There were times she tried to talk to me about my dressing, bringing up odd subjects like the story of a man who came to London, couldn't find a job and so ended up dressing as a woman so could work as a barmaid. I didn't like to listen. I was confused and embarrassed by other people knowing of my habit and couldn't talk about it.
On another occasion, I was in Marks and Spencer with my Mum and sister; it was the school holidays and we were shipping. My Mum had a basket and as we walked through the lingerie section my Mom stopped and turned to Claire.
"James likes women's clothes. What about us getting these for him?" she said.
She held up a pair of frilly women's knickers.
My sister laughed and said Mum should buy them for me. My Mum promptly placed them in the basket. Both my mother and sister were clearly enjoying the pantomime.
Not me though. I was fifteen, maybe sixteen, and I hated such ridicule, I stormed out of the store and walked home. It was the only time my mother ever made a direct comment on the 'dressing' to me.