Tom's Fireworks   A Tommy & Tamara Story   By Topsy © 2009 Topsy

 
Tom Smart was sat in his room on this Saturday morning. The school's annual fireworks display, due this evening, had been cancelled on grounds of health and safety. In reality the school's governing body had apparently seen the insurance quote for the event and had refused to pay it.

The town of Thurso however had a fireworks display planned for tonight, a few days after the official Guy Fawkes anniversary. It was down to the Headmaster, Mr McIntosh, whether the students were allowed into the town to see the display in Thurso Harbour at seven pm.

Tom's school, St Andrews, had a long noble history and tried to allow students to participate in local civic events. The problem, as ever, was transport. The school was almost ten miles out of town and the school's three minibuses, normally for sports teams, were not suitable for transporting two hundred students, assuming only the top four years attended.

Tom knew of the problem. Having been at the school for seven years he knew how the school operated and which excuses would be used. He was used to disappointment.

The insurance problem had been known about for over a month, the fireworks committee had been stood down quietly and all notices had been taken down. One junior wag had loudly suggested going to the official Round Table organised display on November 5th and was seen coming out of the Head's office with his head down, refusing to speak to anyone. He did not go home that weekend, nor the next, nor the next, even though his family were in Aberdeen.

Tom regularly exchanged emails with one of the shop owners in the town. Because of his sixth form status he was allowed into the town most Saturdays. The school operated an hourly shuttle service each Saturday which gave Tom some freedom. Now eighteen years old, and in his last year at the school, he had fewer restrictions than the younger students.

Tom had told Sarah Bonney of his problem. He wanted to visit the Harbour that evening to see the display but the school didn't look likely to permit it. Their Saturday shuttle service ended at half past five. She suggested he go and see her, but he would be seeing her anyway.

Sarah owned a clothes store in the town and was the only person Tom had ever trusted with his deep secret. She allowed Tom to try on clothes that he wouldn't dare wear in public.

Tom had known for most of his years that he was a girl, only he hadn't been able to express himself. He knew his parents wouldn't understand, not least as his father had sent him to this private school many years earlier.

The boys only school was run on military lines, designed to improve discipline. The idea was that this bred better educated boys. Of course, for some it made them even more frightened than when they were told they would be going to a boarding school in the Highlands, hundreds of miles from home. This did not help their learning.

Tom was sat on his bed, watching the clock tick closer to nine o'clock. In preparation for his visit to the town he had put on his feminine vest and knickers. Sarah had told him he resembled a sixteen year old girl and he should really dress as one. He drew the line however at wearing a bra. Even wearing a sweatshirt over his vest and t-shirt, he was convinced he could see the thin straps in the mirror. He was certain that bra straps would be immediately visible and would expose him to everyone.

At five to nine, Tom pulled on his thick winter coat and shuffled to the school's courtyard where the bus was waiting. There was already a queue but the rank system gave Tom priority over younger students who had waited since breakfast. It had been the same for Tom years earlier.

The ride into town took twenty-five minutes and even the excellent suspension system couldn't iron out all of the bumps and holes in the road. Tom held his hiking bag on his lap. If anyone had asked, he would have answered that he carried water and a torch. Essential equipment. Of course, no-one asked a sixth-former such questions.

The bus stopped on Olrig Street and let the students off before returning to the school. Tom first made for Reids Bakery and collected some pastries. By nine thirty five he was walking further along the high street and then turned down a side street to reach Bonney's Boutique.

Tom opened the shop door carefully. The sign still said 'Closed' but Sarah had unlocked it a few minutes earlier to allow Tom in. His official reason for being there was to help organise stock, but he'd never needed to give that answer as no-one knew he went there.

Tom closed the door behind him and slipped the bolt across quietly before calling Sarah.

"Sarah?"

"Hi Tammy. Can you get us a coffee? Your uniform is ready."

Tom went through to the rear of the shop and plugged the kettle in after filling it. He went to the store room and took off his outer clothes then put on the white dress hanging there. He let his black hair down and took out his single stud, placing two pearl earrings in his ears. He'd had both ears pierced a few years earlier but only routinely wore anything in his left ear.

Tom brushed his hair through and started to think of himself as Tamara, his alter-ego. As Tamara he felt calm.

Tammy put on some nude tights and slipped his feet into a pair of black patent shoes with a small heel. He knew he'd have to learn about shoe styles if he was ever to survive as a woman. Sarah sold clothes but not shoes.

Tammy stood in front of the long mirror and took out her contact lenses, then she put on a little make-up. The transformation was almost complete, she finally put on a simple pair of glasses. Tammy now looked nothing like the Tom who had walked in.

Tammy walked back to the kettle and poured two coffees, which she carried into the shop.

"Tammy, you look wonderful today."

"Thank you Sarah."

Tammy didn't speak with much sincerity today, and Sarah noticed.

"What's up?"

"It's those fireworks. I just know I won't be able to get down to the harbour."

Tammy gestured over her shoulder in the direction of the harbour, quarter of a mile away.

"Tammy, don't worry about it. You have been there long enough to cope with little things like this."

"I know Sarah, but this isn't the first year they've done something this. They should know how to arrange a party in a distillery by now."

Sarah giggled at this remark. Although she was the mother of an 18 year old daughter she still maintained a girly attitude, where appropriate.

"Tammy, when we've finished our coffees I want you to check the stock and sort out any repeat orders. I'm going to start a sale at the end of the month to get some more business. This recession hasn't hurt me yet but I'm carrying too much stock. I'm just so lucky to have you to help me, I just don't think I could justify employing anyone."

Sarah thought over the words she'd just said. Before last year, her daughter Emily had helped Sarah, but Emily was now at Dundee University and didn't come home mid-term, and then wanted to go out and not work.

Sarah remembered how she had seen Tom looking through the large shop window every Saturday morning almost a year ago. After six weeks he'd almost gained the confidence to open the door but had retreated in fright.

The next time Sarah saw Tom was two weeks later but this time she was ready and had stepped outside the shop and stood across the road just before he walked past, at ten thirty. She was sure he'd run but fear had rooted him to the spot. Sarah had suggested a coffee and that started their Saturday routine.

By the end of that first Saturday morning Sarah knew Tom and Tamara. She didn't like Tamara as a name so had used Tammy since.

"I'm sorry, Tammy, that sounded like I was only using you because you're not on a wage."

"Sarah, I know what you really meant and I think it's sweet of you to let me help you, just as Emily did."

Sarah gave Tammy a hug and sent her to check the stock while Sarah unbolted the door and turned over the sign. The first customers arrived shortly after ten. Sarah normally looked after the front of the shop and dealt with the customers, most of whom were over thirty.

The shop did not stock mass produced clothes, nor one-offs. Just somewhere in between. Sarah's usual customers ranged from women needing a ball gown to those needed new lingerie. Every sort of customer in between would also appear over the course of a typical Saturday. Tammy, of course, had never seen the shop on any other day.

For some unspecified reason the shop was particularly busy this Saturday but Sarah seemed to cope. She put up the Closed sign at one and locked the door. Tammy produced more coffee and the pastries she'd bought earlier. This would suffice for lunch for both of them. Tammy could still feel the effects of Tom's breakfast.

Half an hour later, with makeup refreshed, Sarah re-opened the shop. After five minutes it seemed as if all of Thurso wanted clothes, including a few from Wick. It now seemed there were a few social events that evening, including one at the golf course

Sarah called for Tammy to come out to the front to handle the till and card terminal. Sarah had taught Tammy during quiet periods during the previous spring. Even though Tammy was capable, she was still scared. This came over as shyness to the customers she handled. There was little time for small talk thankfully.

Sarah and Tammy had worked out a cover story for Tammy which had Tammy attending an unspecified private school near Dundee during the week and helping her 'Aunt' Sarah on Saturdays. Fortunately Tammy had a soft highlands accent and not Tom's original home counties accent.

Tammy, however, was dealing with one customer when she dropped the credit card. Tammy had just seen the Headmaster's wife, Mrs McIntosh, enter the store and was talking to Sarah. All the pupils knew her from the concerts and plays where she was a guest. She always made a point of congratulating the pupils involved in these events and had often spoken to Tom.

Time seemed to stand still until Tammy was brought back to reality with her customer, Mrs Davison, holding the dropped credit card. Tammy finished the transaction as quickly as possible then dashed to the toilet.

She sat there and cried.

Sarah came looking for her a minute later.

"Tammy, open up."

"No."

"Tammy, open up and tell me what's wrong."

"Mrs McIntosh."

"She's just gone and I've put the five minute sign on the door so come out and sit with me."

Tammy reluctantly came out and dabbed her hankie on her bloodshot eyes. She avoided looking in the mirror and sat next to Sarah who put her arm around Tammy.

"I know you're frightened but you did really well today. I mean it. I couldn't have coped without you."

"Yes, but ..."

"You were scared Mrs McIntosh would recognise you?"

"Yes."

"Firstly, no she didn't, especially as I told her you had started your period this morning. Secondly she said how nice you looked."

"My period?"

"It happens to every girl, eventually."

Tammy managed a short laugh then hugged Sarah.

"Now go and fix your makeup."

Two hours later Sarah locked the shop and Tammy helped check the till and card terminal before locking the money in the safe. Tammy then reluctantly became Tom.

Sarah gave Tom a carrier bag and said not to look until he returned to his room. He placed this bag in his hiking bag. She then sent him to catch the five thirty bus, the last of the day. Back at the school he barely made it to dinner, via his room.

As dinner ended, the Head announced that the school would indeed be going to see the harbour fireworks and several coaches would be outside imminently. With half the school at home for the weekend, four coaches would suffice, with the minibuses helping.

He said his wife had convinced him that afternoon that it should be a gift to the students. He didn't say who had convinced his wife however.