At Aunt Greta’s–
A Rose By Any Other Name
by Gabi
Chapter 12 of a Continuing Saga…

‘Right, ladies,’ said a new voice behind us. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll take your orders.’

We looked round and saw our waitress, holding several menu cards, so we sat down and tried to decide what we’d like to eat.

‘While you’re deciding, perhaps you’d like to tell me what you’d like to drink,’ said our waitress who’s name badge said she was Cleo Waters.

‘Farah, you’re a guest in our country so you choose first,’ I said.

‘Eek!’ came the response. ‘A soda, I guess. What do you have, please?’

‘Coke, Irn Bru” , Seven-Up, Fanta, Dr Peppers, Pepsi, Tango, Sprite, Diet Coke, Diet Irn Bru, Diet Pep–’

–‘Ummm, what’s Iron Brew?’ Farah asked. ‘I’ve never heard of that one.’

‘It comes from Scotland,’ Cleo told her. ‘It’s very popular, we sell lots of it.’

‘’Kay, I’ll try one,’ Farah replied and Cleo made a note on her pad.

‘Diet Coke, please,’ said Kristal.

‘Ordinary Coke, please,’ Lacey asked.

‘Fanta, please,’ Angela said.

‘And I’ll have Irn Bru, please,’ I added. Cleo went to get out drinks and we studied the menu. I had been to Rollers several times so I knew what to expect and had already decided to have my favourite.

‘Wow, this looks amazing,’ Farah said. ‘I lurve seafood. Whacha gonna have, Gabs?’

‘Cod and chips,’ I told her. ‘The fish is battered and deep-fried, and chips are what you call French fries, I think.’

‘I hope they don’t batter the heck outa the fish,’ Farah replied with a twinkle. ‘Actually we call it fish and chips in the States too, and I love it–, just not so much when the batter is so thick you can’t find the fish. I really like the cod, which is my favourite,’ she replied. ‘So, I’ll have that too.’

‘Good choice,’ said Lacey. ‘I will too.’

‘So that’s three cod an’ chips,’ I said. ‘What about you, Kristal?’

‘I’d like plaice, please, an’ chips, natch!’

‘And I,’ announced Angela, ‘will have a tuna salad.’

As Angela made her pronouncement, Cleo arrived with our drinks on a tray and handed them round to us. ‘Well, ladies, have you decided what you’re having to eat?’

‘I’d like cod and chips, please,’ Farah told her.

‘One cod and chips,’ repeated Cleo jotting it on her pad. ‘Anyone else for cod and chips?’

‘Me, please,’ I said.

‘And me,’ piped Lacey.

‘I’d like plaice and chips, please.’ That was Kristal.

‘And you, Miss?’ asked Cleo.

‘I’d like a tuna salad, please,’ said Angela, ‘and can I have some chips with it, please?’

‘Of course you may. So that’s three cod, one plaice and a tuna salad, all with chips. It’ll take a few minutes as we always cook the fish to order.’

‘So you’re coming to school with us, Farah?’ Lacey asked when Cleo had returned to the kitchen.

‘Yep.’ She took a sip of Irn Bru. ‘Say, this stuff’s neat, I could get used to it; makes a change from Coke. Mom, Dad and I visited Tuckton School and met Miss Morgan yesterday and she’s asked Gaby to sheepdog me, which is why we’re all meeting up today so at least I will know some of you guys when I arrive in the morning.’ She paused for a moment to take a breath, and giggled; ‘Gabs has also warned me about our teacher, Ms Tess Tickell.’

‘Sshh!’ hissed Kristal. ‘Forchristsake don’t call her that. Nobody’s s’posed to know she’s called Tess; only a few of us know and we have to keep it from the boys or the staff would go bananas. You know what boys are like.’

‘Apes,’ said Farah. ‘Nothing different here, then? What’s our math teacher like?

‘Mist’r’ogg?’ replied Lacey.

‘Our math teacher is called Miss Trogg? Like a troglodyte–a cave dweller? Ohmygod, what’s she like?’ The rest of us all started giggling.

‘Actually,’ I said, trying to control my giggles. ‘She is a he, and it’s not Miss Trogg, but Mister Ogg, but everyone runs it together so it comes out as Miss Trogg. We used to call him Oggy behind his back but he overheard a couple of boys calling him that one time and told us he was not a Cornish Pasty”¡, and announced that anyone calling him anything other than Mister Ogg would be reported to the Head teacher. So we all call him Miss Trogg and she never seems to notice the difference.’

Farah grinned. ‘I guess I’m gunna enjoy my time at Tuckton School,’ she said and joined in our giggling.

Dr Way’s voice broke into our mirth; ‘So, Honey, do you think you’re gonna fit in at Tuckton? You guys certainly seem to be hitting it off okay.’

‘Sure, Dad. Meet the coolest and craziest bunch of guys I’ve, like, met in a long time; you know Gaby already, sitting on the other side of her is Angela Williamson, then Lacey Nickerson, and Kristal Ball. They’ve been like bringing me up to speed on school and have just told me about the math teacher, Miss Trogg, who is really Mister Ogg but his name gets like, run together, so he sounds like a lady. I think it’s sooo cool.’

‘That’s great, honey. Hey, it looks like your food’s here, kids. Enjoy.’

‘We will, Dr Way, thanks,’ I answered for all of us.

Our chatter reduced as we tucked in, all being intent on enjoying our meal while it was hot (except Angela, who was having a salad). I was interested that Farah, instead of using a knife and fork together, like we did, cut up some of the fish, laid down her knife and took her fork in her right hand to spear a piece of fish and a chip or two. Stealing a quick glance over to the grown-up’s table I noticed that Dr and Mrs Way did the same thing.

‘So,’ Farah asked, while she cut up more fish. ‘Are there any cute boys at Tuckton?’

‘A few,’ Lacey replied. ‘Nearly all of them like fancy themselves as babe magnets, but most are so dorky I wouldn’t like touch them with a barge pole.’

‘Nor me,’ added Angela.

‘Mike Heard’s okay,’ I said in defence of my old best friend.

‘Maybe,’ said Kristal. ‘But that was when he thought you were a boy. He might change his mind when he finds out you were female all along.’

‘I bumped into him the other day’ I replied, ‘and when I explained about being a tomboy he was fine with it.’

‘I reckon he’s gay,’ Lacey surmised. ‘In fact, Gaby, I thought you were too, the way the two of you hung together and once I saw you holding hands. But now I know better.’

‘What about Bryan Rose?’ I asked. ‘He’s good looking and he’s always hanging with the girls. And he’s gentle and has really nice manners, too.’

‘I reckon he could be gay,’ Kristal surmised. ‘He always seems very girlie to me, and from year two he’s always liked playing and gabbing with us girls.’

‘Hey, he sounds like a kid at my school back in Boston,’ Farah chipped in. ‘He was really girlie, and he was discovered to be transgendered.’

‘He was what?’ asked Lacey, wide-eyed.

‘Transgendered,’ Farah continued, ‘means that a person is born with the wrong body. Nora, as she now is, was born Aron, but always knew she was a girl inside her boy’s body. Now she lives as a girl and will have an operation when she gets to 18.’

‘Poor kid,’ said Kristal. ‘It must have been horrible to be like that and know you have the wrong body.’

‘It must be really really hard for her at school,’ I added, thinking about what happened to me at the hands of Quinn and company yesterday.

‘We girls all help her,’ Farah said, ‘but she still gets picked on by the jocks.’

‘What! You mean Scottish kids pick on her?’ Lacey asked. ‘Why should they do that?’

‘No, no, not that sort of jock. I was talking about the boys who play a lot of sports like baseball and football.’

I thought about Bryan Rose and about the way I felt about myself before my extraordinary transformation; yes, he could easily be a girl in the wrong body. If he was he should get help–

I returned to the conversation while Kristal was saying, ‘Roger Mee’s good looking, and doesn’t he know it. So’s Walter Pratt, but he’s a total doofus and completely bonkers.’ She paused to take a bite of fish. ‘But I’ll tell you who’s a real good looker, and that’s Logan Berry, Juniper’s elder brother; the prob is that he’s three years older than us.’

‘I quite fancy Willy Bedwell,’ confessed Lacey.

‘Willy Bedwell?’ exclaimed Kristal. ‘Eeewwww, how could you. He hangs with my gross brother. I’d rather date Sandy Beach.’

‘I saw him at a bus-stop yesterday holding hands with Tanya Hyde,’ Lacey remarked.

‘I can’t think what Tanya sees in him,’ I said.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ replied Kristal. ‘Sandy’s quite buff really, but he’s hardly the brightest of guys.’

‘You mean he’s, like, kind of a doofus?’ Farah asked.

‘Yeah, That’s Sandy–a bit of a doofus.’ I confirmed.

‘Andy Royde is a kewl looker,’ Angela remarked, ‘if only he wasn’t such a nerd!’

‘And Emma’s B.F.’ I added with a giggle, dipping one of my chips into tomato ketchup.

Farah’s bewildered gaze flitted between us. ‘Well,’ she laughed, ‘I guess there should be a few guys for me to choose from, then.’

‘Well, there are one or two who aren’t spoken for and who aren’t total nut cases, so you’ll probably find someone kewl.’ I said, taking a swig of Irn Bru. ‘Is anyone going to have a pudding after this?’

‘Pudding?’ Farah queried.

‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘You know, afters, a sweet–something like ice cream.’

‘Oh, you mean dessert,’ Farah exclaimed. ‘We don’t call it pudding in the States.’

‘Oh, some people call it dessert here too,’ said Lacey, who considered herself a cut above the herd; ‘but Mummy says it’s dead common–like saying toilet instead of loo.’

Angela and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows. ‘So, Farah, d’you play any sport?’ I asked after a slightly embarrassed silence.

‘You bet I do; I play soccer, basketball, tennis, gymnastics and I’m a cheerleader.’

‘A cheerleader!’ squealed Angela. ‘Oh WOW I’d adorrrrre to be a cheerleader.’

‘Me too,’ added Kristal. ‘What about you Lacey?’

‘Oh I couldn’t,’ came the reply. ‘I couldn’t bear to cavort like that in a micro-skirt and showing my knickers in public, especially if there were men present. Anyway Mummy wouldn’t let me because she’d think it was terribly infra dig.’

‘Infra what?’ asked a puzzled looking Angela.

‘You must know infra dig,’ Lacey replied, looking surprised. ‘If something’s infra dig it’s beneath one’s dignity.’

‘It’s a new one on me,’ I chipped in. ‘I guess I’d like being a cheerleader like, it looks fun.’

‘Sure is,’ replied Farah. ‘It’s really boss.’

“It would be sooo kewl if we could start a cheerleader team at school?’ Angela mused. ‘Would you like to help us, Farah?’

‘Sure, but if we do, we will need somebody like a teacher to like coach us. What’s our gym teacher like?’

‘Springy’s good and she’s a kewl dancer too,’ Kristal said.

‘The gym teacher’s called Springy?” asked Farah, wide-eyed.

‘Actually she’s Miss Springer,’ I explained. ‘Springy is her nickname, but we never call her it to her face.’

‘Ida Drake did once, remember?’ Angela said. ‘But she’s a complete nutter anyway, and always opening her mouth and putting her foot in it.’

‘Yeah, she’s quackers!’ I giggled. ‘And it’s her beak she opens to puts her foot in!’

‘What we call a goober back home,’ Farah added. ‘Mostly goobers are boys, but there are a few girl-goobers. So what sport do we play at Tuckton?’

‘Our main sport this term is netball,’ Lacey replied, ‘and there’s also hockey if you can bear the wind whistling across the hockey field and blowing up your skirt. At least we have indoor courts for netball. The boys play football–what you call soccer, I think, Farah–but there’s a rumour of a girls’ football team starting; not that I’d want to play, but you might, mightn’t you, Gaby? After all you played it when you were pretending to be a boy last autumn term.’

‘If there’s a girls’ team I might,’ I replied, ‘but you won’t catch me joining in one of the boys’ teams and risking the likes of Pratt, Quinn, Head and co kicking the living daylights out of my shins.’

‘And the rest of you, I should think, after yesterday,’ added Angela. ‘You’ll have to try netball, Farah.’

‘I’ve never heard of netball. I don’t think we play it in the States. Is it anything like basketball?’

‘Only in the way you score goals–by throwing a ball through a hoop with a net on it,’ Kristal replied. ‘But it’s quite different in other ways. In netball we’re not allowed to run with the ball, you have to pass within a few seconds and you must stay within your particular area of the court.’

‘There are seven players in each team and only the Goal Attack and Goal Shooter are allowed to score goals,’ Angela explained. ‘Also you’re not allowed to touch an opponent, but you can block their passes by dodging or jumping up to intercept the ball with your hands.’

‘Sounds complicated,’ Farah admitted with a puzzled frown.

‘It’s hard to describe but easy once you see it and play it,’ I added.

Our discussion was interrupted by Cleo who came to collect our now-empty plates.

‘That was really good,’ Farah told her. ‘My first genuine English fish and chips.’

‘I glad you enjoyed it, dearie,’ replied Cleo. ‘You sound like you come from the States.’

‘Yes, Ma’am, from Boston, Massachusetts.’

‘Would you ladies like anything else?’ Cleo asked. ‘We have home-made gateaux and cheesecake and there’s also ice cream. Would you like to see the dessert trolley?’

‘Yes please,’ came the unanimous reply.

Lacey chose Black Forest gateau, Kristal, death by chocolate, Angela went for fresh fruit salad–without cream, was she worried about her figure?–and Farah and I both decided to have Blackcurrant cheesecake–my fave!

The Balls, Nickersons and Williamsons went straight home after we had finished our meal at Rollers but before he left, Dr Way said he would call round just after half past eight in the morning and collect me so Farah and I would arrive at school together. Angela, Kristal and Lacey said they would wait by the school gates for us so we could all go in together. Normally I would have walked from Auntie’s as it was but a stone’s throw away. The Ways drove off, and Auntie and I got into Mummy’s Volvo.

* * *

When we were back at home, Mummy came in too; she didn’t have to rush back to Timmy as he had Mrs Tate looking after him until half past six.

‘So, sweetheart,’ she said, ‘are you looking forward to your first day as a schoolgirl tomorrow?’

‘Err, sort of.’

‘Only sort of?’

‘Yeah, I’m sort of a bit scared too, in case some of the others start teasing me.’

‘You mean the boys?’

‘S’pose so–and some of the girls too. I’m not sure they are going to buy the story of my always having been a girl and I was pretending to be a boy. I’m worried some of the rougher boys might try something on–like Quinn and his mates did.’

‘Well, I’ve heard he and his merry men won’t be there for at least two weeks, because as soon as Miss Morgan heard how they had assaulted you she told their parents to keep them at home until she had spoken with the governors as to whether they should be excluded or not. She doesn’t want the school to be associated with boys like that. Mrs Ball said that the headmistress was even uncertain as to whether Kevin should be allowed to return to school, seeing that he had told Quinn about you. So you see, you don’t need to be a worry-guts over it; look how accepting Michael was when he saw you, and you’ve got Angela, Kristal, Juniper, Lacey and now Farah as friends so I can’t think you’ll get any trouble from other girls.’

‘Maybe not,’ I concurred, ‘but I can think of one or two of them objecting to having me use the same changing room.’

‘I can understand your being worried, poppet,’ she said, pulling me into a hug, ‘but there’s no point in crossing your bridges until you come to them. In the unlikelihood of anyone trying anything on, you must let Miss Morgan know straight away.’

‘Yes, Mummy.’

‘So, what do you think of Farah? D’you like her?’

‘Yeah. She’s really really nice, and those camo Bermudas she was wearing are sooooo kewl!’

‘Am I right in gathering from that that you want some the same?’

‘Yes, pleeease, Mummy. Kew-elle!’

‘If you say so, sweetheart,’ she chuckled. ‘Tell me are you all ready for the morning, as regards uniform and everything?’

‘I think so,’ I replied uncertainly, and she must have heard the slight doubt in my voice.

‘Let’s go up to your room and sort everything out, shall we?’

* * *

I had set my alarm for a quarter to seven so I had plenty of time to get ready for school. I had showered, washed and conditioned my hair, and was just starting to dry my hair, dressed as far as my bra and knickers, when Auntie came to see how I was getting on.

‘I thought you might like me to dry your hair,’ she said.

‘’Splease, Auntie. I’m not used to doing it myself yet.’

‘You soon will be,’ she said, taking the hairdryer and my hair brush from me. ‘While I’m here, I’ll just trim your fringe a bit. It’s still a bit like the old you!’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘It was getting a bit like an Old English Sheepdog the way I was having to peer through it.’

‘Rather appropriate though, seeing as you’ll be sheepdogging Farah until she’s settled in.’

‘I never thought of it that way,’ I replied, and giggling, added, ‘Hey, maybe I could get a part in a Dulux § advert!’

‘I don’t think you’re hairy enough!’ Auntie laughed. ‘Now hold still while I just trim it straight.’ That done, she continued drying my hair.

It didn’t take long and soon she was brushing my hair back into a high ponytail. ‘Will you pass me that dark blue scrunchie, hon? I thought you’d like bacon and egg for brekky today.’

‘Yes, please,’ I replied, passing her the scrunchie.

‘There you are, Miss Chambers, all done.’

‘Thanks, Auntie. I’ll finish dressing and be down in about five minutes.’

* * *

Promptly at half past eight Dr Way’s Cherokee drew up outside the gate and Farah jumped out. She looked very smart in her uniform–just like any English schoolgirl.

‘I’m off, Auntie,’ I called, opening the front door. ‘Farah’s here.’

‘Hang on a moment, I’m just coming,’ she called. ‘I just wanted a word with her father before you go.’

‘Hi, Farah,’ I said. ‘You look great in your uniform. Give us a twirl.’

‘Thanks,’ she said and twirled. ‘Now you.’ So I twirled, like I had a few minutes before for Auntie in the kitchen. ‘You look great too,’ she said and we hugged.

‘Don’t you both look smart,’ Auntie said, emerging from the kitchen.

‘Thank you, Ms Chamb–I mean, Auntie Greta,’ Farah said. ‘I guess we’d better get going.’

‘I’d just like a very quick word with your dad before you disappear,’ she said.

‘Have you gotten everything you need, Gabs?’ Farah asked as I picked up my backpack.

‘Yeah, everything,’ I replied, thinking of the clean knickers and pads I had put in for emergencies. We followed Auntie out and got in the back of the car while she spoke quietly to Dr Way. We put on our seat belts, looked at each other, grinned and she squeezed my hand; I squeezed back and thought, ‘I like this girl,’ as Dr Way said ‘goodbye,’ to Auntie, engaged drive and we set off for Tuckton School.

* * *

As Dr Way drew up by the school gate, I could see “the gang” waiting for us. Angela came over as I opened the door and jumped down–Cherokees are a lot higher off the ground than Volvo V70s–grabbed my backpack and offered a hand to Farah to help her down, but she jumped just as I had.

‘Farah, honey,’ her father called. ‘After school’s out, you go home with Gaby and Mom and I will pick you up a bit later. Ms Chambers is gonna give you tea, afternoon tea. Now you have a nice day, honey, and you, Gaby.’

‘Okay, Daddy, thanks,’ Farah replied.

‘Thanks for the lift, Dr Way.’ I called.

You’re welcome, Gaby. You have a good day, now. ’Bye, kids.’ With that he drove away leaving us to be greeted by “the gang”.

‘Hi, Angie,’ I said, and we hugged.

‘Hi, Farah,’ Angela said and she and Farah hugged too.

‘Hi, guys,’ Farah called, waving her free hand–the other was holding her backpack–as we moved towards the gate, where Juniper, Kristal and Lacey were standing.

‘Hi, guys,’ the others called back.

‘Welcome to Tuckton, Farah,’ I said.

‘Yeah, welcome,’ the others chorused.

‘Thank you,’ Farah replied. ‘It feels kinda strange coming to a new school.’

‘Gabs! Gabeee!’ I heard from behind me. I turned round and there was Michael Heard. ‘Wow! You look really good,’ he added.

‘Thank you, kind sir,’ I replied, bobbing a clumsy curtsy.

‘So how does it feel coming to school in a skirt instead of trousers?’ he asked.

‘Kewl,’ I replied.

‘And draughty!’ added Farah with a giggle. ‘I’m not used to wearing a skirt to school. Back home in the States I nearly always wore jeans or Bermudas.

‘What, no uniform? Wow, kew-elle,’ said Juniper.

‘Unh, unh,’ Farah shook her head, no.

‘Farah, this is Michael Heard, who was my best friend when I was pretending to be a boy. Mike, this is Miss Farah Way who comes from Boston in the USA.

‘And before you say it,’ interjected Farah, ‘yes, it IS far away. Hi, Mike, glad to know you.’

‘Hi, Farah. So are you in our form?’

‘I guess.’

‘Great.’

By now we had joined the others and were walking through the gate into the school grounds. I could see a number of people were staring at me, which made me feel ever so slightly uncomfortable. I wonder how many–if any–of them had twigged who I was, or rather who I had been last term.

‘Is Kevin here,’ I asked Kristal, nervously.

‘Yeah, but don’t worry,’ she replied, ‘Daddy put the fear of God up him after he heard how he’d set you up for Quinn’s gang the other day. I think he realised he’d made a big mistake when Dickhead emailed him saying that he’d seen with his own eyes that you really are a girl, and said he was gonna DO Kevin for giving them crap info–Dickhead’s word, not mine,’ she added hastily.

‘I tell you, Bedwell, that it’s Chambers wearing a skirt, a proper angel GAYbriel, and he looks a right woofter, if you ask me,’ said a loud voice from behind me that I recognised as belonging to Andrew Royde–the Android.

‘Be quiet, Royde! We didn’t ask you,’ came the stentorian voice of Mr Ogg, our maths teacher. ‘Come here this instant, boy!’

‘’Yes, Miss Trogg,’ Android replied meekly. ‘Sorry, Miss Trogg.’ Even though he was behind us and I couldn’t see him, I could almost feel the heat radiating from his cheeks from where I was standing.

We stood around chatting for a minute or two and then headed inside. We took Farah to our changing room where we would leave our blazers. She found her locker and hung up her blazer inside. From there we hurried to our Year 7 form room–showing her where the loo was on the way–so we could get desks next to each other.

We were lucky, there were six in two rows of three together in the first two rows. Angela and Farah sat in front with me between them, while Juniper, Kristal and Lacey bagged the three behind us. Five boys came in, talking noisily, and headed for the back row, earning a disapproving stare from Lacey.

‘Ooh, look,’ said Walter Pratt. ‘There’s Lacey Nickerson or should that be Knickersoff, looking down ’er nose at us as usual.’ His mates, the Android, Wayne Bates and Ivan Arden–whose mother was Russian–all sniggered. Upon hearing Lacey's nickname, Farah's mouth dropped open and she looked at me wide-eyed and then grinned.

‘Wally Pratt by name and wally prat by nature,’ retorted Juniper. ‘Why are boys so stupid?’

‘They can’t help it, poor babies,’ added Kristal, as there was a rush to take the remaining desks.

I noticed that Bryan Rose had taken the desk the other side of Angela, and Mike Heard sat at the desk just behind him. Tanya Hyde, Emma Wood and Talia Fortune took the three desks next to Bryan, and Phil Atlee headed for the one next to Mike, just as the bell rang to herald the start of the first day of term and the rest of the class came in to take their places.

They were still sorting themselves out when Miss Tickell entered the room and the hubbub of voices stopped almost instantly as everybody stood up. ‘Good morning, Year 7,’ she said brightly.

‘Good Morning, Miss Tickell,’ we chanted in unison, running it together so it sounded like Mystical.

‘Sit down, please,’ she told us. ‘First of all, welcome back everybody and I’d like to welcome a new pupil to our midst; Farah Way comes to us from the United States and will be with us for the next few years as her parents have moved here. Would you please stand up, Farah so the rest of the class can see what you look like.’

Farah stood up and smiled. ‘Hi, guys,’ she said. ‘I hope I’ll get to know y’all real soon.’

‘Thank you, Farah. You may sit down again. You all know Gabrielle Chambers; well she has agreed to be Farah’s sheepdog until she knows her way around. Yes, James?’

‘Please, Miss, you just called Chambers “she”, Miss,’ said Luke Wright. ‘Isn’t Chambers a boy?’

‘No, I don’t think so, Luke. Please would you stand up, Gaby, so James can see for himself.’ Blushing, I stood up and turned round to face Master Wright.

‘OhmyGod, he’s had a sex change!’ he exclaimed, causing loud guffaws from the other back-row boys.

‘Silence! That’s enough. Andrew Royde, SIT down this instant!’

Farah looked at me and raising her eyebrows, mouthed, ‘Boys!’

I shrugged.

‘When you’ve settled down, I’ll take the register,’ Miss Tickell announced, opening the register book and looking round the class. ‘Ivan Arden?’

‘Here, Miss.’

‘Philip Atlee?’

‘Present, Miss Tickell.’

‘Kristal Ball?’

‘Present, Miss Tickell.’

‘Wayne Bates?’

‘Here, Miss.’

‘Juniper Berry?’

‘Present, Miss Tickell.’

‘Nora Bone?’

‘Present, Miss Tickell.’

Miss Tickell carried on alphabetically until, finally she came to, ‘Luke Wright?’

‘Present, Miss Tickell.’

Our teacher ticked off the last name and snapped the book shut before putting it in the drawer of her desk just before the bell rang. ‘Okay, people, that’s the bell for assembly; line up by the door with the girls in front behind Lorna Mower. Quietly PLEASE, boys! Walter PRATT! Stop pushing; you won’t get there any quicker.’

As soon as we were lined up and quiet Miss Tickell opened the door and said, ‘Right you are, Lorna, lead on. Walter PRATT! leave Bryan alone!’

‘Yeah, put ’im down. Ya dunno where ’e’s been,’ said Joe King, a bit of a comedian who resided in the back row.

‘And you be quiet too, Joseph King!’ Miss Tickell said.

We trooped into the assembly hall and, after receiving a hymn sheet, stood in rows. Farah nudged me; ‘What goes now?’ she mouthed.

‘We’re waiting for the headmistress,’ I whispered, and Farah nodded.

Seconds after the last of the classes had arrived and found their places, Miss Morgan swept in, her academic gown flowing behind her, and took her place behind the lectern in front of the other teachers on the platform.

‘First of all, welcome to all our new students, we hope you will have a beneficial and enjoyable time while you are here. Welcome also to all of you who have been with us before; I wish you all a successful term. Now, we will sing the traditional start of term hymn, Lord, behold us with Thy blessing which you will find on the sheet you have been given.’ She looked towards Mademoiselle Blanc who was seated at the piano. ‘Thank you, Mam’zelle Blanc.’

That lady, who was actually our French teacher, started thumping out the tune and we all joined in. Then the Head said a few simple prayers and told us to sit, so, there not being any chairs, as always we sat cross-legged on the floor.

As soon as we were settled Miss Morgan gave a short speech about things concerning the school and told us that three Year 9 boys were on temporary exclusion for molesting a 12-year-old girl during the holidays. This brought some muted mumbling among the older students. Angela nudged me in the ribs and Farah gave my left hand a squeeze. Shortly afterwards we were dismissed back to our form rooms.

The time up to the mid-morning break, which on a normal Thursday would be occupied by an English and a maths lesson was taken up with issuing us with the books and such that we would need for the term’s work. Half-way through the second period Farah put her hand up.

‘Yes, Farah.’

‘Please, Ms Tickell, may I go to the bathroom?’

‘Yes, Farah. D’you know where it is?’

‘I think so,’ she replied.

‘Gaby, will you take her as you’re sheepdogging her.’

‘Yes, Miss,’ I replied.

‘You gonna have a bath too, Chambers?’ Wayne Bates shouted. ‘I knew girls were fussy about keeping clean, but–’

‘–That was uncalled for, Master Bates!’ our teacher interrupted him. ‘Miss Way is a guest in our country and they have different ways of asking for things in America. Off you go, girls; don’t be too long.’

‘Thank you, Ms Tickell,’ Farah said as we left the room.

‘You okay?’ I asked. ‘Sorry about Bates, he’s even more of a prat than Pratt.’

‘No problem, Gabs, he's just a goober. I was just a bit shy of asking for the “loo” so I just said what we always say in the States.’

We both did our business and returned to our form. Soon afterwards the bell rang for break and we trooped out into the playground where the boys tried to take over the whole space for a game of football, and we girls were squeezed to the outside. We were chatting away, when I sensed someone was pulling at the sleeve of my cardie. I looked round and there was Bryan Rose, the quiet boy, who kept himself to himself and who wouldn’t say boo to a goose.

‘G-G-G-Gabriel,’ he stammered, ‘c-c-c-can I ask you s-s-s-something?’

‘’Course,’ I said, and sensing that he was feeling very shy, suggested, ‘shall we move away from the crowd? By the way, I’m GabriELLE, but please call me Gaby.’ I had always liked Bryan and had felt for a time that he might have problems.

‘Th-Thanks, G-G-Gaby.’

We moved away out of earshot of the others. ‘So, Bryan, what’s the problem,’ I asked gently.

‘Well, you used to pretend to be a boy until this term, and now you have decided to be yourself.’

‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘I didn’t have much choice, coz these funny lumps started growing on my chest. So is there something you are unhappy about?’

‘Yeah. You see I gotta pretend to be a boy too, coz I’ve always known I’m a girl trapped in a boy’s body!’

”  Irn Bru: (pronounced Iron Brew) A soft drink (soda) manufactured in Glasgow, Scotland since 1901 by Barrs. It has long been the most popular soft drink in Scotland, outselling Coca-Cola, but recently Coke has crept up to reach parity. In the UK as a whole, Irn Bru is the third highest selling brand after Coke and Pepsi.
see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irn_Bru

”¡ Cornish Pasty: (or Tiddy Oggy, as it is called in Cornwall) is a traditional type of meat pie from that farthest west county of England. It was baked originally as the mid-day meal taken to work by the Cornish tin miners. see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cornish_pasty

 § Dulux: A brand of household paint in the UK which uses an Old English Sheepdog in its advertising.

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To be continued…

Thanks are due to Bonzi’s Mum once again for her splendid proofing and Bonzi for giving it a cat scan
also Kaleigh and Annette, my trans-pond teen-girl-speak consultants.
Any mistakes remaining are the entire responsibility of the author.

All comments gratefully received