When we did go back to school in the new year, a couple of my friends felt sorry for Vincent when I told them about all the girlie stuff he’d got for Christmas. They remember him as a boy and still can’t get their heads around the fact that he now lives as a girl, even after all this time. I said nothing of my own girlie gifts, nor spending Xmas day wearing a dress. I did slip up by admitting to watching Tangled on Christmas Day and enjoying it… this resulted in a bit of teasing but nothing I couldn’t handle. Rapunzel is both cool and sassy in that film, even if she is just a cartoon character.
Every school day my Mother would ritually lay out the Malham Hall uniform on my bed ready for my return home, along with a clean pair of my frilly white ‘school’ knickers, a matching vest and either a pair of either white knee socks or bottle green tights. I’d rather not have to wear a girl’s school uniform whilst doing my homework, but it did ensure that my homework did get done and did have the knock on effect of my grades gradually improving. Not surprisingly, my mother claimed that the improvement was (in part) due to me studying whilst petticoated. I claimed that it’s more likely due to me simply taking the time to study properly instead of rushing through my assignments the night before they’re due. I suggested we test my theory by spending a week or a month not changing into the Malham Hall uniform, but Mother said it’s not worth risking my grades over and said that petticoating is a tried and tested study aid. “Just look at Sonia grade if you don’t believe me.” she suggested.
Since Christmas, whenever Mother picked up a ‘few things’ for Vincent, there was a good chance she’d pick up a few things for me too. Gradually my underwear drawer became overrun with girlie undies and I often found myself having to route through them in order to find a pair of my old boy’s undies… and each & every girlie item had my name written on a label. I used to wonder how Vincent managed to put up with so much girl stuff in his life, but I soon came to realise that one simply puts up with it. I didn’t mind wearing girl’s clothes after a while so long as my friends and neighbours didn’t find out… or my older brother for that matter.
Gregory wrote to Mother every month and Mother told us he was having a ‘whale of a time’ at college (Mother’s words, not his). He was due to come home at Easter and I can’t help but admit that I was dreading his return. Since Christmas the girlie side of my wardrobe has been added to considerably. Mother always used the same excuse when a new frock appeared, claiming she’d bought it for Vincent but it was a bit too big for ‘her’. When Mother told us that Gregory had taken another hotel job that would see him through the Easter holidays, I was naturally relieved. But I also felt that Gregory had abandoned Vincent and I in the house of freaks as he called it. I reckon these holiday jobs are just an excuse Gregory is using to avoid returning home. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were a big lie and that Gregory is in fact spending the holidays just hanging out with his new mates, playing pool and drinking beer. Whatever the truth… I’m glad he’s not going to witness both Vincent and I being regularly petticoated.
Unlike Broadoak Road School which has one uniform for the whole year, Malham Hall has a separate winter and summer uniform. I’d got used to wearing the winter pinafore and blouse after school each day, but from Easter through ’til October, Vincent has to wear the summer uniform… and in Mother’s eyes, that means I do too.
It felt weird at first as the purple & white gingham dress is so much thinner and lighter than the woolly pinafore I’d become accustomed to, but after a couple of weeks I just got used to it. As springtime progressed and days grew warmer, I began to wonder why my school doesn’t have a summer uniform too. My long school trousers can be unbearably clammy on some particularly warm days and I actually looked forward to getting home and changing into my light and airy school dress.