This is a work of FICTION for ADULTS only. Do NOT read this if you are under 18 or if you are not an adult according to the laws of your state or country. Do NOT read this if you are offended by fantasies involving sexually explicit material.

Comments welcome to bethjac@hotmail.com

A series of stories with TG themes, dedicated to women, and to men who like women, and especially those who like to be women (which includes me!)

 

O is for Olivia... or ... 'Everything in the Garden is lovely'

by Bethany Jacques

 

"OK Oliver. Are you sure? REALLY sure?"

I looked at Gina. The question, THE question. But I was sure, after two years of vaguely thinking about it and then six months of researching and consulting, and seeing my doctor and then the therapist he referred me to and then two other therapists - I was sure. Bite the bullet, do it now. It had to be done.

"Yes. Totally sure."

Gina looked at me. She smiled. "I rather thought you'd say that, Oliver. OK then, where do we go from here? What sort of timescale? Are we talking weeks or months here?"

"Weeks really. I tried to work through it last night in my head. I reckon about a month to make all the arrangements, get things sorted out. I think I can do it in about four weeks time. That'll hit my birthday. That seems to me that would be an appropriate day to do it."

"Four weeks? I reckon you'll have problems there but I'll help, as much as I can."

"Thanks. Really good of you, Gina."

"Oliver. It's the least I can do. You're family after all, and you really have had a rough time since the divorce. And despite all that, Oliver, you have been a massive help to Jim and me over the past three months. What with little Annie arriving and you helping out at the shop and all the travelling and ferrying you've done. We really are so grateful. It's the least I can do, to help you this time."

OK, so I'd helped out. When the other local Garden Centre had suddenly closed down it had made sense for Jim and Gina to splash out, to get a loan to buy up lots of the stock at a bargain price. Which would have been fine except that Jim had just gone and got himself banned from driving for six months after getting caught rather drunk at the wheel. At least that had woken him up in a sense, he really had cut down his drinking massively. He'd realised that he had to. So I'd done a fair bit of the ferrying around at the time, carrying Jim and the stock the half-mile down the road.

Gina couldn't, or course, not easily, being eight-and-a-half months pregnant at the time. So everything had hit them at once, the driving ban, the Centre expansion, and of course Annie.

"Look, like you said, you're family. It's not your fault my brother got himself banned. It's his fault and at least he's got himself sorted now. Quite how he's developed a taste for apple-and-mango cocktail I don't know, but he seems to cope."

"Right Oliver. When? Today?"

"Sorry?" I asked, not really sure what Gina meant.

"I mean, I've got to get back for Annie in a few minutes. But I could come round again about four, for an hour or so. Do you want to get 'dressed' this afternoon? You've got to brave the High Street at some stage. We could get in half-an-hour's shopping before everything shuts. I think it would be a good idea. Now you've decided, I mean. Get things off to a flying start."

She was right. I realised how lucky I was to have such a sympathetic sister-in-law. Some women would have been freaked out but not Gina. OK, a bit strange about it at first but that was only natural. After all that she'd realised I was serious and been a big help, a sounding board for my feelings in-between my visits to the various therapists.

"OK then. About four, maybe?"

That very first day Gina was a star. She helped out with my 'look' and was so supportive when we went out. We only went into a couple of shops, one discount store and one small so-called 'boutique', and then into the supermarket. She had to get some stuff for Annie there anyway. She was very complimentary as I unpacked my things just before she left.

"Those three bras will do you fine for the moment. But you'll need more panties, and more tights too. You can't wear your sexy lingerie all the time, Oliver. And not stockings either, not ALL the time. Even though, I really do have to say this, Oliver, you've got gorgeous legs!"

I think I probably blushed.

"OK dear, I'd better get back to Jim and Annie. Bye - Olivia, is it?"

I stood there, surprised that she'd called me that. But - soon - it had to become the norm. I had to get used to it. Olivia. Wow.

Over the next four weeks things progressed. I progressed. More and more of the time I went out 'wearing a skirt', as it were. It was actually quite easy getting out of my little flat above the grocer's, out the back way obviously and then along the small alley onto the High Street. I got more used to being what I was, externally as well as internally. I even went to one of my therapy sessions in rather a short skirt, this was a few days after I'd gone as far as having my ears pierced. Two holes in each. One at the bottom, one a little higher up. My therapist was surprised. OK she'd seen me 'dressed' before but always when she'd asked me to dress and always for an evening session, when I'd been able to sneak there without really being noticed.

"So, Olivia. You're into shopping and going out en femme now? All the time?"

I'd explained that I wasn't yet dressed full-time, that I'd decided to go all the way from my own birthday a couple of weeks hence.

"And. Have you told your brother yet?"

She knew what I was going to say. I knew the day was coming soon. Of course Jim knew of my early history in that respect, when we'd both been teenagers at home together, but not what I'd been up to in the intervening years, during two failed marriages and then my illness and depression and losing my job and all that. And, of course, my big decision.

"OK then but you know you have to sort that one out soon. What about your sister-in-law? Gina, I think you said."

"Gina, she's just wonderful. SO supportive, she's helped a lot in helping me, choosing clothes and make-up and so on. She's been determined to find time to help me even though she's got Annie now."

At the end of that session, one week from my birthday, I began to think again just how to break the news to Jim. I'd been putting it off, of course. I mean, how do you break news like that to your brother? To big macho Jim, who really had no point of reference, what I was going through was so far from his own experience. He'd always looked up to me in a sense as his elder brother. I really was not at all sure how he was going to react to the news. But it had to be done.

Trust Gina, she'd been thinking about it too. After all he's her husband. But she'd come up with a plan. Not so much to surprise him, but to surprise me. On the day before my birthday she'd brought Annie round for the afternoon, to chill out a little away from the shop as it were. We'd decided I was going to try on a suit I'd bought, a deep blue outfit, very tailored, well-cut and to an extent rather figure-hugging. I'd got it in the same discount store we'd visited a few weeks earlier though I'd not dared ask to try it on in the shop.

"My word, Olivia. Now that looks - good. It really suits you. You've really got the figure for it, girl, good choice."

"Thanks."

"And nice earrings too, are they new? I don't think I've seen them before. OK then, it's decision time."

"Yes they are - what!?" I realised what Gina had said, and wasn't too happy about the tone she'd used.

"Come on then, Annie. Go to your Auntie Olivia for a moment while I sort out your stroller."

I stood there. With my niece Annie in my arms, trying to adjust her a little to fit round my somewhat enhanced 'boobs'. I was still using padding of course even though my heavier dose of hormones was beginning to kick in and to have a greater effect in that region. 'Auntie Olivia'. That was the first time Gina had said that, the first time she'd actually used those words.

"I've been thinking, Olivia. Come on, let's get Annie in the stroller and you can give me a hand down the steps."

I helped Gina to get Annie and her stroller down the steps, then wondered why. Gina had driven from the Centre to my flat, so surely Annie should be going into her car seat? "What did you mean, Gina? Decision time, you said."

"I've decided, Olivia, for you. You've enough going on tomorrow, you need to sort some of the issues today. So I'm going to drive back to the Garden Centre, the long way round, I need to pick up a local paper on the way. And you, Olivia my dear, are going to push your niece in her stroller up the High Street back to the Centre. It should take each of us about ten minutes."

Push Annie? Up the High Street?

"Olivia. You have to do this. What's wrong with pushing your niece up the street? OK, so you'll get looked at, but for all the right reasons. Quite a few people will probably think you're her mother. So cope with it. And by the time we both get there Jim will be back."

Jim? I'd been out-manoeuvred, by my sister-in-law. OK, so I was the one with the degree but there's never been any doubt at all which of the three of us was the most intelligent. Gina was just pain savvy, she could out-think Jim or I at any time and on almost any subject. And I was stuck. As Gina skipped round the car and started up and drove off, I had to do just what Gina had arranged, I had no choice. She'd deliberately dumped the responsibility of Annie onto me so that the only choice I had was to push her back to the Garden Centre. And of course deal with my brother when I got there.

I went back up to my flat very briefly to get my handbag and keys, then pushed Annie's stroller through my little gate and up the alley. Onto the High Street. It was wonderful! In one sense the most satisfying ten minutes of my life thus far. I was there, pushing my niece, along the street, in broad daylight and in full public gaze and with lots of people around. Actually I'd never realised before just how awkward it is dealing with a baby and the carriage and my handbag and getting us both along the path and up the street.

But people were - kind. That's the word for it. Moving out of the way. Looking down at Annie who slept through the whole trip. And they smiled, and said 'Hello', and muttered at the dormant Annie, all so - normal. OK so lots of them must have thought she was my daughter. But not once did anyone look at me in any sort of odd way. They all were totally accepting of the new 'me', of a woman walking up the High Street. Not one adverse glance, nothing. It was such a 'right' thing for me to do. Me. Auntie Olivia.

I reached the Garden Centre in the prescribed ten minutes and pushed Annie's carriage up the path towards the house door. I could see down the side of the house that Gina's car wasn't there yet. Jim's van was but that meant nothing. He couldn't drive it of course, whenever any deliveries were needed it was either Charlie or me who did them. Jim still had several months to wait until his 'sentence' finished. I realised - I was there on my own, well, with Annie, and dressed in a way he'd not seen since our teenage years. How would he react?

Gina's car pulled in behind me and she got out. "So, Olivia, how as that?"

"Wonderful" I said. My expression probably said more than the single word I'd used.

"Jim's still in the Centre, I think. Come in, I'm sorry about springing this on you but I really do think it's best this way. He'll be locking up soon, then we can surprise him."

I followed Gina into the house, again helping with Annie, and looked at my reflection, true tranny-style, in the long mirror in their hall. The suit did look good. So did the wig, it had taken me three attempts to find exactly the right length and colour, a deep-ish red and almost shoulder-length, I wanted to wear. I realised that in showing off to Gina earlier I'd chosen slightly higher heels than I really should have but - too late now. As we went together into the kitchen we both heard Jim let himself into the back door.

"Gina? Hello there. Get the kettle on, love, it's been a hell of a day. Kate quit at lunchtime, she got a text from her Dad. Her Mum's taken a turn for the worse so she's gone. Like that. I mean, I had to let her really, she's off to Oz tonight to see if she can ....."

Jim had been calling to his wife. He had moved from just inside the back door, where I imagine he'd been changing out of his working boots, he'd turned to greet his wife and- - seen me.

He'd seen his brother, that is. And not surprisingly he'd been rather shocked. He'd recognised me, of course but he'd still been shocked by just what he'd seen.

"Fucking hell, Oliver!"

"Jim! Language! Not in front of Annie!" Gina had exclaimed.

"What do you mean? I mean.... Oliver, what the hell is all this about?" He looked me up and down. I walked towards him, reaching out a hand to take his arm, looking down at my red-varnished nails against his working shirt, at the contrast with what I'd normally have seen in that situation.

"Jim. Sit down. There's something I have to tell you."

"There bloody is!"

So Jim and Gina and I sat down round their kitchen table while I went through the little speech I'd prepared for that situation. Except that obviously I went off the script several times, you can't rehearse that sort of thing, can you? Some of what I was saying he knew, but not all. About cross-dressing in my youth. And being unsure even the first time I got married. And the divorce, and then marrying Sarah, and getting divorced again. And then my decision about my gender.

"Jim, it's my birthday tomorrow. So all my life so far, basically I've been a failure I reckon, as a man that is. Jobs and marriages and even dating and so on, nothing has really worked out. And when I sought out therapy it all put what I've suspected into context. I'd thought of myself as a transvestite but really I'm transsexual. I'm a woman. And I decided several months ago to do something about it. To become me. Olivia."

"Olivia?"

"Yes. That's me. From now on."

Right then Gina had to go and feed Annie, OK she could have sat there with us. There's not the problem with breast-feeding these days, not with family at least, but I think she wanted to leave Jim and I on our own for a while.

"You siblings need some time to work things out" she said.

When both Jim and I looked rather awkwardly at her, she just smiled. "I can't say 'brothers' now, can I?"

So Jim and I continued our conversation. About half an hour later Gina came back carrying Annie. "Tea for anyone?"

"I think I need something stronger after this, I need a drink."

"Jim!"

"Jim!"

We said it together. "Look, I think a half is justified, don't you?" We had to agree, Jim had totally abandoned his hard drinking but he did treat himself to an occasional half of bitter, sometimes even a pint. But no more. He offered me a can too but I declined, settling for tea at the time.

Questions kept on cropping up, about where I'd been and where I thought I was going. I'd explained about the possible surgery, which was not impossible but I knew it would be a long way in the future if it did happen. About half an hour later I'd decided I'd had enough. But Gina wasn't finished.

"Jim. How long is Kate going to be away?"

"At least a couple of weeks. If she comes back at all. She's talked about it before, about staying out there with her Mum and Dad. This may well cause her to think about that again."

"So - you're stuck for staff. As of now, Jim, you're one short?"

"Sure."

"So - how about Olivia? She's not working now. And I know she's been thinking about a job soon, somehow. And she has retail experience. If you want someone in the bookshop area, like Kate was, she could be ideal."

I looked at Gina. Jim looked at Gina. Then Jim looked at me. "I'd never - oh fuck!"

"Jim!" It was Gina again.

"Sorry. But this whole thing, I mean, it's a bit stressful. OK, so I'll stop swearing, if you'll stop throwing shocks at me. OK?"

Then he grinned, widely. Gina and I looked at each other this time, wondering just what had flashed into Jim's mind.

"The last shock I had like this, love, was when you came home and told me you were pregnant."

I remembered their surprise, they'd been trying for ages and were just beginning to think maybe they were past it, maybe it wasn't going to happen.

"I remember I swore then. And you said something like 'it's perfectly normal Jim, hundreds of women have come home today and told their husbands they're expecting'. Well, how many men have got home today and found out their brother is a woman?"

I looked him. "One I should think."

"Quite" he said. "Hence the swearing. But, OK, I'm calm now. Anyway, this afternoon I was just wondering if - Oliver - wanted a job. In the centre."

We went on for a few more minutes, then Gina announced that there had been enough excitement for one night, and that she had to get Annie to bed. And she finished with 'Jim? I think you should walk Olivia home.'

So he did. I slid an arm through his, and we walked back down the High Street. "This is going to take some getting used to, Olivia. "

Just as we got to my flat I turned to Jim. "Look, this has been one hell of a day. You want me at the Centre at ten tomorrow? I'd better get my beauty sleep."

I looked at my brother as he was about to go. "Jim. Can I kiss you? I am your sister after all." I gave him a very brief peck on the cheek.

"Look, just don't make a habit of it" he said. He turned and began the walk back to his house. I went in and undressed. I'd bought myself a new nightie, really for the following night, my birthday night, after I'd done it. But Gina had forced the issue. I'd 'come out' a day early. So I wore my new, wispy, black nightie that night.

The next day, a Sunday morning when the Garden Centre opened later at ten, I walked once more the several hundred yards up the street. I decided to go in the house first, anyway the customer entrance wasn't open yet. I let myself it, and called out. "Gina? Jim? Anybody home?"

"In here, Olivia." It was Gina's voice from the living room. I went in, she was sitting on the sofa - bare-breasted, with Annie attached! "Nearly ready, here, have your niece for a minute or two while I clean up and get some clothes on." Annie was a good baby but, however good, the first few months are always difficult. Or so I'm told, neither of my own two marriages had resulted in offspring. I suppose that's part of the reason why neither actually worked out. However, taking Annie from her mother and hugging her over my shoulder, I realised that part, those parts, of my life were over. Time for a very fresh start.

"OK Olivia" said Gina returning after a couple of minutes. "I'll let Jim have her now, I'm going to talk to the staff. To introduce their new co-worker. Ready? Three may be fireworks!"

I looked out of the window at the back, towards the actual Garden Centre. Charlie was there, and Marie, and John, the part-time student. He'd increased his hours while Gina was otherwise occupied though he was still short of full-time. "Do you want me to come - now?"

"No, Olivia. Hang on a few minutes. Let me say something first." I watched my sister-in-law walk across towards the three of them, who were probably wondering what was going on, why the boss's wife wanted to speak to them. I couldn't see them properly, couldn't read their expressions or hear anything through the window, then Gina turned and beckoned me to join them. I went out of the back door, and walked across the path towards the 'staff' of the centre. I knew them all quite well of course, and Kate too since I'd done some casual work for Jim after his driving ban, and some before.

They all looked hesitant. Not surprising really. They were seeing someone they knew quite well really but clearly there was something different. Massively different. I didn't look like the boss's brother, not like the 'Oliver' they knew. I'd chosen to dress somewhat smart, somewhat formally, for my first day properly as 'Olivia', and indeed for my first day in my new job. I knew, because Gina had told me and because I'd had a good inspection of my reflection both the previous day and that morning, that the dark blue suit I'd worn that previous day suited me. So I'd worn it again.

Yes, I know, trannies don't like to wear the same outfit the next day, most TVs like to celebrate their femininity by constantly changing their feminine appearance. But, on my first day at work, I needed to be more practical. OK so I was working in the Garden Centre. But it was Kate's role there I'd be taking over. Basically the 'inside job' in the Centre, under cover, dealing with the till and the little bookshop there. So formal attire, smart suit, aiming to give a good 'image' to the centre. I'd chosen smaller earrings than the day before, two small rings in each ear, and a gold chain which sort-of matched. And I'd re-done my nails that morning, removing the deep red varnish I'd worn the previous day and applying a deep pink colour. 'Deep Coral' it is called. And tights, black tights, for practical reasons. There's a time and place for stockings.

I know trannies like stockings. I do too. But I'm not a tranny in the strict sense of the word. All the discussions with my therapists had clarified that one in my mind. Maybe in some sort of legal sense, as a 'male body in female clothing' I'd have been considered as a transvestite, as a cross-dresser. But from that day forward I regarded myself rather differently, as a transsexual. As a woman in a man's body rather than as a man in woman's clothing. I wanted, I needed, to be regarded as a woman.

I looked at the group of people in front of me, at my co-workers. Then, they surprised me. Gina looked at Marie, and lifted her eyebrows. She started, somewhat hesitantly, then the others joined in. "Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Olivia, Happy birthday to you."

"Hello Marie" I said, as gently and as 'sweetly' and in the feminine tone I'd managed to master after quite some practice. Actually, I didn't know what else to say but Marie, never short of a word, just looked at me to begin with. Then she took the two steps towards me.

"Olivia. Well, this is a surprise." And she leaned forward and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. "A big surprise. Welcome, Olivia, to the world, and I'm damn glad you're here. None of us wanted to cover for Kate."

Like me really, practical as ever. Charlie didn't kiss me, he just shook my hand, and John didn't even do that, he just smiled and said 'Hello'. Gina had stage-managed the introductions really, almost at once Jim appeared from behind us all with Annie in his arms to remind everyone that it was ten o'clock and that there were customers waiting. Charlie took the keys from him and went to open up. And I went to work.

Even before Gina managed to come and find me, to offer some help and advice in dealing with what Kate had left behind, I had it sorted. Kate is methodical, and the whole check-out and bookshop arrangement was set up to work like clockwork. Everything was to hand, everything in its place. There had been clearly some difficulties the previous afternoon when maybe Jim and Marie and Charlie, and perhaps John, had stepped in at different times.

But Kate's underlying efficiency made it clear how things should work. And so it was, at just after five-past-ten, 'Olivia' made her first sale. To an older woman, she paid cash so I didn't get her name, didn't have to do a card check or anything like that. It was just about half a dozen packets of seeds. In that way unremarkable, but serving her, doing the 'smiling' bit and taking her money and saying thank you and all that, actually doing all those things - as a woman - gave me a thrill.

The day continued. I served customers. Nearly all of them didn't know, and didn't make any comment on, my secret. I was to them just the woman at the checkout. I loved it! OK so, college degree and all, well-educated, maybe I should have expected more. But after all those years of problems with women, with marriages, with sexuality and all that stuff, it was such a relief to be doing what I wanted and, more importantly, being who I wanted.

Then just before closing time I spotted a potential problem. It was a guy I knew. At some time, a couple of months earlier, I'd delivered some stuff to his house. Bags of gravel, I think. And he'd been considerate when I'd had difficulties getting them round to the back of his house, gave me tea afterwards and a bit of a sit down and so on. We'd chatted for a few minutes about the cricket, on that day the Test had been building up to a close finish. I was sure he'd remember me. He did.

I'd noticed him a few minutes earlier talking to John outside. They had been in deep conversation about something or other. I'd assumed maybe they knew each other or maybe they were discussing something garden-related. But when he came towards the till, carrying his wire basket with several pots in it and some other packets, I could tell from the look on his face. He knew.

I was a bit worried. I had been doing pretty well so far, I thought. I'd had to ask Jim to help me out once near the end of the morning when one of the regular customers wanted to settle his account, and the details I got from the computer didn't match what he said he owed. When Jim had mentioned 'delivery' I'd realised the problem, the amount involved matched the delivery charge for large items even though the stuff sent had only been small, and very local too. I settled the problem to his satisfaction and got a very effusive 'thank you'.

And that was the first time, the very first time indeed, that I'd experienced the power of femininity. I've no doubt at all. The fact that his problem had been sorted by a well-dressed, smart, personable - woman - made a difference. I'm sure it did. He really did go over the top with his thank-you, I mean, you never do that, do you. Say a BIG thank you, that is, to somebody you've just paid three hundred pounds to.

But as the man Jim had been chatting to came towards me I foresaw a bit of a problem. I looked round, for Jim maybe. I could see him right over the other side of the centre. No time. I reached out my hand towards the basket as he placed it on the small counter in front of me. I smiled, made eye-contact.

"Hi" he said. It's really difficult to see just how anybody can put menace into one two-letter word. OK, maybe menace is too strong but there was something there. It wasn't just interest, it was some sort of ridicule, some sort of threat really. So unlike my earlier experience, when I had been pleased with the reaction I'd had to my femininity, this suddenly wasn't a pleasant experience. But I was there, in that situation, in a position I'd put myself into. I had to deal with it.

I didn't say 'hello again' or anything like that, didn't want to acknowledge that we'd met before even though he knew we had and so did I. I just said 'Good evening, sir' and got on with scanning the packets and items he had in his basket.

"Well then, you look different today."

I had to react. "I am different" I said, still being pleasant.

"You fucking are" he said.

Clearly it was what he said as well as the way he said it. You don't talk like that to a shop assistant, he obviously had some sort of other agenda. I looked out of the window, Jim was still otherwise occupied. I had to sort this myself. As I finished sorting his basket he handed over his charge card. I swiped it through the till. Maybe the best thing to do was to just carry on normally. Perhaps he'd be gone in a few minutes.

"I bet you're wearing sexy lingerie" he said. "And probably stockings as well. I bet you get really horny wearing them all day."

I looked at him. He was beaming widely. then I realised. Not only had he somehow seen through me, but he was getting off on it! He was getting excited at the thought of a man in front of him wearing sexy clothes. Lingerie? Nobody says lingerie in everyday language. He was a tranny-fancier. Probably spent all day or at least quite a lot of it looking at tranny pictures on-line, surfing for sexy images and masturbating. I could see it in his eyes, a tranny fancier and here he was - fancying me.

But he was fancying the wrong woman. Not me. I know some trannies like that sort of thing, I'd had fantasies myself in the past about guys and so on. But I'd come out of the other side of that. What I didn't want was any sort of interaction with people on that basis yet, let alone any proper relationship. Later just maybe but I had enough to deal with during the first few weeks of being a woman. I realised this man deserved to be put down in some way, he was assuming too much about what I was doing, and not at all realising what I was going through.

"Please check the amount and sign, Mr - Henderson" I asked, offering him the receipt. He signed it and handed it back. I'd decided while observing him that what was needed here wasn't total honesty, and wasn't just some sort of gay-related insult either. It had to be some sort of compromise.

"Thank you, sir" I said. Then, when he didn't move, I needed to say something. Quickly.

"Look. For your information, I'm wearing tights, and just ordinary undies. I'm transsexual, not just a transvestite. But if you want to meet a proper TV I could put in a word for you with Ronnie at Cesaro's. That's the gay club just off Hurst Street. You probably know it."

He was insulted. Macho guys like that don't like to think of themselves as gay in any way. But he was though. To an extent anyway. The fact that he knew, or thought he knew, about trannies and just something about the way he said it, not solely what he'd actually said. There was something 'gay' in there somewhere, I was sure. I smiled sweetly at him, wondering if he was going to reply. I could see him trying to come up with some sort of smart retort but he couldn't. He just grabbed his stuff and turned round, and he was off. 'One up for me' I thought.

That first day, indeed the whole of the first week, that guy was the biggest problem I had to deal with, by far. I felt pleased with the way I'd dealt with him. OK so maybe he'd not come back again, perhaps I'd lost the Centre a customer but I didn't care. One we could cope with. I'd been wondering just what effect there would be on the customers, with them having to look at and deal with a man in drag.

And it just went on, getting steadily better and better. Some of the customers had known be, albeit not well, as 'Oliver' and knew about my change-over. Usually they were the older, or more established rather, clients, people who'd known Jim and Gina for a while. Without exception they were supportive and even bought small gifts for me occasionally just as they had for Gina when she'd worked full time before Annie arrived. Some of course actually found out during their shopping that there was a transsexual working at the Centre. Of them inevitably, some avoided me, others looked out for me.

Even the 'curious' ones who wanted to satisfy their inquisitiveness by actually meeting a transsexual were nice about it. Not at all like that nutter on day one, I think I was just unfortunate there. Most of them, very nearly all in fact, were very pleasant, asking me about how I felt and what had made me want to change, and did I want a total sex-change, that sort of thing. We had some interesting discussions about sexuality and gender, occasionally rather heated I admit but I was OK with that. A few people didn't approve of what I was doing, me being a man and working and serving them while wearing women's clothes. But nobody was actually nasty about it.

It was almost two months after that memorable first day that something happened to change things. I was serving in the shop when one of the customers, a nice man maybe ten years older than me, came in and looked round. I recognised him, Mr Dunham, 'T Dunham' I thought, trying to picture his credit card as I'd swiped it before. Not exactly a regular customer, not every week, but he'd been in maybe three or four times. I couldn't actually remember seeing him in my time in the shop before that, before I started to work there full-time, that is.

"Morning Olivia" he said, handing over a couple of seed packets in my direction for scanning. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"It is, sure. Going to spend it in the garden, then?"

"I thought I might. I've got a bit of shopping to get before I can start, though. I think I'll get a coffee first though."

Jim had just had a coffee machine installed in a small room just off from the shop. Nothing special, he'd just put one of those tall machines in there with a small variety of 'flavours' - espresso, cappuccino, latte and so on. I've always favoured the latte myself, and just before Mr Dunham had arrived I'd been intending to take a break myself. I'd called Maria to take over for a few minutes and she was standing beside me as I'd done his transaction. Mr Dunham's, that is. I think she heard what he'd said though I don't believe there was anything intrusive in her suggestion I go there and then to my break. I'd suggested it a few minutes earlier, after all.

Which is how Mr Dunham and I ended up in the small 'arbour' Jim had equipped with the machine. And, being staff of course, I didn't have to pay, I knew the 'code' to press on the keypad to get a free go. Mr Dunham stood back in true gentlemanly fashion to let me go first. I didn't deliberately stand in front of him of course, well, it was a bit like at an ATM, I didn't want him to see the code. Anyway my latte arrived and I, whether I was allowed to or not, decided to treat him. Hell, he was becoming a regular customer, and you look after them, don't you?

"My treat" I said, keying the code in again. "What's your poison?"

"It's not that bad, is it?" he joked. "I've not tried this before. Another latte, I thought."

So I pressed the buttons and handed him his coffee.

"And waitress service too!" he joked again. I decided I liked him. We chatted on for a few minutes, just near the end of which I responded to a comment he'd made about a film he'd been wanting to go to see. It wasn't a come-on, honestly, that sort of thing just wasn't on my mind. And really I don't think he took it as one, he was just looking for an opening and I'd provided one - on a plate as it were.

"It's on at the multiplex next week. How about it, Olivia? Friday, maybe?"

And he stood there. Expecting an answer.

"I'm sorry, I can't, I .... Oh shit!!"

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking worried. Not so much because I said 'no', I think, more because of the way I'd said it. I was upset and it clearly showed.

"Pleas, Mr Dunham. It's not you, it's me. It's just that .... Oh shit!!"

I'd said it again. I'd sworn. I was clearly disturbed, Mr Dunham could see that. I looked at him, he was upset too still.

"Please, it's David. Look, Olivia, I didn't want to speak out of turn, it just seemed like a good idea."

I paused for a think. Gina had mentioned something like this. A week or so earlier when I'd said that I thought I had been coping well with the customers, especially those who obviously didn't know my secret, and even more especially the men, she'd asked me to sit down. Because she needed a serious talk. She'd made a really flattering comment about how I'm been managing and especially about how my 'look' had been changing. I really just thought I'd been getting more used to the routine, the getting up and showering and smoothing may face and doing my make-up, and then dressing appropriately for a day at work. Gina, apparently, had noticed more of a change.

"Olivia. It's simple really, you're becoming more of a woman. And it's not that surprising really, is it? I mean, the whole point is to spend some time being in this sort of situation so that you can find out where you want to go. In terms of - well - carrying on as a tranny, or giving up."

I was still thinking of the nice things she'd said, I smiled at her in appreciation of what she'd said. But before I could speak she butted in.

"Or going ahead with a sex change."

It's not that I'd never even considered it, it's just that there would be so many complications I'd pushed it to the back of my mind for the moment. Right then I was totally committed to looking and sounding and acting like a woman at work and going home and so on. Not socially, I really didn't have much of a social life. I'd been to the pub in the evenings a couple of times, once with Gina on her own, once with Jim as well. And that had been nice, being a woman in a different situation.

"Olivia. When you and I went to the 'Grey Goose ' a couple of weeks ago. A friend of ours saw us there."

"A friend of yours?" I couldn't see what she was getting at.

"Yes, Neil, he's a mate of Jim's from the Darts League. He asked about you?"

"About me? Why? Has he been to the Centre, I mean, is he a customer?"

"No. Never been there. He was just asking about - what did he say? - 'that good-looking girl you were buying a drink for, Jim'. That's what he said.

"Wow."

"Wow indeed. Jim put him off though, Neil has been married before and he really didn't think he'd be suitable. For you, he meant, Olivia. But the point is, Neil thinks you are attractive, and I'd bet quite a few other men who you serve at the Centre, and guys who see you in the street or in here, Olivia, they're interested too. You're going to have to deal with that, my girl, and soon rather than later I imagine. Some guy's not going to ask me or Jim. He's going to ask you out. So what do you say then?"

I knew she was right. OK so I hadn't realised just how much my general appearance and demeanour was becoming more feminine though I was delighted at what Gina had said. But I had noticed myself, in the mirror and occasionally in shop-window reflections. There was definitely progress in the right direction. And to be honest, twice in the past fortnight I'd noticed men looking at me with maybe some sort of appreciation. One was a customer, the other was a shop assistant in Woollies.

It had to be addressed. And David had brought the whole thing to the fore before I'd properly had time to think it through. I had to do something, right there and then. I looked at David. Really for the first time properly, you tend just to see people as customers most of the time until you begin to recognise them as regulars. He turned and began to walk away, maybe looking a little disappointed. I couldn't let him go like that but - was I about to make things worse?

I couldn't leave the till so I had to call out, before he got too far and I'd have to shout. "David!"

He did hear me and turned round, then got the message that I wanted to speak to him. He didn't smile though, my body language probably told him I hadn't changed my mind.

"David, I'm so sorry, I am really grateful, thanks for asking me. It's not you, not any sort of problem, that is. It's me, I'm the problem. Oh, no, this is coming out all wrong."

I took a step closer to him, not exactly to whisper but to speak to him quietly. A couple of people were looking, they'd no idea what but clearly something was going on here.

"David. It's me. I'm not an ordinary woman. I'm a transsexual."

There. Said it. For the first time outside close family and medical people and so on, the first time in a sort-of social situation, I'd 'come out'. I actually felt good. A mini-wave of relief shuddered through me as I looked at David to try to gauge his reaction.

"Right. You mean, well, you mean you're really a man?"

This I'd rehearsed. I'd had a mental script in my mind, exactly what I was going to say when something like this happened. The script idea had seemed so important to me, so that the words were well-chosen and thought about, so that they would be clear and there would be no ambiguity or anything, no room for misunderstanding. But the script had just gone from my mind. I got the message across, hoping I wasn't saying anything I shouldn't have.

"Well, in a sense, I suppose, yes. I am biologically male but I'm living as a woman, working here and so on. I've always wondered if I was really a woman in a man's body, and now I'm doing something about finding out."

David looked at me, rather oddly though that's not really surprising, is it? After all, having decided to ask someone out he'd just been told by the woman he'd wanted to take out that she was really a man. Not something that happens every day, is it? I suppose he took it rather well really, he didn't make a fuss.

"Right. I'm glad you told me. OK. Thanks, Olivia."

He turned and walked across the yard towards the gate. I looked after him. I think I could probably have not told him, and gone to the pictures maybe, but that wouldn't have been right. He'd had to know. As I walked back towards the counter to take over the till again, Gina came across towards me.

"Well then, Olivia, what was going on there then? Something, obviously. You seem a little disturbed maybe."

"He asked me out."

"Wow! I told you, something like this was bound to happen. Actually he looks rather dishy, doesn't he? So, what did you say?"

I told her about feeling I had to tell him, to own up to my secret. We spent a couple of minutes discussing the rights and wrongs of the situation, and I tried to get my head round what Gina had just aid. 'Dishy', she'd said. Did I think so? Was I in some way attracted to David? Well, thinking about it, maybe I was. I'd come so far in passing as Olivia, in acting and speaking and moving as a woman, maybe I was making progress in thinking as a woman. Actually, yes, I did like him.

I looked at Gina. "I told him. I had to, really, I mean, I couldn't go out with him, could I?"

"Why not?"

"Well - because - ... Hell, Gina, because I'm not a proper woman. I had to tell him, I mean, I felt great when he asked me, but that was because he didn't know. I had to tell him."

Gina looked at me. She took my hand, and led me away from the till section, to the small seating area set up round the water features we had for sale. It was quiet there apart from the sound of the two or three pumps in operation for display purposes and the tinkle-tinkle of the water from the small waterfalls.

"Look. Olivia. You used to be Oliver, remember. But you've come a long way from there. So maybe you've got something different between your legs from most women, damn near all of us come to that. But in appearance, and manner, and behaviour, and so many other things that matter, you're a woman now."

"OK, OK, thanks for that. But David asked me out. And when I told him he just walked away."

"Well what do you expect my dear? You must have given him quite a shock. So maybe it wasn't to be this time, but you've got to stick at it. One of these days, if you tell a guy what you have to tell him, it'll be different. Maybe not today, not tomorrow, it will happen. You've just got to be ready, Olivia. That's what life is about, for a man or a woman. Being ready."

Which was probably the most philosophical comment I'd ever heard from my sister-in-law. She was right, of course. Maybe one or two of the men who found out would be nutters or perverts, bigots like that chap I'd met in my first week in the job. In my first week as 'Olivia'. But one day, possibly. It sounded to me like a fairy-tale, 'one day my prince will come'. I was under no illusions though, it wasn't going to be like that. No prince. Just a man, or maybe even a woman, I hadn't discarded that possibility totally though I thought it unlikely.

Even if it didn't happen, I was more than prepared for the alternative. Totally ready to spend the rest of my like on my own, as 'Olivia' of course, to grow old on my own, as a spinster as they say. An old maid. An old woman. What a thought. And how on earth had my mental meanderings got to such a place sat there in the pool area with Gina? I looked at her.

"Gina?" Her attention was elsewhere, she was looking past me.

"Gina? What's wrong?"

I turned and looked. Suddenly I wasn't concentrating on Gina but I could hear her voice beside me. It seemed distant but that's maybe because my mind was elsewhere.

"Well, well Olivia. Looks like you've got a visitor."

I was looking across the planting area - towards David Dunham, who was walking towards the till section. He saw Gina, he saw me, and he turned and walked towards us. He looked determined. He seemed intent on something, he was going to make sure whatever he'd decided to do got done.

"Hello Olivia. I've been thinking."

"See you later" said Gina, turning and almost running back to take over from Maria who must have been fed up, I'd only asked her to cover for me for five minutes.

"Hello" I said. That was all. I'd almost thought of something else to say when David continued.

"Listen, Olivia. I heard what you said. It surprised me. But I shouldn't have walked away like that. Look, Friday, how about it? The cinema, I mean, would you really like to go?"

I should have thought about it. I should have quizzed him to find out exactly what had made him change his mind. I should really have quizzed him to discover just what his motives really were, just why it was that he thought going out with a transvestite was a good idea. But I didn't think.

"Yes" I said.

Gina was amazed when I told her, maybe from what I'd just been saying she'd been thinking that this David guy wouldn't appear again and she was trying to advise me on how to deal with the situation when it happened again. But she did actually, after he'd gone, call him 'dishy' again. Actually I was beginning to agree with her. She offered all sorts of advice on how I should dress and what I should do on my very first 'date', but I had ideas of my own.

I really didn't want to push things too far. Really David was going on a date with a guy, and I didn't want to freak him out by going out-and-out tranny on him. So I wore a smart, pretty traditional, sweater and skirt and three-inch block heels, attractive but not over the top. The same outfit I'd worn when the Mayor had come to collect a tree from the Centre for some sort of ceremonial planting and I wanted to look smart and attractive maybe, but didn't want to attract too much attention.

The date went well. David behaved himself and so did I. He picked me up from the flat right on time and I revelled in the first-time thrill of walking through the cinema foyer holding onto his hand. And no, we didn't sit on the back row and fool around or anything. We just watched the film, just a little hand-caressing, and then called in at a cafe on the way back. And at the end of the evening outside my front door, what I knew could be an embarrassing moment, I just kissed him goodnight. Quickly, rather methodically really.

"David, thanks so much. This has really been important to me, you can't know how much."

"Good. I'm glad. It was good for me too. Good film, good company. Yes. I enjoyed myself."

I kissed his cheek again.

"OK Olivia. How about tomorrow? Maybe just go out for a drink, nothing heavy you understand."

I paused for a moment. Another date? Already? Hell, why not? "Yes. I'd like that."

Gina of course was desperate to find out the next morning how I'd got on, and wanted a blow-by-blow account of what had happened. I gave her the basic outline of course, not the detail, it must have been pretty obvious that things had worked out pretty well.

"So when are you seeing him again?" she asked.

"Tonight."

"Wow. He's a fast worker." And this time I did listen to what she had to say about what I should wear and so on. I'd told her we were just going out to a pub for an hour or so, David was in London much of the day visiting family but he was determined to get back on time so we could just spend an hour or so together.

It probably took me longer to get dressed and made up that evening than the actual date lasted but it was worth it. And again, no, there was no funny business. We just sat together in the pub, quite a lot of friendly contact but nothing intimate. And we talked. Probably for nearly two hours altogether, about our lives and how we'd got to where we were.

"I must say, Olivia, after what you've told me, my own life must seem rather humdrum. Lisa and I were together nearly twenty years, and there was nobody at else in my life while she was still with me. OK so she was pregnant when we got married but that wasn't so unusual in the seventies. And Lee and Fiona were great kids. Very supportive too when Margaret decided she'd had enough of me. I know she'd been seeing someone else but it's still a bit of a shock when that sort of thing happens."

"You poor man" I said, laying a hand on his and stroking it a little before I properly realised what I was doing. Really, I think, it was a basic, sympathetic, and rather female, action. I moved my hand away and took another sip of my drink, feeling a little embarrassed.

We chatted on until almost closing time, then David walked me home again. And once more I said goodnight with a quick kiss on the cheek, this time accompanied by a tight squeeze of his hand. I wondered if he was going to ask me out again, the next night even.

"Look, Olivia, I really have enjoyed myself. It's so good to be able to talk like this, and to a woman like yourself, well, somehow it just seems right. For the moment anyway, I'm not about to propose or anything like that. It's just that - well, right now - it seems a good thing to do. Am I making any sense here?"

"Yes you are. I feel sort-of similar, really."

"Good. But I'm busy this weekend I'm afraid, otherwise I'd ask you out again. Lee and his wife are coming to see their old Dad."

"OK. I see. And you'd rather I wasn't around, of course."

"Yes. Hell, sorry, that sounded awful. But not yet, Olivia, not yet. This is something very new for me and I wouldn't want to keep any secrets from them. If you see what I mean."

"You mean you'd want to tell them about me? About me being trans-sexual, that is? I imagine your son might freak at the idea really. Not what you expect really from your father."

"Yes. I think he would. But I think we both need time. And next week I'm in London again until Friday afternoon. So. How about next Friday. There's a tribute band on at the Star and Garter, they're usually pretty good does."

"Well, I don't know ..."

Somehow the idea of going to the Star seemed rather high-profile for me. I'd kept things pretty quiet during the first few months of my existence as Olivia, going out in such a public arena seemed a bit over the top. But I promised to think about it and give him a ring in London later in the week. I finished with yet another quick kiss and went inside. Things really were changing, and fast. I realised I'd better get my feet back on the ground pretty quickly. I was due to visit my therapist again the following Monday evening and I had a lot to tell her, about the practicalities of going out on dates with David, and about what I'd been feeling too about the whole experience.

As I began to get ready for bed half an hour later, I looked in the mirror. At myself, at Olivia, at the woman I was becoming. I'd dressed quite conservatively for both dates, for a tranny that is. Tight-ish top and skirt, not to tight or short, and I'd been rather subdued with my make-up, not over-doing things at all. I took off my top and skirt, and stood there in bra and panties. Yes, I really was becoming more and more of a woman. I slipped off my wig and brushed my own hair back, and round the sides of my face. It was by then nearly long enough, I'd only had it very slightly trimmed a couple of times in the previous six months, maybe more.

Suddenly the thought of going out to the 'Star' seemed a good idea. I could even have my hair done .....

Inevitably, again, Gina wanted all the details the next day. And again inevitably I told her some of them. She'd seen my body language though, it must have been so obvious that I'd been having fun, a new kind of fun, in being Olivia with David. "You really like him, don't you?"

"Yes. I do."

"And? Come on, tell me more. I am effectively your sister-in-law, after all, and probably your best girl-friend. So tell, what's really going on?"

"Well. Nothing really special."

"Nothing special?" Gina hissed quietly, looking up to make sure there were no customers within hearing distance. "Your David has been dating a guy in a frock, really, OK then a skirt. But it's not exactly your conventional date, we both know that. I'm just wondering what's in it for him."

I began to explain about David's wife leaving him, and how he had thought twice about taking me out once he'd found out. And how he'd decided to give it a go, how he'd been attracted by the idea of a different kind of woman.

"It's not just that, Olivia. I saw the way he looked at you. I know he'd not really got to know you then but really, he did give me the impression that he was attracted to what he saw. Anyway, what next?"

I just managed to tell her about David's family coming to visit that weekend, and that he'd invited me out again to some sort of concert at the 'Star' the following Friday.

"Oh no, not Friday! Shit!"

Then she realised there was a customer behind her, and she slunk away a little upset with herself. But something had disturbed her, obviously. She did manage to tell me later, that she and Jim had been hoping I'd baby-sit that night because they wanted to go out together, to the 'Star'.

"It's the 'Papas and Mamas'. We saw them about six months ago, that was at the Star too. They put on a good show."

OK, tribute band. But Jim and I had always been fans of the original group when we'd been young. I remembered that he and Gina had raved about the concert when they had seen the band earlier that year. So I was certainly not available for baby-sitting with Annie that evening. A couple of days later Gina did tell me that one of the sisters of a girl at her hairdresser's had been lined up in my place. She did understand why.

"Anyway, my dear, it's important, isn't it? Third date. You know what that means, well, it usually does."

I did. Third date. I'd been thinking of nothing else ever since David had asked me. Third date. So I was a different sort of girl, not the usual sort. But why should I be different? Third date. I'd planned my outfit. I'd planned the evening. And I'd wondered about the night. Whatever David had in mind, if anything, I wanted to be ready for anything. My mind skipped back, prompted by Gina's comment about her hairdresser.

I'd been being Olivia for several months by then, wearing a wig to try to present a more female appearance to the world. But I'd been careful to take care of my own hair underneath the wig, washing and conditioning it a little more often than perhaps necessary and going along to the same hairdresser as Gina for an occasional very slight trim to keep the ends in good condition.

OK, for my third date with David, I was ready for the big step. Karen knew about my 'secret' of course, a woman has very few secrets from her stylist and I'd kept her informed about how things had been going in my transition in my regular visits to her salon. She'd given me a special slot, I totally understood why, very early on a Monday morning so as not to in any way disturb her other clients. OK so it wasn't a Monday, and it wasn't very early in the day, but when I'd explained to Karen what I was considering she'd been full of enthusiasm. Which is why we were both rather excited on that Friday, the day of THE date, when I sat in one of her styling chairs early in the afternoon.

I'd asked Jim for the afternoon off. I'd realised Gina knew me even better that I thought she did when he told me he'd been warned by her I was likely to ask for time off to prepare for the evening. He'd said 'yes' of course. I think Gina had told him in no uncertain terms that since it was so important to me he'd really have to.

"Right, Olivia." Karen stood in front of me, comb and scissors in hand. "The usual very slight trim again, yes? And then - well - I think it's a good idea. This man of yours is going to get the thrill of a lifetime. So, how are you going to manage - you know?"

Which was in context a very personal question really. I didn't want to go into any details with her, hell, some things are private. And to be honest though I knew what I wanted, what I'd dreamed about, I wasn't at all sure exactly how things were going to work out. With David, that is. So instead of answering her question I just went on a bit about David himself, and how he'd asked me out in the first place, stuff like that. While Karen got on with the task of doing my hair. No wig this time, this was going to be really me.

I rather sneaked back home afterwards, feeling to an extent rather exposed without the security of my wig. I had a bite to eat, then stripped, showered, depilated - you know the sort of thing. And just before eight I was sitting in my kitchen, rather nervously, waiting. Waiting for David. He was late, but just a couple of minutes. He knocked on the door instead of ringing the bell, a little 'signal' we'd worked out so that I'd know it was him. I opened the door.

"Hello, come in. Nearly ready."

I stood there, expectantly. I'd gone to a lot of trouble, though not just for David of course, for me as well. I knew I was about to be inspected in public by lots of other people at the 'concert', even though it was only in the function room of the 'Star'. But it was so very important to me to look good, for me and for him. And right at that moment, when he came in and looked at me, well. I NEEDED compliments. I NEEDED to be told I looked good, and convincing, and attractive even, I needed to know David would be pleased to be my escort that evening in the pub. He looked at me.

"Cripes, Olivia. I mean - wow! You look sensational I never thought - oh shit, I'm saying this wrong. Is that a different wig? Hell, of course it is. Unless ..."

"David, this is me. My own hair, I thought it was about time and I wanted to do something special. What do you think? The whole thing, I mean, is it too - tranny? If you know what I mean."

He took two paces towards me, reaching out to take my right hand and hold it gently. He put his other arm round my waist and pulled me closer, gently touching his lips onto mine briefly. I trembled. My first proper kiss, on the lips, with a guy.

"I don't kiss trannies" was all he said. Then he tugged me in the direction of the door. "I passed the 'Star' on the way, we're liable to have trouble parking and I am a bit late, we'd better get there quick. Besides, I need to show you off."

I grabbed my bag and slung the strap over my shoulder and allowed myself to be led out to his car. In fact the traffic around the pub had calmed down a bit when we got there, and we didn't have to park too far from the venue. So it was just before half past when I strolled, happily, confidently, full of the joys of spring, clasping David's hand again, towards the large glass-fronted double doors leading into the Star and Garter's function room. It was by coincidence that we wended up approaching the doors at almost exactly the same time as Jim and Gina. I didn't see them at first, but I did hear Jim's voice behind us as we moved towards the entrance.

"Olivia? Wow, is that you? My God, you look drop-dead gorgeous! You look fantastic, sis."

I turned towards them, glimpsing my reflection in the double-doors as I did so. I knew it had to be right, the 'wrapping' I mean. The superficial bits of me, the clothes and the hair and the make-up and so on, and Jim's expression - and Gina's - confirmed I'd got it right. I'd chosen quite high heels, black of course, black patent stilettos, maybe 5" heels to try to enhance the femininity of my legs.

The black stockings helped of course, as did the tight leather mini-skirt to show off my thighs. I'd spent quite some time deciding on which top to wear, ending up with a shiny gold blouson which plunged quite some way to reveal my ample bosoms. I'd picked gold earrings and necklet too, and several gold-effect rings. I'd probably taken even more time over my make-up that day than any other day when I'd dressed en femme, but it wasn't that which caused both Jim and Gina to stare.

"My God, Olivia. You've gone blonde!"

Indeed I had. I'd decided that if I was going to do without the wig from now on I ought to consider doing what many other women did - use my hair as a fashion accessory. It really was getting long by then, basically a page-boy style but quite a bit longer, and I'd decided to have my very first proper hair-do. So I'd asked Karen what she'd thought, and she agreed. I really did feel good standing there with Jim and Gina and David waiting to go in. It had worked. Well, or course it had, I'd trusted Karen's opinion and she'd been right. Blonde suited me.

Gina and Jim had obviously decided they weren't going to hang around with David and me once we got in, and went off to join some of their other friends. David got me a drink and we found a couple of seats not too near the stage, and we sat. And we held hands, and chatted again, and had our drinks and chatted some more, it was noticeable before too long that David was getting distinctly friendly. I didn't mind of course, but his hands were beginning to wander just a little bit. I was being careful with my gin-and-tonic intake though, however the evening was going to go I wanted to remember every single minute of it.

I knew there was liable to be one major problem, and it surfaced on about the third song. As one of the guitars began a very familiar riff, David stood up and grabbed my hand.

"Come on, girl, let's dance."

He'd assumed I'd want to. Quite a reasonable assumption too, but I had my doubts. As the group got into 'Hotel California' - they did some other songs as well as M and P oldies - I ended up swaying on the dance floor with my partner. I'd been expecting it, and dreading it. Because I just couldn't dance. Never could. In the old days when Jim and I had gone out on the town together or with mates, he'd been there leaping round and I'd just bobbed up and down, wondering why I couldn't do the same.

And it was the same there, I was jigging to the Eagles beat but not putting on much of a show at all. Almost before the song ended I'd led David off the floor and back to our seats, apologising for not having a sense of rhythm and for not being able to match his own efforts. It stayed that way too, the both of us sitting together and enjoying the music, until almost the end of the concert.

Then the intro to 'California Dreaming' hit our ears, and David once again wanted to lead me onto the dance floor. I agreed, time to have another stab at it. And it was different. I know some of the reasons why though I'm not so sure I understand them. The tempo was different though I'd failed in my attempts to dance to upbeat numbers in the past. But the combination of that and the different 'feel' to my body in some way made the difference.

I was dancing in high heels, and somehow it seemed easier. That and the tight skirt, and the bouncing breasts, and the longish swinging hair. And somehow the encouragement from David and from quite a few of our fellow dancers when they noticed a large-breasted blonde moving round on the floor with them. All those things somehow combined, and I was bopping and moving with the best of them, totally delighted that for the first time for some reason I could join in and do myself, and David, justice.

And when they did 'Dancing in the Street' next, not the Jagger/Bowie re-make and not the original, I know, but the Mamas and Papas arrangement which I really did like, well, we just took off. For three minutes I was shaking everything I'd got, moving and grooving, all that, I was having a wonderful time. And then - the last song - 'Dedicated to the One I Love'. Well, I was in heaven. David's arms were round me, my cheek was against his, we swayed to the music as the Mama Cass singer belted out the love song. Wow! I knew I'd made it.

Three quarters of an hour later, David and I were standing on the front step of my flat. I'd just opened the door, but I didn't want to go in. Not yet. I didn't want the evening to end.

"Good time, Olivia?" he asked.

"Totally" was my reply.

And I kissed him. On the lips. Hard. And long. And with some feeling. Thanks to David I'd enjoyed my very first evening out in company as a woman, well, my first with such exposure as a woman. It really had been probably the best night of my life, and I just didn't want it to end. We kissed again.

"So. What's it like, dating a transvestite?" I asked.

"I don't know. I'm dating a woman."

We kissed again, totally up-front French kissing, and for the first time, yet another first, I felt a hand sliding up my thigh, inside my skirt, grasping my bare cheek, pulling my body close to his. And I didn't pull away. I was still missing one experience as a woman.

"David. What would you say if I asked you in - for a coffee, maybe?"

He smiled. "Are you asking me?"

"Yes."

He came in.

I woke up late the next morning. Very late. When I opened my eyes and peered at the bedside clock, it showed - late. In fact it showed twenty minutes after I'd been due at the Garden Centre! I flung the bedclothes off, and then noticed that I was only wearing a bra, and that I was alone. I padded across towards the bathroom, there was a hand-written note on the dresser.

'O. THANKS!!! You made this guy VERY happy. I'll be in touch. Soon. D. XXX'

I looked at the note, I was obviously pleased but I was in a hurry. Less than half an hour later - a record for me, but I had still realised I had to take care with my appearance. I had a responsibility to Gina and to Jim, as well as to myself, to look good enough to pass, basically to do my job convincingly as a woman and not cause them problems. Which is why it had taken me twenty-five minutes instead of maybe ten to shower and dress and leap into the car and drive just up the road.

I got out of the car, turned to lock it, and stood still for a moment, looking at my reflection in the big shop window. OK, I know, typical tranny behaviour. But I wasn't just looking at the woman in the dark denim mini-skirt I could see. I was thinking about the previous night. About just how good it had felt to be with a man, with David. About the look on his face when I began to move from the kiss and cuddle to the fondle and grope. About his body, the first time I'd seen a totally naked man in that sort of situation.

But I was late, very late. I dashed in the door and skipped past the display area towards 'my' till. Gina was there, filling in for me. And she wasn't alone. My therapist was there too!

"Oh hell, Gina, I'm really so sorry, being late I mean, really very sorry. I just woke up late."

I stopped. The two women in front of me were both staring. I wondered for a moment if I'd done something dreadfully wrong, messed up my mascara or my lipstick or something. Then I realised, they'd been talking about something before I'd arrived and I'd interrupted them. I paused, waiting for the telling-off which never arrived. Gina looked towards Martina, then back towards me, then again at my therapist.

"This should look good on her record, Martina. Don't you think so. 'Late for work. Reason - lost my cherry the night before'."

"Best excuse I've ever heard. So, Olivia, how was it?"

They both looked towards me but Gina just couldn't keep a straight face.

"Olivia, my darling, if you could see the look on your face. OK so you might have had to hurry your make-up, you might like to go and freshen it in a minute or so, but - you look SO smug. You needn't be really, you're not the first woman ever to get herself fucked. So. How was it?"

And she just hugged me. And all three of us almost collapsed into a hugging tearful mass. It was Martina who pulled herself away, probably realising she ought to be a little more professional about this.

"Right, Olivia. You've clearly made a huge step towards womanhood last night. We'll maybe chat about it in our next session. I really just called in briefly to have a word with Gina, to see how she thought you were getting on. It's clear I didn't really need to, did I? So tell me, what's he like?"

I couldn't really describe him in a hurry, I just grinned inanely at her. "Rather dishy, really."

Martina had to leave, she just gave me a quick hug before she did so.

"Olivia, dear, we WILL talk about this next week. I'm SO happy for you, he's a very lucky man."

And from behind me I heard a familiar voice. "I am, I know."

I turned and grinned - at David. I'd no idea why he was there, I knew he should be at work which I'd assumed was why he'd had to dash off and leave me that morning. "Sorry ladies, but I just couldn't keep away."

I looked towards him, then towards Gina and Martina who were obviously expecting me to say something. I was almost lost for words. "Er - David. This is Martina, my therapist. Martina, this is David. My boyfriend."

Boyfriend. That word. It sounded SO good.

 

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