even if it all ended after Christmas, I would at least have my memories.

~ §~

It was getting a bit chilly, so we reluctantly got back into the car. Soon we were climbing again, the car I mean, with us in it. I was kind of hoping that we could go through Penmarris, but Auntie said that she would show me around the following day and I had to be satisfied with that. I was dying to put on some skates!

I hoped that her little house was nice, but it didn’t really matter as I would have been happy anywhere with someone that liked me rather than that awful soulless home that I had lived in for far too long.

We passed the church, which looked nice and floodlit, although the steeple looked a bit wonky à la the leaning tower of Pizza or was that Pisa? Then I saw what looked like an infant’s or junior school, but it was a bit too dark to see clearly. Eventually we went down a long lane and turned and went through an entrance with large wrought iron gates. There was a long sweeping drive and to the left were some pockmarked lawns and floodlit trees and in the distance a lake with a huge fountain that was lit from beneath with changing coloured lights. It was all very pretty and I wondered where we were going.

The car swept around another bend and there, in front of us was a huge mansion also floodlit, it looked like it had loads of rooms and it reminded me of Darcy’s mansion form the TV series Pride and Prejudice – it was that big.

‘That’s a nice house,’ I said to Auntie, ‘I bet someone swanky and important lives there. How far is it far to your little house?’

She smiled.

‘Not far,’ she replied.

The car was now travelling on gravel and the tyres crunched as we slowly came nearer to the mansion.

We slowed down and then stopped outside some huge, impressive double doors. I wondered why we had stopped and thought that maybe Auntie was going to have a word with someone.

One of the doors opened and a man that looked a bit like a butler type person came out, walked down the steps and then glided over to Auntie’s car door.

The man opened the door and Auntie stepped out.

‘Come along Sarah, don’t dawdle.’

Puzzled, I followed.

The man looked at me and smiled – he had a nice smile.

He turned to Auntie.

‘Welcome home Milady.’

‘Thank you Jenkins; this is young Sarah, she’s come to stay with us for a while.’

‘Welcome Miss Sarah, I hope that you will enjoy being with us.’

For once in my life, I was speechless.

To Be Continued…

The Cove By Liz Wright

~o~O~o~

To all my long suffering and patient readers, I would like to wish you a very Happy Christmas and a wonderful New Year.

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

Changes~Sarah's Story~Chapter 4

Author:

Susan Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Novel Chapter

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Themes:

Fresh Start

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Changes~Sarah's Story

A Penmarris Story
Chapter 4

Previously…

The car was now travelling on gravel and the tyres crunched as we slowly came nearer to the mansion.

We slowed down and then stopped outside some huge, impressive double doors. I wondered why we had stopped and thought that maybe Auntie was going to have a word with someone.

One of the doors opened and a man that looked a bit like a butler type person came out, walked down the steps and then glided over to Auntie’s car door.

The man opened the door and Auntie stepped out.

‘Come along Sarah, don’t dawdle.’

Puzzled, I followed.

The man looked at me and smiled – he had a nice smile.

He turned to Auntie.

‘Welcome home Milady.’

‘Thank you Jenkins; this is young Sarah, she’s come to stay with us for a while.’

‘Welcome Miss Sarah, I hope that you will enjoy being with us.’

For once in my life, I was speechless.

And now the story continues…

‘Come along Sarah, don’t dawdle,’ said Auntie.

Mr Jenkins looked at me kindly and then winked.

‘Please follow me Miss.’

I followed him, as Auntie had already gone up the stairs with more vigour than a Springer Spaniel puppy.I could hear her barking orders at unseen lackeys.

As I went through the tall ornate doorway, I gasped.

The hallway was bigger than most houses inside. The ceilings were so high, you could imagine clouds up there…there were clouds, but of the painted variety with obligatory cherubim’s and the occasional seraphim dotted about. It was heady stuff…

‘Oooh!’

I had seen the huge Christmas tree over to the side. It was a good fifteen feet tall and was covered with decorations, tinsel and twinkling lights. On top was an angel that shone brightly. I had never seen such a prettily dressed tree (or angel) before. It was a real tree, none of your artificial ones. There wasn’t a dropped needle in sight and I assumed that one of the servants kept the marble floor clear of debris on a regular basis; although, if I were a Christmas tree, I wouldn’t dare to drop my needles there!

‘Sarah, where are yer?’

Mr Jenkins pointed at a side room and whispered, ‘I believe that you are wanted Miss.’

‘Call me Sarah, please.’

He shook his head as if I had sworn at him.

‘That will not do Miss. Please hurry her Ladyship does not like to be kept waiting.’

‘Okay Mr Jenkins,’ I replied brightly.

Another pained expression crossed his face.

‘Just Jenkins Miss, if you please.’

‘Why?’

‘Because that is the way that things are done here, Miss Sarah.’

‘SARAH!’

I gave Jenkins one more look, raised my eyes to the heavens and then went into the room from where or is that whence Auntie had bellowed from.

I was attacked by a huge dog!

Before I knew it, I was flat on my back on the luxuriously thick carpet, covered in a furry, wriggly thing and being licked to death.

‘Fifi, desist!’

The weight on me instantly removed itself and then trotted over to Auntie, who was standing by an impressive fireplace looking more than slightly annoyed.

‘Fifi attenshun!’

The dog immediately sat down with a straight back and looked more like a doggy statue than a real live, erm, dog.

‘Apologies Sarah, Fifi sometimes forgets herself.’

Standing up and brushing off my skirt, I asked, ‘what is she?’

‘Labradoodle,’

‘labrawhat?’ I asked.

‘Doodle; a cross between a Labrador and a poodle. She was given ter me by one of the staff who couldn’t handle her. Just needed a firm hand.’

‘Oh.’

I pitied the poor pooch and wondered if I was going to be told to stand to attention if I ever did anything wrong.

Just then Jenkins glided in. Butlers do that evidently; it must be something they are taught at Butler School.

‘Yes, Jenkins?’

‘Miss Sarah’s room is now ready, Milady.’

‘Very good, a late supper in the drawing room, I think and then Sarah, I think that you will need ter go ter bed soon; yer look all in.’

I was feeling tired; it had been a long day!

Before I knew it, I was sitting in a nice snug room no bigger than a small football pitch. We were sat around a fire and I was eating a sandwich; ham and cheese for those who are interested, and Auntie was talking to me.

‘Tomorrow is Christmas Eve so yer can spend the day lookin’ around and getting ter know where everythin’ is. I need to sort out some paperwork about yer and speak ter some people. I will have ter talk ter the vicar too; I don’t want any of that happy-clappy nonsense at the Christmas carol service. He mentioned somethin’ about tambourines – not while I’m alive and still kickin’!

‘Enough of my problems, If yer need ter go inter Penmarris, Smith will give yer a lift. I trust young Sarah that you will do nothin’ to discredit yerself or me?’

I looked at her. The thought of doing anything stupid when she had taken me under her wing and away from that hateful home, left me feeling a bit sick.

‘No Auntie; you can trust me.’

‘Thought so; I can read people. I rarely get that wrong. You’ve had a rough time and I want to make sure that your future is much better than your past. Yer have a lot that’s going to happen to yer soon; medical stuff and all that nonsense. We need ter get that sorted as soon as possible. Also yer need a lot more clothes. I think that we need to get yer inter town to get some more. We will see what we can do after Boxing Day. Might drag along Sandra, me cooks girl. She’s about your age and she’ll help yer choose. It’s up to you who you tell about yer erm, medical problems. I trust all my staff with me life, but yer don’t know them from Adam or Eve fer that matter.’

She smiled at her own feeble joke and then ploughed on. ‘How are yer feelin’?’

I thought for a moment.

‘Confused, tired and bit afraid.’

‘Afraid of what?’

‘That this is all a dream and I’ll wake up in the home and then it will all be the same as before.’

I felt a lick on my hand and there was Fifi, looking at me. I swear that she knew I was a bit upset. I stroked her and she seemed to like that.

‘Sarah, this isn’t a dream. Yer here and safe with me. I promise yer that no harm will come to yer. Now, I think that its time fer bed.’

She got up and pulled a bell cord thingie. Seconds later, Jenkins glided in.

‘Ah Jenkins, please escort my ward to her bedroom. Sarah, just pull the bell cord in the bedroom if you need me or anyone else. Yer bedroom is next to mine. Have a good sleep and I’ll see yer fer breakfast tomorrow.’

I got up and looked down on her. On an impulse, I went over and kissed her on the cheek.

‘Thank you for being so nice to me.’

‘Get away with yer girl; It’s me Christian duty and anyway, I like yer and there is something…oh never mind that. Orf to bed yer go yer young scallywag.’

I giggled and then got up, following the efficient Jenkins out of the room. As I passed the doorway, I looked around and there was that puzzled look on Aunties face as she gazed into the fire. I hoped that she didn’t feel like she had taken on too much with me!

~ §~

Jenkins led the way up a long wide marble staircase. I didn’t say anything as I looked around in wonder. The inside wasn’t quite as grand as The Palace of Mysore in India; I had visited there with my parents once, but it was very impressive. The candelabras alone must have been worth a fortune. There were many paintings on the walls. I assumed that they were of Auntie’s relatives and ancestors; most of the paintings looked quite old.

‘This way Miss,’ said Jenkins, as he turned left at the top of the stairs.

I followed him as he walked along a corridor with even more paintings, some works of art, the occasional bust and bizarrely two suits of armour!

We walked what appeared to be miles of corridors. At one point, I stopped him.

‘Mr Jenkins…’

He turned and looked at me, ‘Just Jenkins Miss.’

‘Oh, sorry erm, Jenkins; look you need a bike or at least skates to get along all these corridors. My feet are starting to ache.’

‘We get used to it, Miss, he replied with a slight smile on his face, ‘I do not think that Milady would approve, do you?’

‘Probably not,’ I sighed, ‘are we nearly there or do we have to stop for provisions?’

‘Very droll Miss; just around this corner…’

He stopped outside a door, opened it for me and motioned that I should go in.

‘Ooh,’ I said, looking around in wonder, ‘this is erm, big.’

’Yes Miss, but not as big as some. Lady Fairbairn’s bedroom is something like twice this size; if I might show you around?’

‘Wow, yea, okay.’ I replied intelligently.

‘The dressing room is through here and the en-suite bathroom is beyond…’

The bedroom was mind boggling. It was big, bigger than most lounges including the one at Dotheboys Hall, I mean the care/orphanage type home/dump that I used to live in. The bed was large, a double one and it was very soft and bouncy; I thought that I might do the trampoline test a bit later... The furniture; I expected to be antique but wasn’t really, just cream coloured, well made and contemporary; IKEA flat-pack it wasn’t!

‘I’ll leave you now Miss, if you want anything, just call using the bell pull.’

He pointed at the cord by the fireplace and I noted it for future reference.

‘Thank you, M…Jenkins.’

‘No problem Miss. May I say that I think that you look nothing like a boy and how the authorities ever thought otherwise, I do not know.’

I went over and gave him a hug. Hey, I’m an impulsive person, all right?

He coughed, went red in the face and mumbled something about, ‘Milady wouldn’t approve,’ and then with a smile, he left me to get further acquainted with my room.

~ §~

I sat on the bed. I couldn’t believe it. I was in a posh mansion and actually being looked after by people who actually cared about me, wearing the clothes that screamed girl. I wasn't used to all that sensory overload and for some reason, I burst into tears.

After a while I pulled myself together and went into the bathroom.

And what a bathroom it was. There was marble everywhere but it was a modern bathroom with an oval shaped bath and what looked like Jacuzzi nozzles in the sides of it. The taps looked like gold but were probably just shiny brass. Over to one side was a power shower that could have held three (four at a pinch) people. Along one wall were two basins set in a marbled counter and I assumed that this was a double bedroom or why would you need two basins?

There was a long mirror that took up the whole of the wall above the basins and it was lit in such a way that I could see every nook and cranny of my face.

On the counter were several girlie type things like face and body cleansers, body scrubs, shampoos, shower gels and a couple of shower hats in wrappers. Also, there were hair brushes and combs, a lady razor and on the wall was a hair-dryer. Everything looked new.

It was all a bit overwhelming, but I was a bit tired and I knew that I should get ready for bed before I fell over. Taking off my clothes, I folded them neatly on a chair and then, just in my panties and bra, I used the face cleanser to clean off my makeup which, after my little crying episode, looked a bit worse for wear.

Me in makeup! I still couldn’t believe it. I would have to do the YouTube thing and look up how I should apply makeup. I had very little experience and I wanted to look as nice and pretty as possible. Maybe one of the maids might help me, if they would. What was that girls name; the cooks daughter? Oh yes, Sandra. Maybe should could be my first friend…I didn’t have any and it would be nice if she would accept me.

That made me wonder, how many people knew about me and what and who I was. I shrugged; they would have to accept me as I was and if not, well that was their problem, not mine.

I was beginning to get my confidence back; a confidence that had been severely dented after losing my parents and all that had happened to me afterwards. At last, I could see a light at the end of an extremely long tunnel.

When my face was free of makeup, I ran a bubble bath and in a few minutes, with a sigh, I sank into it. It was so nice to relax and just let the warm sudsy water caress me and take away all the knots and strains of that strange, yet exciting day. Looking at my small breasts peaking out of the suds of my bubble bath, I smiled. At least I looked like a girl from the waist up. Soon, I hoped, I would get rid of that funny appendage down below and I would feel even more of a complete girl. I knew from when I read up things on the internet that there was a silly rule that meant that you had to wait until you was 18 before you could have a full sex change op, because of psychological issues and the fact that you were still growing. I supposed that I would have to wait for that. I expected to have myself de-balled though as they weren’t much larger than peanuts and they had hypowhatsited or something, you know, shrivelled.

I would have to be content with that. The mere fact that I wouldn’t have to pretend that I was a boy anymore would be enough for me. My fear had always been that I would grow up to be a ten ton, muscle bound moron of a man with hair and a deep voice who scratched his bum, farted, picked his nose and all the other things that evidently made you manly.

Eventually, the water got a bit cold and my skin was getting prunyfied, so I got out of the bath, dried myself off with an enormously fluffy towel and then, once I was dry, I walked back into the bedroom. I still couldn’t get over the size and opulence of the bedroom. My toes curled a bit on the thick cream carpet, as I waded over to the bed.

Someone unknown and unseen had been in the bedroom while I had been soaking myself in the bath. On the pillow was a cream satin nightdress and matching panties. I picked the nightie up and held it up against myself. It felt delicious, if you know what I mean. In seconds I had slipped on both the panties and the nightie. The nightdress had spaghetti straps and went down to my ankles and it looked and felt simply gorgeous.

I couldn’t stop yawning and so I decided to go to bed. After switching on the bedside lamp, I turned off the main light and jumped into bed. Then I groaned as I saw that the curtains were not fully closed and that there was a chink of strong moonlight coming in. Getting up, I went over to the window, marvelling at the feel of the silky nightie against my body. I could definitely get used to this!

Reaching the window, I glanced out and saw for the first time that the bedroom overlooked some extensive lawns and a lake in the middle distance. The lawn looked a bit worse for wear as it seemed like a mole village was underneath it. It was pock-marked with mounds of earth all over it and I wondered why nothing was being done about it.

I yawned again. I really was very tired.

‘Maybe I might get to have a look around tomorrow,’ I thought as I drew the curtains and then slipped back into bed.

I was very sleepy but for some reason, I couldn’t fully drop off and I lay there for ages, just thinking about what had happened to me and what the future might bring. Eventually, I fell into a light sleep.

I may have imagined it, but I felt a hand on my hair brushing it off my face and also a light kiss on my cheek…

~ §~

The next morning, I was awoken by the sound of the curtains being drawn back.

‘Morning Miss,’ said a cheery voice.

I cracked an eye open and there was a girl in a maids uniform.

‘I’m Maisie; here’s a cup of tea Miss. The Mistress has asked that you get yourself up as soon as possible and that she will meet you in the breakfast room in half an hour. Dress informally; that doesn’t mean jeans and t shirt here Miss, but something that your mother would be proud of. Sorry Miss I forgot about your Mum. I always put my foot in it. I’ll leave you to get ready. Some clothes are in the walk in closet, they should fit, well some of them anyway. If you need me to help you dress or anything, just pull the bell push; bye.’

With that, she was gone. I didn’t even have time to thank her. I sat up and sipped at the tea, which was nice and hot, just the way I liked it. I felt refreshed and ready for the day. Not like before in the home when getting up was just the prelude to yet another horrible day.

Once again, I wondered how many knew about my somewhat unique circumstances. Shrugging, I just told myself not to worry as I drained my cup and got up.

I had a quick shower, making sure to wear a shower hat so that I didn’t have to dry my hair. I know that I had a bath the previous night, but I wanted to play with the power shower; it was so powerful, it nearly knocked me over!

After drying myself, I went over to the walk-in closet and had a look-see. There were dresses, skirts and blouses on hangers; lots of drawers with panties, nighties, tights, socks, jumpers, cardigans and all manner of other goodies. I wondered where they all came from but I did note that they were all new with tags and looked roughly my size. It appeared that Auntie was a bit of an organiser. I wondered how many people she had running around after her when she wanted something done. I had a feeling that it was a lot!

I wanted to wear one of the lovely dresses, but didn’t think that they were suitable, as the weather outside was cold and I probably needed to wear something sensible. In the end, I wore a denim skirt and white blouse; my thinking being that if I were trying on things, they would be easy to take off and put on.

As I mentioned before, there were some panties and tights in one of the drawers, still in wrappers and I chose pink cotton panties and fairy thick, soft and warm, black ribbed tights. Looking at the antique clock on the mantel piece, I saw that would have to get a move on. I slipped on a pair of low heeled black shoes, pulled a brush through my hair, which still had some shape from the day before and then I noticed that my time had run out, so no makeup, except for a touch of foundation and some lippy as I didn’t want to keep Milady waiting!

One final look at myself and I dashed out of the bedroom, along one corridor, then another and another and then I realise that I was lost!

I didn’t want to be late as I wanted to make a good impression, but the huge mansion had more corridors than a large comprehensive school and my sense of direction wasn't good at the best of times.

Just then, I heard some heavy breathing behind me and I slowly turned around…

‘Woof!’

It was Fifi. She looked at me with her tongue lolling out and then without another word (or woof) she turned and went down the corridor. For lack of anything else to do, I followed her. She went along one corridor and then another…you get the picture. Eventually we went downstairs and then I recognised the huge hallway with the ginormous Christmas tree with its madly twinkling lights.

Fifi sailed on and then went through another set of doors and I found myself in a large room overlooking the lake. To one side was a large table and sitting at the head of it was Auntie.

‘Ah, there you are young Sarah. Fifi found you did she? More intelligent than many men she is and not a few women too. Big place this; easy ter get lorst. Come and sit down and have some food. Feed yerself from the dishes on the table. Don’t like ter trouble the staff too much in the mornin’s.’

I sat down next to her and the next quarter of an hour or so, we ate in silence. Eventually she put her cup down and looked out of the window. Suddenly, she stiffened, sat up straight, almost growled and then got up, moving swiftly to the window.

She threw open the window, picked up a shotgun of all things that had been behind the curtain, raised the gun to her shoulder and with one swift movement she aimed and fired it!

The noise was terrific. Birds that had been on the lawn and swimming peacefully on the lake, rose as one and I also noticed several deer take off like rockets.

‘Blast, missed the bugger!’

She put the gun back behind the curtain, closed the window and then came back over to the table. Sitting down, she took a sip of her tea, as if nothing out of the ordinary had actually happened.

‘Erm, Auntie?’

She looked at me and raised one eyebrow.

‘Yes child?’

‘You shot something?’

‘Yes, but it lowered its damn’ head at the last second. Moles yer know; can’t stand the damn’ things. Tried everythin’ nothin’ seems ter work, so I got the Purdey out of mothballs. I’m getting’ closer; I swear that I nearly creased his fur. Never mind that, did yer sleep well?’

‘Erm yes thanks.’ I replied, wondering if there was any insanity in her family; all that in-breading can do funny things…

‘Good; lots ter do terday. I’ll show yer round the place, introduce yer to some people. Can yer sing?’

‘No, I could crack mirrors with my off key singing.’

‘Pity, the vicar is always after choristers. Never mind.’

‘About the clothes shopping after Boxing Day, there’s plenty in the closet.’

‘You’ll learn that girls never have enough clothes. Anyway, I want yer ter chose some yerself. Its good practice and we have a few other things ter do in town. Yer have an appointment with a trick cyclists…’

‘Trick what?’

‘You know, head doctor. She’ll ask yer some damn’ fool questions like do yer think that yer a tea pot and how do yer feel and then she’ll tell yer what we already know, that yer a girl and then we can tick that box off. The sooner the world recognises yer gender the better. Now, let’s go inter the library, we need ter talk.’

I followed her out and as soon as we left, a whole bevy of people went into the room and started cleaning up. I wondered how many staff she had; it seemed like hundreds, but I could be exaggerating.

We went across the hallway and into another room with hundreds of books that lined nearly all the walls. There was a cheerful log fire in the inglenook fireplace and it all looked very snug and cheerful.

Let’s sit here, shall we?’

It was a long deep leather sofa that I literally sank into.

I turned towards Auntie. She looked a bit thoughtful as she looked at me.

‘Have I done anything wrong?’ I asked.

‘Heavens child, no.’

She was silent again and stared at the fire for a few moments and then once again looked at me in a strange way.

‘Sarah; we need to talk about things that might be upsettin’; I hope not, but be prepared. When I first saw yer and yer explained ter me about yer history, it struck me that there was somethin’ about yer.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Let me explain…no let me ask yer a few questions. What was yer mothers’ maiden name, do yer know?’

‘Erm, Fairbairn…hey that the same as yours, that’s a funny coincidence…’

‘And your mothers’ first name was?’

‘Roberta,’

She looked at me for a second and I wondered where all this was going.

‘Sarah,’ she asked as she picked up something from side table, ‘do you recognise the girl in this photo?’

I took the picture in its ornate frame and looked at it. It was quite old and there was a younger Lady Fairbairn in it, looking quite pretty; also there was a boy and girl, they looked like they were in their late teens. The boy I didn’t recognise but the girl…there was something about the girl…

‘That’s strange, the girl looks a bit like my mum…’

‘Go over to that mirror and take the photo.’

Puzzled, I did as I was told and I looked at me reflection then down at the photo.

‘Ooh she looks like me…’

My voice trailed off, as I kept looking between the picture and my reflection.

Auntie came up beside me and put her arms around my shoulders.

‘That,’ she said, ‘was my daughter and son, her name was Lady Roberta Fairbairn. You, my dear Sarah, unless I am very much mistaken, are my granddaughter.’

To Be Continued…

The Cove By Liz Wright

~o~O~o~

To all my long suffering and patient readers, I would like to wish you a very Happy Christmas and a wonderful New Year.

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

Changes~Sarah's Story~Chapter 5

Author:

Susan Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Novel Chapter

Genre:

Transgender

TG Themes:

Sweet / Sentimental

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Sarah 5

‘Pardon?’

‘I believe that you are my Granddaughter.’

‘I can’t be.’

‘Why?’

‘Because…because, things like that only happen in books.’

Changes~Sarah's Story

A Penmarris Story
Chapter 5

Previously…

‘Sarah,’ she asked as she picked up something from side table, ‘do you recognise the girl in this photo?’

‘That’s strange, the girl looks a bit like my mum…’

‘Go over to that mirror and take the photo.’

Puzzled, I did as I was told and I looked at me reflection then down at the photo.

‘Ooh she looks like me…’

My voice trailed off, as I kept looking between the picture and my reflection.

Auntie came up beside me and put her arms around my shoulders.

‘That,’ she said, ‘was my daughter and son, her name was Lady Roberta Fairbairn. You, my dear Sarah, unless I am very much mistaken, are my granddaughter.’

And now the story continues…

‘Pardon?’

‘I believe that you are my Granddaughter.’

‘I can’t be.’

‘Why?’

‘Because…because, things like that only happen in books.’

‘Not convinced?’

She went over to where she had been sitting and picked up something from a side table and then brought it back to me.

‘Look at this photo.’

I put the other photo on my lap and she handed the new one to me. It was a black and white and slightly browned photo of a man in uniform, an officer, I think and a young, very pretty girl.

‘Who’s this?’ I asked.

‘That is me when I was slightly younger with Tremaine. He was my fiancé when this picture was taken. We were married shortly after. Look at the two photographs.’

I did as she asked. It took a while but then I got it.

‘You look very similar…’ I said after staring at the images of Lady F as a youngster and the one with the girl in it.

‘We would, she is…or was my daughter and you Sarah, I am convinced, are my granddaughter. I never knew that she had had a child; we didn’t speak or have any contact after the unpleasantness between us. I was stubborn and I suppose she was too; too much damn’ pride ter admit that either of us was wrong.’

I kept looking at both photos and then up at…her – I didn’t know what to call her. I could see that she had aged a lot, obvious really, but she hadn’t lost her beauty, the beauty that radiated from the picture taken so many years before. Then the other photo; I knew there and then that what Auntie, or rather my grandmother was saying must be true. I was her granddaughter. I had a funny feeling in my tummy; I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Getting up, I went over to the mirror, looked at my reflection and then once again at the one with the young girl in it. The similarities were too close. The girl in the picture looked very much like me.
I turned to Lady F, my mind in turmoil.

Looking at her, I could see that she had tears in her eyes and also she looked uncertain and almost vulnerable, as if I might reject her or say that we weren’t related. I wasn’t normally that observant. It had been me, me, me, for so long, that thinking of others was a novel thing. She was Lady Fairbairn, my mum was, before she married, Roberta Fairbairn. I stared at my reflection, then, yet again, at the photos lying on the table. I picked them up; I was seeing the uncanny likeness of all three of us…

I stopped thinking as my head was beginning to hurt. I just carefully put the precious photos back on the table and without any further thought, went over and hugged her…

~ §~

Even now, I can’t remember what we said for a while. I know that we cried a lot, something I never thought I would see her do; but I did a lot, but eventually we pulled ourselves together and sat on the sofa holding hands. She was so sad that she had lost her daughter and I could see that she was struggling a bit with all the emotion. I didn’t think for a moment that she was usually all that emotional. She was of an era that did not like to show their feelings. But this was something else and she would have been completely heartless if she had not have let herself go a bit when confronted with the fact that she had lost a daughter but gained a granddaughter.

‘Mum did love you,’ I said after a while.

‘How do yer know that Sarah?’

‘She sometimes talked about you and her father, my grandfather, I suppose. She said that you and her were like two peas in a pod, proud and always right; never willing to give in or give way. I think that she regretted not making up with you. But she thought that too much water had gone under the bridge and that it was too late to make up.’

‘It’s never too late and I just wish that things had been different. At least you and I have each other and I hope that your parents are looking down at us and approve of the fact that we have found each other.’

‘Oh yes, Grandmother, it is so unbelievable that we are together.’

‘Well Sarah, enough of this sentimental stuff, let’s get down ter brass tacks’ said Grandmother, ‘this is all wonderful but we need ter sort out the future; your future. I am your closest living relative and as such, I will undertake ter look after yer and there will be no question from the authorities about that. You will grow up here with me and we will sort out your schoolin’ and all that nonsense. That is, if that’s that what yer want?’

I hugged her again and said, ‘oh yes Granny, that will be great,’

‘Good, then that is settled. It makes everything much simpler that you are my lovely granddaughter. We don’t need ter go through hoops to sort out the red tape. I have a couple of tame judges that will assist in making sure that I am legally your guardian…’

‘Will that mean that you will adopt me, Grandma?’

‘Yes, if that is what you wish.’

‘Oh Nanny, that is so much what I want!’

I jumped up and down like a little girl; not cool, but I wasn’t feeling that cool at that moment. Want to make something of it?

‘Sarah.’

‘Yes Nana?’

‘Why do yer keep callin’ me different names; Granny, Nana, and all that nonsense?’

‘I…I don’t know what to call you. Auntie is no good now that you are my grandmother. I know what I would like to call you.’

‘And what is that child?’

‘Erm, well, if you are going to adopt me, you will, in fact be my new mother and Mum was erm Mum and I couldn’t call you that. I want, if I could that is…’

‘Come on girl; spit it out…’

I gulped and looked down, not wanting to see her expression.

‘I…I would love to call you er…erm…Mummy?’

I looked up and I could see the surprised expression on her face. She thought for a moment smiled and then nodded.

‘I would be honoured for you to call me Mummy; anyway, being called Granny would make me feel old and I am not that ancient.’

I wasn’t about to argue with her!

~ §~

It must be a ‘below stairs’ thing, either that or the room had been bugged, as it appeared that everyone knew of my status without me or Mummy (I loved saying that!) saying a thing.

Mummy had told me to run off and have a look around the place while she made some important phone calls – about me, I supposed. Nowhere was evidently off limits except the wine cellar…I wondered why?

Anyway, I went off and did start looking around and all the servants, workers and hangers on greeted me warmly and called me ‘Miss Sarah’. It was strange; I had never been treated so, what do you call it…differentially; as if I was someone important. That was daft; I was just Sarah, but then I was told by a strict looking old bird, who appeared to have been my Mums’ Nanny and then Governess and had stayed on for some reason, that I was in fact Lady Sarah!

‘Blimey,’ I said.

‘Young Ladies do not blaspheme,’ she said with arched eyebrows that looked very like Lady Fairbairn aka my new Mummy.

‘Sorry,’ I said as I proceeded to get as far away from her as possible. When I was away from her piercing gaze I stopped in one of the thousands of corridors and leant up against a wall. I couldn’t believe it. I was a Lady!

‘Cor blimey, God love a duck!’ I breathed, ‘me one of the nobs or is that knobs?’

All this meant that Mum had been a Lady too. Why hadn’t she ever told me; was she ashamed or did she just want to forget her past?

I shook my head and just carried on walking, trying to come to terms with my new status and taking everything in; should I wear a tiara or something?

The place seemed even huger (if that’s the word) inside than what I had seen outside – very TARDIS like. There were what seemed like hundreds of rooms of all shapes and sizes. Some were bedrooms, others were bathrooms. Then there were sitting rooms, libraries, studies and there were a few huge rooms that looked like dance rooms or banqueting halls.

At one point, Jenkins the butler crept up behind me, nearly giving me a heart attack and coughed in my ear.

‘Your mother requests that you join her for tea in the breakfast room in thirty minutes.’

‘Oh, erm, okay…erm, how do I get there Mister Jenkins?’

‘Just Jenkins Miss, if you please. If you would like to follow me, I will guide you to your room, where you might want to freshen up and then I will send one of the maids to show you the way.’

‘That would be great!’ I said enthusiastically, kissing his cheek sort of spontaneously.

It was as if I had slapped him or called him something nasty. He went pale and I think that he almost tottered. But butlers were made of strong stuff and he immediately recovered.

‘Miss Sarah, please do not do that again. It is not a right and correct thing to do. Now please follow me.

I did as he asked, saying nothing. I had obviously crossed the line, but secretly, I didn’t care as I felt and believed that he was a bit of a sweetie and showing a wee bit of affection hurt nobody, did it?

~ §~

When we finally arrived at my bedroom door, Mr Jenkins opened it and I went in saying, ‘thank you,’ as I am a very polite girl.

‘You are welcome Miss,’ he replied as he went off to do some butlering, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Inside was the chirpy maid, Maisie.

‘Hello Miss, I’ve just been tidying up. I think that Milady wants to see you shortly.’

‘Yes, I have to go to the breakfast room in…’ I looked at the clock on the wall, ‘cripes, ten minutes!’

‘Will you change Miss?’

‘Have I got time; erm should I change?’

‘You might want to slip on a nice blouse and skirt Miss, Milady is a stickler for dressing smart, even when she says casual.’

‘Have I got many skirts and blouses?’ I asked and then giggling like a little kid, I answered myself, ‘of course I have.’

I went into the dressing room and then I had the age old problem that girls have always had.

‘What shall I wear then? You know her better than me. I don’t want to look silly or overdo it.’

‘How about this Miss?’ asked Maisie, pulling a blouse off a hanger.

It wasn’t fancy. Something a girl might want to wear to go to a restaurant which was slightly more upmarket than Maccy D’s. It was plain, cream coloured, made from a soft material that was nice to touch…quite silky. It had a crew neck design with short sleeves and a short zip at the back. The label said that it was made by Tommy Hilfiger whoever he was. Then Maisie pulled a skirt off a hanger. It was a black, A line skirt with soft pleats. The label said ‘next’ and it went well with the blouse, as far as I was concerned, but I was no expert - yet. Maisie seemed to think that the combination was okay and so I went with her suggestions.

I had little time, so I just went into the bathroom and quickly changed. The underwear I didn’t bother to change as they all seemed to go with what I was wearing and anyway, I didn’t have time to faff about. I had visions that Mummy would make me lift the hem of the skirt to see if I had clean knickers on – nah, she wasn't that sort of person. Toffs and nobs don’t do that sort thing, do they?

For some reason I had forgotten to brush my teeth that morning and I rectified the matter without delay. I opened my toilet bag and there, on the top, was a strip of the birth control, or girly pills as I liked to call them that I had, up to recently, been taking.

I blinked a couple of times. It was so tempting to just pop one and continue transforming my body into what I hoped was a more girly form, even though I knew that they might do me some harm. Then I remembered what I had been told by the doctor and the promises I had made to Mummy. I would just have to start trusting people. Sighing, I just put them into the little waste bin and carried on cleaning my teeth.

After restoring my fresh breath confidence, as they say in the adverts, I got my skates on. Not literally; mind you, that was an idea for getting around the place more quickly…

Time was short; I would have to stop Dolly Daydreaming!

In a few moments I had changed, brushed my hair, refreshed my lippy and I was ready to go. Coming out of the bathroom, Maisie took one look at me and smiled.

‘You are so pretty Miss.’ she said.

‘Get out of here,’ I replied as my face went red. I wasn’t used to compliments.

~ §~

Mummy was in the breakfast room, sitting by a window, looking out onto the lawn. She was on the phone.

‘Vicar, I don’t care if St Jude does it, they are Methodist and as such can’t be trusted ter hold a decent service without that happy clappy stuff. I will not countenance the use of tambourines and guitars in church. She looked up at me and waved at me.

‘Yes, we shall speak further on the matter. Good day.’

She aggressively stabbed a finger at the phone, threw it down on the sofa and then looked at me as I came up to her.

‘Ah Sarah, you look nice, I hope that the clothes in your dressing room are to your satisfaction?’

‘Yes Mummy, they are wonderful.’

‘Well, we will have ter get you some more. A girl needs ter chose her own clothes. But that will be fer another day. Now come and sit down we need ter discuss a few things.’

‘Shall I pour?’ I asked, spying the tea pot and rather scrumptious looking scones and cream.

She smiled and nodded her head. I was just about to tip some milk into the cups…

‘STOP!’

Jumping slightly, milk jug in hand, I looked up.

‘Tea first and then milk.’

‘Oh,’ I replied, ‘sorry Mummy.’

I always thought that it was milk first and then tea. Perhaps we nob like persons do it differently. So much to learn and so little time to erm, learn it…

After handing her a cup of tea and offering her a plate with a scone, like what I thought a good and dutiful daughter would do, I sat down opposite her, carefully smoothing my skirt under me, and proceeded to demolish my scone. I don’t think that she was that pleased that my scone vanished quite as quickly, but she couldn’t say much as she wasn't far behind me in that particular race.

Once we had cleared the table of scones and had our second cup of tea, she was ready to talk.

‘Now Sarah, I have spoken to certain people and can confirm that, as I thought, there should not be any problems about you stayin’ with me and then, once the bumf has been sorted out regardin’ becoming my adopted child, I’ll get a judge ter sign on the dotted line in the New Year. Social Services wanted ter stick their damn’ oars in, but I had a few words with a chum in Whitehall who just happens ter be the Home Secretary and then the SS were more, shall we say, amenable. What do yer think about that?’

‘Oh Mummy, that will be great!’ I jumped up and down on my chair like a little kid. I would have to learn to be a bit more cool…

She smiled.

‘Yer will have ter see the quacks soon and they will sort out yer pills and whatnot. Even though it’s Christmas, we should have the results of the tests that yer had soon too, so that they will know how ter treat yer, but I don’t want yer ter worry about that now. It’s Christmastime and I want yer ter enjoy yerself. A few people will be comin’ over on Christmas day, includin’ some kids of your own age.’

‘How many people?’ I asked.

‘Only about fifty or so.’

‘Blimey!’

‘Well brought up gels do not say blimey, damn it!’

‘Sorry Mummy.’

Fifi looked up from licking her whatsits and gave me a look that was full of sympathy; I just smiled at her and she went back to her business with a sigh.

‘Now,’ said Mummy looking out of the window, ‘seems like it’s nice outside. What say we go for a little walkies in the gardens?’

Fifi’s head snapped up expectantly. She was all for the idea.

‘That would be nice,’ I replied, ‘but I’m not wearing outdoor type clothes.’

‘Then go and change you silly girl! We’ll meet at the front door in ten – no fifteen minutes.’

I got up and looked down at her.

‘Mummy, you are awful, but I like you!’

I giggled and ran out of the room before I got my ears chewed off.

~ §~

I was getting to know my way around a bit now and I only got lost once. Soon I found the way to my bedroom, quickly stripped down to my panties and training bra and then found some boot cut jeans, a girly type t-shirt in tasteful shocking pink and a chunky white jumper. In seconds I had changed, sorted out my messed up hair, repaired my face, picked up a parka type coat and knee high boots and then I trotted downstairs. I hadn’t had time to sort out the mess that I had left in my room but I would do that later. I wasn't the tidiest person around, but hey, that was one of my endearing qualities!

It was so nice to be able to dress and be the girl that I had always known that I was, if you know what I mean. I didn’t feel the least like a boy and I don’t think that I ever did. I loved the fact that everyone accepted me for who and what I was. I was kind of sure that all the people who lived and worked in the mansion knew about me by now. I don’t think that Mummy would say much, but in a place like this, there are unlikely to be many secrets and I wouldn’t be surprised if walls had ears!

Mummy was waiting for me at the front door. She was wearing a fur coat with a matching hat that wouldn’t look out of place in Siberia. Fifi was there looking alert and ready for the walkies!

‘There you are child, what took yer so long? Let’s get goin’ then.’

I followed her out and then started walking along a gravel path that led to the lake and the fountain which was spectacular to say the least. The jets of water looked like they shot up at least a hundred metres in the air. Luckily the wind was going away from us, or we would have been seriously sprayed with water.

Fifi went off and sniffing at things and watering the grass and not a few statues with her erm, scent.

Mummy pointed out the various things that made up the extensive, well kept gardens. There was a walled garden, maze, bridges over the river that meandered through the park and some ornamental gardens and so much more. It was all a bit overpowering and I had to pinch myself that I was actually living there and could walk about without buying a ticket.

‘Capability Brown designed most of it, especially the formal gardens; it’s about a hundred acres. Damn’ moles seemed to steer clear of this part I’m glad ter say; in the rest of the parkland though, we can’t get rid of ‘em. Enough of that; anyway, we only have about a thousand acres of parkland and the rest, about five thousand or so, are rented out ter tenant farmers. Good income that keeps the coffers pretty full.’

We walked on past some stables with horses.

‘Oh Mummy, can I learn to ride?’

‘Can’t ride? All gels should ride. Had me first pony when I was nine, fell off the dam’ thing five times but soon got the hang of it. Yes we’ll pick out a quiet little thing for yer. Vicar’s daughters will teach yer, horse mad they are. You’ll meet them Christmas Day. Now it’s getting’ cold, let’s head back. I need a scotch on the rocks.’

‘Not tea Mummy?’

‘Don’t be silly, child.’

We went back a different way and soon found ourselves next to the lawn, close to the house, where the moles seemed to have had a field day.

Mummy was looking over to the other side of the lawn and then suddenly stiffened.

‘Bugger me with a pitchfork; those damn’ moles!’

I looked over to where she was looking and I could see a few mounds of earth being pushed up through the grass.

‘JENKINS. GET THE LANDROVER OUT!’

I think that her below could be heard in the next county. In the distance, birds flew off in all directions. Sheep, peacefully grazing in a field, looked up and then carried on; well they are bit thick! Deer on the edge of the woods scattered as if their very lives depended on it. The moles just ignored her; perhaps they were immune to her bellowing or maybe a bit deaf? I didn’t know but what I did know was that I had ringing in my ears for hours afterwards.

Jenkins appeared, as if by magic, in an open jeep and pulled up beside us. In the back was a sort of platform rather than seats and a grab rail that went over the top.

‘In the back young Sarah.’

I jumped in and then unbelievably, the spry Lady F, my brand spanking new Mummy, leapt up beside me, belying her age and probable wonky joints.

‘Hang on,’ she shouted as we suddenly moved off across the lawn towards the mounds of earth two hundred metres away.

Mummy was a strange sight in her fur coat and hat. She had pulled off a shotgun from a bracket down beside her and she was cocking it in what looked like an expert way. Where was the titled lady with whom butter wouldn’t melt in the mouth? It looked like she had some sort of blood lust and I worried for the health and safety of the poor little moles that were only doing what came natural to them.

As I held on for dear life, Mummy’s expensive looking fur hat flew off as we erm, flew across the lawn. Any four and two legged wildlife that had been around had now scattered to the four winds and it seemed to me that it was just us, careering along and the mole, who appeared to be deaf dumb and blind and unaware of the cataclysmic and ultimately fatal experience that it was just about to experience.

The lawn had holes in it everywhere and Jenkins with the expertise of a rally driver, managed to avoid them. The trouble with that was, we were flung from the left to the right several times before we got anywhere close to the blasted hole where the mole was still digging its way out of, oblivious to the danger coming ever closer.

Suddenly, when we were about twenty meters from the hole, a little furry head popped out of it and I could clearly see its lickle, ickle pink paws. Mummy put the gun to her shoulder and fired off both barrels, despite the fact that we must have been doing thirty miles an hour.

The little mole’s head vanished and I was fearful that she had actually hit the poor thing, but I couldn’t see any sign of blood and I was hopeful that he or she would live to dig another day.

‘Damn’ and blast, missed the bugger!’ shouted Mummy who then bashed poor Jenkins on the head; an obvious sign for him to turn and head back to the house, which we proceeded to do at a much gentler pace. Mummy was inspecting the gun and looking a bit miffed.

‘I need ter get the sights looked at. I swear that I had the little bugger.’

~ §~

We pulled up in front of the mansion in a shower of gravel. Mummy got out of the Land Rover with me closely behind, feeling a bit shaky and fragile. Fifi appeared at my side but didn’t seem all that concerned that World War Three had just been enacted.

‘You alright Sarah, look a bit pale there. Hope that yer not coming down with the Lurgy or somethin’ Jenkins, get young Spratt ter go and find me hat will yer?’

‘Yes Milady,’ said the imperturbable butler.

‘Sarah, I’m goin ter change, I’ll see yer at dinner!’

With that, she strode into the mansion barking out orders to people unseen, Fifi following dutifully behind her.

Mr Jenkins switched off the engine and suddenly it was quiet again. He got out of the car and came up to me.

‘Are you all right Miss?’ he asked with concern.

‘Erm, is she always like this?’

‘Like what Miss?’

Um, erm, eccentric?’

‘Oh yes Miss; this is one of her quieter days.’

I sighed, not knowing what I was gettin’…I mean getting into.

‘Don’t worry Miss, She is not quite as she seems. You will learn that some of it is show and some of it is real. She has a reputation for eccentricity and she likes to keep everyone on their toes. If I might take the liberty of saying, you will learn what is real and what is not from your interactions with her. I have been with the family all my life as had my father and grandfather before me and I can assure you that she is an exceptionally good person and has a very caring nature.’

‘Not with moles she hasn’t; that poor mole, I hope that she didn’t kill it!’

He smiled.

‘Between you and me miss, she has never managed to shoot and kill a mole.’

‘Pardon me?’

‘I erm, supply the bullets and they are blanks.’

‘And you never told her?’

‘I don’t think that is wise, do you Miss?’

‘Probably not.’

The butler got back into the car and started the engine. He looked over at me.

‘I would appreciate it if our conversation goes no further Miss.’

I used my finger to zip my lips and he smiled gratefully and drove off.

I looked over to the other side of the pockmarked lawn and I swear that I saw a little head pop up from one of the mounds of earth; but that could have been my imagination.

To Be Continued…

The Cove By Liz Wright

~o~O~o~

I apologise for the delay in posting. Real life once again, has got in the way!

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue