Leader of the Pack Part 1
I have to admit that seeing my picture on the front page of the Sunday paper was a shock. For most people it would be a pleasant one, the fifteen minutes of fame that is often promised but hardly ever given. It was not, for me, very good news at all.
When I saw it I was frozen on the spot and then slowly looked around, expecting to see a hoard of people yelling “There she is!” That would be a bit of a stretch as I am a guy and this morning I looked like a guy; or, at least, I hoped I did. I suppose I had better tell you how all of this came about. It started, as a lot of good stories do, in a pub.
When I was born, my parents were well steeped in that ‘upstairs downstairs’ show that was set in the English castle and went crazy when they christened me. Many names can be hard to live with but being called Bertram Oliver Granger led to me going through my school days as either Bog or Shithouse. At least they didn’t call me Fatty or Beanpole, even though I would have qualified for the latter. I wouldn’t have minded if my folks had called me Billy Joe or something more in keeping with our lowly social standing. My father always put on an air of respectability when he spoke to me, as if I was expected to pull the whole family up the ladder of social standing.
My two sisters were let off the hook; Maisie and Lilly Granger had no worries about what they were called, even if I thought of them as the ‘Wicked Sisters’ behind their backs. My schooling was so unspectacular that I ended up working as a bicycle courier but it kept me fit and I met a lot of nice people. My name badge read BO Granger and everyone I knew called me Bog. Of course, when I managed to deliver things on time and to the right place for a couple of weeks it was referred to as the ‘Bog Standard’ and I was told to make sure I kept it up or else my job would surely be in the Shithouse. This was conveyed to me with much merriment.
I lived, as to be expected of me, in a haze of work, sleep and alcohol, a bit too much of the latter at times. One Friday evening I was with the lads at the pub and I was fast becoming four sheets to the wind when a bunch of girls came in, my sisters among them. Usually they kept to themselves and we did likewise. This night, however, they were riled up about a local politician who had been found out about his sexual encounters with a staffer who did not appreciate the attention, especially when he declared that it was all consensual and that she had egged him on.
The girl in question, Sally, was a school-chum of my sisters and this crowd was determined to stand up for her and march on the Town Hall on Saturday. They were riled enough to march tonight but even the most pissed maiden would find it difficult to create any media interest outside a dark building at midnight. My mates thought it was all a hoot and a good opportunity to side with the girls tonight to see if they could cop a leg-over, or, at least a knee-trembler in the alley next to the pub.
One of the girls there, Kelly, was a bit of a crush of mine and I got beside her and agreed heartily with all she was ranting on about. So much so that one time I agreed loudly she grabbed me and gave me a big kiss that almost blew my mind. I order to have more of her attentions I started creating slogans for them to shout and, before I knew it, I was elected to lead the march in the morning. I was too drunk to decline and, unfortunately, also too drunk to be any good for Kelly if we got outside later, which did not happen anyway. She was finding hard to stay upright herself so I suppose it was all for the best.
My sisters made sure I got home and they pushed me onto my bed with the words “We will sort you out in the morning”. I wondered what they were talking about; I hadn’t done anything to them so any ‘sorting out’ would not be fair. With those thoughts I faded into the darkness of inebriation.
Saturday morning dawned much too loudly for me. My sisters burst into my room and hauled me upright, getting me naked before I knew what was happening. They did have the decency to help me to the toilet and sat me on the seat just in time before my bladder exploded. While I sat there dazedly, one went and ran a bath. I mean to say; who on earth has a bath in the morning and it wasn’t even a Sunday. It turned out that the smelly bath was for me and, while I was in it, they shaved my arms, legs, face and armpits first and then got me to sit up while they did my back and front. By this time I was starting to get some senses back and complained. I was told that no scruffy lout would lead their wonderful march and, as I had been elected the leader, I needed to look, and smell, the part.
When I said that this didn’t mean that I would have to look like an Olympic Swimmer they told me that it did mean that I had to look somewhat female or else the newspapers would laugh at the protesters. Fancy protesting against a guy and being led by one; it would not be a good look. I suppose I saw the logic, I think.
Before I was allowed out of the bath they got me to wash my hair twice in the shampoo they gave me to use. This was followed by some gloop they called conditioner. I was not one of those skinhead lager louts and did wear my hair long, usually in a pony-tail when I was working. Actually, I couldn’t remember going out with it unless it was pulled together with an elastic band. When I was out of the bath I was told to dry and then Lilly dragged me into her room while Maisie had a quick bath of her own.
She lathered me with cream on my, now hairless, body and then told me to put on some panties that she thrust my way. This time I did put my foot down but it was all washing through one ear and out the other. I could not achieve the look they were after without proper clothes and I finally relented when she picked up a pair of scissors and threatened to cut my dick off if I couldn’t be bothered to hide it properly. As she was a few years older than me, not to mention several pounds heavier, I pulled the panties on and pushed my dick between my legs. When I looked down I nearly fainted as it looked as if I had become a girl.
The next embarrassing moment was when she got me to put my arms out and she threaded one of her old bras on them, quickly going around my back and fastening it. She added some plastic things to the cups and I suddenly looked so much like a girl I had to sit on her bed as I hyperventilated. She took the opportunity to pull a pair of short stockings on my legs and put a pair of jeans in my hands and told me to pull them on. They were very tight on my legs and almost impossible to do up until she got me to stop trying to pull them up so far. They sort of sat on my hips. The last thing she did was to put a gauzy blouse over my head and arrange it so I showed a bit of cleavage. It was long sleeved so it hid my shapeless arms.
She took me through to Maisies’ room and sat me at the vanity. Maisie came in from her bath and told Lilly that the water was still warm so Lilly went off to have a quick one herself. Maisie told me to sit where I was while she got dressed. It took her about five minutes to do what had took me fifteen, but, there again, I was complaining a lot. Now Maisie worked in a salon and had all the torture instruments needed to give me the look she was after. I was resigned to let them do their thing by now, if only to get into their good books so that they could help me catch Kelly.
By the time Lilly came back, washed, dried and dressed, Maisie had wreaked her magic on me and I must say I looked almost like a hottie. She had worked on my brows and painted my face to look really good. My dirty blonde hair was now curled and framed my face. My lips were bright red and shiny and I now sported inch long fingernails in the same colour. I was ordered not to try and rub my eyes as I may blind myself and also make sure I didn’t rub against anyone as I would leave a smear.
The last ignominy before we went down for breakfast was having to put on a pair of Lillys’ boots with three inch heels. I nearly fell over but they got me walking up and down the corridor until I could master the technique. I was glad my father had already left for his early shift at the brickworks or it would have been a total embarrassment. As it was my mother ribbed me rotten until the girls told her that I was doing a good thing that they were very happy about and that she should be proud of me for going along with the protest march.
Over breakfast I was told several times to slow down and take smaller mouthfuls and not to burp. It was, I gathered, my introduction to a more genteel way of life and I had to do my best not to be outed. It was then I realised that ‘out’ was something I now was expected to do. I had a surge of doubt but the sisters ganged with my mother and I was told that I could do it and be a heroine for Kelly and that they were certain that Kelly would be very happy to see me this way. This was said with them smirking a bit but I took that as them being happy for me if I got together with Kelly.
Marianne G 2021
Leader of the Pack Part 2
Before we left we sat around the kitchen table and I was forced to call out the slogans and try to talk in a girly voice. When I was able to do it to their satisfaction my mother gave each of us a hug and, with a smile on her face, said “Go and change the world, my daughters.”
I was given a bum-bag in shocking pink and the Wicked Sisters filled it with the things they told me were what any girl would have. I added my bank card and a bit of cash and we were off. Outside I was worried that I would be the butt of finger-pointing and name-calling but no, we walked into town with our arms linked to make sure I didn’t run away and the only thing that happened was that people smiled a lot, especially the men we passed.
We met up with the rest of the gang at a park near the Town Hall and found that some had even made up some signs to carry while we marched. I would not have expected some of the wording from girls but the one that caught my eye caused me to worry at what they had learned at school but I refrained from pointing out that the politician was unlikely to be a ‘Mysogginess’. Another one called him a ‘Groping Bustard’ which I had to smile at the thought of a large bird attacking Sally with thought of coupling. The aggrieved girl, Sally, was there and gave me a hug for helping, as did a few of last nights’ crowd. I did give my own mates a stern look as they came forward to hug me and they desisted.
I was wondering where Kelly was when a motorbike stopped in the car park and when the rider took off their helmet I saw it was her. But what a different Kelly from the demure, pastel dresses Kelly that I was smitten by. This Kelly was all black, from her raven hair down to the black leather jerkin over a black satin blouse and then to the black leather skinny jeans and the black boots. This was a Kelly who meant business and no-one had better stand in her way. I was in awe and felt a stirring in my panties.
When she joined us she looked around and asked Lilly why she had not brought me and when I was pointed out she gasped, broke out into a big smile and took me in her arms and nearly put her tongue down my throat. Maisie called, “Don’t mess his face” but she did have to do some repair work on my lips. It was a good job we brought the lipstick. We then marched on the Town Hall with me still in a daze from the total sensuality of that kiss.
Someone had tipped off the local press so there were a few camera flashes as we strode out, shouting our slogans. It was Kelly, me and Sally at the front and we got to the Town Hall and walked right in. Sally knew where the individual had his office and we shouted out our slogans as we made our way to the right corridor. As we neared his office he came storming out with a look of rage on his face and he gave Sally a whack that had her sliding down the wall.
He screamed “You bitch! I’ll get you for this” and then turned his attention on the rest of us. I think that he saw Kelly as someone not to be messed with so he started screaming at me, calling me ‘scum whore’ and ‘slut’ and I saw him pull his arm back to give me a slap as well so I did what every self-respecting lout would do. I nutted him with my forehead and I brought my knee up to meet his balls. The extra lift from the boot heel was not factored into my actions and I think my knee may have met his liver in the follow-through.
Needless to say, he sunk to the floor while making mewling sounds and there was a stunned silence from the protest group. Kelly grabbed Sally and said “I have done some temping here, follow me” and she led us through a few more corridors to a set of double doors which told us that they were alarmed. She slammed them open and we poured out into a side street as the bells started up. We could hear sirens at the front of the building and knew it was too early to be fire engines so some-one must have called the plod.
We walked quickly back to the park as other doors burst open and the streets filled with public servants. Kelly pulled me towards her motorbike and thrust a spare helmet at me, saying “Come on girl, we had better get you a long way from here. “ She got the bike started and I got on behind her and we were off, heading away from the increasing activity behind us. The rest of the crowd were dumping their signs and getting into cars if they had one. I wrapped my arms around her waist as Kelly steered and it was odd to feel the two lumps on my chest pressing into her back.
We rode out of the city centre and into the suburbs. She lived quite a way out and I was totally lost when she stopped at a block of flats. This was a part of town that my father would have liked to live in, a bit more upmarket from our terrace. She chained the bike to a lamp-post and we both took off our helmets. She then kissed me again and pulled me inside and kissed me as we rode up in the lift to her floor. In her flat the helmets were just dropped and our clothes followed, all except my bra and panties which she insisted stayed on.
To say I was ready for what happened after that would be a very heavy stretch of the truth. I found myself with my head enveloped in thigh and my tongue bringing my love to an orgasm. When she opened her legs to let me go she said “Now is the time you use your dildo” and I moved up her body, kissing everything as I went. When I got to her lips she reached down and pulled my panties down, my cock springing to attention at the entrance to its intended home. I whispered “What about protection?” She giggled, saying “You can’t get pregnant from a dildo, silly Bonnie.” OK, nothing to lose then. I made love to her until I came with her second shudder.
It had been a very busy day so far so we parted and cuddled and then lay side by side with my head on her shoulder as if I was the girl. Maybe, in her mind, I really was the girl. We slept for a while and then got up and had a shower together, needing to wash all the sticky bits carefully. Both wrapped in towelling robes we sat at her kitchen table sipping a nice cup of tea while we chatted. I found out that her mother had died, leaving her a nice little nest egg and that she temped to keep her interested in life. Her father, I was told, had thrown her out of the family home when she told him that she was a lesbian and that she would be unlikely to give him an heir to the family business.
She kept on calling me Bonnie and, when I questioned it she said that she couldn’t call her girlfriend Bog, could she? We went back to bed and I first had to put on the bra and panties again before she would allow me to touch her. We spent much of the afternoon making love and I was, I have to admit, knackered by the time we decided that I should go home. We showered again and I got dressed in the clothes I had arrived in and she did my face for me, just in case. As we rode back to my place I could see several police cars around and wondered what they were searching for.
At home I got off the bike and took my helmet off, latching it on a part of the frame that was made to carry it. She told me that she would be in touch and roared off down the road. I felt a little lost as she disappeared around the corner. I had spent several hours being guided and protected by her magnificent personality. I think that it was now more than just a crush.
I went into the house to be greeted by my worried mother who exclaimed that she had been worried that I had been picked up by the plod and was undergoing torture. My sisters both came down and immediately picked up the different shower gel I had now used twice. “Ooh!’ said Lilly “Who’s been sleeping in Kellys’ bed then.” I didn’t have to say anything as my blush said it all. They took me upstairs and recovered their various bits of clothing and I was given a crash course in cosmetic removal to a lot of giggling. I have to say that I did a bit of giggling at the thought of what we had done today. Back in Bog mode I twisted my hair up and hid it under a beanie to keep it away from my face.
My mother had already been told of the happenings at the Town Hall and I was not going to say anything other than I got away on the back of the motorbike. Dad came home and we had our tea, he was not brought up to speed on his children and their antics. At least, not until there was a banging at the door and a couple of big coppers came in to speak to my sisters. They had been recognised at the protest and they were going to be taken down to the station and charged with ‘affray in a public place’. When I tried to speak up for them, one of the coppers told me to ”stay out of it, son” or else they would charge me with hindering them while carrying out their duty. When my now crying sisters were taken away my father wanted to know just what the hell was going on so my mother and I told him that they had been taking part in a protest against the politician and it had got violent, the politician coming out second best. “Bloody good job, too. That bastard had it coming for years. I would kiss the girl that dropped him.” My mother looked at me and winked.
Marianne G 2021
Leader of the Pack Part 3
The girls were dropped off later in the evening. They told us that they had been charged with affray but let off with a caution as everyone else had only shouted and waved signs. They said that the police were very interested in the ‘maiden from hell’ who dropped the politician but they said that some of the women police only wanted to bring her in to put a medal on her.
The politician was in hospital with the surgeons trying to save his manhood and word was that he would press for assault charges to be laid. However, Sally had already brought charges against him for assault and had declared that any injuries inflicted on him were in self-defence. I was a troubled guy who made my way into bed that night, mainly because it was the first Saturday night for a long time that I had gone to bed sober and it was a worrying thought that maybe I should do it more often.
This brings me now to the beginning of my story. Me standing next to a newsagent in the middle of Sunday morning and seeing the female version of me on the front page of the paper under the banner headline “Who is this woman?” I idly pretended to gaze at the magazines while I read the rest of the article. They couldn’t make up their mind if I was a ‘mad bitch’ or a heroine. The photo was good, though. Taken during the march I was out in front of the crowd with Kelly and Sally to each side and a bit behind me so it didn’t look like we were together. I had to stifle a giggle when I read that the wife of the politician had expressed a relief that his injuries may stop his wandering ways and even better that she would not have to bear another child to him as his son was bad enough. The paper then listed a few of the allegations against the son; alongside those allegations of the father. The list showed that the apple does certainly not drop far from the tree.
I went to the supermarket, trying to look as invisible as I could, and bought my usual six-pack of lager and a newspaper, carefully folded so that the picture didn’t show. That was all in vain as the check-out operator was full of praise for the gallant maiden who struck a blow for the women of the area. Back home I showed the paper to the rest of the family and my father was finally given the information that the girl he would gladly kiss was sitting in front of him and sharing her lager with him. I was worried how he would take it but he gave out a great hoot of laughter and called me a true Granger, no matter if was wearing womens clothes at the time.
We had a light lunch and while we were tidying up my phone rang. I realised that my ringing tone of ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ was now more appropriate than before. It was Kelly and she told me that a friend had called her to say that the police were starting to round up the others in the group and that I had better get out of town for a while. She spoke to my sisters for a while and then they went into action when she rung off.
An hour later I was once again in womens jeans, a satin top, boots and some accessories. This time I also had a voluminous bag with lots of donated items that the girls could not wear any more but fitted me, as well as a full set of cosmetics. As Kelly pulled up outside my father did actually give me a kiss on the cheek and told me I made a ‘Bonny lass.’ This made me giggle and I told him that Kelly told me I was her Bonnie and that it may be that she was to be my Clyde for the near future. As we rode away quietly we passed a couple of police cars going the other way a few roads from the house.
At her place she insisted that she take control of my new persona and two hours later I was standing in front of her big mirror, looking at the raven haired girl with a pixie face and a pastel dress that accentuated her new shape. We found some of Kellys’ shoes that I could wear at a pinch – pinch being the operative word. Actually Kelly declared that they did make me walk in a feminine way which was good. When Kelly stood beside me in a similar dress it was like seeing two peas in the same pod. All of our clothes were in two overnight bags and a taxi had been ordered to take us to the bus terminus; a ruse as we were actually going to walk a little way further on and take a late train north, all organised by Kelly on her phone. We left both our phones in a drawer with the batteries out and the Sim cards removed as I had been told that you could be tracked from the towers.
It all worked well, the taxi driver asked us where we were off to and Kelly told him we were bound for Exeter. We waited until he was out of sight and then picked up our bags and walked to the train station. It was odd walking past guys who gave us appreciative looks and Kelly told me to get used to it, now I was a man magnet. On the way I used my card at the cash point and almost emptied my account. In the railway station rest room we both changed out of the pastel dresses and into a blouse and skirt each, to further muddy the trail. I must say that when I saw us in the reflection of and advertising poster I thought that we both looked good. The train was a slow one that deposited us in Newcastle upon Tyne very early the Monday morning. We were both weary from the trip, not getting much sleep, and I wondered just what we would do now.
As we came out of the station a genuine biker dyke pushed herself away from the old Cortina she was leaning against and cried “Kelly, my old Darling, so good to see you.” They hugged and kissed, I mean really kissed. Kelly then said “Janey; I would like you to meet Bonnie, my girlfriend.” Janey then took me in her enormous arms and planted a smacker on my own lips. When she pulled back she said “If you ever give this one away, let me know first.”
We stowed our bags in the Cortina and I got in the back seat. With the other two in the front they chatted as we drove into the city area. From their conversation I realised that Janey had been the one that Kellys’ father had not been happy about and that we were now in her home town. At a block of flats Janey drove into the car-park and then into a numbered space. We all got out and, carrying our bags, went to the lift and then up to the sixth floor where we were led to what I would describe as an apartment rather than just a flat. Janey showed us the spare room and where we could use a bathroom and then said, “Gotta rush, they need me at work” and left us alone.
I sat on the bed and said “OK Kelly, what gives. We are in your home town and staying with your old flame. What happens now?” She went into the kitchenette and put the kettle on and we sat by the window, sipping tea and looking out at the Tyne in the distance while she gave me all the information I needed. She told me that her and Janey had got together at school and that, as I suspected, it was introducing Janey to her father had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. They had lived together for a while but Kelly had decided that she could do better for herself and she smiled at me when she said that she had done better than she could ever have expected.
Janey was now going with a very nice girl that they had also gone to school with but who was a legal secretary so they did not live together and really didn’t get out much either. We were, she said, good here for a week until we see how things worked out down south. We made some toast to go with our drinks and then went to shower. I must admit that I had showered more times in the last three days than the previous three months but was starting to realise that it was essential for my disguise. We shook out our pastel dresses again and put them on. Kelly helped me with my make-up and she put the spare key she had been given into her bag and we were off for a walk.
The week passed quietly, no worries about visits from the police. We met the other girl and explained our situation to her and she promised that she would keep her ear open but thought that there could be extenuating circumstances that would get me off with a caution or a fine. Next time she saw us she said that the police still wanted to talk to me and that they did not think that I would be spending my days as a girl, considering that the Saturday was the first time. On the Friday evening we all went to a pub for a drink and I kept to a couple of glasses of wine, as befitting the sheath dress I was wearing.
Janey and her girlfriend left to go somewhere to shack up and we were sitting at the table when a couple of lads sat down beside us and chatted us up. Not wanting to make a disturbance we went along with it. When we left the pub they suggested we go into the park next door for a bit of nooky. I was just about to make a scene when Kelly nudged me and pointed out a couple of coppers sitting in their car watching us. So I took a big breath and told Dave, my guy, that I was on the rag so he said he didn’t mind as he liked blow jobs better. We went into the park and he sat me on a bench and stood in front of me and unzipped his pants.
I knew what I would have liked in the same situation so I started out by kissing his dick and licking his shaft. I could hear Kelly getting screwed against a tree behind me and wondered just what this would do for our relationship. I carried on working on him and when he came, his dick deep down my throat, he said “Wow, that was the best one yet.” After I had licked him clean and swallowed the last of his cum I stood up and he kissed me for the first time that night. Now, I suppose that it was different giving a guy a blow job but it was his kiss that caused me to get flutters in my stomach and we pashed for a little while until his mate pulled away from Kelly with a stupid grin on his face. What I didn’t expect was the stupid grin on her face as well.
Marianne G 2021
Leader of the Pack Part 4
After we had kissed the guys goodnight we walked back to the apartment. Kelly was very quiet and went straight into the toilet when we let ourselves in. When she came out she remarked that it had been fun getting screwed standing up but the juices tended to run down her leg as we walked home.
She then said something that I did not expect. “Bonnie. I know you think that I am a bit crazy talking about your cock as if it was a dildo. It has been my shield against my fear of men. Over the past week we have made love, I mean, real love and you have shown me that I had nothing to worry about. Tonight was not something I could have done a few weeks ago but it was just sex. He enjoyed it and I must say I did as well, but not as much as I enjoy having you in me. I guess that giving your guy a blow job was something very new for you too but you didn’t freak out. Tonight, can we please make love with you completely as Bertram? I want Bog in me tonight and I want us to go out tomorrow and get Bog some new clothes that he can wear with pride.”
So we washed the other guys off of us in the shower and she douched herself. We went to bed as man and woman for the first time and she allowed me to take control but I did so with my knowledge of what really turned her on. In the morning she was there, with her head on my shoulder for the first time and she said that she loved me as a man and not as Bonnie. We discussed the name situation and I said that I was fed up at being Bog and didn’t like Bertram or Bertie either. We decided on Oliver or Ollie and she laughed and said that she loved Ollie even more than Bonnie.
That Saturday I went braless and, together, we went to the city shops and bought good mens clothes –slacks, shirts and boots that didn’t have a heel. I found that my time as Bonnie had given me an appreciation of good, soft clothes that I had never had before. We also got a new phone so we could be back in contact when the coast was clear. Back at the apartment I changed into my new gear and we went out again, this time to a barber where my long hair was taken back to a fifties film star look which, with it still black, looked good on me. I then took her to a movie and we sat in the back row and kissed like a normal date before going for a meal and then back to the apartment and bed.
In the morning she took the phone with her into the toilet and I could hear her talking to someone but they must have been doing most of the talking as I heard long silences. Once we had our breakfast she said that she was sorry that I may be in for a surprise but she had been on the phone to her father and had told him that she wanted to visit. He would send a car for us which would be outside the apartment block in an hour. I asked her if she was sure of this and she said that I had given her the courage, and the reason, to do it.
We stood outside the building as a smart young couple as the car pulled up. I was in all my new stuff and felt a bit upper middle-class and she had one of her pastel dresses on and looked beautiful. When the car stopped the driver got out and gave her a hug, saying “Miss Kelly, it has been too long and you look really good. Who is this young man?” She said “Grover, this is Ollie, my boyfriend and it is so good to see you too.” In the back of the car she explained that when she was young she used to call him Grover the Drover as he would drive her to school.
He took us to a reasonable size estate some way out of town and I was starting to understand what she had given up by coming out to her father. At the door I helped her out and she looked a little worried about the meeting to come and then the front door opened and a florid, elderly man came out, took a good look at me before breaking out into a smile and putting his arms around her. There were a few tears and a lot of hugging before they broke apart and he said that he had really missed her and was sorry for his reaction to her lesbianism and that he had come to realise that he had been too quick to react. She told him that it was all right and that she loved him and had never stopped loving him, knowing that his reaction was a product of the church and associates that he knew.
He shook my hand firmly and looked me up and down. “Are you sure this isn’t one of your dyke friends?” he said and Kelly laughed and said that she could testify that I was all male and all of me worked. He smiled and then said “Welcome to our house, son, I knew she would throw off that LGTB shit sooner or later and I am glad that it turned out to be the sooner.” I smiled nicely and thought of what he may say if he knew that the change of heart had only happened in the last day or so. It also struck me that he may be less happy had he seen his daughter with her back to a tree and getting seriously screwed.
That was all water under the bridge and we went into the house with a lot more bridges to rebuild. The place was massive and the entry area was like a show home or reception centre. He led us into a side room that was much more homely with comfortable chairs and a sideboard covered in photos, most of which featured the two in the room with me. Many had a very lovely woman who I took to be the wife and mother. He saw me looking at them and asked me what I thought. I pointed to the father/daughter ones and said “I can understand how your daughters’ lifestyle must have been like a kick in the guts. I can also see that you never stopped loving her.”
“I have met one of her companions and she did not exhibit all the fine qualities of femininity, even though I am sure she had those qualities in abundance. It is too easy to be sidetracked by the immediate reaction and do something you live to regret. I had no idea what Kelly gave up to live the life she did but she must have seen the need at the time. I have loved her for a long time but we only got together very recently. I feel that I have known her all my life and, by association feel very comfortable in your company as well. I am so glad that she plucked up the courage to call you as it would have been a terrible sacrifice to go on as she was.”
That was, by far, the longest serious speech I had made in a very long time. He rubbed his chin and then asked me what I did for a living and I told him that up to a week ago I was a cycle courier but it was unlikely that the job was still mine, having come with Kelly on the spur of the moment. He asked me what I would like to do and I told him that I had always wanted to be an artist but my social strata made that sort of wish difficult. He went to a small intercom and asked Grover if he could bring us a sketchbook and some pencils and I did say that I had not touched a sketchbook in a while.
When the items were brought to me, I sat quietly while father and daughter reunited. After a while he asked me if I was any good with boats and, if I was, could I sketch him a super luxury private yacht. When I finished the sketch of the two of them I thought about the pictures I had seen of luxury yachts and drew something that I thought these had missed out being. When they had run out of things to say after about an hour; they took my sketches and looked at them. Kelly was very pleased at the picture of the two of them and she gave me a big kiss, telling me that every bit of the skin I had hid myself in came off to reveal something else wonderful. He looked at the boat sketch and asked me if I could stay around a while as he liked it.
That’s when I found out that this was the family business. He had a boatyard on the Tyne river mouth where he made everything from a rowboat upwards. We went for lunch in the dining room and I used all the skills I had learned as Bonnie to be proper. We chatted and he had my picture on the table in front of him. He said “Just as a game, Oliver, what would you put in a boat like this and where would you put it.” So, just as a game, I let my imagination run riot. Some of the things I came up with caused much merriment and others caused his brow to crease in thought.
After lunch he got Grover to get the car out and we went to the shipyard, which was, of course, closed up, being Sunday. I was amazed at the range of boats being built or repaired but there was nothing as big as the one we had been speaking about. He opened up a door into the main building and led the way to a room which I could see was the drafting office. There, tacked to the wall was a drawing of a vessel the size we had been speaking about and, I must say, it looked drab and uninteresting. “My guys have spent a month with this and you came up with something far more beautiful in an hour or so” he said. I replied that mine may not pass all of the tests with speed, safety and ocean-going capability and that his guys had probably taken all of that into the mix with their design.
“That’s the point” he said “They have started with the rules and regulations and it looks like a piece of crap. You have started with something looking good. It would be up to the engineers to make it work right but nothing they did would ever detract from your design.” We left and he locked up and then he took us to the apartment block where we packed up all our things and Kelly left a note for Janey, along with several bank-notes. Back at the house we were shown to a room which Kelly declared was her old room and that nothing had been changed. I don’t know about the heavy metal band posters but the rest of it was nice. We put all of her clothes away and added my Bonnie gear to it. My side looked decidedly meagre and she hugged me and told me that I would need to get some more now as she was certain that Bonnie would not be needed. Oliver was now ‘in the building!’
Marianne G 2021
Leader of the Pack Part 5
We had a good dinner and I was starting to appreciate the finer things in life. He told me to call him Jim and introduced me to the finer points of a good whiskey. When it got to the point of why we were here, in the city, and not down south there was a strained silence until I decided that we should really come clean.
I asked him if he had a computer in the house that we could use and we gathered in his office. Once it was up and running I asked him to look up the local London Sunday paper and the look on his face when the front page loaded was priceless. He picked out Kelly immediately and then asked who the other two girls were. Kelly told him that one was the Sally that was mentioned in the article and the other was standing next to him. He let out a hoot and then said, “So the lad is a dyke in his spare time”. This led to us telling him how I had found myself looking like a girl at the head of a protest march. He then read the rest of the story and was serious when he asked if I had actually put the politician in hospital. I said the ambulance had done that but I did give him a reason to go.
He then carried on looking at the paper after Sunday, something that interested us as well as we had not had any communication with home since we left. On Monday the news broke that the leader of the pack could have been a drag artist wrestler hired for the day. On Tuesday the lead story was that the politician wanted to press charges. Wednesday the lawyers acting for Sally in her own assault case said that they would work for the mystery man or woman as they had certain information that would ensure her being acquitted of any charge.
Friday the news broke that someone had admitted that the mystery girl was, in fact Bertram Granger and the police said that they wanted to speak to him as a matter of urgency but he was no-where to be found. The Saturday paper, however, was the one that caused me to gasp. It reported that Sallys’ lawyers had been given a piece of video, taken by one of the girls in the protest group, that clearly showed the politician attacking Sally and then shouting at me with his hand brought back to smack me down. It was, they declared a certain fact that any action I had taken was purely in self-defence. It was odd to see a picture of me, from the back, as the leader, shouting and shaking my dirty blonde hair in anger.
Today’s paper had a picture of his wife leaving the family home with her suitcases being loaded into a taxi. She had a big smile on her face and was quoted as saying that she planned to get every penny she could when the divorce went through. The wayward son was standing at the door, obviously wondering who would cook and clean for him now. At the end of the article it said that although the police still wanted to speak to Bertram Granger, they had no further intentions of laying charges, having viewed the video themselves. They stated that they would now support Sally in laying charges.
“Well” he said “That is a hell of a story and I do have to say that the politician is not one I would support. Hell, I would strike a medal for you myself. The thing is that now you two need to go back down south and present yourselves to the police station as an act of public obedience. It would look good and would look even better if it was fully covered by the press. Leave this with me and we will sort it out. If I do, will you come back here and work for me?”
I looked at Kelly and said “I think that I would like that, sir, as long as it included taking Kelly as my wife.” Kelly said “I will take that as a proposal and give my answer when you come up with a ring.” Jim started laughing and we joined in. It was a magic moment and it cemented our relationship from that time on.
On Monday morning he took us to see his own lawyers and they went through the story with us. We gave an accurate account of why we were there and how I came to be there dressed as a girl. We did not need to give any detail of what we had done while in Newcastle and I think that it was a given that my new look was a case of disguise. I, of course, did not say that I had spent the week in dresses. They got onto the lawyers mentioned in the article and a serious discussion was entered into. The upshot was that the London firm would arrange for me to present myself at the police station and that they would arrange all of the ‘bells and whistles’, including representing me if I wanted to lay a charge of attempted assault.
After lunch I called my mother and she was very relieved to hear from me. I told her that I would be back in the city tomorrow and would be at the police station at ten on Wednesday morning but would not be coming home until after the reporters had been satisfied, to keep the family out of it. She told me that they had been hounded for comments but had said nothing. I next rang my boss at the courier company and apologised for not showing up last week. He laughed and said that he fully understood after seeing the paper and that I made a really good woman. He then said to drop in to the office as he wanted to give me my wages as well as a little bonus from all the lads as a thank you for dropping the bastard who had made their lives a misery with all of the regulations he wanted to bring in. So far we had not anybody who liked the man; I suppose his mother still loved him.
That was blown out of the water the next day when we looked at the on-line edition. His own mother told the press that her son was an utter bastard, had always acted like a bastard and that it was all only proper as he was actually a bastard. She refused to have anything to do with her grandson and finished her rant by saying she hoped they both rotted in hell. The picture showed her daughter-in-law standing behind her chair with the caption ‘Battered wife finally finds peace with her mother-in-law.’
Early Tuesday afternoon we all went to London in the car with Grover driving. Jim had booked us into his usual hotel and had told the manager that we did not want to be disturbed by the press during our stay. Wednesday morning I was up and dressed early and we had a breakfast sent up to the rooms. Grover took us to the lawyer’s office and then they took us to the police station where the reporters were already assembled. At first they were not interested as we got out of the car but then saw the main lawyer and recognised Kelly. That got the cameras flashing but they ignored me, much to my amazement.
I left them to it and went into the police station and the duty sergeant told me to stay out of the way as a media circus was coming through when they had finished outside. I stood with him and we watched as the media realised that the one person they wanted to see wasn’t there. The sergeant made the comment that maybe he had got scared and done a runner. I replied that I was not scared and would be happy to talk with the media if they bothered to ask. He shook with laughter and pointed to the picture behind me taken at the protest with the caption ‘Dangerous woman wanted for questioning’. I asked him if I could have a copy for my scrapbook and he took it off the wall, folded it and gave it to me. He picked up his phone and dialled a number, saying “That mad woman you wanted to speak to is down at the counter, guv.”
A uniformed inspector came through the door, took a quick look at me and said “Where the bloody hell is she, then?” and there was a nod in my direction as I stood angelically beside him. “You! Impossible.” He cried “Who are the press tormenting then?” I said it was Kelly, the other girl from the march, with Sallys’ lawyers who were supposed to be looking after me but seemed to have been side-tracked. He got a bunch of uniforms outside to take charge and it wasn’t long before we were all in a meeting room giving our statements. The consensus from the police was that it was all sorted out and that I was clear to go, with a caution, but that I did make a very good woman. I thought there was a guy in Newcastle who thought that as well, from personal experience.
Back outside the press had mostly gone and the couple that had hung on got a scoop picture of Kelly and me coming out of the police station, hand in hand. They also got a scoop when it was revealed that I was, in fact, the Bertram Granger that they wanted to speak to. I gave them a reasonable story about the protest, from my point of view, and we told them that Kelly and I were not ‘on the run’ but had gone north to visit her father. Said father now turned up. He took Kelly to his car after thanking the legal team and I then saw my mother looking around her. I went over and said “Hello, Mum, don’t you recognise your own offspring, then?”
She gave a little squeal and cried “Bog, is that really you. You look so stylish and the black hair suits you.” We hugged and I pulled her over to meet Kelly and her father. I told her that I would be moving to Newcastle to take on a good job but would keep in touch, especially when the wedding came around. She said, in a low voice “You’re not marrying Kesso the Lesso are you?” I said that the lesso bit was just a passing phase and that we were deeply in love. Jim was very nice and told my mother that she had a very talented and caring son, to which my mother gave me an old-fashioned look. We took her home in the car and they waited while I looked around my old room and decided that there wasn’t much of the old me I wanted to take into the future. With a small bag in my hand I went back down and kissed my mother, telling her that the girls can do what they wanted with what was left, and we got back into the car and drove away.
I asked Grover if we could go via the courier office and when I walked inside my boss said “Afternoon, lad, do you want a job done, then?” I laughed and told him I was here for my wages and he said “Bloody hell, lad, you do scrub up well and the short hair is a proper job.” He called the lads to see me and they, too, were amazed by my new look. They had a picture from the paper tacked on the wall so I called Kelly in and we both signed it for them. No-one noticed that I had put Bonnie Granger and she had signed Kelly Clyde. The guys had collected a few pounds for me and I thanked them for their support and friendship before we left.
And so my time as a woman was over and my time as a ship designer, husband and father started. My family joined me and my new son when my very proud father-in-law introduced his beautiful daughter Kelly to name our first luxury yacht when we launched it. Officially it was the Belvedere Ocean Going Grande Yacht but, in house we called the project ‘Boggy 1’.
Marianne G 2021