“I’m pleased that you have decided to accept my offer.” Said Elenora.
Josie was giving her the decision face-to-face. She preferred to work that way.

“I know that you could do with the money for your transition, but my offer was based solely on economics. I have to run this estate as a proper business. I know that my son’s enterprise can turn a decent profit if… if and only if he has someone to direct him and keep his spending under control. Are you prepared to be his boss while you sort it out?”

“I am, but will he accept me as the de facto leader, at least temporarily?”

“He will. He does not like it, but I did read him the riot act last night. That trick with the computer was the last straw. You have my permission to put your knee where it hurts if he tries anything with you. I want you to be my eyes and ears in the business. Is that agreeable?”

“That’s the only way I’ll go forward.”

“Good. Why not come for tea on Friday afternoon around three? That way, you can report to me in person about your progress. Deal?”

“I think that we have a deal, Elenora.”

Elenora stood up and offered Josie her hand to seal the deal.

“I’ll call Charles and give him the news. Just don’t accept any BS from him. If you need something and he can’t deliver it, call me. I… or rather, the estate provided the startup funds for his enterprise, and I have to protect the investment. Yes, Charles is my son, but the estate is a business first and last. I hope that you understand this?”

“Elenora, I understand perfectly. You are the custodian of the estate, and it has to be protected, preserved and expanded.”

Elenora chuckled.
“You sound like my Financial Adviser. He told me not to invest in the company. I want to prove him wrong, but Charles needs a firm hand to keep him from going off on other wild goose chases.”

“I can only try my best. Let’s see what I find amongst all that sea of paper.”

“About that. I’ve had it all moved to another office on the site. The new office was where the estate was run from until we had a new complex built about five years ago. You can work undisturbed while you get things into some sort of order. The computer is being moved and connected to the network as we speak.”

“You knew that I was going to accept?”

She smiled at Josie.
“I had to hope that my understanding of you would be right and plan accordingly. So far, it has been.”

As Josie was leaving the big house, Elenora said,
“Remember that I’m mostly always here, especially if my son gives you any jip. If I’m not around, my estate manager will know how to contact me.”

“Thanks for having confidence in me,” said Josie.

“You will be fine.”

Josie smiled and went on her way.

Charlie was waiting for Josie when she arrived at the workshop complex. His demeanour was one of submission. That told her that Elenora was correct when she had said that she had read him the riot act and left him with a choice of stop pissing around, or he could say goodbye to any future funding from the estate.

In some respects, Josie didn't entirely blame Charles. He was like many men, more concerned about doing the job properly than being bothered by the paperwork. She’d seen it with her Uncle Bishan. He’d put all his time, energy and money into a Fruit & Veg Wholesalers only to find that after two years of hard work, a multi-national discounter moved into his neighbourhood. He soon found that he could not compete on price and went bankrupt. The last time she’d met her uncle, he was driving a refuse collection lorry for the local council. The upside was that he was happy in his job for the first time in years.

Once she got down to work, Charlie seemed to keep his distance. It was usually one of the twins who kept her supplied with tea and coffee. They were not great ones for idle conversation, so she kept busy until lunchtime. The weather was sunny, and there was a place to sit outside in the warm and eat a sandwich for lunch.

On the third day, one of the twins, Trevor, came into her office with a mug of tea and asked,
“That night at the pub, you were wearing a wig, yet here you aren’t. Is there a reason for that?”

Josie chuckled.
“I use my wigs as a way of hiding in plain sight. Some people would love to find me and not say, ‘Hello, how are you?’”

“That bad, eh?”
“Worse. Family battles and a war of wills. I would not do what my parents wanted, which was to marry someone who is almost illiterate, can’t speak English, and… That’s enough for starters.”

“What language do they speak?”

“A Pashtun dialect that has a lot of Farsi in it or just Farsi when it comes to officialdom.”

“Do you speak it, or did you once?”

“I’ve not spoken a word of it since I left home, and I don’t want to go back.”

“Good for you.”

After a little hesitation, he said,
“Don’t tell Charlie this, but since he met you, he’s gone a little bonkers.”

Josie smiled before saying,
“What? Even more than he was before?”

“I like you, Josie. Too bad that I’m married," said Trevor before picking up the used wrappings from her lunch and going back into the workshop. What he didn’t say caused a little shiver to run down her back.

Josie smiled and sat in the sun for a few minutes. Then, it was time for her to get back to work.

The next morning, Josie looked at her collection of more than twenty wigs. Trevor’s words the previous day had caused her to think a bit more about how she appeared to the world. With a smile, she chose a long ginger wig for the day. She smiled as she brushed it out and thought, ‘Why not give the boys a talking point?’

She refrained from putting it on there and then. She had decided to do that as she drove onto the estate. She reasoned that none of the people who lived on the same block as her had seen her wearing one during the day. Going out for the evening wearing one was one thing, and wearing one for work was another.

Josie arrived for work with the wig in place. It was one of her favourites as it was made from real human hair. She’d picked it up cheaply when a hairdressing salon had closed down, when the owner retired.

The large double doors to the workshop were closed when she arrived, so Josie went into her temporary office and began work. She'd made good progress and had just about sorted out the accounts for the first year of operation of the business. Luckily, it appeared that all the bills for that period had been settled. She didn't have the same level of confidence in the subsequent years' finances.

Josie was busy entering invoices into the accounting system that she'd found on the company computer. It had been installed soon after they started trading, but had never been used. The system was very similar to one that she'd used before. It took her a day to get it all set up. She was working through the first quarter of the company's second year when Charlie came into the office with her morning coffee.

“Trev said that he’d mentioned the pink wig. If you don’t mind me asking, how many have you got?”

Josie grinned.
“More than twenty. Why do you ask?”

“Because long hair looks a lot better on you than the short style.”

Josie blushed a bit.
“Thank you.”
Then, she decided to end the encounter before it got out of control.
“Don’t you have a car to work on?”

He just smiled and left her alone. Josie had to get her mind focused on her afternoon meeting with Elenora. She was the boss, and her future was in her hands. As she drank her coffee, she reflected on the past few weeks. Grudgingly, she had to admit to herself that working at the estate was far better than being a statistic in a multinational corporation that employed over 100,000 people around the world.

Just before 3 pm that afternoon, Josie left the workshop complex and, armed with two large box files and a laptop, she headed to the 'Big House' for afternoon tea and her regular update session with Elenora. She had both good news and bad news to report.

During the short drive, she tried to work out which of the two she should broach first. The question was still in the air when she arrived at the imposing property. Every time she visited it, she felt that she was way, way out of her league, despite the kind words from Elenora about her humble background not being all that dissimilar from her own.

“Come in and sit down, Josie. I can see that you have come prepared to talk business. First, some tea?”

“Please. No one at the workshop knows how to make tea properly. The stuff that they serve up is so strong it hurts, and the apology for coffee is like dishwater.”

Elenora laughed.
“I know. That’s why I stick to my own coffee when I visit.”

As Elenora poured them cups of Darjeeling, Josie said,
“I have been tempted to bring my kettle from home.”

“Do it. You won’t regret it.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Elenora.”

Elenora sat back and looked at Josie before saying.
“I take it that you have some bad news for me?”

“Some bad and some news. What do you want first?”

Elenora smiled.
“Why not start with the bad?”

“Ok.”
Josie opened the first of the folders.

“The failure of the company to register for VAT for almost two years of operation cost them around twenty-five thousand. That was the difference between making a loss and breaking even. Charlie told me that adding VAT to their costings would have scared off their early customers.”

Elenora smiled.
“Thank you for confirming that. Our accountant thought that might be the case, but was unable to prove it from the data that Charles gave them.”

Josie visibly relaxed.
“The good news is that two years ago, they made a profit. A small one, but after all costs and everything, they returned a profit of just over sixteen and a half thousand. The offset of that is that they owe around three thousand pounds in unpaid VAT. If… and only if we are creative with the next return, we can overpay it and hope that HMRC will not press us for fines. We’d need to give the option about the return to the accountants. I don’t want to update the accountants until I have the full picture. After that year, the business expanded and got a lot more complicated and…”

“Will it take you more time to give me a complete picture?”

“Yes, Elenora. I have the last two years to sort out before I can package up everything for the accountants.”

“I have to say that I’m impressed by this. You are showing skills that I didn’t know that you had.”

“I didn’t mention it before, but I do have an A-level in Accountancy. My family wanted me to become one and look after all the Persian-owned small businesses in the area where I grew up, and make me spy on them and see how their business was going. I left home before my A-level results came out because he wanted me to spend the summer with all the family in Iran after going to Mecca. That meant that I was going to get married, so I left.”

“It all starts to make sense now,” said Elenora.
“Is there anything else to report?”

“I should have last year’s figures on the computer by the end of next week. Another two weeks, and I’ll be done.”

“It is good to know your progress. Perhaps it is time to think a bit about the longer term?”

Josie visibly tensed up. Elenora saw this and smiled.
“Relax, Josie. I’m very impressed by your work. I’ve discussed things with my Estate Manager. The result is that we'd like you to come and work for us permanently. Some of our tenant farmers are just as bad at bookkeeping as my son is. I'd like you to become their first port of call when they need to get their accounts in shape for their year-end and VAT returns. I've run the numbers, and if the estate pays you ''x," we'd save around "3x" in accountant fees. They'll have sign-off authority, but you’d be responsible for the numbers that we submit to them. From what I have seen, you are very thorough and careful.”

Elenora reached onto a table behind her and picked up an envelope.

“This is our formal offer. Please take the weekend to think it over. Just bear in mind that the position comes with a place to live.”

Josie was lost for words.
“Thank… thank you. I will think things over and let you know as soon as I make a decision.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

An uneasy silence came over the room. It was Elenora who broke it.
“I was a bit unsure when you came in today wearing a wig. Then I remembered what Charles had said about meeting you for the first time. I could never manage with hairpieces when I was your age, but I do like you with longer hair. Please keep on wearing them… if you want to, that is.”

Josie felt a lot easier.
“Thanks, Elenora. I never know how people will take it when you turn up wearing one.”

“Changing the subject a bit, as you will be here for at least a few more weeks, we… as in the estate, put on a summer barbecue for all the employees and tenants. We supply all the food, beer and entertainment and also lay on transport home for everyone so that they can have a drink if they want to. I’d like you to come along as my guest.”

“I don’t know… it is a bit sudden.”

“And you are wondering what you can wear?”

“That’s one of the issues.’

“Then… drink up your tea and follow me. I have something to show you.”

A puzzled Josie followed Elenora upstairs and into an unused bedroom. A clothes rack was the only thing in the room.
“These are a load of old summer dresses of mine. Please take a couple and see what you can do to make them a little more modern. Those that are left will be donated to one of the charity shops in town. If there is nothing that takes your fancy, then I will not be offended. Ok?”

“Thank you, Elenora.”

Elenora stood back and let Josie look at what was on offer. All of them were designer labels and had not been cheap to buy.

Josie selected one dress. A classic red and white flower pattern on a black background. She held it up against her chest and looked at her reflection in the wall-mounted mirror. With a sigh, she returned it to the rack and continued her search.

“What was wrong with that dress?” asked Elenora.

“Too much cleavage. It would be difficult to wear falsies with that one.”

Elenora sighed.
“Not having breasts is a big thing with you, isn’t it?”

“Sort of. My body has not responded to the hormones, or rather the level of them that I would need to take to grow my own. They made me very ill. Therefore, it is down to having inserts. Glue on breasts with this dress would be hard to hide.”

Elenora took the same dress off the rack and held it up in front of her.
“I can see what you mean.

Elenora put the dress back and pulled out a red and white polka dot dress.
“Try this one? It should fit you.”

Josie looked at it. The scoop neck solved the cleavage problem.
“I think that I can do something with this. The next issue will be shoes. I don’t have anything that goes with this dress.”

“Yeah. That was why I only wore it once.”

Josie looked at the dress again. Slowly, a smile spread over her face.
“I remember seeing some red heels in my size in one of the charity shops in Oxford the last time I was there. I’ll go in tomorrow and see if they are still there.”

“Why don’t you take two of these other dresses with you? Perhaps they’ll do an exchange?”

Josie looked at Elenora in surprise.
“You’d do that for me?”

“My dear… You could do with a fairy godmother to help you over your troubles. I might not be a fairy, but showing a little kindness never goes amiss, does it? As I said, they are going to charity anyway, so why not try a little bartering?”

“Thank you very much, Elenora.”

“No, Josie. You are doing a great job and one that should have been done years ago.”

“Thanks.”
She selected two dresses from the rack. The designer labels alone should allow the charity shop to charge a lot more than the cost of the heels.

Josie went home happy. Her smile grew even wider when she read the job offer.
The next day, Josie took the bus into Oxford City centre. It was only when she was standing at the bus stop that she realised that she was wearing her ginger wig. With a smile and a shrug of her shoulders, she resisted going home and removing it. As the bus made its slow stop/start journey into the city, she decided that it was probably time to drop the androgynous look once and for all. The job offer presented her with a new chance to begin a life where she could earn more than enough money to save up for some new implants and then finish her transition.

Josie held her breath in anticipation as she approached the charity shop. There, on a rack in the shop, was the pair of shoes that she was after. She hoped for two things when she went into the shop. The first was that the shoes fitted her, and the second was that the shop would take the two dresses in exchange for the shoes.

Ten minutes a beaming Josie walked out of the shop. In a cotton bag in her hand were the shoes. The shop manager had taken one look at the labels on the dresses and agreed to do a swap. She treated herself to a Cappuccino at a coffee shop before heading to the supermarket on her way home.

The remainder of the weekend was spent deciding what to do with the dress and considering the offer of a job from Elenora. The offer was more than generous in Josie’s eyes. She was worried that it was considerably more than she was worth.

Monday morning dawned grey and wet. Even the weather failed to dampen her spirits. Late the previous evening, she’d decided to accept Elenora's job offer. Having somewhere to live on the estate would save her from having to drive 22 miles each way every day, including a rush hour journey along the Oxford Ring Road. The variation in traffic had made her late more than once. She’d just worked late on those days to make up the hours, but it wasn’t an ideal solution. Moving closer to her job would solve that.

That move would probably mean that her few friends from her old place of work would have to get along without her being their designated driver for their nights out. They weren’t true friends, but they’d been a help to her when she’d moved to the city. Having a car had been useful for them all, plus they’d all chipped in for petrol on their nights out.

For a while, she had regrets about leaving them until she remembered what the people who helped her get a new identity told her many times, ‘Life moves on, and things change. Go with the flow. That last bit was what convinced her to move.

Josie gave Elenora the good news when she called in at the workshop just before lunchtime.

“Welcome aboard.”

“Elenora, there is one thing. I’d like to delay becoming permanent until I have finished this job. I signed up to do this job, and I want to get it all done before I want to even think about Besides, I am supposed to give three months’ notice at my current place, although I suspect that my old boss has forgotten I ever existed and has already replaced me with someone who does not question his bad decisions.”

She smiled.
“That’s good with me. It will give me time to get the builders and decorators in at the cottage. It has been standing empty for the last nine months, so it needs a good going over before it would be ready for you to move in.”

Josie visibly relaxed. Elenora smiled.
“Don’t worry so much, Josie, there are some people in this world who are on your side.”

“Thanks, Elenora, but some of the places I’ve lived in and worked at since I became Josie are the exact opposite. One place… well, it was bad.”

“Just keep up with the good work, and everything will be fine. The estate accountant sent me an email over the weekend. He likes the way you presented the figures. It makes the job of his people a lot easier. As I said, keep up the good work.”

“Thanks for the dresses,” said Josie, changing the subject.
“The charity shop was only too happy to exchange them for the shoes once they’d seen the labels.”

“I’m only too glad to help.”

Josie wrapped up the operation at the workshop after five weeks. She could have done it a bit sooner, but had wanted it to be right and able to withstand any HMRC investigation. It had taken her almost a week just to scan all the invoices and delivery notes into the system. And filing them in the right place in the accounts system. The last few days were spent drilling home the necessity of following the process she had documented with every order placed and, even more importantly, with any customer order they received.
Her closing words were,

“I’ve done this one time and one time only, and thanks to Elenora, it won’t appear in your accounts. From now on, I work for the estate, not this workshop; therefore, I will be charging commercial rates that will come out of the business P&L.”

Her warning might have seemed stern, but it had been approved by Elenora in a meeting that they'd had just held before Josie began to wrap up the work.

Back at her small flat, Josie was trying to put a quart into a pint pot with her possessions. Since moving to her current place, somehow, she’d acquired a lot of ‘stuff’. It wasn’t only clothes. She now had two sewing machines; both were bought second-hand. One of which needed some TLC. The pint pot was her small car. Then there was the matter of its MOT certificate about to expire, and despite saving most of the money she’d earned working at the estate, she was fearful about the cost of the repairs that she’d have to do to make it roadworthy for another year. Her estimate of the cost of two new tyres and a new exhaust was probably just the tip of the iceberg.

One whole weekend of sorting had left her with three piles of ‘stuff’. One for recycling, one for taking and one for ‘a second look’.

Then she was faced with finishing off her outfit for the estate BBQ and Fun Day. After a lot of careful thought, she decided to tone down her outfit so as not to become the star of the show. Showing up the lady of the manor, Elenora, at her event would not look good to the tenants.

That was a shame as she’d found a fantastic hat in the same charity shop where she’d exchanged the dresses for the shoes. It was the sort of thing that someone would wear to Ladies Day at Royal Ascot. It was made of a black mesh-like material with a brim at least 50cm in diameter. A white silk band tied in a bow finished it off perfectly. All she needed to do was to change the white ribbon to one of the same shade of pink as her dress, and she'd be all set to go… until she thought about upstaging the host of the event.

The hat was out. A length of white ribbon in her red hair would have to do instead.

Josie spent her evenings getting her place sorted out before leaving. Her landlord had already started showing the place to prospective tenants. He was also raising the rent by 30%. Josie quietly tipped these prospective renters off about that increase. They smiled and told the landlord that they would think about it.

She'd done that because he was holding her to her notice period despite being able to rent the place easily as long as he was sensible about the rent.

It was a bit of an anti-climax when she declared to Charlie that their books were now all squared up.

“When are you moving to the cottage? My mother said that the decorators moved out two days ago.”

“I’m aiming to move in over the weekend.”

He smiled.
“Don’t forget the event at the house on Saturday afternoon?”

Josie smiled.
“How can I forget? I had difficulty parking there yesterday when I had my wrap-up with her before I sent the last of the accounts to the accountants.”

At the mention of money, the smile disappeared from Charlie’s face.
“What’s the final damage? How much do we owe the VAT people?”

“Just under three and a half grand, I’m afraid.”

“I thought that it would be more than that?”

Josie smiled.
“According to your accountant, if you pay it with interest next month, no further action will be taken. He’s working on the final deal. Given the two almost new Range Rovers that arrived yesterday, the profits from their conversions should easily cover that as long as you are sensible with the finish, especially if you can sell those engines for a decent price.”

“I suppose so.”
Charles shook his head. He was starting to understand just how sharp a cookie Josie was.

“Cheer up. Now that your accounts are in shape and it is clear that you are making a profit, isn’t it time to get that new paint booth? Some of those old Land Rovers that the estate uses could do with a good paint job. They’d be perfect to try out the new booth.”

“True. It is time to think of the future and how we can take the business to the next level.”

Josie grinned.
“That was very much what your mother said yesterday. I’d give it six months before you do anything radical. You will need a full-time person to work on the bodywork.”

*Charlie laughed.
“I can see my mother’s ‘plan carefully’ is rubbing off on you, but how did you know about the bodywork?”

Josie grinned.
“I have watched a few TV shows about building custom cars in the USA. The companies involved in the best work had specialists who only deal with the bodywork and paint. If you invest in a paint booth, then you need to use it a lot just to get the capital back. That’s basic economics, but it might mean doing a deal with local repair shops just to increase the use of an expensive asset.”

“Yes, boss!”

They both laughed.
Josie cleared up the office that she’d been using for the past few weeks. Starting on Monday, she’d have an office at the much more modern estate HQ. Her new place of work, while adequate, was a lot smaller than the old place. Still, there was a coffee maker and a microwave in a small alcove next door and people to talk to. After a frosty reaction at first, Gordon, the Estate Manager, had seen for himself just how good she could be for the estate and had even apologised for his gruff reception on her first day.

For a moment, Josie was able to relax and begin to feel at home.
[to be continued]