“That’s not such a bad idea. We must also speak to your headmaster, and see what we can do about your assignments and exams. This couldn’t have come at a worse time, love!”
“I know, and now so many of the sixth form have seen me and believe me to be Swedish, it is so complicated!”
“So many?”
“Half a dozen.”
“That’s not so many.”
“It is. I know for a fact that one boy already fancies me!”
“Oh dear, you are a ninny. Why couldn’t you just have been gay?” her mother said. Neither laughed very much.
That evening, the family discussed the matter around the dinner table. Mike didn’t help, he kept chuckling, and Jake found it annoying.
“Michael, if you can’t be constructive, shut up!” he said.
“But Dad, the answer is standing in front of you. Kayla can stay with Gran. Gran can teach her Swedish, and we can say that Kyle has swapped, like an exchange or something. Kayla can keep pretending to be Swedish, and no one will be any the wiser. Once school is out the way, whatever happens can be dealt with accordingly,” Mike said.
Jake was about to come back with a retort, when Rebecca said, “You know, that’s not a bad idea. We need time to let everyone know what is going on, and that would make sense. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for Kayla to learn Swedish, in any case. I’m fed up of being the only one who speaks the language every time we go and stay with relatives.”
“Becca, you can’t expect the child to keep up such a deception for so long!” her husband said.
“Daddy, I’m not a child! I actually think it would be a good idea. Would Gran be willing to go along with it?” Kayla said.
“She’d love it. She loves things like that. I’ll give her a ring, and if she’s in, we could pop round after supper and introduce you to her.”
“Oh, come on Mum, she’s known me all my life,” Kayla said.
“Kayla, take a look in a mirror. She has only known Kyle. You really are very different, you know?” her brother said.
“Oh, I suppose so. I keep forgetting,” Kayla said, with a grin.
Rebecca picked up the cordless phone, punching the pre-keyed number for her mother.
Kayla went up to her room and sat on her bed. Everything was just going too fast. Events were overtaking her and she hadn’t yet had time to take stock of what was really happening.
She rested her head in her hands, and tried to make her racing brain slow down. She thought that her body said she was a boy, and now her brain and a doctor insisted she was a girl. Her whole being screamed ‘girl’ at her. It was as if the entity called Kyle had somehow suddenly ceased to exist!
“Hey, are you okay?”
She looked up to see Mike standing in the doorway.
“I don’t know, Mike. Who the hell am I?”
He smiled and walked in, sitting next to her on the bed.
“Who do you want to be?”
“I just want to be me, but I’m not sure who that is.”
“Well, if appearances are anything to go by, you’re Kayla, my little sister,” he said, and she smiled at him. He could see that tears weren’t far away.
“It’s so confusing. I really don’t know who I am any more. This only started a couple of days ago, and I didn’t ever think this would happen.”
“So, why did you do it?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve had this overwhelming feeling that I’ve been a girl for ages. So much so that the feelings are with me every waking moment of every day. I was starting to feel so down, I guess I had depression of a sort.”
Mike sat there, frowning.
“Well, say something?” she said.
“What can I say? This is going to take careful handling, if you want to avoid press and scandal. The papers would have a field day, as you really are very pretty.”
Kayla blushed, and once more Mike had difficulty reconciling Kyle with this girl.
Rebecca called her from down stairs.
“Come on, love, Mama wants to see you now.”
“What did you tell her?” Kayla asked.
“Oh, this and that,” her mother said evasively.
“Oh, come on. Did you explain what’s happening?”
“Sort of. Actually, I think she guessed.”
They walked up the road together. Ingrid Clarke lived twelve houses up on the other side of the road. Her late husband, Richard Clarke, had been a doctor in the town, having brought his bride here all those years ago. Rebecca had been brought up here, and had attended St. Helens Girls School.
Jake had been only too happy to allow his wife to return to her roots so as to be close to her mother. Jake’s parents had died some years before, so this was all the family he had now.
Ingrid was in her eighties, and yet was still a strikingly handsome woman. Her complexion was wonderfully clear and helped her look much younger than her age. Her white hair had not really altered much, from white blonde to white, still meant she looked very similar from one year to the next.
She opened the front door to the pair, and before anyone could say anything, she simply hugged her new granddaughter,
When she allowed Kayla to breath, she stroked her cheek, saying, “I knew it all along. Ever since I first saw you, I knew you were a girl. I am so happy for you, now we just get you sorted out good and proper.”
Her Swedish accent was still discernable, despite living in England for nearly fifty years.
They sat down in the sitting room and went over the situation. As predicted, Ingrid thought the idea of having a Swedish Great-niece coming to stay was a capital one, so she simply took over the planning of the whole operation.
She got out several books, including a Swedish-English dictionary.
“I can’t wait. Now, you go home and get packed. I will make your room up, and we start tonight. As from ten o’clock, we have no English in this house. This will be such fun!”
Kayla was swept along; such was her grandmother’s enthusiasm. Rebecca found herself powerless to intervene and, before they knew it, Kayla had packed her few meagre clothes, with some cast-offs from her mother, and was back at Ingrid’s house.
Ingrid helped her unpack and was distressed at how few clothes she had.
“Ah, then on Saturday, we go shopping. I buy my pretty granddaughter some nice clothes. But first, we learn some Swedish. If you are to be Kayla Olsen, then you will have to sound the part!”
Kayla actually knew a bit of Swedish, as the family had spent many happy summers on holiday with the extended family at their holiday cabin in Sweden, by a lake. Ingrid launched into her fluent Swedish, keeping her promise never to speak English in front of Kayla again.
When she went to bed that night, her mind was reeling with everything that had happened. She was just dozing off when her mobile rang.
“Hi, Kyle, wazzup?” It was Ricky.
“Oh, hi Ricky. Not a lot,” Kayla lied.
“Hey, I had a thought about those two wankers.”
“Oh yeah?”
“If we drugged them, we could dress one of them up as a girl, and then take photographs of them in bed together.”
“Ricky, that’s inane. Anyway, I might not be here for the rest of term,” Kayla said.
“How come?”
“My cousin’s over from Sweden, so I may have an opportunity to go over there on exchange.”
That’s cool! All those blonde babes. Is your cousin fit?”
Kayla smiled as she glanced into the mirror.
“You’ll have to make up your own mind about that.”
“So, when do you go?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe tomorrow. I’ll have to see.”
“Shit, you can’t go. Who the hell can I muck about with now?” Ricky asked, worried now that his only close friend was leaving him alone.
“You’ll be all right. Look, I have to go, I am up early tomorrow.”
“Okay, let me know what’s happening when you know.”