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Chapter 10

We arranged a date for the signing on a day the banks would be open. Then we left again, while Geraldine took a very confused Judy by the hand to lead her into the inner sanctum, to meet, I expect two women that she had never spoken to before.

By the time of the signing, we had all moved south, Bernice terminating their rent and me putting the house on the market. The girls had started at the new school and were loving the place. Ben and Bernice had settled into the annex, with Ben now commuting into London to set up the office. Judy had joined us, living in the other section of the annex. It took her some time before she was comfortable with us, a bit like a cat getting used to strangers.

Annette had also joined us, using one of the bedrooms and becoming part of an extended family. It was strange, having our own cosmetician and hairdresser at our beck and call. I think Annette liked being with us as the fifteen-minute trip meant that Bobby was an almost constant visitor. We knew that there would be a lot to do once we were off and running, so were happy at the chance for a quieter time.

On the day of the signing, we had two hire cars drive us into the city. The signing didn’t take long, and Charles took us down to the bank where the account had been set up. The manager fawned over us as our fee was deposited. We opened accounts in the same bank, one each for me, Carol, and each of the girls. Ben opened one for them, and Charles was given our account details to pay our modelling fees into. It was all very sophisticated and genteel, but I was a quivering mass of jelly on the inside. This was it, the point at which we became somebody different, and in the public gaze.

The thing was that I wasn’t comfortably N.U.M.B. anymore, and I hadn’t felt so alive as I felt when we left the bank, to get into the cars to go to our future.

It was day one of Goodfellows, and it brought reality back into our lives. We now had the means to equip the office properly, leaving the back rooms for when we had actual clients and models. Our contract with Geraldine didn’t say we had to be exclusive, just that we would supply models, as required.

Ben and Bernice did the city office, while I worked on the home office, getting the best equipment for our needs. With the two shoots we had done, I wasn’t expecting to be called to model any time soon, so was surprised when Geraldine called me to tell me to come to town with Ben the next day, and to make sure I dressed well. Carol was taking the girls to school, so it didn’t matter that I got up early, showered, dressed, and made up to join Ben in his drive to the train station.

The trip to the city was odd, as it was the first time I had been in a train for years. Most of the carriage was men, but the few girls that were there gave me a smile. Most of the men gazed at my chest or legs. It allowed me to examine them in a way I could never have done before. I could see different types. Working on rigs, or on sites, nearly all the men were big, often with beer bellies, and generally unshaven. Here, the city types came in all sizes and shapes, but the percentage of clean-shaven ones outnumbered those with neat beards.

From the station, we took the tube. I knew that millions of people went to work like this, but it had never been my way. I suppose that looking out of a chopper to see a postage stamp platform on the edge of a rig above huge waves wouldn’t appeal to these guys either. We went into our office and said hello to the receptionist, sent by an agency, and I looked at the framed pictures on the wall. Some were from a magazine that hadn’t hit the shops yet.

Then it struck me. Today was the day of the September issue. Today was ‘The Day’ that we were catapulted into open view. Of course! Geraldine would have set something up to celebrate, with me as the face of the product, I had to be here. All of a sudden, I had the need to pee, so made a beeline for the toilets. I sat there, my life-force draining away, and wondered just what I had got myself into.

Someone else came in and I heard Susans’ voice call.

“Are you in here, Jenny?”

“Yes, Susan, I’m sitting here as my courage is leaving me. I’ll only be a minute.”

“I know what you’re feeling. I was the same this morning. This a huge thing for me. I was always happy to be the ghost in the wings, just reaching out to shift things to my way of thinking. Today is just a celebration for the office staff next door, and then I am going to my own office to celebrate with them. That will be a shock to many there, as I believe that many consider me a myth.”

I dried and made sure I was tucked as I pulled my panties up. I was wearing stockings today, as I had come to believe that they were an essential part of dressing well. At the mirror, I washed my hands and looked at my reflection and my courage returned.

“What did you do to get your courage back?” I asked.

“I’ve always found that a stiff drink and a couple of painkillers do the trick. I realised today, that I’ve let my body and my pain rule my life. Today is the day we all come out fighting. Geraldine had boxes of magazines delivered yesterday, but she’s waiting for you to open the first box, seeing that you’re the star.”

She hooked her arm in mine, as a physical crutch for her and a mental one for me. As we left my office, she commented that the sparse look may become the new normal. I told her that it won’t look like this in six months.

“I hear that you were in the foyer when Miss Hissyfit went ballistic?”

“Yes, it was interesting to see. She said that she had come to renegotiate her contract. I thought she had been offered more in America.”

“She hadn’t thought it through. When she arrived in New York, they put her back on a plane to London. Even though half the country is snorting coke, and the other half high on meth, they don’t like someone coming along with an undeclared record, and insisting that they’re famous. It’s a lesson that too few young ones seem to consider - that your sins, like tattoos, will be with you until you die. Mind you, employing Judy out of it was a real plus for everyone. I had admired her work in the short time she has been in the business.”

“Yes, with her and Annette around, we have no excuse for being untidy. I’ve been thinking of getting a high roof van and fitting it out as a mobile beauty salon. That way, we could take it to outside shoots and be self-sufficient.”

“If you do that, I’ll use them on all my open-air shoots. Work out an all-up cost, per day, and we can talk about it.”

We went into Geraldine’s office and were welcomed into the throng of people standing around with drinks in their hands. It was quite a crowd. Janet, Gerald, and their children were there, along with all of the girls from the site. Suzi saw me and came to give me a hug.

“Oh! Jenny, I couldn’t believe it when Janet told us to dress nicely and be prepared to come to London. We left the site in a bus at around six, but this is truly wonderful. I’ve been told that we have a picture in Vogue, we’re all amazed. “

“Exactly, Suzi,” Geraldine said, from behind me. “And now we have the guest of honour, I shall call this party to order.”

She called for everyone to gather round and led me to a table where two boxes sat, untouched. She then raised a glass and called out.

“This is our first toast of the day, and it’s reserved for the one person who has been the catalyst within all of the events that has brought us here. To Jenny Goodfellow!”

I must have gone all shades of beetroot, as Geraldine smiled and handed me a box cutter to open the two boxes. I carefully split the tops of the boxes, making sure I didn’t slice the top magazine, then sliced at the edges, so that I could open the first box. Inside was the latest issue of Vogue. Staring me in the face was me on the front cover, from the Pierre shoot. All of a sudden, I felt dizzy, and needed to sit down.

Suzi was beside me and had some smelling salts, and then put a glass of water in my hand. When I could get my breath, all I could say was that I never expected this. It wasn’t something that was spoken about when we saw the proofs. Everyone grabbed copies to have a look, and the room went silent for seconds as the import of our column inches hit home. Then the party went into overdrive. I asked Geraldine’s receptionist if she could pop next door and bring Ben and our office girl back to be part of the celebration.

Except for the cover, I had already seen the rest, so I sat with my water and just watched the others. Janet and Gerald were soaking up the atmosphere, and wondering how this may impact their business. As I sat, two of the working girls came up to me and asked how they could become models, so I dug out a couple of our business cards and told them to ring so that I could set up a test shoot.

When I saw Ben come in, I gave him time to look at the magazine, and then asked him to look into hiring a photographer and lighting man, pointing out Pierre.

“He’ll be able to tell you where to go, as he took the cover shot.”

An hour later, the room had nearly cleared, Ben had gone back to our office with Bobby, who would be able to tell him what we needed now that he was to be our house photographer with Geraldine’s blessing. I had hardly moved from my seat, as everyone had come to pay their respects. At times it felt like I was on a throne, and these were my subjects. I realised how this could go to your head, and why Miss Gimmee had been seduced by it all.

I roused myself, stood and then went to speak to those still around. I gave Pierre a kiss on the cheek and thanked him. He was surprised and told me that he was just the one to capture that moment in time, and that having a cover under his belt will be all the thanks he needed. I understood that, as there are only a dozen chances a year to make it.

Before he left, Gerald asked me if I would consider putting my car into a classic car show, so I told him to send me the details and I would see if Bernice would let me. Then I was hugged by him, his family, and the girls from the site, and it was just Susan, Horace, Geraldine, and me. Geraldine gave me a hug.

“Now the work really begins when we build on what has happened. I need to think about my products, and I want to introduce a lower cost teen and pre-teen line. It’ll be a busy time as we get towards Christmas.”

Susan asked me if I would go to her office, so I joined her and Horace in the back of his Roller as we were driven to her office, attached to her factory / warehouse. When we got out of the car, she grabbed my arm and we walked into her office, to an audible gasp from the gathered crowd. They were all sitting around, with the magazines already open, so seeing the cover walk in with their boss must have been a bit of a shock.

This time, I was ready for the ones who wanted to talk to me, get selfies, or just listen to various conversations. I tried to be warm and inclusive, walking up to the shy ones and asking them what they did. In the end, I was being accepted as one of them. I pointed out, that as I had modelled their product, I was one of them and that they would see more of me, in the future.

A few asked me about our girls, so I told them that I had heard that a pre-teen range was being considered, to match a similar push with the cosmetics. All of the models from the shoot were there, and one asked me what agency I was with. I pulled out a business card and told her that we had opened our own agency. Before long, every model had taken a card and had promised to send a portfolio. I was starting to see what I had been told - that a Vogue model, especially a cover, running the agency, would be like pulling out a model magnet.

Around lunchtime, we were back in the Roller and heading to a restaurant, for another surprise. When we walked in, Carol came over to hug me, followed by Bernice, Annette, and Judy. We had a big table, and it was already littered with the magazine. It was an expensive place, but I could see the other customers taking in the fact that the cover of Vogue had just entered the room. Although I had got used to being stared at by the others in the industry, being stared at by total strangers was a little freaky.

We had a lovely meal, with much laughter and a little drinking. When I went to the ladies’, several other women decided that their bladders need emptying, so I had some discussions with the upper crust, while reworking my lipstick. When I didn’t tell them to leave me alone, it was like an invitation to be friends. I ended up having lovely conversations with well-heeled folks at other tables, making sure that Carol was beside me and pointing her out in the magazine.

We had to tell everyone that we had to pick up the children from school, and I thanked Hector for the surprise and the lunch. Carol had one of our Jaguars, and we went off to get to the school in time to pick up the girls. Bernice and the other two were asked to stay behind and Susan gave me a smile as she told them that I had launched an idea this morning that we had to move quickly on. They had the other Jaguar to get home in, later.

At the school, one of the teachers was waiting at the car park, saw us, and then asked if we could see the Headmistress. That became a discussion about speaking at the end of term assembly and giving out the awards. It was followed by asking me to judge at a fashion show next year. I gave her the business card and told her to set it all up with Bernice. Then she asked me if my hairdresser and beautician could find the time to run courses for the girls in the High School. I told her that if the courses ran after hours, they would be able to do them in their own time. During school days, however, they would need to be co-ordinated with our workload, so would need Bernice involved.

Our girls were in the center of a large group when we saw them, and we were mobbed. Obviously, some of the girls had been given a copy of the magazine at one of the breaks, seeing that a couple of their schoolfriends were in several pictures. Our girls were very savvy, calling me Aunt Jenny, but it was mayhem for a while before we could get into the car so that Carol could drive us home.

It had been a very tiring day, and we all had long showers before dressing casually for dinner. Being in a house mainly full of normal women, we had not employed a cook or a cleaner. It was a big place, but we cleaned a section a day, and shared the cooking. Carol had been into the town, in the morning, and had bought some steaks, but none of us felt that hungry after the big lunch. We only needed to make sure our girls were filled before bed.

Bobby joined us and we all sat in the big lounge that evening and made lists. Ben had a list of things we would need to do to turn one of the rooms in the office into a studio with an adjoining room into a make-up and hairdressing area. We had enough space for clothes storage, and I said I would ask Susan if she had some old stock that she could sell to us.

We discussed the idea of the van, and Ben said he would organise one, if the two girls would tell him what they wanted in it. He had been given a pricing list that Susan had been paying the agencies for her models, so we worked up pricing of our own, a little less, but not too much. Based on that, we added the day rate for the van and both operators.

By the end of September, we had the studio up and running, with Bobby working hard. We had employed a lighting man who also acted as a general hand, and was the driver of the new van, nicely kitted out like a travelling salon with two chairs. The agency receptionist was now full-time. We had signed both girls from the site, and all the models from the shoot. We were getting one or two portfolios a day, and our receptionist had become adept at fielding phone calls.

On the income side, Carol, the girls, and I had received our payments for the shoot, and our daughters had done the initial shoot for the teen line. We could do Geraldine’s work in house, on a weekend, with Bobby proving that he could make even our girls look a few years older. Geraldine had got it wrong. He didn’t worship me; he worshipped any model who would work with him calling the shots. We had sent our models to three shoots for new clients we had signed up with. We worked hard to show that the cover wasn’t a one-off fluke.

The car show that Gerald had wanted me to attend turned out to be a fun weekend, with most of our models draped over a lot of valuable cars and earning money. I was by my Interceptor most of the time, and there must have been thousands of pictures taken of me, or with me. When I looked around the show, I saw a couple of other cars that I liked, with one for sale. It was another Jensen, an FF four-wheel drive, a couple of years later than mine. The asking price was exorbitant, but we did a deal with me swapping my Interceptor, plus a little bit.

Just before Christmas, Bobby popped the question, and a wedding was planned for the New Year. Our Christmas was wonderful. We got a tree brought in and set up and could afford to get a catering company. We invited Geraldine and Astrid. Bobby was almost a resident. Judy had brought her boyfriend, so it was an even dozen that sat down for Christmas lunch. All of our other friends were doing other things. We exchanged gifts, and Geraldine had brought one for the house, considering that this was the closest we had got to having a housewarming. It was the picture of the Burns Day Storm, and I replaced one of the pictures in the dining room with it.

The wedding was right out of a fairytale. What would you expect from the fashion industry. The couple had a short honeymoon and then swapped with Judy, taking over one side of the annex, with her coming into the house. Over the course of that year, we built our agency to the point where it was self-sufficient and the three million wouldn’t be urgent but welcome all the same. We continued to work for Geraldine and Susan, me moving forward with the cosmetics campaign. Carol and the girls did shoots for Susan, but the girls did more than any of us, with their children’s wear and the teen cosmetics.

Six months after we had moved south, we went back north to tidy up our old finances. Our old bank account had received the income from the sale of the house, and we closed all of our accounts, getting it transferred into our London accounts. While there, we stayed in a good hotel, dressed down, and tried to stay off the radar. There was nothing there for us now.

Seven months after we moved south, Carol had another girl. The full campaign with her modelling maternity clothes was given an award. A couple of weeks after that Bernice had a baby boy. It was a wonderful time, made better when Annette had twins, one of each, in the Autumn. We could, by then, afford to build a creche with an apartment on a hard stand behind the house, and employ a qualified nurse to take care of the four babies while we were working.

Our eldest daughter moved to the High School after summer, and both of them were doing very well. They were still popular, and me giving regular talks and fashion tips at various assemblies helped. We had come to an agreement with the school, and Annette and Judy were running evening courses in salon work. A lot of the students would never need to get a job, but from the strata they were born into, knowing how to look after yourself as if you had a professional was a definite plus.

Two years after the signing, we did a fashion shoot for Geraldine and Susan at the school, utilising a lot of the older girls. We paid the school to let us do it, and every girl got a small make-up kit and a dress to keep, as well as standard model rate for the day. It allowed the two companies to cement their teen range in a genuine setting. Carol and I only helped out on the day.

Five years after the signing, I refused to extend my contract, as did Carol. We were both forty, and well past the normal age for modelling. Our youngest was about to start school. We did agree to be available for special events, if needed, but the face of the product was now one of our own models.

Our two girls were well on their way to be internationally known models, as well as excellent students. We were happy to extend their contracts. By now, Carol and I were spending a lot of time with the agency, which was still working out of the office next to Geraldine, but with the studios and working areas now in an industrial building halfway between the house and the city. We had relented, and now had an agency doing the house cleaning, and another doing our catering with a cook coming in. The only meal we now produced, ourselves, was breakfast.

We had pictures on the covers of most of the fashion magazines, often taken by Bobby, and the office wall now had a line of fashion industry awards. We still stayed true to ourselves, not being ostentatious or outrageous. Eight years from the signing, we were awarded a Business Industry award, a year after Geraldine and Susan got one.

We had made it, and we had made it big. At that award night, our table was a glittering group. Most around the table were models, and some were Vogue covers, our Cathy having made it a month prior. Two years after that, she graduated with a degree in Psychology, followed a year later by Kerrie, with hers being in Civil Engineering of all the weirdest things. Our youngest, Juliet, was following in the family tradition and was very bright as well as sporty. She had been added to our agency books and was getting some work in junior sports outfits campaigns. She was the only one of the family not exclusive to Geraldine and Susan.

I never reverted to being just Jen. Everyone close to us knew that I had been male the whole time, and it was as Jensen that my name was on Juliet’s birth certificate. I had become so totally addicted to looking like a woman, and being treated like one, that I wouldn’t give it up. I had never taken hormones, nor had I had enhancements done. After the first year, I was using the best forms that money could buy, and I had a beautician at home who could make them appear totally real.

There was only one thing that I was sorry for. It was that I would never get the experience that a woman gets from having her breasts fondled. I knew that Carol enjoyed it, but mine, no matter how much they cost, or how good they looked, were totally numb.

Marianne Gregory © 2024