I was still sitting on the bed, half an hour later.

I was in shock. I still could not believe what I said to that effing creep, Davis.

I had actually batted my eyelids at him like a call girl on heat. OK, if he was a hunking male with a body to die for, a face to match and muscles in the right places, but Davis! He was the original creepy and dirty old man.

Then I realised what I had just thought and I broke out into a sweat.

What was I doing, thinking about hunky men! I am a hunky, well puny really, man. Well not much more than a boy, actually. Anyway, you know what I mean.

No way was I attracted to men. All right, I looked nice dressed as a girl. Hell, I fancied myself looking like that and I felt nice too. All that silky stuff…nice, but that was no reason or excuse to think pervy thoughts about men.

I got up and went to the cracked mirror over the washbasin. I looked at the scared face, blinking at me in the reflection.

There was no denying it; I looked nice as a girl, much nicer than I would be as a boy. Still I was a man and men should not think such thoughts.

‘Am I gay?’ I said to my reflection. ‘No, I can’t be. I love girls. It’s just that girls don’t seem to feel the same way about me.’

I had tried to date a few girls and I had even gone to one of those speed-dating places a couple of months before. I was the youngest one there by a long way. Every girl was at least thirty. I had tried to put on the charm, but being small, shy, inexperienced and young didn’t help one bit. No one was interested except an old lady of at least forty, who wanted to mother me.

‘Anyway,’ I thought, ‘this doesn’t help me much. What the hell am I going to do?’

I made myself a cup of tea, sat down on the bed and wracked my fevered brain as to how I was going to get out of this.

I could see no way out. I had no job. I was going to be chucked out of my home, unless I go out with the monster from the black lagoon. I had to go through with it. I had no choice.

Then I had another distressing thought. I remembered that I had to go to an interview dressed like a girl and get the job as well!

I felt my head was beginning to split. I had a few aspirins and then lay back on the pillow. Everything was going around my head as I drifted off into a troubled sleep.

I dreamt that I was in McDonalds. I was just wearing some panties and a bra. I stood in the middle of the crowded room, shivering.

Everyone was pointing at me. There was the spotty boy who had served me. The two policemen who had stopped me and Sheila leering at me, with a huge syringe in her hand. The bikers were there, holding hands and making rude gesturers. Finally, there was Davis standing in front of me. They were all chanting. ‘Fake, Fake, FAKE.’

Just then Davis, with an evil leer on his face, a dribble of saliva coming out of the corner of his mouth and his tongue hanging out and panting like a dog, ripped open his dirty, stained mac to reveal…..

I woke up suddenly to a banging at my door.

I shakily got up and opened the door. I could see with bleary eyes that it was Sheila, still in her nurses uniform. I must have slept for longer than I thought.

‘Hi Toni, I’m back. Good God girl, what have you done to yourself? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!’

‘Um, just a bad dream, anyway. Don’t call me a girl; remember under all this stuff, I’m 100% man.’

‘Err, if you say so.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Nothing, nothing. Anyway, do I have to stand at the door all day or can I come in.’

‘Sorry.’ I said as I let Sheila in.

‘Well, Toni, have you decided what you are going to do?’ she asked, sitting on the bed and looking at me with a quizzical expression.

I sat next to her and sighed.

‘Well Sheila, there have been some developments.’

‘What sort of developments?’

‘Davis knocked on my door, shortly after you went to work.’

Sheila whistled. ‘Were you dressed like that?’

‘Yup.’

‘Oh GOD, what happened?’

‘Um, I er, pretended to be my sister.’

‘Tell me all and don’t leave anything out.’

I told Sheila what happened in full and explicit detail. I was not very happy to tell her, but I had no choice.

Sheila hooted with laughter.

‘So you’ve now got a date with Wondering Hands, have you?’ she asked trying to control her mirth.

‘Wondering Hands?’

That’s what all the girls in the flats call him. Given the chance, he is all over you like a rash.’

‘Did you let him touch you up?’

‘He tried, but I work in A&E and we are used to that sort of thing. Let’s just say that he had to use his other hand for a week.’

‘To do what?’

‘Never mind. So you have painted yourself into a corner and you want Auntie Sheila to help you out of it.’

I nodded my head, not wanting to say anything.

‘Well, I suppose it’s partly my fault for not warning you about the lovely Walter Davis.’

Sheila took charge, thank God, as my brain had booted down and wasn’t able to think effectively.

‘OK Toni, back to my place and let’s get you ready. Quick, we haven’t got much time!’

‘What do you mean, we have two hours,’

Sheila laughed and said; ‘two hours is nothing. You really need at least three, but we will have to manage somehow.’

We arrived at Sheila’s flat and in no time, I was stripped and having yet another shower. I had to wash and condition my hair using some girly looking pink goo.

Once I was clean and dry, I put on her silky robe again. This was all a bit like de ja'vous as they say in Spain.

Sheila rapped a towel around my hair and hustled me into her bedroom.

I sat at her vanity and she dried my hair using a dryer. She then teased and back brushed my hair to make it stand out more.

I was given a wispy black bra, which I put on with some difficulty.

‘You need to start doing this stuff for yourself. I won’t be here all the time, so get used to it.’

After fumbling with the bra, Sheila put in the pink blancmanges. I mean breast forms.

I gasped a bit; they were bloody cold!

Next came the panties. They matched the bra, black with lace and stuff. It was tricky, as I had to pull my little tinkler in between my legs and Sheila did something with my nuts that made me gasp.

‘Ouch,’ I complained loudly.

‘Stop moaning, I’ve just put your balls back up inside you. You learn funny things on the wards, now days. Look, see no sign except a little bulge.’

‘It’s not very comfortable,’ I complained in a winy voice.

‘See how you go. Now what shall we wear tonight?’

‘Are you coming too?’ I said hopefully.

‘No., I was speaking figuratively.’

‘Oh.’

‘Now then,’ said Sheila, opening up her wardrobe, ‘what will look nice on you.’

‘I don’t want to look nice. I hate that creep. I do not want to encourage him.’

‘You need to look nice, otherwise, he will think you don’t like him and he will chuck you out. Now you want to look nice but not drop dead gorgeous as you don’t want him to try it on with you.’

‘Yuk! You don’t think he will do you?’

‘Probably, but you can always say that you have the curse.’

‘What curse is that?’

‘Time of the month.’

It’s the 15th. What has that got to do with it?’

‘Periods Toni, periods; you must know about that. Didn’t you learn about the birds and the bees at school?’

‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t pay much attention to that, it seemed a bit messy.’

‘Anyway, it should stop him going all the way.’

‘I don’t even want him to think about starting, let alone going all the way. Anyway, remember, I am a boy, not a girl. I don’t have all the bits. Hell, I don’t have any of the bits so he couldn’t go all the way even if he tried!’

‘Believe me, honey; given the chance, he would try, if he thought that he would get away with it. Hence, the ploy I always used if I didn’t want that sort of attention. You have the curse, right?’

‘OK. I’m beginning to wish that I just moved out and gone to live in one of those nice cardboard boxes in an alley somewhere.’

‘None of that talk. Now let’s get on with it as we don’t have much time.’

Sheila got to work on me and it was just before 7.00pm that I found myself back in my dingy flat, staring in the mirror and looking at Toni.

I was wearing a black satin long sleeved top, a black leather skirt that was about six inches above my knees. Black shear-stockings and four-inch heels.

My hair looked full and a bit wild. I kept pushing the hair from out of my eyes. God knows how Sheila had made my hair look like that. Anyway, my makeup was quite heavy. I had striking blue eyelids. My eyebrows had been plucked (ouch!). My cheeks had a flushed look, my lips were large, wet looking, very red and I looked as if I was continually pouting.

‘What do you think, Toni?’

I didn’t say anything.

‘Well!’ said Sheila impatiently.

‘Er, um er, I look er, different.’

‘You look hot, girl. No way is Davis going to chuck you out. He will want to see you as much as possible and can do that if you are the tenant.’

‘But looking like this I will have to continually fight him off. Hell, even I’m turned on looking like this. What will it do to a dirty old man like Davis?’

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Sheila looked at me and I looked at her. She went into the bathroom to hide, as we had agreed that Davis should not see her.

I gulped and slowly walked over to the door.

My heart was in my mouth as I opened the door and standing there was Walter Davis.

He was wearing a suit. Well, I call it a suit but it looked as if it was twenty years old. It was brown and had a faint pin stripe. I could smell the lovely aroma of mothballs wafting from it. His shirt was sort of lime green in colour and needed an ironing. His tie was orange with pink spots on it. I cannot believe that it was ever in fashion.

I was a bit taken aback by what he was wearing. Eventually, my eyes went up to his face. He had washed, which must have been a first, but his shaver had missed a few places and my eyes were drawn towards a particularly large mole on the side of his face, which still had a few hairs sprouting out of it.

I think he was smiling, but it was more of a leer, as he looked me up and down, taking in my somewhat sexy attire.

He was breathing heavily, for some reason and all he could say, in between gasps, was ‘wow.’

Ah well, I thought. ‘In for a penny.’

I went to get the leather coat that Sheila had given me for tonight and went over to the door.

‘Shall we go?’ I said in a squeaky voice.

‘Of course my dear,’ He said, finally finding his breath.

I walked downstairs, trying not to fall over and break my ankles on the high stiletto heels.

I could hear Davis, still breathing heavily behind me and the hairs on the back of my neck stood out in anticipation of the night in front of me.

Eventually, we were outside and I looked around for his car.

Just then, a huge great long stretched limo swooshed up and stopped.

Out got a man in a chauffeur uniform and he came round and opened the door.

‘Madam,’ he said in a Jeeves sort of voice.

I hesitantly got in and tried to sit down on the plush white leather seat. The problem was that I forgot that I was wearing leather too and I promptly slid off and landed on the floor.
My legs were up in the air and I could see that both the chauffeur and Davis were looking at me with tongues out.

I quickly pulled myself together, rearranged my legs and sat down on the seat.

Davis quickly joined me on the seat and virtually sat on my lap. I struggled to put some distance between my self and odious man, but I was hard up against the car door.

I tried to think of something, anything to get the octopus off me and said the first thing that came into my head.

‘Mr Davis, please don’t sit so close, you might catch it.’

He moved away from me as if I had given him an electric shock.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ he said with alarm in his voice.

‘I’ve, er, just gotten over athletes foot and I don’t want you to catch it.’

Hey, it was on the spur of the moment and if you can think of anything better under pressure, you just try it!

He looked at me funnily and said, ‘athletes foot is a foot condition, isn’t it?’

‘Er, yes, but it is highly contagious and you can get it from touching other things as well as feet. A bit like foot and mouth.’

He looked at me a bit strangely, but kept to the other side of the car until, after about three years; we arrived at the restaurant.

Jeeves, or whatever he was called, opened the door for me and I stood on the pavement, with the wind whipping up my skirt while Davis struggled to get out of the car.

As the car wooshed away, I turned around and looked at the restaurant. It looked quite expensive. There was a man outside wearing some sort of gaudy uniform, covered with ribbons and medals. He opened the door for us and I walked in first, waiting for the bottom pinch from Davis, which luckily did not materialise.

A man in waiters uniform came over to us, took one look at Davis, sniffed and said ’The fish and chip shop is around the corner.’

Davis puffed himself up and said, ‘I have booked a table for two in the name of Davis.’

I was so embarrassed that I just wanted the ground to open up.

The waiter sniffed again, looked at his list, raised his eyebrows at seeing Davis’s name and said. ‘This way… um… Sir, Madam.’

We went over the acres of deep, plush carpet to our table. I was very aware of my appearance. At any moment, someone might stand up and tell the world that I was not a girl, but a man dressed in drag.

I could see out of the corner of my eyes that many faces were staring at us. I felt like a fish out of water and Davis looked just like a complete halibut. I wished that I was anywhere, even McDonalds, rather than here.

The waiter helped me into my seat. No one helped Davis.

‘Would you like a drink while you look at the menu sir?’

Davis tried to look important as he said, ‘Pint of lager please.’

‘And what would madam like?’

‘Diet coke please;’ I wanted to stay sober, but if things got bad, I wanted to keep my options open.

The waiter left us while we looked at the menu.

I saw the prices and they were incredibly expensive. Even a prawn cocktail would cost more than a year’s salary in some third world countries.

I realised that Davis was talking to me.

‘Pardon?’ I asked.

‘What would you like to start, my dear?’ Smirked Davis.

(My dear!!!)

‘Erm, prawn cocktail please.’

‘And your main course?’

I looked feverishly down the list of main courses. It was all foreign to me. At last, I saw something I recognised.

‘Fillet steak please.’

Davis clicked his grubby fingers and the waiter came across with our drinks.

After putting the drinks down, the waiter got out his order book, licked the end of his pencil and said ‘Sir, are you ready to order?’

We will both have prawn cocktail followed by steak and all the trimmings.

‘Very good sir, and for the wine, I can recommend the Cabernet Sauvignon?’

‘Is that white?’

‘Ahem, no sir, it is red. It goes very well with red meat.’

‘OK, we’ll have that then.’

The waiter went off leaving me to stare into the bloodshot eyes of my companion.

He spoke.

‘Well, my dear, I bet that you didn’t expect me to bring you to a posh restaurant like this?’

‘Um no Mr Davis, I expected something a little less expensive.’

‘Anything for you, my dear; and did you like the car?’

‘Very nice, if a bit big, Mr Davis.’

‘Now, now, my dear; we can’t stand on ceremony, call me Dirk.’

(Dirk!!)

‘Dirk?’

‘Yes, that’s my name and sorry, I don’t know yours?’

‘Tony.’ I said without thinking.

‘But that’s your brother’s name.’

‘Er, yes, but his ends with a y mine ends with i.’

‘Confusing, that.’

‘Yes; Our Mum and dad’s little joke.’

‘I mean, there is no way you can be confused with your Brother is there?’

The coke went up my nose and I nearly choked.

‘Are you alright, Toni?’

‘Yes, thank you Walt… I mean Dirk.’

‘Anyway, I much prefer your company to his.’

‘Does that mean that I … I mean we can stay in the flat?’

‘I don’t see why not, if tonight goes OK, of course.’

I didn’t like the sound of that. What other evil things did he have plans to do with me.?

He drank down his lager in one gulp, burped loudly and said, ‘Better out than in.’

An old lady sitting at the next table looked at him as if he was a cockroach and I must admit I had sympathy for that viewpoint.

After a few minutes of small talk and I really mean small-minded talk, our starters arrived.

I ate with relief at not having to talk to Davis.

He put a napkin around his neck and started to eat as if he had not consumed food for days. He put the food in his mouth as if he was shovelling coal in a boiler. It was not a pleasant sight.

‘Well, Babe, like the food?’

‘Er, yes, very nice.’

I looked around at the other diners. It seemed to me that we were the centre of attention. Were they looking at me, a boy dressed as a girl or Davis, that celebrated A Hole with the manners of a pig? Sorry, I am disparaging the pig species. Looking at Davis, I could not think of an animal that came close to the way he ate.

All the time he was eating, he was looking at me or to be precise, my breasts. He obviously had a fetish about them. To say I felt uncomfortable would be an understatement. I kept looking at the watch that Sheila had lent me. I swear that the hands were barely moving.

Davis was talking to me again. A marvel really, as his mouth, for once, was not full of food. I tried to pay attention to what he was saying. His voice had a slur in it now, no doubt helped by the three quarters of the bottle of wine that he consumed together with the third pint of lager he had just polished off.

‘Well babe, I can see that you are enjoying yourself. If you play your cards right, there is plenty more of this coming your way.

‘Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.’

He smiled. My eyes were drawn to his mouth. It was fascinating really. He had bit of food around his bloodless lips. I could see his lizard like tongue, darting out occasionally as if to taste the air. His teeth, brown with nicotine stains and in the need of major repair work, glinted in the glair of the overhead chandeliers. He sipped his fourth pint as he continued.

‘Well, a pretty girl like you needs a strong, rich man like me to look after you. I’m sure that we can come up with an arrangement regarding your rent in return for, shall we say, certain favours?

My heart sank like a stone. What did he mean by certain favours? I did not like the sound of this.

‘Sorry, I don’t understand.’

‘Look, honey. I’m a man of the world. I have needs, manly needs and I’m sure that a girl like you would be able to satisfy them. Now don’t say anything. Hear me out, in return for you being my escort and er, date sometimes…’

I had to say something, anything.

‘Aren’t you married?’

‘Eh, what, yes but she doesn’t understand me. Now, where was I?’

He sipped on his lager and continued.

‘As I say, I need a date sometimes. Someone who will help me relax and enjoy myself. You are lucky that I’m around. You could live in splendour. I could take you to posh clubs and restaurants. Wine you and dine you. I’m not poor. I have been fleecing… I mean collecting rent on all my properties for years. I have plenty stashed away to enjoy myself with. Let me give you a bit of advice. Get that worthless brother of yours, out of that flat and I will let you have it rent-free. In return, you can be my bit on the side, my significant other, in short, my bit of fluff. I could pop round and we could make hay together very regularly. What do you think; good idea eh?’

I looked at him. My brain was numb. I had thought that I had not been very fortunate in my life, but now it came to this. He thought that I was only good enough to be his bit on the side. I may have been a bit short when God handed out brains, but no way was I going to have anything to do with this poor excuse for a man.

Without another thought, I picked up his pint of lager and poured it over his head.
His look of shock was enough to make up for this evenings disaster of a date. I got up and walked out of the restaurant. I could hear him shouting behind me as I walked past the shocked diners. His voice was ringing in my ears.

‘I want you and that waste of a brother out of that flat by the morning, you bitch.’

As I went through the swing doors of the restaurant into the cold night air, it hit me. I was homeless again and I didn’t have a clue as to what I could do about it.

Copyright Susan Brown 2005