Neighbours

by Sarah Bayen

 

Part Two

 

The next morning was a little cloudier, and I stayed in bed until ten o'clock, tossing and turning, until my Mum lost patience with me, and shouted up the stairs for me to get up. Grumbling to myself, I did so, and had a leisurely breakfast before washing and going back upstairs to get dressed.

I was hardly finished when there was a knock on the door. I let my Mum answer it, but she almost immediately shouted up the stairs for me to come down. It had to be Katy, good. That meant she was ready to apologise for her behaviour the day before; to let me know that she had seen the error of her ways where the new boy was concerned, and that we could get back to normal. I had sort of planned to call for her once I was mobile and ready, but this was even better. She was making the first move, which meant that she acknowledged that I was right, and she was wrong. I bounded down the stairs with a smile on my face because of this.

My smile soon disappeared however; she was standing on the doorstep with bloody John! As soon as I appeared in their vision, she smiled at me, and said hi. The boy just looked sheepish and nervous by her side.

"What do you want?" I asked rather unfriendly, glaring at him, although he seemed to be looking nervously around the street outside, rather than at me.

"We wondered if you want to come along to the den this morning?" Katy asked, still brightly. "I was going to show John here the rest of the photos."

This was preposterous; didn't he ever take no for an answer? His big brown eyes met mine, and shot out their stupid 'like me' darts, but I knew I was immune. I sneered at him.

"He can't go back there unless he's wearing a skirt." I stated firmly, remembering how we had ended our battle of the previous day.

"I know that," Katy said quietly. "He's going to borrow one of mine, okay?" She held up a plastic bag, which obviously held some sort of clothing; I could see the indistinct shape of some material through the sides. "He's quite happy to pretend to be a girl for us, if that's what we want, as long as we're his friends."

I snorted at this; there was no way I was ever going to be friends with the boy who had stolen Andrea's house, however much he pretended to be a girl. His eyes still looked sorrowfully into mine.

"Why isn't he wearing it now then, if he's so keen?" I demanded, trying to think of some way to disqualify this latest effort of theirs.

Katy looked around the street, and leant forward to me to speak in a whisper. "He could have done," she confessed, "but we might have got into trouble if he did."

"What do you mean?" I asked her, refusing to whisper.

"Well," she continued, "if people saw him wearing a skirt, it'd be us that'd get into trouble wouldn't it? People would think we made him do it."

"But we did make him do it." I pointed out. "Or at least, if he was wearing one, we would have done."

"Yes," Katy went on. "But if that happened, we'd get told off, and he'd not be allowed be a girl any more would he?"

I was a little taken aback at the logic of this. It was entirely true. If he had turned up wearing a skirt just then, my Mum would have automatically blamed me. No matter that I had nothing to do with it, it would have been me that got the blame; that was always the way in our house.

"Well he's not going into the den until he's got it on," I stated baldly.

"I know!" Katy replied, still in her stage whisper. "He's going to put it on when we get there."

I thought about this. If I let him in the door, and then put a skirt on, it would invalidate my interdict. "It'll have to be outside," I said firmly.

"I know that," she said. "He won't go through the door until he's got it on, will you John?"

We both turned to look at him, and he shook his head, making his hair shake a little. His eyes looked up into mine again, and shot their darts.

I was still unsure. "Well I'm not convinced borrowing someone else's counts," I said petulantly. "If he's going to wear a skirt, it ought to be one of his own."

Katy threw her arms up in despair. "Oh don't be so pedantic Jen!" she told me. "If it's that important, I'll give it to him; permanently! There," she said, handing John the bag. "This is your skirt," she told him solemnly. "Satisfied?" she snapped, turning back to me.

I was hardly satisfied. I had been so confident that the boy would never agree to wear a skirt, that I had left Katy and him in the den where she could try and convince him. That was my mistake. If I had stayed there, and told him how pathetic he would be if he wore one; told him how it would make him a girl forever, then this would never have happened. As it was, Katy had probably told him it was just a little joke, and that skirts were quite comfortable or something.

Katy looked at me. "Well it's up to you whether you come or not," she stated. "John and I are going."

"Charlotte," I corrected her.

"All right, Charlotte then," she accepted. "We're going up to the den now. You can come along if you want. If you don't, I'll make sure he wears his skirt in there, so you've got nothing to worry about."

This was even worse! It was bad enough that a boy was going to invade the sanctuary of our den for a second time, but the thought of him doing it without me there to make his life a misery was too much.

"No, I'll come." I said, and went back inside to get my shoes, and tell my Mum we were going out. She said how pleased she was that we were taking the new boy under our wings and looking after him. If only she knew!

I strode purposefully ahead of Katy and the boy as we walked over the field to the little copse where our den was. All this land had once belonged to the farm that surrounded our little close, but, having sold one field to developers, the farmer seemed to have lost interest in this little corner of his estate. That was why we had managed to find the old shed in the middle of the trees, and, having taken ownership, put a padlock on the door without arousing any protests.

I reached the den well ahead of the other two, and decided to wait there, to give the boy one last chance to avoid his fate. I thought of all the times Andrea and I had spent here; the helpless laughter, the teasing of Katy and her stupid doll. Now, it seemed, she had got herself another little doll, this time made of flesh.

They eventually caught up with me, and stood in the clearing in front of the den. I stared at them, daring them to make the first move. "Well," said Katy at last. "Here we are then. Do you remember what I told you about how to put on a skirt?" she asked her companion.

"Yes," he said, hoarsely, not taking his eyes off of me. He was obviously embarrassed, good! I felt strangely powerful, knowing that he was about to deny his pathetic masculinity in such a strong symbolic way, just for me.

"And I presume you'll be satisfied that he's making the effort to pretend to be a girl once he's got it on?" she asked me.

I shrugged in response. "It depends," I said vaguely. "We'll have to see."

She looked up to the skies in despair. "Come on," she said to me. "Let's go in."

"He's not got his skirt on yet!" I protested.

"I know that," she said, pointedly. "But we ought to let him have a bit of privacy." She turned to face the boy. "Knock on the door when you've changed, and we'll let you in."

"Okay," he piped, standing stock still, and clasping the bag that held his skirt.

Katy pushed past me, and unfastened the padlock. With some reluctance, I followed her in.

"You're being really mean to him!" she said, turning to me in accusation as soon as the door was closed. "I think that once he's come in wearing the skirt, we should let him off, and stop all this nonsense about him pretending to be a girl."

"No," I replied stubbornly. "He's got to keep it up whenever he wants to come here."

"But why?" she asked me. "What's the point?"

I glared at her. "The point is to put him off! I don't want him in here, him or any other boys. It was always just you, me and Andrea, and I don't see why that should change."

"Andrea's gone," she reminded me.

"I know that," I snapped. "But that doesn't mean he should take her place."

She looked at me and shook her head. "He's not trying to take her place," she explained, with an irritating patience. "He's just trying to be our friend."

"I don't want him to be our friend!"

"Well you really are mean then!" she told me, hands on her hips, and pouting almost as much as he did. "He's really scared of you, you know; he told me so."

"So he should be."

"He thinks you don't like him."
"I don't."

"He very nearly didn't bother to come today. It took me a long time to persuade him to wear a skirt like you wanted."

I glared back at her. "Well you shouldn't have bothered. I'd have been happier if he had stayed away."

She sighed theatrically, and turned her back on me. I stuck my tongue out at her back, and then flumped down into one of the chairs, raising a cloud of dust. I picked up the magazine I had been reading the day before, and flipped over a few pages, waiting for what might happen next.

There was a weak knock on the door, so quiet, that if Katy and I hadn't been sullenly ignoring each other, we would have missed it.

"That'll be him," Katy announced unnecessarily, looking across at me. I shrugged, and went back to reading my magazine. I did look up as she opened the door however. I couldn't see him from where I was sitting, but I could see Katy's expression. Her eyes lit up in surprise, and her mouth fell open.

"Oh that looks good!" she exclaimed. "You've put it on just right!"

"Thanks," I heard him nervously pipe.

"Does it feel all right?"

"It feels a bit awkward, but I suppose I'm just not used to it."

She nodded towards him, and then leant through the door to give him a quick hug. I was nearly sick!

"Well come on in, and we'll finish looking through those photos," Katy said, standing to one side. I held my breath; this was it, the moment I had caused to happen. He had made himself look completely ridiculous, simply by trying to thwart me. That should teach him to try it again.

And then he stepped through the door. It was my turn to be open mouthed, as I stared at him in the doorway. He didn't look ridiculous at all, the damn thing suited him! It was powder blue, short, and pleated, and his legs, pale and hairless, but not too thin, looked good under it. He had tucked his white T-shirt carefully into the waistband, and was even wearing white trainers, not ideal, but not totally out of place. He looked at me, blushing furiously, with his big brown eyes crying out for acceptance. I tried to think of something hurtful to say, but nothing would come to my mouth.

"Come on in," Katy urged him. "He looks good, doesn't he Jen?"

I shrugged again, still speechless, and returned to my magazine. He had no right to look so good in a skirt, no right at all. They settled themselves down to look at the photo albums again, both lying on the floor. He settled himself carefully as he lay down, to make sure his skirt didn't reveal too much I supposed. Damn Katy for briefing him so well! How was he supposed to be embarrassed when he didn't even flash his underwear when he was in a skirt?

I tried to absorb myself in the magazine, but it was no use. Their chatter, and their giggles kept interrupting me. I hated them for it. Giggling in here was supposed to be for Andrea and me, not for them. He had lifted his legs off the floor from the knee, and was winding them together. Apart from his hair, from where I was sitting he looked every inch a girl, and the worst thing was, he didn't seem to care.

"Did either of you bring anything to drink?" I asked. I was feeling warm, and thirsty.

"No," Katy replied, looking across to me. "I didn't. What about you John?"

"His name is Charlotte!" I insisted, through gritted teeth.

She pulled a face. "Don't be so pedantic Jen; anyway, if you're so bothered about it, you should say her name is Charlotte, not his name. It was you who said we had to treat him as a girl after all."

I glared at her, cross with myself for making this mistake. She stuck her tongue out at me, which did nothing to improve my mood. "All right," I snapped. "Her name! Anyway, has she brought anything to drink?" I saw his back twitch as I called him 'she', and felt better. Maybe he wasn't as comfortable with this charade as he seemed.

"No, I'm sorry," he said quietly without looking around. "I'll bring one tomorrow."

I glared at him, although his face was still turned away from me. "Oh so you think you'll be coming here again tomorrow do you?" I asked, with a sneer on my face.

At last he looked around, with sorrowful brown eyes looking beseechingly at me. "I hope so," he said, rather pathetically. "I'm pretending the best I can, and I'll wear a skirt again of course."

"Yes you will," I retorted. "You'll wear a skirt every time you come in here, if you ever come in here again." His face looked even more hurt and sorrowful at this, and I felt a thrill of pleasure at his discomfort, although I tried to hide it from my face. "We'll have a think at the end of today, and decide whether you're good enough at pretending to be a girl to be allowed back."

"That's not very fair Jen," Katy protested on his behalf. "He's letting you call him Charlotte, and he's wearing a skirt."

I smiled at her. "You mean she's wearing a skirt," I corrected her.

"All right," she replied, conceding the point. "She's wearing a skirt."

He twitched again, this time more markedly. Obviously Katy calling him a 'she' had more effect than me doing it.

"But whatever," Katy went on. "She's doing everything you wanted to pretend to be a girl. You should be pleased."

Her eyes flashed at me in anger. I glared back at her. "Well like I said," I responded at last, in as reasonable a voice as I could muster. "We'll think about it at the end of today's visit, and see whether she's been convincing enough as a girl to qualify to come again."

Katy's mouth thinned, and she shook her head. I went back to pretending to read the magazine, and the two of them went back to looking through the photographs. I gritted my teeth as I heard them giggling at some of the pictures, and flicked the pages of the magazine with venom to make sure they remembered I was still there. This quietened them for a time, but they soon resumed their chattering and laughter.

"Oh God, is that the time!" I suddenly heard John exclaim. He got up to his knees, and smiled at Katy. "I told my Mum I'd be home for lunch, and it's gone one o'clock."

"It can't be!" Katy exclaimed. "We haven't been here two hours have we?"

He nodded enthusiastically in reply.

"Well there's still more to see. Do you want to come back this afternoon?"

"I can't," he told her. "We're going down town to buy some furniture or something."

"Oh what a drag!" Katy exclaimed, and then realising her inadvertent pun, put her hand across her mouth and giggled. He looked a little confused at first, and then did the same. "Oh I see what you mean!" he gasped, his brown eyes flashing in amusement at his predicament.

Once their laughter had subsided, Katy said. "Well let's come back tomorrow morning then. There are only two or three albums left to look through."

"Okay!" he replied eagerly, and smiled at her.

I could take their enthusiasm no longer. He was supposed to be hating this; hating it enough to make sure he never came back again. "Just a minute," I said, standing up, and blocking their path to the door. "We were going to decide whether she'd been a convincing enough girl before considering whether she can come back tomorrow remember?"

It pleased me to see his face fall, and his mouth twitch at my choice of gender for him. He stood up, carefully smoothing down the hem of his little skirt as he did so. Katy stood too.

"All right, we'll consider it." she said, conceding to my wish for a review. "As far as I'm concerned, I think he's done a really good job." She stared at me defiantly.

"Well it can't have been that good a job. You just called him a he!"

Her face betrayed her disappointment in herself. "And you just called him a him!" she snapped back, accusingly.

"Exactly!" I declared. "If you call her a he, and I call her a him, then he can't be doing a good a job at all!"

She bit her lip in frustration, and turned away from me a little. "Well it's our fault if we can't call him what we said we would, not his," she insisted.

"No it's not. If he was really convincing as a girl, we'd call him she automatically!" I shouted back at her. This was good; my logic was irrefutable! I stood as tall as I could to deliver my pronouncement. "Well I think it's fair to say that this isn't working then, don't you agree?"

Katy steadfastly refused to look at me, and stared at the wall of the hut, with her arms folded. "No I don't," she said at last. "I think it's working really well. All we need to do is to remember to call him she and her and stuff like that."

"I'll try and help as well," the boy unexpectedly chimed in. "I'll refuse answer unless you get it right if you like."

I glared at his eager little face, looking across at me with what he hoped was a winning smile on his face.

"That's a good idea!" Katy enthused. "Well done Charlotte!" He flinched almost imperceptibly, and then smiled at her. She was immediately won over by his little trick with the smile and the eyes. "See Jen?" Katy said, turning to me. "He; I mean she; is really making an effort! I think we ought to too!"

I glared back at her. She was entirely under his little spell, and was never going to see reason unless I forced this further. I moved a couple of paces further. "Well let's see just how much of an effort he has made!" I said, and walked across to him. His eyes widened as they followed my approach, and his head tilted up to look at me as I stood in front of him.

"What's your name?" I snapped at him, in a military fashion.

His eyes widened even further, and filled with alarm and dismay. "My name is Charlotte," he whispered, his face pleading with me not to hurt him. I smiled in satisfaction at his reaction. He was not liking this at all.

"And are you a boy," I asked, putting my face as menacingly close to his as I could; "Or a girl?"

His full mouth quivered a little. This was excellent. I was really scaring him now; hopefully scaring him so much that he would never want to come back to the den again. "I'm," he began, and then stopped. Brilliant! He was never going to make the verbal confession required. "I'm," he began again, and looked over to Katy for reassurance, trembling a little. She shook her head, and catching her eye, I beamed broadly at her. This was a victory for my common sense over her stupid bewitchment. I knew it, and I could see from her face that she knew it too. The boy may have stolen Andrea's house, but he was never going to steal this den or Katy from me! Katy's face fell into a look of sullen defeat. Once we had kicked the boy out, I would need to make friends with her again. Losing one member of the Wild Girls was bad enough; to loose another over a mere boy would be ridiculous.

"I'm a girl!" he suddenly spurted, in a loud but nervous voice.

I returned my gaze to him in amazement. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. His eyes held mine with a steady, and self-satisfied gaze. He tilted his head to one side; "How could you ask such a thing!" he went on, with mischief coming into his eyes, and a pout that pretended hurt feelings.

"That's right!" Katy asserted, coming across and putting her arms around his shoulders. "See? She's a girl, just like you wanted! She just admitted it!"

I was livid. Victory had been snatched from my grasp in an instance, the instance this bloody boy decided to say he was a girl! The two of them glared at me defiantly, and waited now for me to admit defeat. There was no way I was going to give them that satisfaction, now way at all.

"Words are easy to say. Actions speak louder." I announced, and looked into his face. "Let's see how sincere you really are about this."

I reached down to his legs, and grabbed the hem of his skirt. Horror and fright immediately replaced the self-satisfied expression he had been wearing. His hands went downwards too, and pushed the skirt grimly and pathetically down again.

"What are you doing?" Katy asked me aghast with horror. "You can't expect him to pretend down there as well!"

"I don't want to look at his Willy," I sneered. "It'd be horrible. I just want to see how dedicated he's been to pretending to be a girl."

His eyes were wild with fright, and he glanced at Katy for some sort of guidance or support. She was unable or unwilling to offer any.

"Let me lift your skirt up!" I demanded, frustrated in my efforts to force it upwards by his frantic grip on it. He stared at Katy again.

"Don't Jen. This is kinky!" she said, concern etched into her features.

"No it's not," I insisted. "We're all girls together here after all. We don't have secrets from each other."

"But what are you going to do?" Katy asked, nervously chewing on her hand.

"Nothing. I just want to look." I said, glaring into the boy's face. His lip trembled, and he let out a whimper. His big, brown, soft, wet eyes gazed helplessly up at me. I refused to blink, and stared back at him, and deflected his 'don't hurt me' darts.

"You'd better let her do it," Katy advised quietly, breaking the silence. "She'll not let go until she gets her way. I know what she's like."

"She's right, I'm not going to let go." I said menacingly into the boy's face. His mouth quivered again, and he tried to shoot another glance at Katy, but I was too close for him to see around. Slowly, his grip on his skirt lessened, and he allowed his arms to fall loose by his side. I allowed myself a grin, and slowly and purposefully lifted his little blue skirt upwards to his waist.

"Hold it," I commanded. Wide eyed, he hesitated only briefly before complying, and holding his skirt up with the hem around his chest. Satisfied, I stepped back a couple of paces, and looked at him. It was entirely as I had thought. He was wearing grotty boy's boxer shorts, grey and faded. The only saving grace from my perspective was that they were so baggy that they hid any hint of his manhood. I looked up to his face, now flushed with shame and embarrassment. This was exactly the effect I had been hoping to create.

I smiled a thin smile. "Well there we have it!" I announced. "Proof!"

"Proof of what?" Katy asked, as the boy stood there, looking quite absurd.

"Proof that he's made no real effort to pretend to be a girl!"

A puzzled frown came over her face, and she shook her head. "I don't know what you're on about Jen."

"Well look!" I demanded. "What sort of knickers are they?"

She turned to look at his boxers, with a look of concern on her face. "They're all right," she said, defensively.

"They may be all right," I responded, "but they're hardly what I'd call girl's knickers."

They both looked at me in amazement. The boy let his skirt fall, and I noticed that he smoothed it into place automatically.

"What are you on about Jen?" Katy demanded.

I stared back at her. "I'm on about him pretending to be a girl," I explained. "I'm just proving that he's made no real effort."

She still looked perplexed. "What? Because he didn't think to put on a pair of girl's knickers?"

I nodded in response, feeling satisfied with myself. The boy himself looked horrified.

"But that's really pervy Jen!" Katy insisted, pulling something of a face. "You can't expect a boy to wear girl's knickers. You must be some sort of lezza!"

"No I'm not!" I insisted. "Anyway, I've got no interest in making boys wear girl's knickers, so there!"

She looked even more confused, and shook her head. "I really don't know what you're on about now Jen. You must have lost it!"
I smiled knowingly back at her. "The thing is," I explained patiently, "is that our Charlotte here is a girl, or so she claims. Don't you remember? She just told us that she was!"

Katy looked taken aback. "Well yes," she began, but I did not let her finish.

"But judging by the underwear she's wearing, I'd say she was more of a boy than a girl, wouldn't you?"

Katy's mouth opened and shut ineffectually, and a warm glow of smug satisfaction came over me. I continued. "So as far as I can see, she's made no real effort towards pretending to be a girl, so she can't come back here tomorrow!"

"Are you saying you're not going to let her come back unless she wears girl's knickers?" Katy asked in disbelief.

I smiled back at her, and shrugged. "Well it would show that she means business!"

She looked at the boy, who had been forlornly listening to our argument. His brown eyes gazed at me full of hurt, of shame, and of humiliation. I loved it!

"It's not very fair Jen," Katy weakly protested.

"Life's not fair," I retorted, still smiling at them both.

Katy turned to her little protégée. "Well, maybe we should talk about this," she suggested.

"I can't; not now anyway," he replied. "I've got to go shopping with my Mum and Dad remember?" He stood there for a moment longer, staring at me in silent accusation. "In fact I'd better go now."

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Katy asked pitifully. "Hang on, I'll come with you."

The boy led the way out of the door, and Katy followed on rushing behind. By the time I got to the doorway, they were halfway across the clearing, and he was making haste to make sure he wasn't late.

"Wait!" Katy called, trying to catch him up. "You've forgotten something."

Reluctantly stopping, he turned. "What?" he asked.

"Your trousers!" Katy said, holding up the plastic bag, which now contained his jeans rather than the skirt. He looked a little shamefaced about his forgetfulness, and then took the bag off her.

"Thanks," he said. "I'll change back when we're nearer home."

Then they walked out of view, while I stayed at the doorway, tasting the sweet taste of victory once more. Katy may well have convinced him to wear a skirt, but I had still seen them off once and for all! There was no way on God's earth that she was going to convince him to put on girl's knickers, I felt sure, so his days as one of the Wild Girls were over. Just to make sure, I thought to myself, I'd better call him Charlotte whenever I saw him over the next few days. I could even ask him about his skirt, and why he wasn't wearing it. That would be good, and would really put him off getting into my hair again. Pleased with myself beyond measure, I locked the shed up, and walked idly back home.

  

  

  

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