Chapter 3

Previously…

Our two-storey cottage was at the other end of the village. It wasn’t that large, but it was pretty and very old; 1666 in fact. It had a preservation order on it, so we couldn’t even hang a painting without asking for permission. Anyone who lives in a cottage that old knows that it can be cold, damp and not very comfortable. Dad had to fight tooth and nail to make the place liveable without the conservation people throwing a wobbly.

Still I had lived there all my life and as they say, “there’s no place like home”.
Or was it my home?

In this reality, if that was what this was, rather the favoured imagination of demented person, i.e., me.

I sort of repeated to myself the earlier question (I was doing a lot of that); did I still have my Dad and Nan or was some stranger living in my cottage who only knew me as Tanya?

That upset me a lot as I once again contemplated the possibility that I may have lost the only people I loved.

That got me wondering what was happening back in my time, place, reality or whatever. Had I been missed and was there a search on for me? Did I cease to exist when I crossed that threshold?

I swallowed and then put my blazer back on as I felt a shiver go through me. I wondered if I was going to freak out again as I went down the well-worn road that led to my cottage.

My heart was thumping as I finally arrived home. Standing at the gate, I took a moment to look at the cottage. The paint on the door looked newer although it was still black. The curtains at the windows were of a different colour and were a rather brighter than before, pink flowers on a cream background rather than the thicker, red velour type that I was used to.

The garden was well kept and designed slightly differently. This wasn’t where I lived. It was the same, but different, if you know what I mean.

I opened the wooden gate and walked up the path.

I knocked on the door.

I heard the sound of footsteps approaching form the inside.

The door opened and I recognised her immediately.

‘Hello love, where’s your door key?’

‘M…Mummy?’

And now the story continues…

‘Whatever is the matter with you Tanya?’

I tried to pull myself together. I wanted to laugh, cry, give her a hug and explain that I was from some alternative dimension.

It was all too much and I just broke down and cried.

‘Ooh darling whatever is the matter? You look as white as a sheet. Are you ill? Talk to me Tannie!’
I was in her arms and my mind raced back to a time when I was very small. I didn’t know that I still had memories of the way she smelt. They say that the sense of smell is one of the strongest and invoked memories I things long past and I could believe that at that moment. Her fragrance took me back to when I was an oh so very young a child.

But I was physically a boy then and not a girl.

Was this the same Mummy that I loved and remembered?

Somehow, I found myself in the cottage and sitting on a soft comfortable sofa with my mother still hugging me and wanting to know what had caused this strange upset.

‘You wouldn’t believe me.’ I said.

‘Did someone have a go at you at school, love?’

‘Yes…I mean no…I mean, oh I don’t know what I mean!’

I sat up and my mother (?) let go of me and looked at me in a very concerned sort of way.

‘Look, why don’t you go and get changed out of your uniform. I know you hate wearing a skirt. We can have an early tea and then go for a walk on the moor or something. It’ll clear your head.’

I just nodded and then left her staring at my back, no doubt and wondering what was wrong with me. And what did that comment about the skirt mean? That was the upside of this situation, my being a girl and being able to wear girlie clothes now and not be made to be some sort of mini, he-man clone.

I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

All the rooms were as before the change except that the decorations, you know, walls and that, were different. A bit brighter and I suppose more feminine in colour and design.

I reached the top of the stairs and automatically turned left towards my room at the end.

The door had a small handwritten sign on it.

‘Charming,’ I thought as I opened the door.

I stood there.

This wasn’t my room.

Puzzled, I turned around and went back along the corridor and looked into the spare room where Nan normally slept when she stayed, and it was full of boxes. Puzzled, I carried on to what was my Dad’s room and hesitantly opened the door.

It was totally different, more feminine and obviously a mum type room. I walked in and over to the double bed. For a moment, I wondered if in this reality Mum might have re-married or something, but only one bedside table had things on it and standing at the back of the table was a silver framed photo of her and Dad with a baby wrapped in a white shawl or blanket, cradled in mum’s arms. Dad looked much younger there, with more hair and no silver bits at the temple. They both looked so happy.

I teared up a bit at the sight of that photo and it reminded me of another one on the wall of Dad’s bedroom, which was eerily similar.

I went out of the room and back down the other bedroom.

The door was still open, so I walked in. The room had been done out as a boys one and had a lot of posters on the wall. Posters that boys would have, sporty ones including one for the Melchester United football team and someone Oriental doing kung foo or kickboxing.

The walls were blue, and the bed had a Melchester bed spread on it.

There were clothes strewn about the floor and none of them shouted girlie to me, in fact, if I didn’t know better I would have sworn that even the used underpants lying on the pillow looked like boys ones.
There was a slightly musty smell of somewhere that wasn’t often clean…

I distractedly scratched an itchy nipple, noting in passing that I was sans bra for some reason and went over to the wardrobe and opened it.

To the left were a few dresses, blouses and skirts, but in the main, the clothes were t-shirts, sweaters and jeans that looked suspiciously boyish in design.

What was going on here?

I sat on the bed and looked over at the opposite wall at a poster that I hadn’t seen as I entered the room.

This was really strange. Here I was, a girl called Tanya, with all the bits that normal girls have, sitting in what was supposed to be my bedroom and it was a bedroom that any boy would think was okay, but as a girls room, it sucked, big time. And then there was that poster. What girl would want to put a poster proclaiming she was a boy on the wall?

Then a light bulb went off in my head, I had a eureka moment and I swear that I could here church bells going and the choir singing the Hallelujah Chorus…

Fact one; before all this happened, I was a boy (well, I had boy bits, anyway).

Fact two; now I was a girl.

Fact three; the incident at the cottage door was probably a body exchange thingie. The old Tanya somehow was at the door at the same time as me and by some cosmic weirdness, we had exchanged bodies without changing minds. Well I assumed that was the case, as that was what had happened to me.

So I was here and she…I mean he, was there, in an alternative reality and probably going through a similar experience to me but in the opposite way.

All the indicators were pointed to the fact that she wanted to be a boy and I assumed that she now had my body, unless she didn’t manage to cross over or whatever the technical term was. It was probable that (s)he was now dealing with the fact that (s)he had an on-going willie situation together with a dad rather than a mum around.

Then there was me. I was here in this reality, with my dad gone and with my mother downstairs, under the impression that I was still the tom-boy from hell. On a personal note, I no longer had an outie and had an innie instead, which was fine by me, but still. It was all very confusing…

‘Ten minutes to tea, Tannie,’ called Mum from downstairs.’

‘OK.’ I called.

‘Tannie? Must be a pet name for me. I prefer Tanya.’

I remembered what I was up there for and tried to put my thoughts on hold as I decided what to wear. I would freak out later, when I had the time.

I went back over to the wardrobe and wrinkling my nose, pushed aside the boyish stuff and picked out a white peasant style top and a blue denim skirt.

Judging by the fact that the price tags were still on the clothes, I assumed that the old Tanya didn’t want to wear them.

‘More fool her,’ I thought.

I opened a couple of drawers in a chest, and had a rummage around for suitable undies. Most of the pants were boy cut style and I had to nearly dig down to Australia before I found a couple of unopened packets of panties and joy of joy, training bras. There were a few sports bras in the drawer that looked like they had been used occasionally, but I had tried a few of those on before and had found them too constricting even for a person without girlie breasts.

I knew that I lacked a certain something in the boob department when I was in the boy mode of my old life and had actually taken certain herbal concoctions— without parental permission, to try to kick-start some sort of growth; however, they didn’t work.

I had always wanted to wear a bra and lacked the opportunity, especially at school. Now I was girliefied, I did have very small buds that itched a bit and therefore needed some support. It was strange that I wasn’t wearing a bra under the school blouse as my breasts felt a bit tender, to say the least. You would have thought that she would have at least put on a sports bra to support the little darlings.

There was no way that I wasn’t going to wear a bra.

I took off my uniform as quickly as possible, folded the clothes neatly and put them on a chair. Then I turned back to the bed and with a thrill of anticipation I got dressed.

For some reason I didn’t want to look at my naked body, as I had had enough shocks already and the sight of my altered naughty bits might send me over the edge. I needed time to acclimatise to my new situation.

The thought of my feminised body was very nice, but I would leave the minute inspection of my new bits to that night, when I had more time and hopefully there would be no chance of interruption.

I put the bra on with a bit of difficulty, I must admit, and then adjusted the straps. Once I was happy with the fit, I slipped on the panties and then the blouse and skirt.

I still couldn’t believe that Tanya didn’t wear a bra, as I felt immediate relief when I put it on and my little buds were finally nestled comfortably in their new silky home.

It was too hot for tights even if I could find any. As we were walking on the moor later, sandals were out, even the boyish ones that the old Tanya had in the bottom of the wardrobe. There were some gender neutral trainers in there and I decided to wear those.

After finishing my dressing, I finally brushed my blond hair out. It was long, down past my shoulders and that surprised me, as I would have thought that she would have had a buzz cut or something.

I just shrugged, realising that I would have to find out as much as possible about her, and soon.

I had a final look at myself in the mirror, shook my head in confusion and then went downstairs.

I had already decided to not tell Mum my little secret. There was no point in sending her around the twist and calling for all sorts of medical teams to find out what was wrong with her offspring.

So I would pretend to be Tanya, the old one I mean.

Are you confused? I know that I was. Oh for a simple Once upon a time story. This was a more like Lord of The Rings, but more complicated. Mind you, this wasn’t a story, it was reality ¬ — yes, twisted reality, — but there was no doubt I was experiencing something more than a little strange.

My mother was in the kitchen and she was stirring something in a saucepan on the hob.

Without turning around, she said, ‘lay the table love.’

I took a chance and sighed with relief that I somehow found the necessary items in the drawer where they were supposed to be.

I put on the tablecloth, place mats and cutlery and then sat down at the table and watched Mum as she did her cooking thing.

She was humming to herself as she stirred what smelt like soup of some kind. She was slim, about five feet seven inches tall. She had hair the same shade as mine and she still had a lovely figure, despite her advanced age of 32.

‘Get the bread, love and sort out the drinks. I’ll have a coke from the fridge.’

I wondered for a moment where the bread was, and then I saw a bread bin on the side.

I went over, took out some already cut up French stick pieces, put them in a wicker bread basket by the side of the bin and then put it on the table. Then I went over to the fridge, found a couple of cans of Coke and poured some in a couple of glasses.

Mum was still concentrating on her cooking as I sat down at the table again.

Finally, she finished and poured the hot soup into the plates that she had by the side of her.
After washing the saucepan out and putting it on the drainer, she picked up the plates of soup and turned around. She glanced up and smiled.

‘Thanks for laying…’

She looked at me, faltered in her stride and then purposefully put the plates down on the table, her hands shaking slightly as she did so.

She sat down opposite me and absent-mindedly picked up some bread and tore it in half. She then attempted to pop the bread in her mouth, but missed and hit her nose. Then shaking her head, she finally managed to find her mouth and ate the bread.

I dipped the bread in the tomato soup and then ate it. We said nothing for a moment and I just concentrated on what I was doing, conscious that I might say something that might give the game away.

‘I will have to play this by ear,’ I thought as I ate my soupy bread.

‘Erm,’ said Mum.

I glanced up. She was looking at me rather strangely, as if she didn’t believe what she was seeing. I wondered if I had soup on my chin or something and I raised my hand to check, but I was okay.

‘T…Tanya?’

‘Yes M…Mummy?’

My mind flew back to a time when I did think of her as Mummy; she was never Mum then. She had died, but I always thought of her as Mummy when Dad or Nan spoke of her.

She seemed a bit shocked.

‘Mummy; you never call me that any more.’

She shook her head and then continued with a strange look on her face.

‘Erm, you look nice dear.’

‘Do I?’ I asked innocently.

‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘Yes fine, why?’

‘Erm, well, you are wearing, um a skirt and blouse.’

‘I know, isn’t it nice?’

‘Is it? I mean it is, but honey, you don’t normally wear things like that, do you?’

‘Don’t I, I mean, erm I don’t but I fancied a erm, a change.’

Mum smiled and it made her face even more beautiful, if that was possible.

We carried on eating in silence, my mother looking at me occasionally as if she didn’t believe what she was seeing.

It was all so unreal. Just the day before I had been sitting in the kitchen eating with Dad. Nan had gone off to a meeting with her Wrinklies Group — they were discussing the possibility of walking up Mount Snowdon or something and were there enough toilets on the way?

We had sausages and chips a favourite and easy to cook. That was good as Dad was not too great in the meal preparation department.

Now I was time and space warped here with my long dead mother sitting opposite me eating, or is that drinking soup and looking at me, wondering what the hell was going on.

We finished our meal and had ice cream for afters. We didn’t have much to talk about, as there was an obvious elephant in the room, as the saying goes. I had seen evidence of old Tanya’s leaning towards boyhood, but I had no idea how far she or maybe he had gone down the road of masculinity.
Mummy coughed and I looked up from inspecting my plate.

‘Tannie…’

‘Tanya Mummy, please.’

‘Oh, not Tan either?’

‘No, Tanya’s a nice name.’

‘For a girl.’

‘Yes, well, hello — that’s what I am.’

‘Yes, right; good erm, girl. Marvellous, fantastic.’

She looked at me, concern on her face.

‘Are you feeling all right Tanya, you cried earlier?’

‘Mmm, fine, couldn’t be better.’

‘Not got a temperature?’

‘Everyone’s got one of those or we’ll be dead.’

‘Yes, yes, I mean a high temperature, feeling a bit iffy, you know?’

‘I’m as right as rain.’

‘Good, good…’ her voice trailed off.
‘So, Mummy, are we going out for a walk then?’

‘Yes, throw the crocks in the dish washer and we’ll go. Did you want to change into jeans and t-shirt?’

‘No, why should I? It’s lovely weather out there and I think my legs need a bit of a tan, they look pasty, don’t you think?’

I stood, lifted up the skirt slightly and showed her my bare legs.

‘Erm yes, they do look a bit pale, but Tannie…’

‘Tanya, Mummy,’

‘Sorry love, but what I was about to say was that you always wear jeans and more, shall we say, boyish clothes when we go out for the walk.’

‘I fancy, a change.’

‘Okaaay, come on then, lets get cracking.’

The moor looked lovely as we walked along the well-worn trial that eventually led to the sea. The heather looked lovely and the wildness of the terrain made me imagine being a seventeenth century heroine, wearing a long dress and a beribboned hat and looking for some sort of Darcy figure coming over the brow of the hill on a horse and looking scrumptious.

Even at the tender age of eleven I had vivid imagination and although the thought of a boy kissing me in practice made me feel slightly queasy, as I wasn’t into the boy girl or even girl girl thing yet, I was just a bit of a dreamer of things that I hoped would come to pass one day.

‘So Tanya,’ asked Mummy puffing slightly as we climbed to the top of a rather steep hill and look across to the sea, glinting in the distance, ‘what do you want to do about your doctors appointment?’

‘Doctors appointment?’

‘Have you forgotten, you have an appointment with Doctor Miles tomorrow morning.’

‘What about?’ I asked.

She looked at me with another one of her strange looks.

‘The usual of course.’

‘The usual?’

I was on shaky ground here and the last thing I wanted to do was give the game away.

‘Look, Tanya, you have been behaving very strangely today. You come home in tears—that’s the first time that I have seen you cry in a long time—and the you start wearing clothes out of school that only girls wear and now this.’

‘Sorry Mummy, I don’t know what you mean,’ I said, getting tearful; it was all getting a bit too much.
She faced me and looked into my eyes.

‘Tanya, your appointment with the psychiatrist is a follow up to the last one. Don’t you remember what he said? He said that you would have to think seriously about what you actually want to be—a boy or a girl. I know that you have said all along that you are a boy and not a girl and God knows you were more boyish than half the boys in your school, but this is a life changing decision for you and you have to get it right.’

I sat on a boulder and put my head in my hands, the tears trickling through my fingers, not knowing what I should say or do. I hated the fact that I was hiding things from my mother but knew if I told her the truth, the nice men from the funny farm would come and get me armed with a straight jacket complete with special buckles.

I was a bright kid and could make decisions quickly. In the past, it was only my quick wits that kept me from being pounded for supposedly acting like a fairy. I knew what I had to do.

Mummy was by now sitting next to me and I put my head on her shoulder as she held me.

‘Mummy.’

‘Yes love?’

‘I’m not sure that I want to be a boy now—no let me finish—I want to try to be a girl and act and behave like one. As the doc said, it’s an important decision to make, changing gender and that. I need to try being a girl for a while and then I will be sure to make the right decision. You know that my b…breasts are budding?’

‘Yes he was talking about the possibility of using blocking drugs to stop you from developing further.’

I knew something about all this as my psychiatrist in the other reality had already discussed this with me and Dad.

‘The thing is, there could be side effects and I want to make sure that I want to be a b…boy for sure before I start taking them.’

‘But honey, you were all for dropping your jeans and having the injections when Doctor Miles mentioned it.’

‘I…I know, but I’ve thought about it and it’s a big step. Can I just try to be a girl for a while and then I can decide?’

She hugged me tighter.

‘Of course you can honey. You know that I only want the best for you.’

After drying my eyes with a tissue we carried on with our walk, both of us a bit quiet as I think that each of us had things to think about.

For some reason I thought about the spare room, full of boxes.

‘Mummy?’

‘Yes love?’

‘Erm about Nan…’

‘Oh yes, we’ll have to go visit her at the home. It’s a pity she couldn’t stay with us after the stroke. I hope that she recognises us this time. Mind you, if you wear a dress, it might shock her into the here and now and not years ago when your father was alive. Tanya love, why are you crying again?

Please leave comments and kudo thingies...thanks! ~Sue