Contest and Consequences

by Sarah Bayen

  

Part Two

Flash

  

Laurence and I found an empty compartment and sat ourselves down. I was rather surprised when he sat himself next to me, as opposed to opposite, and felt a little cramped pressed up against the window. The train slowly jolted into motion, and I looked out of the window at the familiar scenery, starting with the houses and cottages of the town where we went to school.

I glanced at Lawrence, sitting there in his stiff white blouse, short skirt and jumper. The blonde ringlets of his wig tumbled over his shoulders, and I noticed that he had taken a lipstick out of his handbag to touch up his make-up. There was no doubt about it, he was right for himself at least; he was much more like a girl, and seemed happier as one.

The absurdity of the situation, however, came home to me in an instant. Here we were, two boys, travelling on a train both dressed as schoolgirls. I looked at my own knees, covered in black tights, and peeking out from under my skirt. How had I allowed this to happen? To cap it all, we were travelling to try and find a new dress for Laurence from an upmarket boutique with a weird owner. I shook my head in wonder at our predicament.

"I'm so pleased we both got through to the final," Lawrence gushed, once he had finished with his lipstick. I smiled at him. "I was really worried that I wouldn't make it."

"You were always going to get through," I said reassuringly.

A man of about thirty walked passed our compartment in the corridor, stopping to look in for rather longer than he needed.

"Do you think there will be any dresses for me in this shop?" Lawrence asked.

"I should think so," I replied, remembering the rows upon rows of formal dresses for hire in the back. The availability or otherwise of the dresses was the least of my concerns; I was more worried about the price I would have to pay.

Over Lawrence's head, I noticed the man walk past again, this time in the opposite direction. As he reached our compartment his eyes met mine with a challenge, and then he walked past again.

"It was really so bad of that Chrissie to ruin my dress!" Lawrence exclaimed, shaking his head. "I can't see why she did it."

"She's got some sort of feud going with Anita," I explained. "She probably thought it was mine, and she ruined it to get at her."

Lawrence thought about this for a while, and eventually nodded. "I suppose that would explain it. Mind you, that Peter she's entered looks really good doesn't he? I think he might win, don't you?"

I nodded. Peter certainly looked attractive enough to win, although the thing that stuck most in my mind about him was the deeply unhappy look on his face. If Lawrence was a natural as a girl, Peter, although looking just as good, seemed very much less comfortable with the concept.

The man in the corridor reappeared at the door of our compartment, stopped for a moment, and then came in.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked.

I shook my head, and rather than sitting in the diagonally opposite corner from us, he sat directly opposite me, with his knees barely a foot or so from mine. Instinctively I pulled the hem of my skirt down a little. All those lessons in not showing my knickers were standing me in good stead now.

"Are you going to the disco on Saturday?" Lawrence asked, obviously deciding not to let the interloper stop our conversation.

"I don't know," I replied. "I might have to work Saturday, and if I do, I'll probably be too tired to go out."

"Well I think I'm going," Lawrence went on. "Tania said she wants me to, although I suppose I'd better ask Maxine if she minds."

"I shouldn't think she would," I responded.
"Well," he began, with the air of a confessional, "I sort of said I'd go out with her on Saturday as well."

"Oh," I replied, rather blandly.

"I wouldn't want to upset her."

"Shouldn't you two be at school then?" the man opposite suddenly asked us. I looked from Lawrence to him. He was wearing faded blue jeans, and a thick jumper, rather too thick for the time of year. "I'm supposed to tell the police about children who skip school," he went on. "It's naughty. Are you naughty girls then?"

I looked at him contemptuously, while Lawrence shuffled nervously by my side. "We've got permission to be out," I explained.

"Can I see it then?" he asked, leaning forward. His breath smelt of stale food, and I felt my lips curl in disgust.

"No," I replied curtly, and turned to face Lawrence again. His face was contorted with fear, and he glared at the man rather than me.

"What are you going to wear on Saturday if you go then?" I asked him. He quickly turned to face me again.

"What?"

"I said, what will you wear on Saturday if you go to the disco?"

Lawrence shook his head to rearrange his thoughts. "I don't know yet. I'm sure I'll be able to find out something." He still looked worried by the presence of the man. Obviously there was some concern that he had somehow seen through our disguises, but from the way he was acting, I felt sure he thought we were real girls.

"I think you are naughty girls!" the man suddenly declared, in his toneless drawl. I threw him another look of contempt, and tried to think of what to say to Lawrence to indicate complete disinterest. "Naughty, naughty girls!" the man continued, shaking his head as he did so. His eyes had become brighter, and his mouth contorted into something resembling a smile.

Tilting my head slightly upwards in what I thought was a superior way, I turned to face Lawrence again. "What colour do you call that lipstick?" I asked, thinking this was a typical thing one schoolgirl might say to another.

Lawrence was still flustered. "Um, it's fuchsia," he stuttered. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," I replied, firmly, still aware of the man opposite, who was staring at us like a man possessed. "It's really nice."

"I know what naughty girls like!" the man announced, with a sickening certainty, leaning forwards towards us. "I do!"

"Well as we're not naughty girls that's not really all that relevant." I said as calmly as I could muster. This man was obviously some sort of lunatic.

"Perhaps we ought to go and sit somewhere else," Lawrence suggested nervously.

"No, we were here first." I snapped.

The man leered a smile at me again, and his hands went down to his flies.

"Oh my God!" whimpered Lawrence, linking his arm with mine, and pushing me back towards the window.

The man undid his zip, and placed his hand inside. Lawrence screamed and buried his head into my shoulder.

"I've got something for you to see," the man told us, pulling out the object in question. "Do you like it?"

Lawrence squealed again, and I felt myself flushing deeply. I shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really, it's a bit small." I said. It was anything but, with its thick veins running down towards its head. "My brother's is bigger than that, and he's only twelve."

Lawrence glanced towards the man briefly, and screamed again. I looked out of the window, hoping to appear totally unfazed by what was going on.

"Do you want to play with it?" the man suggested, flipping it up and down.

"I don't think so thank you," I replied without looking at him.

Suddenly the door to the compartment opened, and a plump middle-aged woman stood in the doorway. The man quickly readjusted himself as she looked around the carriage.

"Do you mind if I sit in here?" she asked, smiling sweetly at me. I nodded, and she sat herself down on the opposite side to Lawrence and I, with a small gap between her and the flasher.

The man hesitated a few moments, and then stood up. "I'll see you girls another day," he muttered, and left the compartment and went out of sight.

"Oh my God that was horrible!" gasped Lawrence. "I didn't think that sort of thing really happened on trains."

The woman looked at us with concern. "I was sitting in the compartment next door," she explained. "I heard a few screams, and thought I'd come and see if there was anything going on."

"Oh thank you!" enthused Lawrence. "That man tried to show us his willy!"

The woman shook her head. "I thought it was something like that. There's lots of strange sorts in this world I'm afraid my dears, you just have to be careful."

"Yes," I agreed. "Thank you."

"That's all right," she said brightly. "Us girls have to stick together don't we?"

I smiled in response, and rather belatedly, Lawrence let go of my arm, and sat himself up straight. I rubbed where his nails had dug into my flesh, and gave him a look of despair.

"But you were so brave Sarah!" he suddenly announced. "I was really frightened!"

I shrugged in response. "Well you shouldn't let them know you're scared."

"That's entirely right," the woman offered. "I think they only do it to get some sort of response. I know it's difficult, but it's best to try and stay calm and pay as little attention as you can to them." She smiled at me knowingly, and I smiled back.

"I think it's really creepy," Lawrence offered, "we didn't lead him on or anything did we Sarah?"

"No," I agreed.

"You don't always have to," the woman explained, "it's just enough to be a girl and to be there for some of them."

If only she knew, I thought to myself, or more to the point, if only he had known. Still, if he had known we were really boys dressed up like girls it might have made it worse for us. He could easily have turned violent and decided to beat us up.

"Men can be such animals," the woman continued sympathetically, "They're not like us you know."

I thought of Sylvia, waiting in her shop ready to pounce on the misfortunes of Lawrence and me; I wasn't so sure the woman in the train was entirely right, but I smiled a sort of agreement.

"Some people say it's because you girls wear such short skirts these days," the woman went on, "but I disagree. I think it's nice that girls can wear the things they like. You shouldn't have to be ashamed of your body, still less hide it because there's some creeps in the world."

"That's right!" exclaimed Lawrence in agreement. "I wouldn't mind if boys wore really short shorts or something."

"Or even skirts," I felt myself compelled to add.

"No," agree Lawrence, casting me an amused glance. "They could even wear skirts, I wouldn't mind."

The woman smiled at us. "Well I'm not sure I can see that happening, but I know what you mean. I bet that if the boys in your school wore short skirts, you wouldn't try and molest them would you?"

"No," Lawrence and I both agreed emphatically.

"Well there you go then!" the woman announced triumphantly. "It's all their fault, not ours."

The train reached its destination, and we left, saying our goodbyes and thanks to the woman, who bustled off in the opposite direction. I looked around nervously for the man who had flashed himself at us, but he seemed to have disappeared. I hoped that he had got off at the intervening station, my hometown, but then had a flash of worry that he might at some stage in the future recognise me. I shook my head; that seemed unlikely, I had certainly never seen him before.

The flasher incident, and then teasing the woman on the train had taken my mind off the task we had embarked on. Standing outside the station with Lawrence, and looking down the High Street in the direction of Sylvia's Boutique brought it right back home to me however. I breathed deeply to try and gain some composure and strength; my bra held my ribcage firm to remind me of my feminine state, but closing my eyes for a second, I resolved to see the thing through.

"Come on then Lucy," I said; there were several people milling around the station entrance, and I thought Lawrence would be an inappropriate name to use at that point.

"Let's go and see what we can do."

We walked the short distance down the High Street towards Sylvia's shop. There were less people around than on the Saturday, but the street was far from empty. I regretted that I hadn't brought a handbag with me. Striding down the street with my arms hanging loose, especially next to Lawrence, with his tan coloured bag, made me feel a little self-conscious. I folded my arms in front of me under my bust in an attempt to look realistically girlish.

"Nice tits," a spotty looking boy in a white overall commented as we walked by.

"Why are people so obsessed with my tits!"? I spat, as we walked on down the street. Lawrence cast me a worried look. We were nearing the shop now, and I could see the window display at an angle to us. As we approached, Sylvia herself came out of the shop, and shut the door behind her. She took a key from her bag, and made to lock the door.

"Sylvia!" I said, to attract her attention. She looked languidly around and her eyes met mine. There was no sign of recognition for a moment, but, as we came nearer, her face broke into a smile.

"It's Sarah isn't it?" she said lightly. I nodded. "I wondered if you'd come back and see me." Her eyes moved on to Lawrence, who was now standing beside me. "And you've brought a little friend." She appraised him up and down. "He's far too pretty to be a girl," she announced brightly. "So he must be another pretty little boy like you." She smiled sickeningly at us.

I tried to hush her. There were other people in the street walking up and down, and much as they seemed completely uninterested in our conversation, it was always possible that one of them would hear. Lawrence was blushing, and as far as I could tell, trembling a little.

"Well nice as it is to see you," she went on, "I'm just off to lunch. I'd love to invite you along, but," she hesitated. "It's a licensed place, so I'm not sure they'd allow you in."

She turned back to the door, and put the key in the lock. I hesitated for a moment, and then said. "Sylvia, we need your help."

"My help?" she echoed, unhelpfully, and turned the key to lock the door.

"Yes," I went on. "We need to borrow one of your dresses."

She turned to look at me, and smiled. "Well, if you come back at about half past two, I should be back by then."

I bit my lip. Half past two would be far too late to allow us to get back to school for the final. "It's urgent," I managed to say, looking at my feet. "Today's the day of the contest, and Lucy here hasn't got a dress for the final."

Sylvia's eyes turned lazily towards Lawrence; she looked him up and down for a while again, and then said. "Well that's a shame." She put the key back into her bag, and smiled again. "Well I'll be off then."

"Wait!" I said pleadingly, and standing in her way. "We need to have it now to be able to get back in time."

She stared down at me from her height, and shook her head. "Well you should really have thought of it earlier my dears. Like I told you, I'm going for my lunch."

"But can't it wait just a little bit?" I pleaded again.

She tilted her head to one side. "You don't know much about business do you young lady? I might be prepared to delay my lunch if there was some money involved, but as far as I remember, you weren't going to pay for any hire were you?"

She stood tall in front of me, her ample bosom in my face. I shuddered as an unwanted memory of her hand between my legs came back to me. "Well I was thinking of perhaps working for you, like we said when I came in before."

She looked down on me again. "Working for me?" she echoed again. "Ah yes, I remember. You were going to be my shop girl on a Saturday, that was it, wasn't it?"

I nodded, without lifting my face to look in hers.

"For five weeks wasn't it?" she went on.

"No!" I found myself saying without thinking. I looked up into her face, which was smiling evilly down at me. I decided to go on with my protest. "It was three. And that was only if I had the stockings and suspenders as well, so just for the dress, it would be two," I continued in a mumble.

Sylvia thought about this for a while. "Two Saturdays? Well, that's not really enough to make me give up my lunch hour." She moved to the side to get past me.

"Please Sylvia," I said. "We're desperate."

She stopped and turned back to me, with a knowing smile on her face. "Desperate are you? Then you'd better think of a better offer." She stared at me, daring me to say some more.

I hesitated to do so. "Well I'll work for the five weeks then." I said eventually.

Sylvia looked at me long and hard. "That would be fine," she said, "Normally. But I should get double time for giving up my lunch hour you know."

I bit my lip again. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the next ten Saturdays working as a shop girl, especially with Sylvia. I looked across at Lawrence, who had an anxious look on his face. If I refused, then he was out of the contest, all because of Chrissie and her gang.

"Well make up your mind," urged Sylvia, looking at her watch as she stood there. "I'm wasting my lunch time already."

I closed my eyes, and thought of myself in a black pencil skirt, with a crisp white blouse showing off my bra. I shuddered.

"And when I come to think of it," Sylvia went on, still smiling, "Christmas is my busiest period. That's when I really need an extra shop girl; especially on Saturdays."
My mouth opened in horror. I had just been on the point of agreeing to spend ten weeks as a Saturday shop girl, and now that expectation had at least doubled.

"Don't do it Steve," urged Lawrence in a whisper. "It means spending every Saturday from now until Christmas dressed as a girl!"

I looked at him in his blonde wig, fully made up, and with a girl's school uniform on. It seemed absurd that a boy dressed like that should urge me to not dress up as a girl. I looked back to Sylvia, who was staring at me, daring me to agree. I held my breath for a moment. "All right. I'll work for you every Saturday until Christmas, if you can sort Lucy here out with a nice dress."

Sylvia's face broke into a broad smile. "Well I think I can probably help," she said, walking back towards us, and taking the shop keys back out of her bag. "And we can sort you out a nice uniform as well, while you're waiting."

She strolled past the two of us purposefully, and unlocked the shop door. Opening it, she turned and smiled to us, beckoning us to follow. Lawrence's eyes caught mine; there was genuine concern in them. "Come on," I said encouragingly. "She doesn't bite, and she's got some lovely frocks out the back." Lawrence smiled nervously back, and we both entered through the door.

It was dark inside the shop; Sylvia had gone behind the till, and after a moment, switched the lights on. I was struck again by the smell of fresh clothes emanating from the racks upon racks of tops and skirts.

"Can you make sure the sign on the door says 'Closed'?" Sylvia asked. Lawrence did not move, so I retraced our steps a bit, and checked that the sign did indeed indicate that the shop was shut. "Is it all right?" Sylvia asked from behind the counter.

"Yes," I responded.

"Good; come on through then girls."

She walked through into the changing rooms at the back, and Lawrence and I followed on. We were soon in the room I remembered so well from the previous Saturday. Sylvia had opened the back room to the hire dresses, and was standing by it.

"You'd best have this," she said, handing me a long black skirt with a thin pinstripe. I recognised it as being like the one Sue wore to work in the shop. "You'd best try it on while I sort your pretty little friend out a dress." She smiled at me, and looked over to Lawrence, who was looking concerned.

"He'll need a pink one," I blurted.

"Pink?" she echoed, looking back at me with an expression of near contempt.

"Yes," I continued. "He's got shoes to match pink, and we've worked his make up out that way as well."

Sylvia looked at me quizzically. "I see," she said at length. "Well, I'm sure we've got one or two that might fit the bill. Come along Lucy dear, come and see what we've got."

She held her hand out for Lawrence to come forward. He took a couple of faltering steps forward, and then turned to look at me. "It's all right," I said, "I'll be in here. If you get worried or anything," I went on, looking Sylvia in the eyes, "shout out or something."

"Okay," Lawrence replied meekly, and walked over to Sylvia. She glared at me for what I had said.

"And you can try on that skirt. I like my shop girls to be neat."

They both went through to the cavernous back room with all the hire dresses in. Sylvia shut the door behind her with a purpose, as if to say that I wouldn't be able to save Lawrence from her, if she took it into her head to attack him. I reasoned that if she did, and he called out, I would at least be able to open the door again. I looked at the skirt in my hands. It was a lot longer than I was used to. All the skirts I had worn so far had been short, this was going to reach down well below my knees, almost to my ankles in fact.

Putting my arms behind me, I undid my school skirt, and wiggled it down my legs, and stepped out of it. I carefully picked it up, and put it onto one of the benches. I stopped, and listened to see if I could hear anything from the other room. I could hear Sylvia's voice droning, but I could not make out any of the individual words. Suddenly I heard Lawrence's voice, "Oh that's exactly the same!" he exclaimed. "It would be wonderful if I could have that." Then there was silence again. I guessed that so far at least, he wasn't in any particular trouble.

Carefully, I stepped into the new skirt, and pulled it up over my boots and knees. It was a tight fit, but I managed to pull it up over my slip, and onto my hips. I struggled to find the zip, which was at the side. I pulled it up, and went to look at myself in the mirror.

I looked carefully at myself, turning from side to side, and smoothing the skirt down at the back. My slip had bunched up a little, putting a few lumps and bumps across the bottom. It occurred to me that I would probably have to wear a longer slip than the tiny one I had on at the time with a longer skirt. The boots too didn't look quite right with it; a bit clumpy. Maybe if I had a simple pair of black shoes with a small or medium heel it would look better.

In spite of all this, I was impressed with how elegant and smart I looked. Short skirts were all very well to show off your legs, but there was something rather classy about the way I looked which impressed me. The skirt had a little slit in the back, which made it easy to walk, but apart from that, hung close to me from the waist right down to somewhere half way between my ankles and my knees.

I pulled myself up suddenly. What was I doing? How could I possibly stand in front of a mirror, as I was doing, admiring myself in a skirt, and thinking about what shoes and underwear to wear with it! I shook my head; all this practicing was really beginning to get to me. I had actually thought I looked smart in a skirt! I was a boy, I shouted to myself in my mind; boys did not wear skirts, or if they did, they did not like it, and they did not think they looked smart. While I was admonishing myself in this way, I turned sideways a little, and was impressed by how slim the skirt made me look.

The door to the storage room suddenly burst open, and Lawrence rushed in with a beaming smile. "Look Steve!" he gushed. "We've found one exactly the same as the one I had before!" He held out a pink gauzy dress towards me. It had some white lace detail, and as far as I could tell, he was right. It was identical to the one Tania had leant him. That would be ideal as far as the accessorisation went, as long as it fit him.

"You'd best try it on," I suggested.

"I'm going to!" he replied, enthusiastically, and began taking his school uniform off item by item.

Sylvia came to the door to see how he was getting on. "I think it will fit you Lucy darling," she drawled, and then looked at me. "Well that doesn't look too bad Sarah," she said, with a hint of compliment. "Quite smart in fact." She stepped through into the changing room to see me more clearly, and I felt myself blush. It flashed into my head that another advantage of wearing a longer skirt was that it would make it much harder for her to put her hand up it.

She circled me, examining me closely. I felt her eyes on every inch of me as an uncomfortable sensation of vulnerability swept through me. I decided to try and wrest the initiative. "These boots don't really go with it. And I'll need a longer slip and a blouse." I said, as calmly as I could. She did not respond. Lawrence was entirely lost in the pleasure of trying on the dress, and ignored us both.

"I agree," she said eventually. "Proper shoes, proper slip, and a proper blouse. Then you'll be my proper perfect little shop girl."

I blushed even deeper. "You'll have to get them for me," I blurted. There was no way I was going to spend my own money buying clothes for her fantasy.

"Get them for you?" she spluttered. "I don't know about that. I'll give you a bit of money to get them, but I expect you to be wearing them on Saturday for your first day here."

I shuddered at the thought of this. Somehow I was going to have to buy myself a long slip, a pair of shoes and a white blouse before Saturday, just so I could continue being Sarah for this old crow.

She continued to circle me. "You look very nice," she purred. "You've got nice legs, but sometimes it's better to hide them and hint about how sexy they are than to show them."

She was by now in front of me, and rather too close for my comfort. "What I like best of all," she said, in a stage whisper, "Is how comfortable you seem as a girl." She grinned wildly at me. "On Saturday you seemed quite reluctant to show off your feminine side, now you're looking much more at ease about it."

"I don't know about that," I mumbled.

"Oh but you are Sarah," she exclaimed. "And look," she went on, pointing to the front of my skirt. "You're just so smooth down there, nothing poking out at all!"

Having looked in the mirror, I knew she was right, but this just made her observations even worse.

"Even people who have been girls since birth jut out a bit you know; but you're so girly that there's no hint of anything. It's lovely." Her eyes pierced into mine, and I felt my knees trembling a little.

Lawrence coughed politely. "Would either of you be able to help me do this up?" he asked as sweetly as he could.

"I will," I said, before Sylvia could offer, and began walking over to my friend. Sylvia put a hand on my shoulder to stop me. I dared not look up into her face.

"I'll do it Sarah," she breathed, and, dropping her hand again, ambled over to Lawrence. I was too frightened to object, and stood watching her for a moment, as she went around to his back, and began to zip him into his pink frock. He had been right. It was the identical dress to the one Chrissie had ruined back at school, and he looked as beautiful in it as he had in the original. Once it was done up, he skipped over to one of the mirrors to admire himself. Sylvia smiled benevolently at him.

"Oh I'm so lucky!" he gasped. "It's exactly the same dress, and even the right size."

"It does suit you," Sylvia told him, encouragingly.

Lawrence adjusted the white lace around his shoulders. "I don't want my bra straps to show," he explained. Sylvia smiled again.

"You enjoy being a girl too don't you?" she asked.

He turned to look at her, biting his bottom lip. "Well it's better than I thought it might be," he confessed. "I like wearing stuff like this anyway."

"I'm sure you do," Sylvia said encouragingly, smiling at him all the time.

He turned this way and that, looking at himself in the mirror. I was shocked momentarily by how girly he was behaving, and then remembered that a few moments before, I had been doing more or less the same in my new long skirt.

"Oh I'd love to have it!" he gasped. "But it seems so unfair that Steve has to be the shop girl to pay for it."

Sylvia looked at him carefully. "Well I'd love to have you as one of my shop girls as well Lucy," she said. "But you're not really old enough are you?"

Lawrence looked down at the ground, and shook his head.

"Well that's all there is too it. You're lucky to have such a good friend as Sarah who's prepared to do this for you."

"I know!" he said, smiling gratefully at me.

I cringed. This was it then, I was condemned to being Sylvia's shop girl for the next six months; condemned to spending every Saturday dressed as a girl, being Sarah and not Steve. I'd only been dressing as a girl since the previous Saturday, a mere five days before, and already it was affecting my behaviour. I shuddered to think what dressing as Sarah for six months might do to me. Perhaps Nikki and Anita had been right; once you put on a skirt you were never the same again. It certainly had begun to seem plausible to me.

"Well I'm pleased we've found what you wanted," I managed to say. "We'd best start thinking about getting back to school though, otherwise we'll miss the final."

"Yes," Sylvia agreed, rather to my surprise. "And I need to get off and have my lunch. Come on girls, get those things off, and I can shut up shop again."

She shut the door to the storage room, and walked back through the curtain into the shop. She wasn't even going to watch us change, which surprised me even more. I walked over to Lawrence, and undid his zip for him, and then undid my own, and removed the tight skirt. I folded it carefully, and found my school skirt, and stepped back into it, did it up, and then straightened it out. I put my hand up to pull my slip down, and looked into the mirror to check that I was happy with the result. I looked all right; slightly sassy in a provocative way, but that was just the effect of the school uniform itself.

Lawrence was taking a little longer to get back to being a schoolgirl, so I looked at myself again in the mirror. Was Sylvia right, was I really comfortable being a girl? Of course not, I told myself, as I tidied up my bunches, straightening the ribbons that held them out from my head. It was a ridiculous idea, I was a boy and proud of it, I asserted to myself, as I straightened my wayward tights. And what was all that about me not jutting out at the front? I turned sideways to see myself in profile; well of course I didn't jut out; no one would with a slip, two pairs of knickers and a pair of tights to hold them in. Anyway, it was just as well, as I was spending so much time in public dressed as a girl these days, I didn't even want to jut out. I looked at my face, and saw that I was pouting petulantly in time with my thoughts. I'm not comfortable being a girl at all, I told myself, as I wondered whether my lipstick needed refreshing.

"All right then Steve?" Lawrence asked me suddenly, shocking me back into the real world. "Shall we get back then?"

He had put his dress back into one of those huge plastic bags, and was holding it in his arms. He looked at me expectantly. "Yes," I agreed. "Come on."

We walked back through into the shop, where Sylvia was waiting impatiently by the door. "At last!" she exclaimed. "You two really are girls, judging by how long it takes you to get ready."

Ignoring this jibe, we walked through the darkened shop towards the counter where Sylvia waited. "Right, we're all set then are we?" she asked. "I'll see you at half past eight on Saturday morning Sarah, bright eyed and bushy tailed!" I cringed at her enthusiasm. "Where's your skirt?" she suddenly asked me.

I looked down at myself. "I'm wearing it," I replied.

"Not that one! The pencil skirt I gave you to try on!"

I looked at her. "I left it in the changing room."

"Oh for heaven's sake!" she exclaimed. "It's no good in there is it? You'll be needing it on Saturday for work!"

"But can't I just put it on when I get here?"

"Certainly not! I want you properly dressed before as you arrive. I don't have my shop girls changing at work!"

This was going from bad to worse. Not only was I going to have to spend Saturday dressed as Sarah, and working in Sylvia's shop, but now she was insisting that somehow I arrive already dressed.

"Well go and get it then!" Sylvia said, with a note of exasperation in her voice.

I turned around and went back to the changing room. The skirt was on the bench where I had left it. I picked it up carelessly, and went back into the shop.

"Well you could at least have folded it properly!" Sylvia scolded. "You'll need to iron it now. Give it here, I'll put it in a bag for you."

She snatched the skirt off me, and reaching beneath the counter, pulled out a plastic bag and put the skirt into it. "That's better," she said. "Right, now perhaps I can go and have my lunch."

I hesitated for a moment, and then decided to say, "You were going to give me some money; to buy a slip and some shoes."

She glared at me momentarily. "Very well," she said at length, and opened the till which made a bleeping noise. "Here, take this."

She handed me two twenty-pound notes. I was astonished. This was as much money as I had ever held in my hand.

"Well you'd best put it away," she went on. "You don't want to lose it, or have it stolen do you?"

I immediately regretted again that I hadn't had the foresight to bring a handbag with me. Struggling for inspiration, I suddenly decided to slip my hand down my jumper, and put the money in with the socks in my bra.

Sylvia looked at me with a curious expression on her face. "Just like a stripper," she muttered to herself. "Now come on, let's go, I need a drink."

She stood to one side while Lawrence and I walked past her, and out of the door. Without any further ado, she came out behind us and locked it. "Well I'll see you on Saturday then Sarah. Oh, and best of luck with the contest, both of you."

"Thank you," Lawrence replied, sweetly, although I said nothing. Then she was gone, off in the opposite direction towards the King's Arms Pub.

We stood for a while, just looking at each other. "That was a bit tarty, slipping the money into your bra!" Lawrence told me, with a look of mild amusement on his face.

"Come on," I said. "We'd best get back to the station and see if we can get a train back to school in time for the final."

"Oh I hope we can!"

In the event we managed to get on the train in plenty of time. We picked a compartment and sat ourselves down, this time facing each other. Lawrence put his dress down on the seat next to him, while I put the bag with the skirt in on the floor. Shortly, the train pulled away. It was half past one; we would get back to school at about two o'clock, which would give us plenty of time to get ready for the contest.

"I hope we don't get any more strange blokes coming in to join us," Lawrence said, his eyes wide, "That was horrible wasn't it?"

"Yes," I agreed, remembering the incident.

"But you were so cool about it!" Lawrence went on. "I was terrified!"

"Well he probably wasn't that dangerous, just pathetic." I reasoned.

Lawrence was silent for a minute or so, but seemed to have something on his mind. He kept looking over to me for a few seconds, and then back out of the window. I decided to break the silence for him. "You were really lucky to get the same dress," I offered.

"Yes!" he responded enthusiastically. "Still, I've got a feeling Tania told me she bought it from there in the first place, a year or so ago."

"Oh I see," I replied.

"That Sylvia's quite nice, once you get to know her," he offered.

"Nice?" I said, with disbelief in my voice. "She's horrible; a right weirdo."

"Oh that's not fair! She was saying all sorts of nice things about you when we were looking at the dresses."

This made me worried. "Like what?" I asked.

"Well, like how she thought you were really getting used to being a girl."

I thought about this. "Well that's not very nice."

"Well she meant it nicely. She said that she wished she could find some way to help you get used to it, seeing as it suited you so much."

I felt myself blushing, and looked out of the window. "Her idea of getting me used to it would probably mean getting a pretend willy and poking it into me somewhere"

I looked back to Lawrence. His mouth was open in shock. "Steve! How could you say such a thing?" Then he giggled. "Do you think she'd do that then?"

"Probably," I replied. "She's really odd."

Lawrence leant forward conspiratorially towards me. "I sometimes wonder if Max would like to do that," he whispered, "she keeps wanting us to go all the way." He paused for a moment to check that the corridor outside the carriage was empty, and then continued. "But she likes me to be the girl when we're together."

I was startled. I was completely unused to discussing other people's sex lives, except in the context of blokes telling each other how many girls they'd managed to sleep with in one afternoon or something similar. I didn't know how to respond.

"I've let her," he hesitated for a moment, "touch me, but I'm not sure I want to go all the way with her just yet."

"Well you shouldn't let her force you into anything you don't want to do." I found myself saying, as if it was wisdom.

"Oh she wouldn't force me," he told me, shaking his head. "She's really gentle. It's just that, well, she's seventeen. I suppose she thinks she's entitled to do stuff."

I looked at him carefully. Was this some sort of elaborate wind up? Looking at his eager and intense eyes staring out at me from under his blonde hair, I doubted it.

"Well you're only fourteen," I pointed out. "Technically it would be illegal if you did."

"I know," he exclaimed. "That's what I told her too. But she said no one need find out."

I was running out of wisdom now, other than what I had seen on televisions sitcoms. "Well it's up to you really. You'll know if you're ready, and if she's the right one."

He seemed satisfied with this, and smiled warmly at me. "You're so right Steve. You're a good friend!"

We both returned to looking at the countryside racing by outside the window. We passed my hometown station, and the train trundled on towards the town with our school. The sun was shining now, and the grass in the fields was green. A few cows and sheep grazed lazily in little clumps here and there, and the river glistened brightly as it meandered its way along the valley.

In no time at all we were at the station. We got off the train, made our way through the ticket barrier, and began the walk up to school. There were quite a few students coming and going along the road as we walked, and many of them gave us strange looks. I was perturbed. It was possible that some of them recognised us as candidates from the contest that morning, but the number of looks we were getting made me think that this was not likely to be the sole reason. I quickly checked myself up and down, and looked across at Lawrence as well. We looked no less girly than we had ever done, and other than the fact that Lawrence was carrying a huge dress bag, there seemed to be nothing untoward. Our skirts hadn't ridden up, and our wigs were still in place.

"Very nice!" one girl I did not know said, as she passed us heading in the opposite direction. "Very realistic too!"

How did she know that we were boys dressed as girls? No one else had ever guessed or seen through our pretence. Then it dawned on me. We looked like perfect teenage schoolgirls in our uniforms, walking along the road as we were. But today was a non-uniform day; we were probably the only people in the school wearing girl's school uniform that day, no wonder we were being clocked as boys!

I cringed as another group of girls walked by, smiling knowingly at us. "We're coming back for the final!" one of them shouted to us. I couldn't wait to get us back to the relative safety of the hall.

Anita was waiting for us by the school gate. "Oh my God, I'm pleased to see you two!" she exclaimed. "I wondered if you were going to make it back in time."

I was immediately cross that she doubted my ability to carry through what I had set out to do. "We had it under control," I snapped. "We knew what the time was."

"And did you manage to get a dress for Lawrence?" she went on, oblivious to my anger.

"Yes!" exclaimed Lawrence. "We were really lucky! They had one exactly the same. It's even more or less the same size, so we're no worse off."

Anita smiled at him. "Good," she said, and then turned to me. "But how about paying for it? Are you going to have to work in there?"

I looked downwards disconsolately. "Yes," I replied softly.

"Well at least it's only for a couple of weeks," Anita said.

I was silent. Lawrence looked at her, and then at me. "It's not," he said. "He's going to have to work in there until Christmas."

"Christmas!" exclaimed Anita. "But that's months away Steve! Are you sure you want to be Sarah every Saturday until then?"

"I haven't got much choice," I muttered. "Not if we wanted Lawrence to have a dress for this afternoon."

"But that seems excessive," Anita went on. "She was only on about two or three weeks on Saturday when we went there. Why did she suddenly make it so long?"

I shrugged. "Well she had us over a barrel I suppose."

Anita shook her head. "Poor Steve. Still, I'll do what I can to help."

"What do you mean?" I asked her, sort of hoping that she would volunteer to do some of the shifts in the shop.

"Well, I can help you out with some of the stuff you'll need, but thinking about it, there's some sort of uniform isn't there?"

Crestfallen, I replied, "Yes."

"Well you won't need any clothes anyway."

"He'll need underwear. And Sylvia's given him some money for a slip and some shoes." Lawrence butted in.

"A slip?" said Anita, seeking some sort of clarification.

I hesitated. "Yes. This one's a bit short to go with the uniform skirt."

"Yes I suppose it would be," Anita said thoughtfully. "But you can count on me for all the knickers and tights you'll need; and bras," she added brightly. "But come on, we'd best get back to the hall. We've got to get you ready for three."

We walked back into the school, and along one of the corridors back to the hallway. It was more or less deserted, except for a couple of groups sitting in the auditorium talking to each other, and eating sandwiches.

"Have you said anything to Chrissie?" Lawrence asked.

"There's no point," Anita said bitterly. "She'd only deny it was her. The best way to get our own back is to shock her by making sure Steve's actually there for the final, and then wins it!"

We walked across the hall to the girls changing rooms on the opposite side. The door was open, and we went through. There were a couple of the contestants in there with their helpers, and, on the far wall, Nikki and Tania were sitting, guarding the remaining dress with arms folded.

"Hi!" Nikki exclaimed, standing as we walked across. "You made it back. Good."

"And did you get a dress?" asked Tania. Her eyes were still red from crying, but she was making an effort to look cheerful.

"Yes," I said, blandly.

"Oh Tania we did!" Lawrence burst out, holding the bag out in front of him. "It was wonderful, really lucky. It's the same as the one we had before, the same size even!"

"Let's have a look then," she said, and they both walked off to one side to examine the replacement dress.

"Is everything all right?" Nikki asked, seeing the glum look on my face.

"He's had to agree to work in Sylvia's shop," Anita explained. "Right around till Christmas."

"Till Christmas!" Nikki exclaimed. "That's half a year away!"

"I know," I said dolefully.

Nikki shook her head in sympathy. "Still, it's not all bad," she began. "It means that we don't have to say goodbye to Sarah any time soon."

"No," agreed Anita. "That's true. We can have lots of girls nights out, like we're going to have this Saturday!"

"Yes!" exclaimed Nikki. "And working Saturday's the best day really. It means you can come straight from the shop to Anita's or mine to get ready for a night on the town."

"Every Saturday!" suggested Anita, smiling brightly at the prospect.

"Yes!" agreed Nikki.

"Well I don't know about that," I mumbled. "Did anyone have any luck finding my boy's stuff by the way?"

They were silent for a moment, and looked at one another. "Yes," Nikki said eventually. "Tania found them."

They looked glum, but I was for the moment pleased. "Good," I said. "Well where are they? We need to make sure they don't get lost again."

There was another conspiratorial silence, then Anita said. "I don't think you'll want to wear them Steve," she said. "They were in the toilet. They're wringing wet, and absolutely filthy."

I stared at her in disbelief. "Oh no," I said.

"I'm afraid so Steve," she went on. "There's no way you'll be able to wear them home. You'll smell of poo if you do."

I had half expected this, but it was still a shock, especially after being told that they had been found. "So how am I going to get home?" I asked.

Anita looked at me sympathetically. "I'm not sure," she replied. Nikki shrugged as well.

"Well I'll have to come back to your place Anita and borrow a pair of your jeans or something," I blurted out in desperation, cringing inwardly at the thought of turning up in front of my parents dressed as a girl.

Anita looked down guiltily. "You can't do that," she said. "I'm going out with John this evening straight after the contest. He's picking me up here."
My mouth opened and shut, but no words came out. She was going out with John, on the very day that I had sacrificed my masculinity on for her. I could hardly believe it.

"You'll have to bite the bullet and go home dressed as a girl," Nikki said, rather unnecessarily. "You might be better going in the school uniform rather than the bridesmaid's dress, otherwise you'll attract too much attention on the train," she added, trying to be helpful.

I frantically racked my brain, trying to think of how I could get hold of some boy's clothes before going home. Lawrence came to mind, and then fell out again. He had come to school in the girl's school uniform, and in any case, was hardly my size. I could go back to Nikki's house perhaps, but there were no boy's clothes there. I thought about the other boy's at school, but none of them would have brought a spare set of clothing in with them. I was well and truly sunk.

"Well don't worry too much about it now," Anita said, "Come on, we need to get you ready for the final. We can think about how to get you home once we've won it!"

  

  

  

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