Tranford Tales - Shelley

CHAPTER 1

"It's a boy!" the midwife said.

"No, it can't be!"

"It definitely is," she insisted. "I'm a trained professional, and I know a pecker when I see one."

"But it was going to be a girl!" I protested.

"I'll get a second opinion. Doctor is that twopence or threepence?"

"Definitely threepence," she responded. "And he's lovely!"

They put him in my arms, and I loved him.

After the ultrasound I had been told I was expecting a girl, so we'd got clothes and made ready. It didn't matter. He was mine. I was a mother at last.

That had not been what I was thinking of when Nat had his way with me in a lorry cab nine months before. I didn't want it, but he insisted, so I suppose it was technically rape. It just worked out all right.

I liked Nat. I probably would have let him eventually, but with precautions. And it would have been nicer to have my first sex somewhere else than in the cab of a lorry.

I was just a teenager. Not very clever, not very pretty, no real expectations, looking for a job.

But all of a sudden I was going to be a mother! And he did the decent thing and married me, so I was Mrs Jones when I gave birth. (I think some pressure had been applied, but I don't know the details, and didn't care.)

That was my career sorted. I was going to be a mother and have lots of babies. We got a council flat, which was nice.

Nat bought some tiny football boots for the baby, and we named him Peter after Peter Shilton the England goalie. I was going to call my little girl Shelley, and Mum had made some little things with the name embroidered on. I kept them for the daughter I would get next time, or the time after.

Only there wasn't a time after that. Nat wouldn't let me. He insisted on contraception and eventually persuaded me to get sterilised.

Mum said it would be safer if he got his tubes tied instead of me, considering he was a lorry driver, and she doubted he would be totally faithful.

It wasn't a great romance, but Nat wasn't a bad husband or father. Sex was OK, but not the same after I was sterilised. I really felt the loss.

It was all worth it for my lovely baby boy.

He had beautiful golden curls, until Nat got fed up with people thinking he was a girl and I had to go to the hairdresser. Little Peter cried and cried, and I did a bit myself.

Nat bought him a train set when he was far too young, as men do, and took him to football matches, but he never really showed much interest in sport. He was just a nice gentle boy, who did well enough at school.

Of course, Nat was away a lot, so it was mostly me and Peter, playing together, going out to the park or shopping, and I loved being a mother. I had to work, of course, to make ends meet, so he was sometimes in a nursery, then school.

It got so that Nat was around less and less, and at no notice. I was sure there was another woman, possibly more. He more or less turned up, expecting sex and food, and gave us very little money. Sometimes he would splash out and order a takeaway for what we spent in a week.

It got easier when Peter left school and started working, but then there was something new.

CHAPTER 2

"I feel like a girl," he said. "I always have."

It was a shock. Had I done it somehow, by the way I treated him? Had my subconscious wish pushed him somehow? I asked if it was my fault.

"No," he said. "If anything, you might have tried too hard to treat me like a boy. Nat just did without thinking, and you went along with it."

(He had stopped saying 'Dad' a while ago. It was just Nat.)

"It wasn't about clothes or dolls, though that would have been nice. It's just that in my head I knew what boys and girls were like, and I was a girl. I can't explain it."

He was crying.

"I saw some of the little clothes with Shelley on them, and guessed you were hoping for a girl. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I disappointed me!"

I held him to me as he sobbed on my chest.

There was no long-term plan. We just agreed that I would call him Shelley in private.

But I couldn't help it. I bought him some panties with little hearts on them. I mean, I bought her some, and she loved them. Not sexy, just cute. We bought a selection together. No thongs, just proper full briefs, but with little bows or a bit of lace or patterns. For a girl to wear, even at work.

She still had a pecker, of course, but I thought she still looked nice in them.

And I don't think it was a very big pecker. I thought it was cute.

I got her a skirt at home, and she was so pleased, wearing it with a nice top. No bust of, course, but we were not pretending she was a woman, only a girl -- the daughter I should have had.

As her hair got a bit longer, I put some ribbons in, sometimes, little girl style.

She was a bit embarrassed when I bought her a pink teddy bear, but took it to bed all the same.

We had a nice day choosing curtains, wallpaper and paint for her bedroom and it was lovely to work with her on it. There were new bedcovers, of course. Pink was there, of course, but I thought it was quite tasteful.

Then I painted her nails and toenails pink to match!

She had to remove the fingernail polish before going to work, of course.

Money was still tight, of course, so we didn't go mad. We looked in charity shops and got a few things, so she could dress up at home.

And like any mother and daughter we spent hours putting makeup on each other and laughing at the results.

Eventually she could do a reasonable everyday makeup herself, so did it quite often. She had to shave more often than me, of course, but concealer worked quite well. Just at home.

Not when Nat was favouring us with his presence, of course, and there were a couple of near misses when he arrived without warning, but Shelley managed to hide herself quickly enough to change.

Nate had pretty much lost interest in his son. Our place was there for food, sex and clothes washing.

So me and Shelley practised being mother and daughter, and were both pretty happy.

CHAPTER 3

It was a shock. Nat was charged with rape. It was a girl not much older than I had been, and a virgin like me. She was six months gone when it came to court. I listened with a sinking heart to the evidence. There was very little doubt. It sounded very like what had happened to me, maybe a bit stronger, but what they would definitely call rape these days. Things have changed in twenty years.

His lawyer made out that a randy young hitchhiker had been eager, but was now lying.

I was called to be a character witness, and said he had been a good husband and father. His defence lawyer made him out to be an angel, but he was all right. He never beat me or Peter. He never forced me to have sex. He had been a bit insistent sometimes, but never forced. And he should have given us more money.

The prosecuting lawyer started nicely, then suddenly started asking about our first sexual encounter, and I got a bit flustered, so it may not have gone well.

Then I was asked why we only had one child, and he got me to admit I wanted another but Nat had stopped me.

The victim called out from behind her screen "You can fucking well have this one, then! I didn't want it!"

She was told off, and I cried and was excused.

Peter comforted me, then there were the closing speeches and we had to wait for the verdict.

In the relatives' room, Peter held me, and whispered in my ear.

"Could we?" he said. "Have her baby? It would be my little sister or brother. I'd love to help you with a baby. I used to play with dolls in the nursery. I was disappointed Nat wouldn't let me at home."

On a terrible day, it was such a wonderful thought. Another baby at last! And it was Nat's, so family for both of us in a way.

Nat's lawyer agreed to have a word with his opposite number.

He was found guilty, and two weeks later sentenced to six years imprisonment. The lawyer said it could have been twice that but for me, and with good behaviour, Nat could be released on licence in three.

I felt all right about it. I had helped him like a loyal wife, but you can't let that sort of thing go unpunished.

I was approached by the girl's parents, Dan and Sarah. They were a lot older than me, almost as old as my parents. They would take the baby themselves, of course, but she was still living at home, and did not want a reminder. They thought that it would be good for the baby to go some kind of relative.

However, they lived a long way away, so offered to fix us up with a place near to them, and find a job for Peter, so I could look after the baby and they could be grandparents.

Their lawyer suggested it might also be a good idea to divorce Nat. I had to agree, and it was easier than I expected.

The adoption was more difficult, but was agreed in principle on time. We had all four agreed that if the mother changed her mind, then of course she would keep her baby, but she refused to even hold the baby girl, and signed the papers.

The grandparents got us a private room in the hospital for a few days, and we slept with the baby between us, taking turns to deal with her. Her grandparents named her Michelle.

I think everyone was amazed how good Peter was with his little sister. It was so natural, I couldn't help thinking of him as Shelley and a mother. Not every mother manages breast-feeding of course, so Shelley's body didn't stop her caring for the baby that was part hers but not part mine.

Then it was home in a flat near her grandparents.

It was there I realised what had to be done. In two weeks, it was clear that Shelley was in love with her little sister like a mother. I loved Michelle, of course, and so did her grandparents, but it seemed to me Shelley had what I had felt for my own little baby. Utter devotion. Maybe it was her age, just a bit older than I had been. She was just ready for it, and the baby was part her in a way, as her own child would have been.

I would go to work and Shelley would be a full-time mother.

There are men who are single parents, and gay couples who adopt or have a surrogate mother. My child was a natural parent (as I think I was) and I could trust her or him.

But motherhood had done something. Shelley was now a woman not a girl: a responsible adult, and didn't want to pretend anything else.

She insisted the grandparents had to be told, and we would have to deal with the situation.

Next time they came round, Peter was there.

Once the cooing and loving had been done, and Michelle put down for a nap, he had his little speech.

"It's only fair you know about something. I feel like a woman, and I like to dress like one. I'm so happy with Michelle, it makes me feel complete, so I don't want to pretend I'm Peter any more. I'll go and change, if you don't mind.

I poured them some coffee and explained as best I could.

It took a while, of course, but Shelley came back in a nice washable house dress, and makeup.

She was nervous, but I thought she looked adorable, now her hair had grown.

"I see," said Dan."

"Oh," said Sarah.

Dan looked at her.

"No problem," she said. "Perhaps we should look for a place in Tranford."

"Yes, we probably should."

We had never heard of it. They explained it was an estate not too far away that had several people who were transgender or liked to dress in opposite sex clothes, so it wouldn't matter that Shelley wasn't physically like a woman. No-one would mind.

They were surprised, but not as shocked as they might have been because they had been to Tranford and had met some transgender people.

It took a while, but eventually we moved into an actual house (just a small semi), me, my daughter and Michelle. Dan and Sarah managed the finance somehow.

CHAPTER 4

There was no doubt to me that Shelley was a woman, though, as they say, in a man's body. She looked as lovely as motherhood makes a woman, but didn't have the shape or a very feminine face. In Tranford that didn't matter. There were some who could pass for women and some who never would, big men like the shopkeeper, Mr Patel who wore a sari and makeup, while his wife wore the trousers.

Shelley was about middling in that way, but the baby was the first in Tranford! The people were very good, not bothering us, but keenly offering help. Best of all there was a nurse on site, Sophie, a transgender woman, meaning she had had operations, but still lived with her wife.

We had many visitors, but the most surprising one was Karen, Michelle's mother. Perhaps not: she was curious, of course. She finished her college course and got a job locally and was living with her parents again. However, the rape had traumatised her and she had been put off men. There had been no boyfriends

She was surprised but glad what a good mother Shelley was.

Karen came back again.

And again.

She loved Michelle, and I was worried she might try to get the baby back.

I didn't have to be, because she liked Shelley, who was not the threat that most men were in her mind.

There were no recriminations.

But eventually she suggested that she could move in, and I could stay in her room at her parents' house, because our Tranford home just had two bedrooms.

I have to say, it was better than I expected. Dan and Sarah were nice, of course, and I soon felt like a family member. They had put off starting a family to get on with their careers, then regretted it when they were unable to conceive. They had given up when Sarah was forty, to Karen had been a wonderful surprise. They were glad to have me in the house now Karen had gone.

When Michelle started to speak, they were Grandad and Granny, while I was Auntie. She had no trouble with two Mummies, Shelley and Karen.

Karen and Shelley really clicked. Karen was younger, but had been a girl for a lot longer and helped Shelley like an older sister, how to live like a girl. She loved Michelle and helped do everything with her, but she was more like a good father (like my Dad, not Nat), I suppose. She went to work each day, of course, with a promising career, and Shelley and Michelle had already bonded.

I think some of ladies in Tranford try too hard. High heels and stockings and showing off their busts. Karen was just an ordinary young woman, who dressed nicely but in a more relaxed way, and she helped Shelley to be the same. Shelley's lovely wavy blonde hair was an advantage, of course, but a good cut and a bit of tinting helped a natural look. I noticed the change in makeup, as well. Just a bit, but good.

Sophie's wife Liz was a dressmaker who made clothes for women who had male bodies. Being handmade to fit, they weren't cheap, but Karen was glad to get some for Shelley. They really helped to give a suggestion of shape, and hiding the pecker. It was enough so they could all three go out together in the city, or come round to us, which was lovely for them. (And it made me cry a bit to see my daughter so relaxed and happy.)

Michelle had just started school when she came to me with a big secret. Her Mummies were going to be married and she was getting a little brother or sister!

She's a wonderful girl is my daughter Shelley.