Chapter 1

I stood in the little kiosk and looked out towards the other shops, wondering how my life had narrowed down to such a bleak outlook. It was a Tuesday morning, and I had just opened up. I hadn’t seen a single shopper yet. It was half past nine on a cold November day, so I hadn’t really expected anything else.

Today was my birthday and I was turning twenty. Mum had told me that she would come by as I was closing the kiosk and take me to a meal at Wildwoods. It was a nice gesture, but still couldn’t pierce the feeling of utter uselessness that enveloped me.

My name is Harold Edwin Sharpe, known as Hairy Harry to my schoolfriends. My mother is Maureen, and now in her late thirties. My father, Ted, had been a printer and had gone off to London to attend a job interview when I was still a baby. He had been five years older than Mum. That was in the summer of 2005, and he was unfortunate to have been on an underground train when a bomb exploded near him. Mum had received an insurance payout as well as some other compensation, but it didn’t bring him back.

We still lived in the house that he had left from, on Clockhouse Way, Braintree, Essex. It was, by any standards a box by the side of a narrow road, built to a price rather than any style. There was no front garden, merely a paved parking space, but the back garden was long with trees at the end of it. My cycles lived in the small garage with the car staying out the front. Not that we used it much, mainly for shopping.

Dad had worked at the local printers which was within walking distance. The manager there had a friend who ran a plastic injection moulding business who had need of a secretary. A few months after we had lost my father Mum had gone back to work in the office there. I was looked after during the days until I went to school by my granny, now gone.

Mum and I lived frugally and were able to treat ourselves occasionally. The car was old, but we kept it in good condition. My biggest treat from my wages had been my racing bike. That stayed in the garage, and I would ride my mountain bike to work. That had been a Christmas present from my Auntie Dolly and Uncle Bill, my mothers’ brother. They had an ulterior motive, as the day I received it Uncle Bill also offered me a job in the Fast Fix Kiosk as soon as I left school.

I worked from Friday to Tuesday, so would be off for the next two days. Wednesday morning, I would join the Easy Riders on the social ride. I would have to be the youngest one in the group, as most were in their seventies, and I usually rode the mountain bike and would be there when we arrived anywhere that there were stairs, so I could assist the less agile. In a push to keep fit, I swam at the local pool, just a stroll from my workplace, in a social group made up of fellow workers. We called ourselves the Freeport Flounders.

The kiosk where I spent my working days was in the Braintree Freeport Village, a large market-style group of shops and clearance outlets. The kiosk wasn’t large, but big enough for a workbench, a couple of boot lasts, a buffing wheel and a key cutting grinder. We offered shoe repairs, boot laces, replacement keys and engraving on things that you may have bought at one of the outlets. Uncle Bill would look after it on my days off. I had become quite adept at soling and heeling, as well as able to write legibly with the engraving pen over the three years that I had worked here. It was deadly boring on some days.

On cold days like today, I was happy with my warm woolly hat with its Fast Fix logo. For me, it was a necessary item, as I was totally bald all over. I was born with alopecia universalis, possibly genetic, as my Granny thought that there had been an ancestor that had been hairless. Of course, this was the reason I got the nickname of Hairy Harry at school. It did have advantages, though, as I spent nothing at the barber, and I never needed to shave my limbs for swimming or cycling.

Keeping fit was a sort of mantra for me. I’d always been lean and lanky, and now stood a couple of inches shy of six feet. I had been a good runner in school, as well as a good swimmer. Whenever Mum wanted to make fun of me, she would call me her autumn sapling, tall and leafless.

Over the course of the day, I did some new sole and heel jobs, and spent some hours engraving a box full of stainless-steel napkin rings, bought for a wedding reception as keepsakes for the guests. It allowed me to sit towards the back of the kiosk, on the stool next to the workbench, with my single-bar heater.

I closed the kiosk at half past five, leaving a note of the sales next to the card reader. Hardly anyone used cash in these days, so I didn’t have to do any banking. Mum arrived as I was locking the shutter and side door, and we went to Wildwood. I still felt that something felt wrong, and I told her so.

“Harry, love. It’s usual for a lad of your age to start feeling like that. Many have got girlfriends, some are married. You’ve never bought a girl home, and you should be doing more with those the same age. That group you ride with are mostly forty years older than me. Can’t you find a group your own age?”

“I’ve been out with a few girls, Mum. I was petrified the whole time that I would do or say something wrong. I never went with the same one twice. Some of my mates act like louts and have steady girls but I can’t do that. It’s not in me.”

“That’s why you’re so good with the older folks. If you were a girl, you would have probably gone into nursing. But you’re not a girl, and nursing these days takes a few more qualifications than you have.”

“I know. I just can’t see me working for Uncle Bill for all my life.”

“He can’t, either. I expect that he’ll train up a new junior once you turn twenty-one, so you had better start thinking about what you’re going to do next.”

“I’ve got no secret powers, Mum. What on earth can I do?”

“You have something that a lot don’t have, love. You’re able to work steadily. You turn up every day. You have good skills in what you do in that kiosk, and you didn’t take long to pick them up. Bill has been happy with you, so ask him what else there is around.”

“I’ll start thinking about it Mum. I don’t want to go off and leave you on your own, though. If I leave home, you may not be able to keep the house.”

“Harry, sweet boy. I have a couple of guys that I work with who have asked me out. I’ve held back, but I may start dating again. I really wouldn’t mind moving out of that box we live in, some day. I still have feelings that I could make a man a good wife. It’s been too long since your father died, and I’ve stopped grieving for him. I haven’t forgotten him, but I’m at the stage where another man could replace him in my heart.”

“Wow, Mum. That’s deep. I never really knew him, so I don’t feel much one way or the other, so my problems lie within me. I’ll just have to apply myself to finding out what else I can do. Today, I felt so incredibly lost for a while. You’re so right. I need to start being a new me.”

“I’m proud of you, my son.”

“Be proud of me when I find my calling, Mum. Now, what are we having for dessert?”

The next day, I rugged up and went to meet the other riders. As usual, it was a quiet ride around the countryside and we stopped at our usual place, the Green Dragon on the old London Road. I sat with a few of the regulars and asked one that I had spoken to before, if he had any suggestions about what I should be doing with my life.

“You’re a bright lad, Harry. I’ve seen you working in the Village. You have a good work ethic, along with the ability to talk with us old farts. Something working with people will suit you.”

“But not those my own age, Jeff. I get tongue-tied when I talk to girls, and most new kids I meet think that I’m a freak.”

“Look around you, lad. Most of us have ailments that limit what we can do, or how much we can do before we get tired. We’ve all been young and fit like yourself but now have to live within the boundaries that our age has set for us. You’re still young and very fit, lad, and the only thing about your lack of hair that’s holding you back is in your mind. It could even be an advantage. You could make a male model, seeing that you would be anyone that an artist could paint you as.”

“What, wear make-up!”

“Why not. Half the world use it to make themselves look better. Go and talk to the salon ladies in the Village. They may know about people who are looking for someone new in that business.”

“There are a few of the girls that swim in the evening. I’ll talk to Sally this evening, at the pool. She’s usually quite friendly.”

After lunch, the group rode back into Braintree, and I went home for a while. Around closing time in the Village, I rode to the swimming pool with my swimming gear. We didn’t swim competitively, so gauging how good we were was just against each other. I was sitting with some of the others after our workout and spoke to Sally. I knew she worked in the salon. It took some effort to look at her and speak.

“Sally, I was told yesterday, that I don’t have that much longer working in the Fast Fix Kiosk. I need to find something else to work at. One of the Easy Riders suggested I go and talk to someone in the salon about working as a male model. I’m not sure there would be anyone who would want to photograph me, no matter how much work had been done.”

“Harry, you can only ask. Janice is always looking for something new to promote the salon, and I’m sure that she has friends in the business, seeing that she was a model herself for twenty years. You’re off tomorrow, so why don’t you pop in, around lunch time, when we’re not busy. I’ll tell her that you’re coming, shall I?”

“Thanks, Sally. I was told, this morning that I was good with people, but speaking to you made me worried that I’d be laughed at.”

“Harry, nobody laughs at others who are as kind and gentle as you are. The girls have talked about you. Some think that you may be gay, but you don’t seem to mix with other guys either.”

“I’ve always been a bit of a loner, seeing that many look at me and wonder if my lack of hair is from a personal desire, rather than something I was born with. Some of the bullies at school considered me a freak.”

“Harry, you are a freak. You are quiet, kind, and a steady worker. That makes you stand out from the others. There are a lot of the outlets who would give you a job with those qualities. Having no hair isn’t the end of the world, it’s really a blank slate that could be turned into something wonderful.”

“That’s what Jeff said, this morning. The idea of getting my face painted frightens me.”

“You wouldn’t need much, Harry. We have male wigs in the shop. One of them and some stick-on eyebrows and you’d look like any other guy around.”

“I’m not sure that I would have the nerve to go in the salon.”

“Look, I’ll talk to Janice in the morning. If you go to BB’s for lunch, I’ll see if she’ll meet you there and talk to you. It might be easier for you if she does want you to try something. She can lead you in. There’s a room out the back where she has a digital camera. We often do before and after pictures, especially for brides.”

When I got home, I helped Mum make us some dinner and clean up afterwards. I told her what I would be doing on Thursday, and she told me that if any pictures were taken she wanted to see them, so I’d better make certain I asked for copies.

On Thursday morning, I spent some time in the garage, making sure my racing bike was in top-notch state. It wasn’t an expensive one, and I had added the double sprocket and shifter at the front at a later date. It had a water bottle in a mount on the front down tube, and I had adapted the cage on the tube under the seat to take a container that had previously been holding bulk bleaching powder with a screw top. I had collected a few of these, and they held a range of small tools. The one that I usually took with me held one of those pressure bottles that will seal a hole in the tube and re-inflate the tyre.

I gave it a final wipe with the cloth and took the mountain bike to the Village. I was sitting in BB’s with a burger when a woman stood in front of me.

“Harry Sharpe, I believe. If you don’t mind, I’ll have this sandwich while we talk. I’m Janice. Sally has spoken to me this morning, and I’m intrigued. Do you want to be a male model?”

“I’m not sure that I know what it entails, Janice. I found out yesterday that I’m likely to be out of a job by the time I reach twenty-one, so I’ve been told to find something else I can do.”

“I understand your problem. I have the same trouble. I take on school leavers and train them up. By the time they have to be paid full adult wages, they have to be able to earn enough to cover their position. Your Uncle would be skating on thin ice with that kiosk. He can only keep it in the black if he minimises his costs.”

“I understand that, but it wasn’t something that had come up before.”

“When we finish lunch, Harry, I’ll take you to the salon and show you that you have something that will make you very employable. I’ll do a before shot with you in a different top, and then we’ll do after shots with different looks. I’ve got friends in the business. If you allow me, I’ll send them the pictures to see what they think. To start with, you have a lot going for you with your height and that slim body.”

We ate our lunches, with her asking me about my family and upbringing. When we finished, I took the tray of rubbish to the bin and then we went to the toilets to wash our hands. I waited outside until she came out and she led me to the salon. At the door she opened it and strode in, with me sucked along in her wake. Sally smiled as we came in and then we went through to the rear rooms.

“All right, Harry. The room on the right is a small studio, where we’ll do the before shot. Then we take you next door. It’s usually a room where we remove body hair with wax. Your mother will know all about that, and you can consider yourself lucky that you’ll never have to undergo that treatment. Take your shirt off and I’ll get one that will look good in the after picture.”

She went to a rack and pulled down a tee-shirt on a hanger. It was in a softer fabric than I had worn, and the neck was more scooped than it should be.

“This is a girls top.”

“Quite right. It has a neckline that will allow us to see your head as separate from your shoulders. It’s what will show how different we can make you. Now, stand in front of the screen and don’t smile.”

She took several pictures of me with my head straight ahead, to each side, and then repeated with a smile. After that, I went to the other room and sat in a chair. I had a covering put over me, tied at the neck. Janice went out and Sally came in.

“The boss thought that you would be happier with me working on you, Harry. Now, this first one won’t take long. Sit back, relax, and enjoy.”

She worked on my face with lotions and creams until it tingled. She showed me the wipes, and I was amazed at how dark they had become. Then, she simply used a dark pencil to give me eyebrows and put a short wig on me. Back in front of the camera, we repeated the photos with Janice transferring them to her laptop. When she showed me them, I was staggered. I looked like every other guy in the street, but now with a good complexion.

We went back to the chair, where Sally removed the wig and cleaned my brows. The next part took longer, as she used a glue to give me proper eyebrows, and then did the same with a pair of lashes. The wig was a bit longer and a vibrant blonde. When the pictures came up on the computer screen, I looked like a member of a boy band.

When I was back in the chair again. Sally smiled.

“Harry, this next look will be the last for today. Janice whispered that she’s already seen enough, but she wants to see what you look like with the full make-over.”

She removed the wig but left the brows and lashes, then proceeded to rub a cream over my face, followed by a brush with something powdery.

“Purse your lips for me and then we’ll add another wig.”

She painted something on my lips and then added the biggest wig yet. It was auburn and went past my shoulders. She did something around my eyes with a brush and I was led out to stand in front of the screen again. As I moved, the hair swirled around, a really strange experience that I had never known before. When the pictures had been taken, Janice put her hand on my shoulder.

“Harry. I’m really excited by what we’ve achieved today. There is one other picture I want to take, but it will take you somewhere that you have never been. If you agree, I want you to take off your shoes and socks, drop your trousers and put on this dress. It’s called a shirtwaister, and you just slip it on like a shirt and then button up the front. Please do this and I’m certain that there’ll be someone wanting to talk to you later. If nothing else, it will give you a feeling of what every girl feels when she puts on a dress. I promise that the pictures will be between us and my friend, who I’ll make promise that she never shows them to anyone else unless you agree. Do you have an email address?”

“I do.”

“Then, write it here and both Sally and I will leave the room while you change. We’ll only be outside, so call when you’re ready.”

They left and I stood there for a few moments, making up my mind. In the end, I sat down, took off my shoes and socks, and then dropped my trousers. The dress was as easy as she said. I put my arms through the holes and then lined up the big buttons with the buttonholes and did them up. I called out and they came back in, looking as if they were trying hard not to smile.

“I know, I look a proper idiot. Let’s take the pictures and return me to my normal freakiness.”

“We’re not smiling because of that, Harry. We’re smiling because, without having to do anything else, you look like a lovely young lady. You wait until I show you the pictures.”

Janice took more pictures, moving back with the camera so that she could get my full height in. Sally helped me get the poses she wanted and moved back as the pictures were taken. The first thing that Sally did was to undo a few buttons that I had taken so much care with. When it was over, I carried my clothes to the other room. I took off the dress and put on my trousers again while Sally was out of the room. She told me to leave the top on until she had cleaned my face, so I was half and half again when she came back.

I was in the chair for quite a while as she removed the wig and used solvent on the brows and lashes to remove those. Then she thoroughly cleaned my face and lips before I took off the top and got my own shirt back on. I put my socks and shoes on and stood up, totally taken by surprise when Sally hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.

“Today, Harry, you showed me another side of you. It’s the brave you and one that you’ve been suppressing for a very long time. I’ll ask Janice if I can time my lunches with yours and we can meet at BB’s. That is, of course, if you want to.”

“I would love that, Sally. Thank you for looking out for me and working on me. It must be odd to be working on a guy.”

“Not as odd as you would think. We do wax on a lot of guys, many that ride bikes or swim competitively. We also have another salon in the city, where we do what we did with you today for special occasions. I worked on a couple of guys during summer who were getting married, and both wanted to do it in a wedding dress. They looked adorable in the photos.”

It was only as I was leaving that I saw the lip marks on my cheek in a mirror. Sally grinned as she wiped my cheek with a tissue. I walked out of the salon as if I was walking on air. It didn’t matter what happened about the pictures, I had spent a few hours in the company of a girl my own age and hadn’t felt scared or worried that I would say the wrong thing. She had seen me in a dress, made-up and in a wig, yet still wanted to meet me for lunch.

That evening, after our evening meal, I opened up my laptop and accessed the email that Janice had sent. Mum was totally blown away with all the versions of me. Sitting in our kitchen, away from the sounds and smells of the salon, the pictures showed a person who looked nothing like me at all.

The final set, with me in the dress and posed, made Mum stand up and pull me to my feet in a huge hug.

“That, my son, has made me so proud of you. It must have taken a lot of courage to allow them to pose and photograph you. Those last ones could have been from a fashion magazine.”

I saved the pictures to a special file and went off to bed. As I laid there trying to sleep, I knew that it wasn’t courage that I had exhibited. It was trust in a girl my age, who had spent the afternoon making me look wonderful, and all without any feeling that she was doing anything that she wasn’t happy with. If Sally was happy, I was happy. I fell asleep smiling.

Marianne Gregory © 2026