Orphan ~ 2

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‘Look, Mark, don’t stop thinking about your mum and dad, they are right there in your head all the time. You need to have time to get over them not being with you anymore, but don’t ever forget the nice times. The pain will go, honey, I promise.’

Orphan
By
Susan Brown


 
Chapter 2

 

Mandy lived in a semi on the nice side of the town and the garden looked pretty and well looked after.

As I walked up the path I remembered the garden at my house. I had helped my mum and dad in the garden, it was fun. I loved getting all mucky and everything. We had a nice house; it was detached and had a lovely back garden.

I sighed as I walked up the path.

Mandy had a key in her hand and she opened the front door with it.

I followed her in and found myself in the front hall. It was nice and bright and had flowery wallpaper and a red carpet on the floor.

‘Right, Mark lets go make a cup of tea and I’m dying for a ciggie.’

We went into the kitchen diner, it was smaller than I would have thought considering the size of the place, but it was neat and clean.

Mandy put the kettle on and motioned for me to sit on a chair by the kitchen table.

I sat down and watched her — more reminders of my mum in our kitchen and sighed.

‘What’s up, pickle?’

‘Sorry?’

‘You sighed. Is there something wrong?’

‘Just a bit sad about things.’

‘I know, honey, life’s dealt you a pretty raw deal. Never mind, things can only get better.’

‘I don’t see how dressing and living as a girl will make things any better.’

‘Here, there is nothing wrong with being a girl, you know!’

‘Sorry, it’s just all — you know.’

She lit up a cigarette and my nose wrinkled at the smell.

‘Sorry, honey, it’s my only vice.’

‘What’s a vice.’

‘Something you shouldn’t be doing.’

‘Like what?’

‘Do you always ask so many questions?’

‘Yes, Mum says…’

I stopped, tears starting in my eyes, Mum didn’t say anything anymore.

‘Look, Mark, don’t stop thinking about your mum and dad, they are right there in your head all the time. You need to have time to get over them not being with you anymore, but don’t ever forget the nice times. The pain will go, honey, I promise.’

She came over and gave me a hug.

‘Mandy.’

‘Yes sweetheart.’

‘What am I called?’

‘Sorry?’

‘What girls name do I have?’

‘Oh yes, sorry about that. I hope you don’t mind and it is only til we find a permanent place for you, but I told, Miss Ormrod, the house matron that your name is Stephanie.’

‘Why Stephanie?’

‘It’s my nieces’ name, I always liked it.’

‘Yes it’s OK, I guess.’

‘Don’t you like it?’

‘I prefer Mark.’

‘I know honey but it’s only for a while. Now lets have that tea, it should be drawn by now.’

She stubbed out her smelly cigarette in a well used ash tray and made us some tea.

‘There you are, get this down you,’

I sipped the hot brew as Mandy told me what we were going to do.

‘Now, this is the plan. In a minute, I will go up to the loft and get down a couple of cases. It has some of my daughters’ old clothes in them. Then we will try them on you and see if we can get away without buying much. If we need anything else, we’ll pop to the shops and get the necessary. OK?’

I nodded, still not sure that this was a good idea.

Mandy finished her drink and went upstairs. There was a lot of banging and bashing and a couple of muffled words that sounded a bit naughty and then I heard a shout.

‘Mark, come up here please.’

I went upstairs and through an open door I could see Mandy. It looked like she was in her bedroom.

‘Come in.’

I went in and saw on the bed, a whole pile of clothes, girls’ clothes.

‘Right, I know that you are probably a bit shy about your body, most kids especially boys are, but I’ve seen it all so take all your clothes off please then we can try some things on you.’

I reluctantly got undressed.

‘And your Y fronts, you can’t wear them with these clothes.’

I could feel my face go red as I took my pants off.

‘That’s better. Now, luckily, I have some unused panties that I bought for Sandra, my daughter, they were too small and I didn’t bother taking them back. What colour would you like?’

‘I looked at the colours on offer; there was a choice of white, pink and yellow. I chose the white ones.

‘OK slip them on.’

I pulled the nylon panties up my legs. Funny, they felt quite nice and smooth.

That’s good, you are so small, and you don’t really show.’

‘Show what?’

‘Your twinkle.’

‘Twinkle?’

‘Penis, dear.’

I looked down and could see that the slightly stretchy material was holding my boy bits in. I went beetroot again.

‘Oh.’

‘Now, I think that you should go for a dress. We don’t want anyone thinking you are a boy, do we?’

I looked at the two dresses she was holding up. One was white with thin pink stripes going down and the other one was lemon with tiny pink flowers, they looked a bit old fashioned to me, but hey, what do I know?

Somehow, I was drawn to the one with flowers and I pointed to it.

‘Good choice, now it’s a bit thin so we need to wear a slip, that means you wont need a vest, you are too young for a bra, thank goodness, Here slip this over your head.’

I held my arms up and slid a white thing over my head. It was a similar material to the panties, nylon I think and like the panties, it felt nice and slippery.

‘Is that why they call it a slip?’

‘What?’

‘Cos it’s slippery?’

She laughed, ‘I hadn’t thought of that, it’s so your dress doesn’t cling to you and also it helps stop it being see through.’

I scratched my head, this was getting a bit difficult; it was like a whole new language.

‘Right, arms up again.’

I put my arms up and Mandy helped me put on the dress.

‘Right, turn around and I will do up the zip.

There was a zippy sort of sound and then it was over, I was locked in a dress!

‘Sit on the bed, love.’

I started to sit down.

‘Stop!’

‘What I do wrong?’ I said a bit flummoxed.

‘What did I do wrong , you mean. When girls sit down, you smooth the back of the dress with your hand so you don’t get it wrinkled.’

‘Like this?’ I said as I put my hand under my bottom and moved the fabric forward.

‘Got it in one, well done Stephanie!’

‘I’m Mark.’

‘I know honey, but dressed like that you don’t much look like a Mark and we need you to get used to the name.’

‘OK,’ I said hesitantly, with some reservation and not a little fear.

‘Here are some white ankle socks, and a pair of shoes, lets hope they fit.’

I put on the white socks first and then tried the shoes. They were black and shiny and had a very small heal. A thin strap with a buckle held them on my feet. They fitted, but were a tiny bit loose.

‘Try tightening the strap.’

I did as I was told and then walked around a bit.

‘They fit OK, I think.’

‘Good. Now sit on the stool.’

I sat down at the dressing table. There was no mirror so I couldn’t see much of what I looked like.

Mandy picked up a brush and started doing things with my hair. She tugged, pulled and teased it this way and that.

‘Lucky you have fairly long hair. When did you last wash it?’

‘Last week.’

‘We haven’t got time now, but wash it as soon as you can and use conditioner.’

She continued to mess with my hair until she was satisfied with the result.

‘That will have to do. You will get some help from the Sally Mason when you get to the home. She has kindly agreed to help you fit in and help you along until we move you.’

‘Is she the matron?’

‘No, she is one of the supervisors; she’s nice you will like her. Now, do you want to see what you look like?’

‘I suppose.’

‘Well, don’t be too enthusiastic. Come over to the wardrobe.’

I got up and walked over. The dress and slip felt funny on my legs. Not funny ha ha, but funny peculiar.

She opened the wardrobe door and there I was… Only it wasn’t me, or was it? The reflection of the pretty girl looked a bit like me and when I felt my hair, the hand moved at the same time as mine. My mouth was open — it was me!

‘Cat got your tongue?’

‘I…I’m pretty.’

‘Yes you are, honey. There is no way, looking like that you can ever be considered a boy.’

‘But it’s only clothes and different hair style; why do I look so, um like a girl?’

‘Because you are young, thin, have a nice face and not many manly muscles yet and you have delicate features. I noticed that as soon as I saw you. That was why we felt that you could get away with this. Don’t get me wrong, but we thought that you could easily be taken as a girl, if you wear the right clothes. As you can see, it worked.’

I looked at myself again as Mandy started to load the suitcase with the clothes that I was to take with me.

‘Stephanie, Stephanie pay attention dear and stop ogling at yourself in the mirror. Come over here.’

I reluctantly left the mirror and walked over to the bed.

‘Now, the matron or more probably Sally will help you unpack at the home. There is quite a selection of clothes and a number of pairs of shoes in the cases. If you need any more, they will take care of it. Now is your old case still in the boot of my car?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘Right, when we go downstairs, we will bring your case in here and take out your flannel, toothbrush and any other things that you can take with you. The rest we will leave here, is that all right?’

‘OK, if you think that’s best.’

‘Yes, we don’t want your boy clothes to be seen by anyone at the home. Right, let’s get going.’

Mandy carried the cases downstairs and I followed her out to the Vauxhall Viva. She opened the boot, opened my case, took out my toilet bag and was just about to close it when I remembered.

‘Stop!’

‘What, love?’

‘Can I take my book?’

‘Of course you get it while I sort your other cases out.’

I rummaged around and took out my ‘Biggles Sorts it Out’ paperback and my small teddy and then shut the case up.

Mandy glanced over.

‘Biggles? It’s a bit boyish, but I liked them when I was a girl and your teddy looks nice. I’m sure we can get away with those without any questions being asked. Right, hop into the car, I won’t be a mo.’

She took out my old case from the boot and shut it down. I was carrying my book and teddy and I got into the car, remembering to do that thingy with my dress as I sat down.

‘My dress, that sounds funny,’ I thought. ‘Will I get away with this?’

I looked in the passenger mirror all I could see was a girl’s face staring at me. ‘It must be the hair,’ I thought as I looked at the way it now framed my face, ‘Somehow, I had a fringe now, I didn’t have one before. That hair brush must be magical or something!’

Mandy got back into the car, she had another cigarette in her mouth and I wrinkled my nose again!

‘What? Look, Stephanie, it won’t do you any harm. I’ll open a window a bit, OK?’

I nodded, smiling slightly. I then looked down at my legs and feet. The dress went down just below my knees and the slip was just showing below the hem. The white ankle socks and shiny shoes, contrasted with the pink of my legs.

I put my hands on my lap, feeling the soft cotton material through my fingers. I had my book on my lap and cradled in the crook of my arm was teddy. I hadn’t done that for a few years now, I was getting a bit old for teddies, but I was insecure and concerned about what was going to happen.

Would I get away with pretending to be a girl in front of lots of real ones?

I watched the world go by as the car went to the home. I saw some children playing football up against the side of the house. They looked happy and I was jealous of that. Why couldn’t I be like them and have normal life?

I must have closed my eyes for a while as they opened with a snap as we ground to a halt with screeching brakes.

‘We’re here.’

I rubbed my eyes and looked out of the window. There was a large house with lots of windows. On the front of the house, the sign said, ‘Lavenham Girls Care Home’

As I got out of the car, my heart was thumping and I was trembling at the thought of what was going to happen to me and if I would be found out.

To be continued…

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Comments

Interesting

One comment. I know many people smoke (my mom did for about 40 years and my brother still does). However, most I've known were willing to not do it around people that were uncomfortable with it. (I don't, and never did smoke due to apparent alergies to something in them... 2nd hand didn't seem to cause any vomiting though it was just first hand smoke.)

The reason I bring that us, is that I find it a bit surprising that someone that seems this caring about children would take so many smokes near a young child that is uncomfortable with it and then go on to say it won't do any harm. I mean, Mark is going through a LOT of trauma right now and adding to his stress doesn't seem in character.

Otherwise, I find the story has an interesting premise and is fairly well executed. Thanks for posting.

Phran

Time wounds all heels

(There's a homophone typo clue for Susan in the title)

Phrancis; look at Chapter 1. This story is set as early in the seventies as you can get - it starts on New Year's Eve 1969 and this chapter is a day in mid-January 1970, ie nearly 40 years ago.

Attitudes have changed a lot since then...

Xi

Smoking

Hi Phran

Thanks for your comments.

As another commenter, Xi has said, this was at the beginning of the 70's. I remember, in the UK anyway that smoking was the norm and I recall as a youngster that both my parents smoked heavily in my presence. If there was any notion of secondary smoke causing problems, I don't remember it. I think that it is a case of different times = different knowledge,ethics and customs.

I am glad you like the story and thanks for your comments.

Hugs
Sue

My mistake.

Somehow I missed the timeframe... I was at least two decades off.

Back in the early 70s... Smoking was the norm.. I'd only discovered it wasn't for me in the mid '60s. My mom & dad were both smokers then, and you're correct there wasn't the awareness of second hand smoke back then - at least not for most of us. That said your charracter may well have been "in character" to insist on smoking in the car. Some folks might have put their cig out others not bothered. I'll "attempt" to keep this in mind going forward.

Trying times for mark

Sue Brown have you been taking short chapter lessons just when it got stsrted we com to a stop . good sofar 2 thumbs up
melissa

traying times for mark

geting relly good like a old book you just cant put it down keep up the good work hope to see a lot more .
whildchild

mr charlles r purcell
verry good story i wood love to see a lot more of this all i can say is wow verry good thanks for shareing

its sad but

feel bad for mark but i hope she can ajust being stephanie. its cute.
i like this chapter.

Rather contrived?

I find this story rather contrived. Surely Mark could be fostered somewhere until a place in a boys' home could be found. Being exposed to other girls so soon is sure to cause difficulties.

It's too forced, I'm not convinced.

Not as contrived as you might think

For the time and place, it's not as far off the mark as you may think. Unrealistic rules, without provision for reasonable exception, were commonly (and heavy handedly) enforced by the UK bureaucracies of the late 60's and early 70's - all too often with unnecessarily bad results. And all too often, the people making the rules overlooked the "unthinkable" (like placing a boy in a girls' home). They probably had something about the opposite, with the potential for rape and the gender role issues, but simply would not think about this side.

Jorey
.
ctgfind.com

Jorey
.

i wonder

it doesn't seem unthinkable to me. i know in the past and even in the present some really sad crap occurs to children. especially orphans.
IN the us and Uk in the 60s, i wouldnt think it is impossible of something very similar to this story did really occur to boys. it might be isolated but i wonder.

Credible - too credible

On the basis that 'there are bigger fish in the sea than ever come out of it' the attitude described towards an an orphaned child by the Social Services department of a local authority within the story context - ie here in the UK at the beginning of the seventies - rings a very loud bell with me.

For the agnostics, I suggest that you Google "pindown" (a single word as I have shown it) and read up on the subject of the majority of the first page of entries.

Xi

A bit too keen, perhaps?

Mark is in a state of shock, but surely: wouldn't he be much more against becoming a girl? And shouldn't "the authorities" be expecting a fight? And surely even authorities in the "backward" Britain of 1970's would have thought about any other solution? And Mark propably has money coming in as his inheritance so he is not without means to live - and therefore not without "eager" parents... Not to mention that it might be considered child abuse to force a child in this kind of situation.

Without any former crossdressing it seems bit too sudden for Mark simply to accept his fate as a girl. He is 11 years old so girls are surely different "creatures" for him. Still, I do like the story, I just hope he either shows some spirit or his backround of "girlishness" is explained.

Hugs,
Sissy Baby Paula and Snowball (my toy puppy)

there is resistance

paula he had shown resistance. wanting her to call him Mark and objecting to being called stephanie. a few other instances but the prospect of not having anywhere to live or living as a girl and having a home, he simply has to swallow his objecting and he knows it.

as for the authorities, they are the authorities. this is the only option. or to kick him onto the street.

(‘I don’t see how dressing and living as a girl will make things any better.’) he clearly doesnt like or accepting it.

<‘Why Stephanie?’

‘It’s my nieces’ name, I always liked it.’

‘Yes it’s OK, I guess.’
‘Don’t you like it?’

‘I prefer Mark.’>

Got it in one, well done Stephanie!’

‘I’m Mark.’

‘I know honey, but dressed like that you don’t much look like a Mark and we need you to get used to the name.’

‘OK,’ I said hesitantly, with some reservation and not a little fear.

so you see theres plenty of resistance. but he knows its his only option

Good tone

I like this sort of story where a boy is not forced, where wearing a dress is simply the best option.

Shock and Aftereffects

joannebarbarella's picture

I don't find it surprising that Mark is somewhat submissive after his parents died. A child of 11 years old, particularly in, say 1970, was not as sexually aware as kids nowadays. The need for stability and acceptance would be strong and encouragement from adults would influence the boy. He is told that it is temporary and he wants to stay in the area where his parents were living. I think this is all credible. Anyway, this story is being told well and I want to see how it develops, so keep going Sue. It's up to your usual standard.

Loving it so far

Trying to catch up on my reading and decided this was next and so far I love it. I'll add more comments as I read the rest of the story

I am curious regarding the

I am curious regarding the Child Services system in Britian. Was each section strictly on its own or were/are they interconnected so the office where Mark is could have sent him to another office? I realize he did not want to move, but placement in housing should come before that issue at least on a temporary basis. J-Lynn

my heart is breaking

I don't know what to say except you are breaking my heart.....Rebecca

pouting now

At the moment, I am kind of jelious. I would have loved to go to a girls home, since inside I am a girl.

name.png

I was 15 in 1970

and I remember how many people smoked and I flat out despised it. It was well known that second hand smoke was hazardous, however the tobacco industry suppressed that quite effectively to where most people did really believe that smoking itself was mostly harmless. Me, my mother had asthma and smoked, and once she stopped smoking her asthma went away. I knew back then just how bad it was. I think that most smokers were aware it was bad for children to be around smoking and just didn't want to deal with it. Why else would smoking be illegal for children if it wasn't bad for them, and that includes second hand smoke. I have to admit, if smoking continues to be a common theme here, I won't be reading this for long.