A TURN OF THE MOON
Day Six
by
Jessica Drew

My spoon clinked against the bowl as I finished off the fresh yogurt and strawberries. It was a brighter day today. The rain clouds had moved on and the morning sun lit up the kitchen just the way I liked it. I sat at the counter in my peach PJs, with one thigh crossed over the other, gently swinging my dangling leg.

I had a radio talk show on for some background noise, but I was only half listening. I was faintly amused to realise it was Women’s Hour. They seemed to be discussing the challenges of returning to work after maternity leave, but I wasn’t interested enough to follow what they were saying.

Lauren was still upstairs getting ready after her bath. I’d left her to it and come downstairs to fix myself something to eat. As I finished my food, I found myself replaying Doctor Rourke’s visit in my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been observing me like some sort of lab rat. He’d seemed… excited, almost.

I suppose I could understand it. I’d probably be pretty curious about a case like mine too. If I wasn’t living it.

The good news was he’d seemed fairly confident they were on the right track to understanding this and producing a cure. The bad news was I had to wait another seven days to find out.

Another week as a woman.

I set my empty bowl aside and reached for my wedding ring, now hanging on a thin silver chain around my neck, rolling it between my fingers.

I turned, hearing the sound of Lauren’s bare feet padding down the staircase. “Hey, beautiful,” she said, smiling. She was wearing light beige leggings today and a soft grey top, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. Her look was casual and effortless, without a hint of self-consciousness, carrying through into how she moved and held herself. She walked towards me, planting a kiss on my shoulder.

“Morning,” I smiled. As I breathed in, I could detect a pleasant floral scent. “You smell... nice,” I said.

“Do you like it? It’s the rose bath salts.” Lauren held her wrist in front of me. I inhaled. “You should try it next time.” Lauren let her hand drift across my back as she moved past me into the kitchen. She opened a cupboard and fetched herself a bowl. “I hope you left me some yoghurt,” she said.

“Yes, though the strawberries are a bit iffy now,” I said. I glanced at Lauren’s outfit again. It was something I could have worn. Oh... when did that happen?

“There should be enough shampoo for you to wash your hair this morning,” Lauren said as she went to the fridge. “But... I’m going to need to pop out today and get us some supplies.” She placed the yoghurt carton on the kitchen counter.

I nodded as I considered being left alone in the house for the first time since the accident. “We need bread and milk too,” I reminded her.

Lauren paused, looking back at me. “Did you, uh... did you want to come with me?”

My eyes widened and I felt a chill pass through me. My arms prickled with goosebumps. “Ah, no... no, I’d rather stay here.”

“That’s okay, I figured I’d just ask,” Lauren said softly.

I took a deep breath. For a moment I had felt the outside world encroaching upon me, threatening to reach into the house and pull me out. I hadn’t realised quite how dependent I’d become on the safety of our home until now.

Lauren joined me at the breakfast bar, hopping up onto the stool beside me. “Is there anything else you need me to pick up for you?” Lauren asked as she mixed the yoghurt and fruit with her spoon.

“No, I don’t think so,” I answered, though I was still too flustered to give it some proper thought. I absently rubbed at my bare leg, my skin feeling prickly under my palm.

“Everything okay?” Lauren said, noticing.

“Yes... well, it just feels a little scratchy, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Lauren reached over, running a hand against my thigh. “Maybe I should pick you up a razor while I’m out. If you get desperate, you can use mine today.” She removed her hand and took a mouthful of yoghurt.

“Uh... thanks, I guess?” I said, feeling awkward about it.

“Are you feeling okay about this week?” Lauren asked, glancing at me as she ate.

“Well... staying like this for another week wasn’t exactly my first choice,” I said, toying with the wedding ring around my neck.

“I know. I feel the same,” Lauren said. “But can you do it?”

I took a deep breath, gazing past Lauren to the rear windows, and the real world outside. “Yeah... I can do it.”

* * * * *

The shower water ran down over the curves of my body as I rinsed out the last of the conditioner from my hair. At Lauren’s suggestion, I’d let it sit a little longer today. It seemed to have done the trick. As I ran my hands back through, I noticed how smooth it felt.

I ran my hands over my body, making sure the last of the body wash had rinsed away. Then, lifting a leg, my palm slid once more across the prickly stubble that had formed. As a man, I hadn’t been that hairy, just across my legs and under my arms. I was used to not giving it a second thought. I felt my underarms, noticing the same uncomfortable roughness. It wasn’t even that I cared about how it looked. After all, my hair was fair enough that it didn’t really show. It just felt so itchy. Lauren hadn’t even thought twice about suggesting I shave my legs. She was all ready to go buy me my very own lady-razor! But maybe it would... just help.

I decided that if I was going to do it, there was no point putting it off. I took Lauren’s shaving gel from the porcelain shelf, and poured it into my palm. I began spreading it over one of my legs, starting at the thigh and working down to my calf, where the stubble was most noticeable. I continued until my leg was covered in the smooth cream.

I reached for my razor, which had been unused since my transformation. It was angled, sleek, and a little weighty in my hand. I then picked up Lauren’s razor, looking at it side-by-side with my own. At first glance, it looked just like a pink version of mine, but it felt lighter, and was shaped a little differently, with a rounder head. With the shower water still pouring over me, I returned my own razor to the shelf.

I began to draw the razor lightly across my thigh, pausing every now and then to rinse the razor head beneath the water. It wasn’t like shaving was an alien experience for me, but it was certainly different shaving the contours of my leg rather than my face. I was also more aware of the difference in skin texture between my soft thigh and firmer calf. I found I had to adjust my technique as I went along.

I switched to my other leg, applying the gel and carefully shaving from my thigh downwards. As I bent forwards I felt the shifting weight of my breasts. The distraction caused me to nick myself on the back of my calf, but it was just a light scratch and it didn’t bleed too much.

I rinsed under the hot water, and bent forwards, running a hand over each of my legs in turn. I found a small patch I had missed and swept the razor back over. Finally, my legs were as smooth as they had been on my first day of being a woman. Except this time I actually appreciated it. Gone was that itchy, scratchy stubble, replaced with a supple smoothness that felt pleasant to the touch.

I raised an arm and grazed my fingertips against the stubble of my armpit. Well, there was no point leaving the job half-finished. I applied more of the gel to each armpit and used the razor in a broad sweeping motion. It didn’t take me long at all, and I managed not to have any more accidents.

My gaze then drifted downwards, to the blonde pubic hair between my legs, wondering if I should be doing anything with it. I reached tentatively down, my fingertips just grazing at where the soft hairs began. It seemed less coarse than I was used to. A flicker of unease passed through me – but not that sharp sense of loss I was used to. This was something else. I quickly pulled my hand back and focused on washing Lauren’s razor thoroughly under the hot water.

* * * * *

I toweled myself dry in the bathroom, pausing to let my hands slide around my thighs, feeling their silky smoothness. Satisfied, I slipped into my plush white robe and cinched the belt at my waist. I took a smaller towel from the heated rail and tried to work out how to wrap it around my wet hair like I’d seen Lauren do. In the end, I just sort of rolled it up, like I was wrapping a parcel. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. No, that wasn’t it.

I made my way back down the hallway towards the bedroom. I’d mostly managed to get out of the habit of stomping or plodding around– which my back and hips were already thanking me for. As I walked with my legs closer together, I could feel the occasional brush of my freshly shaved inner thighs.

I could hear music coming from the bedroom and when I entered Lauren was sat at the vanity table, applying her makeup, with Taylor Swift playing through her phone. We exchanged a smile as Lauren glanced at me through the reflection of the mirror.

It was nice to have a bit of background music. It was like we could just enjoy each other’s company without that expectation of what happens next. I stepped towards the dresser, pausing in front of the full-length mirror. The towel around my hair all but slipped away on its own. I ran it through my hair again, realising I’d have to wait for Lauren to finish before I could brush it and use the hairdryer. We really were having to get ready around each other at the moment.

I turned to the dresser and instinctively opened the underwear drawer. Then I remembered what Lauren had said yesterday about matching my bra and panties to the outfit I was going to wear. I slid the drawer shut for the moment and opened the next drawer down. The first thing I noticed was my beige sweatpants, now neatly folded alongside Lauren’s leggings and hosiery. I pulled them out, my thumb brushing against the familiar fabric. Glancing back towards Lauren, I realised that her leggings were nearly the same colour as the sweatpants I was holding. If I wore them, we’d look like a matching set! And I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate that.

I placed them back in the drawer and settled on a pair of black leggings instead. I opened another drawer, sorting through for a suitable top. Luckily, black went with everything, so I pretty much had my pick. I chose a soft teal top with long sleeves.

Okay, now back to the underwear. I selected a plain black bra and panties, figuring they were the safest match with what I’d chosen. I looked back towards Lauren, thinking I’d just check with her first. She was engrossed in applying her mascara while the music filled the room. No, this is right.

I let my robe slip from my shoulders and began to dress. The black bra and panties looked to be identical to the set I had worn a couple of days ago. It made sense that Lauren would own several sets of the basics. Reassured by the familiarity, I slipped the panties on and fastened the bra, even managing to hook it on my first try. I bunched the leggings and stepped into them, drawing the fabric up my calves and then over my thighs. They practically glided up my smooth, shaved legs. I tugged the waistband high and smoothed them over my hips and backside.

I threaded my arms through the teal top and pulled it down over my body. I gently freed my hair from the neckline and flicked it over my shoulders. As I smoothed the hem, I paused, looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes widened. I saw that the top had a lower neckline than I expected, exposing my collar bones and upper chest, with just a hint of cleavage. I tugged on the top, trying to see if I could get it to settle any differently.

“Everything okay over there?” Lauren’s voice came from behind me as she turned the music down a little.

“Ah, yeah… I just… I didn’t realise this top was… like this.”

“Like what? Cute?” Lauren said, grinning mischievously.

“I’m… a bit on display, aren’t I?” I said, feeling a warmth in my cheeks. I crossed my arms, gripping the hem of the teal top. I began to pull it up when Lauren rose from her seat.

“Hold on a second, let me show you something,” she said and picked up the chain that held my wedding ring from where I’d left it on the bedside table. Slowly, I lowered the top again as Lauren came up behind me. She carefully brought the chain around my neck. I breathed in, pulling my blonde hair forwards so she could fasten it. “There,” she said, adjusting the shoulders of my teal top. “Take a look.”

I looked in the mirror and saw how my wedding ring hung from the chain, now resting directly against the exposed skin of my upper chest. I reached up, turning it between my fingers. Lauren held my shoulders, looking past me to the mirror. “See? That works.”

My wedding ring now looked like a centrepiece to my outfit, framed by the lower neckline of my top. It was flattering, just… not quite what I was used to.

I took another deep breath and turned slightly, checking myself from the side in the mirror. “I… guess it’s okay,” I said.

“I like being able to see your wedding ring like that,” Lauren said. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before returning to the vanity table.

I reached up, my fingers grazing absently against my cheek.

* * * * *

Lauren walked ahead as we made our way to the rear entrance of the garage. I paused in the doorway, watching her. She wore a denim jacket over her light grey top and beige leggings, with a leather purse hanging over one shoulder. Her brunette hair was worn back in a ponytail and she had a pair of sunglasses perched on top of her head. Even though she was dressed casually, she still looked effortlessly put together, from her white sneakers to the bracelets on her wrists.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Lauren asked, clasping my hand.

I nodded, giving a hesitant flicker of a smile. “I’ll be alright,” I said quietly.

“I’ll try not to be too long,” Lauren said, squeezing my hand. She opened the door of the red convertible and got into the driver’s seat. She turned the ignition and the engine hummed to life. She pulled out of the garage, waving a hand back at me and giving a quick beep of the horn.

I watched her drive away up the sloped, curving driveway. Even after the car had disappeared from view, I remained there, listening until the sound of the engine faded into the distance.

The garage fell silent. I quickly hit the switch for the door, sealing myself away once more.

* * * * *

I drifted back through the house, the sound of my bare feet echoing against the smooth polished floor. The ceilings seemed higher, the walls further apart. I went to the kitchen and poured myself a juice, taking it over to the lounge area. I sat down and crossed my legs, feeling small. Even the sofa seemed to swallow me up.

I’d never had a problem being on my own before. In fact, I quite enjoyed my own company. I would read, or stick on the horror movies that Lauren refused to watch with me. Today, I felt her absence more keenly than ever.

My body had changed, my routines had changed… I looked down at my crossed legs - even the way I sat had changed. But Lauren had been constant. She’d been the same Lauren as before the accident. For her it was like I’d just broken my leg and needed a bit more help around the house.

I grabbed the TV remote, flicking it on. I wasn’t sure I could settle with a movie, but at least I could try and watch something to occupy my mind. I stared blankly at the screen, twirling my blonde hair around my finger as Married At First Sight droned in the background. It clearly wasn’t enough of a distraction, as I found my mind wandering again. I remembered what Lauren had said the other day – that she didn’t want to watch me disappear again.

Before my job at Axis Labs I’d worked as a research technician at another big pharma. I’d been made redundant and really struggled to find another job. It wasn’t like we really needed my income. I didn’t earn that much compared to Lauren, who ran her own business. But I’d keenly felt that loss of purpose – of direction. I had spiralled and I stopped taking care of myself. I barely even spoke to Lauren. It was a wonder she hadn’t left me then. But she dug in, and she dug me out. It had been Lauren who suggested we move out to the lakes, where the air was clean, and it was quiet and peaceful. A place to heal. I also think she was fully aware that nestled in the valley on the other side of the hills was Axis Laboratories. I think she knew that when the time was right, I’d apply for a role there.

Since my accident at Axis - since becoming a woman – I hadn’t even had a chance to sit still. I was too busy washing my hair… And learning how to even walk properly.

It wasn’t like last time where I’d spend weeks watching shit on the TV. Shit like this.

I quickly switched the TV off again.

At first, I just sat there, staring blankly. Then after a while I got up and began wandering from room to room. I found myself in the spare bedroom, gazing at its untouched bedspread and characterless décor. I moved over to the window and looked out. Whereas our bedroom overlooked the lake, the spare room looked out over the front yard and the main road beyond. My eyes settled on the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

Maybe I could just…

My hand rested against the cool glass of the window.

* * * * *

I stood by the front door of the house and took a deep breath. I needed to prove to myself that I could do this. Just one foot in front of the other. That’s all I had to do. I looked down at the shoe rack that we kept by the door. My first instinct was to grab my black work shoes. Not because I thought they would magically fit me now, but just because I had to feel it again. The difference. I arranged them in front of me and slid my feet in. Easily. The shoes were too wide, my toes didn’t reach far enough, and there was a gap at the heels. I felt like a kid trying on his dad’s shoes, only this wasn’t something I was going to grow into. I stepped out of them and put the shoes carefully back onto the rack.

I then noticed the black flats – the same pair that Lauren had chosen for me yesterday. I put them on. They fit. Of course they did. I bent each leg back in turn, reaching to pull the heel over.

I hesitated, fussing with my top and running my hands through my hair. Relax, no-one’s going to see you. I’d just walk out to the mailbox and back. No big deal.

I reached for the door handle, turning it. The morning light caused me to squint and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The green grass of the front yard stretched out before me, the driveway curving uphill where it met the main road. There were enough trees and hedges that we had a fair amount of privacy, even out front.

I looked down to check myself – making sure I wasn’t suddenly naked like some sort of anxiety dream. Well, not quite. From this angle I could plainly see my cleavage beneath my low-cut top, along with a hint of my black bra. I tugged self-consciously at the neckline, then let my fingers settle on the ring at my neck. Not only did it help anchor me, but I could cover myself a little at the same time.

I took my first step across the threshold of the door. And then another. Slowly I began to walk up the driveway. I felt the cool air against my face, my blonde hair lifting a little. I looked up at the tall trees ahead of me as they rustled gently, birds singing in their branches. Behind me I could hear the gentle lapping of the lake. The incline was just enough to feel it in my thighs.

I was about half way up when I heard the sound of an approaching car. I froze, waiting for it to pass. We didn’t get much traffic, but when we did they came through fast. The car sped past in a blur.

I listened for a moment, then walked the rest of the way up to the mailbox. I folded my arms protectively and tentatively peered down the road both ways. This was my own home, my own neighbourhood. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I opened the mailbox and collected the few letters we had.

I flicked through the letters and then glanced up. Old Vic was our nearest neighbour and lived just the other side of the main road. His driveway rose up the hill to his house. He’d lived alone since his wife had passed away a year or so back. He was a pleasant enough guy, but with the age gap we didn’t have too much to do with each other. Plus, his dog seemed to hate me. At least it would give me warning. Vic's dog would be barking at me long before he appeared.

Or so I thought.

I caught sight of Vic walking around the side of his house and into the front yard, carrying a bucket in one hand and a trowel in the other. It took me a moment to notice the dog was already sat in the yard by the house, looking in my direction, casually panting. Vic was far enough away. He hadn’t noticed me – but that didn’t stop my heartbeat suddenly racing. A fear of being seen... like this.

I turned on my heel and hurried back down the driveway, clutching the letters.

* * * * *

I slammed the front door behind me and quickly made my way into the lounge, tossing the letters onto the coffee table. Dropping onto the sofa, I picked up my unfinished glass of juice and glugged it down. I took a deep breath. I was actually trembling a little. I’d done it. Though it hadn’t exactly been graceful.

I fiddled with my hands, trying to focus on my breathing. I picked up the letters from the table, still feeling jittery.

There was one addressed to Lauren which I left. The other two were addressed to a Mr. Scott Carter. Does not exist at this address, I thought.

I slid my fingernail along the top of each envelope. A bill… and junk. I put the bill to one side and screwed the junk mail up in my hands. I picked up my empty glass and walked through to the kitchen. I set the glass down in the sink and opened the bin. I hesitated as something caught my eye. A folded-up piece of paper sat on top of the rubbish. I carefully picked it out and unfolded it. At the top of the paper was a familiar logo.

Axis Laboratories.

It was the questionnaire Doctor Rourke had handed to Lauren yesterday – the extra information they wanted us to collect. She’d thrown it away in disgust before I’d even had a chance to read it.

My eyes darted down the page, scarcely believing what I was reading. Words and phrases jumped out at me.

Breast sensitivity… pelvic discomfort… hormonal changes…

I paused, my grip tightening on the paper as I read further down the page.

Emotional reactivity… behavioural changes… social engagement…

My reading slowed, catching on certain words, reading them again.

Arousal… activity… outcome…

My eyes darted evasively around the room. Just when I thought I had a slight handle on things, I’d been confronted with the simple fact – I really didn’t know this body at all. I looked down at myself, watching my exposed cleavage swell with each breath.

I closed my eyes, shutting the reality away for a moment. This is just... data. They’re just curious. It doesn’t mean anything. Doctor Rourke said he felt confident about a cure. Seven days. I don’t need to think about this.

I strode over to the back porch, sliding the glass door open. The lake stretched before me, shimmering in the light. I quickly walked to the edge of the decking, holding the paper up, letting it flutter in the breeze for a moment. Just let go.

Above the sounds of the lake I began to hear a familiar rumble. It was the convertible, pulling up at the front of the house. Lauren. I took a deep breath, my eyes a little moist. I folded up the paper and slid my hands over my hips, searching for a pocket. Damn. I looked down. Not knowing what else to do with it, I tucked the folded paper under my bra.

* * * * *

I opened the door leading to the garage, just as Lauren popped the trunk of the car. She lifted her sunglasses back on top of her head, smiling at me.

“Oh, good timing. Do you mind taking the heavy bags?” she said, but then checked herself. “I mean - we’ll just share them.” She looked away for a moment, brushing hair back behind her ear.

I felt my cheeks warm as we collected the grocery bags between us and made our way back into the house.

“Have you been, okay?” Lauren asked as she walked ahead of me.

I cleared my throat before answering. “Yes, I’m fine,” I said as I heaved the bags up onto the kitchen counter. “I didn’t realise we needed so much.”

Lauren lifted her own bags up and placed the car keys on the side. “I thought I’d stock up. You know… in case you just want to hunker down for the next few days,” she said, turning to look at me. Her eyes swept across my face and she cupped a hand to my cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I gave a quick smile and a nod. “Actually… while you were out. I made it outside.”

Lauren lowered her hand, looking surprised. “You did? Well… uh, where did you go?”

“The mailbox.”

Lauren giggled.

“I’m serious!” I said, smiling more easily now.

“I’m sorry, honey. I thought you were going to say you’d gone to Gabriella’s for coffee or something!” she teased, before softening again. “Seriously though, it sounds like you did great.”

As I unpacked one of the grocery bags, I came across a bottle of red wine. “Oh, is this to celebrate my achievement?” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Well, why not?” Lauren said. “Let’s order takeout and make a night of it?”

“Hmm… alright then,” I agreed.

We continued to talk and unpack the groceries, all the while I was conscious of the hidden paper tucked against my chest.

* * * * *

That evening, we ordered online from our favourite Thai place. While we waited for it to be delivered, I began to set the plates out on the dining table for us.

“Hey, why don’t we eat on the sofa tonight,” Lauren suggested. “We can curl up and get ourselves comfy.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” I said, picking the plates up again and walking across the length of the open living space to the lounge.

“I’m just going to go put my PJs on, I’ll be back in a minute,” Lauren said.

I smiled as she turned towards the staircase. I set the plates down on the coffee table, then went back through to the kitchen to find some wine glasses. I’d just started to relax when the doorbell went.

I looked towards the stairs, but there was no sign of Lauren. I tried calling out, my feminine voice echoing, but there was no response. I went over to the staircase, peering upwards. The bell rang again.

“Shit…” I muttered, and began to hurry towards the door, my arms swinging out a little wider at my sides.

I stood frozen at the door, just as I had before my little expedition earlier. Except now it was the evening, and out there in the darkness was some random guy. I knew all I had to do was take the food and say thank you, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I was going to be seen and judged… maybe even found out as the imposter that I was.

I turned the latch and opened the door.

“Good evening! I’ve got a delivery for Mrs. Carter?” the young woman asked, cheerily. The lights of her moped shone from the driveway behind her. She held her helmet in one hand and the bag of food in the other.

I felt the tension suddenly leave my body. I let out a breath.

“Yes, that’s… us,” I said.

The delivery driver didn’t look me up and down. She didn’t second guess me. She simply handed me the bag.

“Thank you,” I said, and we both stood there for a moment. “Oh, sorry!” Although we’d paid online, I remembered I still needed to tip her. My coat was hanging up next to the door, so I reached into the pocket to find my wallet.

“Thank you ma’am,” she said, taking the notes from me. “Have a great evening.”

“You too,” I said a moment too late, as she was already turning away.

* * * * *

I walked slowly back to the kitchen and placed the bag of food onto the counter. I stared straight ahead, towards the ceiling-height windows. The darkness outside made it look like my reflection was suspended above the lake. I saw a blonde woman in a teal top and black leggings. I saw what she had seen. I saw... me.

“Sorry honey, I heard the doorbell but I was still getting changed,” Lauren said as she came down the stairs. As I looked up, I recognised the soft blue pyjamas she wore. I’d worn them myself a few days ago.

“Hey – you okay?” Lauren asked, walking over, her hand coming to rest on the small of my back.

“Yeah...” I said, pushing hair behind my ear, “just hungry.”

Lauren rubbed my back softly. “Why don’t you get into something cosy while I dish up?”

I glanced at her and nodded. I went upstairs and changed into my peach-coloured pyjama shorts and t-shirt. It felt nice to be in something more loose-fitting - and especially to be out of my bra. By the end of the day it would outstay its welcome – the support outweighed by the restriction.

When I came back down, I saw that Lauren had arranged the food containers on the coffee table.

“Hey - do you want to grab the corkscrew on your way over?” Lauren said, looking up.

“Oh, sure,” I said, heading over to the kitchen area and fetching it from the drawer.

Lauren sat down on the sofa, tucking her legs under her. I opened the wine and poured us both a glass. I sat beside her, with my knees together.

“Cheers,” Lauren said, clinking her glass to mine.

“Cheers,” I said, sipping at the wine. The sweet tang of the red brought with it an unexpected wave of nostalgia. For this. For doing the sorts of things that we normally did. I ran my tongue over my lip, savouring it. I piled my plate high with the Thai food, the enticing aromas making my stomach rumble.

“So did you want to talk about anything?” Lauren said carefully as she began to eat. “How you’re feeling… Anything from yesterday?”

“No,” I said quickly. “I mean… I’d just rather forget for tonight,” I added.

Lauren nodded and made a zipping motion across her mouth.

“I didn’t mean don’t talk at all!” I rolled my eyes.

“Alright, alright!” Lauren covered her mouth as she chewed and swallowed. “Hey, sorry I was gone a while this afternoon. I ran into Bea, and well, you know she likes to talk.”

“Who?” I asked, sipping at my wine.

“Seriously?“ Lauren put her fork down. “We’ve spoken to her loads! Well, I have.”

“Oh - wait… that old woman?”

“Her name is Bea,” Lauren said, giving me a look. “Actually, she asked where you were.”

“Wh-what did you say?”

Lauren paused and took a big sip of wine. “I said you’d been turned into a girl, and were too shy to come out.”

“Shut up, you didn’t!” I grabbed a cushion from the sofa and gave Lauren a whack on the arm with it.

“Careful, you’ll spill my wine!” Lauren held her glass high.

We ate our food, the wine was topped up, and the laughter came more freely. I set my plate aside on the coffee table and tucked my legs up under me on the sofa, just as Lauren had done.

“You barely made a dent,” Lauren said as she set her own plate down. “Usually you eat half of mine as well!”

“I can’t, I feel so full,” I said, placing a hand on my stomach through the thin fabric of my pyjama top.

“We don’t seem to be having a problem getting through the wine!” Lauren giggled.

“I know, I feel a little giddy already, I’ve only had... err..."

Lauren smiled and held up two fingers. She glanced down at my legs. “Hey, did you shave them this morning?” she asked, reaching across to slide a hand over my bare thigh. “Oh! They’re so smooth!”

I swatted her hand away. “Get off!”

“They feel good though, right?” Lauren ran a hand against her own leg. “I should do mine tomorrow. There’s no nicer feeling – well, unless you add a silky pair of stockings.”

“So that’s why you like wearing them,” I said.

Lauren looked at me, her head resting against her crooked arm. “Actually… I like wearing them because I know you can’t resist me in them...”

I let out a self-conscious giggle and went to take a sip from my glass. It was empty.

“Hey, let’s play a game,” Lauren said, shifting round more in her seat to look at me. “Say you’d been born a girl, what name do you think you would have?”

“Lauren…” I groaned, letting my head rest back against the sofa cushion.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Uh… okay…” I paused, a smile spreading across my face. “Gladys!”

Lauren nearly spit her wine out. “Ha-ha! Oh wait, how about… Ethel?”

“Petunia!”

We creased up laughing. For a moment, I became more aware of my higher-pitched voice. There was a levity and a joy to it that I’d not heard till now. I wondered if Lauren had noticed as well.

“Seriously though, there’s not really a female version of ‘Scott’ is there?” Lauren said, still thinking about it. “I reckon it would still be an ‘S’ name – Scarlett… Sophie… or how about Susie?”

The laughter faded, leaving a brief silence between us. I cleared my throat. “Anyway… what about you? If you’d been a boy? - I reckon… Larry!”

“Leonard!” she laughed.

“Lester!”

I watched Lauren’s face light up with her smile and laughter. "Come on, let's get cleaned up," she said. As I stood, I felt just a little light-headed from the wine.

* * * * *

Once we’d cleaned and loaded the dishwasher, we went upstairs to get ready for bed. Lauren pulled back the bed covers and slid in. I’d left my clothing on the floor earlier, so I picked it up to put it in the washing basket. It was then that I noticed the folded Axis questionnaire lying on the floor. I glanced up, checking to see if Lauren was watching me. I scooped it up quickly and slipped it into my bedside drawer.

“Here, I got a second moisturiser today, so you can keep it on your side of the bed,” Lauren said handing me a small tube.

“Oh, thanks, that was thoughtful,” I said, taking it and turning it over in my hands for a second.
I slid into bed beside her – Lauren in her pale blue pyjamas, me in my peach set – as we began to moisturise. Once we’d finished, we both reached for our bedside lamps. “Good night, Lauren,” I said, smiling.

“Good night, honey,” she said, turning to me and giving me a quick kiss.

On the lips.

The lamps went out and the bedroom disappeared into darkness. I felt Lauren roll away from me onto her side.

I lay there and reached up, absently feeling my lips with a finger. Had she meant to do that? And if so, what did it mean? Maybe she just… forgot herself because of the wine.
I found it hard to fall asleep after that. My head still buzzed from the alcohol as my mind replayed moments from the evening.

But it had been nice though, hadn’t it? Who was I kidding, it had been the best evening we’d spent together since I’d become a woman.

I shifted under the covers, still unable to get comfortable, my hand resting lightly on my stomach. I could almost feel the presence of the hidden note in my bedside drawer.

Slowly, without even thinking, my hand drifted to just past my navel. It lingered as I stared into the darkness through the skylight above me.

My fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my pyjama shorts, meeting my soft hairs before moving lower. I’d been so fixated on what I had lost down there, but now… here in the darkness… I felt what was different.

My hand slid across it.

Fleshy… soft…

I pulled my hand back and breathed in, realising I had been holding my breath. I curled onto my side and pulled the covers around me, feeling even more unsettled.

* * * * *

CONTINUE TO DAY SEVEN