This is a work of FICTION for ADULTS only. Do NOT read this if you are under 18 or if you are not an adult according to the laws of your state or country. Do NOT read this if you are offended by fantasies involving sexually explicit material.

Comments welcome to bethjac@hotmail.com

A series of stories with TG themes, dedicated to women, and to men who like to be women (which includes me!)

 

C is for Charlotte - Freaky Friday

by Bethany Jacques

 

Freaky isn't the word for it. I mean, weird. Totally weird. Ultra-weird. Whatever. Basically totally mind bogglingly weird, oh so freaky. I even hesitate to tell you about it, I mean, well, I know, you're just not going to believe it. But I have witnesses, my brother and my sister. They'll tell you, well, they will now, after the events of yesterday at least. I'm sure they just didn't know what was going on, they both thought everything would be normal when they woke up this morning. I suppose I did too. But it isn't. It's still freaky. This is going to be a very exciting Saturday. And yesterday was definitely a freaky Friday.

It really started out yesterday morning, well before eight, we all met up at George's house. We had a public appearance, our first for quite some time. A double celebration, first we were earning the extra money and second, it was our birthday. But you probably knew that. We are famous after all, the Tranter triplets, you remember. It's not as if triplets are all that common in the Midlands, we got quite well known in our younger days. Did adverts and so on, that sort of thing, Opened a few supermarkets, even made a record - a cover of 'One-Two-Three' would you believe.

OK so it didn't really sell, not many at least, probably got to about number 300 in the top 40. George on drums, me on guitar, Michelle on keyboards. Pity she was the only one of us who could sing. That was the end of our search for fame really, George went off to university, Michelle and I both did college courses and started up in jobs and so on, her in a bank, me in an estate agent's office. We all did quite well, George stayed on at the uni doing research, Michelle and I both got promotions. Then, surprisingly, at 23 years old they - my brother and my sister - both decided to get married. Which is why we were all three being driven by John, Michelle's husband, yesterday morning just after half past eight, for the short drive into town for the shop opening, our public appearance on our birthday.

The new store, 'We R Toys', was due to open at nine and they'd milked the publicity as much as they could, got out the local press and TV station for the event. I mean, all we were doing was opening a toy shop, for goodness' sake. But they'd hired the Tranter trio for the event and got the pictures up outside the store, pictures from some of our early 'appearances'. Like the one of the three of us in football kit to celebrate City winning a cup tie, and that awful one with George and I gazing lovingly at Michelle, bit weird that, gazing adoringly at our sister.

But in pride of place was THAT picture, you remember it, the three of us all dressed in green, it was to advertise a vile-coloured fruit drink. Awful picture really, the three of us with our signatures scrawled across our midriffs. Awful picture, awful drink. I can't remember the name of it! The picture though, yes, it's ingrained in my memory. We weren't even holding cups or bottles of the drink, just dressed in green, the three of us. And the toy shop had a massive print of the picture all over one big window, dominating Millennium Square really. The drink didn't last long but we did get an awful lot of money for that picture session. Good job we weren't on commission.

Anyway the three of us piled into John's big car yesterday morning. Michelle was driving, John was left at home looking after their daughter Maria, a gorgeous little thing. We'd done a short rehearsal a couple of days earlier, we all knew exactly what we were doing. The local TV crew were there too, we'd had quite a lot of good publicity from them over the years. Probably because Nick, the male anchor guy, had fancied Michelle, I still remember he'd look disappointed when they'd done a feature on Michelle's wedding. Or maybe because his presenting partner Suzanne fancied me, I'd noticed it was always her who ended up doing my interview bit in any of our appearances.

We got through the speech-making on time, finished it and handed over to the store's MD at exactly one minute to nine. I smiled across at Michelle, we both knew George was really fed up, didn't want to be there. We'd taken the lion's share of the script, kept George out of it, really didn't want him to lapse into the sort of language he had used in the past. Really the three of us, despite being triplets, were so different. Michelle is quiet and sweet, George is so macho and really has got something of a foul mouth, very much a man's man.

And me, the one in-between. Not on the pictures, they always had Michelle in the middle for obvious reasons. I wasn't as macho as George, certainly I was appalled by some of the language he used, specially in female company. Just rude, I called it. And I wasn't as quiet and sweet and homely as my sister. Not quite homely as in plain, you understand, she really could look gorgeous when she made the effort. But she wasn't a glamour-puss by any means. Still, I liked her. Obviously.

Anyway, just on nine we were ready. We stood there together, side by side, we always where photogenic, triplets are, flashbulbs popping as Michelle cut the tape. Everyone cheered and the customers filed into the store to get at the opening special offers. We turned, job done, but agreed to one last photo by the fountain, tossing coins in for luck like you do. The guy from the Post just said 'Say cheese', which we did as we all threw a coin in. His bulb flashed just as my coin hit the water, I remember closing my eyes just for a moment.

I opened them. I stepped forward down the inclined path. I stumbled and George caught me.

"Careful Charlotte. You OK?"

I stopped. I stood still. George's hand was on my arm, I looked at it. Not his hand, my arm. It was bare. I mean, no shirt, no hairs even. Smooth. What the fuck! I saw Michelle moving round in front of me, I looked at her face. She looked concerned.

"Charlotte? Careful darling, are you really OK?"

Charlotte? What the...?

Then I noticed, behind her head, on the large toy-shop window, that big picture of the three of us. It looked right but wrong. The three Tranter triplets, but... There was George, in the middle, he should be on the right with me on the left and Michelle in the middle. But Michelle was on the left, this was confusing. And on the right - I looked at the signed name. It was quite clear, 'Charlotte'. Not Charlie, I remembered doing that signing, for some reason I'd taken my name down-market at the time, written 'Charlie' instead of 'Charles'. But the name I was looking at was 'Charlotte'. It was a picture of a woman, well, a girl back then. But...

I moved my feet a little and stumbled again a little as George let me go, something was definitely wrong. I looked down - at a pair of black high heels on my feet, and nylon-covered legs. I was wearing tights! What the hell was going on? And then, the clincher, as the TV van drove away on our right I saw the three of is reflected in the other big window - George was there, and Michelle - and another woman. I moved my leg. She did too. I nearly fainted.

Michelle grabbed me by the shoulders and steadied me to lead me towards one of the benches in the square. Two older men who were sat there stood up to let us sit down, giving me a friendly but rather unfamiliar kind of smile as they moved. I waited beside Michelle and realised. I was wearing a short dark skirt, and a blouse and a jacket. And I could feel a bra, hell, I had tits!

I didn't say anything for a moment or two, I just had absolutely no idea what to say. Something had happened, something totally freaky, totally strange. But everyone round me, even my brother and sister, were behaving as if absolutely nothing had happened. I was shaking, worried rather than cold. I saw Nick from the TV news programme heading our way. He sat down beside me and took my hand. My hand? Well, yes it was, I felt his gentle grasp, but what I was seeing was his own large slightly hairy hand holding my thin fingers, decorated with red nail varnish and with three rings, definitely female rings if you know what I mean, the sort of ring 'Charles' would never have worn.

Nick was speaking to me, he obviously realised something was wrong.

"... if you like, Charlotte. I mean, you really don't look well, are you fit for work today? It is Friday, maybe you should have today off, recover over the weekend. How about I drive you home?"

"Hey, Nick, watch it!" George had been listening, he'd butted in. "She's not well, OK, but you just don't try anything, we all know you fancy my sister, no need to take advantage of a woman when she's off-colour."

"George, you know me better that that. Look, I'll drive Charlotte home, and I promise, I'll be a good boy. Scout's honour. OK?"

I really wasn't taking any part in this, I was just sitting and trying to take it all in. The big picture on the window, my hands, my shoes, my clothes... What the hell was happening? Then - the tannoy outside the store, it started playing a song. OUR song. I listened. 'One - two - three, that's how easy...'

The song was right, the rhythm was exactly as I remembered it. Three voices, not really in harmony, but different. The singing trio, I could hear the voices well, it was - one male and two female voices. Which was not at all how it had sounded when I'd last played the song, to a friend from work about three days earlier. Somehow it was true. The Tranter triplets. George, Michelle - and Charlotte. And somehow, now, I was Charlotte.

I don't remember much about the trip home, only that my mind was pre-occupied. Well, it would be wouldn't it? What had changed? Had I somehow flipped into some sort of parallel universe? Had I been dreaming? For 25 years, even, had I been dreaming that I'd been a man? But I had all these memories, football at school, taking Danielle to the pictures, groping Sarah at the office party last year. Surely if I was a woman they wouldn't have happened. So how come I remembered them? I do recall Nick sat beside me, driving. He obviously knew where he was going. Had he driven 'Charlotte' home before? And what had happened then? Come to that, where the hell did Charlotte live?

The answer arrived soon enough as he pulled up outside my block of flats. MY block, Charles's. I was going to get out of the car and leave him. I turned to thank him for the lift but he'd already followed me. He took my arm as we went in. Should I go to the same flat? I didn't know. All these questions!

So I did go along the passage to the same flat, number 4, at the back and looking out towards the garden. My key fitted the lock, I turned it and pushed.

"Er - Charlotte?"

Nick was behind me, on the threshold.

"Look, Charlotte, I know we've been here before, I mean just that once when I took you to dinner. I'd hoped then - well, you know, but you really did make it clear then that you didn't want to go any further. Anyway after what George said I'm not so sure, I mean, I'd love to come in, really. I'm not due into the studio until about two, Suzanne is doing the lunchtime bulletin today."

It was about half past nine. I'd been a woman for half an hour. I was still totally perplexed by the whole thing but I had realised that for the moment - somehow - I had to make it work.

"Nick, please, do come in. Let's have a coffee, I could do with someone to talk to. Just talk, OK?"

Nick was obviously happy to get the invitation, he went past me into the main room in the flat. I looked round. It was the same flat, well, of course it was. Buildings don't just change. What was I saying? My whole life seemed to have changed, in an instant, at that moment when I'd thrown that coin in. Hang on, maybe if it really was some sort of wishing well or something like that, maybe I'd made a wish. To be a woman or something. But that would be some kind of magic, wouldn't it? And magic didn't happen. It's some sort of trickery usually, or illusion, it couldn't really happen. Yet somehow it seemed to have happened - to me. At that moment I just couldn't come up with any other explanation of what had happened to me. Or of what had happened to my flat.

I looked round again. It was the same shape as the room I remembered, the room I - Charles that is - had been in and had breakfast in less than two hours earlier. But it was also different, the walls were a paler sort of yellow, the sofa was the same shape and size but the furnishings were all just a bit different. And the place was tidy. I remembered leaving my trainers by the French windows that morning after my short morning jog. They were there, but they were not mine. They were not the same colour, and they were smaller. I looked down at my stiletto clad feet. They were smaller too. I knew the trainers would fit. They were mine. Charlotte's.

I realised Nick was still waiting. I still needed time to think about this. I pointed him towards the kitchen, again, same kitchen but differences all over. He set to getting coffee and milk and so on, I left him to it for a minute or two and went through into my bedroom. The same bedroom, this wasn't very much different. Same decorations, same furniture, bed, chair, wardrobe, dressing table. Except there were several pots and jars on the dressing table, and the whole room looked cleaner. Again, tidier. But when I looked in the wardrobe - well! Very different indeed.

Like, no shirts, no suits, except three business-type jacket-and-skirt suits at one end of the rail. And no ties, not one, in fact no tie rack. But shoes, loads of shoes, I didn't count but there must have been thirty pairs, handing in some special shoe-hanger and lined up at the bottom of the wardrobe. And above them tops, blouses, skirts, dresses. Loads of them. This Charlotte was clearly a clothes junkie. No, it was me, I was the junkie, since I was now Charlotte.

I could hear Nick moving round in the kitchen, cups and jugs clanking a little. I paused for a minute before going back in. Paused to look in the tall mirror on the wardrobe door, one of the few features in there I hadn't had - before. I looked. I saw a woman. Obviously. I tried to assess what I could see. I realised I could describe myself somewhat dispassionately, in a sense I was seeing someone else. A tallish woman, not as tall as Charles but not far off in high-ish black stilettos. Nearly black tights, I knew from experience that colour was sometimes referred to as Barely Black. A suit, a woman's suit that is, smart tailored jacket and a matching skirt, a deep blue colour with a pale blue slightly wavy stripe running vertically. Pale blue blouse. Not long fingers but again lengthened by longish and well-manicured nails, red but not bright red, not scarlet or vermilion, a bit of a purplish or bluish tinge.

But my face - well, how do you describe your face when you are seeing it for the first time. Slightly resembling Charles's maybe but with definite overtones of Michelle, her cute-ish nose certainly. Not surprising since she was my sister, hell, I was her sister too. Nicely done make-up, not too heavy, nice eyes, enhanced by clever blue eye-shadow but not overdone. Hell, I had pierced ears with fashionable large gold earrings, and quite long blonde hair, sort of dark-ish blonde. Overall, well, I wasn't a 'babe' as I used to say, when I'd been a man, the day before. But attractive, certainly.

Put it this way, I'd have dated me. Charles, that is, though in this mixed-up parallel world situation or wherever I was that probably couldn't ever happen. I mean I had to be one or the other, Charles or Charlotte, both of us couldn't be there together, could we? Heck, what did I know?

I went back into the lounge, very quickly taking the chance to have a look in my family album before Mike brought the coffee. I knew what I'd find and I was right. The newspaper clippings of our birth, the pictures all showed - two girls and a boy. All the editorial was about the three of us as I expected, I remembered many of the articles written about us as we'd grown up, but they now referred to the adventures and escapades of 'George, Michelle and Charlotte' Tranter. Somehow I'd known they would.

Mike appeared with the coffee, we sat together on the sofa.

"Charlotte, are you OK now? I mean, you gave us a bit of a shock back there, you looked so pale. I think George and Michelle were worried for a moment. I know I was."

And he put a hand gently over mine, on my lap. I realised that somehow I'd have to deal with this but not now. I was, in my own mind at that time, a man trapped in a woman's body. So I'd had quite some experience of male-female relationships but with me as the male. In this situation I really didn't know how to proceed. Maybe I'd end up lesbian? I just didn't know. The phone saved me.

"Hello. Charlotte? Jack here, look, George rang, said you weren't well and wouldn't be in the office today. Well, I've got Mr and Mrs Langton here, about the house in Halesowen. They were due to visit today, I've found it in your diary. Thing is, Mr Langton says he'll only deal with you. Says you know all the details, so we're a bit stuck. Can you talk to him, I can do the visit, we can sure manage without you today, it's just this one visit."

So. I had a job. The same job, in the Estate Agency, clearly Charlotte worked there - instead of Charles. Everything had some sort of equivalence. I remembered the Langtons, though in my own mind I recalled it was Mrs Langton who had been insistent, she would only deal with me - Charles. I told Jack to put him on, Mr Langton that is.

"Hi there, yes, this is Charlotte. William isn't it? Yes, or course I remember you." So I was being Charlotte and doing exactly the same buttering-up process as I had as Charles except this time as a woman. I thought quickly, I really was beginning to snap out of the whole confusion thing. I knew how to deal with him.

"I'm SO sorry, William, I was really looking forward to taking you to the house, oh, and your wife too of course. But I really am not fit for work today. Look, why don't you go with Jack and see the property today and then call in on Monday, I should be back by then. Then we can go to lunch maybe and discuss it? OK?"

Which is exactly what I'd planned on doing, on Monday, to persuade Mrs Langton to buy the house. OK so I'd have to use my feminine wiles to work on him instead of - you get the picture. And I had two days to work out how to do that. To begin learning to be a woman.

I hung up and looked again towards Nick. He wasn't looking quite as worried as he'd seemed earlier but he was still looking towards me. Waiting, I think, for me to make some sort of move or to say something. I realised that I didn't want him there. I needed to be on my own. To think. But I had to find out a thing or two first.

"So, Nick, what's going on then? What's on the programme today? Anything interesting?" A bit of a lame question really but I had to start somewhere.

"Well, Charlotte. You are of course, a big event you know, I remember seeing the original feature about when you were born. A big thing, in regional news, you know."

I spotted that he'd given me a way in. "So you've seen my file then? The sort of thing you do there, things about footballers and singers and celebrities and so on. So what does it say about me then?"

I grinned a little at him, I wanted him to open up, and he did to an extent.

"Of course I've looked, Charlotte, that's my job. And of course I'm specially interested in the T-Ts, one of them in particular."

I realised the equivalence thing happening again, as I remembered it Suzanne had a thing for George, in this world or wherever I was it was Nick who felt something - for me, for Charlotte. I moved my hand to gently squeeze his. Then I let go. I wanted him to talk, nothing else. Anyway, just for five minutes or so that's just what he did, telling me things I knew about, the fifth birthday party and the celebrations, I knew that had been covered, and several other events too. But in every case a slightly different version of my own memory of what had happened. It did what I needed, filled in the gaps, confirmed what I was beginning to realise. Suddenly I felt a bit weary.

"Nick, thanks for looking after me. But I think I need to rest, try to get over whatever this is. Don't worry, it's nothing major. Just a bit of a bug I think."

He stood up. "That's OK, Charlotte. I'll see you later on anyway at the party. I'd better be getting into the office anyway."

I moved over - and kissed him. Just gently, just once, on the cheek. I squeezed his hand. I knew that would be the way to do it, to say goodbye for now. But this was going to be difficult, awkward, dealing with the male-female relationship thing. After he left I went to the fridge and got myself a beer. Well, either Charlotte liked beer or she had got several cans in for guests. She? No, me. I took my can into the bedroom and looked into the tall mirror again. Still me, still Charlotte, still a woman. I put the empty can down.

Slowly, shivering with a combination of excitement and some sort of fear I decided I had to investigate being a woman. I took off my jacket and began to un-button my blouse. I was staring. Hell, I was watching a woman undressing, and it was me. Slowly I un-did all the buttons, looking in fascination at my manicured red-nailed fingers moving under my control as I peeled off the blouse and stepped out of the skirt of my suit. I watched in awe as I gently teased the straps of my pink bra and un-fastened the clip at the front. I shivered a little more at the sight of my breasts, hanging loose. I teased my right nipple.

My breathing became more laboured as I continued to caress both my boobs, feeling the nipples stiffen as I rhythmically pushed and pulled, until the excitement got the better of me. My breasts had firmed up, and the nipples had swollen, they really were very sensitive to my touch, I heard myself beginning to moan in delight. I was beginning to lose control to an extent, something automatic was taking over as I watched my right hand snake downwards into my shiny pink panties, as I felt my fingers begin to massage my vagina. I was getting very wet! I had to stop looking in the mirror, I just had to lie down on the bed to continue fingering myself, feeling the warm moisture escaping onto my fingers. I was moaning more loudly.

OK, 'as Charles' I'd never been averse to an occasional masturbation, and I had always reckoned I did that well, I got no small satisfaction from the ensuing release of sexual tension. But this was something else and somehow it seemed wrong. I shouldn't be doing this, not with someone else's body. I shouldn't be fingering someone else's cunt. But it wasn't someone else's, it was mine, that was obvious. As my fingers gently caressed the folds of my vagina it was me, ME, not someone else, feeling the warm ever-so-arousing flush through my entire body. I felt things begin to happen. I stopped. I lay there for two or three minutes, continuing to caress my new body, wondering whether to 'finish myself off'. I didn't.

The phone rang.

"Charlotte, hi. Sorry I couldn't ring earlier, you ok?" I recognised the voice of my sister.

"Er - sure Michelle. Yes, very much better thanks. I was just going to put my head down for a few minutes, try to rest, to recover fully. It's just some sort of bug I think, nothing major. Thanks for ringing anyway."

"Er - is Nick still there?"

She was fishing, I could still tell by the hesitancy in her voice, she wanted to know what had been going on. Actually it was perfectly understandable, we are sisters after all.

"No, he isn't, he went about half an hour ago. And before you ask he was the perfect gentleman."

"Was he?"

She sounded disappointed in some way. "Shame really, he's a nice guy, Charlotte, you could do a lot worse you know."

Which was strange. Very strange. Because the Michelle I knew, Charles knew that is, was always trying to get me - or him - off with Helen, Nick's co-presenter on the evening news program. Again, some sort of equivalent situation, the same but different. I spent nearly an hour after Michelle had rung off looking round the house and checking up on the differences, but I just came up with Charlotte-related similarities. I found my driving licence, my salary statements - same estate agent's, same salary scale - even my supermarket loyalty card, all printed or labelled exactly as they would have been if I had really been Charlotte. I looked at my own new signature on the card - it was just about identical, C-squiggle Tran-squiggle. I'd intended to practice it, but I didn't need to.

I was becoming resigned to the truth by then, maybe five hours after that nine-o-clock changeover. Looking back I'm surprised I stayed sane during that time, so many totally improbable things seemed to have happened or to be happening. I mean, it had to be pretty unique, I'd never heard of anything remotely like it happening before. It's not the sort of thing you expect, is it? Just going into town in the morning, standing there with members of your family in the morning sunshine, closing your eyes for a moment, and changing gender. Like I said, not an everyday event.

However I needed rest. I stripped naked and put on a light nightdress I'd found in 'my' lingerie drawer and crept into bed. And slept for a couple of hours. Again I'm surprised I could sleep but I did. I felt better when I woke and had a quick shower, being careful not to mess up my make-up as I did so. That was maybe a skill I'd have to learn to deal with. I looked round the bedroom yet again and found underwear and a skirt and a top in exactly the places where I might have expected them to be. I actually enjoyed the dressing process, sliding on nylon tights over my dare legs, clipping a black bra on to hold up what I was beginning to appreciate were very impressive breasts, sliding on a pair of black stilettos I found in the bottom of my wardrobe.

I was surprised how well I coped with the stilettos, my one and only previous experience with high-heels hadn't been altogether positive. That was the time the three of us made a guest appearance in the Rocky Horror Show at the Hippodrome, all three of us in black basques and fishnets and very high platforms, and made-up to the nines. I thought I looked OK though at the same time I thought George looked stupid. Even though we are (or rather were) identical siblings. Michelle looked totally gorgeous though, I do remember that. I found the photo album again, and found THAT photograph. Not surprisingly it looked different though the caption was very similar - 'Michelle and Charlotte Tranter, with sister Georgina - at the first night of ....' I remembered it differently - 'Michelle Tranter, with sisters Charlotte and Georgina - at the first night of ...' That equivalence thing again.

I was suddenly quite hungry. OK, so I had the day off work. I just wondered what a doctor might write on my sick note if I'd had to have one. Gender Confusion, or something like that maybe, whatever that was in Latin. I had a small internal giggle at the thought. There was stuff in the freezer and the fridge but I decided to go out for a late lunch, just a snack maybe, I had to do that sometime.

Obviously I knew the locality, I wondered if I'd notice any differences there. I couldn't really see any reasons why. I crossed the street to the small café-cum-wine bar, still called 'Fred's', at least it wasn't run by someone called Frederica or anything. And Fred greeted me.

"Hi Charlotte. The usual?"

"Sure Fred". I wondered just what my usual was, not a pie and a pint surely. He brought me a glass of white wine, a nice Chablis, a wine I'd always appreciated though I'd never have called it my usual. But I was Charlotte now, not Charles. And a minute or two later Wendy, his wife, appeared from the kitchen behind the bar and presented me with a rather delicious-looking sandwich, tuna in wholemeal bread, with some kind of herb flavouring I didn't recognise though it was rather tasty. OK, if that was to be my usual I wasn't going to complain.

Wendy chatted for a few minutes, saying she'd seen a very short clip on the local lunchtime news, me and my sister and brother, she asked me just what Nick was like, and if he really did fancy me, she thought it looked obvious from the way he had presented the items involving me. I smiled, chatted, enjoyed myself really, and for the first time had to cope as a female with an unwanted male intervention.

He was a big guy, fat, really, I noticed him out of the corner of my eye just as Wendy had to go and deal with another customer.

"You're Charlotte, aren't you? I've seen you on the telly."

Sometimes there are advantages in being a sort-of D-list celebrity, getting priority treatment in restaurants and so on, but there are negatives too. And this was one of them. OK I'd had the experience as Charles but not in my new feminine guise. Frequent interruptions of your private life, people assuming familiarity because they know you and imagine you want to know them, that sort of thing. I mean, I was just sitting there, minding my own business, how dare he start to come on to me in that sort of way? I was surprised, this really was new to me, I wondered if Michelle had ever had a complete stranger approach her in a bar and put his hand over hers.

Luckily I'd finished my luck and my drink. I smiled at him, moved my hand away and stood up. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I do have to go now. Meeting George a bit later, nice to meet you."

Which was really a lie, I know, but it served its purpose. I grabbed my handbag and turned, heading for the door and smiling my thanks in Fred's direction as I left. So. What to do now? I turned left, away from my house and did a little window-shopping in the small arcade next to the café. 'Annabelle's' attracted me, somewhere I'd noticed before but never been into. Well, I wouldn't have would I? It was a women's shop, clothes and shoes and scarves and so on. I looked with interest at a blue skirt on a model in the window.

And then I saw a pair of shoes. They definitely did attract my attention. A pair of open-sided stilettos, black, shiny, really very attractive and indeed very high heels. I hadn't the background experience at that moment to come to a proper judgement as to whether they would suit me or not. But I thought they might and they were in the sale anyway. I went in.

I think it may have been Annabelle herself who served me, she was very nice. Maybe she recognised me anyway, perhaps that's why she was so attentive. Added to which, as a minor celebrity I would perhaps bring her shop some publicity. I had a bit of trouble dealing with the size, I just didn't know what size my feet were! But I bluffed my way through that and did try on a pair, and ended up buying them. I coped with the card OK, my own version of the 'Charlotte Tranter' signature was so very similar to the signature on my card and Annabelle didn't inspect it too closely anyway, she was just happy to have the sale.

So, bag in hand, I headed back towards home. Just as I turned into my drive I realised. It was the 'Annabelle' name which prompted me I think. My car, Antonia. OK, silly I know, but I'd actually given my car a name, for some reason it reminded me of an old girlfriend so I'd got one of those stick-on name labels, 'Toni', and stuck it on the dashboard. I had a feeling I knew what I'd find there. If the car was there of course, so what if anything was sitting in my garage?

I turned towards the garage, it looked just as I remembered it. The key on my key-ring fitted the lock, I swung the door open. It was there, this time exactly as I remembered it, my scarlet soft-top MG, probably my most prized possession. Ever since I'd been a young boy I'd loved the whole idea of sports cars and just after my twenty-first birthday I'd seen this one for sale in a garage I'd just been passing. I moved round the side and opened the driver's door. I looked inside. 'Tony'. Obviously. I wondered what he'd been like, I mean, I remembered Toni, medium height, brunette, gorgeous legs and very well endowed. But 'Tony'? No idea.

I shut the garage and locked it, turning to walk towards the front door. I'd actually been out longer than I'd intended but then again I was having a rather lazy day after my most unusual start. And Michelle was just getting out of her car outside the gate.

"Hi Charlotte." She looked at my bag. It was obvious it contained a shoe-box. "OK, I can see you're feeling better, a bit of retail therapy? Are they for the party tonight?"

The party! Of course, the party, I'd forgotten. Not surprising really, with so much else to occupy my mind. The special celebration the local Chamber of Commerce were giving us. Really it was just a bit of an excuse for a piss-up, get some of the local companies there, give them champagne and little things on sticks, basically try to generate some enthusiasm for regional business and so on, and hang the whole thing onto the peg of the semi-famous triplets and their twenty-fifth birthday. Well, despite my own personal situation I imagined that would be going ahead, I had to think, maybe our own arrangements wouldn't be as I remembered them, I was maybe going to have to carefully quiz Michelle about that.

But she started giving me answers before I'd even started trying to think of subtle questions. "It is at 8 o'clock, isn't it Charlotte? I know it's in the Grosvenor, actually I'm quite looking forward to it, I haven't been in any of their post suites. George is picking us up at half-seven, I think he said. Now. Have you decided? Who gets which dress? Let me see."

I unlocked my door and we went in, Michelle took the bag from me and opened the shoebox.

"Oh thank you, Charlotte. Thank you. I really was hoping you'd let me wear the red one."

I was puzzled for a moment, then I realised. Logical really, OK so we had two dresses somewhere. Clearly two new dresses - for the party. And since we were clearly the same size - whatever size that was - each of us could wear either. And I'd been given the choice, but since I'd bought black shoes I wasn't going to wear the red dress, so she was going to. Simple really. Michelle disappeared into my bedroom for a moment and emerged with two dresses on hangers, and laid them across the sofa. One was red, one was black. So I was right.

"I thought we should get ready soon, Charlotte. John is looking after Maria, they'll meet us there. And you said you wanted me to help with your make-up, really Charlotte, you should be more confident you know, after all you are twenty-five now."

This was working out. OK so 'as Charlotte' I was going to have to go to this party, really I'd much rather have stopped in and kept on thinking and trying to work things out. But at least I was maybe going to get some help.

"I need to shower, Charlotte, you want to call George and check on the timings?"

So I did. His number was correct, of course it was, and indeed he was coming over at about a quarter to eight, his wife and John were going to be taking the kids along later just for an hour or so, leaving the three of us to enjoy the spotlight, and to milk it to an extent. The extra income from appearances and the like did always come in useful in fact it had gone some way towards buying Toni. Tony, I mean.

I was surprised by Michelle coming out of the bathroom almost naked, especially when she dropped her towel to put on her red bra and panties, I mean, I just had to look, I hadn't seen my sister naked for years. Well at that sort of age you don't, do you? I didn't dwell mentally on the differences in that respect between me and George, it really is different for guys. Charles and George, that is.

But I didn't get caught out staring, just followed Michelle into the bathroom, stripped myself and began to get myself ready. This time I did remove my make-up, I remembered about make-up remover pads and conditioning cream and some of those things, the sort of preparation I'd seen several girlfriends involved with over the years. OK so I'd not watched them carefully but I had watched. Specially since on most such occasions the girls in question had been at most partly dressed.

And while I was looking in the bathroom cupboard I noticed something else. A small bubble-pack of pills. I checked the days on the bubbles, Friday's was missing. OK so I was on the pill and up-to-date. Really I'd no reason to suppose this Charlotte was a virgin, it's just that - in that sense - I was. A virgin, that is, as a female. I'd never experienced - IT - as a female. I did remember the feelings I'd encountered earlier in the day as I'd laid on the bed, fingering myself. Would I ever?

And how would I react, I mean, was I a lesbian even? I was certainly attracted to Michelle's body, she looked gorgeous. Which is in fact a very vain statement, we look so alike. But again in a way I could be dispassionate her, Charlotte was indeed a very attractive woman. Like I said, as Charles, I'd have fucked me.

Steadily we dressed together, Michelle and I. Obviously with all the cameras that were bound to be around we had to look good, I realised that. Which was the reason for the twp dresses, different colours but very similar styles, short and tight and low-cut, I got yet another thrill when I saw the effect on my cleavage of the plunge under-wired bra I was wearing. Michelle too though the darker black dress showed my own bulging tits even better than hers in her red dress.

I slipped my new shoes on and posed a little in front of the large mirror.

"Gee, Charlotte, I didn't realise those heels were so high."

Michelle looked me in the eye, a devilish grin of sorts on her face. "Is it Nick? Is that why? I mean, you do know what those shoes are, don't you?"

I looked puzzled.

"Those, Charlotte my darling, and if you'll excuse my language, are real fuck-me heels. So I think Nick may be getting lucky tonight."

I didn't know how to respond.

"And you're blushing. I'm right, I'm so glad."

With which my sister grabbed me tightly round the waist, I probably blushed again as our combined boobs squashed together and she gently kissed my cheek.

She didn't refer to it again. I had to deal with a couple of phone calls, both from friends I knew but both approaching our conversation in a way which just didn't sound right. Or at least in a way I wasn't quite expecting. Then Michelle and I, sitting side-by-side in front of my vanity mirror, sorted out our make-up and our jewellery and so on. Despite my anticipated problems in those areas I reckon I did quite well, even as far as fitting in my earrings into my pierced ears, difficult with long nails.

Finally we were ready. I have to admit - I looked good. My own impression was confirmed, in no uncertain way, when George arrived.

"Christ Charlotte, you look fucking fantastic. So who's the luck man who's going to be shagging you tonight?"

"George!"

"George!"

Michelle and I, almost in stereo, told our brother off for his language, yet again. At least, in whatever sort of dream or parallel world this was, some things hadn't changed. We both grabbed our bags and George escorted his famous siblings on the short drive to our destination, the Grosvenor Hotel, just across Millennium Square from the scene of that momentous, at least for me, event just under twelve hours earlier. We went it together, at eight on the dot, to the strains of 'For he's a jolly good fellow'. A bit inappropriate I thought, but at least better than our dubious rendition of 'One-two-three'.

There were some speeches at first, welcomes, thanks for what we'd done for the city and the region, guff about the importance of local links and all that. And then we had to circulate, and drink champagne and have nibbles and so on. Well, at least we were getting paid for it. Actually, no, not ourselves getting paid but the Chamber of Commerce was giving a donation to the charity we'd nominated in return for us pushing the goodwill bus and all that.

John and Samara turned up, with little Maria and April, they were just there for an hour or so, lots of photos and the kids got at some of the nibbles before getting dragged off to bed. The three of us stayed, and Nick arrived just after nine. I was actually pleased to see him, at least here was someone I'd talked to as Charlotte, basically a 'friend'. Just before ten he grabbed my hand and led me from the room. I caught Michelle's eye, she was grinning. I knew then something was going on.

Mike lad me across the hall and into an adjacent empty room. "Charlotte, there's something I want to ask you."

I just hadn't read it, hadn't seen the signs, maybe Michelle knew more about this than I did. But alone together in that room, with Nick's hand in mine, I felt happy. I slid my arms round his neck - and kissed him. Not the peck on the cheek we'd enjoyed that morning, this was much more. Hell, I was kissing a man, and I was enjoying it. I felt his hands move round my back. In response I opened my mouth and thrust my tongue into his, and felt his reaction. Them slightly surprisingly, he broke the clinch and pushed slightly away. His had went to his pocket and emerged with a small black box. I recognised the style of box, I knew what was coming. No!

I have to admit it - in some strange way I was feeling good. I mean, there I was being hugged and kissed by a man. But at that moment it was the natural thing to do, I'd egged him on a bit, enjoying 'flirting' as we went round the room. I can't blame him, if a girl had teased my like I'd teased him, I'd have been up for it too. But clearly Nick wasn't just up for it, as they say. He had - the box.

"Nick, wait. Please."

"No, Charlotte. I've been carrying this ring around for two weeks now, waiting for just the right moment. Please..."

He wasn't to be dissuaded. He opened the box, I looked. At, you guessed it, an engagement ring. Silver with one large central stone, a diamond I assumed, and a cluster of about twelve much smaller ones round it. Not that I was ever an expert at that sort of thing, it did look to be a very nice engagement ring indeed.

"Let me...."

He left the sentence incomplete again, just took the ring from the box and slid it quickly onto the third finger of my left hand. I looked at it, moved my hand a little to allow it to catch the light, that ring on that finger, MY finger, long nail and nail varnish and all, it indeed did look right. But I couldn't, not that day. I knew what I had to say was going to be difficult but I really had no choice. Since I still had no idea what had happened to me that morning I just couldn't say 'yes'. Could I?

It was still within the realms of possibility that this sex-change thing was temporary, that the next morning I'd wake up and be Charles again. It was even possible the whole thing was a dream though it would have had to be such a dream, so realistic. Or - well, or something else. I really didn't know what. I stared at my hand once more. I looked Nick straight in the eyes. He really was, in a very masculine sort of way - I don't know why I said that - handsome. Like someone had said earlier, quite a catch.

"Please Charlotte, you must know how I feel about you. I've been waiting, hoping things would work out and make this possible. Well, they have. I submitted an idea to the station bosses a few months ago, a regional feature program, looking at couples in the area and how they managed in difficult circumstances, a human interest series. And they like it, Charlotte. This gives me a chance to move away from just the news, into features, maybe even go national. It means I'm ready, not just for that, but to be - I hope - your hus-"

"Nick. Wait. "

It was my turn now to interrupt him. I paused. he was waiting expectantly.

"Nick, I'm flattered. And I'm not saying no, Nick, I do like you an awful lot. And you do mean a lot to me too. But, Nick darling, I've really had a very freaky sort of day. Not just feeling ill this morning, you understand, some other stuff too. Please, let's just get through tonight, I really should at least sleep on this. OK?"

I took the ring off and offered it back to him. He looked disappointed. Understandable really. He'd been chasing in some way this 'Charlotte' person for some time clearly. But, and I just couldn't tell him, no way, he'd just proposed to someone else, indeed to a man - in a woman's body. I just couldn't say yes. But I couldn't shut the door on him.

"Nick, please. Ask me again next week. OK?"

He still looked disappointed but had to agree to my request.

"Thanks" I said. And kissed him again. It really was such a very nice feeling. My tongue began to explore his mouth once more, we were both groping each other's body again. But this time I seemed to want to do more. I was thinking logically despite the passion of the situation. I was still a virgin as a female though my body wasn't. I wanted to do something about that.

I felt Nick's crotch press into my upper thigh and moved my right hand down. I could feel the swelling of his cock down there. I pulled him tight and began to stroke it hard as we grappled together. I just couldn't stop myself, in fact I didn't want to. I twisted round a little and found his zip. I pulled it down and thrust my hand in, immediately finding and stroking his cock. It was hard. Very hard.

"Oh Charlotte, yes!" was all he could say as I continued kneading his cock with my fingers. He wasn't idle either, I felt his hand exploring my bare back, than it found my own zip and pulled it down. I managed to wriggle a little as his hand moved round to cup my breast.

"Nick, I want you. I want you now" I breathed heavily ."Get my tits out Nick"

And he did. I remembered the feeling as I'd caressed my own breasts that morning for the first time. Well, this was like that but a zillion times more intense. As his fingers moved across my nipples they hardened almost instantly. I moved away from Nick a little, we were still standing - inside that empty suite, just a yard or two inside the door. What if someone was to come in? I reached past him towards the door and turned the internal latch to lock the door, then grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the sofa.

I turned towards him and briefly and passionately pressed my lips to his once more.

"Do you want to fuck me, Nick? Here? Now?"

"Oh yes, darling"

So we did. There and then, on the couch in that empty hotel suite, in the dark with only the light coming in from the moon - and from the illuminated stuff in Millennium Square - Nick made love to me. For me, my first time, losing my cherry and all that. He was definitely up for it, and I made sure he stayed up, up my cunt that is, though he actually got my knickers off and penetrated me quickly enough I managed to get him to slow down a bit as he thrust deeper and deeper up me.

"Nick, do you really want to shag me for the rest of our lives?"

"Oh yes, darling, sure I do."

"Do you love me, Nick? Really? You sure?"

He hardly paused at all. "I love you Charlotte."

"Then make love to me Nick." I dug my nails in his arse and pulled, we both quickened our efforts and within half a minute his hot sperm was shooting deep up my cunt. I loved it. OK I'd had some intense sexual experiences in my twenty-five years, well, the last ten anyway. But this was without doubt the tops. The Earth really did seem to move as Nick groaned his own satisfaction when he climaxed. Then we just lay there. Satisfied. I really didn't want to move.

"Charlotte, my darling, does this mean...?"

"No, Nick it doesn't. I mean, it means a lot to me, sure it does. I don't give myself to just anybody you know. But - well, still, I still need to think. So ask me again next week. Promise me you won't forget."

"No way!"

We dressed quickly after that, after agreeing to meet for lunch the next Wednesday at the studio restaurant. If I turned up he could propose, because he'd know what my answer would be. Out in the corridor we kissed once more, then he turned and dashed off to the studio to do the late evening bulletin. The Midlands nearly didn't have any News that evening.

"Well, Charlotte. Did he?"

It was Michelle. I don't think she'd been waiting there all the time. But she had noticed us coming out together, and our slightly passionate goodnight kiss.

"Did he what?" I asked, in a mock innocent voice.

"Did he propose? I know he was going to, he asked me weeks ago what my ring size is. Bit of a give-away really. So did he - oh my! "

Her voice dropped. "Charlotte, have you two just had sex in there?"

I smiled. I didn't say anything but she knew. She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the Ladies. A first for me. When I looked in the mirror I realised, my lipstick was a mess, my bra straps weren't properly tucked in.

"Come on, lets get you sorted. There's a guy in there wants us to promote some sort of clothing range, sounds a whole load better than that Chlorozip gunk we did. You need to calm down, Charlotte, talk nicely to him. And from your reaction - well, did Nick actually propose?"

I looked at my sister. I had to share sisterly things obviously but I wasn't at all sure how far that went. "Not yet. I asked him to ask me next week. I need to think. Can we talk about that tomorrow, Michelle?"

It was clear I was unsure, in some way at least. My sister hugged me.

"Come on, this advertising guy is gorgeous but he's about five foot two. So don't laugh, he's got pots of money to spend."

We both giggled and rejoined the party. What a day! One sex change, one pair of fuck-me stilettos bought, one potential fiancé fucked. A different day anyway. I checked - it was about ten o'clock, not nearly finished yet. The sex had re-vitalised me, really, I went in search of a handsome short man and a glass or champagne. I found him. Actually he was very nice, very interesting, OK he was short but he had an acute business brain. He'd done his research, come up with something of a gap in the market, designer clothing for the young business man or woman, smart and trendy but acceptable in an office environment. And he'd come up with the idea of using the three of us to promote it, three young professionals, both genders represented, modelling suits and shirts and ties and dresses and shoes and so on.

We spent quite some time discussing this, I got George and brought him into the conversation. After a few minutes, when the guy had left to talk to the mayor, George, who'd had just about too much champagne, turned on me.

"Bloody advertisers, why can't they leave us alone? Just because you and Michelle have big tits, they get..."

"George. Watch your mouth. And remember, your grant isn't very big, you know. The extra money we earn as the T-Ts keeps you afloat. OK so we're lucky the three of us are triplets and so photogenic, and companies like us. So make the most of it. Hang on, he's coming back, just lay off the juice for a while and go with me, we can do well here."

We continued for a while and swapped numbers. Odd really, in the George - Michelle-Charles world I remembered it was always George who took the lead in business decisions. Here it seemed to be me. Maybe it was just one of the two in the 'sexual majority', me and Michelle that is. Anyway this seemed to be a bit of an opportunity. And I needed some extra cash, my car - Tony, that is - needed some work on - him. The party was beginning to thin out, we both looked round.

"Fuck it, Michelle's been nabbed!" said George, just a little too loudly. I looked disapprovingly at him, yet again, then turned to see my sister with the Fan Club. Just two of them, I recognised Martina and Sean. Two of the T-T fan club. That's right, our own fan club. They'd even tried to produce a fan magazine once, then it turned into a News-letter and then just a web-page. I knew them both quite well, at least I had in 'my' world. Both - I have to use the word - nerds. People with a bit of an unhealthy interest in the three of us, I mean, we weren't really that well known. Martina I knew was married, I'd seen a photo once in a newspaper of her in her bedroom with pictures of the three of us, including Charles in my world, plastered over the wall. Sad really.

And Sean was single, worked at something in government research. Tranties, that's what they are. Not trannies, that's something entirely different, not Trekkies either but with a similar-ish fascination. I had to rescue Michelle, I went over towards the three of them. She was pleased to be interrupted and drifted away quickly, though Charlotte followed her. Leaving me with Sean.

I chatted for a few minutes while he gushed a bit about how gorgeous I looked and how thrilled he was to be invited to the party. Quite why, I don't know, but after I'd answered some of his questions about my own position in the estate agent's I felt the urge to ask him about his work.

"Well, Charlotte. I can't tell you a lot really. It's secret government work, on the space program and the universe and parallel worlds and all that sort of stuff. Very theoretical, it's called Blue-Sky research."

My ears pricked up at his throw-away phrase. Parallel worlds. Secret research. Maybe, just maybe, this had something to do with what had happened to me. Unlikely, but not impossible. I took Sean by the arm to guide him away from the few people remaining and asked him what it was about.

"Well, really Charlotte, I shouldn't tell you. It's all hush-hush you know."

OK so I was unfair. I mean, on one or two occasions in the past I'd used my own celebrity to impress girls, as Charles I knew I was handsome enough. What with that and the reflected glory of the Tranters I'd basically had sex under false pretences several times, with a certain type of girl. The impressionable ones, and usually buxom blondes at that. I'd already realised that as Charlotte I was indeed attractive to men, that had become clear throughout the day. And that evening, in a glitzy black dress with sheer stockings and sky-high heels, I knew I could tease, persuade, taunt men to get what I wanted. OK I'd just used my feminine wiles to get men to fetch me a drink or promise some modelling work or whatever. But this time it was serious.

I moved closer to Sean. He was getting a little uncomfortable. But he was smiling, he was in his element, chatting to one of his idols. I leaned over to speak sexily and quietly in his ear, making sure he couldn't help looking down my cleavage and smelling my perfume. "Please Sean, it's very interesting. So, what can you tell me? I'm sure your bosses wouldn't mind."

He was getting excited, noticeably. His breathing was becoming more laboured. But I had to have a go, to do whatever was necessary. Just possibly there was some sort of way out here. I wasn't massively hopeful but still. I carried on holding his and, just stroking it gently.

"Well, since it's you. I mean it really is tentative stuff you know, not much by way of immediate obvious applications. But it was really exciting this morning. I should be there now of course but when I got this invite I knew I just had to come here."

"This morning?" I breathed in his ear. "What happened this morning?"

"Well, it was the blip in space-time. We get it about every twenty-five years, it happened today, almost exactly nine-o-clock."

Now I definitely WAS listening. Some aspects of this were sounding familiar.

"But I really mustn't say any more, I could get the sack."

"Sean darling, I won't tell."

"Er - no, Charlotte, really, I can't."

I knew I couldn't leave it there. OK maybe I was stuck as Charlotte but in some way I had to find out what had happened. And could it ever be reversed? Did Sean really know what he was talking about? I took his hand again and gently led him from the room, grabbing a champagne bottle and two glasses on the way. I managed to get us into the empty room next door without us being seen. This needed some serious seduction.

OK so I'd just had sex, with Nick, an hour or so earlier. But I knew I might well have to do something similar again. I poured us some champagne and encouraged Sean to empty his glass quickly, then filled it up again.

"Sean, darling" I whispered once more as I moved my hands round his neck and began to caress his lips with mine. "Do you know what really excites me?"

"No - er - what?"

"Well Sean, I have to say....." I was making this up as I went along. It HAD to work. " ..... when I'm with someone really exciting, like you Sean, what I just LOVE is to - well - it sounds so kinky, Sean, I like to fondle a man's cock, that's right Sean, go all the way, while he tells me about his work, about what he does, about something he's really committed to. I LOVE that, it really turns me on. Would you like that Sean, would you like me to stroke your cock?"

I know, I was really being unfair. Seam was on the one hand in wonderland, being seduced by his fantasy girlfriend. And on the other hand he was probably going to have to break the Official secrets Act. I regretted it but it just did have to be done.

"Oh yes Charlotte."

I moved my hand down towards his crotch and undid his zip, exactly as I had done with Nick earlier. "So Sean, tell me about this space-time continuum thing. What happened this morning?"

He really was lost. "Well, there's a blip - oh - about every twenty-five years, the instruments just go haywire - oh Jesus!"

I was caressing his cock, teasing his lips.....

" ......... just after nine, it's due to happen again tonight ... Oh Christ!!.."

I was stroking gently, feeling Sean's penis swell in response to my caresses. For the second time in an hour I said it . "Do you want to get my tits out darling?"

Sean had some problems, he wasn't as composed as Nick had been but with some help he managed to get the top half of my dress off and to peel back the cups of my bra.

"Oh yes, Sean, please, more .... oh my darling .... you said tonight, when tonight... tell me... oh!!"

Within minutes I had his cock swollen and ready, I knew he couldn't hold out much longer, this was going to work. "Tonight Sean, when?...."

"Oh fuck" groaned Sean, very appropriately as I caressed his throbbing erect cock

"Yes, tonight, just about midnight, another blip ... Oh my .... in the same place, always fifteen hours later...."

I had it. Fifteen hours, that's right, midnight, and over by the fountain in Millennium Square again, if there was going to be something happening again, just maybe I could arrange things to return me, Charles, back to where I should be. But first I had another ejaculation to deal with. Sean deserved at least that.

"Sean my darling, cum now, Sean, cum for me, shoot your cum baby, darling oh yes, oh YES!!"

And he did. In one go all his dreams came true, he ejaculated. The actual event was, though not a disappointment at all, not up to Nick's efforts, that had been way better. But it was still very satisfying indeed as he shot his load into his pants. So I'd used him, but at least I'd given him what he wanted, in return for what I needed. I re-adjusted my dress. Then, not to be caught out by Michelle or anyone else again, I slipped into the bathroom to properly sort both my clothing and my lipstick.

Sean and I emerged into the corridor again, I managed to get us both back into the main suite without being really noticed. Except that, there were only a few people left, Michelle did notice. Sean went back towards Charlotte, I'm not sure exactly what he would be saying to her. And my sister moved in beside me.

"Charlotte? What's going on? I mean, you and Sean, what on Earth have you...?"

I was just going to say something, in fact to tell her part of the truth, enough to get me out of this, when I noticed the time. I could see the big clock, out in the Square, illuminated. Ten to twelve. And Sean had said - what exactly had he said - 'tonight, just about midnight, another blip'. We had to be ready for it. I quickly went over to George, butted in as he was chatting to the Mayor, on all our behalves I thanked him and everyone for the party and made our excuses, very sorry but we just had to go, and so on.

Both George and Michelle were a bit surprised, I was rushing them. Holding hands with both I negotiated us out of the suite, down the stairs and out of the hotel, almost dragging them across the square.

"George, Michelle. Please, humour me."

I gave them each a coin from my purse, not fully explaining but then I couldn't, could I?

"Look, I need you to do one thing for me" I had to speak quickly, I was watching the large clock. "Let's do what we did this morning again, I need you to help me. Throw the coins in at midnight, make another wish. OK?"

"What the fuck for?" That was George, obviously.

"I'll explain, please, just do it."

The clock began to strike, I counted. One - two - three - four -

I looked at them both as we waited there. Basically they had been persuaded to go along with this mad idea from their sister, she'd been odd all day. I could see what Michelle was thinking, 'OK, let's do this and get her home, maybe after a good night's sleep she'll be all right.'

-five - six - seven -

With any luck, whatever had caused this, things just might - MIGHT - go back to normal. Exactly where I'd be and what I'd be doing I had no idea, I might even be in the square with my brother and my sister, those two - and Charles. If it worked.

- eight - nine -

My thoughts went back over the day. The giddiness and change at nine-o'clock, slowly recovering, trying to think what was going on. Then the drive with Nick, and lying on my bed watching myself. Then the late lunch, the shopping, the shoes,. I looked down. I LOVED those shoes. Pity Charles couldn't wear them. Then getting ready, and the party, and sex - twice in a way, would you believe . That had been good, in fact Nick's cock sliding up me had been just gorgeous. And, in the middle of all that, damn near being proposed to. It had been in its own way a fun day. I'd really enjoyed the experience, being Charles was OK but being Charlotte, even for just a day, that had been something else.

- ten - eleven -

I looked across to the other two standing by the rail round the fountain. Maybe we just had to be there. Perhaps the coins and the fountain were totally irrelevant. Or it could just be in some way the influence of the water. I was damn sure it wasn't any sort of magic but in just a few minutes I'd managed to recreate the earlier situation, to get many things right. So that I could turn back to Charles. If I wanted to.

- twelve -

I looked. George and Michelle were looking towards me. I could see clearly as they both, almost exactly together, tossed their own coins into the water. At the same moment I swung my own hand over the rail and tossed my own coin. I watched the three, almost together, hit the water. I waited.

Nothing happened. I looked down, at my well-manicured and decorated hand. At my breasts, bulging out of my dress. At my feet, still in my 'fuck-me' stilettos. I smiled. OK, so it hadn't worked. The next blip in the continuum thing wasn't for another twenty-five years, so maybe I was to be a woman for another quarter century. I slid a hand, rather sensuously, down past my waist over my thigh and onto my nylons. I'd begun to get used to it in the past fifteen hours. OK, I had Nick to sort out somehow but really I knew I could, and would, enjoy being a woman. Specially the sex! What would that be like?

"Charlotte?..." I looked back towards my brother standing a couple of yards away and holding onto the rail. The voice was his, but it sounded wrong, it sounded rather weak.

Then my sister called out, rather loudly "What the fucking hell is going on?"

And that definitely sounded wrong. Not Michelle, surely. They both looked uneasy. Then - I knew. Not at all the outcome I'd expected but really it was obvious. I reached out and took my sister's right hand in my left hand, and my brother's left in my right.

"Here" was all I said. I began to lead then down the slight slope towards the same bench where the two men had allowed me to sit and recover that morning. I looked at them and past them towards the toy shop we'd been there to open, the one with the T-T memorabilia stuck all over the windows and that awful big greenish poster. That looked right. I remembered the shock I'd experienced earlier that day, on Friday rather, when I'd seen for the first time the version of the picture showing two girls and one boy. And it still showed that, brother in the middle, sisters left and right.

But. I looked at the blown-up autographs. Charlotte on the left. And then, in the middle - Michael! And on the right - Georgina!!!

I led my brother and sister, both of them walking rather unsteadily, towards the bench.

"We have to talk."

Friday had been freaky, but what the hell was Saturday going to bring?

  

  

  

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