Chapter 11 #2
Looking at Tanya’s stricken expression, SJ didn’t know how she’d ever wanted to laugh at all. She was such a bitch. She certainly wouldn’t have found it amusing if Tanya had laughed about her drinking.
‘At least you’re not shocked,’ Tanya said in a quiet blank voice. ‘I suppose that’s something.’
‘No, I’m not. I’m intrigued.’ SJ delved around in her memory bank for something more helpful to say.
She had no first-hand experience of cross-dressing – it was probably one of the last taboos.
If you were a drug addict or an overeater, or if you were into spanking or wife swapping, you could probably raise the subject with your closest friends over a drunken dinner party without too much fear of being shunned, but cross-dressing was still a pretty tricky subject to bring up in polite conversation.
‘Do you think maybe he was trying to get in touch with his feminine side?’ she asked slowly. ‘I mean, Michael’s always been very sensitive, hasn’t he? The kind of man who doesn’t mind discussing his emotions. Not a bit like Tom, who’d rather chew off his own arm than tell you how he feels.’
To her dismay, far from being reassured by her words, Tanya put her head in her hands and sobbed.
Noisy, abandoned sobs that were so out of control and so unlike Tanya that SJ was horrified.
Wanting to cry with her, but doubting this would be very much help, she edged along the tree trunk and put her arm awkwardly around her friend’s shaking shoulders.
Why was it so difficult to touch when a hug was one of the most basic forms of comfort you could offer?
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged anyone who wasn’t Tom.
Tanya’s hair smelt of coconut shampoo and Classique perfume and fresh air. SJ hoped she didn’t smell too much like an old ashtray, but Tanya didn’t push her away, just carried on sobbing with her hands over her face.
SJ didn’t say anything else, because there was absolutely nothing she could think of that wouldn’t sound patronising.
Besides, crying was probably the best thing Tanya could do.
She wished she was better prepared. It would have been good if she could have whisked out a nice clean hanky from her bag to offer, but she knew for a fact it was full of bits of tatty old tissues and a few dog biscuits and three cigarette lighters and several Post-its to remind her of things not yet transferred to her diary, which she’d mislaid.
To her immense relief, Tanya stopped crying almost as suddenly as she’d started.
She still looked beautiful – her eyes a little shiny, but no mascara smudges, none of the blotchy skin that afflicted SJ when she bawled her eyes out.
SJ almost envied her – she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a good cry.
‘Feeling better?’
‘Much.’ Tanya managed a glittery smile. ‘Thanks, SJ. I should have told you ages ago. I should have known you’d understand, but I haven’t told anyone. At least no one normal.’
She retrieved a hanky from her own bag, unfolded its pristine white squares and blew her nose loudly. ‘You’re absolutely right, SJ. About Michael getting in touch with his feminine side, I mean. I’m sure that’s exactly what he’s doing.’
‘Me too,’ SJ breathed, relieved to have said something right for a change. ‘What do you mean, you haven’t told anyone normal?’
‘I got in touch with this helpline – I found their number online. And since then I’ve been talking to this girl called Candice in Wales – she recently found out her husband’s a cross-dresser.’
‘Oh, gosh.’ It was a shock realising Tanya had chosen to phone an anonymous helpline rather than confide in her. She hadn’t realised they’d drifted so far apart. But Tanya didn’t seem to notice her silence.
‘Candice caught her husband out, too. Apparently, some of them do actually tell their wives. But most of them don’t because they don’t think we’re going to understand.
They’re scared we might think they want to transition, which usually isn’t the case.
It’s not for Michael. He’s just exploring a fantasy. ’
‘Hmm!’ SJ didn’t like the thought of Tanya pouring out her heart to this Candice person, day after day. It hurt. In some strange way she felt as though she’d lost something precious; something that, up until that point, had been hers alone.
‘What?’ Tanya said.
‘Nothing.’ She knew she was being childish. Rationally she could see exactly why Tanya hadn’t wanted to tell her. ‘So how long ago did you find out?’
‘It was just after Christmas. A freezing cold day in January. Michael had the day off work. Remember that nasty flu virus he had? Well, I’d nipped back home because I’d forgotten something for a meeting. I was in a tearing hurry and I raced upstairs and…’ She hesitated.
‘Go on, love.’
‘Well, he was in bed with the duvet pulled up round his ears, but there was this really odd atmosphere in the room. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first. To be honest I thought he might have been – you know – having a quick…’
‘Wank,’ SJ supplied helpfully.
‘Yes. I could have coped with that. I mean, all men do it, don’t they? But then I noticed my knicker drawer was slightly open. First of all, I thought I’d left it like that. But I knew I hadn’t.’
‘No,’ SJ acknowledged, thinking that, had their positions been reversed, she wouldn’t have noticed an open drawer – but Tanya was Miss Organised. All the clothes in her wardrobe were hung in colour-coordinated rows.
‘And when I went to close it I saw all my stuff was in a mess, like someone had been rummaging through it, and I knew I hadn’t left it like that. And I could smell my Classique scent quite strongly. And I’d left home a couple of hours ago so I knew it wasn’t from when I’d put it on.
‘I went over to Michael and he was still holding the duvet up round his neck like he was hiding something. And he smelt of Classique. He must have put some on himself. He was looking at me really strangely. I pulled the duvet off him – half-messing around like you do – and that’s when I saw he had my bra on.
My expensive white silk one that he’d given me for Christmas. ’
SJ nodded, trying to imagine what she’d feel like if she caught Tom in one of her best bras. She’d probably be more worried about him splitting it than anything else. She didn’t have much decent underwear and Tom was broad-chested.
‘So what did he say?’
‘Nothing at first. He just gave me this stricken glance and then his face kind of crumpled. It was awful, SJ. He burst into tears. I’d never seen him cry before – except at his mum’s funeral, and when we lost Maddie.
’ Her voice fractured and she swallowed hard before she could continue.
‘He was sobbing and sobbing and in between he kept telling me how sorry he was, how he’d been meaning to tell me for ages, but he was scared I’d leave him if he did. ’
‘The poor love.’
‘I know, but I didn’t feel like that at first. The only thing that really registered was that it wasn’t just a one-off. He must have been dressing up in my clothes for ages and I didn’t know. How could he keep something like that from me?’
‘I don’t know,’ SJ said honestly. ‘It must have been a dreadful shock.’
‘Yes, it was. I was so angry with him. I punched him.’
‘Bloody hell. Why?’
‘I’m not sure. But I felt so betrayed. We’ve been married fifteen years.
I thought I knew him inside out. And he looked so pathetic, sitting up in bed, sobbing his heart out with one bra strap hanging over his shoulder.
It was just gut reaction. I knew he was hurting, but I wanted him to hurt more. That’s terrible, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t think it’s terrible. I mean, he could have picked one of your old bras, couldn’t he? Inconsiderate bugger!’
Tanya snorted and gulped and for a moment SJ thought she would cry again, but then she smiled. ‘You always see the funny side of everything, don’t you?’
‘I’m not laughing at you.’
‘No, I know. And actually I can see the funny side now I’ve got used to it. Well, sometimes I can. Other times I just get depressed, but talking to other women in the same situation helps.’
SJ had a sudden vivid image of Michael, his blue-eyed, boyish face, the way his fair hair flopped endearingly over his eyes.
He was the same age as Tom – forty-two, but he could have passed for early thirties, no problem.
She’d always liked him – probably because of what she’d said to Tanya earlier.
Michael was sensitive and gentle and always ready to offer a friendly ear if anyone was upset.
He didn’t gloss over matters of the heart with a joke and a stoical shrug, as Tom tended to.
And he was great on feminine problems too.
Tanya had once told her that Michael had searched the internet for an organic recipe guaranteed to relieve tender breasts triggered by PMT and then he’d made it up for her.
SJ couldn’t imagine Tom doing any such thing. He wouldn’t even buy Tampax – well, not from the chemist. He could manage if he was going to the supermarket and he could slip a box under the frozen peas.
Tanya sighed. ‘I’ve felt a lot better since I got in touch with Candice. She’s been brilliant. We email each other most days and she texts me a lot, too.’
SJ swallowed another little stab of jealousy. ‘And there was me thinking you were having an affair,’ she said, and clapped her hands over her mouth – why couldn’t she remember to engage her brain before speaking?
But Tanya didn’t look upset, just amused. ‘An affair? God, no. I love Michael. Even if he does get off on knicker nicking.’ She gave a little laugh at the weak joke, and SJ joined in. It was good to laugh; it chased away the pain, as laughter always did.
‘Does it affect – you know – sex and stuff?’ she asked curiously.
Tanya gave her a swift sideways glance. ‘Actually, it’s made our sex life better. Michael’s much more relaxed than he used to be. Although I do draw the line at calling him Lizzie when we’re in bed.’
‘Lizzie!’
‘Mmm.’ Tanya went slightly pink. ‘That’s the name he wants to be called when he’s dressed up. I keep telling him I don’t mind having a friend called Lizzie, but I don’t fancy sleeping with her.’
‘No.’ SJ looked at her thoughtfully and wondered if she was dealing with this as well as she appeared to be.
Granted, she’d had a chance to get used to the idea.
But it must have changed the whole dynamic of their relationship.
It wasn’t as if Michael had just told her he’d like to tie her to the bed with pink fluffy handcuffs or try out a more adventurous position.
‘Are you really okay?’ she asked softly.
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ Tanya smiled a little too brightly. She folded up her hanky and returned it to her bag. Then she reapplied her lipstick – putting it on perfectly without the aid of a mirror.
SJ had always envied her ability to do that.
If she’d tried to put on lipstick without looking at what she was doing, she’d have ended up with the mouth of a clown.
Not that she wore lipstick much. She just bunged it on before she left the house and forgot about it.
She certainly didn’t carry it around for repeated application.
Tanya finished what she was doing. ‘It was worse than Maddie when I first found out,’ she said. ‘Because Maddie had happened to both of us and this was something that Michael had kept from me. I felt awfully alone. Does that make sense?’
‘Perfect sense,’ SJ said with feeling, and Tanya gave what SJ knew to be a sigh of utter relief – the aftermath of sharing a secret carried too long.
She tried to imagine what they must look like, had anyone been around eavesdropping.
Two intelligent educated professional women sitting on a rotting tree trunk in the middle of the forest discussing problems you’d usually only see bandied about on The Jerry Springer Show; problems that had snuck up on them without as much as a by-your-leave. However had it come to this?