“So, what shall we call you? Andrea?”
The girl shook her head, and her golden curls swished as she did so.
“I think Amber is a nice name.”
“Okay, then Amber it is. But you need to remember who you really are.”
“Why?”
“The world doesn’t like people to be different. It is not possible to be a girl one minute and a boy the next. You have to be one or the other.”
“Why?”
Jenny opened her mind up to the confused child, and allowed her to see the strange world grown-ups had created and the rules that allocated people into categories, regardless if they fitted or not.
“That is silly. What happens if you want to be a girl, and you have a boy’s body, won’t you be unhappy?”
“Then you have to live as a boy. There are many people who are like that, and you are right, they are very unhappy.”
“So if I want to stay a girl, what happens?”
“Well, officially you are on record as being born a boy. So either we have to get a new record made, or we get you registered as a different person,” Jenny said, guessing.
Amber frowned.
“How do we do that?”
“Well, there are lots of people coming here from abroad, and their records have been lost and so new ones have to be made. I have a friend who works in a registrar’s office. I could ask her, I suppose.”
Amber sat serenely on the bare boards of the attic. Jenny was suddenly aware of the nature of the conversation, and realised the complex and very adult context of their discussion.
The little girl smiled at her.
“Oh, until we get organised I shall be Andrew, because Granny wouldn’t like me to be Amber. I would remind her of my mummy, and that would hurt her. I don’t want her to be hurt. So perhaps I shouldn’t stay like this for a while,” she said.
Jenny was astounded at how bright and intelligent this child was. No seven year-old would normally have so much of an idea of consequences as this.
The she took off the dress and returned to being Andrew.
“I don’t like this nearly as much. But I do understand that people can get very silly,” he said.
“There are so many people who would sell their souls to be able to do what you can do,” Jenny said.
“Best we don’t tell them,” Andrew said, with a little smile.
CHAPTER THREE.
Andrew returned to his studies and, over the next few weeks, the subject was never mentioned again. Jenny knew that he would not forget the incident. Jenny’s main worry was that he would never be able to relate to others if he did not actually mix with children of his own age.
Jenny’s friend in the registrar’s office was having a nightmare at work, as many British families were returning from all parts of the world, and were missing vital documentation. So much so, that the registration department at the Home Office were taking on more staff in several cities all over the country. Lots of people were also leaving in droves for other commonwealth countries to carve new lives for themselves, in places such as Australia and Canada. The requirement for passports and covering documentation was becoming a real challenge for the belaboured staff.
Jenny applied for a temporary position in the Oxford Office, and found herself doing three afternoons a week trying to clear the backlog. Many service families were returning and, for whatever reason, their children had not been registered with British Consulates or records had been lost because of the war.
It was no difficulty for Jenny to make out a birth certificate in the name of Amber Jane Hutchins, with herself as a young unmarried mother and an unknown father, with Andrew’s date of birth, located in Singapore. She put it in a batch of one hundred others, so it was duly signed and certified.
With her heart pounding, she realised that she had just created a completely new person. This was not like her, as it was completely illegal. She also knew that a certain person should have the benefit of having the option of being Andrew or Amber.
She returned to teach Andrew, but actually found the child was teaching himself. His level was far beyond most primary children, and she knew that her own knowledge and skills were now being tested to the limit, even though he was only eight.
She confronted Rhona about it.
“Rhona, the time has come to put Andrew into a proper school. His academic level is beyond my ability, and it is essential he learns to socialise with other children.”
Rhona had nodded.
“I think I realise that. And actually, I am in a position to do something about it. The investments that Geoffrey has made are sufficient for me to send him to a small prep school. I know it is boarding, but as you say, he must learn to be with people his age. I am not going to be around forever, and I can’t expect you to give up your life for someone else’s child.”
“Oh, Rhona, I couldn’t love him any more even had he been mine, but he needs to live in the real world. But you do know it is not quite as simple as you think?”
“Why?”
“Well, for a start, I think your grandson is more a granddaughter. You do know he spends every night as a girl, don’t you?”
Rhona did, but her expression showed Jenny that she was also partly in denial about it.
Jenny clearly spelled out what she felt was the best option for Rhona’s grandchild.
“Look, I know Andy is your pride and joy, but you have to let him decide who he wants to live his life as. I have a feeling he will always hover in the middle if you hang onto him as Andrew, but if you allow him to choose to be Amber, something tells me you will have a much happier child.”
“Oh, God. What should we do?” Rhona asked.
“Rhona, Andy is your responsibility. But as you ask, I think you should let him choose.”
“But he is much too young to know, isn’t he?”
“Rhona, that boy is a lot older and wiser than either of us can guess!”
They agreed to look for a school for him to start in September, but in the meantime, they would try to help him sort out who he was going to be. Jenny sought out the lad, but instead found Amber in the attic, in a green dress this time.
She smiled at the pretty little girl. “Hello, couldn’t resist it then?”
Amber smiled.
“I come here most days. Sometimes I go for walks in the woods, but I am aware that that isn’t always safe. Jenny, is it wrong to want to be a girl?” the girl asked, earnestly wanting to know.
“No. But you have to think through who else might be affected.”
“There is only me and Granny, and she will love me whatever I am.”
“That’s true, but I think she’d prefer you to be Andrew, for your mother’s sake.”
“That’s silly, Mummy isn’t here to care.”
“I know, but sometimes one has to be aware of other’s feelings.”
“I know, that’s what makes it hard for me.”
“I’m sure eventually you’ll be fine. But you know your grandmother and I think you should go away to school?”
“Oh yes, and I think I agree. It will be fun, I think.”
Jenny took out the envelope with a copy of the birth certificate.
“Look. I just want you to know that if you ever do decide to change. You can be official.”
“I know. I have known ever since you did it.”
Jenny smiled.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I realised the risk you took; and the fact that you put yourself down as my mother.”
“I had to think quickly.”
“I don’t mind. In fact, I think you have been more of a mother to me than anyone,” Amber said, coming over and hugging her.
“You need to decide whether to try to be Andrew, for the immediate future, at least. Boys do get more opportunities than girls.”