Andrew took his books down stairs and laid them out on the dining table. “What do you look like?!” his dad said, chuckling.

“Don’t tease him George.” Andrew’s mother said. “And take no notice of your father Andrew.”

“I’m not teasing him.” Andrew’s father claimed. “I was about to say how nice he looks. I’ve always said if his hair gets any longer it’ll have to be put in bunches.”

“Did William have his hair in bunches too?” Andrew’s mother asked.

“Eventually.” Andrew replied, before telling his parents that William didn’t get on the bus this morning having vacated his home before his parents were up and that about ten prefects spent two hours looking for him.

“Silly boy.” Andrew’s mother sighed. “I honestly don’t know why you hang around with him.”

“He’s my friend.” Andrew replied.

“He’s a bad influence.”

After completing his homework, Andrew is told he can change out of his school uniform, and told to make sure he hangs it up properly. “Mu-um!” he hollers from the landing. “My bedroom door’s locked.”

“No it isn’t.” his mother shouts back.

“I mean, my old bedroom.”

His mother appears in the hallway. “Your old room’s out of bounds for the time being.” she tells him. “As well you know.”

“But… my clothes are in there.”

“There’s plenty in your room.”

“But they’re all girl’s clothes.” he frowned.

“I know.” his mother replied. She gave him the option of finding himself something to wear, or her finding something for him. Andrew rummaged through the drawers and the best he could find was a pair of pale blue pants with white heart shaped pockets on both front and back and a pale blue ribbed jumper. Other choices included a pair of dusty pink bell bottom jeans, turquoise pedal pushers, some purple paisley pants and several pairs of girls shorts… plus all the skirts and frocks in the wardrobe, of course.

Sheepishly, Andrew made his way downstairs. “I had a feeling you’d choose pants.” his mother said. “At least you kept you bunches in.” she added. “Turn around. Let’s have a proper look?” she asked. “Haven’t you got a training bra on?” she quizzed

“No.” Andrew meekly replied.

“Well go and put one on please… there’s plenty in your underwear drawer.”

“It’s not ‘my’ underwear drawer.” he muttered as he tramped back up the stairs.

“It is for the time being.” his mother stated.

Meanwhile, William is glad to be back in boy’s clothes… but he’s still in his parents’ bad books for absconding this morning. “Andrew was on the minibus… but I guess his mother had the good sense to get him up and get him dressed before he had chance to do anything rash.” William’s mother said, before assuring that he won’t have the same opportunity tomorrow morning. William hung his head, since the thought had crossed his mind several times. “How did you get on those shoes anyway?” his mother asked. “You won’t be used to heels will you?”

“They were horrible… and at dinner time and break, they made me play hopscotch. It’s bad enough trying to walk in them, let alone hop and skip!” he whined. “I’m surprised I didn’t twist my ankle.”

“Well I suppose playing a game like hopscotch will get you accustomed to them rather quickly.” his mother replied. “Did Andrew play hopscotch too?” she asked.

William shook his head and said that Andrew had to play skipping, with a rope. “It’s not fair that we have to play girlie games when the actual girls can just do what they want.”

“Well you are boys in a girl’s school remember. They’re just making sure you fit in.” she said. “Did Andrew get a girl’s name too?”

“Yeah… Alice.” William almost growled.

“Ooh I bet he loves that!” William’s mother sniggered.

“It’s better than Wendy.” William whined.

“It’ll help you fit in.” his mother said. “What classes have you got tomorrow?”

William shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Haven’t you got a timetable?”

“Er… it’s in that bag.”

“Your handbag?”

William gulped and nodded. His mother stood up and got it from the back of the chair where he’d hung it on his arrival home. “Does everyone have one?” she asked as she rested the small leather bag on her lap. William nodded. His mother opened it and he began to blush when she listed the items inside; spare tights, clean knickers and a hanky. “…ah, here we are.” she said, perusing the postcard sized chart. “You’ve got a dance class tomorrow.” she said, before listing the other classes; English, drama, history, maths, geography, domestic science and French.

“What’s domestic science?” he humbly asked.

“Cooking and cleaning and stuff like that.”

“That’s not science!”

“Well it’s good to know… it’s about time you started lifting a finger and helping around the house.”