Even so, the male part of mybrain did not want to go to his house dressed as a French Maid. Thetrouble was my pantyhose was slowly conquering the onl... part of me thatremained male.I was now starting to think of myself as a woman and to think like one.I had already sorted out my wardrobe.My pantyhose had changed into fishnets and suspenders. I looked atmyself in the mirror and lifted the right side of my dress until I couldsee the top of my stockings and my suspender straps.Mr Jones will like. Hart Street school. Miss Sutton's class. Shetold us to sit together right at the back because you always came top intests and I was always second. Ring any bells?"I bang my head on the side of the kiosk three times as every cathedralclock west of the Iron Curtain chimes in unison. Although I recogniseneither her face nor her voice, I know who she is at once."Ruth Pattison!" I exclaim. "Wow, talk about coincidences!" Actually I'm Ruth Hansford-Jones these days. I got married last May. Heruns a. More

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