BIG GIRLS DO CRY
“Mum?” The voice came out of the living room.
“I’m here, Christie. Let me put my things down. I’ve only just got in from work.”
Christie came into the hall to see her mum trying to juggle two boxes of files from work, a plastic carrier bag from Tesco full of groceries and her hand bag. “Yes, but Jerry’s been crying in his bedroom since he came home from school. We’ve all been to see what’s the matter, but he telt us to go away. I think it’s something pretty bad, cos he’s been crying for hours. I’ll take Helens’s shopping and put it away for her, Mum. If you want us we’ll be ironing in the laundry. Jessie’s been through your washing as well as ours and has put a load of delicates on and we’re planning on doing the main wash when they’re finished.”
Gwendoline sighed as Christie took the shopping. “Thank you, Christie. Tell Jessie I’m grateful. I’ll go and see what’s happened.”
Gwendoline worked as an administrator for a large national chain of DIY stores and having reared her children to the point where she could return to full time working she was still struggling a bit to manage it all. She’d originally intended to wait another two years till her youngest was at secondary school, but the children were responsible and a great help, and the extra money was helping to pay for the large extension to the house that had been finished two years ago. The decision that she should return to work had been made by the entire family, not just herself. Much of the housework and the garden maintenance was done by the children and Helen the youngest did most of the cooking and the shopping. The extension had doubled the already large detached house in size, but since the house was set in three acres of garden the impact the extension made on the amenities the property provided the family with had only been positive. It had been built to avoid the trauma of having to move to a larger property in order to accommodate the needs of her growing family, and whilst a little harassed from time to time she had no regrets about her decision to return to full time work because it had meant the children had not had to change schools.
Gwendoline and Malcolm had four children of whom sixteen year old Jeremy, known as Jerry, was the eldest. His three younger sisters, Christie, Jessie and Helen were thirteen, eleven and nine respectively and were all loud and outgoing in complete contrast to their indrawn, quiet and almost isolated brother. Despite that they were close, sometimes she thought too close as it seemed to prevent him making other friends. Jerry had always been quiet and had never sought the company of other children, not even his sisters, who fair to say had always included him in their games. Even before he went to school his parent’s and his dad’s parents, Gwendoline’s parents had died before he was born, had noticed that he was a clever and gentle soul who whilst he enjoyed playing with his baby sister preferred to practise his latest found skill: reading, and he’d never bothered with the toys they’d bought him. As they had grown up the girls’ friends had been included in their games, and whilst Jerry got on well with them they were friends of the girls, not of their brother. Jerry was popular at school and a well behaved, bright pupil. He had always been tall and well coordinated, so was good at games, and he played football [soccer] and cricket for his primary school.
When he was eight his grandfather had speculated to his wife and Jeremy’s parents, “I wonder if he plays football because he’s gay? And how old does a boy typically become before he would know? And if he is what could we do to help him? Perhaps a little research is called for.”
By the time Jeremy moved to secondary school he was a good looking boy, growing dramatically and attracting the notice of older girls of whom he seemed to be completely unaware. His parents had deemed it unlikely he was gay and though relieved that his sporting prowess involved him with other boys at school and he appeared to be coming out of his isolation, for he played football, rugby, cricket and tennis for the school and was an excellent track and field athlete competing in a variety of events, they were deeply troubled about him. They decided not to confront him nor even to try gentle questioning because he spent more than enough time on his own and were frightened it would isolate him altogether.
Jeremy had always been completely uninterested in traditional boys activities, and even less in computer games, and his family had wondered many a time why he was so heavily involved in school sporting activities when he clearly wasn’t any more interested in boys than he was in girls, and other than playing for the school he expressed no interest in sport of any description. He never talked about school sport and whether they won or lost seemed to matter nothing to him. A little light was cast on the situation when Jerry was twelve, albeit unwittingly, by Christie when she, in the hearing of her gran, made a remark to her sisters about ‘the other girls’ that clearly included Jerry. “They consider him to be a girl,” she telt her son and daughter in law. The adults watched closely and indeed when his guard was down, usually when he believed only his sisters were around, his speech, behaviour and body language, though not completely feminine, were more like those of a girl three years his junior than of a boy of his age. The adults researched the matter and ultimately came to understand trans issues rather well, but were still puzzled by his sporting activities. It was decided to wait and allow Jerry, or at the worst his sisters, to bring the matter into the light of day, but all sorts of ways of helping him to resolve the matter had been discussed. Jerry’s dad and granddad had expected him to force the issue, probably at dinner one evening, but his mum and gran had thought he would ultimately breakdown as the pressure became too much and they’d formulated all sorts of contingency plans. It would just be a matter of doing what would work at the time.
By the time he stopped growing he was six feet four inches tall in his stockinged feet and massed a hundred kilos, [220 pounds] but to his family’s concern other than school sport he’d become increasingly isolated in his attempts to avoid the pursuit of girls, mostly his sisters’ friends.
Gwendoline knocked on Jerry’s bedroom door, entered and sat down on the bed next to her obviously distraught child who was half heartedly twisting an already crumpled copy of ‘Seventeen’, a magazine for teenage girls, in his hands. She took one of Jerry’s hands in hers and said gently, “So it’s finally happened has it, Love?”
“What’s happened, Mum?” Jerry sniffed.
“You’re finally having to accept what the rest of the family have known for a few years. Despite that six pack and the body that all your sisters’ friends have been drooling over for years you are actually a girl, and it’s finally hit you that there’s nowhere left to hide.” Gwendoline offered a handkerchief and a silent prayer of thanks that it was Friday with the weekend in front of them to deal with whatever needed dealing with.
Jeremy started to cry again. It was the first time since her sixteen year old had been a toddler that Gwendoline had seen him cry and it shook her to the core. It was so out of character. That he was so big and had the body of the archetypal male athlete made it all the more anomalous. She did her best to fold her eldest in her arms but at less than half Jerry’s size it was only possible by sitting across his knees. As she tried to soothe and reassure the distraught child sobbing into her bosom the tears became a gut wrenching caoine of despair that interfered with his breathing which was coming in ragged, torturous gasps. Ten minutes later Jerry was hiccuping his way back to the presence of his mother who was stroking his hair and whispering reassuring nothings that meant everything. “I can’t do it any more, Mum. I just can’t do it.”
“Shush, Love. Take some deep breaths. Your sisters care deeply about you, and your dad and I just want you to be happy. Gran and Granddad said years ago they’d do whatever they could to help. Whatever it is that is going to make you happy can be achieved. It may take time, but you won’t be helped by giving up on yourself. Nobody else is going to no matter what happens. When you are ready, start at the beginning and tell me what it is you can’t do any more and what you would like to do instead.”
After a long time and much fumbling with the handkerchief, Jerry looked at his mum and said, “Look at me, Mum. Sure there are girls taller than six four, but they don’t have shoulders and muscles like me. In sport theory this afternoon we watched a video of Anita Wlodarczyk, the Polish lady hammer thrower that took the gold medal at the 2016 Olympics. After the lesson the boys were all full of jeers, insults and abuse because of how she looked. They were so crude. It was horrible. I know I’m not strong enough to face that down.”
“Jerry. No that can’t be right. Do you have a name? A girl’s name.”
After a small eternity an even smaller voice whispered, “Jennifer. Jenny.”
“Jennifer! I like it. Well, Jennifer, I assume you were talking about the impossibility of transitioning?”
“Yeah, it’s never going to happen is it, but I can’t carry on like this. I don’t even work out, and like I said look at me. I don’t want to be laught at as a parody of a stereotypical butch woman driving an eighteen wheeler. What am I going to do, Mum?”
Jennifer looked like she was about to break down again, but her mum hugged her tighter and said, “That hammer thrower is not going to be in the least concerned what the boys at your school think about her, nor should you be. In her own eyes she’s done it in front of the entire world and has the medal to prove it, but what do you want to do? Those girls in that magazine aren’t real, they’ll have been photo-shopped out of existence and their stories are probably ghost written by a cynical forty-five year old man whose only concern is the profit to be made by selling more copies to girls of your sisters’ ages. You need to get your exams out of the way and have a new start, and you certainly don’t need to model yourself on anyone, woman or girl, in some silly magazine. You are on study leave from the end of May sometime, officially leave school in the middle of July, and you don’t have to stay on and go to the sixth form. There are other options, Love, lots of them. You’re clever, excellent at mathematics and sciences and good at everything else, so you have a lot of choices, but you don’t have to follow a traditional academic course just because you’ve been successful at school.”
A much calmer Jennifer admitted, “I don’t know what I want to do.”
“Well lets try to cut the options down a bit. Do you know what don’t you want to do?”
“Well, I don’t want to do Maths and sciences for sure, or languages I won’t ever speak. And I don’t want to have anything to do with sport ever again. I got forced into playing on all those school teams when I was still at primary school and they’ve taken my life over ever since. I hated it, but nobody ever asked me whether I wanted to play. I always wanted to dance, but even if I’d learnt how who would ever ask me to dance with them now?”
“Why didn’t you tell me or your dad?”
Jennifer sighed, “I’m not what everybody thinks. I’m not brave, and I didn’t want the arguments. Arguing would have been pointless anyway because I knew in the end I’d have given in. You’re right. I am a girl in my head, but I didn’t want anyone to call me a sissy. If that makes me a sissy then I am, but I didn’t want to be called names. I hate shouting and arguments.”
“If it were possible would you like to transition?”
“Of course, but like I said looking like this it’s never going to happen is it?”
“I don’t think things are as bad as you think, Jennifer. It’s not impossible.”
It was a bitter sounding Jennifer who asked, “What have I got going for me as a girl then, Mum?”
“You have an androgynous face that would be considered attractive with minimal make up. Fortunately the current fashion for boys is long hair, if it had been short you’d have needed a wig till it grew out, but since your hair’s down to your shoulders if you have it styled properly it would look pretty. Your feet and hands are relatively small for the rest of you, and you have no Adam’s apple, so in long skirts or trousers and long sleeved blouses or tops to cover your legs and arms you’d look nice. You’ll only need to cover up till you lose some of the muscle bulk. And plenty of women have deeper voices than you.”
“Oh yeah, and all on an sixteen stone muscle bound bloke.”
“Are you willing to give it your best try to be a girl or going to wallow in misery and failure before you’ve even tried? Because I’d not finished. Will you not at least listen?” Gwendoline hugged her again and looked into her eyes.
“Sorry, Mum. Honest. I am sorry.”
“There are women as big as you, not many it’s true, but there are some. Gwendoline Christie from ‘Game of Thrones’ is six foot three and a big girl, but she’s feminine and pretty. They don’t think they’re not women just because they’re the size they are, though they probably complain about finding clothes to fit. Most do pretty much everything that other women do, have nice hair, paint their nails, wear make up and dresses and skirts when they feel like it, and only a tiny number of them drive eighteen wheelers. If you went the transition route, you’d maybe want testosterone blockers and female hormones. Giving up the three or four games a week and all the training sessions will cause muscle loss, weight loss, though I’ve no idea how much. Hormones would cause your body to feminise, lose more muscle and eventually you’d get hips, a bottom and boobs and your skin would get softer. I’ve read the mood swings in the early days can be bad, but welcome to the world of women. What do you think it is that turns Christie into a witch for three days a month? Now on a frame like yours to look like an attractive woman you’ll need a backside like a shire horse and a bosom off a ship of the line’s figurehead. Even if you did drive an eighteen wheeler there’s nothing to stop you from being a pretty and feminine driver. Your gran and I have have been looking into possibilities for a long time, and it is doable, trust me?”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. You need to be thinking about whether you want to take hormones or not. There’s no pressure, but I suppose it would be helpful if you’d made your mind up before you see the doctor. Either way you’ve already played your last match. You should be studying from here on in till your last exam. You’re done with sport. No more matches. No more training sessions. They’ll just have to find someone else. I’ll deal with the PE(1) department, right?”
“Thanks, Mum.”
“You can blame me and your dad when the team ask what’s going on. Say I’m freaking out over your GCSEs(2) and your dad just goes along with it for a quiet life. I don’t care what those boys think either. That will get them off your back won’t it?”
“Yeah. That’ll work.”
“I’ll ring the surgery on Monday for a doctor’s appointment for you. You may not like it, but I’m not asking you on this one. I’m telling you. I know it’s not your fault, but this has gone on for far too long already. You need professional help no matter what happens. Doctor Young has finally retired, and I don’t know if the practice has found a replacement yet, but whether they have or not it’ll be someone you don’t know, so you need to be prepared for that. Jennifer?”
“You’re right, Mum. I don’t like it, but I know you’re right.”
“Good. I’ll tell your dad what’s going on when he comes in from work. He won’t be shocked or even surprised. He’s been looking into the legal aspects of this for ages. I’ll give your grandparents a call tonight too. I expect Gran will want to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“We decided ages ago, and by we I mean myself, your dad and your grandparents, that whatever happens happens at their house. If you go through with transitioning it would be far better for you to do it there where nobody knows you than here in the full sight of hundreds of people who’ve known you since you were a baby. Don’t you agree?”
“I never thought about it, but I couldn’t do it here.”
“I take it you’ve no intention of going to the prom?”
The look of revulsion on Jennifer’s face was a picture as she said, “What would I do that for, Mum? The boys would give me a hard time for not playing, the girls would be even worse and give me no peace till I’d danced with them, but I’d make a fool of myself because I can’t dance and most of the staff will be on at me to take their subject in the sixth form.”
“Fine. No Prom. That’s one less problem for us to deal with. How does this sound? You go to live with Gran and Granddad as a girl as soon as your last exam is over. You never appear there as a boy. In September you go to college or where ever as a girl over there. Since it’s eighty miles away no one will know you, and it’s unlikely any one you know will be going to a college over there. In the mean while you spend as much time here and at Gran’s as we can manage learning to behave and dress like a girl. What do you think?”
“It sounds great as far as it goes, but other people have to believe I’m a girl when they first see me. How can I do that?”
“Leave that to me. If I can’t convince you it will work you can tell me to forget it, but you have to do your best to make it work too. You have to want to make it work. No half empty glasses, they’re all half full now. Have we got a deal?”
“I want it to work so badly it hurts, Mum. It’s just difficult to believe it can be done.”
“In that case let me do the believing bit. You just do what you’re telt. First, we need to go shopping asap for clothes and shoes to fit you. I said we, you and I, and it’ll be completely embarrassment free. Trust me. You just have to look like an unwilling boy being dragged round the shops by his mum so she has a pack mule to carry the bags. I doubt anyone will even notice, but even if one of the boys from school sees you you just shrug your shoulders and look put upon. We’ll only buy stuff we can return if the size isn’t right and all you need to do is tell me what you like and don’t like. It shouldn’t be too bad trying on shoes when there’s no one around to see. The rest you try on at home. You can do that can’t you?”
“Yes. I can do that.”
“I’ll get your gran to find some one to style your hair over there in such a way that you can look like a boy at school and a girl at home. I’ll ask her to look into opportunities regarding dancing too, after all if we don’t look we won’t find will we. I’ll look on the internet for breast forms and various other bits and pieces for you, and as soon as they arrive you can start practising at home with your new look. The rest of your life starts right now. Your sisters will help with make up and clothes and won’t say anything, because they’ll be happy for you. I don’t know if they’ve said anything to you, but they already consider you to be a girl. It was something Christie said that was overheard by your gran that enabled us to understand what was happening.”
“They know all about me, Mum, but promised never to say anything till I said I said they could. Even Helen has kept quiet. Why didn’t you say something, Mum?”
“Because by the time we had an inkling into what was happening, you were already over six feet tall, and we were frightened we’d push you away and you’d hurt yourself, or even worse.” Gwendoline was crying now, “You dad found some dreadful things, including suicide statistics, on the internet about trans people especially trans children. We didn’t want anything like that to happen to you.” She grabbed hold of Jennifer by the arms and looked her in the eyes holding her gaze and said, “Promise me you’ll never hurt yourself, Love. Come and talk to us. Promise me.”
Jennifer was shocked, but thinking how suicidal she had felt from time to time said, “I promise. I never said anything because I thought you and Dad would freak out, and I thought Granddad would kill me. I wish I had.”
“Me too, Jennifer.”
Jennifer hugged her mum and repeated, “I promise.”
Gwendoline nodded and wiping the tears from her eyes said, “I need your measurements ready for tomorrow. That way we can minimise the amount of stuff we have to return by measuring the clothes in the shop. I suspect the women’s sizes won’t be terribly helpful, and it’s possible I’ll have to do a fair bit of sewing and dress making for you, maybe not from scratch, but altering things to fit, so I’ll make sure I’ve got everything I need for the sewing machine. I know I need some Velcro. How does that sound.”
“Bloody hell! Just like that?”
“You mind your language young lady. I know you’re sixteen, but you’ve just become a girl, so the rules that apply to your sisters apply to you now, and nothing would give you away faster than talking like a boy. You don’t usually say much, so start listening to your sisters and their friends, so when you do start talking a bit you sound right. And it’s not just like that. I telt you, your dad and I have been expecting something like this for a long time.”
“Yes, Mum, about the talking I mean. Mum, would you teach me to sew and use the sewing machine?”
“Of course. Excellent idea. You’ll be needing to alter clothes, and if you can do it yourself you’ll be able to have a lot more nice things. And your gran can take over teaching you when you go there. I reckon we can turn you into an attractively statuesque young lady without too much trouble. You need to keep a diary of all this as evidence of your real life test or whatever it is the psychiatrists refer to it as these days, or perhaps a scrapbook would be better, and you need to be thinking of what you’re going to do after you leave school. After dinner, I’ll get your dad to help you look online for courses in and around Birmingham within sensible travelling time from your gran’s, there should be plenty to choose from, a much wider selection than at the sixth form. I’m thinking we need to get your applications in as soon as possible, and send a letter of explanation telling them medical evidence is to follow. That way they’ll have to accommodate you as a trans girl and have no excuse they didn’t have enough warning. How are you feeling now?”
“Better, but scared sh— witless.”
“That’s better, but I’m not surprised.”
“I want to take testosterone blockers as soon as possible. I definitely don’t want to get any more masculine. I only shave once a fortnight and it’s barely visible, being blond helps. I’d die if I turned into a rug.”
“You get that from me.”
“How do you mean?”
“You’ve seen the photo’s of my dad. He was bigger than you and blond. He only shaved once a week, and that was because Mum made him when he was taking her out on Saturday nights.” She laughed and said, “He used to tell his work mates he was under orders to shave when he was ‘going out on the arm’ as he put it. If you’ve inherited Mum’s genes too you’ll probably not be able to see your toes after the hormones have worked their way through your system. I’ve no idea what size she was but Dad always claimed he’d had to put extra concrete to what the clothes line posts were set in because if the wind got behind her bras it would have ripped them out of the ground without the extra weight to hold them down.”
The pair chuckled and Jennifer said, “I’ll have to take my chance on that, Mum, because if they’ll let me I’d like to take the hormones too.”
“You’ve turned sixteen so the doctor shouldn’t have any problems with that. If you like I’ll go in with you when you talk to the doctor and give what ever support I can. Have you done your week end school work?”
“Thanks. I’ve only got some Shakespeare to read and I like to read that in bed with my laptop to take notes.”
“I’ll send your sisters up. They’re worried about you. Tell them what’s going on and who you are. I’ve a Boots make up starter pack I was going to give your cousin Aggie for her birthday, but I lost it so sent her another one before I found it still in a shopping bag. It’s in one of my wardrobes. I’ll fetch it for you and you can tell your sisters to give you make up 101 before dinner, but go and wash your face first.” Strictly the girls had no cousins. Agatha was their mother’s god daughter, but her family lived not far away. The two families were close and the children had always considered their mums who were both only children to be sisters. “It’s going to be fine, Love. Honest. Life for you as a girl will be less stressful, but probably no easier. It’s just different, but for you, Sweetie, it’ll be a whole lot better. I’ll run a tape over you when I’ve got dinner on. It shouldn’t tale long because Helen took something out of the freezer for me after breakfast. As soon as he comes in your dad can finish getting dinner ready.”
“The girls already know who I am, Mum. It was Jessie who thought of Jennifer, but Helen who suggested Jenny. She said Jennifer was like a name only used by strangers or by parents when you’re in trouble. What she actually said was, ‘strangers or the angry parent.’ I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean Dad.”
As they laughed Gwendoline said, “Probably not. She manages to get into an amazing amount of trouble for a nine year old girl and I’ve yet to see your dad discipline her effectively at all. She’s got him completely wrapped round her little finger. Mind the others have too, and I suppose it won’t be long before you’ll be no different. You’re the only one who’s ever managed her behaviour without her throwing a strop. You must tell me how you do that some time. I like Jennifer and it’s what I’ll use if you’re happy with that?”
“Fine, Mum, and after all you do have a reputation to maintain. It wouldn’t do for Helen to think you were going soft on her would it?”
The pair were laughing as Gwendoline kissed her new daughter and said, “I’m glad to see your sense of humour is reasserting itself, Love.”
Five minutes later Gwendoline could hear the squeals of laughter from upstairs as make up 101 was underway. She’d barely got the casserole in the oven when she heard Malcolm’s car pull up. When he entered the kitchen, she nodded in the direction of upstairs and said, “It’s finally happened. We now have four daughters. Her name is Jennifer. Jennifer tells me Jessie and Helen suggested it a while back, though her sisters call her Jenny.”
Malcolm smiled and said, “At last. I’m sorry I wasn’t here and you had to deal with it on your own, Darling. How did it go?”
“Stressful, but it was mum stuff. I doubt you could have helped. As soon as I was through the door, Christie telt me Jennifer had been crying since getting in from school and telt them all to go away. I don’t know for sure what triggered it, but Jennifer said in sport theory this afternoon they’d watched a video of the Olympic gold medal winning women’s hammer thrower. The boys were all crudely abusive of the way she looked and that really upset Jennifer. I’m putting a stop to the sport. I’ll ring the PE department and tell them from now on she’s studying for her GCSEs which they can’t take issue with. She never wanted to do it and allowed herself to be bullied into it because she was too afraid of name calling to tell us. She’s far more timid than we’d ever considered, but maybe that’s from having to hide herself from the boys and she’ll become more like her sisters as she openly becomes a girl. I hope so. She telt me she never wanted to do the sport even in primary school and always wanted to dance. How did we miss that all these years, Mal?”
Gwendoline had tears running off her face as hugging her Malcolm said, “Looking like the Hulk pursued by a flotilla of adoring femininity wouldn’t have helped us any, but that’s water under the bridge, Darling. What happens now?”
“Well short term. You see to dinner. There’s one of Helen’s casseroles in the oven. Sort out dessert would you? There’re all sorts in the left hand freezer, mostly Helen’s, but a few shop bought ones too. I’ll run a tape over Jennifer and we’re going shopping tomorrow. After dinner you get on the internet with Jennifer looking for courses near your mum’s, so she can transition there as soon as her last exam is over. I’ll look for stuff she needs like breast forms and the like on the internet after ringing your mum to get her up to speed. I know she suggested it, but there’ll be things she’ll want to do beforehand. I want Jennifer calmed down and settled for school on Monday, when I’ll ring the surgery for an appointment. If she can look forward to a future that she wants then I’m hoping she’ll cope well enough with the rest of the school year, so her exam results won’t suffer, and I’m praying she can get on a course of study she’s interested in next year.”
“I’ll put my stuff in the office and grab a shower first. What’s going on upstairs that’s causing all the hilarity?”
Gwendoline smiled and replied, “Your three younger daughters are giving your eldest daughter make up 101. I suggested it so they could play together as girls to bring Jennifer down off the ceiling. I suspect they’ll be at it till dinner’s ready. You know with all the after school matches and training it never occurred to me, but the only friends she’s ever had are her sisters and their friends. No boys, or at last none out of school.”
“True, but usually the boys start buzzing round when the girls blossom and doubtless if Jennifer is transitioning it’s as well she’s doing it at Mum’s. Any boys buzzing round her will be far more scared of Dad than they would be of me, Gwen.”
Gwendoline laughed at the thought. Her father in law was a retired general foreman who’d worked for a major road construction company, and he’d always maintained, “You can get men to do what you want with a fistful of money, but if you want their respect and cooperation it’s the fist not the money that does that.”
When Gwendoline went upstairs with her tape measure she was surprised by how sensibly the girls were behaving. Before trying anything out they were arguing the pros and cons and how it would, or would not, work with each of their faces, and had their phones out recording their activities.
“I explained what you said about a diary or a scrapbook, Mum, and we’re going to use the pics and video in a scrapbook we’re going to set up on the computer,” Jennifer explained. “There’s a website I’ve been going on a while called ‘Transteen’ that makes it really easy to document your transition.”
“That’s an excellent idea. I’m sorry to spoil your fun girls, but I need Jennifer for five minutes. I need to measure her, so we can go shopping tomorrow without her having to try anything on other than shoes. And before you ask no, you can’t come too. It’s just the two of us. However, I’m planning on a big shopping expedition with your gran into Birmingham as soon as Jennifer has enough clothes to come with us too.”
“Proper clothes, Mum? Girls’ clothes?” asked Jessie.
“Yes.” Gwendoline noted down all sorts of measurements and was done in three minutes.
As she left she heard Jessie say, “Brilliant! With Jenny there, Christie, Helen the babe from Hell will be kept under control, which is something not even Mum can do!” By the time she was halfway down the stairs all she could hear was peals of laughter, including from Helen who seemed to have no problem with being referred to thus. Which Gwendoline considered wasn’t really surprising since her husband openly referred to his youngest daughter as the resident dæmon or more recently occasionally as Mazikeen or Maze, a reference to Mazikeen Smith the beautiful but terrifying dæmon who was Lucifer’s companion in the television series Lucifer.
Like her sisters, Jennifer was wearing makeup and had her hair in a high ponytail when they came down for dinner. Jennifer was feeling shy and nervous at being seen thus by her father, especially because she was dressed in boys clothes because they were all she had, and nothing owned by her mother or sisters was large enough to borrow, but as she went into the living room he rose from his chair and said, “We should have sorted this out a long time ago. I’m sorry, Jennifer, but at least we are trying to sort it out now.” He opened his arms to his new daughter and hugged her tightly before saying, “You up for looking for college courses after dinner, Love?”
“Yes, Dad. Are you cool with me doing art or something like that?”
“If that’s what’s going to make you happy. I’d far rather you did that and finished the course than you did what you thought I wanted you to do like law and dropped out before the end.”
“What are you doing, Jennifer?”
“How do you mean, Mum?”
“That’s not enough on your plate.”
“I thought I’d start trying to lose some weight.”
“That’s too extreme. Eat some more. We’ll discuss your food intake with the doctor. I don’t want you to make yourself ill. Till telt otherwise you eat what you normally do.”
“Let’s start with the colleges near to your Gran’s shall we? You could do with out three hours a day on public transport.”
“That seems like a good idea, Dad. Is there a map shewing all the colleges?”
“Should be.” Much to her surprise in the end Jennifer decided to apply for Double Fashion Design, Art and French at Whinheath College which was a few miles from her gran’s house, and on a frequent bus route that would only take twenty-five minutes even in the rush hour. She’d chosen fashion design and art readily enough and had been trying to find a third and fourth subject when her dad had said, “If you choose double fashion design it says there’s four weeks in France as part of year two, and an ability to understand if not speak French would be advantageous but not essential. It’s an eight week student exchange arranged by the fashion design departments of the colleges in Birmingham and Marseille. Half of the class live with and go to college with a student over there for four weeks and then they stay with us and go to college with you over here for four weeks. The other half of the class do it the other way round. I suppose that’s so the class sizes aren’t double for four weeks with no students for the other four. I know you said you didn’t want to do languages, but what do you think to it, Jen? You’ve always done well at French. Do you fancy going to France at the college’s expense?”
Amazed by her dad’s complete acceptance of her new name to the point where he’d called her Jen so naturally, she took her time before replying, “It was only that I thought I’d never use it. Yeah, I could fancy that, and I imagine taking French would give me a better chance of being accepted for double fashion design. What’s the entrance requirement, Dad?”
“Four Cs for both art and fashion, five Cs, and they have to include English and Maths, for both double fashion and French. One of the five has to be at least a B in French to do French. You’re on for what ten As and a B in CDT?”(3)
“That’s only the predictions based on the mock results, but I’ll get eleven at better than C including English, maths and French no bother. I’ll put a bit more effort into French and read Le Monde(4) in the library a bit more often. Madam Lefévre is holding French conversation classes after school ready for the speaking and listening tests in May starting on Thursday. I’ll make sure I get a place, cos there may be more want to do it than she can take. I’ve got her Monday afternoon, but I’ll go to her form room during morning registration. Thanks, Dad.”
“No problem, Love, it’s what dads are for. But remember the mock results are all the colleges have to go off when accepting or rejecting students, so you shouldn’t have a problem. You fill the application form in and include the French conversation classes as supporting material, and I’ll make a start on the letter. Do you wish to officially change your name before you start college?”
“I never thought about it. Does it cost a lot?”
“No, and it’s a piece of cake to do. A change of name by deed poll just needs dating and witnessing by anyone. It doesn’t need a notary, but since you’re a minor we’ll make sure all the Is are dotted and all the Ts are crossed. I’ll have your mother and myself witness and authorise it as your parents and get Frank at work to sign as a notary and put the office stamp on it. You keep the original, or I’ll put it in the vault if you like, and Frank can notarise a copy to send to the college so when they confirm you have a place doing the subjects you want they’ll send the confirmation using your new name. I’ll get him to do a dozen because you’ll need others to get a new birth certificate and other things. It’ll make your life easier if your college diplomas, passport and driving licence are in your new name from the start though we’ll have to get your passport and driving licence changed to female if and when that becomes appropriate.”
Jennifer smiled and said, “Yes, please. It’s handy having a dad who’s a solicitor isn’t it?”
“Well it makes making a will and buying a house easier, but I never thought it would be useful to get me another daughter. You got a middle name, Love? You’d better put it all on the application form as well as the deed poll.”
“I hadn’t, but how does Jennifer Gwendoline Pritchard sound?”
“You happy with that?”
“Yeah!”
“Then do it.”
The application form was filled in online and sent off with the accompanying letter as an attachment that evening. Jennifer had a tearful half hour on the phone with her gran and granddad and went to bed early to read her Shakespeare. After doing her weekend schoolwork she uploaded the photos and video from her mobile phone onto her Transteen user space. As she was starting her diary of the day’s events and the decisions that had been made she was happier than she could ever remember though her parents were both still troubled by guilt.
Jennifer found shopping for girls’ clothes looking like a boy to be a little traumatic, yet more than a little exciting too, but her mum had been correct when she’d said everybody would just assume she was being dragged along by her mum as a pack mule and nobody bothered them. They met no one they knew, and there was no one around when Jennifer was trying on what seemed to her to be dozens of pairs of shoes of all descriptions, including some with two inch heels. “You probably won’t want much higher than two inch heels, though if you look taller it will make you look a bit more slender, but two inch heels will do to be going on with, Jennifer,” her mum telt her, though she insisted they purchased the perfectly fitting pair of shoes with four inch heels, “For when you’re confident enough to want them, Love.” Jennifer went home with enough underwear, skirts, tops, shoes and various other bits and pieces including nighties to start the process of transitioning at home, though a fair amount would need altering to fit. Her mother explained, “When the breast forms and the shaper pads are delivered we can go shopping for bras and jeans, or I’ll measure you and go for the first lot. All those dresses were far too old for me never mind you, but doubtless we’ll find something when we go to Gran’s, and there’s a really good dress makers’ shop there too where I’m sure we’ll find some suitable patterns and fabric.”
School was a lot easier than Jennifer had feared. It had been made clear to the PE staff that any remonstration with their star performer because his mum wanted him concentrating on his forthcoming GCSE examinations would bring an official complaint from his parents concerning bullying, via Pritchard, Lewis, Lewis and Harding, Solicitors at Law. They didn’t like it, but there was nothing they could do about it. The team were not so forbearing, but Jennifer, as instructed, blamed it all on her mum saying, “I wasn’t given any choice. I may as well be grounded till the exams are over. I thought Dad would see my point of view, but all he said was, ‘Just do what your mother tells you, and I don’t want to hear any more about it.’ ”
“Yeah. That’s parents all over, Jerry, but what can you do? If I screw up on tests my mum stops my allowance and makes me study downstairs where the entire family, including my annoying little sisters, can see me, so there’s no chance of sneaking a quick hour playing on the computer, cos they’d all grass me up. Dad just goes along with her for a quiet life.” Jerry and Colin were commiserated with by the others, and the matter was allowed to drop. Jennifer had secured a place in the after school French conversation class and was enjoying French much more now she had a reason for doing it, but she kept quiet about her college application for fear that the staff would resent her not going to the sixth form. They didn’t like losing able pupils to other institutions.
Despite a change in their GP,(5) the appointment with Doctor Millbank was relatively stress free. Jennifer had said, “You explain, Mum.”
Doctor Millbank who appeared to be in her middle forties was new to the practice. She had just the right manner to put Jennifer at ease and had asked Jennifer some questions after her mother had finished. She downloaded and printed off several pages of diet sheets and said, “It’s not critical, Jennifer, but your mum was right a slow and controlled weight loss with a little bit of exercise to keep fit is what’s required. There is enough in the diet sheets to explain the principles you need to follow without dictating exactly what you should be eating and there’s no compulsory salads. You can eat puddings and chocolates or even anything else you particularly like, just be moderate about it. I don’t want you indulging in any dramatic lifestyle changes. Some dancing would be excellent, but till you’ve organised that, walking when ever you can and using stairs rather than lifts should do it. It would be helpful but not vital if you could go for a walk after your evening meal.” She prescribed testosterone blockers and female hormones and said she wished to see Jennifer in a fortnight, when she would have her first hormone injection, but she was referring her to Mr. Fulman a gender specialist who had a surgery in Birmingham. “I expect the appointment will be in about six weeks, Jennifer. I also wish you to see a couple of other Doctors who specialise in Mental Health in children and young adults, and that appointment will be this week.”
“I’m not bonkers, Doctor!”
“No you certainly are not, but you have been subject to a lot of unnecessary stress from people who should have known better, and it’s not your fault. The doctors I wish you to talk to are a Dr. Singh who is a woman and a Dr. Whitehouse who is a man. They will be able to assess any needs you have to recover fully from the stress of having to be someone you are not and having to live like someone you are not. They are not trans specialists, but because of the nature of their work a lot of their clients are trans. They will be able to understand you and your needs far better than I can. They always work together because they believe having the same situation seen through male and female eyes gives them a deeper understanding of what is going on. You’ll like them. One of them will ring you at home, and they try to meet their clients in their clients’ GP’s surgery, at least for the first meeting, because it is familiar territory for their clients. I shall be present if you wish, your Mum too, but if you wish to see them on your own that will be fine.”
“I’ll do what you think to be best, Doctor Millbank, though I would like you and Mum to be there. May I still see you when I go to live at Gran’s, stead of having to see someone I don’t know,” Jennifer asked nervously.
Doctor Millbank reached for Jennifer’s arm and said, “Of course you may, Jennifer. As far as our records will shew your main home will be here, and I’m your GP.” She smiled and added, “Of course the college records will shew you live at your grandparents whilst studying, but I’ll alter your records with us to say where you go to college and note that you live with your grandparents during the term time and it will be fine. It’s what all GPs do with students studying away from home. In cases like yours we try to keep the number of strangers you have to see to a minimum. If things become difficult come and see me, or if you’re at you grandparents text or call me.”
Walking back to the car Jennifer’s mum asked, “How you feeling now, Love?”
“It didn’t hurt when she took the blood sample, but I’m not looking forward to that hormone injection in my bum. Well I am and I’m not, if you know what I mean. I feel a lot happier about the diet she said I should follow than about what I thought she was going to say. I guess I’m feeling as well as could be expected given what’s happening in my life, cos at least I’m doing something about things, but it’s still scary. I’m not sure what to make of those psychiatrists, but I’ll go with it.”
“Life is scary sometimes, Love, even at my age, but our next stop is the pharmacy for your prescription, and we can look at make up whilst we’re there.
When the breast forms and the shaper pads arrived, Jennifer was amazed at their size. “Mum these boobs are huge! And I’ll look ridiculous with these stuck on my thighs and bottom.”
“No you won’t, Jennifer. Any smaller, and you would look no different. You’re a big girl who’s done all her growing, so you have to look like a big girl who’s done all her growing. If you had breasts, hips and a backside any smaller you’d get teased about it by other girls, especially your boobs. Trust me I know what I’m talking about. I was a late developer, and I only got these feeding you.” Gwendoline hadn’t got a bra anywhere near large enough to fit Jennifer, but even braless in a tee shirt Jennifer had to admit her breasts looked entirely in keeping with the rest of her and didn’t look too large at all. “They’ll take peoples eyes away from your shoulders, Jennifer, but the next time I’ll maybe order in a lager size, Love, but we need to see what you look like in a bra before we decide.”
It was during the fitting of the hip and bottom pads that Gwendoline noticed for the first time how large Jennifer’s penis was. “That would be a problem without appropriate underwear, Love, but at least if you do opt for the surgery there’s enough for them to work with. I’ve read that if there’s not enough to work with surgeons can have a problem creating a proper sized vagina. Still your new underwear will manage the situation, and you won’t see anything under your knickers. Your outline across the front will be what it should be.”
Jennifer was bright red as she said, “I hate it, Mum. It’s much bigger than any of the boys’ at school. In the showers after a game, they’re always asking me how big it gets when erect. I always just brush it of and let them guess, but I don’t know, Mum, because it’s never been any different. I think it’s just part of the way I am.”
“You need to tell Doctor Millbank that when you go for your hormone injection. It could be important, because I’d have thought it’s something to do with your hormone levels, and tell her that you have virtually no body hair too.”
Happy to leave the subject Jennifer just said, “Right, Mum.” The silicone in place, Gwendoline measured Jennifer and went shopping. She returned a couple of hours later with a couple of long skirts, three pairs of jeans and a couple of bras that impressed even Helen into silence. Her mum had been right. Wearing a well fitting bra and a pair of form fitting jeans over her new curves Jennifer looked like a very big girl, but fully dressed even without make up, she definitely looked like a girl.
“Well, what do you think, Girls?” a nervous sounding Jennifer asked.
“You look amazing, Sis,” Jessie said, with nods of agreement from Christie and Helen.
Jennifer hesitated before saying, “For the first time, I actually think I might be able to do this, Mum. Go to college as a girl I mean.”
“Good. Because the weekend after next we’re going to Gran’s, and you’re going like that, unless you want to wear a skirt. I suggest in the mean time you get some practice in those heels, and walk like I shewed you. Stick with the two inch ones till you can walk in them in your sleep though.”
“What we going to Gran’s for, Mum?” asked Helen.
“Your dad and granddad are playing golf with two of granddad’s friends, and the six of us are going shopping all day. We’re having lunch at Springfields in the new arcade. Your gran says it’s really good there. Jennifer needs a lot of clothes, and you three need some too because you’re growing out of what you’ve got. I don’t have a problem with you wearing hand me downs, but when stuff is worn out it has to go, no matter how much you like it. Fortunately we’re not poor and I don’t want any of you looking like we are. Scruff kit is different. I don’t expect you to wear decent clothes when gardening, or indulging in activities that get you dirty, but those clothes are not for anything else. And Christie needs some proper bras.”
The last awed the youngest two into silence till Helen chirped, “Does that mean it’ll be four years before I get boobies? I don’t want to wait till I’m thirteen. There’re girls in my class who’ve got them now. Why can’t I buy some like Jenny?”
“Cos they cost too much, and you’re only nine,” said eleven year old Jessie. “And anyway, you know you’d rather have crop tops with Disney princesses on. They don’t make bras with them on.”
“Mum, can I have a crop top with Elsa on?”
“When Gran takes Jennifer to get her hair done, we’ll see what we can find in TK Maxx, Sweetie.”
Jennifer’s meeting with the two psychiatrists was nowhere near as traumatic as she had expected it to be. They were mostly interested in her reactions to being expected to play games and her inability to resist the forces that that expectation placed upon her. They were also interested in her relationships with her sisters. In the end Dr. Singh summarised their findings by saying. “The schools’ pressures on you were inexcusable and it is surprising they have had so little an effect on you. Yes, you have had suicidal thoughts, but were it not for your sisters you would probably have acted upon those thoughts. Your sisters have kept you remarkably stable for one subject to such intense forces. We shall write to your head teacher after having talked to your parents. We shall not tell him you are trans merely that the pressure has to stop immediately. You are doing very well, Jennifer. If at any time you wish to talk to either or both of us you have our number, if you wish to meet face to face Dr. Millbank can arrange it. We would like to meet with you during your summer holidays after your meeting with your gender consultant who is I believe Mr. Fulman and probably towards the end of next term sometime. I suggest you make sure you always maintain your relationships with your sisters even long after you have all married and have families, and yes that will probably even happen to you eventually.
Gwendoline accompanied Jennifer to see Doctor Millbank and it was a bright red Jennifer who explained about having virtually no body hair and a large penis but never having had an erection. I’d like to examine you, Jennifer. Would you undress behind the screen please.” After a few minutes, Gwendoline heard Doctor Millburn say, “Shall I give you the hormone jab now, Jennifer? Then you can get dressed and it’s all over?”
“That’s what I came for, so let’s get it over with.”
Less than a minute later Gwendoline heard, “That’s it, Jennifer. I’ll leave you to get dressed and talk to you then.”
After coming out from behind the screen Jennifer had tears in the corners of her eyes. When she was motioned to take a seat she said, “I’ll stand if you don’t mind.”
Doctor Millburn nodded and said, “I’ll put all my observations in a note for Mr. Fulman and he will doubtless know what to make of them, but will wish to confirm things for himself. Your lack of body hair is genetic from what you and your mum have telt me. Your penis is at the large end of the normal range, but it is nothing exceptional. What is surprising to me, but of course I am a GP not a specialist, is the small volume of your testicles which are within the size range of prepubescent boys. That you have never experienced an erection may or may not be related to the size of your testicles. I have no idea whether those two situations are genetic or not and even less whether they are related to you being trans or not. I’m glad you telt me so I can pass the information on, Jennifer. Come and see me in a month please for your next jab. Do you have any questions? Is there anything I have not explained properly?”
“Mum?”
“No. I think I understood as much as there was to be understood. What about you, Jennifer?”
“Same here. May we go now, Doctor Millburn? I don’t feel to good after that injection.”
“Of course. That’s a not unusual reaction. If it hasn’t gone within forty-eight hours get in touch. I’ll shew you out, Jennifer, Mrs. Pritchard.”
Once outside in the fresh air Jennifer said, “That’s better. I was feeling a bit sick in there, Mum.”
“You still feeling a bit nauseous, Jennifer?”
“No, I’m fine due I think to the fresh air, but my bottom is sore from that hormone injection. I know she said it would kick start the changes, but I didn’t think she meant it literally, cos it feels like I took a good kick in a scrum. I’ll be a bit careful sitting down for a while I think. I could fancy a cup tea now.”
“You want to call at Fancies for a cup of tea and a cake on the way home, Love?”
“No thanks. The chairs are hard there. I’d rather have a cup at home. The sofa is a really good idea right now.”
When they arrived at her grandparents on Saturday morning, Jennifer was taken aback to be kissed by her granddad just like her sisters. “You look lovely, Jen, and I have to say you look much happier than I’ve seen you for a long time. Enjoy your day shopping. I’m off to give your dad a thorough thrashing again, so he has to get the first pint in at the clubhouse.”
On Saturday evening after dinner when Jennifer was talking with her gran, she was telt, “You behave just like a girl you know, Jenny. You always have. You were completely in character all day. That’s how we knew something was different about you when you were quite little. We thought you might have been gay for a while. That was years before I overheard your sisters talking about you. Now you totally look the part, and I have to say I was amazed at your dress sense and taste. You have a very good sense of what suits you, and your mum and I were grateful for the way you managed to steer Helen away from clothes that were far too old for her without upsetting her at all. You’re a very good older sister you know. Helen’s sleeping in your bedroom by the way which is easier than you in your room and your three sisters in another. Your mum made the decision not me. I hope that’s all right with you?”
“That’s fine, Gran. She used to insist on sleeping with me at home when she kept having those bad nightmares and she still sneaks into my bed whenever there’s a thunderstorm.”
“Like I said, you’re a good older sister. But back to you. I haven’t managed to find out much about dancing yet, I’m still waiting for replies from some people, but earlier today your granddad not only found a club with a regular venue about twenty miles from here, but a regular partner for you too, if you want him. Joseph is a about six foot two, of a medium build and in his early thirties, so you wouldn’t feel silly dancing with him. He’s a dentist, and from Glasgow. He’s played golf with your granddad for a few years, but is also a member of a local Scottish Country Dance Society and would appreciate a regular partner to dance with. He’s been looking for a partner for a while. He dances in his kilt and your granddad has telt him about you. He’s a nice man and doesn’t care that you’re trans and only sixteen. The only thing he’s worried about is that you might not wish to dance that kind of dancing. I’ve never danced Scottish Country Dancing and don’t know anything about it. If you’re interested I’ll ring him and ask him to come over to meet you and your mum and dad tomorrow afternoon. What do you think? Or do you want some time to think about it?”
“I don’t know. I really want to learn to dance, Gran, and one type of dancing is much the same as any other to me right now. What do you think I should do?”
“You frightened, Love?”
“I suppose. A bit nervous at least.”
“It’s not the kind of dancing where you’d have his arm around you. Look up a few videos on YouTube. Like all such clubs they’ll appreciate new members and will be aware everybody was a beginner once. Clubs of all sorts, not just dancing clubs, are always advertising in the local papers for members. I like Joseph, and I trust him to look after my granddaughter, and if your granddad didn’t feel the same way he’d never have mentioned the matter to Joseph. I think you should at least meet him, and if that goes all right try it. I’ll go with you if you like, and maybe try a slow dance or two myself.”
“If you’ll go, Gran, I’ll go.”
“Good. That’s settled. I’m looking forward to it, and I’ll ring Joseph in a bit.” She palmed the curls on Jenny’s hair and said, “I think Louise did you proud with those highlights, though Helen is bound to want them too. Changing the subject again, but still on your granddad, he wondered if you were going to be openly trans or not. The students at the college are very good with that sort of thing and play a major part in the Birmingham pride events as well as fund raising for local causes throughout the rest of the year too. There are a lot of openly gay and trans students at Whinheath who say they feel well supported by the college because the college not only makes it clear that any form of bigotry is taken seriously they actually do something about it. I know all that because there’s something to do with them in the local papers regularly. The college LGBT group started running soup kitchens for anybody who needed it last winter and enough of the other students joined them to enable them to do it all year round now. I telt your granddad I’d talk to you about it. Perhaps you’d be wise just to see how things panned out, and it would be a good idea to make some friends first and start by telling them?”
“Yes. I’d wondered about it too, and that’s more or less what I’d decided.”
“You have a look on YouTube at dancing, Jenny, and I’ll ring Joseph.”
When her Gran went looking for her she found Jennifer enthralled watching dancing. “This looks like so much fun, Gran. This one’s called a Strathspey. Strathspeys seem to be mostly slow dances I think we could both do. Watch this one. It’s really fast and called ‘The Irish Rover’. It says it’s a kind of dance called a reel and looks like a lot of fun, but I don’t know how long it would take to learn.”
As they watched the dance her gran turned to Jennifer and said, “Turning round as fast as that you’d need a bloody good bra my girl!”
“Gran!”
“Well you would, or you’d either get dragged off your feet or knock yourself out, and at my age I’m allowed a swear word or two. Still interested then?”
“Yes. It beats the sh— Shine out of football, and I love the clothes some of the ladies are wearing.”
“I know your mum gets upset about bad language, and I used to, but I must have lived with your granddad too long. Just keep it under control, Love, and you’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want to do it, Gran. Mum says talking like a boy would give me away faster than anything else for sure, and I can see that, but anyway I’m trying to stop swearing, cos I really don’t like it. I only used to do it to sound like one of the boys, but now I’d rather not. Swear or sound like one of the boys I mean.”
Her gran kissed her forehead and said, “You’re a good girl, Jenny. Joseph is coming round at three tomorrow. I’ve telt your mum and dad. You do what you want now, Love. Your sisters are watching a DVD, ‘The Never-ending Story’ I think, but your granddad has poured me a port and lemon, so I really have to go.” She chuckled and added, “After all, it won’t drink itself.”
Jennifer fell asleep wondering what she’d let herself in for, but her gran would be going, so she wouldn’t be on her own, but she couldn’t help but wonder what Joseph would be like, though the idea of finally being able to dance was not only exciting but satisfying too.
After lunch her gran said, “Put a skirt on, Jenny. Something you’d wear dancing. Your denim one will be fine.”
“Sure, Gran, but why?”
“Because I don’t want a single man ogling my granddaughter’s backside in tight jeans in my house. All right?”
Jennifer laughed and said, “I thought you said he was a nice man?”
Her gran came back at her right away with, “I thought your granddad was once, and I daresay your mum thought your dad was too.” Her voice suddenly took on a serious tone. “It’s complicated, Love. You’ve not been a girl long enough to really understand. In some ways you’re a lot younger than Helen, but you will understand eventually. For the moment just accept that your mum and I know what we’re talking about and you need our protection. Yes, Joseph is a nice man and decent and trustworthy too. He isn’t the problem, you are. In your naïveté you aren’t to be fully trusted to look after yourself. I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense, but it’s true. Boys and men look after themselves physically. Girls and women can’t do that, so they have to learn other mechanisms, especially to deal with men who are much stronger. You haven’t even begun to learn about that yet, and you’re going to have to because as a woman you’ll not be able to fall back on your strength without giving yourself away and embarrassing yourself. And remember once those hormones start working you’ll not just start looking a lot more womanly you’ll lose a lot of your strength. Eventually you’ll probably be a big strong girl, but you’ll be nowhere near as strong as you are now. You’ll have traded your muscles for your bosom and hips. To survive you have to acquire a woman’s defences and you’ve sixteen years’ worth of learning to catch up on.”
“I think I can see what your getting at, Gran, and I do accept it. I’ll go and change.”
Joseph was shy but keen to find a regular dance partner. He explained, “I used to have a regular partner. We’d danced together for nearly five years, but her husband was offered a promotion and they moved to Farnborough. If you don’t have a regular partner you end up sitting a lot of dances out at the club meetings and don’t get the practice you need to perform creditably at formal dances. If you have a regular partner it’s different because even if she dances with someone else you’ll find a partner because folk know if you don’t and it happens too often neither of you will dance with anyone else to make sure you get the practice. I’ve been going to dances with my sister, but she lives near Manchester which is too far away for us to dance together at our societies’ weekly meetings. Have you watched any clips of Scottish country dancing, Jennifer?”
“Gran and I watched some last night. It looks like a lot of fun, and I loved the clothes some of the ladies were wearing. Are they very expensive?”
“They can be, but don’t have to be. You’d look fabulous in the full skirt and accessories, but it’s not necessary. If you watch some more clips of formal dances rather than society meetings you’ll see a lot of women wearing a whole variety of things. Some people are a bit snobbish about it, but they’re usually southern English or from Edinburgh and not much liked. Most members would rather you were there in ordinary clothes than not there at all. Possibly only half of male dancers own a kilt. They’re expensive and are often inherited. Mine was originally my grandfather’s. Are you interested enough to want to try it, Jennifer?”
“I was last night, but I was a bit nervous about it. Granny said if I went she’d go too and try a few slow dances too, so yes I’d like to try it.”
Joseph’s face lit up at that and he said, “I’ll be the most envied man there arriving with two new ladies. If you want to give it a go this season you’ve not got much time because it ends more or less when the school year does because so many members go away on holiday. I know you’re not going to be living here till you’ve taken your last exam by which time the season will be over, and next season begins with the schools in September. It’s a long way for you to travel till then and we dance on Thursday evenings at half past six till ten though it’s usually half past before we actually finish. I could take you home after the meeting, but I can’t pick you up. If that helps I am more than willing, but even if it doesn’t I shall be delighted to dance with you next season.”
The conversation went backwards and forwards discussing the transport situation till Malcolm who’d been more or less silent weighing Joseph up said, “If you wish to do it, Jen, I’ll drive you there and take you home. I’ve done more than my share covering for others at work so they can meet family needs. It’s payback time. Do you still want to go, Mum?”
“Yes I do. I like dancing, and I like the idea of sharing something with Jenny too.”
“Fine. I’ll bring Jen here and you can drive the pair of you to the church hall. I’ve no intention of dancing, so don’t even think about it. I’ll bring some work to do which will silence some of the juniors at work who are always moaning about the amount of time the partners take off.”
The arrangements concluded, Joseph advised the ladies as to where they could buy good dancing slippers at a reasonable price locally and what to search for on Ebay before leaving.
After Joseph had left, the girls were chatting about dancing and speculating about dances held at the college that Jennifer could attend. Christie started teasing her sister “You know, Joseph’s drop dead gorgeous, and you’ll be dancing and holding hands with him every week, Jenny.”
“Do you mind, Christie? He’s thirty-two!”
“I know you lucky pig.”
“That’s the sort of thing I’d expect Helen to say.”
Just as their mother was about to pour cold water on the teasing that Jennifer seemed to be managing before it became more than she could could cope with Jessie entered the fray to say, “There was no call for that, Jenny!” At which the four girls all collapsed into gales of laughter and their mum realised her daughters weren’t the ones who were having the most trouble accepting the new situation.
When they were alone Gwendoline asked, “You look puzzled, Mal. What’s the matter?”
Somewhat sheepishly he replied, “I suppose I want my bread buttered on both sides. Joseph treated Jen just like any other girl which is good from her point of view, but I’m her dad, and the idea of my naïve and pretty sixteen year old daughter keeping company with a charming, polite and good looking professional man in his early thirties who looks like he’s about twenty-five is a father’s worst nightmare. I was pulled up a bit sharply when I realised that all of the girls agreed with Christie when she said he was drop dead gorgeous. I’m just glad Mum will be going too.”
“Get used to it, Love. There’re three more of them after Jennifer. Even Helen’s growing up and with three older sisters she’ll grow up faster than the others. It’s what happens with a group of sisters. Each one matures faster than the one before.”
Before the family left to return home her grandfather took Jennifer to one side and telt her, “If you’re still doing it next season and wish to continue I’ll buy you what Joseph called the full skirt and accessories in time for their Christmas dance. It won’t be your Christmas present. It’ll be a present to celebrate you finding yourself and putting a lot of the family’s fears about you to rest.”
With tears in her eyes, Jennifer threw her arms round him and said, “Thank you, Granddad. I love you.”
“And I love you too, Granddaughter.” He kissed her forehead and said, “Now off you go, and try to keep Helen out of trouble.”
As Jennifer kissed her Gran goodbye she was asked, “When you come to stay, how much space will you need for boys clothes, Love? Just in case.”
Jennifer started crying, but they were tears of joy, as she said, “None. Charity shops can have the lot, cos I can’t do that any more, Gran. I just can’t do it.”
1 PE, physical education, includes gym, games and sport.
2 GCSE, General Certificate of Secondary Education. Examinations usually taken by 15/16 year olds in the UK.
3 CDT, craft design technology.
4 Le Monde, a French daily newspaper.
5 GP, general practitioner, a family doctor.
Comments
I wasn't quite ready for this story
I binged on the grumpy old men stories, so when I ran into this story, I was caught off guard, because I forgot where I was reading these stories. People talk about "suspension of disbelief" but I'd totally fallen into Eolwaen's story universe and forgot totally *where* I was reading these stories.