Teenage Heartthrob

by Andrea

 

'Well that's buggered it up and no mistake.' Dave growled through his beard.

The rest of the crew nodded solemnly in agreement.

'Such a pity' said Nabs, the focus puller, his soft Welch voice tinged with sadness 'The light's perfect, so it is. You might wait a month for light like this.'

I put the tray of tea mugs that I'd carried over from the catering van on the ground beside on the camera dolly and asked 'What's happened?'

Dave just waved his hand in the direction of the road where I caught a glimpse of a light blue Bristol just before it disappeared round a bend.

'That's Miss Le Fey's car.' I said.

My observation wasn't original nor welcome. 'Too bloody right it is, young Tony. Too bloody right. Bloody gone and buggered off in the middle of the bloody shoot, hasn't she!' He coughed and spat and his spittle narrowly missed my left shoe. 'Bloody unprofessional!' He picked up his mug and strode off towards the little knoll where the director was sitting in his canvas chair.

Seeing my obvious air of bewilderment, Les, the sound engineer, took pity on my ignorance and filled me it. 'Don't mind Dave, Tony. He's just pissed off. Miss Le Fey had a disagreement with Mr Garland and stormed off the set. Happens all the time in this business. She'll be back on Monday coo'ing and twittering and acting like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.'

'Mind you,' he added, 'that means we'll still be here on Monday and that means a long weekend with us all stuck on location. Dave's pissed off. It's his little girl's birthday on Sunday and he promised his missus he'd be home.'

Even I knew that this was serious. We were on the last day of location and as I understood it we only had to shoot a few sequences for one scene. I'd had a glimpse of the camera directions in the hotel the previous night and they all consisted of things like 'Lena walking up hill – ruined church left nine – pan to right…' and 'Lena against sky – profile – extra back light if required – hair blowing left…' They all involved just one actress – Miss Le Fey, Dolores Le Fey to her adoring fans. Consequently, the rest of the cast and most of the film crews had packed up and headed back to Elstree yesterday. Dave's crew, of which I was the youngest member, Mr Garland, the director, and Percy, Miss Le Fey's make up man were all that remained. So, here we were in deepest Scotland, with only a single can to shoot, but apparently without a leading lady to shoot it at. Maybe this was normal behaviour in the cinema world, who was I to know, but it seemed rather bad form.

I'd better explain that despite my attachment to the camera crew I was the lowest of the low. I'd only joined the studio a month before directly after leaving school shortly after my fifteenth birthday. Although I was officially designated as an apprentice cameraman I was really the crews gopher. As Dave, the gaffer, said when I joined 'If I learned one end of a camera from the other in the first year he would consider it progress.' So far all I'd done was make tea and carry boxes. This was my first time on location.

I was siting on a crate nursing my tea and listening to the chat when I saw the gaffer and Mr Garland walking over towards us. I expected that they were going to have a word with the whole crew but instead Dave motioned for me to join them.

'You're in for it now lad. Probably get the blame for frightened our star actress away with your tea.' joked Nabs.

'Could we have a word in private, Tony?' said the director.

I joined them and we walked aimlessly towards the knoll before Dave cleared his throat and spoke. 'You know that Miss Le Fay's gone an hopped it Tony? Well, Mr Garland has had an idea that might get us out of this mess and he wants you to listen to him. Alright?'

I smiled, after all I felt I could have done something wrong. Now I'd leapt from the obscurity of being the gopher of a camera crew to actually talking to a director. In my experience directors never actually talked to crew members. They just shouted at them. I took a deep breath and tried to look suitably grown up. 'Alright with me, Gaffer.'

Mr Garland startled me with his question. 'How tall are you, Tony?'

'Five foot six …. and a half.' I said. '… but I'll grow.' I was sensitive to that. I'd been called Midget at school and I didn't like it.

Mr Garland was oblivious to my agitation. 'Good, good' he murmured. 'You see Tony, we only have distance shots to do today. There is no close up work involved. The remaining close ups will be done in the studio where we have control of the lighting. So we intend to use you as a stand-in for Dolores this afternoon. Is that OK?'

I gulped 'You mean you want me to dress up like Miss Le Fey and act her parts?' I waved my hand back at the guys sitting by the cameras. 'With everyone looking at me?'

'For God's sake it's just the camera crew, Tony!' said Dave. 'Look. Let me put it this way. We're a team right?'

'Right'

'And we're up shit creek without a proverbial paddle. And it's possible that you can get us out of this mess. So what is your problem?'

'It's so embarrassing. I don't want to do it.' I said meekly. 'Couldn't you get someone else to do it.'

'Bloody Hell!' roared Dave. 'Just who have you in mind? There isn't another person here under forty except for Les, and he's over six bloody feet tall.'

'You could phone an agency and get an actress here by tomorrow' I said lamely.

That made Dave mad. 'OK! Don't do it. Leave your mates in the shit! Great crew member you turned out to be. You'll be making tea until the day you die. Goodbye.' Dave spun on his heel and made as if to walk off.

'And giving up all that money' tutted Mr Garland.

'Wait. What money?'

'Equity rates at £2.50/hr … That would be about a tenner for the afternoon I think.'

Ten quid! That was a months' money at my rate. I started to see the proposal in a new light. I bit my lip.

'Alright I'll do it. But on one condition.'

'Name it.' said Mr Garland resignedly.

'I get my name on the credits.'

'What!' they both looked at me incredulously.

'As part of the camera crew' I added hastily, 'I want to have my name on the credits as a assistant cameraman on the location crew, so my Mum can see it and know that I'm getting on in my job.'

'Done.' Laughed Mr Garland ' How about it Gaffer?'

'Well' said Dave, 'Apprentice cameraman is as far as I'll go. But you'll have to take a few shots for the film back at the studio, Tony, otherwise I'd be lying.'

I was elated. Ten pounds and my name in credits and the chance to actually operate the camera on my first picture.

'Well now that's settled you'd better get over to Percy's caravan and get changed.' said Dave 'Us poor grunts on the crew will just have to manage lugging the gear up the hill without you.' He gave a very theatrical groan and winked at me then added in a whisper. 'Do this without too many retakes and I'll buy you a slap up tea in the Hotel in Aberfoyle tonight.'

All right I know what you must be thinking. But isn't this the stuff that movie legends are made off. Sometime in the future when cameramen are sitting in a bar someone will remember the story. 'Remember when Tony Davis saved that Dolores Le Fey picture. Well, Dolores had walked off in one of her moods and Tony, he wasn't a lead cameraman then, was as cool as a cucumber. He just jumps into Dolores' old dress and a wig and directs the shoot using himself as the subject. Old Garland said that they were the best photographic sequences in the entire film. Got to hand it to Tony .. one of the true professionals.'

Well that was what I was thinking.

Percy wasn't too sure about the scheme. Despite the fact that it wasn't really very cold in his van I was shivering in my Y-fronts as he assessed the problems posed in turning me into a passable imitation of Dolores. Finally he snapped his fingers pointed to the make up chair and said 'At least you don't shave yet. Your face is soft as a babies bottom. You best sit down. I'm going to try and pull off a miracle.'

After scrubbing my head and trimming off the longer strands of hair he started to plaster it with thick goo. Then he interlaced a layer of individual hairs on my hairline. Next he attached a long haired wig to my scalp and started to weave the strands of hair into it. As he washed it with warm water I began to realise that this wasn't simply a matter of sticking on a wig. I was sitting under the drier by the time I'd summoned enough courage to ask him how easy it would be to remove.

'Not easily I hope. The shooting directions call for your hair blowing in the wind. I can't take the chance of it blowing off.' Then he saw my consternation and laughed. 'It's OK Tony. The glue dissolves in methyl alcohol. When we are finished I'll soak your head in the stuff and everything will peal off. Same thing goes for the falsies.'

'The falsies?' Then I saw that he was weighing a couple of largish flesh coloured objects in his hands.

'Yes' he grinned. 'These ought to do the trick. Marvellous stuff this new silicon rubber. With a bit of rubber paint to hide the joins you could swear that they were natural.'

'Are you sure that this is completely necessary?'

'Look kid. I don't tell you how to point a camera do I? When I do a job I do it properly. I'm not going to have fat-arsed Garland screaming at me that you didn't look exactly like Dolores. Just be thankful that you don't have any body hair to speak of.'

He took a lot of care attaching the breasts and I must say that when the paint had dried you couldn't see any joints. I heaved my chest and they wobbled a little. I suppose they were natural looking but my experience of girls' breasts was limited to some dirty pictures I'd seen at school and glimpses of one of my aunt's tits when she was feeding my baby cousin so how was I to know.

The next bit was much more embarrassing although to give Percy his due he did his best to make it seem matter of fact. I stood up covering my privates, as best I could, with my hands while he attached layers of thin silicon strips to my buttocks to build up the hips and bottom.

Eventually that bit was finished to his satisfaction and it was a relief when he announced I could get dressed. I hadn't realised until then that he intended that I wear woman's underwear.

'Come on Percy. This wasn't in the deal. I'll be wearing a dress so no one will know what's underneath.'

He pointed to the shooting script. 'Look here. It says "Lina in profile. Dress whipped by wind against sky…" I ask you, if the dress blows up, and the shot gets printed, what do you think the fans are going to say if they find out Miss Le Fey is wearing Y-fronts?"

So I had to put on frilly knickers and a lacy white girdle and tan nylons. I argued that I should at least put the knickers on first but Percy pointed out that if I wanted to go to the loo I'd have some difficulty. Anyway, everything was going to be authentic so my opinion wasn't important in the slightest.

If anything it was a relief to put on the bra. It stopped the heavy breasts bouncing around in an annoying fashion which was giving me a distinct pain in the chest. I started to feel a little less embarrassed than I had when I was naked. So putting on the tiered net petticoats and Miss Le Fey's dress wasn't as much of a trauma as I'd imagined and when Percy started on my make up I was pleased that everything was going to be over soon.

It took him much longer than I thought possible to get the effect he wanted. I had all sorts of creams, powders and paints applied to my face and neck. He used three different bottles of stuff on my eyes alone. And then combing out and setting my hair took another fifteen minutes. Finally he sighed and handed me a pair of high heeled shoes and motioned towards the mirror on the door. 'Best I can do I'm afraid. You'd better get out there and wow your public.'

What can I say. A sensationally pretty young girl in a blue lace party dress whose auburn hair cascaded over her neck and shoulders looked out of the mirror. The image definitely wasn't me. It wasn't exactly Dolores Le Fey, the nation's sweetheart, either, but it wasn't a million miles away. It looked like the kind of girl that I dreamt about going out with. The feeling was unreal.

The crew, and even Mr Garland, shared my awe.

'Bloody Hell, Percy' said Dave 'You have really outdone yourself.'

'Dolores' younger sister in the flesh' said Les.

'Nice legs' said Stan.

'Well done' said Mr Garland.

Only Nabs could find fault. 'Used a bit much rouge haven't you Percy?'

Percy looked at me and shook his head. 'No Nabs, you clown. Tony's blushing. Aren't you Tony?'

Too right. My cheeks were burning and I must have been the colour of beetroot from the neck up. How would you feel being oggled like a freak by a bunch of grinning lunatics?

'Look' I said, my voice cracking a bit and finding a tone an octave lower than normal 'I'm only doing this for the crew. So we can all pack up and get home tomorrow. Can we please just get this over with before someone comes along and sees me like this?'

'OK, Tony' grinned Mr Garland. He turned to the crew and said 'You heard what the girl said boys, let's make a movie!'

Well if I told you the details of that afternoon's shoot it would bore the pants off you. I spent a lot of time trudging up paths and standing dramatically against the skyline being blown at by a wind machine. I got fed up with Mr Garland's shouted insistence that I had to remember to look as if I had just run away from my engagement party. The crew spent a lot of time sitting on their bums drinking tea while Percy attended to my face and hair. All told it was very, very exhausting and I was more than happy when Mr Garland said it was time for a last few exposures with the hand camera. Most of the guys went back down the hill to pack up the gear leaving Dave, Nabs, Mr Garland and me to finish up. Finally we shot the remaining footage and set off down to the vans. By this time though my feet, constrained as they were by those wretched high heels, were killing me and with the swaying walk I was forced to adopt by the hip pads and knee length petticoats I couldn't walk downhill very fast.

'Look.' said Dave after I'd had to call a halt for the third or fourth time, 'There's no real hurry. We'll go ahead and pack up the van. You get down the hill in your own sweet time and get Percy to get that clobber off. Then he can give you a lift to the hotel.'

That suited me. I sat rubbing my feet for a bit and then set off after them. It was really funny walking with titties. Even with the bra holding them they bounced up and down a bit. It was quite amusing really. I watched the movement of the bodice of my dress. Step, step, bounce. Step, step, bounce. A pleasant breeze was blowing up the hill and swirling around under my net petticoats. At least the tops of my legs felt cool and comfortable. I twirled my body and the skirts flew round my legs with a satisfying flounce. And when I thought about it the afternoon hadn't been so bad. Sure it had been a bit embarrassing prancing about in girls' clothes in front of the camera but they were only film props. And I'd wrung a firm commitment from Dave that I'd be taking my place at the opposite end of the camera in the near future and that would get my career as a film cameraman started. I had to laugh when I thought of Percy's comment about 'fat-arsed Garland' and I knew I'd have to work that tag into a conversation sometime. Somewhere along the way I must have taken a wrong turning. Anyway I ended up coming out of the trees at a place I'd never seen before. I walked along a bit further before I realised that I was going in the wrong direction and it took me a while to backtrack and find the right path. When I got to the site it was deserted. Both the van and Percy's car had gone. Percy had left a note on the door of his caravan.

'Tony. I waited for hours. You could have told me you were going back with the camera crew. I'll drop your clothes and stuff off at the hotel.'

Bugger!

I spent a useless half hour trying to break into Percy's caravan and then into Mr Garland's. All I succeeded in doing was knocking the door handles off with large rocks. Both had those anti-theft steel shutters over the windows and even if I could have reached them from the ground I doubt very much whether I could have got them open with a hammer and chisel. At that point I decided that I'd have to walk up to the main road and try to get a bus into Aberfoyle. I can't say that the idea appealed, me being dressed up as I was, but I couldn't think of any alternative.

An hour later I was siting at the back of a bus shelter on a road which seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions. Then a car drew up. I tried to look inconspicuous which was tricky as I was the only occupant of the shelter. An earnest faced boy, he looked about eighteen or so, looked out of the car.

'Excuse me' he said 'Can I give you a lift?'

I tried to hide my face behind one hand as I spoke 'It's all right. I'm waiting for the bus.'

'Please yourself' he replied 'But the next bus comes at seven tomorrow morning. You've missed the six o'clock bus. You'd better hop in. I'm Gavin by the way.'

I thought about this for a few moments. What the Hell, I was lost and there was no way I could have walked the six miles or so to the village.

I squeezed into Gavin's Ford Popular. It was a two door version thankfully so I managed to get the billowing skirts in without too much trouble. I'm sure I showed quite a bit of leg in the process but at least Gavin was good enough to pretend he was looking straight ahead. I pushed the seat as far back as it would go to keep out of his line of sight.

'This is good of you. Can you take me to the hotel in Aberfoyle please' I said in what I felt was a safe tone, adding a bit of huskiness to my voice to mask any cracking.

'The Aberfoyle Hotel' he said, 'Sure thing. Have you there in two shakes of a lamb's

tail, Miss.' And with that he let out the clutch and stalled the car.

'Sorry' he said, 'I haven't been driving long. I got this baby for my seventeenth birthday. Do you like it?' He patted the dashboard with proprietorial pride.

'Very nice.'

That's the way the journey went. He talked about his car and I made inane replies. I slowly relaxed as I realised that apart from an occasional glance at my knees, over which I was holding as much skirt as possible, he was completely self obsessed. Eventually we got to the village and finally drew up in front of the hotel. I couldn't see the van nor Percy's car so I thought they must be round the back. Gavin leant over me to unfasten the door and his elbow brushed my bodice. As he did so I could see that there were a lot of tourists milling about at the entrance and I suddenly got cold feet.

'Gavin, could you go in for me and ask for the Elstree Studio film crew are here. Tell them Tony's outside in your car and ask if one of them, Dave preferably, would come out and get me? Tell him to bring a coat.'

Gavin looked puzzled.

'They might be in the public bar' I said, implying that I might not wish to go in there.

That seemed to satisfy him and he got out and disappeared into the hotel lobby. He was back in five minutes.

'Sorry Miss. Toni isn't it? No one seems to know anything about any film crew. Maybe your friends have gone somewhere else.'

Panic was starting to rise in my throat but I tried to stay in control. 'This is the Aberfoyle Hotel isn't it?'

'Yes'

'They must have left a message. Could you go back in and ask if there is a message for Tony?'

Gavin trooped back in but came back empty handed. He turned the car round and we repeated this procedure at another pub and at every guest house in the village but with no success. We pulled up in a passing place outside the village boundary. I was close to tears. I looked in the rear view mirror and realised that tears were indeed welling up in my eyes. Gavin passed me his handkerchief and patted my shoulder.

'Don't cry Toni. You'll just ruin your mascara.'

He thought for a minute while I stifled my sobs. Then he said brightly 'Look here, I'm going to Callander for the Young Farmer's Dance. You could come too, as my partner if you like. Then we can come back to the hotel later. Your friends are bound to come back when the pubs close. Or you could catch the last train to Stirling. It would be very nice if you came to the dance with me, there aren't so many pretty girls in these parts and you are an absolute stunner. You'll make my friends green with envy.'

Well, put like that, what was I going to do? I could sit around here for three or four hours or go to Callander with Gavin. Obviously I was passing for a girl so far and so I could probably bluff my way into the ladies loo at the dance and stay there until it was time to return to the hotel. On the other hand the crew might have gone to Callander anyway and I might find them there. While I was weighing things up in my mind he said something that left me no option.

'There is usually a good spread at the dance. My auntie Mavis usually does the catering. So if you haven't had your tea you will get something to eat there.'

So we went to Callander. I eyed him up while he was talking and realised he wasn't the fittest boy in the neighbourhood, in fact he was decidedly portly and baby faced for his age. If push came to shove I would be able to run away without worrying about him catching me. Somehow that made me feel safer. By the time we were halfway there Gavin had run out of things to say about his car and decided that I might be a better topic of conversation. Despite not wanting to talk, for obvious reasons, I had to say something so by the time we got to the town Gavin had a modest, and largely fictitious, picture of his date. I was Toni Davis (correct but wrong spelling). I worked for a picture studio (true). I was in the new Dolores Le Fey film (true). I was a film actress (false). I was attracted to him (false).

In the end he parked the car in front of a church hall and ushered me through the entrance. Maybe I'd got Gavin wrong, I'd an idea that he might not be extremely popular, but we were suddenly surrounded by a crowd of boys. As they descended I felt Gavin's arm encircling my waist. That was uncomfortable but I couldn't do much about it. Then I was being introduced and I couldn't do anything about that either. So now I was Toni, a movie starlet from London, who was staring in a new picture. And believe it or not I was Gavin's girlfriend. I almost choked on that one. I'd have run away then but Gavin's hand was stuck to my waist like a very large limpet. It was only when he had made up his mind that all his friends knew I was with him that he stopped talking and loosened his grip. That apparently was the signal for his friends, most of whom had spent all the time he was talking eyeing my cleavage, to be allowed to talk to me.

However after a few words they began to dry up and that gave me the chance to ask for where the ladies powder room was. At least five boys pointed it out and one asked me if I needed help finding it. I said 'Thank you, no' and made for the door. As I left Gavin said 'See ya soon, Baby' and he blew me a kiss.

No chance, not if I could help it. I dashed through the powder room and closed a toilet door behind me. Then I looked round the six by four foot cubicle that I decided was to be my cell until the dance ended. Not even running water. That was in the room outside. I sat down on the seat with my feet on the rim and waited.

I didn't get the chance to wait for long. Perhaps I had some idea that the Seventh Cavalry might arrive but it wasn't them pounding on the door. A very upset female voice was clearly trying to attract my attention.

'Will you please hurry up. I'm desperate!'

This went on for a bit until I decided that staying in the cubicle wasn't going to be practical. So I had a pee, finding out in the process that Percy's advice with regard to wearing knickers over suspender straps was perfectly sensible, adjusted my knickers, smoothed my petticoats and flushed the loo.

The powder room was crowded with girls one of whom dashed past me into the cubicle with an audible sigh of relief. I was trying to make it past the wash hand basins and out of the room when I felt a hand on my arm. I turned to see a teenage girl dressed in a dark blue skirt and a white blouse. She had a rather pleasant smile.

'I'm Madge' she said 'I'm a friend of Susan, Gavin's cousin from Brae End Farm. You must be Toni, Gavin's girlfriend from London. Is it true you are in the pictures?'

I sighed and held out my hand. 'Glad to meet you, Madge. Parts of what you said are correct. I'm Tony, I'm from London and I work in the films. But I'm definitely not Gavin's anything. I only met him tonight. He offered me a lift in his car when I missed my lift to the hotel. It's a long story but I had no intention of coming to the dance. I'm tired and all I want to do now is get a lift back to Aberfoyle.'

'Oh' laughed Madge 'the way Gavin is talking I thought you were almost engaged or something.'

This seemed to amuse several of the other girls in the room. A blonde girl, who was about my height, introduced herself as Mary and offered me a bottle of orange squash. It tasted good and it hit the spot exactly. She took my bottle back and mixed another drink, this time diluting the concentrated squash with tap water and a generous slug of a clear liquid from a bottle in her bag. Then she said

'Look, let me fix my lipstick and we'll get out of here. I'll introduce you to a few friends.' She looked at my face. 'If you don't mind me asking what shade of lipstick

are you wearing? It's very nice.'

At least I could be honest 'I don't know. You'd have to ask the make-up man on the set. All I know is it is made by Max Factor.'

'Oh Good' squealed Mary, looking at Madge and me with unalloyed delight 'I use Max Factor too.' It seemed as if somehow this made us friends or something.

An accordion and fiddle duo were playing to a crowded, smoke filled hall. Everyone seemed to be standing around a nearly empty floor where only a couple of girls were dancing. By the time we found a place to sit we had gathered a posse of several girls. Clearly they were out to quiz the newest addition to their number. I had the sort of audience any teenage boy would envy. A crowd of nubile teenage girls hanging on my every word. Normally I would have been tongue tied in this situation but that night I seemed to be floating. After all I was playing a part and I could be as outrageous as I liked. I gave my public everything they wanted and more. Yes, I knew Alan Ladd (I'd once bumped into him in a doorway at Elstree). Yes, I just loved Lisa Farrow's miniature poodle, Fifi (I'd had to take the damm thing out to shit on two occasions). No, I hadn't been to Hollywood, yet. Yes, I hoped to be invited to Cannes next year. Yes, I thought radiant tan was the new in shade in nylons. Yes, my shoes and dress were Paris designer originals. This went on for ages.

By this time couples were pairing off for dancing and there seemed to be a line of boys eager to whisk me onto the floor. I retreated to the powder room for a bit with Mary and Madge. Madge seemed to want an opinion on her choice in clothes and I think my eyes almost popped out when she unbuttoned her blouse and asked me about her choice in bras. I had to shut my eyes when she asked me to feel if the uplift was firm. I had to ask Mary to help me repair my make-up. At least I could truthfully claim that I didn't normally put it on myself. When I couldn't stall them any longer we had to go back to the hall. Unfortunately for me the crowd of boys interested in dancing with me was even larger. I managed to shunt two of them off on Madge and Mary but then I saw Gavin approaching so I dived into the arms of the next beaux in line. Alaister, that was his name, turned out to be a good choice. I knew I couldn't dance but he didn't and he certainly couldn't dance to save himself. So our progress was erratic to say the least. He stood on my feet and said sorry a lot. Then he asked me outside for some fresh air and something to drink.

Something to drink turned out to be a little silver flask of raw whisky. As Alister said 'it wid warm me up sumthin' grand' and he wasn't joking. It ran through me like a hot fire and did it have a kick like a mule. I'd tasted alcohol before, I'd had a sherry at my cousin's christening, but this felt so different. Alister talked about his life on his dad's sheep farm and how he wanted to go to London someday and how well did I know Dolores Le Fey. He offered me another slug from his flask and told me 'I wis ra prettiest gurl at ra dance'. Then he asked me if he could have a kiss. I wasn't too enthusiastic about that but there was no one about so I pecked him on the cheek and ran back inside.

The rest of the evening went on just like that. A new boy. a dance, a drink outside, another boy, another dance, another drink outside. I lost count somewhere. I was also aware of loosing control of my body. By the time the last dance was announced I was being held up on the dance floor. Not that my partner seemed to mind holding me up by cupping his great hands round my bum. In fact he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. His exploration of my body continued when we got outside. I remember being pressed against a rough wall. One of his hands was cupped inside my bra while the other held my hands behind my back. He was biting my neck and I could feel the hard bulge inside his trousers pushing against my stomach.

I don't know just what would have happened if Gavin hadn't appeared. Well not just Gavin but Mary and Madge as well. Somehow they pulled him off me and chased him away. I meant to be grateful but instead I suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to puke. The next thing I remember was being miserably sick in the bushes. Somehow they got me to Mary's house and laid me down on a bed.

That's the last I remember until the next morning. Fortunately a desperate need to pee woke me up and forced me to find the toilet. One glance in the mirror persuaded me that I looked like a wreck. There was a pounding going on in my head like a hundred elves banging drums. Someone, it might have been me, had obviously stripped off my dress and a couple of my net pettis but I was still wearing an underslip. I thought I'd better make myself scarce so I purloined a pair of outsize dungarees and a pair of wellie boots I found in a cupboard and took a duffel coat from behind the door. The last thing I did before leaving was to fold Miss Le Fey's dress and petticoats, put her shoes on top of them and left a note for Mary.

'Dear Mary, thanks for being so nice last night. Hope I wasn't too much trouble. Had to borrow a pair of dungarees and your Duffel coat but will send them back by post. In the meantime please accept my shoes and the dress. Hope they fit. Toni.'

I hitched back to the location on the back of a milk lorry, keeping the hood of the Duffel over my hair. There they all were – Dave and the rest of the crew. Dave was red-eyed and very angry.

'And just where did you get to last night, my lad? We waited at the hotel for hours and we've spent most of the night coaming the heather.'

Now it was my turn to get mad 'I went to the hotel. I went to the Aberfoyle Hotel!'

He looked at me and took in my red rimmed eyes and smeared face. I could almost believe he looked fatherly for a moment. 'Not the Aberfoyle Hotel, Tony. We were all booked in at the Rob Roy Hotel just on the other side of Aberfoyle.'

Then he turned to the crew and announced 'It's a WRAP folks. Let's couple up those vans and hit the road!'

    

    

    

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