The Shoplifter.
by
Angharad.
Some days I love my work, others it’s a bind. I probably work too many hours and have too little fun. I live well, and am quite wealthy, although the future doesn’t seem as rosy as it once did.
My great grandparents established a shop in this town, over a hundred years ago, my grandparents expanded it several times and my own father turned it into a department store employing a hundred staff.
It seems the day of the high street store is waning as the internet takes over, punishing business rates and the credit crunch all reduce our viability. John Lewis we are not, although I try to be competitive and do the best for my staff.
On one boring morning, I was duty manager, trying to cope with requests from my buyers and VAT receipts as well as drink a cup of coffee which was getting colder by the moment. Possibly my mind was distracted by worrying about my elderly mother, who was too immobile to remain independent. My father died ten years ago–worn out by the business–we all assumed. I was still living at home, my mother looking after my domestic needs while I took over the management of the shop–I had loads of new ideas which my father had refused to try, believing in the old fashioned standards and quality of a traditional department store. I revolutionised things and we began to make a profit again and so far have just about kept it there.
The problem is, it gets harder and part of me felt like giving up and selling it off and living quietly looking after my mother until she died. I had employed several housekeepers/carers for her and each one she quarrelled with and they left. This was the problem today. Her latest carer had gone after less than two days.
She implored me to find another, but where? The various agencies had refused to work for me because of her abuse, even those using foreign workers wouldn’t accept my commission–hence my difficult day.
I put the VAT stuff to one side and looked at Yellow Pages again. None of the care services there would work for me again, at this rate, I’d have to put her in a home. I needed some sort of miracle. I finished my coffee just as there was a loud knock on my door. I jumped.
My secretary only works part time these days–one of those little economies, like using instant coffee instead of fresh ground–so she wasn’t there. I called for whoever to enter.
The door opened and a youth of some sort was thrust into my room by the store detective. “Another one, Ms Grant?”
“Afraid so, Ms Adams.”
“Do we have evidence?”
“CCTV–shall I call the police?”
“I suppose so–at the rate they come here, I’m surprised they haven’t set up a station here.”
“No–please don’t do that,” said our would-be larcenist. I looked at him–his hair was long and needed a wash, his clothing–it was a bit odd. Most boys wear jeans that somehow hang half way between their waists and their knees, this one wasn’t–his fitted very snugly under a voluminous coat–presumably with hidden pockets inside it.
“Why shouldn’t I?” I asked, I always do because they always ask me not to summon the forces of law and order. Usually we do call the boys in blue because the thief after begging for mercy then becomes aggressive when it’s obvious they’re going to be prosecuted.
“I don’t know,” he responded.
“Have you taken anything without paying for it?” I asked, indicating to Ms Grant not to say anything at this stage–she’d have a list of items the accused would have been suspected of
taking.
“Yes,” he said very quietly.
“So I have every right to have you arrested for shoplifting?”
“Yes,” he was so quiet he was barely audible and he was crying a tear dripping off his nose onto my office carpet.
“What did you take?” I asked firmly. Usually it’s small things which they can sell down the pub or car boot.
He hesitated and Ms Grant ordered him to empty his pockets into a tray we kept for this purpose. The items mounted–a lipstick, nail varnish, a pair of tights, a bra, a pack of panties. Ms Grant got him to remove his coat and she searched it while I watched him. He was wearing a girl’s jumper over what looked liked girl’s jeans. We had a transvestite thief–won’t be the first or presumably the last, but it gave a little variety to the chore of dealing with them.
Total value of goods–under thirty pounds–this will cost the system more than it’s worth–calling a copper will cost twice that then the processing and magistrates–all in all probably hundreds of pounds just to sort out some saddo who likes to wear women’s clothes.
“Why shouldn’t I call the police, you’re attempting to steal my property. Shoplifting costs this shop thousands of pounds every year. If there wasn’t any, I could employ another two staff.”
“I’m sorry,” he said very quietly.
“Can you pay for the goods?” suspecting he probably couldn’t.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have any money.”
“What’s your name?”
“Smith.”
“What’s your real name, I can still call the police?”
“It is, Smith, Ian Smith.”
“How old are you Ian?”
“Eighteen.”
“Do you have a job?”
“No.”
I got up from behind my desk. “Do you always wear girl’s clothing, Ian?” I asked as I walked round him.
“When I can,” he replied very quietly.
I sent Ms Grant off to catch a more serious offender while I read the riot act to this child. Most boys of eighteen tower over my five feet five inches, this one was smaller than I, although I was wearing heels. He had on unisex trainers.
“Do your parents know you cross dress?”
“Yeah.”
“Do they approve of it?”
“No.”
I wasn’t expecting a positive answer. I picked up the lipstick–pillar box red. The nail polish was a matching colour. I was tempted to make him wear both and make him leave still wearing them but they were hardly a suitable colour for his age and complexion.
“What made you choose this colour?” I asked him.
“It was the easiest to take.”
“Look at me, please.” I asked him and when he raised his eyes to mine, I could see his shaped eyebrows. “A pink would be far more suitable for your colouring and age, red is too severe.”
“Thank you.”
I looked at the tights. At least those were suitable, grey with a rose bud pattern on them.
The bra and panties looked about right for his size.
“Is there any reason why I shouldn’t call the police or your parents?”
“No,” I could feel the heat of his blush from a yard away. He shook his head and I saw little studs in his pierced ears.
“Do you want to be a girl?”
“Yes,” he said and burst into tears falling down on his knees in front of me.
“Here,” I handed him some tissues and placed a chair next to him. He sat and wiped his eyes and nose.
“What am I going to do with you?”
“I don’t know,” he said still sniffing and dabbing his eyes.
“Do you still live at home?”
“I live with my mother, but she does her own thing.”
“She lets you wear girl’s clothes though?”
“I only wear these,” he indicated the jeans, “she hasn’t noticed yet.”
“I take it you paid for them?”
“Yes, I did actually.”
“And you don’t have a job?”
“No.”
“Have you ever done any domestic work?”
“What cleaning and cooking?”
“Yes, exactly that.”
“A bit at home–I do most of what gets done at home and cook for myself.”
“Have you ever worked with older people?”
“I helped look after my Gran until she died.”
“Would you be interested in doing some domestic work?”
“I thought you were going to call the police?”
“I still might.”
“Are you offering me a job?”
“I could be–no, it would be better suited to a girl.”
He visibly shrank and his face showed despair. I was teasing him but he didn’t know that yet. “I suppose if you really were a girl.”
He looked up at me with a completely confused expression on his face.
“What do you call yourself when in girl mode?”
“Alice.” He looked back at the floor.
“Would Alice be interested in a domestic job?”
Now his expression was one of total bewilderment. “What?” he gasped.
“Would Alice, namely you, be interested in a domestic job?”
“What, cleaning in the shop?”
“Possibly later, but I was thinking more of a domestic setting, looking after an old lady–it’ll be minimum wage and live in, minimum of thirty eight hours per week, free board and lodgings.”
He looked as if someone told him he’d won the lottery then told him it was an April fool’s joke.
“You’re offering me a job?”
“Yes. If you let me down, I’ll prosecute you for these and if you take anything from my home–I’ll see you get a custodial sentence.”
“What if I say no?”
“You have two minutes to leave this shop and never set foot in it again.”
“You’re not going to call the cops?”
“No.”
“Thank you.”
“What about the job?”
“Could I think about it? I need to talk to my mother.”
“How long?”
“I don’t have enough clothes to be Alice.”
“Wear those, they’ll be okay for what I have in mind.”
“What do I wear tomorrow?”
“I see, quite. So if it was just clothes?”
“I think Mum would be glad to be shot of me so she can have her boyfriend round more often.” He was trying to think in his excited state. “When would you want me to start?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Wow–I don’t know, it’s such a rush.”
“If you can’t do it I need to find someone else–I just thought it would be a way for you to find yourself and for me to resolve my need to find a carer for my mother.”
“Can I call my mother?”
I handed him the phone and he spent all of two minutes speaking with her, she seemed happy to be shot of him and didn’t ask for much in the way of details.
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll do it.”
I took the phone back and dialled, “Hello, Jo, could you do me a favour? Oh good half an hour? Yes, a shampoo and restyle and a facial with some light makeup. On my account, yes, Alice Smith.”
He stared at me. I gave him a five pound note, “Go and get something to eat in the restaurant, be down at the salon at twelve o’clock and they’ll do your hair for you. When you finish there come back to me and we’ll organise some clothes for you–those you can pay me back at so much a month.”
“I can’t believe this,” he said bursting into tears, “how can I ever thank you?”
“Do the best job you can.”
“What about your mother? Won’t she..?”
“That’ll be the last thing she’ll worry about.”
“I can’t believe it,” he sat down heavily on the chair overcome with the moment.
“Don’t forget your name is Alice.”
“I won’t–thank you so much.”
“Alice, go and get something to eat and then down to the salon–well go on, girl.”
“Yes, Ms Adams.”
After she’d gone I sat down and phoned mother, oh well, the two of them will have some fun tomorrow...I was rather glad I’d be in the office once I’d shown Alice where everything was. I’ll do that tonight, I’ll run her home collect her stuff and take her back to my house. I just hope mother doesn’t play up too much–she can be a right old witch. If she copes with my mother, she might just make it as a girl–it’ll be good practice in dealing with stress. Now where did I put those VAT returns?
This a continuation of the story of Alice, which was posted back in 2012 as The Shoplifter. You would be advised to familiarise yourself with it before reading the sequel.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/34761/shoplifter
Now enjoy the travails of Alice and her employer Ms Adams and the 'dragon ' who is Ms Adams mother who Alice has been recruited to look after.
Alice.
by Angharad.
It had been an interesting morning. First of all, having to deal with my mother, with whom I had a love-hate relationship, second, getting my knickers twisted while I tried to work out some sort of solution to my carer crisis, and then finally having to deal with the tranny shop-lifter. It seemed a massive coincidence that an opportunity to solve several problems at once had arisen and I congratulated myself for being able to see a thread and the opportunity; and then go for it.
I gave up with the VAT returns, it's belt and braces stuff really, the computerised tills do most of it, I simply check that it's accurate enough to pass on to the accountants otherwise they send it back and then I have to check them all. By that I mean, I have to check every day's totals and analyses and that takes weeks or costs me a fortune if I have to get someone in to do it. No, compared to what a book-keeper or accountant would charge me, hiring Alice as a housekeeper will be a much more economic choice, and possibly give the kid a chance to establish herself as a woman. I don't expect her to stay forever, she's only eighteen, but even if it's only for a few months, we should both profit from it.
I ate my lunch, knowing that Alice was down in the beauty salon. I wondered what Jo would make of her, in both senses. I'll see the answer to one in a little while, and the other tomorrow, when I get my own hair done and have a chance to ask Jo what she thought of my little project or should that be protege?
I was doing a computer search when my door was knocked. I called for them to enter and in walked our erstwhile thief blushing and smirking. "Right, let's see what miracle Jo has performed?" I said getting up and walking around the still blushing adolescent. Miracle may have been an exaggeration or was it? I lifted the girl's chin to see her face properly and she blushed again. I could feel no sign of bristles, does she not shave?
"You look much better now, how do you feel?"
I could sense some deep emotions stirring in her and cautioned her not to cry as it would ruin all the work Jo had done on her face. She seated herself on the chair she'd used earlier. "Amazing," she said, "I never thought I'd ever be able to get my hair done or have someone show me how to do my makeup. Jo is awesome, Ms Adams." She was absolutely beaming, her lovely white teeth showing between her pink painted lips.
I smiled back. I actually felt good because I'd not prosecuted this kid instead I'd listened to her story, or enough of it to make a judgement. Instead of giving her a criminal record, I'd offered her a job and I hoped I hadn't made a mistake, but I also had to be aware that I wasn't seen to be exploiting her or forcing her to change her gender for my own purposes.
I sat back behind my desk. "I'm taking quite a risk employing you."
She looked at me suddenly brought back to earth and the fact that she wasn't out of the woods yet. Her expression of euphoria had passed to one of uncertainty. "I'm sorry I tried to steal your stuff earlier."
"So am I in one sense, I don't enjoy prosecuting thieves, it wastes a lot of time and costs money, but I have to attempt to protect my property."
"I understand and I am really sorry."
"Okay, let's leave it at that, shall we? However, we have to deal with several matters before we can progress to getting you some suitable clothing." She nodded though I doubt she had a clue what I was talking about. "Alice, we need to make it clear that you are coming to work for me as a carer cum housekeeper of your own free will. That you are also adopting your preferred gender without any pressure from me or my mother or anyone else for that matter." She nodded at me and smiled. "I'll also need to put you on a payroll which is probably easiest if I use the shop system, though you'll be employed by me, not the shop." She was still smiling and nodding though I doubted anything I was saying was being processed, she was still high on her experiences at the salon. I noticed too that she had had her nails painted to match her lip colour.
"The payroll can wait for a few days, and before we do that you'll have to change your name."
"How do I do that?" Perhaps she was listening after all?
"I spoke to my personnel adviser and she told me the cheapest and easiest way is to do a statutory declaration, she's sent me a pro forma, so we can sort that later."
"What's a pro wotsit?"
"It's like a template or example we can use so then we can print it off and you pop into a solicitor's and they stamp it and sign it to show it was witnessed properly and then we can notify whoever we need to that you've changed your name. Do you have a bank account?"
She looked blank, then shook her head. "No, never needed one."
"You will now, think of it as building up some credibility about your new persona." She shrugged at this and I wondered if she was getting bored by all the official business, but to protect us all, I needed to go through the procedures with her or face potential consequences later. I certainly didn't want to be accused of coercing a vulnerable teen to do anything because I wasn't so I'd got the advice from Shona my personnel adviser and she was drawing up some declarations for Alice to sign to say I wasn't exploiting or coercing her. She would then act as a witness to the signing. Finally, we finished all the employer's legal stuff and I touched up my lipstick and took her off to the store to get her some clothes.
"I'm not expecting you to wear a uniform to look after Mum or doing housework, but I will give you some of the things we buy, the rest you'll have to repay me for through your wages. Do you understand?"
She nodded. "Could you just say you understand, because if you don't, we need to talk about it?"
"No, I understand, you'll give me a few things and the rest I have to pay for, that's fine."
We sorted out some lingerie, bras and panties, tights and so on, the poor kid had very little of a wardrobe and she was blushing and shaking her head about trying things on in the shop as I talked with our shop assistants. I found we had some cheap bra shaper things just to give her a bit of a bust and she was flying high again. I began to wonder if she'd ever been spoilt like this in her life, it looked doubtful.
Then I helped her organise some extra jeans, a couple of tops and two skirts, plus some flat shoes, a pair of heels and some ankle boots with a modest heel. Finally, we got her a cardigan, a coat and a handbag. When she carried it out to my car, she was almost in tears. Mind you so was I. You tend to assume that your life is like everyone's else's but obviously, it isn't. I hadn't been spoiled as a child but I suppose because my gender was the same as it said on my birth certificate, I'd never thought about those who were different until now. I was in danger of becoming too emotionally involved with this kid, who I was old enough to be her mother. Was I doing the right thing? We hadn't spoken to her mother - perhaps that might have been a good idea.
We left the shop and drove her to her mother's house to collect whatever of her stuff she wanted to take with her. "Does your mother realise you're coming to work as a woman?"
"No, but I doubt it'll matter, she'll be glad to get rid of me so she can have Jack come and stay with her more often."
"Is she likely to be there?"
"Dunno, she might be."
"Perhaps I could speak to her if she is?"
Alice shrugged and a moment later we stopped outside the house. I told her to stay in the car and went and rang the bell. A woman of about my own age answered the door.
I introduced myself and said that I was the person who was offering her child a job.
"Good, it'll do 'im good to learn money don't grow on trees. Get him out of my hair as well. Might stop him uh..." she stopped abruptly and blushed and it gave me a chance to explain what the job was.
"Stop him wishing to be a girl, you mean?"
"Oh, you know about that then?" she blushed rather deeply and avoided eye contact.
"Yes, in fact, it's part of why I'm employing her."
"Her?" she gasped.
"Yes, she was looking at clothes in my shop and I suddenly realised they were for her. I asked her and although it embarrassed her she told me the truth, that she wanted to be a girl."
"Is that a good idea?" asked her mother looking unconvinced.
"I don't know but at least she'll have a chance to find out and I'll arrange for her to see a doctor friend who is better versed in these things than we are, to make sure it's all done properly."
"Why are you doing all this for my son?" Was she building up for a fight, if so I'd give her one?
"Because no one else seemed to be interested in helping her."
"It's just a phase, lots of kids experiment," she protested.
"According to Alice, she's been in this phase since she was about three years old."
"Who's Alice?"
"Your daughter's chosen name."
"Oh, you're not corrupting her are you?"
"Certainly not, I need a carer for my mother and someone to do a bit of housework. So it's a genuine job offer with accommodation. She's in the car and wanted to collect a few of her things."
"Oh."
"If that's okay with you?" I threw the ball back in her court.
"Yeah, course."
"I'll fetch her." I trotted back to the car and quickly told Alice not to say which shop I owned or about the shoplifting. She cottoned on quickly.
Her mother was astonished at the change in her appearance, she looked quite convincing but not over the top and the small breast padding improved her shape considerably. Her mother asked her if she was really okay with living as a girl and Alice told her she was very excited about doing so and looking forward to her job.
"Yeah, you were good with Gran, weren't you?" said her mother with a faraway look.
Our parting shot was that I would ask Alice to call her once she got settled in and that I'd make sure she always had enough credit on her phone to be able to speak to her mother or receive calls from her to show she was well and not regretting her choice. Her mother gave her some money to buy tights and makeup, hugged her and we left with me musing if she'd done that in the first place, I'd still be looking for a housekeeper.
"You still up for this?" I asked as we drove away.
"Yeah, it's like winning the lottery, only better." She was still euphoric, oh boy wait till she meets my mother - that'll ground her. Seeing as we were going to be busy this evening we stopped at the local chip shop and I bought us all fish and chips. We were now about ten minutes from home and I began to wonder what would happen then. Had I made a huge mistake all-around or not? Oh boy, the uncertainty was reducing my life expectancy like one of those digital clocks on fast forward. Oh well, here goes, we pulled up in front of my house - well, my parent's house but mine now, my mum signed it over to me to avoid inheritance tax after Dad died, so long as she could live there as long as she wanted.
"Does she know...about me I mean?" asked a suddenly nervous young woman.
"She knows that you're living as a girl but that you weren't one to start with, she'll be fine with that, don't worry." I bit my tongue before I said, it would be everything else would be the problem with the old dragon - but she was my mum and I loved her - at least some of the time.
This a continuation of the story of Alice, which was posted back in 2012 as The Shoplifter. You would be advised to familiarise yourself with it before reading the sequel.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/34761/shoplifter
Now enjoy the travails of Alice and her employer Ms Adams and the 'dragon ' who is Ms Adams mother who Alice has been recruited to look after.
Dragon Slayer.
by Angharad.
(Please read, The shoplifter, and Alice before reading this or it won't make as much sense as it might.)
I gave Alice my keys to open the door as I carried the portions of fish and chips and my handbag. My laptop bag was still in the boot of my car along with all the clothes we'd bought Alice at the store. Mother was sitting in the lounge watching television. As she'd been on her own much of the day, I suppose it may have been for a bit of company, though I'm not sure how desperate I'd have to be to embrace Ant and Dec for company, but I suspect it would be up towards the high end.
"Hi, Mummy," I said leaning over to peck her on the cheek, "this is Alice, but we need to hurry to eat these chips before they get stone cold." With that, I dashed out to the kitchen to warm some plates and dish up, I left the other two talking.
The quickest way was to shove the plates in the microwave for a few minutes and plonk the take-aways on the radiator in the kitchen. Then while that was happening I dashed upstairs and threw off my suit swapping it for jeans and sweatshirt,the last thing I needed was chip grease on the skirt of a five hundred pound suit. Downstairs again and I reached the kitchen just as the microwave pinged. At least the plates would be hot. I called the others as I began to unwrap the food. Then I called them again, finally, I went into the lounge to see why they weren't coming and saw they were both laughing loudly at something on the telly.
"C'mon you two, this food is going cold," I said firmly and Mummy eventually rose from her chair and Alice helped her out to the kitchen - don't know why, she's perfectly capable of walking by herself, the old fraud.
The food was okay I suppose, but my mother and Alice seemed to hit it off very well together. I was waiting for the second shoe to drop as they were both on their best behaviour. I had told Alice not to mention how we'd met and also not to say how long she'd been a girl, doubtless, my mother will have all that out of her within a few days but for the moment I didn't want anything to prevent a favourable first impression.
After the meal, I grabbed Alice and told her to come and collect her stuff from the car while I got my laptop. I needed to download the letters from Shona for Alice to read and be ready to sign as Shona was popping over at eight, to witness them. It was now nearly half-past seven.
Alice carried her clothes up to her room, I showed her the layout of the house, it's four bedrooms and mother and I have the two larger rooms with the carer's room the next biggest and the box room mother's sewing room. I had my dad's old office downstairs which could have been a breakfast room originally. We eat in the kitchen unless we're entertaining, it's a big room since Daddy had it extended with plenty of room to have a dining table as well as all the usual paraphernalia required for catering, the utility room has the extra freezer and the washing machine.
She seemed quite pleased with her room and began hanging up her stuff in the wardrobe, a built-in thing we had done years ago, but it was still in good condition. I told her she would need to come down when Shona arrived to sign some letters and forms. I left her to finish off and ran down to my office to print off the various bits and pieces, Shona had sent.
When Shona arrived I called Alice down and let Shona explain what we were doing and why. "I need you to say that you have entered into this arrangement of your own free will, Alice and that no one is forcing you to adopt a female persona or lifestyle, do you understand?"
Alice said she did, then we did another few things about that and her change of name form, plus an application to the Department of Work and Pensions to get her a national insurance number and explain her new name and status. This we'd send off after she got the statutory declaration done tomorrow. Shona was coming to get her to take her to our solicitors and I'd stay with Mummy until they got back, then I'd go to work afterwards.
Then it was bedtime. I'd explained that the bathroom opposite her room was for the use of the two smaller bedrooms, Mummy and I had our own en-suites, so she put all her skincare things in the cupboard in there. I told her the following day she had an appointment with the doctor, to register and be checked over by the practice nurse and then to see Dr Emilia Swain, who had some experience of gender problems having worked at Charing Cross Hospital in their Gender Identity Clinic when she did her psychiatry training. Emilia was a friend of mine and I checked she was okay with it all before I made the appointment. The surgery was at the opposite end of the village along with the pub and church, we were up the modern end, our house was built in 1840.
There was an alarm clock in Alice's room and I told her she'd need to be up at six to get herself ready to help my mother up at seven. I also told her that she didn't need too much makeup partly because she'd probably still be doing it at lunchtime and also that I didn't want her going to the solicitor's looking like a Parisian whore or a piece of modern art. I suspected she'd played with makeup for a while as all teenage girls do, but this wasn't playing, this was real life and for both our sakes I didn't want her to give herself away because the gossip in a place like our village would be rife. Tongues will probably wag as it is because I'm employing a youngster, it took years for them calm down when they saw me kissing my girlfriend when I was fifteen - yes - I'm gay, and no I haven't told Alice because it's none of her business.
Despite having sorted Mummy out for the short term, I wasn't sure if Alice would stick it, I didn't feel relaxed so didn't sleep very well. My mind seemed intent on acting like a carousel on which the horses changed into VAT returns or Alice painting her face like a clown and me trying to make her tone it down. Consequently, I was a bit late getting up and by the time I got downstairs, Alice was boiling the kettle and making toast with a freshly painted face that for a first attempt was pretty good. I said so and she told me that Jo had explained every step in great detail and she'd done what she'd been taught. Life was looking up.
I showed her how to help Mummy wash and dress, she showered every other day and the hairdresser came once a week to wash and set her hair and trim it if necessary, sometimes she had a perm. That was Louise, a girl from the next village and I left it to her to advise Mummy on what she thought was necessary to keep her looking smart. Alice was a quick student and I began to hope she might stay awhile because she seemed to have a very good rapport with Mummy. I offered a silent prayer skywards though I doubted it would achieve anything because the others I'd sent hadn't.
Alice went off with Shona and I sat with Mummy enjoying a second cup of tea while she finished her breakfast of toast and marmalade. "So what d'you think of Alice then?" I asked her.
"She's a lovely girl. You said she used to be a boy but I can't see any boy in her."
"I only told you about her past because I felt you needed to know in case she said or did something out of character and it made you suspicious, instead now you can correct her and help her achieve her ambition of becoming as much a girl as she can be."
"Well, she's nicer than half the so-called women you got from those agencies, half of them hardly spoke English."
"Mummy, you squabbled or picked fights with all of them whether they were British or whatever, the fact they didn't speak English may have been an advantage because they couldn't argue with you then."
"I enjoy a lively discussion, you know that," she said with a sparkle in her eye.
"I know but just bear in mind, Alice is our last resort, if you upset her I don't know what we'll do."
"Put me in a home, you mean?"
"I didn't say that, but I can't run a store and look after you all day."
"You just go to work, Alice and I will be fine, in fact, we'll have fun." I wasn't sure if that was something that reassured or worried me.
Shona returned with Alice and after a brief word went off to her office, I checked all the forms she taken with her and that included three originals of the statutory declaration as some government agencies won't accept what they feel is a copy, the Passport Agency is one, though they do return it after they photocopy it, but then I do appreciate passports are used as proof of identity and that is big business in the crime world, so there has to be some effort to prevent it.
I photocopied those forms or documents we could and put everything in a folder to deal with when I got home, I felt that it would probably be quicker if I didn't leave it to Alice to do by herself, besides she had to do some dragon taming to do today, and so far, she wasn't doing too badly, the dragon liked her.
I'd shown Alice where everything was in the kitchen and told her what we were eating tonight and instructions on what to do, my mother could supervise as she did me when I was a girl. They'd also have to get their own lunch, but there was plenty of bread for sandwiches. I asked her to vacuum through downstairs and this I would expect to be done every day, with upstairs done once a week along with the stairs. Bathrooms would be done once a week properly and daily for a lick and a promise. I left it to her to organise herself as long as it was done and I also told her that while my mother liked her, she wasn't there to play with her all day, she was there to work.
Once in work, I sat and worried about whether I'd done the right thing for us, and also was I pushing this boy into becoming a girl because it was convenient for me? After a cuppa and an hour of VAT receipts, I phoned the bank and set up an account for her. Normally they wouldn't allow this but I'm a good customer and once I spoke with the manager, Peter Thompson, who I know through the Chamber of Commerce, he'd agreed to organise it and send the details, card and what have you, to my house as I gave that as Alice's address as well. I also got payroll to set up a transfer to this new account to pay her every month, though the money would come out of my money not the shop, tempting though it was.
The rest of the day was pretty routine and I stopped off at the supermarket on the way home and got some items to fill up the fridge. When I got home, I changed while Alice made me some tea. Mummy seemed in a better mood than I was used to and the place looked reasonably clean and tidy. The fluff and pencil shavings I'd deliberately left in my office and the dining room respectively had gone, so the floors had been vacuumed.
Dinner was spaghetti bolognese which isn't too demanding and it was nearly all cooked. I agreed from the outset with all parties that Alice would be part of the household and would thus participate in most things we did as a family, that included dining, so she would eat with us unless she chose not to or we had a legitimate reason for excluding her. In reality, it felt as if I was supervising a family member rather than an outsider, but except for the shoplifting, she seemed a genuine person when she was given the opportunity to be herself. While this may show me to be too trusting and naïve, she was aware if she betrayed my trust, there would be severe consequences and if she was sincere about wanting to transition to a woman, then staying with us and being employed would give her a flying start.
Apart from her chores, she had found time to play with Mother who promised to teach her to sew. As Mummy was a trained dressmaker and tailoress, Alice could have done worse for a tutor, though I admit I rebelled when she wanted me to learn how to sew as a girl and only did the compulsory bit in school. After dinner, which I helped clean up, Mummy went off to watch telly and Alice came with me to my office and we went through the paperwork and she also told me about her encounter with her new doctor - she was euphoric because Emilia had given her oestrogens, albeit a low dosage. She had told me she might, doctors sometimes do this because it lowers libido, so if you have someone who is transitioning because it turns them on, the pills will often show it. I didn't think that was the case with Alice, but I was no doctor. The surgery dispenses its own prescriptions, so she'd come home with the pills and started taking them already.
Emilia had warned her that she would possibly encounter more nausea than breast growth for the first few weeks as her body got used to the pills and she tried to warn me she may be unwell in the mornings. I pointed out that morning sickness in pregnancy, which is not an illness, had to be dealt with and while I'd be reasonably sympathetic, I needed her to pull her weight as I was paying her and not working her too hard. I gently reminded her that being female came with its downside and she should consider herself fortunate that she didn't have periods, they'd been a nuisance ever since I was eleven.
I reminded Alice to talk with her mother regularly and checked with her that she was doing so. On one Sunday I heard her talking in the kitchen and realised she was on her phone. "I'm all right, bye," I asked if she'd been calling her mum and she blushed and said she had.
"Is it usually that short a call?" I asked a little surprised.
"I'm only calling her at all because you asked me to, she doesn't really care about me."
"How do know, she is your mother."
"Yeah, I know but she's only called me once since I've been here and that was to ask me if I minded if she cleared out my room because Jack's son was moving into it."
"Oh, how d'you feel about that?" I sounded like a counsellor.
"I don't care, she doesn't care about me so why should I care about her. You're more like a mother to me than she ever was, especially once she knew I was trans, she couldn't wait to get rid of me."
"I'm sorry." There wasn't much more I could say but I noticed despite her declared indifference to her mother, the tears in her eyes said something else.
"I hate her," she said quietly and then burst into tears. My mother appeared at this point and I waved her away. Being my mother she completely ignored me and walked over to Alice and hugged her.
"What's wrong, child?" Said my mother holding the weeping girl.
"Her mother has just given her old bedroom to her boyfriend's son," I informed my mother.
"Oh you poor girl," she said cooing as she held her.
They went and sat at the kitchen table, Alice trying to avoid messing her makeup while dabbing her eyes with a tissue. I felt there was little I could add to the matter as I'd told her several times she was welcome to stay with us as long as she wanted, on the proviso that it meant as my housekeeper.
I boiled the kettle, usually, a cuppa helps calm people down, so I busied myself at that, perhaps also feeling some discomfort by being told I was more like her mother than her birth-mother. I didn't want to have that happen but it seemed to be doing so despite my best intentions.
"There, there, you tell your gran all about it," said my mother and I nearly dropped the tea caddy.
"I'm sorry, Gran," sniffed Alice. I wasn't sure how I felt about what was happening but it wasn't reassurance. I don't want a daughter, especially one who was already an adult, well, sort of one. I'm a gay career woman, a businesswoman not a mother substitute. Alice was only here because I needed a domestic cum carer, it wasn't an act of charity, it was a contract of employment. I didn't need this nonsense from my mother. There had to be barriers between employees and family, having said that, in the months since Alice arrived the old bat has been happier than... well since my dad died. Dammit, this wasn't going as I intended at all.