June's Story
For the last few days I haven't been able to get Toby out of my head. I've opened up to my sister and told her about Toby. She's a couple of years older than me, and has helped me through all the difficulties of coping with mum and dad. When my dad first asked her what she thought about me dressing up in girl's clothes, she said "it's cool." That one phrase has always been her favourite, and a little overused, but she has always stuck up for me. I think my parents were expecting Melody to think I was a gross little pervert, but she didn't. When mum and dad said they wouldn't buy me any girl's clothes, she told them she had plenty of clothes that she didn't wear anymore, which would now fit me.
I'm back round my aunt's now for a little peace and quiet, and away from the disgusted glares of my father, and the worrying expressions of my mother.
"Have you been with his dad?"
"June, you'll have to be more specific, who's dad?"
I roll my eyes, only my aunt would answer that question like that.
"Toby's dad, have you been with him?"
"Well yes, but only a few times, and it's not like we're dating, it is more of a sort of business arrangement."
"Jesus Auntie, you mean he pays you to sleep with him?"
"No.....well not with him, but he has these clients, which if I like I sort of.........yeah I see what you mean," she says with a frown, "so how is Toby?" she asks changing the subject.
"He's gone back into bully mode. Anyway this is about you sleeping with his dad, you can't anymore or Toby will probably kick off."
"June he isn't the sort of man I can say no to."
I throw my hands up in the air, "God, just try it for once it is easy."
"I don't mean like that he is a guy which it isn't easy to, well, end things with. He saw us out together the other night, he asked who you were. It took me a while to put him off wanting to see you."
"Does he know I'm going through the change?"
"God no, I'd never tell him that. But he did think you are a real girl and he asked if I would introduce you, I said no. He was quite insistent, but look on the bright side; he thinks you're a real girl like a lot of other guys do."
A week later I'm back at my aunt's after a row with my father. I look at the letter again from Mr Murray's company, asking me to attend an interview, it's signed by him.
I have tea with my aunt, and tell her about dad getting all angry yet again.
"Oh, I um have an interview by the way; Rachel Lynn the knickers queen is looking for office staff."
"Well that's good," my Aunt says with a smile.
"So can I borrow some of your nice clothes?"
She looks at me.
"Go on, you're my favourite Aunt," I say with a smile.
"I'm your only Aunt."
"If I get a job there I might be able to get you some free samples, please Aunty?"
"Ok, go pick something, I'm working in the pub tonight I'll see you later, and no looking at my comp, I've changed the password so it'll do you no good."
I daren't tell Aunt Sylvia the truth about the letter being from Mr Murray's office, and not Rachel Lynn's company. She'd stop me going in a heartbeat.
I'm in Mr Murray's building now waiting for my interview. I've watched the women go by, there isn't one that looks over 40, and they are all smartly dressed.
I watch him come out of an office, head down, reading from a sheet of paper. He doesn't look up he just goes in another office. He's in his early 50's with a slight beer belly, which if it goes unchecked will balloon like my grandfather's did. His black hair, which is maybe out of a bottle, is thinning too. Despite that he is quite handsome; I can see why my Aunt would be attracted to him.
I'm willing him to come out again, but I'm called into an office for my interview. I was rather hoping he would be doing the interview, but he isn't. I do up the button on my blouse, which shows off too much cleavage, and shove my Aunt's skirt down a bit, to a couple of inches above my knees. I can't do anything about my high heels, but I have noticed every woman is wearing them.
My hair is black, long, and just like my aunt's style. It shines with the expensive shampoo I used this morning. My make up and nails are immaculate, thanks to my sister. My green blouse is tight under my breasts, and the black skirt I'm wearing clings to me like a second skin. I'm wearing tan pantyhose with a black bow on the ankles, I thought of seams, but not today. Besides they belong to Sylvia's more expensive collection, she'd kill me if she knew I had them on. My fingers match my red lipstick, bold and bright.
The interview goes okay. I'd like to say well, but I honestly don't know. The woman doesn't show any signs of like or dislike to me, or my answers.
"Would you stand against that wall please?"
I want to ask why, but she doesn't give me the chance, she is up on her feet and heading out of the office. She comes back in carrying a camera.
"Take your jacket off please."
I do placing it on the back of a chair.
"Face the wall."
I do and I hear a click.
"Now turn to the left, and then the right."
I do as I'm told.
"Now face me."
I do and she takes two more photos.
"How, did I do?" I ask and wish I hadn't.
"I only do the interviews I don't have the final say. Are those pantyhose from Rachel Lynn?"
I nod, "the shoes are from her range too."
"You've pulled your skirt down, and closed the button on your blouse since you came in. I watched you on the cameras we have around the building."
"So have I failed my interview?" I ask in quiet disappointment.
"Like I said, I don't have the final say. Thank you, and wait here for a moment."
I watch her turn and stride out of the room. I put my jacket on and wait until she comes back.
She shuffles papers on the desk, and then looks over her glasses at me.
"June, do you know Mr Murray?"
I'm stumped, what if Toby has told his dad about me? The boy who used to go playing at his house, who is now on her way to becoming a girl!
"Yes or no will do," she says noting the silence as I think about my answer.
"Yes, why do you ask?" I reply hoping to buy a bit more time, and find out where she is going.
She looks at me for a moment.
"A word of advice, those two women out there won't get a job here. I think it is pretty obvious why; one is too plump the other is wearing ill fitting slacks, and she's too old. My advice to you is, if we take you on, don't ask questions about anything you see and hear, and you looked a lot better before you followed me in here."
She gestures for me to hitch my skirt up again. I do, but she gestures for me to do it even more.
"Blouse," she says.
I stand there looking dumb.
"Open the button again," she says with a huff