We had just returned, all high on adrenaline from the successes we had achieved after reading the official notice of the grades of our degree courses at the University of Aberdeen, in my case a 1st. Class honours in Land Management and Business Studies. The friends that I had shared a house with for most of my time there were all celebrating with me in one of the livelier bars in the city centre, before we all staggered home to prepare go out into the big wide world to forge our careers.

Callum, Rory, and Lexie, were all heading off the next day to visit their parents before starting work in positions they had already obtained. Kirsty, Morag and I were staying on for a few weeks until we managed to find the careers we were looking for. Like most students our idea of celebrating was getting blind drunk and staggering home to fall into bed, and I woke up the next morning with a head feeling like it was about to explode and a throat like sandpaper.

Callum, Rory, and Lexie were already packed and ready to go when I wandered into the kitchen to try to find some Paracetamol. When the other girls finally appeared we said our goodbyes, promising to keep in touch and get together for the graduation ceremony and every year on its anniversary. Kirsty, Morag, and I were sitting around quietly having breakfast, none of us in the mood for long discussions, me in the shorts and t-shirt that served as my pyjamas, the girls in something similar but with a more feminine twist, after two years together there was no shyness or coyness between us.

Our peace and quiet was interrupted by the musical call tone of my phone, I frantically dashed around to find where I had left it, and just managed to answer the call before it cut off.

“Good morning, am I speaking to Rowan Lee Grant?” asked a rather official-sounding voice.

“You are, who’s calling please?” In a very breathless throaty voice from all the whisky the night before and running around to try to find the phone. I was so used to cold-call salesmen that until I knew who a caller was and why they were phoning me, I tended to be quite curt with them.

“My name is Alistair Cameron, I am calling from McIntyre, Grant, and Cameron, we are solicitors in Inverness, I wish to talk to you about who I believe is your Great-aunt, Elspeth Grant. Can you confirm that I am speaking to the right person and that you are related?”

My brain was still muddled from last night’s drinking session and it took me a while to place her. I vaguely remembered visiting her with my mother, an old lady living somewhere up in the highlands, when I was very young. Not long after that visit my parents died in a plane crash and I was taken to live with my Mam’s brother Stephen and his wife Carol on their tenanted farm near Galashiels in the border country, I hadn’t seen her since then.

“I haven’t seen her or heard from her since I was a child, but I do remember an Aunt Elspeth.”

“Unfortunately I have to tell you that she died a week ago, and we have been trying to trace you ever since. You are a major beneficiary of her estate, I know that it is short notice but can you possibly come to our offices tomorrow at 10:30 to discuss things with me, there are things we need to clear up face-to-face?”

“I’ve nothing planned, so that will be fine, please text me your address and contact details or send an email to me to rowanlg@gmail.com, and I will see you tomorrow.”, I replied in a nervous voice, which always went up in pitch whenever I got excited, much to the amusement of the girls in the flat

“That was a bit mysterious Rowan, what was it about?” asked Morag eagerly.

“It was a solicitor about a distant relative, my Great-aunt Elspeth, who has recently died. Apparently I have been left something in her will and they need me to go to Inverness tomorrow to talk to them.”

“That’s a shame that she has died, but every cloud has a silver lining, there might be enough to keep you going until you find a job. Will you miss her?”

“To tell the truth I hardly knew her, the last time I met her I was only wee, about 5 or 6 years old. You know what it is like at that age, Everybody seems ever so old.”

“You had better get yourself sobered up, organised, showered, hair washed, and dig out some clean clothes that aren’t too crumpled like those you just threw on the floor last night.” Kirsty grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom. “Throw those smelly dirty clothes out here when you have stripped, you won’t want to put them back on after you have cleaned yourself up, just wrap a towel around your waist, it’s not as if we haven’t seen you like that before, even without the towel.” She giggled at the memories of the first time they all saw me naked when my towel hadn’t been tied properly and had fallen to the floor.

After I was cleaned, freshened, and dressed, Kirsty called me over and told me to sit down on a chair in the middle of the room.

“You haven’t even combed your hair since you washed it, just towelled it dry, it will end up all matted and knotted with all those natural waves and curls, stay there while I get my brushes and try to sort it out for you.”

She worked away on my hair for a while, getting rid of all the tats, and I had to admit she had made a good job of it, most of the natural curls were now just waves hanging down over my collar, and it would be a lot easier to brush it into my normal style.

“If you don’t mind me saying Rowan, you have lovely hair, a lot of girls would be glad to have what you have. It’s thick, naturally wavy and a gorgeous shade of rusty red. It will be a shame when you have to get it all cut off for a more professional image when you find the job you want.”

“You’re right, it has been okay while I have been at uni, students are allowed look a bit unkempt and bohemian, but most Land Agents are dealing with wealthy, very conventional, clients, I’d better get it sorted before I get a call for an interview. Thanks for doing that, it was nice to get pampered for a change, it’s very relaxing getting your hair brushed.“

“My pleasure, you can do the same for me sometime, Lexie used to do it for me, but she’s gone now.”

“It’s a shame that Lexie has left, she was always the life and Soul of the party, especially when Callum and Rory were off playing rugby or golf and it was only the three of you girls and me socialising together, she always made sure that I wasn’t left out of the chat.”

“You really mixed in with us girls, watching romcoms with us or listening to us drivelling on about clothes and makeup, we almost treated you as another one of us.”

“Anyway, I’d better get my clothes organised for tomorrow, I haven’t worn a shirt and tie for ages, they will probably need ironing and my suit was a bit crumpled last time I looked, which was months ago.”

Later we were having a hot chocolate drink before going to bed, having decided that I would need a clear head for the long drive in the morning. I couldn’t help noticing the girls glancing over to me several times and giggling.

“What’s up with you two, you seem quite giggly and girly tonight, is something amusing you.”

“Never mind us two being girly, with your hair brushed out and in your long t-shirt and shorts, you look just like another girl, if anyone came in they would just assume that now had a third girl in the house to replace Lexie.” Morag instantly cheekily replied.

“Don’t be silly, I look nothing like a girl.” blushing as I replied. To escape their giggles and comments I went off to my room for an early night.

Not long after dawn the next morning, I dressed in my best, to tell the truth my only, suit, shirt and tie, and a pair of brogues and I set off for the two and a half hour journey to Inverness, leaving the girls still asleep in their beds.

I easily found the offices of ‘McIntyre, Grant, and Cameron’, thanks to the miracle of satnav, parked up, and went into reception to ask for Mr Cameron.

Five minutes later I was shown into his office and noticed that he looked surprised to see me, with his brow creasing and his eyebrows lifting.

“Good Morning, er, Mr Grant, thank you for coming over to see me. I am the executor of the will of your Great-aunt Elspeth and need to appraise you of its contents. I had thought this was going to be just a simple matter, but it now seems there may be complications. I will read the introduction first and leave the details until later.”

‘I, Lady Elspeth Grant, Laird of Dulnain, save for a few bequests to my staff and friends as detailed below, leave my entire estate, property, goods and chattels, and the title of Laird to my Grand-Niece Rowan Lee Grant, my last known direct female relative.”

“I’m sorry, did you say Grand-Niece? You can obviously see that I am a boy, or a man, this must be some mistake. I know I haven’t seen her for years, but how could she make a mistake like that?”

“I did say that there was now a complication, that is it in a nutshell. To be honest when I spoke to you yesterday, I thought that I was speaking to a woman, you have quite a soft lowland lilting voice, and with your Great-aunt referring to you as her grand-niece, it was an easy mistake to make. If I had realised that I was speaking to a male I would have cut the call and not invited you over until I looked into this further.”

“What happens now, do I still inherit, or do you have to search for someone else?”

“I have been your Aunt’s solicitor for many years now, and she told me that for at least five generations back there are no known female-line descendants, other than you, obviously believing from your gender-neutral names that you were female. To be honest, in her later years she rambled a lot and sometimes got confused or forgetful.”

“Surely this can easily be sorted to allow me, as a male, to inherit, it was obviously just a silly error.”

“It’s not as simple as that, I have a letter here which she asked me to pass to you, which might explain the difficulty.”

“My dear Rowan, it’s a shame that we last met many years ago, I have missed you growing into the person who has now been left my estate and title and hope that you have the qualities to follow the long line of strong women who have looked after and passed on the estate to their descendants.

The title, Laird of Dulnain has been passed down the female line, and exclusively the female line, for many generations since the clan wars many centuries ago when our forebear Isobel Grant took the place of her sick husband to lead his liegemen in battle. With her long flowing red hair and her statuesque build riding at the head of her men she was an inspiration to those around her and on the death of her husband she, unusually, was granted all the rights and property of the Laird. Those have been passed down through the generations, including what has now become Dulnain Lodge, with the condition that it could only be passed to descendants, seen as strong determined women, in perpetual honour of her courage.

Years later at the nearby Battle of Cromdale in 1690 and at Culloden in 1745 during the Jacobite rebellions, along with other groups of the Clan Grant, her descendants Fiona and Elizabeth respectively led their men on the side of the government forces and were granted further land and property.

That was the last time that any of us have been in battle, during the Georgian and, to a lesser extent, the Victorian eras the roles of women became much more domesticated and our followers came under the command of the Clan Grant Chieftain. However strong-willed women that followed, including me, have continued the responsibility to maintain and improve the Lodge and the estate to grow it to what it is today.

I hope that you have the strength and character to carry this heavy responsibility on your shoulders. I regret that I never had the opportunity to meet you recently, and guide you through what is required of you, but if you have inherited the strong genes of your forebears, I am sure that you will prove to be a strong enough woman to make a success of your tenure and hopefully pass it on in due course.

If, for whatever reason due to other factors in your life you cannot carry on the family tradition, the entire estate will be donated to The National Trust for Scotland. Hopefully they will preserve the estate and contents and tell the story of the Grants of Dulnain to future generations.

Your loving Great-aunt Elspeth, Laird of Dulnain.”

“You see Rowan, my hands seem to be tied, she is very adamant that the property and title should be in the hands of a female. I’ll look into the legalities, but for the moment, if I were you, I would assume that the inheritance will not come your way.” Mr Cameron seemed genuinely disappointed at the likely outcome.

“I accept what you say, but is it possible that I could at least visit Dulnain Lodge to see what could have been?”

“It may be best not to, until something is sorted out, the estate manager and staff are expecting to see the next Laird, a female Laird, and I don’t know how they would react to you turning up.”

“When is the funeral and do I need to make any arrangements?” I felt that as the only nearby close relative that it was my duty to represent the family, as it would be impractical for my Uncle Stephen to leave his farm for a few days and face a long drive, particularly as he had never met her.

“Your Great-aunt left very clear instructions and the funeral is all arranged for a fortnight on Tuesday at the chapel on the edge of the estate, followed by a reception in the Lodge just outside Duthil near Carrbridge. You will be more than welcome to attend. I will be there with my partners, so you will not be completely surrounded by strangers.”

I drove back to Aberdeen, totally confused and despondent, my hopes had been raised very high, only to be dashed a few minutes later. When Morag arrived back at the house, I was halfway through a bottle of whisky to drown my sorrows, my eyes were red and bloodshot and I had been visibly weeping over my loss.

“What on earth is up with you Rowan, it is not like you to be drinking this early? How did it go today with the solicitor, can you now afford to take Kirsty and me out for a celebration drink?”

“Unfortunately there is nothing to celebrate, it has not been a good day Morag, probably a waste of time. Unless there is a miracle I will be getting nothing, instead of a 20,000 acre estate, a historic house and everything that goes with them.” I was interrupted by Kirsty’s return, which was convenient as it meant that I would have to tell the story only once. I told them everything that I had learned from Mr Cameron and they sat enthralled.

Kirsty was the first to recover from my tale. “Your Aunt Elspeth sounds quite a character, a strong woman, from a line of strong women, I think I would have liked to have known her. Are you going to her funeral? If you would prefer it, I am quite happy to come with you, I would love to see the Lodge. What about you Morag, you are awfully quiet?”

“This may sound weird, but please hear me out. If they were expecting you to be female, why not go to the funeral as a girl? Your Aunt obviously thought that is what you are, and it will be truer and more respectful to her memory if her niece was there. When we were giggling at you last night it was because without even trying you looked quite girly. You are about the same size and build as us, your hair could be gorgeous if properly styled and you have the pale highland complexion genes. With a bit of work you could quite easily pass for a girl, you’ve seen us without makeup and how we totally change when we glam up, if we can do that to ourselves we can do it to you too.”

“That’s a ridiculous idea, I have no intention of letting you get me into a dress and makeup, what would people think if they found out, besides I am sure that I will look stupid.”

“What have you got to lose? Most of our friends have left for pastures new, nobody at the funeral, other than Mr Cameron will know you from Adam, or Eve to be precise. Let’s give it a try at least and if you don’t like the results we will forget it. Go and get a shower to sober yourself up, wash your hair, and use some of my conditioning shampoo and we’ll see what we can do with you.”

After the girls primped and preened me, set my hair in rollers, and had given my face a full makeover, I had to agree that they might be right, a bit of makeup totally changed the appearance of my face.

“You see what can be done Rowan, now let’s get you properly dressed to see the full effect. Go and put on the tightest pair of briefs you have, to keep you really snugly in place, when you are dressed we want no signs of your manhood suddenly appearing.” Morag teased me as Kirsty went off to her room to find something suitable for me to wear.

“We’ll start with the top, see what suits you, then we’ll pick out a skirt to go with it. Put your arms forward so I can slip on this bra. We’ll sort something better out when we can, but for the moment you are getting breasts made from bags of rice.”

“ Do we really have to go that far now, tonight is only about seeing how realistic I look?”

“Of course we have to, how many girls do you know that are totally flat chested, and besides the clothes won’t hang right if you don’t have breasts. Just stand there like a good girl while I fiddle about with them to get a realistic shape.”

Kirsty came back with a bundle of clothes, she was the one that was nearest in size to me, and it was going to be her stuff to choose from.

After trying on four different types of tops, some of which were too clingy and didn’t sit well on my not quite right frame, showing bumps were there should be none at my waist, shoulders and upper arms, or making my false breasts look not quite realistic. The girls finally settled on a loose fitting ivory linen peasant blouse with full sleeves, which they thought fitted me well and contrasted with the colour of my hair.

“You don’t really need them with the briefs you have on but there’s a new unused pack of knickers for you, knowing you are wearing them will constantly remind you that you are now supposed to be a woman. Your legs need a bit of work, they are not too hairy for a lad, but there is far too much for a girl, these black 75 denier tights should cover most of it for now, be careful when you put them on. Roll them up first and slowly pull them over one foot at a time, then work them up your legs until you can pull them all the way up to your waist. Not too bad for a first attempt, no snags or ladders, now just smooth them down so that they are the same depth of colour all the way.”

The outfit was finished off with a red Stewart tartan skirt that came halfway down my thigh, and a pair of black court shoes with a 2” chunky heel.

“Give us a twirl then girl, let’s see what you look like from all angles. Hmm, not bad at all, go and have a look in the hall mirror and see what you think.” Kirsty suggested, “Those clothes suit you better than they ever did me, you can keep them if you want.”

“I don’t think that there is much chance that I will be needing them again, so you can have them back after I get changed.”

Looking in the mirror, I was shocked as I saw a quite attractive girl staring back at me, I couldn’t believe how much a different set of clothes and a bit of makeup had changed me. I noticed that the girls were now standing alongside me and I looked every bit a female as they did.

“What do you reckon then Rowan, if you were out with your friends and you saw that girl in the mirror across the room from you, would you fancy her?”

“Probably. OK you have proved your point I’ll go and get changed and clean of the makeup, then we can get something to eat and talk about what we need to do next.”

“Oh no girl, you don’t get off that easily. If you think that we’ve wasted a couple of hours getting you looking decent, then let you casually undo it all, you have another think coming. Give us a few minutes to get changed and made up, we can’t be outshone by you, then we are all going out to a quiet country pub for a meal and a drink. You might look the part at the moment, but you have a lot to learn.”

“I’m not ready for that yet, I don’t think I can do it.”

“Don’t be a wimp girl. If you are going to the funeral in a few days time, you need to be comfortable in your new identity. You need to get used to the clothes, how they feel, and how you behave and talk to people as a girl, you are going out with us whether you like it or not.”

To be continued.