Peter isn’t happy with the fact that they walk to the restaurant instead of driving, and it seems to take ages. His mother, aunt and cousin James walk ahead. “So when did George get transferred?” Helen asks her sister-in-law.
“A couple of weeks ago.” Jo replies.
“I thought he would have told me.” Helen says. “He is my brother after all.”
“He’s not too happy about it… the company have been restructuring over the last few months and he was given the choice of a redundancy or a transfer.” she explains. “And we can’t really survive on just my wage so he had to take the transfer. It’s less pay, but it’s better than nothing.”
“That’s probably dented his pride a bit… does he work every evening?”
“Morning and evening on a five ’til eight split shift, six days a week.” Jo states.
“I thought we’d have seen him.” Helen says, knowing they arrived no later than three thirty.
“Well… to be honest it has dented his pride. He knew you and Peter were dropping in and decided to leave a bit early.”
“Why on earth would he do that?” Helen asked, feeling more than a little offended that her own brother had actively avoided them.
“He has to wear a uniform and he’s not quite ready for you to see him in it.”
“Oh I see.” she says, realising the obvious.
Her sister-in-law describes the plain ‘domestic’ frock her husband now wears for work, along with the tabard he wears over it. “It’s having to wear tights and heels too that he’s really struggling with.” Jo adds.
“Hmm.” she says trying to visualise her brother. “It must be hard for him… but the world is changing.”
“It is… and for the better.” Jo replies. “Michael wasn’t happy when I took his last pair of trousers… but it’s only fair, if his father has to wear a frock for work then he should wear a skirt for school.”
“Yes… I’m still toying with how to get Peter to wear one. We have a kind of deal where, if more than half the boys in class are wearing skirts then he should too.” Helen explains.
“Just buy him one and be done with it.” Jo suggests. “He’ll spit and shout and curse but… it’s not his decision. It was only a couple of weeks ago I finally put a stop to Michael dressing like a girl.”
“And how’s he getting on?” Helen asks.
“Well… how do you think he’s getting on?” Jo asks.
Helen turns around to check on her son and nephew who walk a few yards behind. “They do look pretty.” she observes.
“Yes… like proper young men.” Jo smiles.
“You’re being quiet Pete.” his cousin Michael says as Peter hasn’t spoken a word since they left the house.
Peter tells him that he feels really weird being dressed ‘like this’ in broad daylight.
“I thought you’d have got used to it since your birthday.” Michael replies, assuming that Peter is now wearing a dress on a daily basis.
“Not outside though.” Peter gulps. “I have to wear a dress every Sunday and I’m not going to leave the house if I can help it.”
“Why not?”
“Der…” Peter retorts, “Because I’m wearing a dress!”
Michael empathises with his cousin and reminisces over his transitional period. “When it was only once in a while I used to hate wearing them, unlike James…” he explains glancing down the lane toward his younger brother; his ringlets and ribbons bouncing as he intermittently skips to keep up with the adults, “But then mum decided I had to wear a skirt or dress all the time.”
“What? Just like that? No Pants!.”
“Well…” Michael continued, “I talked her into letting me wear my school pants, which was a fair deal I guess.”
“So how come you started wearing a school skirt?” Peter asks. “I thought you’d be the last person to give in.”
“Mum just decided a couple of weeks ago.” Michael shrugged. “You know how they are… this idea that wearing pants is all of a sudden dressing like a girl.”
“Tell me about it.” Peter agrees. “Even if mum did buy me a school skirt I’d still wear my pants whether she liked it or not.” he defiantly added.
“That’s what I thought until one day I didn’t have any pants.” Michael replied. “Once I’d got my head around the fact that skirts and dresses are in fact boys clothes, it’s not so bad.” Michael says. “Call me weird but I don’t really miss my pants any more.”
“You’re weird.” Peter teases. “I don’t think I’d ever get used to dressing like this all the time.” he adds, looking down at himself. “…and these tights are itchy.”
“They look nice though.” Michael states. “And they don’t itch if you shave your legs.”
