“I said I could house
two girls at the most and you've only got one!” Mrs Postlethwaite
retorted. “I don't like boys, I don't trust boys, and I have no
intention of housing one... especially a scratty little street urchin like
that!” she says as a well manicured nail points directly at Billy.
An unwelcome lump grows in the poor boy's throat as he feels unloved and unwanted by anyone but his mother, but the billeting officer doesn't give up. He pleads with the lady's 'charitable' nature and reminds her she's a church goer, reiterates that it will all be over by Christmas and looks down on the scruffy boy with his tangled hair and tatty clothes. “Look at him... yes he's tatty but all he needs is a good bath and some clean clothes...”
“I'm expected to
clothe him too!” Mrs Postlethwaite blurts. “Have you any idea how
expensive decent clothes are these days?”
The billeting officer
considers taking the boy himself, but with four children of his own
and two evacuees already, he simply doesn't have the space. He
reminds himself that his role is to allocate 'all' of the children
and with one host left and one unallocated child, he continues to
press the seemingly immovable Mrs Postlethwaite. He reminds her about
the weekly allowance she'll receive for taking one evacuee and points
out that taking two will double the allowance, “...and if you're
clothing them too, there's an additional allowance to cover any
expenses.” he informs her. “Look at him... a poor little lamb...
there's not a hint malice in his eyes... and I'm sure he'll try his
very best to not get under your feet.”
The lady begins to
soften a little and addresses the boy directly. “How old are you!”
“Ten Miss.”
“It's Ma'am!”
“Ma'am.” he peeps.
“And you'll pull your
weight? I don't want you expecting to be waited on hand and foot...
you'll have chores, you'll be expected to be quiet, to only speak
when spoken to, to not make a mess, to not touch anything, to be
polite and courteous, to do as you're told when you're told.”
“Yes Miss... Ma'am.”
the boy promised.
She sighs and raises
her hand. “Give me your tag!” she grumbles as she gives in and
agrees to take the boy. Poor Billy removed the tag from the collar of
his overcoat and hands it to Mrs Postlethwaite. She writes her name
on the blank dotted line marked 'host' and hands it to the billeting
officer. “I hope I won't regret this.” she says, grimacing at the
boy. All the while young Alice has been stood nervously at Mrs
Postlethwaite's side. Alice sympathises with the boy as she too was
one of the last to be chosen and just like Billy, feels equally
unwanted. Alice feels her host's eyes on her and looks up at the
staunch lady. Mrs Postlethwaite forces a smile and tells Alice to
give the boy her case. “We may as well put him to good use sooner
rather than later.”
“Yes Ma'am.” Alice
nervously says as she hands her case to Billy. She'd rather carry it
herself and feels it completely unfair that the boy is expected to
carry her case too, but she's not going to argue with Mrs
Postlethwaite.
“Oh you can call me
Miss.” Mrs Postlethwaite says in a sickly sugary tone. Her false
smile becomes slightly sinister as she turns and sneers at the boy.
“Come!” she says, taking Alice by the hand and expecting the boy
to follow. Her large house is about a mile out of the small town and poor Billy is exhausted as they crest the hill on which it's perched.
“Hurry up boy!” Mrs Postlethwaite barks. “Don't dawdle! And
don't drag them... carry them!”
His
little arms struggle to keep the two big cases off the ground but he
tries his best. When they finally enter the house, he puts the cases
down and his unburdened arms almost float upwards. Mrs Postlethwaite
stands the children in the hallway and barks, “Right... let's have
a look at you both!” The children stand silent and still as the
woman looks them up and down. She shakes her head and frowns, “A
red head and an urchin wasn't exactly what I envisaged.” she
moaned before asking the children what they'd brought with them.
Billy listed two pairs of socks, two pairs of underpants two vest, a
pair of trousers, a jumper, and his gas mask. Alice listed far more
items of clothing which explains why her case was so much heavier
than Billy's. “No corset?” Mrs Postlethwaite asks, sounding
somewhat astonished.
“No Miss.” Alice
replied. Mrs Postlethwaite asks her age and Alice replies, “Nine and a
half.... Miss.”
“At you're age you
should be wearing one... I'll get you fitted tomorrow.” Mrs
Postlethwaite states. She looks down on Billy and says, “You boy...
take Alice's case to her room.”
“Yes Miss...Ma'am.”
Billy meekly replied. She directs him upstairs to the first room on
the left and berates him for being clumsy as he bundles the bulky
case up the narrow steps.
The small room has a
single bed, a small chest of drawers and a wardrobe. On the wall
hangs a picture of a rural scene which echoes the view from the small
window. He puts the case down and returns to the hallway where Alice
stands silent as Mrs Postlethwaite talks 'at' her. She looks at Billy
as he ascends the stairs and points to the floor next to Alice.
Obediently, Billy takes his place and asks where he should take his
case, but the stern lady silences him. “Speak only when spoken to
boy.” she barks. “Before either of you go anywhere you need to be
scrubbed... heaven knows what lice live in your hair or what
detritus you've brought from the city.” she says before leading
them into the back room. She sends Billy to fetch the tin bath from
the scullery, then to fill the coal scuttle. She forces the children
to stand whilst she lays the fire and lights it, before having the
boy fetch a large pan of water which she places on the range. When
the pan is sufficiently heated she pours its contents into the bath
tub and sends the boy to refill it. Pan by pan the tub slowly fills
and when almost full, she instructs Alice to remove her clothes.
Alice is initially shy since a boy is present, but Mrs Postlethwaite
tells her not to be stupid or shy. Alice undresses and steps in the
bath where their brutal host scrubs her from head to toe. “I've a
good mind to chop this off!” she barks as she washes the girl's
thick red locks. Then she tells the boy to fetch his case from the
hallway and when he returns, she instructs him to undress. Alice is
removed from the tub and given a towel and Billy gets in. He's never
been scrubbed so hard in his whole life and fears the hard bristled
brush might actually remove his skin. The brutal host puts a large
bar of green soap in his hand and tells him to wash his hair. As he
does so, Mrs Postlethwaite opens his case and roots through the few
tatty items of clothing he's brought. “I assumed you'd worn your
old clothes for the journey but it appears they were your best.”
she sneers as she pokes her finger through the hole in his spare
jumper and frowns at the patches that hide the wear and tear on the
back of his shorts. “These won't do... they won't do at all!” she
says as the boy rinses the soap from his eyes.
“Hey what are you
doing!” the boy yells as she tosses his socks and underpants on the
fire.
“Something your mother
should have done a long time ago.” Mrs Postlethwaite said as she
pulled the buttons off his shorts and tossed both pairs on the fire.
He watched in horror as the smoke and flames enveloped them. Mrs
Postlethwaite plunged the vests into the tub and rinsed them. “These
will do for cleaning cloths.” she said as she rung them out and
hung them to dry before grabbing his tatty old jumper and saying that
it's only good for the wool. She takes hold of a loose strand and
pulls it. She winds the ever growing strand of wool into a ball
around her hand and Billy just watches, open mouthed as the hole in his jumper gets
bigger and bigger.
“But
that's my only jumper!” he says as it gradually disappears before
his eyes. Alice remains silent as she stands wrapped in a towel by
the fire. She's clearly just as petrified of their domineering host
as Billy is but Alice knows that Mrs Postlethwaite doesn't despise
her in the same way as she does the boy. Alice felt sorry for Billy
as he watches in baffled bemusement from the tepid bath tub. “What
am I going to wear now!” he whines as Mrs Postlethwaite rips the the buttons from his
off-white shirt and telling him that it's far too tatty.
“One of Alice's
dresses will do for the time being.” she suggests.
“But...!” the boy
gasps.
“But nothing boy!”
Mrs Postlethwaite barks as she grabs his head and starts rooting
through his hair. “You clothes were filthy and lice ridden so
you'll have to make do until we get you some decent clothes of your
own.” she says. “Your hair isn't much better either!” she says
as she begins pulling a fine toothed comb through it.
Billy is eventually
pulled from the bath, given a towel but isn't granted the luxury of
drying off by the fire. Instead, he and Alice are carted up stairs
where Alice is sent to her room and Billy is taken to his. Billy's
room is small and dank. A wrought iron bed sits in the corner and
that's pretty much all there is in there. He is told to wait whilst
Mrs Postlethwaite tends to the girl. A lump emerges in his throat as
he thinks about his mother and the tears she shed when he left. His
lower lip swells and his chin begins the wither whilst a tear
develops in his eye. He peers out of the tiny dirty window and looks
at the hill and track he'd carried the cases up. Then he turns as he
hears Mrs Postlethwaite return. She appears with a pale yellow dress
hung over her arm and a set of girl's undergarments in her hand.
“Please don't make me wear those.” he mumbles as she lays the
items on his bed.
“When I offered to
take you in you promised you'd be obedient.” she reminded him.
“Anything less and you'll be sleeping outside.” she stated. “Do
you understand?”
Billy hung his head and
said “Yes.” adding “Ma'am” when prompted. Reluctantly, he
donned the clothes provided before being sheepishly herded down
stairs. Alice was already there, her damp hair hung lankly around her
pale freckled face. Billy is prompted to thank Alice for the clothes
he's wearing and reluctantly he does. Alice says he's welcome and
tries to reassure him by telling him that he looks nice, but her
heart goes out to him as Mrs Postlethwaite takes a pair of scissors
to his shirts and vests, cutting them into square clothes to be used
for cleaning and dusting and thus leaving him with virtually no
possessions of his own.
They sit in absolute
silence, too scared to speak as their host potters about, although
they do have the occasional quick quiet chat when Mrs Postlethwaite
is in another room. Billy says he can't believe she's destroyed all
of his clothes and has made him wear one of Alice's dresses. “At
least you'll get some new clothes tomorrow. I can't believe she's
going to make me wear a corset!” Alice replies. “My mother says
they're very uncomfort...” Alice stops speaking as she hears their
host's heels on the hardwood floor of the hallway.
“They're only
uncomfortable at first girl.” Mrs Postlethwaite says, clearly
having overheard what Alice was saying. “You'll soon get used to
it.” she states before telling the boy to stand. Billy nervously
rises from his seat and says nothing as she ties a length of broad
yellow ribbon in his hair. “That's better... the less like a boy
you look the more tolerable you'll be.” she said. Billy can't help
but stuck his lip out as he feels the big floppy bow on his head. He
sits, gulps and looks at Alice. She smiles reassuringly at Billy,
pitying him more and more with every passing moment.
The
next day, Billy wears the same yellow dress and the same yellow
ribbon in his hair. Both are humiliating to wear but nothing prepared
him for the sense of shame he feels when they're taken down to the
small town and all the folk look and stare with bemused expressions
on their faces. Mrs Postlethwaite seems to be well known and well
respected by the towns-folk and shamelessly tells all & sundry
that the clothes that Billy had brought with him were simply too
filthy and lice ridden and had to be disposed of. “Like the rest of
us he'll have to make do with what he's given.” she tells them.
Billy's hopes are raised when a kindly woman offers to deliver a
bundle of boy's hand-me-downs for poor Billy to wear, but Mrs
Postlethwaite respectfully declines the offer. “There's needier
boys in the world than this one.” she states before assuring the
woman that he won't go without.
“Well... if you
change your mind you know where I am.” the woman says as she looks
down on the boy and smiles. Billy looks up at her with pleaful eyes,
silently begging her bring him some boy's clothes to wear. “He does
actually look very pretty... for a boy.” the woman adds before
bidding them farewell and going on her way.
Mrs Postlethwaite takes
them to a corsetière
where Alice is to be fitted with her first corset. The window is
filled with mannequins clad in a variety of brutal undergarments;
mostly modern girdles, panties and brassieres, but there's the
occasional corset too. It's dark inside the shop and every inch is
filled with either display stands or storage, housing numerous styles of knickers and brassieres, stockings, suspenders,
girdles and corsets. A smart looking lady is fitting a brassiere to a
small bust mannequin and Mrs Postlethwaite tells her that Alice needs
a corset fitting. “Isn't she a bit young?” the lady says.
“Absolutely not.”
Mrs Postlethwaite insists before claiming that she began her corset training
on her eighth birthday. Alice is taken to a back room and told to undress and young Billy can only listen as his fellow evacuee is laced
into her first corset. Judging by her high pitched yelps and pained groans, it doesn't sound like Alice is having a very nice time and now it's Billy's turn to feel pity for her. When Alice
emerges from the back room, Billy instantly sees that her waist is noticeably narrower than before. A strained expression is fixated on
her face, her rosy red cheeks appear damp from the tears she'd shed.
He casts Alice a reassuring smile, just like the ones she'd
previously cast him. “Right...” Mrs Postlethwaite announces.
Billy stands and prepares himself for the strange looks he'll receive
when they exit the shop. She beckons him with her index and middle
finger. “You next.” she says.
“B... but...” Billy
stammers when he realises that he too is to go in to the back room.
“You may be a boy
child... but if you're to stay under my roof then you have to do as
you're told.” she sternly states. “Now come... before I drag
you.”
Reluctantly Billy steps
into the back room where he's stripped down to his knickers, given a
silk chemise and is slowly and securely laced into a corset of his
own. Tears silently stream down his cheeks as the air is squeezed out
of him. He fears he might feint, then wishes he'll do just that as he
hopes he'll soon wake up and discover this experience to be nothing
more than a really bad dream. As they leave the corsetière, both
Billy and Alice have a look of utter misery on their faces and just
as Billy thinks he can't feel any worse than he already does, he's
taken into a boutique where Mrs Postlethwaite has him measured and
fitted with some clothes of his own; a pretty pink 'day' dress, a
plain green 'play' dress and a pure white Sunday dress. In addition,
he is bought two pairs of shoes (one black, one cream, both heeled),
several pairs of stockings and socks, several sets of knickers and
vests and a white knitted cardigan with little heart shaped pockets
which served no practical purpose. “But these are all girl's
clothes.” he whines.
“Of course they
are... the less you look like a boy the better in my book.” Mrs
Postlethwaite told him before asking to see the boutique's selection
of children's nightdresses. “I suppose I'd better buy the girl one
too.” she grimaced. “Can't have you feeling left out can we?”
Alice politely thanked
her guardian for the gift of a new nightie, which prompted Mrs
Postlethwaite to look to the boy for his appreciation. But Billy
can't bring himself to thank her for putting him in girl's clothes.
With a mournful gaze, he simply asks why she she's doing this to him.
“Because I can't abide boys and whilst I'm your guardian, you won't
be one... do you understand?”
“But I am a boy!”
Billy insisted. “You can't do this to me.”
“Oh but I can young
man, and I have.” she said as she looked him up and down. “Now
you can either carry on as you are, sulking like a little girl, or
follow Alice's example and act like a pleasant, well behaved young
lady... what's it going to be?”
Billy didn't reply but
he did screw up his nose in defiance. Both he and Alice are
shepherded back onto the busy main street where they follow Mrs
Postlethwaite as she visits the butchers and bakers, greengrocers,
haberdashers and hardware shops. For Billy it's an awful experience
being paraded around the town wearing Alice's dress and a bright
yellow ribbon in his hair... dressed as a girl but still clearly a
boy, he's certainly turning some heads. On the upside, this is
happening a long way from his home town of Denton, but on the
downside, he's one of about thirty kids from his corner of the
northern powerhouse that is Manchester and plenty of them attend the
same school as Billy. At least three times today he's overheard the
words 'billy', 'dress' and 'girl' as some of the other evacuees clap
their eyes on him. On more than a few occasions an adult has
questioned Mrs Postlethwaite about the manner in which she's dressed
young Billy, and each time she claims that boy's cannot be trusted,
are too boisterous and are generally a nuisance. “I never asked for
a boy but since I've been given one it's a case of my house, my
rules.” is her stubborn retort to those who don't accept her
misandrous reasoning.
Mrs Postlethwaite calls
in on Mr Brown, the billeting officer on their way out of town and
gives him the receipts for the clothes she's purchased. “What in
heaven's name have you don't to him!?” Mr Brown blurts when he
recognises Billy as one of the two 'girls' waiting by the garden
gate.
“I told you I'd
willingly take two girls and since you only had one, I had to
compromise.” Mrs Postlethwaite sternly stated.
“Is that what you
call a compromise!” Mr Brown asked her. “He's a little boy for
heaven's sake!”
“Like I said, I'm
willing to take two girls.” she retorted. “Now these are the
receipts for his clothes... I'd like a chitty please.” she tells
the billeting officer who'd allocated young Billy into her
guardianship. With no laws or written guidelines broken, there's
nothing Mr Brown can do but accept the receipts and arrange for Mrs
Postlethwaite's expenses to be reimbursed.
Back at the house Billy
is put into his new green dress which he wears with a pair of white
stockings and his new black shoes. He gives Alice her dress back and
she tells him that his new dress is very pretty. “I wished she'd
bought me boy's clothes instead.” Billy moaned. “Does
your corset hurt as much as mine?” he asked.
Alice nodded and said
she couldn't wait for bedtime when she'll finally be free of its vice
like grip, even if it's only for a few hours. However come bedtime,
it quickly became clear that neither Alice nor Billy would be granted
some night-time respite from their constricting corsets. Neither of
them gave it a second thought when Mrs Postlethwaite purchased two
separate yards of heavy gauge curb chain and two small padlocks from
the hardware shop. As Alice undressed and expected to be de-laced
from her corset, she quickly realised what the padlock and chain was
for. “When I was your age I hated having to sleep in my corset...”
Mrs Postlethwaite told the girl. “...so I snook a pair of scissors
from my mother's sewing box and cut the laces. My mother whipped me
the first time. The second time I was whipped again and went a
whole day without food. It didn't happen a third time because I wore
a chain, and although that didn't stop me from trying to remove it,
it did stop me from succeeding.” she explained. “If you're wise
Alice, which I think you are... you'll leave your corset well alone
and avoid the additional pain that I endured.” Alice donned her new
nightie and politely told Mrs Postlethwaite how pretty it felt before
climbing into bed. Their domineering guardian did the same to Billy
but spared him the sob story, but she did tell him that if he
complained just once, she'd take his corset in another inch. Billy didn't
complain as the chain was locked in place around his already narrow
waist, nor did he enthuse over his new frilly nightie before climbing into his
bed. He sobbed all night long in his creaking metal bed and didn't
enjoy a single wink of sleep.
On
Sunday he wore his white 'Sunday' dress with white stockings and
cream coloured shoes. Alice wore a similar outfit and all three of
them walked down to the town and attended church. All the other
evacuees were there and every last one of them pointed and giggled
and whispered when they saw poor Billy in his Sunday best, complete
with a straw bonnet bearing a broad white ribbon. The vicar welcomed
the newcomers to the parish and assured them that they'd all have a
pleasant stay with their respective host families. “I trust that
each and every one of you will offer your guardians the gratitude,
courtesy and obedience that they expect.” he said. Billy listened
and stared at his rayon clad knees that peeped out from his pure
white dress. All the time he could feel the corset biting into him
and all he could think of was home. Even with the risk of the
Luftwaffe’s bombs raining down on him, he'd rather be there with
his mother than here with Mrs Postlethwaite.
As the service draws to
a close, the evacuees are beckoned to the alter where the priest
gives each of them a Gideon's Bible and a blessing. After the service
Mrs Postlethwaite chatted with various members of the congregation,
most of whom seemed bemused by what she'd done to the boy yet none of
them berated her for it. Some however said that he looked very sweet,
“Much nicer than that scruffy urchin in the church hall on Friday.”
one said. “If I thought he'd make such a pretty girl I'd have taken
him myself.” she added.
Some of the boys and
girls from Billy's school sauntered over and asked him why he's
wearing a dress. “Mrs Postlethwaite doesn't like boys.” he
mournfully informed them. “...and no one else would take me.”
“Are you a girl now?”
one of the girls he knew asked him.
“Of course he's not a
girl!” one of her acquaintances stated. “He's just a boy in a
dress.”
“I know that!” the
first girl insisted. “I mean, are you going to dress like a girl
all the time?” she asked, adding “Will you be a boy or a girl at
school tomorrow?”
“Er... I don't know.”
Billy replied. At that moment, Mrs Postlethwaite and another younger
lady stepped over to where Billy, Alice and the handful of other evacuees
stood chatting and told them to say hello to Miss Wainwright.
“Hello children.”
Miss Wainwright smiled, looking at each of their faces. She
introduced herself as one of the teachers from the school they'll be
attending before looking at Billy, smiling and saying, “And you
must be Billy, the young 'lady' Mrs Postlethwaite has been telling me
about?”
“I'm not a lady.”
Billy grimaced.
“Well you look like
one to me.” Miss Wainwright replied. “...and a very pretty one
too.” she added in that friendly/patronising tone that teachers
often employ. Billy screwed up his nose at her, trying his best to
look anything but 'pretty'. She crouched down to his level and told
him that he's far too pretty to attend school with the boys, causing
the boys and girls to snigger and giggle. Miss Wainwright raised a
disapproving eyebrow at them before continuing, “So make sure you
go through the girl's entrance tomorrow.” she advised before asking
Alice to make sure he does.
“Yes Miss.” Alice
replied as the other girls giggled and said 'he is a girl'.
As they walked back up
the hill to Mrs Postlethwaite's remote house, lingering a few yards
behind their strict and domineering guardian, Alice tried to reassure
Billy by saying “Don't worry, I'll look after you... and it's not
so bad being a girl.”
“It's horrible.”
Billy whimpered. “Everybody laughs at me and I can hardly breathe
in this corset.”
Alice agreed that
having to wear a corset is horrible, especially at night. “She put
a chain around mine to stop me from taking it off.” Alice told him.
Billy said she'd done the same to him. “I thought as much.” Alice
replied. “But apart from wearing a corset, it's not so bad being a
girl.” she assured.
“Even without the
corset I think I'd hate it.” Billy replied before claiming that he
looks silly in his dress and his bonnet feels stupid and that his
shoes hurt his feet.
Alice suggested that he
only feels that way because he's not used to looking pretty, “...and
new shoes always hurt at first.” she added. Billy confessed to
never having worn new shoes before as almost everything he has (or
had), has been handed down.
They return to the
house and Mrs Postlethwaite puts them in the parlour and instructs
them to spend 'the lords day' reading their Bibles in silence. Billy
looks at the words but doesn't really read them, instead he thinks of
his loving mother back home and how she'd put a stop to his inhumane
treatment if she only knew. Being children, they frequently break
into chatter only to find them being silenced by their strict
guardian within minutes. The only break from Bible study is whilst
they eat the Sunday roast Mrs Postlethwaite has prepared and later in
the evening when they're being scrubbed in the old tin bath tub in
front of the fire. The bristles of the brush are hard and Mrs
Postlethwaite isn't shy about using it, but being scrubbed clean also
means a brief moment of relief from their constricting corsets. Billy
is second in the tub and as he washes his hair, Alice is being put
back in her corset and she's not happy about it... in fact she puts
up a proper fight which sends Mrs Postlethwaite into a rage. She pins
the naked girl over her knee and lashes her bare back with a leather
strap until it bleeds. Then, as Alice sobs uncontrollably, she laces
her back into the corset, pulls it an inch tighter and fastens the
chain around her waist. Billy can't help but cry as he witnesses such
cruelty being rained down on poor Alice, and he can't imagine the pain
she must be feeling wearing a tightly laced corset over her wounds.
When it's his turn, he doesn't fight or moan as the corset is
fastened around him and slowly drawn tighter and tighter. Inch by
inch it squeezes the air out of him as he sobs as silently as
possible, and it's only when the length of chain is finally locked in
place around his narrow corseted waist can he even try to relax.
On
Monday morning, Billy & Alice walk down the lane towards the town
and Billy tells Alice that he's been thinking about running away.
Alice confesses to thinking the same thing after being lashed last
night, “But we'd only be found and brought straight back here.”
she presumed. “She's our legal guardian until we're allowed to
return to Manchester and there's nothing we can do about it.”
“But she whipped you
with a leather strap... your back was bleeding!” Billy stated. “She
can't do that... she's not your parent or a teacher!” he added
(those being the people who usually dished out such punishments).
“She's our guardian
and she can.” Alice replied. “It's not against the law to punish
a child.”
“Well it should be.”
Billy retorted. Alice agreed. “Is it against the law to dress a boy
as a girl?” Billy asked. Alice said she didn't think so. “Well it
should be.” Billy said. He looked down toward the track they tread
and the shoes that trod it; black leather Mary Jane’s with a chunky
two inch heel. His legs are clad in a pair of white knee socks, the
very colour that no boy should ever have to wear. He does wear his
own overcoat as that (along with his pair of old hand-me-down shoes)
is the only item of clothing that Mrs Postlethwaite hadn't burnt or
cut into cleaning cloths... but protruding from beneath his overcoat
is the pink day dress. He can feel the broad pink ribbon tied in a
big bow flipping and flopping on the top of his head, and the moment
he's out of sight of Mrs Postlethwaite's house, he removes it and
scrunches it tightly in his fist before preparing to throw it into
the hedgerow.
“Please don't
Billy... she'll only get angry.” Alice advises. On second thoughts,
Billy puts the ribbon in his pocket but Alice tells him to stand
still whilst she puts it back where it should be. He moans, and quite
rightly so since no boy should have to wear a ribbon in his hair,
certainly not a pink one. “I know Billy but, all girl's wear a
ribbon.” Alice reminds him, “Even if they're not really a girl.”
As they approach the
school gates, both evacuee and local children point and laugh at poor
Billy. A hoard of butterflies erupt in his stomach as he looks up at
the chiselled words above the entrance; Girls. The echoes of laughing
boys fade as he passes through the vestibule where he and all the
others remove their overcoats. The walls of the vestibule are home to
two staggered rows of coat hooks and from every one hangs a white
pinafore apron. The girls don an apron and hang their coat in its
place. Alice helps Billy into his pinny as he gets in a right
kerfuffle trying to fasten the single button between his shoulder
blades and is unable tie the two tapes in a bow at the small of his back. Although
the white pinafore apron covers much of his pink dress, Billy feels a trillion
times more girlie for wearing it.
Billy gulps and tries
to be brave as he follows Alice into the main corridor. First they
attend morning assembly where the boys fill one side of the hall and
the girls (along with Billy) fill the other. The head teacher
welcomes the evacuees in pretty much the same manner as the vicar had
at yesterday's church service, and after a prayer and a hymn, the
boys and girls go their respective ways to attend class.
Miss Wainwright takes
the morning register and shushes the girls when they giggle after
Billy's full name, William Thorpe is read out, then she asks Billy to
come to the front of the class, compliments his pretty dress and
informs the class that they must be nice to him before telling them
why. “Billy's guardian, Mrs Postlethwaite, doesn't like boys so
Billy has to try to be a girl instead... we all know he's not a
proper girl, but I trust you'll all set a good example of how a young
lady should conduct herself, and I hope you'll all find it in your
hearts to help Billy to learn to act as a young lady should.”
At his old school,
Billy and all the other boys used to be intrigued by what it might be
like in the girl's half of the school. It was a place they all wanted
to see but never wanted to enter. Well now he knows and apart from it
being full of girls, it's much the same as the boy's half of the
school. They sit through reading, writing and arithmetic; watching
and listening to the teacher at the front who addresses the class
collectively as 'girls' as in 'pay attention girls' and 'now girls,
who can tell me..?' and 'good girl' even when poor Billy sheepishly
answered a question. Just like his old school, the morning's lessons
are divided by play-time, but unlike his old school where Billy felt
largely ignored, here he's the centre of attention. “Do you like
being a girl?” they ask. “Are you really a boy?” they query.
“Do you always wear dresses?” they quiz.
It's all quite worrying
and Billy feels flustered by all the questions and attention. Mrs
Wainwright walks over suggests that the girl's don't crowd him and
sends most of them to play elsewhere in the yard, leaving Billy with
a small handful of girls to deal with. “Why don't you show Billy
how to play hop-scotch... that'll be fun won't it.” the teacher
suggests.
“Oh god!” Billy
thinks as he watches what the girls do, skipping and hopping in their
dresses and pinnies, dreading the moment when it's his turn. A couple
of the girls giggled at how inept he was whilst the others encouraged
him. “It's not easy in heels.” Billy claimed, although he
couldn't be sure if he'd be much better at hop scotch if he'd worn boy's shoes. After dinner, a girl called Molly and another called
Eunice, along with Alice played clapping games. I think they had more
fun than Billy as they tried to teach him the rhymes and the moves.
“No wonder boys don't play this...” he said as he struggled to
get into the rhythm and routine of it. “...it's really hard.”
“Pat-a-cake
pat-a-cake is the easiest one!” Eunice tells him. “You boys are
so feeble.” she stated, causing Billy to fold his arms, stick out his lip and have a little sulk.
“Oh don't be mean to
him.” Alice said. “He's only been a girl since Friday and he's
never played this before today.”
“I'm not a giiiirl.”
Billy whined.
“I know Billy... but
you've got to learn to be one... you heard what Miss Wainwright
said.” Alice reminded him. Billy exhaled long and slow through his
nostrils. He gulped before raising his hands. Alice smiled and
started slowly from the beginning, “Pat... a... cake... Pat... a
cake... bakers... man... bake... me a cake... as fast... as you
can... pat it and... shape it and... mark it with B...”
When the school day
came to an end, Billy and Alice hung up their white pinafore aprons
and donned their overcoats before walking the mile or so out of the
town and up the hill. “I don't think any of the other girls have to
wear a corset.” Billy said.
“Hardly anyone does
any more.” Alice told him. “My mother used to and my grandmother
still does and I never expected I'd ever have to wear one.”
“So why do we
have to wear them?” Billy asked.
“Because she's mean
and likes inflicting pain on us.” Alice quickly replied. “Or
maybe because she's always worn one and just thinks all girls still
should... although you shouldn't have to wear one because you're not
even a girl.” she added.
“It wouldn't be any
better if I was.” Billy replied. “I think I've just got to try to
be one until our boys take down the Nazis.”
“If they take
them down.” Alice replied.
“I don't even want to
think about that.” Billy said. “Is your dad in the war?” he
asked. Alice nodded and returned the question. “Yes. He's in the
RAF.” Billy replied. Alice said she wasn't sure what her father was
doing, but she knew he was in the army and is somewhere abroad.
“Have you girls had a
nice day at school?” were Mrs Postlethwaite's words when they
return to their temporary home.
“Yes.” they replied
in unison. Mrs Postlethwaite poured them a glass of milk each, which
was gratefully received. Then she told them to change into their play
clothes. “Er.. what?” Billy said.
“Your play clothes
Billy.” Mrs Postlethwaite restated. “... and please, address me
as Ma'am when you speak to me. Your play dress is the green dress I
bought you, for wearing when you're not at school.” she reminded
him. “Alice will button you into it, won't you Alice?”
“Yes Miss.” Alice
obediently replied.
“Now run along... and
don't leave your day dress crumpled on the floor Billy!” Mrs
Postlethwaite said.
“Yes.. er.. no..
Ma'am.” Billy said as Alice bundled him out of the kitchen and up
the stairs. “How come you can call her Miss and I have to call her
Ma'am?” he moaned as they reached the landing.
“I don't know Billy.”
Alice replied. “Best to just do what she says.” she advised. “I'd
hate to see you get a lashing too.” she said.
Billy recalled the
previous night's scene and the pain she'd endured. “Does it still
hurt?” he asked.
Alice nodded. “Like
hell.” she said as she placed her hands on her corseted hips. “But
I think my corset's actually helping.” she added. Alice led Billy
to his room and helped him change into his green 'play' dress.
“There... how does that feel?” she asked as she fastened the
final button at the nape of his neck.
“Horrible.” he
replied. “But better than my pink one.” he said before turning
and thanking her.
“Your welcome.”
Alice replied. She cast him the sweetest smile and he blushed. “I
hate being here but I'm happy here with you.” she said. “Please
don't run away and leave me.” she asked.
“I hate it too but...
I'd hate it more if it was just me.” Billy replied as a tear welled
up in his eye. They hugged one another until their guardian bellowed
up the stairs. “Won't be long Mrs Postlethwaite.” Alice replied
before sending Billy down and going to change out of her dress.
Billy spent a
tumultuous few minutes trying to answer his guardian's questions
about what he'd learnt at school. At first he tried to recall the
maths, the spelling and the reading before telling her about learning
to play hop scotch and the clapping game fiasco. “So you're getting
along with the other girls?” she asked.
“Yes... Ma'am.” he
meekly replied.
“And they're teaching
you how to be a nice young lady?” she asked.
“Er.. yes... Ma'am.”
he reluctantly admitted.
“Good.” she said.
“Who wants to be scruffy little brat of a boy when you can be
pretty little girl?” she asked. Billy didn't reply. Even if he
wanted to he didn't know what to say that wouldn't anger her. Alice
emerged wearing a plain brown frock with long sleeves and a lace
trimmed yolk. Both Billy and Mrs Postlethwaite looked her up and down
and Billy couldn't help but judge her dress against his own. He admitted to no one but himself that he preferred his own.
“I take it you've done cross stitch Alice?” Mrs Postlethwaite
asked.
“Yes Miss.” Alice
replied. Their host presented them with a book full of cross-stitch
patterns, a couple of frames, canvases and a basket full of wool and
suggested they occupy themselves doing some craft. For Billy it was
awkward and slow going to begin with, but after an hour or two he
found his nimble finger and actually began enjoying the process.
Heeding Alice's advice, he'd chosen a design that he felt his mother
might like. A design he could present as a gift to give her on his
return home. He excused himself for willingly undertaking this girlie
activity night after night as he poured his heart and soul into
creating something for his mother and his mother alone. He longed to
be with her again and spent many a moment remembering her smile and
her scent, her loving arms as she wrapped them around him and the
smell of her hearty home cooking each and every evening.
As
the days and weeks passed by, Billy got used to pussyfooting around
the domineering Mrs Postlethwaite, aiming to please and never
complaining. When she wanted water, he fetched the water. When coal
was needed he fetched the coal. He scrubbed the floors and cleaned
the fires, washed potatoes, carrots and turnips and whatever else his
guardian needed doing. But he wasn't alone as Alice was put to work
too and they soon got used to the routine. He also got used to
wearing dresses and a big floppy ribbon in his hair day after day
after day... but he never got used to being laced back into his
corset after his thrice weekly bath each Sunday, Tuesday and Friday.
Once on it felt like a familiar yet ill fitting pair of shoes,
something that one didn't so much endure but certainly couldn't
enjoy... that is until Mrs Postlethwaite stepped up his corset
training and took it in another inch, then it was back to square one;
sleepless nights, shortened breath and a constant crushing feeling
from his hips to his nips.
Billy, Alice and
everybody else in the country hoped the war would be over by
Christmas but Christmas came and went and the stalemate in Europe
continued. Billy sent his mother the cross stitch design he'd made as
a Christmas gift, along with a lengthy letter telling her all about
his stay with Mrs Postlethwaite. However the letter was written under
the watchful eye of his guardian so details were scarce. He wrote
about the little town and the big house, the school and of course his
fellow evacuee and new best friend Alice. He wrote about his teacher
Miss Wainwright, his weekly attendance at church and having to spend
all day on a Sunday reading the bible. He mentioned nothing of his
Sunday dress, his pretty pink day dress or his plain green play
dress, nor did he mention how he's becoming accustomed to wearing a
corset both day and night, or the fact that he attends the girl's
side of the school and has learned to play hop scotch, skipping and
clapping games. His mother sent him a pair of woolly gloves and a
Christmas card which also contained a lengthy letter; bombs had
fallen but she is safe. She's doing her bit for the war effort by
working in the Middleton munitions factory and Dad's still posted
down on the south coast, he sends his love. His mother also writes in
blissful ignorance about how she's sure he's safe and well and happy
in his rural idyll, before signing off and sending a million kisses.
As winter turns to
spring, the trees begin to blossom and the bustle of young life
chirps and rattles in the hedgerows. After a long cold winter wearing
three, sometimes four petticoats beneath their dresses as well as
thick itchy woollen stockings, both Billy and Alice are glad to lose
a few layers as the weather dictates. Charitable bundles of clothing
are donated to the evacuees and both Billy and Alice have a small
selection if new dresses to wear. Having spent some six months
wearing the same three frocks in steady rotation, Billy feels
somewhat overwhelmed now that he has a choice of play and day
dresses. It's also nice to wear something other than his pink 'day'
dress for school.
As well as attending
school as a girl, Billy spends his days fetching and carrying buckets
of water, scuttles of coal and baskets of logs whenever needed. He
scrubs the kitchen, scullery and hallway floors on a weekly basis as
well as helping Alice with the laundry. But it's not all work and no
play as they both have plenty of time to read or work on their
cross-stitch. They skip, play clapping games or cat's cradle and
sometimes play with the dolls which Mrs Postlethwaite kindly gifted
them at Christmas. Alice named hers Vivien after the actress Vivien
Leigh and Billy names his Deanna after the famous singer and starlet.
He feels a bit silly when Alice wants to play dolls but as Alice
says, “It's just like a toy soldier really, only it's a girl not a
boy... and it doesn't have a gun.”
Billy gets what she's
saying and agrees that she's right, but at the end of the day, a doll
is nothing like a toy soldier! For one, he's never made a new dress out of old rags
for any of his toy soldiers, nor has he fashioned any
of them a pretty apron from a tatty old lace doily. Between them, Billy
and Alice create a variety of outfits for Vivien and Deanna and spend
more time than he'd like dressing them... but if Alice wants to play
dolls then Billy will play dolls with her. It's not as if he has a
box full of toy soldiers and a toy fort to play with instead. It's a
bitter/sweet reality and Billy knows he's only pretending to be a
girl, but he can't deny that he enjoys it more than he'd like to
admit. One day his reality will be over and he'll go home and
everything will go back to normal; no more dolls, no more dresses, no
more pretending to act all girlie or learning to be a lady, and no
more corset!
Alice celebrated her
10th birthday in early April and Mrs Postlethwaite hosted
a party in her honour. She even bought Alice a new dress which Alice
described as 'the prettiest she'd ever seen'. With a house full of
school friends and various parents, Mrs Postlethwaite was definitely
in 'nice' mode for the day, but things quickly went back to normal
one the guests had left. The children were put to work clearing up
after the party, cleaning the kitchen and reception rooms and
scrubbing the floors, before being brutally scrubbed themselves in
the small tin bath.
The boys in the village
have more or less stopped taunting and teasing him and seemingly all
of Mrs Postlethwaite's acquaintances no longer cast poor Billy looks
of bemusement and curiosity... so far as the towns-folk are
concerned, it seems that young Billy is a girl, but only an
honorary one. At school, both the boys and girls get together twice a
week to practice country dancing, but none of the boys want to dance
with Billy because boys don't dance with boys, even though Billy now
looks every bit like the other girls. His shoulder length hair is
often curled and bouncy and even his mannerisms; the way he runs,
skips and expresses joy, surprise or excitement are evidently more
girlish than boyish. Everyone refers to him as a girl but they never
say 'she' or 'her'. Young Billy is used to hearing people say things
like 'he's such a pretty girl', 'he's
a delightful young lady' or 'doesn't he
look lovely with his hair in ringlets &
ribbons?' ...that being the
hairstyle his guardian prefers, probably because the overnight
wet-set guarantees him a bad night's sleep. But even Billy is getting
used to having his hair set after his thrice weekly bath and being
sent to bed with damp hair tightly wrapped in prickly metal rollers,
each held in place with a hairpin and covered with a hairnet.
Vintage 1930s Metal Hair Rollers |
Of
all the girls in his class at school, Billy outwardly appears to be
one of the girliest and his teacher Miss Wainwright always goes out
of her way to say how pretty his dress looks and how nice his ringlet
and ribbon clad hair looks. The other girls wear one or maybe two
ribbons whilst Billy wears four, five or sometimes six in his hair.
Alice is shamefully and secretly envious of Billy as Mrs
Postlethwaite never puts her hair in ringlets. She has asked but was
told that her hair is too thick, too wiry and too red. “It'll never
look nice so there's no point in trying... all it's good for is
cutting.” Mrs Postlethwaite tells her. “The only reason I haven't
chopped it off is because it'd blunt my scissors!” she callously
adds. But Alice's envy is only one side of the coin. She knows how
Billy hates having to sleep with his hair bound in the prickly metal
rollers and having it pulled and tugged into a myriad of clips and
ribbons before going to school, the shops or church. The process
might be a pain but the result is very pretty... albeit a little too
pretty as far as Billy is concerned. It has crossed his mind on more
than a few occasions to take a pair of scissors to it and chop it all
off, but he fears the consequences would be far more painful than the
annoying yet bearable rollers.
Much to the
disappointment of the local girls it is announced that this year's
May Queen will be selected from the evacuee girls rather than from
the girls who sing in the church choir (as is the norm). And much to
Billy's disappointment, he's one of the twelve names on the list. The
May Queen is chosen a week before May Day and Billy's relief is two
fold... it's not going to be him but it is going to be Alice, the one
girl who really deserves a moment in the limelight. However Billy is
chosen as one of the May Queen's four subjects which means he's going
to be a prominent part of the procession and crowning ceremony. He'd
rather try to hide himself away in the background but at least he
doesn't have to dance around the May Pole. He and the other
'subjects' sit at Alice's feet wearing pure white dresses and flowers
in their hair and are tasked with arranging the many bouquets the May
Queen was presented with as she sits on her throne. All in all May
Day wasn't a bad day for Billy and for Alice it was like a dream
come true. There was even a big photograph of the May Queen and her
subjects in the weekly newspaper and Mrs Postlethwaite purchased a
framed print of it. Although more or less completely accustomed to
dressing like a girl and seeing his girlie reflection, seeing an
actual photograph of himself dressed as a girl is beyond strange. No
matter how hard he looks at it, he can barely see the boy he knows he
is.
When
the flora really bursts into bloom, Billy and Alice spend some of
their free time walking the lanes and the woods picking wild flowers.
They arrange some into little bouquets with which to appease their
guardian and press others to put in a scrap book. Alice shows Billy
how to make a daisy chain and they spend many a day on the lawn
making each other garlands, headbands, necklaces and bracelets. They
also spend many a stuffy summery day paddling in the secluded beck
wearing only their underwear (knickers, silk chemise and corsets)
whilst their dresses lay neatly folded beneath their shoes on the grassy
bank. Getting their underwear wet is inevitable which means they
spend an hour or so sunbathing on the rocks until they're dry enough
to don their dresses. “I wish Mrs P wouldn't lock our corsets on.”
Alice says as she fiddles with the lose end of the chain that dangles from
her waist. “It'd dry far quicker if I could lay it out in the sun.” she suggests.
By now they're both
completely accustomed to living (and sleeping) in their corsets, so
much so that they happily lace each other back in to their corsets
after their thrice weekly bath and find it's taught support more
comforting than cumbersome. But Mrs Postlethwaite still doesn't fully
trust them so their corsets remain permanently secured with the yard
long curb chain and small brass padlock. “I think I'd feel
positively naked if I didn't at least have my corset on.” Billy
said as he ran his hands over his damp yet drying corset. “I think if I do go back to being a boy, I'd rather do so
with my corset than without it.” he added before wondering if he'd like to be a boy again or not.
Billy casts his mind
back to the previous summer on the outskirts of Manchester; playing
in the streets and alleyways and trying his best to fit in with the
others. He recalls trying and failing to impress the other kids by
climbing walls, bounding gates and fences and generally being a
monkey... but he'd always lacked the agility and mettle of the others
and found himself at the blunt end of their taunts more often than
not. Spending his days playing with Alice or the girls at school is
different; less aggressive and boisterous but equally competitive, if
not more so. Little things such as how he's tied his ribbon or how he
wears his ankle socks seem significant whilst bigger things such as
excelling in a game of hop scotch or beating his opponent in a
competitive clapping game are played down. There's some things he
likes about being one of the girls, and plenty of things he doesn't.
He enjoys skipping with a rope, cross-stitch and learning the names
of all the different flowers, but since his hair has grown
considerably, he hates having it put in ringlets or tight bunches
that bounce and bob around his ears. Once every few days, maybe even
once a week. he tries to recall being a normal boy who wore short
pants and brown socks, a shirt, sometimes a tie and a jacket &
cap. But as the days and weeks stroll on by, that image is becoming
increasingly vague.
Even his dreams are
changing. Sometimes he dreams that he's back home with his mother and
father and more often than not, he's presented with a vision of
himself wearing one of his dresses whilst acting like and being
treated like a girl. It's nice to wake up after dreaming of his
loving mother and heroic father, but its strange knowing that he dreamt of himself as
a girl... but at least he knows they're only dreams.
Billy
celebrated his eleventh birthday on the 12th June, 1941
and Mrs Postlethwaite throws a party for Billy and some of his school
friends. She also buys him a new party dress which Alice described as
'even prettier than her birthday dress'. Alice gifted him a
cross-stitch design she's made bearing the name William in
ornate lettering and surrounded with flowers and butterflies. Billy
graciously receives the gift and Mrs Postlethwaite hangs it above his
bed. He also receives a birthday card and lengthy letter from his
mother. All is well with her and father is doing well in hospital
after catching a few bullets during a low altitude bombing raid over
Nazi occupied Belgium; his father's leg is badly damaged but he may
walk again. She wishes Billy a happy birthday and hopes he's still
having a lovely time living in the countryside. She finishes the
letter by apologising for not being with her son on his birthday and
hopes he likes the gift she's sent, before begging him to write soon
and sending a billion kisses.
Billy puts the card
alongside his others on the mantle before opening the gift from his
mother. “Ohh.” he says as he peels away the wrapping paper to
reveal a Deanna Durbin paper doll dress up book. Although grateful,
Billy is unsure why his mother has given him a paper doll book; is
it because she knows he likes Deanna Durbin, the famous singer and
cinema starlet whom all the boys and most of their fathers adore, or
because she knows he's living as a girl? It is after all a girl's
gift and not something one would normally give to a boy.
1941 Paper Doll 'cut out' Book showing front & back cover and a selection of pages |
The day after his
birthday, Billy begins to write a letter to his mother thanking her
for the gift and telling her about his modest yet enjoyable birthday party. He also
tells her about Alice being crowned May Queen and says that he was
chosen as one of her 'subjects', but left out any details regarding
his outfit. As with the other letters he'd written, Mrs Postlethwaite
reads through it before allowing him to send it. She claims it's so
she can check his spelling and handwriting, but Billy suspects it's
to make sure he's not spilling the beans about having to be a girl.
“Your handwriting's lovely Billy.” Mrs Postlethwaite compliments,
“Very elegant!” she adds before pointing out a couple of minor
grammatical errors. “I see you've told her about taking part in the
May Queen ceremony.” she says. Billy gulps and nods, fully
expecting to be told to rewrite the letter with such details
removed... but much to his surprise she routes out the old newspaper
and suggests sending her the cutting of the May Queen photograph and
its accompanying article.
A
couple of weeks later, Billy receives a return letter from his mother
and it's not good news. Father had contracted gangrene in hospital
which meant his leg had to be amputated, and unfortunately his father
didn't make it through the operation. Through tearful eyes, Billy
read the letter to the end before sobbing uncontrollably in Mrs
Postlethwaite's arms. Alice watched from the staircase, her heart
sank as she imagined the pain that Billy must be going through. Alice
also felt a rare soft spot for their domineering guardian as she
consoles the boy, she can be nice and caring when she wants to be...
it's just a pitty it's not very often. Later that evening after
weeping in Alice's arms, Billy reads her the last bit of the letter
where his mother says “Alice looks very pretty and is most
deserving to be crowned May Queen, and you look very pretty too
Billy. I can't believe you wore a dress for the day but I'm very glad you
did.'” Billy read, before hesitantly asking Alice's opinion as to
whether or not his mother may or may not know that he's living as a
girl.
“I expect not.”
Alice replied. “She says that she can't believe you wore a dress
for 'the day'... if she'd written 'I can't believe you're wearing
dresses now' then it'd be obvious she knows, but I’m quite certain
she thinks it was just for May Day.”
“But she did send me
a paper doll book for my birthday.” Billy reminded Alice. “...and
boy's don't play with paper dolls.” he added, thinking 'apart from
me'.
“So... what do you
think your mother would do if she knew the truth?” Alice asked.
“I don't know.”
Billy replied. “I'd hope she'd come and take me home but with the
Luftwaffe threat, she might not be allowed to.” he added. “I
think if she did know she'd at least try to stop it so I can go back
to being a boy again.”
“Do you want to be a
boy again?”
“Of course!” Billy
retorted. “Boy's don't have to have their hair put in rollers
before bed.” he said.
“They don't wear
pretty dresses either.” Alice replied. “Wouldn't you miss those?”
“Yes but... I wasn't
meant to wear dresses.” Billy replied. “It's only because Mrs
Postlethwaite doesn't like boys that I have to wear them.”
“Maybe when you do go
back to being a boy, you could still have a couple of dresses to
wear.” Alice suggested. “...and you wouldn't have to wear a
corset any more or sleep in rollers.”
“Maybe.” Billy
replied. “It'll be strange wearing boy's clothes again.” he said
as he looked down at his dress. “...and I can't imagine being
without my corset.”
“I can't imagine you
dressed as boy... you look so much nicer in girl's clothes.” Alice
said.
“Because girl's
clothes are nicer.” Billy stated. “I suppose it would be
nice have at least one.” he dreamily added.
“What are you girls
chattering about?” Mrs Postlethwaite asked as she appeared at the
doorway.
“Wearing dresses.”
Billy replied.
Mrs Postlethwaite
smiled sweetly at the boy as he looked up at her with his tear
stained puppy dog eyes. “I've been thinking... since the terrible
news today, would like like to stay in Alice's room from now on
instead of sleeping on your own?”
“Erm... may I?”
Billy asked.
“Oh yes please Miss.”
Alice exclaimed.
“Now you're not to
stay up chatting all night, otherwise I'll have to separate you.”
Mrs Postlethwaite said before helping them move Billy's creaky old
wrought iron bed frame, mattress and bedding into Alice's bedroom.
She even hammered a nail into the wall so Billy could hang the
cross-stitch name plaque above his bed.
“I'll have to make
you one to go over your bed.” Billy suggested.
“For my birthday?”
Alice excitedly asked. “Oh Billy I’d love that!”
Billy smiled and told
her that it wouldn't be for her birthday since that's not until next
year. “I just want to make you something.” he said.
Over the following evenings, Billy spent his free time working on Alice's name plaque when he wasn't bawling his eyes out and thinking of his father. He
more or less copied the one she'd made him, picking out her name in
ornate pink letters and adding a floral surround. In spite of his new
found sadness, Billy felt so much happier sleeping in Alice's room,
especially when he finds himself dwelling on the loss of his father,
missing his mother or waking up from a bad dream... Alice is always
there to cuddle and comfort him and he can't imagine ever being
without her.
It's mid July and the six
week summer break is just around the corner. Billy is just as excited
as the other girls when Miss Wainwright tells the class that they can
wear their very best dresses on the last day of school. She's also
one of the few grown ups who tells the children what's going on in
Europe and optimistically suggests that the war may be over sooner
rather than later since Hitler began his invasion of Russia. “It's
a very large and powerful country and hopefully the Nazis have bitten
off more than they can chew.” she tells them. On the way home,
Billy and Alice are both in a highly optimistic mood. But it's more
due to their excitement of wearing their best dresses for school
rather than any real expectation that this seemingly endless war may
soon be over.
“Will you come and
visit me when the war's over?” Alice asks as she buttons Billy into
his very best dress; the one Mrs Postlethwaite gave him for his
birthday. It's bright yellow with broad white stripes running down
it. It boasts a pair of short puffed sleeves in white voile and a
white lace trimmed collar, and beneath its full knee-length skirt he
wears a voluminous white petticoat.
“I
want you to live with me when the war's over.” Billy replied. “We
could all live in a big house like this... but with your mum and dad
and my mum and...” he paused to lower his voice, “...no Mrs
Postlethwaite.”
“A big house in the
countryside.” Alice dreamily added as she tied his broad satin sash
in a big fancy bow. “Or a big house in the city?” she asked as
she turned him around to face her.
“I don't know.”
billy shrugged. “Just one big enough so we can all live together.”
he said before looking down at himself and running his hands over the
smooth satin fabric. “I can't believe we're going to wear our best
dresses for school today.”
“I can't believe it's
the last day of term already!” Alice replied. “Have you decided
what you're going to take for show and tell?” she asked.
“I suppose I'll have
to take Deanna.” Billy replied, picking up his only toy. He
considered taking the paper dolls his mother had gifted him but
didn't want to risk them getting damaged. Alice suggested he take the
cross-stitch name plaque he'd made her, but Billy decided against
that for the same reason. So on the last day of school before they
break up for summer, Billy walks to school wearing his best and
poshest party dress and clutching the doll he calls Deanna. All the
other girls wear their best dresses too and some also bring their
favourite doll whilst others bring a book, an heirloom, some craft or
a toy. Instead of lessons they play games and have lots of fun, until
show and tell which is a little tedious. Nervous children take turns standing at the front of the class and talk shyly
about whatever item they've brought. When
it's Billy's turn, he shyly introduces the class to his doll. “I
named her Deanna after Deanna Durbin...” some of the girls giggle
whilst others approve. “...and I made her dress out of an old
apron...” he says “...and Mrs Postlethwaite gave me her for
Christmas.”
“Well done William.”
Miss Wainwright says before prompting the class to applaud him. “And
that's a lovely dress you've made for your dolly... did you make her
apron too?” she asked.
“It used to be a
doily.” Billy told her. “But it was a bit tatty so I asked Mrs
Postlethwaite if I could turn it into an apron for Deanna.”
“Oh how very clever.”
Miss Wainwright said in that warm yet patronising tone that teachers
often use. She sent him back to his seat and called the next girl
forward who talked for several minutes about her favourite book. The
disinterest amongst the class clearly eluded this girl as she talked
excitedly about the characters and plot, but they applauded her
anyway. After everyone had had their turn at show-and-tell, the girls
played more party games until lunchtime and that was it... no more
school until September.
Miss Wainwright says farewell to each and everyone of her girls as they leave and asks Alice and Billy if they're looking forward to summer. “Hopefully this awful war will be over soon and you'll both be able to go home which means I won't see you again.” their teacher says with a smile and a frown.
Miss Wainwright says farewell to each and everyone of her girls as they leave and asks Alice and Billy if they're looking forward to summer. “Hopefully this awful war will be over soon and you'll both be able to go home which means I won't see you again.” their teacher says with a smile and a frown.
“I hope we do Miss.”
Billy says. “I mean... I want the war to end and I want to go home,
but I like being in your class too.” he tells her, adding. “I
don't think I’d like to go back to the boy's class.”
Miss Wainwright smiles
at Billy and places her hands gently on his shoulders. “And I can
see why.” she smiled as she arranged his dainty little sleeves,
puffing them out to make them look as pretty as possible. “It's
hard to believe there's really a little boy inside this dress.” she
said. “You've been every bit the perfect little lady right from the
start Billy, but I'm sure when the time comes to be a boy again,
you'll quickly realise that you haven't forgotten how.” she told him. “I expect it's a bit like riding a bike... you never
really forget how to do it, you just get out of practise.”
Miss Wainwright then
turns to Alice and tells her that she was a beautiful May Queen, “The
prettiest I've seen.” she claimed, before advising the girl to take
no notice of anything anyone says. “You're lucky to have such
lovely thick red hair... you're a proper English rose.” she told
her. Alice tells Miss Wainwright that she's the nicest teacher she's
ever had, and if the war doesn't end soon, at least she'll have her
class too look forward to. “Oh thank you Alice. That's a lovely
thing to say.” their teacher smiles before turning back to Billy.
“And you'll be off the secondary school in September... are you
looking forward to it?” she asked.
“Not really.” he
replied. “If the war does end I'll have to go back to boy's school
and if it doesn't I'll have to go to the girl's secondary school
here.”
“Well wherever you
end up, I'm sure you'll fit in perfectly.” Miss Wainwright assured.
Billy isn't so sure. He
felt like an outsider at his junior school in Denton and he'll still
be an outsider at the secondary school there... more so when they
find out that he's been a girl for so long. Then there's the girl's
secondary school here... he'll be in an environment where most people
won't know he's really a boy but they'll quickly find out, and that
could go either way. He and Alice discuss their hopes and fears for
the future as they walk back up the hill. Will the war end or wont
it? Will they be allowed to go home or won't they? All they can do is
sit things out and see what the future brings. At least Mrs
Postlethwaite isn't as mean as she used to be... she is very much
still firm with the children in her care but since Billy lost his
father she has softened a little.
They're
only two weeks into their summer break when Mrs Postlethwaite takes
Billy into to town to get his new school uniform. “But, what if the
war ends and I can go back home?” he says, thinking it's far too
soon to assume he'll still be an evacuee when September comes. Mrs
Postlethwaite tells him that the war is unlikely to end any time soon
as she puts the black pleated gymslip over his head. “But... what
if the bomb threat is lifted?” he asked, knowing that some children
have already returned home for that very reason.
Mrs Postlethwaite
shuffles his gymslip into position and steps back to have a look at
him. “The bomb threat has been lifted.” she tells him.
“So I can go home!”
Billy exclaimed.
“You could, but your
mother and I have agreed that it's best to keep you here until the
war is over.” she tells him.
“Oh.” he whines
like an injured puppy. “Why?”
“Because she's busy
working in the munitions factory and you're busy becoming a young
lady.”
Billy gulps before
asking, “Does she know?”
“That you're learning
to be a lady?” Mrs Postlethwaite asked as she placed a straw boater
on his head. The boy nodded then looked up at the brim of his hat.
“Of course. I wrote to her at Christmas and told her all about it.”
“Why didn't you tell
me?” Billy asked. Mrs Postlethwaite claimed that she simply assumed
that he was aware that his mother knew. She reminded him about the
paper dolls he was given for his birthday, and that he'd sent his
mother a newspaper clipping that shows him taking part in the May Day
celebrations. “What did she say?” he asked in a bemused and whiny
voice.
“Well at first she
asked lots of questions but she soon came round to my way of
thinking.” Mrs Postlethwaite told the boy as she picked a stray
thread from his gymslip.
“And what's that?”
Billy impatiently asked.
“Well I explained to
her how bratty and boisterous boys can be, how much of a handful they
are and how I had no intention of housing one.” she told him.
“...and I described how pleasant and charming you've become now
that you're dressing like a girl, and how pretty you look.” she
said. “I told her about your corset training and that I intended to
let your hair grow so you could wear ringlets as well as ribbons and
you mother said it all sounded very nice and she wished she could be
here with you.”
“Oh.” Billy
thoughtfully replied. “Does that mean she wants me to be a girl
too?” he asked as he looked up at Mrs Postlethwaite. She nodded and
smiled through pursed lips. “But I'll never be a real girl.”
Billy said.
“No.” Mrs
Postlethwaite replied. “...and you'll never be a normal boy
either.” she told him. “How does that make you feel?”
Billy gulped and
thought for a moment. “I don't know.” he replied. “I don't
really want to go back to being a boy, but I'm scared of trying to be
a girl too.” he said. He looked down at the black pleated gymslip
which hangs like a shapeless sack from his shoulders. “Especially
when I go to the big school and they find out I'm really a boy.”
“Oh don't worry about
that Billy... the girls at Barton Road are used to boys like you.” she tells
him. “Well... not boys quite like you.” she says. “You're a
good boy.” she states. Billy gulps and listens with intent, waiting
for her to continue. Why the long pause? he thinks. “At Barton
Road...” she begins (finally!) “...they send the naughty boys to
the girl's wing until they learn to behave, and like you they also
have to dress and act like good little girls... so you've nothing to
worry about.”
Billy isn't sure
whether this revelation is a good or a bad thing. It's a lot to get
his head around. Not only has he just discovered that he could go
back home, and that his mother knows all about him being a girl...
and that his mother is happy for him to stay here, as a girl
until at least the end of the war, but also that he's unlikely to
ever go back to being a 'normal' boy. And on top of all that, he'll be
attending a girl's school where the really naughty kids from the
boy's school are sent; all the bullies and the bruisers who thrive
off picking on the misfits and weaklings, and Billy knows he's both.
Mrs Postlethwaite tells
him he looks very 'smart' in his secondary school uniform, but Billy
isn't convinced. “Why can't we wear a nice dress with a pinny like
we do at Junior school?” he asks in a whiny tone of voice.
The prospect of wearing
the same bland black gymslip day after day after day doesn't sit easy
with him, but Mrs Postlethwaite tells Billy that all the girl's will
be dressed the same. “And you can always wear one of your pretty
dresses after school, so you'll have that to look forward to.”
With his uniform
purchased, Billy and his guardian make their way back up the hill to
the house. He has plenty on his mind and plenty to talk to Alice
about and he wastes no time in bending her ear. Alice listens
patiently whilst he tells her that his mother knows all about him
being a girl and that she possibly wants him to remain a girl for good... and that the
bomb threat has been lifted and he could go home but his mother wants
him to stay here with Mrs Postlethwaite! He barely takes a breath as
he blurts the information in Alice's direction and when he does
finally pause to breathe... “I know.” Alice says with a
sigh as she picks up a handwritten letter from her bedside table. “I
received a letter from mother this morning and she wants me to go
home.” she tells him.
Billy yelps “Nooo!”
and thrusts his arms around her. “Please don't leave me, you can't
leave me!” he pleads as tears well up in his eyes.
“Believe me Billy, I
don't want to leave you here on your own.” Alice tells him. “But
I can't stay here if my mother wants me to return home.” she
explains. “If it was up to me I'd stay, believe me I would... but
it's not my decision Billy.”
Billy knows she's
right. She is after all only a ten year old girl, but she's also been
his rock, his best and only true friend and in spite of being younger
than he, she's his big sister too. Two days later Alice has packed her case
and is ready to leave. She wears a pretty yellow dress and Billy
says, “That's the first dress I ever wore.”
“Oh yes!” Alice
recalls as she looks down at the dress. “I felt so sorry for you
that day... sitting in the bath whilst Mrs P put your pants and socks
on the fire and cut up your shirts and vests.”
“That was the last
time I felt like a normal boy.” Billy commented.
“It was also the last
day before we were put in our corsets.” Alice added. “I can't
imagine not wearing it now.” she said as she rested her hands on
her shapely waist and hips.
Billy agreed. “We'd
be clumsy and frumpy like Betty Fletcher.” he said, Betty being a
big girl from school who's forever bumping into things and dropping
things. She can't skip, can't hop or clap or catch and she certainly
can't dance. Miss Wainwright used to say 'if there's ever a girl who
needs a corset it's Betty Fletcher'. “You won't have to wear yours
any more.” Billy said.
“I know.” Alice
replied. “But I hope mother will let me wear it.” she added since
both she and Billy can't imagine being without their corsets. “Will
you write to me?” she asked, giving him her address written in her
best hand writing on her best writing paper.
“Of course.” Billy
assured. “I'll write every week!” he claimed.
Billy and Mrs
Postlethwaite walk Alice down to the train station. They wait on the
platform in silence and as the train comes into view, they share a
tearful goodbye. The train blows its whistle and Alice blows Billy as
kiss through the window as the train begins to pull away, taking his
best and only friend with it.
“It seems like such a
shame to tear you two apart after all you've been through together.”
Mrs Postlethwaite says. “I'm sure you'll see her again Billy.”
she assured before taking him back to her house on the hill.
Billy goes up to his
room and sits on Alice's bed. He looks down at his dress and smiles
as he smooths it over his lap. It's not one of his favourites but he
wore it for Alice; she always said he suited blue best of all and he
wanted to look nice for her on their final day together. He looks up
at the wall to where the cross-stitch name plaque he'd made her used
to hang and sees only a nail. “Oh Alice!” he blubbers before crumpling onto her pillow and sobbing his heart out.
...to be continued (maybe).
A very sweet story, i do hope there well be more.
ReplyDeleteYes good story, , some evacuees went through similar experiences. Really enjoyable. Some folks really did not understand children-My mother was an evacuee and told me really some quite amusing stories of her time. One incident was going out with the couples son to the cinema. Sounds harmless, however it was a salvation army family and she "tempted" him on a Sunday to go to the pictures. This caused a storm.
ReplyDeleteShe also had a happy time with one family and has kept in touch with them to this day. (My mum is in her late eighty's).
great story - but I would love to know if Billy continued wearing his dresses and stockings after the war and what about his corset- does he do this voluntarily or by the force of his mother - especially as his father is no longer around to comment otherwise ??
ReplyDeleteAnd what about Alice - does She volunteer to wear her corset - or is she forced by her mother / parents ?? Is she allowed to by her Mother / parents ??
Do Alice and Billy manage to keep there word and stay in contact after Alice leaves Mrs P's house ??
I fully realize this, like most or all of your stories is fiction - but I fully support the petticoating of boys.
Cheers and thanks for writing it
This was a lovely and i would love to know what happened to billy and Alice
ReplyDeleteLoved it☺
ReplyDeleteYour
When will you be writing the sequel?
ReplyDeleteI'd completely forgotten that I'd put 'to be continued' at the end. Erm... not sure if there's going to be one, but I'll have a think about it.
DeleteBeautiful story and some sad parts I can't wait for the next instalment
ReplyDeleteTrès belle histoire comme toutes vos histoires que j'ai pu lire. Je vous félicite. Cette histoire ma particulièrement émue avec Billy et Alice. Bravos
ReplyDelete