Peter and filtered to the lounge, leaving our mother and Mrs Brown alone. She-Beebies was still on and neither of us dare change the channel. “Why is she here?” Peter asked.
“Dunno.” I gulped. “But I reckon if we don’t do as were told, everybody at school will know.”
“I think they’re bluffing about us going to school dressed as girls,” Peter whispered.
“But we already have the girl’s uniform… and even if we don’t wear them, mum has that photograph she took for Granny.”
Half an hour or so later, mum told us it was ‘bath time’. I followed mum up the stairs. Peter followed me and Mrs Brown followed him. Our teacher gushed over how nice our new bedroom is and how lucky we were. Neither of us dares offer our honest opinion. First, I unbuttoned Peter’s dress, then he undid mine. Stripping down to our pink knickers in front of our teacher was a shameful task, but nowhere near as shameful as the prospect of going to school dressed as girls would be. In the bathroom, Mum scrubbed me whilst Mrs Brown scrubbed Peter, and once out of the bath, mum gave us a fluffy pad each so we could apply our own talcum powder… and each other!
We kept our bits covered with our hands as we trotted back to our bedroom. Mum and Mrs Brown followed. “You don’t have to watch us get ready for bed,” I said as they loitered.
“Oh, but we do Paul,” Mum replied. “Come on, everything should be under your pillows.”
“Do I have to wear this?” Peter sulked.
“Of course you do,” Mum replied.
“All petticoated boys wear nappies for bed.” Mrs Brown added. “And some of them wear them for school too… if they’re very naughty.”