Authors Note:
This is a story that I started intending it to be my entry for the BCTS Christmas 2021 Contest. In the end, I decided that it was not ‘Christmassy’ enough so I didn’t submit it.
[07:30 at a riverside house just outside Bridgnorth, Shropshire]
Two vans marked with the names of a Removal & Storage company were sitting outside the house of a client who was moving house that day.
“Ok guys, Pat, Phil and Greg, you get all the items marked as going into storage. The boss was here yesterday working with the client on labelling everything so it should be a doddle.”
Pat, who is a great hulk of an Irishman, looked at me in the way that only he could.
“Doddle? Fat chance Doug. Remember the last time you said that? We ended up getting stuck with a boat to move and no trailer.”
My team of removers all laughed. That was one job that I'd, and probably everyone at the company wanted to forget.
"The boss said that it was going to be a doddle, so who am I to argue eh?"
“What are you going to do? Drink tea all day with the client?” asked Greg.
I shook my head.
"Sorry, Greg. I've got the valuables and breakables that are to be moved to the new place in Much Wenlock to deal with. I have no idea what that entails, as the boss was very circumspect. That gives me no confidence at all. From his words, I could well have drawn the short straw on this move."
None of them said anything but their expressions told me that they didn’t believe a word of it.
"Let's get on with it guys, Villa are playing at home tonight, and I'm taking my kids to the match."
Phil smiled.
“What? Your ex is letting you have them in the middle of the week?”
"Today is their last day at school before Christmas, and this will be it for me until the new year. Her new hubby is taking them to his timeshare in Minorca for the holidays."
“Bummer,” chimed in Greg.
“Yep, Christmas alone… again.”
“Ok, Ms Johansen, what are the items that are going to your new home?”
She smiled at me.
“Melanie, please.”
The alarm bells started ringing in my head right away.
“Ok Melanie. Please call me Nick.”
She smiled.
"Apart from my clothes and the kitchen things, everything is in there," she said, pointing at a door. From my earlier viewing of the house, I guessed that it was the garage.
"Please lead the way," I said, trying to be polite.
She opened the door. Right away, I could see that this was no longer a garage.
I followed her inside, and it was as if I was in a shoe museum. There were hundreds of pairs of shoes. The thought of getting to see my two boys that night suddenly seemed an impossibility.
She saw my disappointment.
“Is there a problem?”
I cursed myself for showing my disappointment in front of the client.
"Sorry, but seeing the amount of work that I have ahead of me, it is highly unlikely that I’m going to be able to take my sons to the football tonight.”
She chuckled.
“That’s almost what your boss said yesterday. I guess that he hasn’t told you about the change of plan?”
I was at a total loss.
“He hasn’t.”
“Here, let me show you the text he sent last night.”
She fiddled with her phone for a few seconds. Then she showed me a message that was from my boss Jerry Thomas.
It said,
“I agree. I’ll tell Nick not to rush the packing and that he can return tomorrow for the loading and move.”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“Give him a call if you doubt me?” said Melanie.
“I’d better do that. As far as I know, I’m with my guys on another job tomorrow in Stafford.”
Five minutes later, I returned from a phone call with my boss. He'd confirmed the text. The team would be doing the job in Stafford but with the boss in charge. I knew that would not go down well with the guys, but I was going to wait until lunchtime to drop that bombshell.
“Ok Melanie. The boss confirms it. We have today and tomorrow to get you moved.”
She smiled back at me. She gave an air of confidence in both herself and her actions, but not an overly domineering one which pleased me. So many women think that they have to dominate any man they come into contact with, just to hammer it home that they are equals. In my opinion, those women have lost or never had any of the charms that their sex was famous for.
"How many pairs of shoes are there, if you don't mind me asking?"
“One Thousand and sixty-three,” replied Melanie in a very matter of fact way.
I looked around. The row after row of shoes were all in their very own spot in the custom-built cabinets.
“Are these cabinets coming too? My job sheet only mentioned the contents.”
Melanie shook her head.
“No. I’ve had some new ones made. If you look at the bottom of these, there is evidence of flood damage.”
I looked, and sure enough, there was a stain about 3ft from the floor.
"The floods that hit us almost two years ago now is the reason I'm moving right now. I can't get insurance for my collection. I had planned on moving about Easter time but having no insurance sealed it."
“Insurance companies, eh? They are only too quick to take our money but so slow to pay us for a claim.”
“Exactly. I received the final part of the claim only two months ago. Now I’m going to live near the top of a hill. At least there, they can’t refuse to give me flood cover.”
‘Sensible woman’ I thought.
"Good. Now, where do you want to start wrapping? I think I have enough boxes in my van."
For a moment, I thought that I'd have to wrap them all myself, but Melanie came to my rescue.
“I wondered about that. Your boss left a huge roll of bubble wrap with me yesterday. I’ll go and get it then we can start.”
“How are you getting on?” I asked when I saw the removal van nearly full of neatly labelled boxes.
“We should be done in an hour then we can get off back to the depot and get it unloaded,” said Phil.
“That’s good. The bad news is that the boss will be running the job in Stafford tomorrow.”
As I’d predicted, there were groans from all of them.
“Why? Where will you be?” asked Pat.
“Finishing up here.”
“How long can it take to pack some shoes?” he asked.
I grinned.
“There are more than one thousand pairs in her collection.”
Their collective mouths dropped open.
“Talk about a shoe fetish…” remarked Greg.
“That seems to be excessive.”
"I don't think it is a fetish. From some of the styles, I think that she is a collector. Some of the boots date back to Victorian times. You know the sort that you see in period dramas on TV."
There was no reply to that, but I could sense that my explanation was not altogether acceptable. It was just ‘too left field’ for them to fully understand.
The guys left Melanie’s home just over an hour later. As they drove off, I wondered why she was putting so much furniture and stuff into storage rather than taking it with her. That would have to wait as there were many, many more shoes waiting to be packed.
Just before 15:00, I said as I looked at the large number of full boxes that were now stacked in her hallway waiting to be loaded into the van.
“I think that there is a full load now. Would it be possible to take them to your new home? Then, we could see just what is left for tomorrow?”
Melanie stopped wrapping some silly height shoes and looked at me for a second.
“Thinking about this evening?”
“Yes. I won’t get to see my children until the new year after tonight. Their new father is taking them to Minorca for Christmas.”
“Then we’d better get this lot loaded then!”
She was growing on me. She was willing to muck in unlike, most other customers. Admittedly, she had an interest in seeing her collection moved properly but even so…
"There is a steep hill before we get into the village. Carry on through, and my home is on the other side just before the first ploughed field."
A few minutes later, I turned into her new home. It wasn’t that remarkable in terms of architecture but seemed quite large.
"I'm renting this place furnished until I can move into my own home," she said as I turned the van so that the back doors were nearest the front door.
Her statement had answered my as yet unasked question about why so much was going into storage.
The furniture in the dining room at the back had been piled up in one corner. Occupying almost the rest of the room were four large wooden racks. Right away, I could see that these had been made by a proper craftsman. The jointing looked to my almost very uneducated eye just about perfect.
“Those are impressive cabinets.”
"Thanks for the compliment. It took me ages to find a furniture maker who was good enough to do it and willing to take the commission. In the end, I used a company that makes bespoke kitchens in Hereford. These were delivered a few days ago. When I move from here, they will fit perfectly into my new home."
"You said that you were renting this place until you found one of your own. They seem awfully solid to me?"
"I did, but they do come apart. That was part of my problem in getting them made in the first place. Most of the people I spoke to about the project just couldn't grasp what I was going about."
"Well… they look that they are worth every penny of the huge pile of cash that they most certainly cost you."
Melanie laughed.
“I’m beginning to like you. Do you know that you have a weird sense of humour?”
I smiled.
“So, I’m told by people who don’t like me very much,” I quipped.
Melanie laughed.
“We’d better get the van unloaded or you won’t get to the match on time!”
She was right.
We both pitched in and it didn’t take long for us to get the van empty.
“That’s it for today,” she pronounced as she shut the doors to my Transit Van.
I dropped her off at the bottom of the Cliff Railway in Bridgnorth. It was about a ten-minute walk from there along the River Severn to her current home. As I drove away, I felt a tinge of sadness for two reasons. Firstly, because I’d enjoyed working with Melanie. She was so unlike any other client that I’d ever met and secondly, after tomorrow, I’d never see her again. That is a fact of life for someone who works in the removals industry.
“Ok boys, here we are,” I said as I parked my car near the stadium that is the home of Aston Villa. Villa Park is and always has been one of the best stadia in the country. Things have been looking up for the team since the arrival of Stevie Gerrard as their manager so taking them to the home fixture against Burnley was my Christmas present to them. There were other presents for them that I’d dropped off with their mother when I arrived to collect my sons Adam aged 12 and Martin aged 10 to go to the match.
The look of disdain on her face told me that she was not happy to see me but there was nothing she could do about it because this was my court-ordered access. She'd been the one to commit adultery and want the divorce but I was destroyed in court because her lover and now her husband had the money for a good lawyer whereas I had virtually no money and very little legal representation. Thankfully, the court denied her claim for maintenance because, on the last day of her evidence, she arrived wearing a large diamond engagement ring. That was her downfall and although she was awarded custody which I wasn't contesting, I won a pyrrhic victory when he awarded her the grand sum of £1.00 per year in maintenance.
When I’d given her the presents for our sons, I wondered if they’d ever see them. I planned to mention their existence at halftime.
What I wasn’t prepared for was an announcement to come over the Public Address requesting me to go to the information centre. We’d only just taken our seats so I was rather confused as to why someone wanted to see me.
“Stay here boys, I’ll be back as soon as I have found out what is wrong.”
“Ok dad,” they replied in unison. Both of them were watching the players warming up right in front of us so I was confident that they’d not wander off.
I found the information centre and gave them my name.
"Ah, Mr Powell. This is your lucky day. Someone has reserved an executive box for you and your sons," said the man in charge.
He handed me a copy of an email. I didn’t know who it was from.
“I know nothing about this or who this email is from. There has to be some mistake?”
“There is no mistake Mr Powell. The owner of the box is the sender of the email.”
“I still don’t understand why?”
The man smiled.
"I understand that a trip to the match tonight is part of your Christmas present to your sons? Someone with some money just like you."
He’d got me there.
“I’d better go and collect my sons.”
The man shook his head.
"They are being collected by one of my staff. Why don't you meet them at the lift just to your right? They will be there in a minute or so. I'm sure that they don't want to miss kick-off?"
“Thanks,” I replied still slightly shocked and puzzled by what was going on.
A steward arrived a couple of minutes later with my sons in tow.
“What’s wrong Dad?” asked Adam.
“There is nothing wrong. We are being treated to an executive box for the match.”
They both looked at each other and smiled.
“Cool!” was all they’d say.
Before we left after the final whistle, I said to both of them,
“I don’t know who organised this but we all owe them a big thank you. You both have the email address of the person whose box this is so if I were you, I’d send them a thank you email tomorrow.”
“We will dad and thanks. This is the best present we could have hoped for.”
Then I took a deep breath.
“When your mother asks about tonight, tell her the truth. Tell her exactly what happened and show her this email. It won’t stop her having a good rant at me but I don’t want you telling lies to your mother, understand?”
“We understand Dad,” they said in unison.
“Good. Now I’d better get you home before she sends out the search parties.”
“Dad?” said Martin as I drove them to their home in Bewdley.
“Do we have to go to Minorca for Christmas?”
“What’s wrong? Why don’t you want to go?”
“It is our step-dad. He hardly knows that we exist. He’s always working.”
I tried not to but I failed miserably and chuckled.
“That’s why your mother and I separated. When I was working as a truck driver, I was never home so I gave that up and became a removal man but it didn’t work.”
“He’s there in body but his mind is always on his next deal.”
"That's no way to talk about your step-father. Your mother clearly loves him and he's in your life for better or worse. I can't be there for you every day. That's not what your mother wants."
“No one ever asks us what we want?” complained Martin.
“In a few years, you can do whatever you want with your lives. Whatever you decide, I’ll be right behind you. When you are of age, I’ll have your back. Until then boys, just go with the flow and try not to make your mother even more angry at me.”
"Thanks, Dad," said Adam.
“You promised that they’d be back by a quarter past and you failed. Can’t you do anything right?”
"Obviously, not," I said as I turned away.
She said something as I got into my car, but I wasn't listening. I'd learned to her tune out when she started ranting some years ago.
She was waiting for me at the front door. Seeing just how beautiful she was, put the incident with my ex-wife the previous night out of my mind, in an instant.
“When she finds the right man, he will be one lucky sod!” I thought to myself as I parked the van.
We packed and loaded the last of her collection of shoes plus some kitchen items into the van. Then and to my surprise, ten large cardboard boxes contained a lot of clothes on hangers.
“If I had known about these, I’d have bought a garment frame with me,” I said as I carried the first of the boxes to the van.
"That's not a problem. They are all packed, and it is only for a few hours. I'll get them hung up while you unload the rest of my things at the new house."
“Ok Melanie, if this is good for you, then I'm happy."
We completed the move with just one load. The Transit was full to bursting, but I was glad that I didn't have to come back to Bridgenorth just for a few things.
Unloading went well, and we were all done just before 2 pm.
“Let me treat you to lunch,” suggested Melanie.
“Your stomach has been rumbling for over an hour…”
That was true. I'd not wanted to get out of bed that morning, and by the time I did, it was too late to get any breakfast.
“Ok, but nothing boozy as I’m driving.”
“That’s fine by me. There is a nice place in Bridgnorth near the top of the Cliff Railway.”
I groaned inside. So much for my hopes of not having to go back there today.
Melanie must have seen my disappointment.
"I'll drive us there. I still have my resident's parking permit."
We talked about all sorts of things then she dropped the bombshell.
"I hope your boys enjoyed the executive box at the match? The person who used the box was away, and they owed me a favour."
I sat stunned for a moment before I could get my thoughts together enough to answer.
“That was your, doing?”
She nodded her head.
"Guilty, I'm afraid."
"Why? We don't know each other, do we? After today, we might never see each other again?"
“You seemed so down when you told me that you were not going to see them until the new year that I thought that the trip to the match should be made that bit more memorable. It didn’t cost me anything other than a phone call. As I said, he owed me a favour and honouring that debt didn’t cost him any money either. That’s a win-win in my books.”
"Well… Thank you for thinking of me, and the boys like that. I know that they enjoyed every minute of it. They should be sending a thank you email to him today."
“That’s good of them. You are clearly trying your best to raise them properly.”
"I do try, but with having limited access to them, then it is not easy."
She drove me back to her new home so that I could collect the van. I needed it for another job the following day. The month of December is probably the busiest part of the year for us. Everyone wants to move before Christmas. January is just about treading water for the company by comparison. I knew that I'd be lucky to get home before 9:00 pm on the 24th. Then all I had to look forward to was Christmas alone in my small flat that was not far from the site of the former Leyland car factory in Longbridge.
“Don’t look so depressed,” said Melanie as we neared her home.
I sighed before answering.
“This is our busiest time of the year. I’m going to be flat out until late on the 24th.”
“Then what?” she asked.
“What are you doing for Christmas?”
Her directness surprised me.
"Nothing much. Sleep a lot, eat too much, and get slightly pissed watching TV shows that were recorded last June complete with fake snow. So, nothing out of the ordinary."
She grinned.
"Then come and spend it with me. I'll have my place organised by then, and I need an excuse to try out my new kitchen."
She saw that I was uncertain.
“Cat got your tongue then?”
“I don’t know what to say,” I mumbled.
"Say yes. It will be fun, and I love dressing up."
Fun? Dressing up? I had all sorts of horrific visions, but in the end, I said,
“Yes. But I’m not the sort of person who dresses up. I wouldn’t know where to start. I look awful even in a made-to-measure suit.”
Melanie just grinned back at me.
[to be continued].
I got away from Melanie's place as fast as I could do without embarrassing either of us.
The wintery sunshine that appeared as the daylight was fading did nothing to help my mood. I'd agreed to spend Christmas day with a woman that I hardly knew, and that woman was going to enjoy dressing me up as god knows what, probably just to post the images of me looking like a fool all over social media.
If there was one thing about the modern world that I hated was Social Media. I’d seen far too many relationships destroyed by the infernal thing when I was a trucker to know that is it anything but social. It had been how my wife’s affair had been bought to my attention by Pat’s then girlfriend.
I had to put those thoughts to one side when my phone beeped. It was a message from my boss, and I needed to call him.
I found somewhere to stop and gave him a call.
"Hello, Jerry. I got your text. What's up?"
"No. The job for Ms Johansen is all done. I'm on my way back to the depot with the van."
“Ok. It is on my way. I’ll pick it up for you and leave it in your office. Is everything ok for tomorrow? We’ll need an early start if we are to get it done in one day.”
I listened to Jerry explain that he was going to lead the team on the next job and that several estimates needed doing in the next few days.
Inwardly, I groaned. I hated estimating how many men and vans were going to be needed for a job. I was just not that good at it, and Jerry knew that very well.
“Why me? You know how bad my last lot of estimates were. You had to do several of the last batch all over again.”
Jerry explained to me his reasoning for the change of plan. For once, I had to agree with him even if I wasn't convinced about the long term implications.
[Christmas Eve]
Thanks to my re-assignment, I was able to finish at a decent time every day. I'd done all my shopping, but there was my looming date with Melanie for the 25th not far from my mind. I’d racked my mind for days about what sort of thing I could give her as a present.
I’d had a bit of a brainstorm two days earlier when I was in somewhere I hate, Merry Hill Shopping Centre. It was manic despite the prevalence of COVID everywhere. Jerry had made sure that all of us were fully vaccinated and even boosted, but even so, after nearly two years of the pandemic, there were thousands of people not wearing a mask. I wasn’t one of them but I still felt exposed.
I was looking for the exit nearest to where I'd parked my car when I spotted something in a shop window. I stopped dead for a few seconds while I racked my brain for the answer to a question. Had I seen one of them at either of her homes? The answer was no.
After taking a deep breath, I went into the shop and bought the item. That was it my Christmas shopping was all done apart, from the purchase of some new underwear for myself. Mine were well past their use-by date, and I'd been putting off buying some new ones for months. Now that I was in a place that sold them there was no excuse.
Armed with my two purchases, I headed for the exit. The blast of hot air from the heaters was replaced by an icy wind. It was going to be a cold night, but I breathed a lot easier now that I was out of the crowds. Then I cursed myself. I had not bought a card for her.
I turned around and looked at the bright lights and shook my head. I was not going back in there even for all the tea in China. She'd have to make do with one from my local supermarket provided that I could get there before they closed for the day.
It was hard buying things for adults after five years of only buying presents for my boys, but that is the spice of life, I guess.
The almost total absence of sounds from the outside world lulled me into a false sense of 'there is plenty of time'. I got quite a shock when I turned over in bed and saw the time on the clock. It read 09:37. I'd slept well past my normal time of waking up.
Therein followed half an hour of sheer panic on my part. The results of that panic included three cuts from shaving, and finding that the shirt that I'd planned on wearing was missing a button, and I could not find one like it to sew back on. Things didn't look very good for me getting to her home in time to at least try to help out with the preparations. That’s the sort of person I am at heart even though that’s not what my ex told the court several times during our divorce case.
In my haste to get ready and leave, I forgot the card that I’d bought the previous morning on my way to work. Thankfully, I’d only travelled a short distance so I turned around and went to fetch it. The day was going swimmingly.
I pulled up in the middle of the village. Melanie's house was just a few hundred yards ahead. I was at the point of no return. After this, the coward in me could not duck and run.
I was no stranger to being put on the spot by a woman. My last serious girlfriend was very much when I was on the rebound from my ex walking out on me. She wanted a husband to molly-coddle, and that was not me. I'll never forget Milly. She was a great person but so very clingy and jealous. If I as much as held a door open for another woman, she would get suspicious of me. It came to a head after her mother, took me to one side. She advised me to 'head for the hills'. That was on the 13th of February.
The coward in me took over, and I simply didn't turn up for our Valentines Day dinner. That's how much of a cowardly bastard I am.
Those memories were uppermost in my mind as I decided if I should go forward or turn around and head for home.
“This will never do,” I said out loud.
I put the car in gear and drove the short distance to Melanie’s temporary home.
“Happy Christmas Nick,” said Melanie as I got out of my car.
“Happy Christmas Melanie," I replied, smiling.
"These are for you," I said, giving her the flowers that I'd bought well before dawn the previous day.
“Thank you, they are lovely,” came her smiling reply.
"I have a present for you. It is in the back of my car. It isn't much, but I didn't see one in the things we moved."
She looked a bit shocked. Then she relaxed.
“I guess using a company like yours to move does expose all my inner secrets…”
I smiled.
"We do try to keep our mouths shut and not tell tales, but sometimes it is hard."
She laughed.
“Get your things and come inside. I’m still getting things ready.”
"That's why I came early. I have two hands that mostly work well in the kitchen."
She turned and went back into the house, laughing. That laugh was killing me.
I had to admit that her take on Christmas Lunch was very good. Not a dry and overcooked turkey in sight. Instead, we had homemade Venison Wellington with all the trimmings.
That was followed by a slice of some truly heavenly homemade velvet cake.
I was about to start clearing things away when Melanie said calmly,
“When did you first realise that you have another side to you?”
Her words stunned me. She didn’t stop there.
“And that side is feminine?”
She had me dead to rights.
I wanted to respond but I just didn’t have the words.
Melanie reached over the table and took my hand.
“You have never told anyone have you?”
Somehow, I managed to say,
“No… I was just too afraid.”
“Afraid that they’d laugh or simply not believe you? That doesn’t matter here. What matters is that in the short time I have known you, those fears have come to the surface again and it is well past time that you dealt with them. Not in a negative way. You have been doing that all your life. Isn’t it time to accept that there are people in this world who won’t laugh at you or run a mile to get away from you?”
The arrows from a thousand archers were hitting my heart. I knew that it wasn’t true but it felt like that.
Here I was sitting in her dining room being told that I was a coward. The thing was that I am a coward. I’ve pushed those thoughts and desires down into the deepest depths of my psyche for almost thirty years. I was five when I knew that I should have been born a girl.
“Are you ready to try for at least a few hours to let the real you out to play?”
"I don't know, but how did you know about me?"
Melanie smiled and squeezed my hand.
"That day when you first saw my collection of shoes. You could not decide if you should stay or get the hell out of town. It was even worse with those containers of dresses. You just didn't want to touch them, did you?"
“I guess that I fell headfirst into your trap then?”
"Not a trap, but there is another person inside you wanting to get out, but the male part of you is just keeping a lid on it."
She was right, of course.
“What do you propose then?”
“What I propose is that we have a bit of fun dressing up just like children all over the world do every day.”
“But?”
“No buts. Isn’t today a time when billions of us celebrate the birth of someone special? Are you not someone special?”
I shook my head.
“I’m not special.”
Melanie smiled back at me.
"I happen to think that you are a very special person. There was something about you that made me invite you here today."
“Not just to make a fool of me and post it on Social Media then?”
“Ouch!” said Melanie.
“I don’t do Social Media other than to advertise things for sale.”
Melanie smiled at me.
“Look at me. What do you see?”
Her change of tack surprised me.
"I see a very attractive, and determined woman. Your complexion is just about perfect if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Anything else?”
"What else is there to say? You seem to have a bit of a shoe collecting fetish. I don't know much about what sort of clothes you like to wear, but I get the impression that you don't shop for them where everyone else does. That good enough?"
Melanie laughed.
“You are a wise person Nick and very observant.”
I smiled back at her.
“I went to Merry Hill to buy you your present. I felt sad at all those women who were literally queueing up to get their fix of Botox for Christmas. You don’t need any of that poison in you. As far as I’m concerned, you are just about perfect.”
Melanie stood up and took my hand.
“Ready to walk on the wild side?”
"Only if you go with me?" I replied, feeling rather uncertain about what the next few hours would bring.
Melanie took me upstairs and into what was a second or third bedroom. She’d hung a lot of clothes from movable racks.
“Are those the clothes that I moved here in those boxes?”
“They are. They are just a small selection of what I have.”
“How much stuff do you have?”
She grinned.
“More than I should, but I excuse myself because I run a retro clothing business. I have a small factory in Dudley and a warehouse near the Airport. I also have producers Manchester and Chennai. They make very good copies of the originals that I buy at markets and even antique shops.”
"I didn't know…" I replied, feeling very inadequate.
"It has taken me years to get where I am today. I started with a Saturday market stall aged sixteen. I bought and sold old clothes intending to fund my university education. That proved so successful that I put going to Uni on hold and grew the business. That's when I met my partner. He said that was looking for an outfit for an Amateur Theatrical production. In a couple of minutes, I knew that was a lie, and it was for himself, or herself. His whole persona, said to me that I am a woman inside just waiting to get out. That's what I saw in you."
“So, you began very much like Alan Sugar then?” I asked, deliberately ignoring the bit about seeing right into my inner core.
"Not really. I'm very much a small operation, but I try to fill a niche and that suits me."
"What are you going to wear?" I asked, hoping to delay the inevitable a bit longer.
Melanie grinned.
“This is one of my favourite outfits,” she said proudly as she pulled an item from one of the racks.
She held it for me to see.
“Very 1930’s. Add some appropriate shoes, a shawl and a cloche style hat, and I'm good to go."
Then she added,
“There is a matching coat that goes with it in one of the boxes that I have not yet unpacked.”
She held the plum-coloured dress up in front of her. I could easily imagine her wearing it to go shopping and stopping people dead in their tracks.
“That… that suits you.”
"Thanks. Now, what about you?"
"I don't know. I never dreamed that it would be like this. There are so many stories on the internet, where the male is humiliated beyond reason before being allowed to put on a stitch of female clothing. They are made to shave everything or get smothered in hair remover."
Melanie reached over and took my hand in hers.
“That must be horrible. That is not what I had in mind. I just want to get you comfortable wearing clothes before even thinking about hair and makeup. Only when all of that is almost second nature would I even think of asking you to go out to dinner with me.”
“Dinner?”
Melanie smiled back at me.
“Look Nick, I like you a lot. If our little game today is fun then we can do it again and again.”
She'd just launched a broadside, and I'd taken a direct hit.
“What’s wrong?” asked Melanie when she noticed my discomfort.
“This is all very sudden. Asking me to Christmas lunch was one thing but…?”
“I’m going too fast for you?”
I nodded.
"Then just choose something to wear, and you can take it home with you. Try it on in private. Look at yourself in the mirror and try to imagine how it could be in the future.”
I think my expression might have told her something.
“You do have a full-length mirror, don’t you?”
Slowly and very reluctantly, I shook my head.
“Then get one. No self-respecting woman goes very long without one.”
I had to admit to myself that while she had an answer for everything, she'd given me an out without even blinking.
“Thanks for that.”
“Thanks for what?”
“Being so understanding.”
“Life is a journey. You are just starting on a new part of that journey if you want to that is?”
“I… I think I do but…”
“Slowly, slowly?”
I nodded.
“Good. Then let me let you choose something to wear while I go downstairs and get you some of the leftovers to take with you. There is far too much for me.”
She was right about the quantity of food that she’d prepared.
“Ok.”
Melanie squeezed my hand.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to embarrass you. Your journey has just begun. Like a baby who is learning to walk, small steps and get used to walking before trying to run.”
Melanie turned and left me alone. She took the plum-coloured dress with her.
I pulled one outfit from the rack and held it up to myself just like she’d done.
I shook my head.
“That will never do,” I muttered.
With each item of clothing that I rejected; my hopes died a little more until…
I picked a white dress with a floral pattern from the rack.
"That's for the summer and not the middle of winter."
I put it back and looked at a few more, but my eye kept going back to that dress.
I closed my eyes and sighed.
I tried to visualise how it would look going out for a picnic in mid-summer.
Something was missing. It just didn't hang right. Hips. My lack of hips.
I moved onto another rack. One dress caught my eye.
As I held it in front of me and looked in the mirror many of the doubts that I'd had went right out of the window.
The green faux-silk 1920’s style dress was perfect. My lack of hips would not matter.
There was even a gold-coloured wrap or scarf to go with it. It might be an old-style, but it just looked so nice.
I hesitated for several minutes before going downstairs. I was having second, third and fourth thoughts about the whole thing. Much of me wanted to do this but there was still part of me saying ‘no, don’t do it, take the easy way out’.
I was still thinking about what to do when I heard a voice.
“Are you ok up there?”
Melanie’s voice broke my indecision.
“Just coming,” I called out.
I went downstairs and got a bit of a shock. Melanie had put on the dress that she’d selected.
“How do I look?” she said as she did a twirl.
“Like a million dollars,” I replied smiling.
She looked so good and so happy.
“I see you have chosen something to wear?”
I held the dress up in front of me.
“That’s a good choice,” said Melanie smiling.
“My choice was rather forced on me by my lack of tits and hips.”
Melanie laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
"Not funny, but it shows that you are starting to think like a woman."
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I replied.
Melanie just smiled at me.
She knew that she had me by the short and curlies...
“Don’t look so worried Nick. I’m not going to eat you alive.”
“It is not that… I’m just a bit scared. Scared of what might happen.”
“Don’t be scared. I know what it is like to have to admit that you have lived a lie for most of your life.”
It took a second for me to grasp what she had said.
“Are you like me then?”
She shook her head.
“Not me but my wife.”
“What? You are married?”
Again, she shook her head.
"Not any more. She died from Sepsis that sprang from a UTI. That was five years ago next Easter but we had six great years together.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Shortly before she died, she told me to find another one like her. I’ve been looking for the last few years but without success. Then, you came to me just as I was moving here.”
I put the dress down carefully over the back of a chair.
The miniature devil that is forever sitting on my shoulder telling me to run was screaming its tiny head off. For once, I decided to ignore its advice and not be a coward when it came to women.
“How long are you going to be renting this place?”
“Why?”
“Please… This is hard for me. How long?”
“Three or four months. My new home is being converted at the moment. Why do you need to know?”
“I think that in three or four months, I may well be ready to move on as well. If you’ll have me that is?”
“Do you mean that?”
"I do. I may come to regret my decision, but at this precise moment, I don’t know where else I’d rather be than with you.”
I didn't wait for an answer. I stepped towards her, and our noses met in the middle. My feeble attempt at kissing her had failed but only temporarily.
We tried again, and this time, we kissed long and hard. This was turning out to be the best Christmas ever. I never did get to take any of the left-overs home with me.
[the end]