...and a Happy New Year!

“Course it was.” I claimed, looking down at myself. “If I was called Alan or Andrew she wouldn't have got mixed up.”

“Yes I suppose.” Mum said. She handed us another gift each, this time from a family friend in the village.

Janet's gift was about eight times larger than mine so I felt a little envy even before we'd unwrapped them. That quickly dissipated when my sister unwrapped a tabletop make-up mirror and I unwrapped a Rubik's Snake. “Oh cool.” I exclaimed as I removed the puzzle from its box and began to contort it into various shapes as Janet showed our mother her make-up mirror, which has a handy tray for her earrings and things. Eventually the mirror went back in its box and Mum reminded us to remember who each gift was from, adding that we'll have to write our thank you letters tomorrow. “My letter to Aunt Alice is going to be interesting!” I chuckled. “Thank you so much for my lovely dress... it's my favourite colour.”

Janet retorted with her usual sharp whit. “Thank you so much for my lovely dress Aunt Alice, it's my favourite collar!”

We smirked then giggled. Mum asked if I was going to keep my dress on all day. “No but I'll keep it on for a bit.” I replied. “It's still quite funny that she got me one... and horrendous as it looks, it does feel quite nice... in a weird sort of way.”

“The sooner I take this off the better.” Alice said, but I convinced her to keep it on for a while longer.

“Mine's no fun if you're not wearing yours.” I said.

“OK.” my sister sighed.

I'd clean forgotten about the book our Aunt Alice had gifted to my mother. My sister and I continued unwrapping gifts and eating mince pies. I seemed to get high street vouchers from various relatives who'd chosen my sister a proper gift. It seemed odd but I wasn't disappointed... however I would have thought that if they're giving me a high street voucher then why not my sister too? Janet wasn't bothered and liked the girlie stuff she'd been gifted; make-up, toiletries, hosiery and inexpensive jewellery.

On boxing day as Janet and I sat writing our thank you letters, I overheard Mum on the telephone. “... are you? … oh that'll be nice … no it'll be lovely to see you … oh I er ... I know but … well, if you insist … I don't think Janet would be too happy … yes I suppose … oh yes he got lots of vouchers … well, in that case I suppose … yes … of course … we'll see you then. Bye.”

“Who was that?” I asked.

“Aunt Alice.” Mum replied. “Have you written her thank you letter yet?”

“Yeah... I figured I'd keep it vague and brief.” I confessed as I rooted it out and handed it to my mother. She approved of the message and handed it back to me.

“What wouldn't I be too happy about?” Janet asked. Mum said it was nothing, in fact she said it twice. “Is she coming here?” Janet asked. Mum nodded. “That means I'll probably have to wear that horrid dress again.” she growled.

“I won't have to wear mine will I?” I asked. “You can just show her the photograph.”

“Yeah.” Janet agreed.

“Well the film won't be developed in time.” Mum said. “And I think it would be nice if you were both wearing your dresses when she arrives.”

“It was funny on Christmas day.” Janet said. “The last thing I want to wear is my dress again!” she added. Whilst my dress may well be horrible, Janet's is absolutely horrendous; like wearing a big pink mitten, she claimed. “At least yours isn’t so bad.”

“Yeah but I'm a boy.” I retorted.

“Yeah, and Aunt Alice is going to turn up on Sunday and go 'oh Alex I’m so silly, I thought you were a girl... me and my daft old brain' and we'll all laugh, you'll be allowed to change and I’ll have to wear mine all day.” Janet ranted. “I've got it way worse than you.” she moaned.

“Yeah I guess.” I said. I could empathise with my sister. Whilst being a girlie girl, she's really not girlie enough to like anything about her dress. Even the shade of pink is wrong, being neither baby nor candy but somewhere in between. Like the pink version of turquoise, she described it, but my favourite was her comparison of it to a duck-billed platypus; the dress Aunt Alice gifted her being part nightie part mitten and part who knows what, she dubbed it the 'pinkfrilled platyfrock'. The dress Aunt Alice gave me is just a dress. A horrible one in my opinion but just a dress.

The day after boxing day used to be the first day everyone would go into town and spend their gift vouchers and/or return their unwanted gifts to Argos for a cash refund and spend it in the sales. Mum took me into town. Janet wanted to come too but Mum wouldn't let her and gave her a really lame excuse. I suspected something odd was going on but could never have predicted what. I figured it was something to do with Janet. I suspected she might be in trouble for something, hence not being allowed to go shopping in the sales with all her gift vouchers. Mum checked that I had all my gift vouchers before we left. I was given five in total, which added up to £17. Mum put them in her purse for safe keeping and we left.

Usually she'd park in the multi-story car-park but today, she drove all the way to the end of the high street and parked in a small pay & display. “Why are we parking here?” I asked, envisaging the long walk to all the big shops.

“Because I need to go to a shop down here.” Mum replied. Mum headed directly to a double fronted shop named Felicity Haines lingerie and dance wear specialists. The window display to the left of the entrance features women's undergarments; camisoles, knickers, stockings, girdles and teddies. In the other window is nothing but dance wear; leotards, unitards, tights, leggings, tutus, cardigans and a variety of shoes. Stencilled on the glass in a bold gold font is the words Ballet, Jazz & Tap, Country, and Modern. Stencilled on the other window in the same font is: Brassieres, Corsetry, Shapewear, and Petticoating. I suggested that I'd wait outside, although I planned to wait by the shop next door. Mum ignored my suggestion and opened the door. “In you go.” she said.

I gulped and entered the store and in keeping with its window displays, one side of the shop is entirely underwear and the other is dance wear. A silver haired lady appears and greets us. “Oh, hello.” my mother said. “We're shopping for some underwear.”

“Boy's underwear?” the lady asked, glancing at me. Mum nodded. “This way.” the lady said, leading us through the ladies' underwear section. She drew us to a halt, but I couldn't see any boy's underwear. “Are you looking for a specific colour or style?”

“Definitely blue.” Mum said to the lady. “To match your dress.” she said to me.

I tried to protest but I was absolutely speechless. My lips moved, my jaw moved but my tongue lay dormant and no sounds came out. “Let me know if you need anything.” the lady said before walking back to the counter.

After managing to actually swallow my tongue and finally regained the ability to speak “I don't need any of this stuff Mum.” I said in hushed tones. My mother reminded me that I'd be wearing my dress on Sunday. “Yeah but... it doesn't matter what's under it.”

“I believe it does.” Mum replied in the same hushed tones. I reiterated that it doesn't. “In that case, you won't mind wearing these.” she said, removing a pair of frilly blue panties. I did a U turn and agreed that it does matter what I wear under my dress, and stated that I don't want to wear knickers. “But everyone wears knickers under a dress Alex.” mum informed me.

“I didn't on Christmas Day.”

“Only because you didn't have any.” Mum said.

“But I don't need any... no one's going to see what's under my dress on Sunday, and I'll only have it on for an hour or two at most.”

It quickly became clear that Mum was going to buy me some knickers whether I liked it or not. “I don't need one of those Mum!” I loudly whispered when she removed a bra with frilly blue trim that perfectly matched the the frilly panties she liked. Mum asked why not. “Because it's a bra!” I stated under my breath.

“It's only a training bra.” Mum said, before adding that I’m thirteen and if I'm going to wear knickers than I have to at least wear a training bra as well. They way she expressed 'at least' made me believe that it was either a training bra or a proper one, not that I knew the difference either way. Just like the panties, Mum was not going to take no for an answer.

She snaked her way through the various shelves and stands, slowly eyeing the slips and suspender belts and other feminine items as she sauntered in the general direction of the counter. I sheepishly followed but tried not to look at anything, especially the garments hanging from their individual plastic hangers dangling from her fingers. “Ooh.” Mum said as she drew to halt. Being behind her, I did too and turned my eyes to a row of plastic mannequin legs on which socks and stockings and tights are displayed. “These are nice.” she said, thumbing the frilly cuff of a sock. The more I look at it the more abhorrent it becomes. For a start, it's a knee sock. Secondly, it's pure white. Thirdly, it's lacy rather than woollen. The fourth disdainful fact is all the love hearts knitted into the pattern... and finally, it's the two inches of frilly white fabric around the cuff.

“I'm not wearing those Mum.” I gulped, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “I'll wear a pair of Janet's tights again.”

“You can't wear tights over frilly knickers.” she told me as if I should already know that. “All the frills would get flattened.” she added as she dangled the knickers on their little plastic hanger in my face

My jaw dropped when she showed me the back of the knickers she'd chosen; row upon row of pale blue lacy frills covering the bum. “With knickers like this you either wear socks or stockings, which means you'll need a garter belt as well.” Mum told me. I suggested plain socks, white ones if need be but definitely plain, but Mum was adamant that I'd be wearing 'nice' socks. “Unless you want stockings and a garter belt?”

“Noo.” I moaned.

Mum gave me a look and grabbed a pack of the frilly lace knee socks, then marched to the counter. “Very nice.” the lady smiled. She glanced at me as she totted up the price tags on the knickers, bra and box of socks. “That's twelve pounds and ninety seven pence please.”

Mum opened her purse. “I trust you accept high street vouchers.” she said, removing my gift vouchers from the back of her purse.

“Of course.” the lady smiled as my jaw dropped. I was speechless as my mother handed over the £5 voucher from Uncle James, the £5 voucher Auntie Pat and the £3 voucher from Janice, mum's best friend. I wanted to cry as my vouchers went into the till, then my knickers, bra and socks went into a carrier bag.

“Mu-um.” I quietly gasped.

“Yes Alex?” Mum smugly asked.

“You've just spent most of my vouchers.” I gulped.

“You mean you have.” she smiled. “Come on.” she said before thanking the lady and marching toward the door. I sheepishly followed, out of the shop and directly back to the car, parked a mere twenty yards away. I figured we'd now go to the multi-story car park but she drove me directly home. “Why can't I spend the rest of my vouchers?” I sulked.

“Well you don't want to spend them all at once do you?”

“I didn't want to spend any of them on girl's stuff that I’m only going to wear once.”

“You socks may be girls Alex but your panties and training bra are most definitely made for boys.”

“How can they be?” I blurted. Mum told me that my training bra has flat cups because I’m a boy with a flat chest, and that my knickers don't have a flat front like girl's knickers have, because I'm not flat like a girl. “Oh.” I glumly said. “I still don't see why I need them... no ones going to see them.” I grumbled.

“In that case they'll be out of sight and out of mind.” Mum said.

I sulked in silence all the way home. I had seventeen pounds in vouchers and intended to buy some music and a book, maybe a model kit or something too... but now I've only got £4 left which is just about enough for only one of those things.

Janet was in the kitchen when we returned. Mum placed the carrier bag on the table before removing her overcoat. “Felicity Haines.” Janet said, reading the logo on the bag. “What have you been buying from there?”

“Some underwear for Alex.” Mum said, causing me to instantly blush. “To wear with his dress on Sunday.” Mum added.

I slowly hung my head at the exact same time that my sister's jaw slowly dropped. She composed herself. “Can I see?” she asked, or more... gasped.

“No!” I whined.

“Oh please?” Janet pleaded. “Is it girl's underwear?” she grinned.

“It's boy's underwear.” mum told her. “But it is very girlie.” she added, before asking me if I wanted to show my sister my new undies.

“No.” I sulked. “I didn't even want new undies.” I murmured.

Mum didn't show my sister my new undies but my sister wasted no time coming to my room to ask me about them. Janet believed me when I stressed that I really didn't want them but Mum insisted that I needed them. “You seem pretty glum about it.” she commented.

“Mum bought them with my vouchers.” I informed her. “I've only got four pound left.” I sighed.

“You spent thirteen pounds on a pair of knickers?!” she exclaimed. I timidly told her about the bra and the frilly knee socks, before meekly justifying the bra, parroting what Mum had said about it being a 'training' bra with flat cups to fit a boy's chest. “Oh.” she bemusedly replied. “Bit strange that they make bras for boys.”

“Tell me about it.”

Janet mused for a moment. I spent that moment just wanting her to leave me alone. “I wonder if this has got anything to do with that petticoating book Aunt Alice gave to Mum.” she said. I vaguely recalled a fleeting glimpse of its cover on Christmas Day when Janet and I were getting giddy in our dresses... but then I recalled seeing the word 'petticoating' on the window of the underwear shop. My sister said something but I missed it. “Don't you remember?” she asked. I didn't. Janet continued. “When Mum unwrapped the book, she said I don't think Alex’s dress was a mistake.”

“Vaguely.” I said. “But she was only teasing... or something.”

My sister raised an eyebrow. “...and now Aunt Alice is coming on Sunday, we've got to wear our dresses again... what if Aunt Alice didn't think Alex was a girl's name?”

“But she must have... otherwise she wouldn't have bought me a dress.” I gulped. “What is petticoating?” I asked.

“I don't know, but Mum's got a book about it.” Janet replied.

“And it was advertised on Felicity Haines' shop window.” I glumly added.

“Hmm.” Janet mused. “Maybe we'll find out on Sunday.”

I did ask Mum about it later on but she said “Never you mind.” The next day I overheard my sister ask Mum about petticoating after breakfast and Mum said “It's none of your concern.”

Being Christmas week, we had some family obligations so neither my sister nor I saw much of our friends. Mum drove all the way to Helmfordshire to visit distant cousins, who found the anecdote about me getting a dress hilarious. I'd have found it funny too if I hadn't since acquired some appropriate undergarments, but I pretended to laugh along. Thankfully our cousin Jonathan who's also my age wasn't there. I expect he'd have been more inclined to taunt me than laugh along. Jonathan was away on a school trip to Lichtenstein of all places. I didn't know exactly where it was so it was pointed out to me in an atlas. “Wow!” I exclaimed. Such a tiny country, nestled in the Alpine mountains must be amazing, although going on a school trip over new year did seem strange to me, but apparently, the boarding school he attends always does exchange trips during the holidays.

On Saturday we were invited to Mrs Barnet's who has a large house in the village. There were loads of people there; Mrs & Mrs Brown from down the lane, the Vicar, Mrs and Mrs James and their three kids, George and Andrew from school and their parents and various people and families I wasn't familiar with. There was huge buffet, party games, a disco, adults drinking a little too much. It was fun if a little overwhelming, and thankfully my mother or sister didn't share the anecdote about my muddled old aunt thinking Alex was a girl's name.

I slept easy on Saturday night... but had I known that my mother intended to put me in my dress the first thing on Sunday morning I doubt I'd have slept quite so soundly. The first thing I see after peeling my eyes open is the shimmering blue frock hanging on my wardrobe door. After opening my bedroom curtains, I noticed that hung from the front of my frock is my knickers and bra, hanging from their little plastic hangers.

I pulled on my dressing gown and crept out of my room, avoiding the creaky floorboard outside my mother's room and headed to the bathroom. Just as I approached the bathroom door, my mother's bedroom door opened and my mother stepped out. “You're up.” she said. I gulped. “I've run you a bath so after you've done your toilet, I want you straight in.” my mother told me.

“A bath?” I groaned. “Can't I have breakfast first?”

I couldn't. I don't know when Mum ran the bath because it wasn't exactly hot when I sank through its bubbles. I had barely a minute to myself before Mum burst in and picked up the pyjamas that I'd left strewn across the bathroom floor. “Mu-um I'm having a bath!” I said.

“I know Alex. I'm here to make sure you have a proper one for once.” she said, wasting no time kneeling beside the bath, plunging a sponge in the water and proceeding the wash me. “Mu-um I'm thirteen!” I blubbered through the water being squeezed over my head.

“Stop acting like a baby then!” Mum said.

She was like a whirlwind as she shampooed and rinsed and conditioned my hair, scrubbed my arms and hands and shoulders and back before standing me up and scrubbing everything else! “Mum the door's wide open!” I yelped.

“Oh never mind that I'll only be a second.” she said as she quickly scrubbed me from belly to knee. “Sit down.” she instructed. “Give me your feet.”

I didn't have any problem sinking back onto all the bubbles, but I clung on the bath's handles for dear life as Mum scrubbed my toes, feet, shins and calves. “Right you're done.” she said as she pulled out the plug.”

I felt overwhelmed having just had the quickest, most thorough bath I've ever had. The water gargled down the plug hole. The bubbles clung to my body as the level slowly and steadily dropped. “Janet I'm in the bath!” I yelped as my sister appeared at the wide open door.

“I've never seem such a frilly pair of knickers, let alone worn any!” she giggled, holding my knickers on their little plastic hanger.

“Put them back!” I growled.

“Put Alex's knickers back in his room Janet.” Mum said in her serious voice. “He'll be needing them in a minute.” she added. My sister sniggered and disappeared. Mum stood me up and rinsed the bubbles off me, before talking to me with big fluffy towel, then dousing me in talcum powder. I coughed and spluttered in the cloud of fine powder, then before I could even catch my breath, she wrapped the towel around me and marched me to my bedroom. “I don't why you're looking so worried Alex... you've worn it before.”

“I know but... it was funny then.” I gulped. “Aunt Alice didn't buy it by mistake did she?”

“You'll have to ask her when she arrives.” Mum said as she unclipped my knickers from their little plastic hanger. I stepped into then but couldn't look as I pulled them up. They felt nothing at all like my Y fronts as they settled about my hips. Mum pulled them up to my waist. “That's where they sit.” she said. I blinked and hated what I saw. From the front they look bad enough, having ruffled lace around the legs and more around the waist, plus a little satin bow where my belly button should be. The back of my knickers have approximately ten rows of lace covering my bum and I can only imagine what I must look like.

With my bra jiggling on its little plastic hanger, dangling from her fingers, Mum sat me on my bed. “You know when I was your age...” she began. “...well, a couple of years younger, it was my big sister, your auntie Sandra who showed me how to fasten my first training bra.” she told me. “I think Janet would be over the moon if you asked her how to fasten yours.”

“No mum.” I whined. “I don't want her to even see it.” I said, let alone show me how to wear it, I thought. Mum told me it would be really nice if my sister did the honours, but that really was the last thing I wanted. “She'll only tease me.” I moaned. “Can't you show me to put it on? Pleeaassse.”

“OK.” Mum sighed. “Since you asked so nicely.” she added. I couldn't believe that I'd actually just asked to be shown how to put a bra on but... I did. “There... that wasn't so hard was it?” she said. She'll never know, I thought. “Turn around so I can adjust your straps.”

I turned my back to my mother and hung my head. My white satin panties with pale blue trim, ruffled lace and a satin bow perfectly matched the bra. It has a pale blue satin bow between its flat cups, which are also trimmed with lace. Mum asked me stand so she could have a look at me. Timidly I did and after what felt like a very long few seconds whilst my mother smiled at my new underwear, I asked if I could put my dress on. “Course you can.” my mother smiled.

When I donned my dress on Christmas Day I couldn't stop giggling. It seemed like such a silly mistake to make and I imagined Aunt Alice having a proper 'doh' moment when she saw the photograph of Janet and I posing by the tree wearing our Christmas dresses. I kept it on for a couple of hours and whilst being horrid to look at, it was an easy and comfy garment to wear and the tights felt nice and cosy too. Today is a completely different experience. I felt like I was being fastened into a strait-jacket. “What time is Aunt Alice coming?” I meekly asked as one by one, my mother fastened some twenty small buttons that run from the small of my back to the back of my neck.

“I'm not sure.” Mum replied. “She hinted it might be early.” she added. “There.” she said, fastening the final button.

“Thanks.” I meekly murmured. Mum asked where my new socks are. “I don't know.” I said.

Mum glanced around, knowing she'd fetched them in. “Ah... here they are.” she said, spotting them on the floor atop the same flat black ballet slippers I'd worn on Christmas Day. She opened the box and pulled them out. “I'd better put these on.” she said. “They're ever so delicate.” she added.

“I'd have rather worn tights again.” I said, recalling how cosy they felt.

“You could have done if your knickers weren't so frilly.” my mother told me. When you're a thirteen year old boy, there's certain words that should never be preceded by 'your'. Words such as dress, knickers, and bra. Worse still is saying 'my' before such words. I sit on my bed and point my toes so Mum can put my socks on. She seems to take great care making sure the pattern is aligned dead centre on my instep, ankle and shin. They'd have been bad enough without the lacy love-heart knit, but the band of frilly fabric and lace around their tops makes them doubly undesirable. What girls see in this stuff I'll never know. Unlike the relatively sedate pair of tights I'd worn on Christmas day, these socks feel neither warm nor cosy. A hoard of butterflies erupted in my tummy as I pushed my toes into the shoes. The first time I dressed as a girl it was just something silly to do... but this time I dressed completely as a girl, both inside and out and rather than feeling silly, it's scary.

A broad grin sweeps my sister's face when she saw me. “You know I am.” I whined when she asked if I’m wearing 'my' knickers. They're nothing like the underwear I accustomed to; being silky and snug with a high waist. I'm not sure if I can actually feel all the frills running across my bum or if I'm just imagining I can. I can certainly feel my training bra though. I fits snugly around my chest and every time I twist or raise an arm, I can feel its shoulder straps stretch and twist with me. I can't imagine having to wear one everyday like my sister and mother does.

I gulp and take in Janet's horrendous frock, AKA the pinkfrilled platifrock. At least my dress isn't that dress. I don't know what's worse; its huge white collar or its dropped skirt and button detail. Whoever designed either of those features should have been banned from ever working in the fashion industry again... and whoever put them together on one outfit should have been shot. “Do you know when Aunt Alice is coming?” Janet asked me.

“No... Mum wasn't sure either.” I said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she turned up after tea and we end up wearing these all day long.” I glumly supposed. It's just gone 8.15am and there's an awful lot of the day to go. Mum's in the kitchen making breakfast. The scent of grilled bacon wafts up the stairs and I had a brainwave that might make the day more bearable... at least until Aunt Alice arrives.

“Why are you wearing those?” our mother said as we entered the kitchen wearing our bathrobes.

“To keep our dresses clean.” I said. “Janet said the last thing I want on satin is a grease stain.”

“And I don't want to get crumbs on mine.” Janet added before suggesting we wear them until Aunt Alice arrives.

“Hmm, yes. That might be wise.” Mum said.

It didn't feel so bad being able to keep my bathrobe on, although it did nothing to hide my shoes and socks. We waited all morning and most of the afternoon for Aunt Alice to finally arrive. Mum ordered us out of our bathrobes when she saw Alice's car pull up outside. She fussed with us as Alice walked up the path and in through the open front door. “Oh my haven't you both grown!” she said as we stood blushing in our horrific dresses. “Janet you're so pretty, and Alex, you're such a handsome young man!” Aunt Alice said.

“Erm... I thought you thought I was a girl.” I stammered.

“Why on earth would you think that?” Alice asked.

“Because you gave me a dress for Christmas.” Alex replied.

“I did. And very nice it looks too.” she said. I gulped. She smiled. “You don't have to thank me, but thank you for wearing it for me.”

“Erm... thanks.” I sheepishly said. “Can I take it of now?”

“Absolutely not I've only just arrived.” she rapidly replied before telling Janet that she also looked very nice in her new dress.

“Thank you Aunt Alice.” my sister replied. My mother invited Alice to the lounge and sheepishly, Janet and I followed. Mum and Alice made small talk about the journey, then listed who they'd seen and heard from over Christmas. Mum mentioned that we'd visited our relatives in Helmfordshire, adding that Jonathan's school trip to Lichtenstein sounded exciting, especially at this time of year. “Ah yes.” Aunt Alice said. “Hopefully boarding school will do the boy some good.”

Aunt Alice turned to my sister and I and asked if we enjoyed school. “Not really.” I moaned.

“It's OK.” my sister said.

“Oh well that's good.” Alice said. “And are you looking forward to becoming a petticoatee Alex?”

“Erm... I don't really know what one is.” I gulped.

Aunt Alice looked me up and down; from the satin frills about my shoulders, to my pale naked knees and frilly lace knee socks. I smoothed my satin skirt over my lap and gulped as her eyes penetrated me. I couldn’t help but wonder if she knew what I was wearing beneath the dress she'd gifted me. The silence felt heavy. My mother and her aunt just looked at me for a moment. “Normally...” Aunt Alice began. “...it would have happened on your birthday... but I've been so busy this year we've had to leave it until now.” she said. “However new year is probably a better time to begin... start the year afresh and all that.” she paused. I had so many questions in my mind but couldn't think of a single one... or at least, I couldn't think which to ask first.

“Is he going to have to dress like a girl all the time?” my sister asked.

“We don't really see it as dressing like a girl Janet.” Aunt Alice replied. “Alex's dress is in fact a boy's dress.” she added, before telling me that I will be dressing 'nicely' all of the time.

“Does that mean I'll be wearing a dress all the time?” I asked.

“It does Alex.” Aunt Alice replied. I hung my head and gulped before meekly asking why. Aunt Alice lectured me on the problems that adolescent boys face. We have boundless amounts of energy which is often wasted on reckless and risky acts, boisterous behaviour, arrogance and aggression, all interspersed with long bouts of apathy. “Boys can be easily led and have a tendency to allow themselves to be led astray.” she told me. “Peer group pressure is just that. Pressure.” she repeated. “Boys pressure one another into doing things they wouldn't normally do...” she claimed, listing bullying, fighting, shoplifting, vandalism, trespassing, playing stupid games such as chicken, smoking cigarettes, sniffing glue, etc.

“I can't imagine Alex getting involved in any of those things.” my sister said.

“Neither can I.” Aunt Alice agreed. “Especially now.” she added, looking at my dress more then me.

My sister turned her eyes on me and looked me up and down. “Oh I see... there's no way he'd be led astray if he's wearing dresses all the time.” she realised.

“I couldn't have put it better myself Janet.” Aunt Alice said. “Now Alex... it's not going to be easy to begin with. There's a lot of changes for you to get used to and you've already got yourself over the first hurdle.” she told me. I guess that must have been actually wearing my dress. Aunt Alice told that there's many more hurdles to come, that I've got lots to learn and if I engage myself, I will have some fun. “You'll have a nanny too. Won't that be nice?” she added.

“A nanny?!” my sister and I blurted in unison.

“Yes.” Aunt Alice said. “And you'll be educated at home too, which means you won't have to mingle with all those ruffians at school any more.” she informed me. “And you won't be wasting your time playing those silly computer games either. You'll learn some practical pastimes such as needlepoint and crochet and embroidery.” she said. “Which reminds me Alex...” The shameful moment came when she enquired about my underwear. “Oh I am glad. That's two hurdles then.” she smiled.

“Why are you making me do all this Auntie?” I glumly asked.

“All the boys in this family are petticoated when they turn thirteen.” she replied. “Had it not been for cousin Anthony's birthday being so close to yours, you'd have been petticoated on your birthday.” she informed me. “It's been quite a busy year... what with Anthony, Steven, Paul, Jonathan, Oliver and Simon all turning thirteen this year.”

“They've all been petticoated?” Janet asked. “Like Alex is going to be?”

Aunt Alice nodded.

“How long for?” Janet asked.

“Well that depends... it's just an adolescence thing, to help our boys through that confusing time of life.”

“It's going to be even more confusing if I have to dress like a girl all the time.” I figured.

“On the contrary Alex, it will help you focus and give you a routine. It's a proven fact that petticoated boys are better behaved than non-petticoated boys. They also perform better in school because...”

“You said I wouldn't be going to school.” I interrupted.

“I'm talking about petticoated boys in general.” Aunt Alice told me. “Some of them do go to school and some, like Jonathan, go to boarding school.” she explained. “You'll have a nanny who'll home school you, and believe me Alex, you'll get a much better education than that city school you used to go to.”

“I can't believe you're going to have a nanny!” Janet gushed.

“She'll be your nanny too.” I said. Presuming a nanny would be in charge of 'the' children.

“Actually Alex, she'll just be your nanny...” mother said. “Think of her more as a tutor. She'll mostly just be helping you with your coursework whilst Janet's at school.”

“Like a Victorian governess?” Janet suggested.

“Exactly.” Aunt Alice said. “I feel 'governess' is a bit of a mouthful where as 'nanny' is a little more informal.”

I can't imagine what having a governess/nanny might be like. I can't really imagine what being home-schooled might be like either, apart from being boring. Aunt Alice is telling my mother what it will be like, but I’m only half listening; reading, writing, arithmetic being the three most important subjects and history being second most, next comes practical crafts rather than art and getting a basic grasp of domestic science is much more important than useless subjects such as geography.

Aunt Alice prattles on and my mother responds with ums and ahs. Meanwhile I'm trying to get my head around the fact that I’m not just dressed entirely as a girl today, but will be again tomorrow, and the day after that. It was only supposed to be for an hour or so. Aunt Alice was supposed to go 'Oh silly me! It's been so many years I got muddled and thought Alex was a girl's name!'... but part of me knew that wasn't going to be the case when Mum made me spend my gift vouchers on my girlie underwear... and I just went along with it. In retrospect I should have just said no in the lingerie store and apart from the fact I was gob-smacked and/or dumbstruck, I really don't know why I didn't. Mum would have bought them anyway, I figured.

What I should have done was not worn the dress on Christmas day... maybe it was a test? Maybe if I didn't wear it then I wouldn't be wearing it now. But then again, if all the boys in our family really do get petticoated when they turn thirteen... I probably would. If I had been petticoated on my birthday I'd have been petticoated for some six months by now... or would I? I pondered. How long does adolescence last? I wondered. I've never really thought about it before. Is it a couple of months or a couple of years? I really don't know.

A while later, my sister and I had some time alone. “This is going to be horrible.” I whined. “I feel like crying.” I said as my chin began to quiver.

“It won't be that bad Alex.” she empathised. “I wear girl's clothes all the time too.” she said in a tone that suggested an attempt to cheer me up.

“But you're not going to have a nanny or be taken out of school.”

“Under the circumstances, it's probably best that you have been taken out of school.” she replied. “You'd have to wear the girl's uniform.” she said. “Imagine that!”

“I'm trying not to think about any of it.” I sullenly said. “But you're right... it's just gonna be weird.” I mused. “It's still not fair though.”

“I know.” Janet agreed. “...but if Paul and Jonathan and Oliver, and the others she mentioned have all been petticoated this year, you're certainly not the only one.”

“That doesn't make me feel any better.” I frowned. Janet frowned too. “Maybe it does.” I thought. “It would be worse if it was just me I guess.” I said. “But it's still pretty bad.” I gulped.

“Well like I said... they're only clothes. You'll get used to them.” she told me. Her hand found my satin sleeve and ran up and down it reassuringly. “You did say it felt quite nice on Christmas Day.”

“Yeah but... I didn't think I'd have to wear it again.” I replied. “We only wore them for a laugh.” I reminded her. “If I'd known it was actually for me I wouldn't have gone anywhere near it... I'd have thrown it on the fire!”

“Then you'd be in trouble.” Janet said.

“Yeah probably... I'd prob'ly be wearing that.” I dryly sniggered and snorted at her pink monstrosity.

Janet sniggered too. “Do you actually think she thought it was nice?”

“Yours.” I asked. “I can't see it.” I said. “She probably chose that so I wouldn't think this was so bad.”

Janet tittered and said I was probably right. “Yours isn't so bad though. As far as dresses go it's pretty standard... and at least it's not pink or something really girlie.”

“It already is something really girlie.” I claimed. “But yeah I guess you're right.” I sighed. “What do you reckon this nanny's going to be like?” I gulped.

“Dunno... they're often depicted as really strict and stern women.” Janet replied. “I don't imagine she'll be anything like Mary Poppins.” she added. I gulped again. “I guess we'll find out tomorrow.”

“I wonder if I’ll have to wear this again tomorrow?” I moaned as I pinched my skirt, lifted it and let it drop onto my lap.

“Well Aunt Alice did say that you won't be wearing boy's clothes for a while... traditional ones anyway.” Janet replied. “I'm still not sure if I can believe that that came from a boys' dress shop!”

“Me neither.” I frowned. “But Mum told me that a girl's dress would have fewer buttons on the back.” I said. “...and that I'd be able to undo them myself if it was a girl's dress.”

“You do have an awful lot of buttons.” my sister agreed.

Later that evening, when Mum was unbuttoning my dress for me, I asked if I'd have to wear it again tomorrow, and added that I won't have any clean underwear, since I only have one set. “They'll be washed and dried ready for tomorrow.” my mother told me. I glumly asked if I had to wear my dress again. “Don't you want to?”

“You know I don't.” I grumbled. “But you said I wasn't allowed to wear boys clothes any more.” I sulked.

“You're wearing boy's clothes now.”

“You know what I mean.”

Once released from my frock, I unfastened my bra and stepped out of my knickers and pulled on a pair of my pyjamas... then, much to my dismay, I was shown how to hand-wash my underwear and socks. “They're very delicate so you have to be gentle.” Mum said. It only took a few minutes but I'd rather wear a pair of frilly knickers all day long than spend a moment handling them. I wrung them out and put them to one side before hand-washing my training bra and lacy knee socks too. Both hung on my bedroom radiator and would be dry by morning.

Over breakfast the following morning, Aunt Alice asked Janet if she had an old dress I could wear today. “I've got loads.” Janet replied.

“Now don't give him anything nice. Choose something you mind getting dirty.” Alice advised.

“OK... does it have to be a dress or can it be a skirt and top?”

“I'll leave that up to you dear.” Alice replied. “And in case you're wondering Alex, we'll be sorting your bedroom out today.” she told me.

“My bedroom?” I gulped.

“Yes.” she said. “We'll start by packing up your old clothes once you're dressed.”

Janet chose me an old skirt; navy blue, knee length with box pleats and four big brass buttons on the front, one of which was hanging on by a thread. She dug out an old beige ribbed jumper and a pair of her old school knee socks that had gotten snagged, putting a couple of holes in the pelerine knit. Once dressed, I took my sorry ass down to the lounge where my mother and aunt waited. “You look like you belong on a council estate.” my mother sniggered when she saw my shabby outfit.

“He looks like he's ready to give his room a good clear out.” Aunt Alice said, before marching me back up the stairs.

“Did my cousins have to do this too?” I mournfully asked as I glumly removed all my clothes from my drawers and wardrobe. Aunt Alice told me that those who were being petticoated at home did, but others such as Jonathan who were sent to boarding school didn't. “How come some of us stay at home and some go to boarding school?” I asked.

“Because some boys refuse to be petticoated.” she told me. “...and those boys go to boarding school where the rules are much stricter. You wouldn't like it.” she said.

“I don't think I'll like it either way.” I moaned.

“Oh we'll see.” she said. “I expect you're like most boys... the idea of wearing a dress is far worse than the reality and once you've got one on you soon realise that they're not so bad after all.” she claimed. I claimed it was horrible. “I can't be that bad... you wore your dress on Christmas day and again yesterday.” she reminded me. “And today you've borrowed something off your sister.” she added. “If it was truly horrible you'd have refused to wear your dress in the first place.” she said.

In my defence I told her again that I thought it was a mistake and only wore my dress for fun on Christmas day. She pointed out the contradiction in my claims and asked how it can be horrible if I wore it for fun. “I don't know.” I replied. “It was different yesterday when Mum said I had to wear it.”

“Yet you still wore it.” Aunt Alice said. “And if you hadn't you'd have been busy preparing to go to boarding school instead of getting your room ready for your nanny to arrive.” she added. “...and believe me... you're much better off with a nanny than you would be at boarding school.”

“She's coming today?!” I gasped.

“When did you think she'd be coming?”

“I don't know... I figured you'd have to find one first.”

“Well I did find one and she'll be arriving today.”

“When?” I asked. It's not even noon.

“I'm not sure Alex, but I expect it won't be too late in the day.” Aunt Alice said.

I got the distinct feeling that boarding school wasn't a good alternative, although being petticoated at home with a nanny didn't sound good either. I decide to toe the line for the time being and if the nanny really is horrible, I imagine I'll run away from home. I know it's midwinter and I probably wouldn't last two minutes, but day dreaming won't do me any harm. I consider somehow stashing a pair of jeans and a jumper as I empty my wardrobe, but it wouldn't be easy under Aunt Alice's watchful eye. Everything needed to be folded properly and placed in a brown cardboard box. Being a boy and therefore not very adept at folding clothes, it took me a good hour to empty my drawers and wardrobe. Next, all my old toys and games and gadgets were carefully packed away and the boxes stacked in the small spare bedroom. Then Aunt Alice went through all my books, magazines and comics and all but a handful of my books went into a box. Meanwhile, I had to take all my pictures and posters down from the walls.

With my drawers and shelves virtually empty, I was given a duster and some furniture polish and had to dust polish everything from the top of the wardrobe down to the wooden bed-frame. One of the chests of drawers was moved into the spare bedroom along with one of my bedside cabinets which freed up some wall and floor space, then, under Aunt Alice's instruction, Janet helped me to rearrange the furniture. My bed went behind the door with a small cabinet next to it. My wardrobe went next to the window and my bookshelf went on the other side. Beside this my desk was put and next to that the remaining chest of drawers. This freed up a big area by the window and left one wall free. Finally, I vacuumed the carpet and was left alone in my empty bedroom for a while.

Normally rearranging my bedroom layout is a refreshing change, but not this time. Normally I’d be arranging and rearranging all my stuff but this time I don't have any stuff... well, not apart from the dress hanging in my wardrobe and a small collection of books on my shelf. The scent of furniture polish filled the air. A sense of dread filled my skull. I smoothed the box pleated skirt over my lap and whilst I didn't like it, I did accept that it was a lot better than wearing my dress. The fabric is thicker and feels significantly warmer than my light satin frock. Same goes for the jumper and socks. They may be a bit tatty but they are quite cosy. I recall Mum's council estate comment and imagine that I'm from a family so poor, all I have is my sister's hand-me-downs. Given the choice, I think I'd prefer that to this. There's no shortage of money in our family and I imagine that it won't be long before my drawers and wardrobe are full of lots of nice new clothes fit for a petticoated boy.

Mum returned with a bundle of bedding and told me to change my bed. Being an average thirteen year old boy, my mother usually changes my bedding for me whilst I'm at school, so you can imagine how I blundered my way through fitting a sheet and replacing the duvet cover. Mum and Aunt Alice were in and out, checking on me frequently and making sure I was doing it properly. Pulling on the pillow cases was easy compared to putting on the duvet cover. I had to crawl inside it to push the corners in and as I reversed out, my skirt got dragged onto my back just as my sister was entering my room. She shrieked with laughter at the sight of my frilly white knickers with row after row of baby blue lace covering my bum. I was crimson when my face emerged. “I'm sorry Alex.” Janet said. “That really wasn't what I expected to see!” she claimed. “Mum asked if you wanted this.” she said, holding her old dressing table mirror.

“Not really.” I grumbled.

“Hmm... I think when Mum asked me to ask you if you wanted it, what she really meant was 'give this to Alex'.” Janet informed me.

“What do I want that for?” I moaned.

“Well I got a new one for Christmas.” she said as she placed it on my desk. “Maybe you need this so you can do your make-up.”

“Oh I don't do I?” I whined. “It's bad enough just having to wear girl's clothes.”

“I honestly don't know Alex... Mum just told me to give it to you.” my sister informed me.

“Hmmm.” I said. “Thanks I guess.”

When Mum and Aunt Alice next checked in on me, I mournfully asked why I needed the vanity mirror. The reply was blunt and patronising. “I won't have to wear make-up will I?” I murmured.

“You're a bit young for make-up Alex.” my mother replied.

“But Janet wears it and she's only a year older.”

“Janet's also a girl Alex.” Aunt Alice stated. “If you want to wear make-up you'll just have to wait until you're older.”

“I don't want to wear make-up... I just thought... coz of the mirror.” I mumbled. Aunt Alice pulled me up on my lacklustre use of the English language. “Sorry.” I gulped.

“It's important that you look nice and without a mirror, how would you know?” she asked me. “You mightn't notice that loose button on your skirt unless you look in the mirror.” she said. “And when you're wearing your dress you need to make sure the frills are straight and that its skirt hasn't got tucked into your knickers.” she told me. I guess she has a point. “Now...” she said. “...why don't you read one of your books until Nanny arrives.”

I looked at my empty bookshelf and my few remaining books. Apart from the Complete Illustrated Stories of Hans Christian Andersen book that I’ve had since I was about seven years old, they're all educational reference books such as a dictionary and various atlases. It's going to be a long afternoon with that little lot, I mused as I selected something to flick through. Mum checked on me a short while later. “Alice said that your door needs to be wide open when you're in your room alone.” she told me.

“Why are you letting her do this to me Mum?” I asked.

“Because it's for the best.” Mum replied. “And it's not just you...” she added, listing the names of my cousin's who'd also been petticoated. “Think yourself lucky that you're getting a nanny rather than being packed off to boarding school like your cousins Jonathan, Simon and Paul.”

“Do they have to dress as girls at boarding school?”

“They dress like petticoated boys.” Mum told me. “And it's a very strict school.”

I imagine boarding school might be better than having a nanny who I imagine to also be very strict. How many thirteen year old boys have a nanny? I wonder. I would later learn that each of my cousins aged thirteen or more who don't attend boarding school all have a nanny... but it's only the boys which seems wholly unfair to me. But thinking about it, one can hardly petticoat a girl... and having thought a little more, girls are petticoated. I climb off my bed and choose another book to leaf through, instinctively I go to close my door but recalling my mother's instruction, I leave it open.

I glance in the mirror on my desk as I select a book. I gulp as I notice that the outline of my training bra is apparent due to my clingy ribbed jumper. It's more obvious from the back than the front, thankfully... but I feel somewhat disheartened that anyone could see that I'm wearing a bra beneath my top even if they can't actually see it. I sit back on my bed and apathetically flick through the Readers' Digest Atlas of Geographical Wonders. It's packed full of striking photographs of some amazing places, from the torn landscapes of Iceland to the glaciers of Antarctica and seemingly everywhere in between.

“Whatcha doin'?” Janet asked as she appeared in the doorway.

“Nowt.” I glumly replied. “Just waiting for that nanny to turn up.”

“I'm a bit surprised that she's coming so soon.” Janet said as she perched on the edge of my bed. “I thought it'd be in a few days when we're supposed to go back to school.” she said.

“So did I.” I mournfully replied. “I can't quite believe that I'm not be going back to school.” I added.

“Yeah... dunno what I’m gonna say when people start asking me where Alex is.” Janet said.

I sighed possibly the world's longest sigh as I considered that. I suggested she tell them I’m being home-schooled but says nothing about me being a petticoatee... “In fact, just tell 'em I've been sent to boarding school.”

“I can skirt round the truth but I can't lie.” Janet replied. “And what about when your friends call round?”

“Oh I dunno...” I furrowed my brow. “They probably won't want to be my friends if they see me dressed like this.” I presumed.

“They won't be proper friends then.”

“They'll think I'm a faggot.” I gulped. Janet didn't reply. After a short silence I told my sister that I'd asked about the vanity mirror. “...and Mum said I'm too young for make-up.”

“But your thirteen.” Janet stated. “I was allowed it when I was twelve.” she said.

“I'm glad I’m not.” I groaned.

“That's weird... loads of guys wear make up these days.” she said, citing a number of current pop acts as examples.

“Well like I say... I'm glad I’m not one of them.”

“I like wearing make-up.” my sister told me. “It's fun trying out different looks.” she claimed. “...and if you were allowed I could make you look like a girl rather than a boy in girl's clothing.”

“I think the whole point is that I am a boy in girl's clothing.” I sighed. “...like they're embarrassing me into behaving myself.”

“Yeah.” my sister agreed. “...and it's not like you're some tearaway. You hardly ever get in trouble.”

“I know.” I frowned. “It's supposed to stop me from being a bully but I don't bully anyone anyway.” I said. “Same goes for shoplifting and vandalism... I wouldn't dare anyway for fear of getting caught.”

“Still... at least it's not just you.” Janet said, reminding me that all the boys in our family are petticoated when they turn thirteen years of age. “I wonder if it happens in any other families?” she mused.

“I had no idea it happened in ours until yesterday.”

“Me neither.”

“What are you two yacking about.” Aunt Alice asked when she popped her head in the door.

“We were just wondering if petticoating happens in other families or just ours.” Janet replied.

“Oh yes.” Aunt Alice claimed. “It's one of those things that goes on a lot but is seldom talked about.” she told us. “They wouldn't make frocks and undergarments especially for petticoated boys if there weren't any to sell them to.” she added as she turned to me. “And it won't be so bad once you've got used to it.” she calmly claimed.

“Hmm.” I replied. I'd like to believe that I'll never get used to dressing like this but after wearing my blue dress all day yesterday and this tatty outfit today, I hesitantly consider the fact that I will get used to it.

“He'll have more than just one dress though?” Janet quizzed.

“Oh yes.” Aunt Alice replied, but said little more on the subject. “Now make sure you straighten your bedding before Nanny arrives. She'll want to see your room tidy and orderly.” she instructed before leaving.

I waited a moment before saying, “She's going to be really strict isn't she.”

Janet nodded. “I doubt she'll be a nice one like Wendy Craig.”

“...or Mary Poppins.”

My sister smiled and stood. “Well I'd better leave you to it.” she said as she smoothed the patch of duvet that she'd sat on.

I murmured as she left and put my book away. I straightened the bedding and sauntered downstairs. Sheepishly, I asked if I had to stay in my room or could I watch TV for a while. “Of course you can.” my mother replied. “Providing you're happy to watch what we're watching.” she added.

I timidly perched on a chair and straightened my knee socks before sitting back. Lord knows what they're watching; one of those confusing university programmes on BBC2 by the looks of it. I glare at the screen but my mind wonders. After a few minutes my mother turns to her aunt, “Don't you think he should be wearing his nice dress when Nanny arrives?”

“No he's fine as he is.” Aunt Alice replied. “His Sunday dress is just that... a Sunday dress.” she stated. I guess that means I'll be wearing it again on Sunday... and probably every Sunday after that.

It was almost dusk when an old Commer van pulled up outside. “This is probably her.” Alice announced as its noisy engine chugged to a standstill. My tummy began to rumble and almost erupted when my mother went to open the door. I stayed where I was and focused on the voices in the hallway. Stuff was being fetched in and under normal circumstances I'd have gone to see what but I'm not going to move until I have to. “He's just in here.” my mother said a moment before leading the nanny in.

I jumped to my feet. “You must be Alex.” a relatively young, friendly looking woman said.

I gulped. “Erm... yes.” I said. She held out her hand and I shook it. Her grip was gentle and friendly. In fact she was nothing like I’d imagined. She wore jeans and a checked shirt. Her hair is wavy and tousled. Her smile is welcoming, her eyes are warm. She looks me up and down and tells me that I'm already getting myself accustomed to my new routine. “Erm... yes.” I gulped.

“You'll have to forgive his clothes...” my mother said, explaining why I'm wearing an old ribbed jumper, a tatty skirt and snagged pelerine knee socks. “His room's absolutely spotless even if he isn't.” my mother concluded.

“Shall we go and have a look?” the nanny said.

I sheepishly followed but my eyes were drawn by all the stuff in our sizeable hallway. There's a big velvet arm chair, two large suitcases, a trunk, and a big box beneath a round hat box. I say nothing as I climb the stairs. The nanny stepped aside at the top and asked which room it was. “Err... this one...” I meekly replied, pointing toward my open door. She stepped toward it and I followed. My sister was peering through her barely open bedroom door.

“Well this is nice.” the nanny said as she looked around, sliding open a drawer and opening a wardrobe door. “Is this your Sunday dress?” she asked, seeing the only item hanging on the rail. I gulped and nodded. She told me it was lovely. I could feel myself blushing. “And you must be Janet.” she said, noticing my sister lurking on the landing.

“Hello.” my sister said as she entered my room. They briefly introduced themselves before the nanny asked if we could have some time alone to get to know one another. “Of course.” my sister said, before asking the nanny her name.

“It's Stephanie... or Steph to my friends.” the nanny replied. My sister asked if she could call her Steph and the nanny said she could. “You'll have to address me as Nanny though Alex.” she told me in a serious tone. “But that doesn't mean we can't be friends.” she added in a more affable manner.

My sister left and Nanny closed the door. “Please... sit down... I don't bite.” she smiled. She sat on my bed and I sat on my chair with my back to my desk. I felt like a naughty school boy and sat to attention with my knees and ankles together. She asked me to tell her about myself, what my hobbies are, what kind of music I like, which football team I follow and sports I enjoy. She asked me about school and my friends, enquired which classes I enjoy and which I don't, before telling me about herself. She likes to read and used to enjoy sport but doesn't get much chance to partake now she's a full time nanny. I asked which sports she enjoyed. “Martial arts mostly. Ju Jitsu, Judo and Taekwondo.” she told me, before adding hockey and tennis to the list. I knew I was pushing my luck when I asked if she'd teach me martial arts but I felt quite comfortable in her company once we'd got to know each other. “Absolutely not young man.” she replied in a friendly tone.

She cast her eyes around my room and commented on its cleanliness. “Did you do it all yourself?” she asked. I felt quite proud as I nodded. “Well done you.” she said. “Shall we bring my things up?”

“Are you staying in the spare room?”

“No I'm staying in here, with you.” she said. Despite my feeling that was the case, my jaw still dropped. “Don't worry... I've brought a bed.” she said.

To be honest, in that moment, I wasn't thinking about where she'd sleep. I was thinking about me, a thirteen year old boy sharing a room with an attractive and affable woman in her mid to late twenties and the prospect of seeing her undress. I followed her to the hallway and she handed me a suitcase. I bundled it up the stairs and she, somewhat amazingly, followed with the big arm chair. “Isn't that heavy?” I asked as she carried it directly to my room and placed it by the window.

“Too heavy for a boy like you.” she replied as she shunted it this way and that into a position she was happy with. She's only a few inches taller than me and isn't exactly stocky, I thought.

I brought up the other suitcase and her hat box. She carried the big box beneath it which she told me was a folding bed that came all the way from China. She wasn't kidding either because this image was stuck to the side of its box. 

We bundled the trunk up between us. “What's in here?” I asked since it was quite heavy.

“All sorts of things.” she said, listing the books I'll need for study time and the books she'll read in her own time, plus the bedding, her alarm clock, hair dryer, curling tongues, a few ornaments to make the place feel like home.

We put the trunk by the wall, next to the intriguing folding bed. Nanny put one of the cases on the trunk and began to unpack it; jeans, jumpers, skirts and dresses, all far too big for me. She unpacked other items into one of my drawers, socks and tights into another. I pondered that it might be me staying in her room rather than she in mine, since there's ten of her hangers in my wardrobe versus my one. “This is my uniform.” she said, hanging a bland looking dress on the front of the wardrobe. I gorped at it. “Not very nice is it.” she said. “But sometimes we don't get to choose what we wear.”

She put that case aside and put her other one on the trunk. She removed a bundle of frocks and put them on hangers. “This is what we call a 'day' dress.” she said showing me a drab dark red frock with a white collar and short cuffed sleeves. Another similar frock is removed, only this one is dark green colour The next is a vibrant blue frock with playful print of kites and clouds which she calls my 'play' dress, which is followed by another play-dress in a bright mustard-yellow printed with silhouettes of galloping horses. Then she shows me a navy blue pinafore dress with a zip front which I'll be wearing during study time.

“That's like what little girls wear at junior school.” I whined as I realised how infantile the outfits look. “Why can't I just wear my own clothes?”

“Because like I said, we don't always get to choose what we wear.”

“I did until yesterday.” I grumbled as she unfolded an almost identical garment in charcoal grey

“And I bet you hardly ever wore anything really nice.” she said as she hung the school pinafores in my wardrobe. “I know it seems strange at first but I've noticed how you keep glancing down to see how your skirt swishes.” she told me.

“Only because I'm not used to wearing one.” I replied.

“And when you are you won't give it a second thought.” she retorted. “You won't believe me but this is the fun bit... when everything feels different and new.”

She's certainly right about everything feeling different and new, but it's a long way from being fun. I cast my mind back to Christmas Day when we assumed that Aunt Alice has simply got muddled up and thought I was a girl. That was funny. We couldn't stop giggling as Janet buttoned me into my dress. I recall her saying that she'd never seen a dress with so many fiddly little buttons on the back. We laughed when we stood in front of the tree whilst Mum tried to operate the camera. Wearing a frock felt really weird but kind of nice too... but I was ignorant then.

Aunt Alice tapped on my bedroom door end entered. “Is he behaving himself?” she asked.

“Oh yes.” Nanny smiled. “I think we're going to get along just fine.”

Alice stepped to the wardrobe. On one side hangs Nanny's clothes and on the other, mine. I gulped as she removed one of the so-called 'play' dresses. “You'll certainly brighten the place up when you're wearing this.” Alice said. I gulped. The idea of wearing such vibrant playful garment sent shivers down my spine. Alice turned to Nanny and told her that supper will be served in ten minutes, before telling me to go and wash my hands beforehand.

I felt almost invisble as we ate supper. My mother and sister wanted to know all about Nanny and barely paid me any attention at all. My mother and aunt addressed her as Stephanie, my sister called her Steph as often as possible, but I have to call her Nanny. She studied English and History at university, then did a teacher training course. After a year teaching in an inner city high school, she took a post in a reform school teaching the worst of the worst.

“What's a reform school?” I timidly asked.

“A borstal.” my sister informed me.

Nanny continued telling her story and after a couple of years in the reform school, she decided that the boys in the juvenile detention centres were 'beyond hope'. She wanted to help people before they off the rails rather than after, which she referred to as 'shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted'. “So I trained as a nanny.” Nanny said, smiling at me.

“Have you nannied lots of boys?” my sister asked.

“Alex will be my third full time protégé, but during my training we inducted lots of boys.”

“Who were the others?”

“Well I can't say I'm afraid. I’m bound by a confidentiality clause, but I can say that one is now doing very well at finishing school and the other had to go to boarding school.”

“Will I have to go to boarding school?” I meekly asked.

“Alex.” Aunt Alice said. “You're supposed to address the person you're asking a question to.”

“Erm...” I replied.

“What Alice means is, when asking a question, you should state the name of the person you're speaking to.” Nanny said, citing will I have to go to boarding school, Nanny? as an example.

“Oh.. err... Will I have to go to boarding school, Nanny?”

Nanny smiled. “I shouldn't think so... but that depends on you. Providing you're a good boy and do as you're told, you can stay at home... otherwise.”

Her reply felt like threat. I gulped. “Will he have to go to finishing school?” my sister asked.

“Of course.” nanny replied. “All petticoated boys do... it helps them make the transition from childhood to adulthood.”

“Is it like a girl's finishing school, with etiquette and deportment and elocution classes.”

“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Nanny replied. “Alex hasn't been petticoated yet.”

“Haven't I?” I quizzed, having worn girls clothes for almost two whole days.

Janet posed much the same point and Nanny told us that I'll be petticoated from tomorrow. “However since tomorrow begins at midnight... it really begins at bath time tonight.”

“I had a bath yesterday.” I stated.

“I hope you did.” Nanny said. “Petticoated boys bathe everyday.”

“Everyday?!”

“Twice a day.” Nanny told me. “First before breakfast and then before bed.” she said.

“But... no one has two baths a day!”

“Petticoated boys do.” Aunt Alice stated.

“Can I stay up 'til midnight tonight?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But it's new years eve!” my sister exclaimed. “We've got to see the new year in.” she claimed.

“I've no problem with Alex staying up tonight.” Nanny said to Aunt Alice. “Providing you're ready for bed after your bath.” she said to me.

“Well if it's fine with Nanny it's fine with me.” our old aunt replied, reiterating that I’m not officially a petticoatee until tomorrow. “...which means you'll have to be in bed on time every night.” she added.

“What time's that?” I asked in a whiny voice.

“That's for Nanny to decide.” Aunt Alice told me. I looked at Nanny who smiled back, but she didn't say anything. I got the distinct feeling that it might be a little earlier than I’m used to, otherwise it wouldn't have been mentioned.

After supper, Janet and I washed, dried and put the dishes away. “Steph seems really nice doesn't she.” my sister said.

“Yes but... I don't see why I have to have a nanny... and I don't like that she's staying in my room.”

“Well Aunt Alice is using the spare room.” Janet said, presuming once she's gone, Nanny (or Steph) will move into there.

“But she's unpacked all her things in my room... she's even got a folding bed.” I said. “And there's no way her big armchair would fit in the spare room.” I added. “And Aunt Alice said it's so she can keep an eye on me.”

“Well at least she's nice... imagine if she was a really horrible strict nanny.”

“Yeah I guess.” I said. “Still wish I didn't have to have one though.”

“Wish you didn't have what?” Mum asked as she entered the kitchen.

“Nothing.” I replied.

“Nanny's running your bath so I want you up there when you've finished in here.” Mum said.

I glanced at the time. It's 6.20pm. “Already?” I whined.

“Well it is a little early but the sooner you're in the sooner you're out.” Mum replied. “...and if you do want to stay up 'til midnight.” she added.

“OK.” I conceded. I spent no more than five more minutes drying and putting away the pots, pans, plates and dishes that my sister was washing. Some went in a high cupboard, others a low one. My skirt swished about my knees as I crouched and reached, twisted and turned.”What?” I defensively asked as I caught my sister watching me.

“Nothing I’m just... trying to get my head round the fact that you won't be dressing as a boy for a while.” she said. “It's going to be like having a little sister.”

“I'm not going to be a girl.” I grumbled.

“I know but you know what I mean.” Janet replied.

I counted down the pots and pans and dried them slowly until the last one came. “Haven't you finished yet Alex?” Nanny's voice asked.

I turned to see Nanny in the kitchen doorway wearing her uniform. “Steph you look like a proper nanny!” my sister exclaimed. Stephanie's long tousled hair is pinned up off her shoulders. A peculiar little white cap sits atop her head. She wears a steely grey dress beneath a crisp white apron and to me, looks more like a nurse or matron than a nanny.

“I am a proper nanny and this young man needs to be in the bath.” Nanny abruptly stated. “Come on.” she said.

I gulped and glanced at the clock on the wall. It's not even 6.30pm and I'm a thirteen year old going for my 'bedtime' bath. Nanny stood to one side so I could pass. Gone was her friendly smile. In its place a serious expression. I sheepishly scuttled past her, half expecting a clip behind my ear as I did so, but Nanny just followed me up the stairs and directed me straight into the bathroom.

Half an hour later and my bottom lip is stuck out so much that I could trip over it as Nanny returns me to the sitting room. “All ready for bed?” Aunt Alice says as she looks me up and down. I gulp and nod. “Answer me properly Alex.” she instructs.

“Yes Aunt Alice.”

“You don't have to call me Aunt Alice any more Alex.” she said with a smile. “Now you're a petticoatee it's just Auntie.” she said. “Do you still want to stay up and see the new year in?” she asked.

My lip managed to stick out just a little more before I muttered “I’d rather go to bed.”

“But it's only a quarter past seven!” my sister exclaimed. “I don't mind that you're wearing a nightie.” she said.

My white calf length nightdress isn't the issue... it's the nappy concealed beneath it.

“Why don't you stay up until eight?” Nanny suggested. “I'm sure your mummy doesn't want you going to bed so early either.”

I cringed when Nanny referred to my mother as my 'mummy'. My sister Janet said that going to bed at eight o'clock is still too early for a boy my age, and I blushed when Nanny told her that all petticoated boys have an eight o'clock bedtime. “Go and sit with Mummy Alex.” Nanny instructed.

Sheepishly I scooped my white calf length nightdress as set between my mother and sister on the sofa. “You smell nice after your bath.” Mum said.

I gulped and blushed. Nanny prompted me to reply. “Thank you.” I meekly peeped. Nanny raised an eyebrow at me. “Mu... mummy.” I muttered.

I expected my sister to at least snort of snigger at the infantile expression, but she didn't. Maybe she knows? Maybe she's known all along? My mother claims to have known nothing about me becoming a petticoatee until she unwrapped her gift from Aunt Alice on Christmas Day, and even then she didn't know the whys and wherefores until she spoke to Aunt Alice on Boxing Day. Janet was mad keen to loan me some tights and shoes on Christmas Day. She even wanted to put make-up on me but I declined. She could have been instructed by Aunt Alice to encourage me... but thinking about it... it was my idea that we try them on for a laugh. If anything it was me that encouraged my sister to wear her Christmas dress.

On the TV is Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory; the kids classic fantasy with a dark underbelly. Annoyingly, it's turned off ten minutes before the end because Mum and Auntie Alice wanted to watch Family Fortunes. I didn't say anything though. In fact I barely muttered a word before 8pm when I was asked again if I'd like to stay up until midnight. “No.” I meekly muttered.

I would have rather just scuttled up to my room but first I had to give my sister, aunt and mother a hug and wish them each a happy new year, before Nanny took me to my room. “In you get.” she said, pulling the duvet cover aside.

“That's your bed Nanny.” I stated.

“No Alex.” Nanny told me. “It's your bed.”

“But...” I gulped, glancing at my own bed, then back to the folding bed she'd brought with her. It has low rails on all four sides and whilst it isn't a cot, its design certainly evokes one.

“No buts Alex... unlike your old bed, this one's got a waterproof mattress just in case your nappy leaks.” she told me. I hesitated and furrowed my brow. “Remember what I said would happen if you don't do as you're told?” she asked. I gulped and nodded. “And what did I say?” she asked.

“That I’ll have to wear my nappies in the daytime too.” I meekly replied.

“Correct.” she said. “And if you still don't behave yourself you'll be sent to boarding school where knickers are a privilege.” Nanny told me all about the boarding schools that petticoated boys get sent to whilst giving me my bath and if all she said was true, I'd much rather be petticoated at home. “I'm sure you'd rather wear a nice pair of knickers tomorrow wouldn't you?” she asked. I gulped and nodded. “Well in you get then.” she said.

I scooped up my nightdress and got on the bed. It's lower than my own bed, and narrower too. Nanny pulled my nightie down to my shins and put the duvet over me before sitting in her arm chair and opening a book. “Would you like me to read to you?” she asked.

I shook my head and stuck out my lip. “Are you going to sit there all night long?” I asked.

“No.” she chuckled. “I'll go to bed when you're sound asleep.” she told me.

“Ooohh.” I said. “I don't think I'll be able to sleep in this.” I said.

“Your bed or your nappy?”

“My nappy.” I glumly replied. “Especially if I wet myself.”

“You'll be fine.” she said. “When you are wet you won't really feel it because you're wearing nappy rash cream.” she said. “And when you're nappy trained you won't even wake up to wet yourself.” she added. “Now how about I read to you?” she suggested. “It'll help take your mind off things.”

“OK.” I glumly replied. She raised an eyebrow. “Nanny.” I added. Nanny smiled. I gulped and forced a smile in return, before pulling the duvet up to my neck and resting my head on the pillow.

“Once on a dark winter's day...” Nanny began. Her voice was quiet yet clear. “...when the yellow fog hung so thick and heavy in the streets of London...” she read. “...that the lamps were lighted and the shop windows blazed with gas as they do at night.”

Meanwhile in the lounge, Janet and her mother and Great aunt Alice are watching Paper Moon... or trying to... Janet can't help but wonder why her brother has to be petticoated and every thought that enters her head pops off her tongue in an instant. “It's not only your brother Janet.” Aunt Alice reminds her, before listing the names of the cousins who've also been petticoated this year.

“Why is it only boys who are petticoated?” she asked.

“To stop them from getting too big for their boots.” Aunt Alice replied. “The world would be a much better place if all boys were petticoated.” she claimed. “Petticoated boys learn to cooperate rather than confront. They oblige rather than obstruct. Help instead of hinder...” she went on, and on, and on.

“All that just by making them wear dresses?” Janet asked.

Aunt Alice nodded. “But there's a little more to it than that.” she said. “One of the problems with adolescent boys is that they tend to grow up too quickly...”

“Getting too big for their boots?” Janet added.

“Yes.” Aunt Alice replied, before explaining that petticoating addresses this problem by putting them in infantile clothing more suited to a seven or eight year old girl than a young teenager. “Then there's the early bedtime which helps them adjust, and being put back in nappies...”

“Nappies!?” Janet gasped.

“Yes... and you're not to tease him about that.” Aunt Alice stated. Janet's face bore a huge bemused grin as she asked why her thirteen year old brother has to wear nappies. “They're only for bed, providing he behaves himself.” Alice replied. “Bedtime means bedtime and with a nappy on he's no excuses.” she told the boy's sister. “Once he's trained he won't give them a second thought.”

“So...” a perplexed Janet enquired as she visualised a scene. “...Steph has to put him in a nappy every night?”

“Oh no... he's a big boy and can put his own on.” Aunt Alice replied. “And if he can't do that he'll be packed off to boarding school.”

“Blimey.” Janet gasped. “No wonder he didn't want to stay up 'til midnight.” she said. “I had no idea he had a nappy on under his nightie.”

“Well now you know.” her mother said, before reiterating that she doesn't want Janet to tease her brother about having to wear nappies for bed at his age.

“Won't he get a nappy rash?” Janet quizzed after considering the time her brother will spend wearing a nappy each night and deducing that he will wet himself at some point.

“He wears nappy rash cream.” Aunt Alice stated as if it should have been obvious. “He's quite safe, and when he's got used to them he won't even wake when he wets himself... so he'll get a good night's sleep every night.”

“But...” Janet said as she unravelled Alice's words. “...that means he'll have to wear nappies... otherwise he'll wet the bed.”

“Exactly.” Alice confidently replied. “It helps them to not grow up too quickly and stops them from getting too big for their boots.” she claimed. “Reminding a boy that he's still a bed-wetter is the best way to curb the most boisterous behaviour.”

“I thought putting him in dresses was supposed to do that.” Janet recalled.

“Well like I said dear Janet... there's a lot more to petticoating than just putting a boy in a dress.” Alice replied.

“Yes I suppose there is.” Janet said as she pondered everything, from his extra early bedtime, his girlie clothes and underwear and having to say 'mummy' ...and having wear nappies again. “When I'm a grown up and if I have children... will I be expected to petticoat the boys too?”

“Yes... if you want continued access to the family trust fund, that is.”

“What trust fund?” Janet quizzed.

“The one that provides this house and our income.” her mother replied. “If I hadn't agreed to letting Alex be petticoated, we'd have lost all of this.”

Janet turned to her great aunt and asked “Is that true?”

Alice nodded. “It was set up by your great great great grandmother, a lady called Felicity Thornton at the turn of the century...” she explained. The old family were filthy rich and some of the males when young and reckless would gamble and drink and brawl in the streets, bringing shame on the family name whilst quickly frittering away the family money. Something had to be done to curb their behaviour and debreeching the boys is how Lady Thornton went about it. This was in the Victorian era when boys would be breeched at the age of six or seven (prior to that they wore frocks like their sisters). It wasn't uncommon amongst the upper middle classes for boys up to the age of ten or twelve to wear ornate white frocks on a Sunday... and Lady Thornton noted that boys were always on their best behaviour when frocked. Lady Thornton didn't invent petticoating because the concept isn't exactly rocket science... but what she did do was to set up a trust fund that would ensure the family wealth wouldn't be squandered and that the boys all be kept on the straight and narrow throughout their difficult transition from boy to man. “...so we petticoat the boys and the money trickles down through the female lineage.”

“So it's all about money?” Janet figured.

“Yes.” her mother replied. “But if everything Aunt Alice tells me is true, being petticoated will do your brother the world of good.” she added. “...at least in the long run.”

“How long will he be petticoated for?” Janet asked.

“At least until school leaving age.”

“Sixteen?!” Janet gasped. That's three years, she thought.

“You're forgetting finishing school Janet.” her mother said. “He's got a good five years of petticoating ahead of him.”

“Blimey!” Janet gasped. “Does Alex know?”

“I'm sure Stephanie has explained everything to him.” Aunt Alice replied.

What a way to spend new years eve, Janet thought as she imagined her brother, already tucked up in bed wearing a nightie and a nappy. All he's got to look forward to is doing that every night for the foreseeable future. Part of her felt sorry for Alex whilst part of her was intrigued. Will it really do him the world of good as Aunt Alice claims? Part of her wondered what would happen if Mum refused to petticoat Alex. Would they really be penniless, homeless and destitute? If that's the alternative then maybe it is for the best. It's certainly going to be an interesting year ahead, Janet mused as the final hours of 1982 slowly ticked away.