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Bluebell Hill By Paul1954 Prologue Rochester University, Kent, England : October 27th, 2000 Elizabeth Geddes watched the backs of the three young men as they departed from her office and then closed her eyes tightly. Despite the hard facade she had just had to show to them she knew, more than they could ever be aware of, just exactly how they had felt. She heard a muffled curse as the door slammed shut behind them, and experienced what she might have thought of as a feeling of Deja Vu, except that this time, she knew better. She felt the urge to press her palms over her eyes, wanting to squeeze the delicate skin around them to stop the tears that she felt beginning to form, but stopped herself, knowing that doing so would only ruin her make up. She waited a few moments before walking over to the window and then watched her erstwhile visitors trudge across the compound, their shoulders slumped dejectedly. As they finally disappeared from sight she gave a sigh of relief and she felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. She knew that she had set in motion a train of events that would close a chapter on her life that had been open for over thirty- three years now, and that she had fulfilled any obligation she might have felt that she had. Now, maybe, this might be the time to retire and enjoy the fruits of her labours, and to also spend more time with her family! At fifty-one years of age she had just become a Grandmother again and her husband Alan had been nagging her to slow down for nearly a year now, not understanding what was driving her on so. That was something that she had never discussed. She dabbed a tissue to the corner of her eye to soak up the moisture that had started to build there, and said a prayer for the three men she had just seen, and for one in particular. * * * * * * * Narrative of Philip Edwards Bluebell Hill, Kent, England: November 10th 2000 It was a typical early November morning and the dank air seemed to penetrate right through the Gore-Tex clothing I wearing, to my very skin. I gave a shudder, mostly prompted by the cold but not entirely, and looked across at my two friends Gregory and James, who were digging a three-foot deep, by six-foot trench alongside the road. "Come on guys - it's almost six o'clock now and it'll soon be light. We'd better get a move on," I called out to them, and watched their pale faces suddenly appear as they lifted their heads in response to my call. "Shut it Phil - if you'd have gotten your hands dirty as well and helped us out, then we would have finished by now!" Greg retorted as he picked up his shovel and stood straight. "What - and ruin my nails!" I said posing, and shifting my weight onto one hip in a feminine gesture. "I can't help it if I'm the short slight one who drew the short straw. You're the big strong guys with all the muscles and besides, don't forget that it's me who gets to do the truly risky part - that was the deal. Now, stop griping - we'll just have to come back tomorrow and finish it off then." Five minutes later the three of us were walking back through the woodlands that surrounded the area on the two-mile trek that would take us back to the lodgings we shared, just off campus. "I still can't believe that we're actually going to go through with this. If we get found out then that's it as far as the University's concerned," Greg said as he shook his head from side to side. "And if we don't then that's also it, as far as the University's concerned - or have you forgotten?" James replied sarcastically, his voice carrying more than just a degree of irritation. "Yeah - but at least we wouldn't be running the risk of getting arrested!" "What for a stunt! Well just who the hell are we harming anyway?" James growled. "Us - they might claim that this is fraud - obtaining money by deception, or something like that," Greg snapped back. "Guys - guys! Cool it, will you. Look Greg, I don't like this any more than you do, but unless you can come up with a better idea at this late hour, then I don't see that we've got much choice but to go through with it. Besides, we all agreed to this. It's too late to back out now" I broke in, trying to calm things down. "Yeah - unless we can get the publicity this'll give us then we'll never get the grant extended to continue our research. This is just a means to an end and you know that," James finished, with some bitterness. Nothing further was said and we carried on in silence, with only the sound of our shoes stomping through the undergrowth, or the occasional cracking noise made by our stepping on a dried out branch, breaking the peace. Forty-five minutes later we were all drinking from mugs of steaming hot tea, and munching on large bacon sandwiches as the cold and dampness was slowly driven out of our bones. We sat in virtual silence, contemplating the highly dubious nature of our planned stunt, but knowing that unless we pulled it off successfully, then everything that we had worked for these last two years would be at an end. We couldn't let that just happen without at least trying something! * * * * * * * We were currently on a three-year investigation into the paranormal, attached to the local University who were sponsoring our studies. We had been tolerated, I suppose is the word, up until now, but after being summoned in to see the Principal yesterday, we had been told that all projects were currently under review following cutbacks in Government funding. We were under no illusions as to what that meant, thinking it highly likely that our project would be amongst the first to go. Why else would we have been called in to see her, right! I can remember it so clearly, leaving her office after hearing that news. That stuck up cow had sat there so calmly and told us that our two years of work was under review, and was most probably about to finish. Oh, she didn't actually say those words - she didn't have the guts for that - but we all knew that was what she meant. We had been so angry. The first time that she had actually spoken directly to any of us, she had always kept her distance from our project for some reason, and it was to tell us that! Well, what would she know about our work? It was just typical of the current lack of vision in our education system that something like our investigations would be the first to go, the apparent lack of any discernible immediate way of profiting from our studies would soon see to that. There just had to be more to life - or death - than money though. Hadn't there? Of course, we were all very depressed by this turn of events, but although we didn't realise it at the time, it was our work itself that would give us our best chance of salvaging something, and being allowed to see our project through. To be more precise, one of our investigations in particular. We had been investigating one of the local legends, that of a young girl named Beth, Beth Partridge, who had been returning home late one night, some thirty-three years ago. She had been returning home following a social event of some sort but had missed the last bus, and decided to catch a lift home. She was killed in an ensuing accident in the car that had picked her up, just days before her planned marriage. Legend has it that she re-appears on the anniversary of her death, looking as real as you or I, and then goes through this whole procedure again. This is to the extent of getting picked up by some unsuspecting motorist but then, subsequently, disappearing without a trace. To have something like this on our own doorstep certainly seemed providential so we determined to base our next dissertation on this case, and see if we could find evidence, or better still, to actually see her ghost ourselves. We set at our task with a passion and soon managed to track down and interview two motorists who alleged that they had given her a lift, the second being only last year. It got even better as they had both given incredibly accurate descriptions of her that actually tallied. These checked out with her photograph that we had managed to find from the press archives. Most intriguing of all though, was the fact that both had held a seemingly intelligent conversation with her whilst giving her a lift, and then - without warning - she had just disappeared, into nowhere, leaving them both shaken up somewhat. Yes - we had become quite enamoured with our Beth, and had planned to stake out Bluebell Hill at the point where it was reputed that she would appear, the very next week. At least that had been the plan, up until the day that we had heard about the likely cancellation of our project. It had been the following evening after hearing the bad news, when we were visiting our local hostelry and commiserating with each other over a few pints, when James had suddenly perked up. "You know," he had said, "if only we could get a corroborated sighting next week, when that girl's due to make another appearance, then I think we could generate enough publicity to embarrass those holding the purse strings into continuing our funding. We could even make it onto the national news, if we played our cards right. I don't see how they could possibly cancel us if we managed that." "Nice thought James, but you know we can't guarantee that she'll make another appearance, and even if she did that anyone would see, or stop, for her!" I'd replied, before downing my ale and ordering another round of drinks. He went quiet for a few moments; his face a picture of intense concentration, and then looked back at us both again, suddenly animated. "Maybe there is a way of 'guaranteeing' her appearance," he said as our fresh order of beer arrived. "And just how can we do that?" Greg joined in, his tone more sneering that curious. "Well haven't those that have seen her say she looks as real as anyone else. Here - let me show you," he said, pointing to me and pulling my hair out of its ponytail as I tried to shrug him aside, unsuccessfully, as my hair fell to my shoulders. "At least as real as Phil here!" Greg just snorted and put his face back into his beer, whilst I pulled away from him. "They also said that she stood about five foot eight, reasonably tall for a girl - about Phil's size I reckon," he continued and I started to shuffle uncomfortably at all this unexpected attention that I was receiving. Greg remained non-committal. "They also say that she was of medium build, had sandy coloured hair, and looked in her very early twenties - just like Phil here!" Suddenly, I could see where this was leading. "Whoa - now just you hold on a minute! If you're thinking what I think you're thinking then you can count me out!" I cried out, indignant that he was even suggesting that I might be taken for a girl. "Are you going to let me in on what's going on, or is this a private matter?" Greg joined in, suddenly showing interest, as James face took on a scheming grin. "What I was about to suggest Greg, was that Phil here could be our means to salvation if he thinks about more than just himself, for once! We've all just agreed that a timely re-appearance by our local spectre could keep our project going, so all I'm suggesting is that we just make sure that she does. How about it Phil!" "No way! There is no chance. I am not going to pose as some girl, especially a dead girl at that, whatever the reason!" Well that was what I had thought, but the next evening both James and Greg came to my room, carrying a large bag, and acting all mysterious. "Hi guys!" I had said, "I haven't seen you all day - have you been up to something?" I said innocently, getting increasingly nervous as I saw a devious smile play across James mouth. "Oh, I've just been home to borrow a few things from my family," he said as he placed the bag on my table and started unzipping it. I stood there numb as I watched him take out a blouse, what looked to be a short skirt, some various items of underwear and finally, some accessories before laying them out in front of me. I looked up at James, then at Greg, and then at James again as he told me how he had 'borrowed' some of his big sister's old clothing - things that she hadn't worn in years, and that they had looked about my size. Despite my ensuing protests both James and Greg used a combination of emotional blackmail and an indirect challenge upon my manhood to make me see otherwise, and gain my complicity. I sat silent as James laid out his plan for me to dress up as Beth Partridge, and to go through the same routine as she had done that fateful night. They would be there to talk to whoever was unlucky enough to pick me up after I had made good my escape. I said nothing at first as I looked at the pile of female clothing, but then reached out and picked up two particular items, a cream coloured bra and panty set. "But even if I agree to put on the rest of this stuff, don't you think that this is going a little too far?" "Well something's got to hold your fake tits in place, and if you're wearing that you might as well complete the outfit. It wouldn't look too good if someone caught a glimpse of your boxers underneath that skirt would it!" Fake tits! This was getting worse. "But why can't I wear some women's trousers or something - why this short skirt?" I pleaded, knowing somehow that I was going to lose this argument. "Because that is the type of clothing that the real Beth Partridge was wearing that night, and your description has to tally," came the reply. "But...but..." "Hey Phil!" Greg joined in, "I don't see what the big deal is about putting on a few girls things - that is, unless - well, unless you've maybe got something to worry about - maybe something to hide. You know, maybe you're nervous that you might get to like it too much, if you know what I mean." They had me every which way. I had always been a little self-conscious about my size; especially when compared to these two, and now they were hinting that I might even be some sort of closet sissy or something. Well, I just couldn't have that - could I? So there I was, just a half hour later, stripping off in front of my protagonists and slowly assembling a new me - a female me. I had felt so stupid at first, taking off all my clothes until I was down to just my shorts, and then having to take those off as well of course - at James insistence. "Come on James, let me just keep these on," I pleaded once again. "No, you can't keep your shorts - it's not as simple as that. You've got to feel feminine as well as look the part, and the panties will help you with that. Just think of it as a sort of method acting." Of course, just like everything that had happened since the previous evening, I soon capitulated, pulling down my shorts and then pulling up the cream (at least they weren't pink) cotton panties that I had held earlier. I noted how they hugged my genitals snugly - too snugly in fact, but they looked a little incongruous, the bulge in their front looking far from feminine. I might have guessed though. James even had an answer for that. "Here - just put this on," he had said, passing me what looked like a jockstrap but compressed, rather than protected, my manhood. A few moments later I had tucked myself in place and was presenting a much smoother outline, although it did cause me more than just a little discomfort. I ignored it though and the guys helped me into the bra and even a waistline corset, which they called a cincher, which made me somewhat short of breath, but gave me a much more feminine outline, especially when I was given additional padding for my hips. I had then slipped on the blouse and skirt before stepping into the two inch heels, and then attempted to give myself a perfunctory coating of lipstick, eye shadow and blusher before brushing my hair out straight, as directed. To be honest I didn't look too bad I thought, but the makeup was a little crude. Finally though, I was then made to stand in front of my friends for their examination, feeling very strange and awkward. "You know - she really doesn't look that bad!" Greg said, giving me a low wolf-whistle, which I did not appreciate. "Hey - enough of the she!" I bristled rather indignantly, maybe too indignantly. I was ready to quit there and then - the humiliation I felt at that point becoming just too much for me to bear, and just wanted to forget about the whole deal. James and Greg had other ideas though. Before I could do another thing each of them grabbed one of my arms. James then picked up a small bag and placed it in my hand, before leading me out of the room and into the hallway. I had no chance of stopping them, what with them both being stronger than me, and on top of that I was struggling to walk in the heels and short skirt I was wearing. I was about to shout and protest when one of my hall mates went walking by, and I decided I would be better not making a fuss. I did not want to be discovered in my current state - I would never live it down. By the time that I had recovered from that I was out in the street and I knew that whatever they wanted me to do I would have to go along with for now. I was at their mercy. As we walked along the pavement I was sure that I would be 'outted' within minutes, but suffice to say, I wasn't. They took me to the local pub, the one I was in now, and I attracted barely a glance, at least nothing but an admiring one, and remained unread until they eventually brought me home. I had to concede that this first foray as a girl had passed successfully. The die was now cast and there was little further I could think of to object to going through with this, unless I wanted to put an end to our research. * * * * * * * Well, that had been the start of it and as the rest of the week went by I was encouraged to dress up more and more, getting better at applying the make up that James had provided for me, and going out 'en-femme' on numerous occasions, often alone. My disguise, this time, had been far more thorough, even down to the shaving off of all the hair from my body, and I had no doubts that I could carry of this tribade - indeed, I was feeling more comfortable in my female persona by the day! Of course, at first I had protested again at having to dress up so often, feeling that what they were asking me to do was way over the top for what was likely to be only a minute or two's impersonation, but they had argued otherwise, James in particular. They told me that unless I was comfortable being who I was supposed to be, then it was more likely that my charade would be discovered, and that it would be me who would suffer most if that happened. I remained unconvinced but, as on the previous occasions, went along with it anyway. Now, there was just one more day before we put the plan into effect. The remainder of the day went by slowly, but we all settled in for an early night before getting up in the early hours of the morning to finish off the rest of the plan. Again, it was James suggestion, on how to effect 'Beth's', or myself as Beth, sudden disappearance. Tomorrow night I would dress up in the style of clothing that the original Beth had worn and wait at the point where she had originally been picked up from. I would then do my best to mimic her movements, which consisted of sitting in the back of the car as she had done, and engaging in a light conversation, of the type that the witnesses had described. I was nervous about doing this but had been practising with a female voice and although I didn't really sound like a girl, I no longer sounded like a man either. Once in the car, and approaching the point of the accident in Bluebell Hill, James and Greg would arrange for the car I would be travelling in to stop and pull over by the side of the road, after staging some sort of accident they told me. At that point, whilst they spoke to the driver, I would slip out and quickly roll into the prepared ditch, covering myself with the brown tarpaulin that we had 'borrowed' and, effectively, disappearing from sight. The driver would, no doubt, want to search for me but the guys would make sure that he was kept well away from where I would be hiding. We were confident that I wouldn't be spotted in the dark. This would be the point when they would explain about the legend of Beth, and get an on the spot quote and another eye-witness account from the driver, before he got a chance to think too hard about what had happened. That should give us enough material to whip up the required publicity. Fool-proof? Nearly. Maybe? We would soon find out. This time, I didn't join the guys on their nocturnal gardening, claiming that I needed my beauty sleep if was going to be at my best later on. Well, I might as well milk it for what it was worth! They returned about 6:00am and told me that everything was set. * * * * * * * Narrative of Philip Edwards (continued) Rochester University, Kent, England: November 11th 2000 By the time that evening came around I was feeling very nervous, and I started preparing my disguise far earlier than I needed to, just so that I would have something to occupy my mind with. I had sent the guys away, wanting to make my preparations in private, and when I heard them return at about 11:00pm I was ready for them. "Come in guys," I said opening the door, and noted their appreciative glances as they took in the sight of me. "Wow!" James exclaimed. "Are you sure that you don't prefer being this way? You make a better girl than you ever did as a boy - in fact I'd say you were pretty hot!" "Don't push you luck. As soon as this is over then skirts are out for me - for good!" I answered, trying to sound authoritative but failing. "If you say so 'Beth'," he mocked. "But maybe you'd give me a date first eh!" he mocked me, causing me to go a bright shade of red and then ducking as I threw a bag at him. From the look on his face I wasn't that sure that he didn't mean it! We then set off to get a lift from one of Greg's friends off towards Bluebell Hill. It was quite funny really, if I stopped to think about it. His friend didn't know that the pretty girl sitting in the back of his car was actually a man - we hadn't let anyone else in on this stunt - and I saw him checking me out on numerous occasions. Even funnier - I actually found that it made me feel quite good to know that I could elicit this response, but them shrugged those thoughts aside as we arrived at our destination. I eased myself out of the car, giving anyone watching a display in the process, my feminine training had not included getting in and out of cars, and we watched our lift disappear, leaving us standing by the roadside. James looked at his watch and then at the ever thinning traffic. "Okay then - Greg and I are going to go the couple of miles or so down the road to where the ditch is and then make our preparations to stop the car that you're going to be in." "Wait a minute," I said, suddenly feeling really worried for the first time, "how are you going to know which car I'm in?" They had never mentioned this small detail. Greg fished around inside his jacket and passed me a mobile phone. "Here - I've borrowed this. It's programmed to dial me with whatever button you press. As soon as you see a car stopping just press a number and then quickly let me know about the car's details. Leave it on and we will be able to hear when you're approaching if you can drop a hint or two." It seemed simple enough and after checking our plan one last time, they both set off. As I watched them walk off into the distance I suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed at being left alone like this. To all intents and purposes I was a pretty young girl, soon to be standing by the side of the road, alone and wearing only a light jacket and a very short skirt for protection. For now though, I was hiding behind some shrubbery, and would be staying here for the next forty-five minutes until the guys were in place. I shivered as I felt the cool night air caress my exposed thighs and ease their way up my short skirt, and I folded my arms underneath my fake breasts to give myself an illusion of comfort. Eventually, after what seemed to be hours to me, I stared at the small wristwatch I was wearing and saw that it was almost time for me to make my entrance. With a nervous gesture I smoothed down my skirt one last time, and then walked as casually as I could manage, over to the roadside, as ready as I ever would be, to see if I could get a lift. I reached the spot where it was reputed the original Beth got picked up and listened carefully, my every sense straining as I tried to pick up the sound of an approaching car, but there was nothing. In fact the more I listened I realised that there was no sound whatsoever - it was as if all time had stood still. I was starting to get spooked. The total silence was now beginning to unnerve me. "Now come on Phil - don't go scaring yourself. A car will come along at any moment," I said to myself, as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, my voice being the only sound to break the still of the night. Still no sound came and I was beginning to get seriously spooked by now, and was wondering what on Earth had possessed me to undertake such a foolhardy venture. I was on the point of quitting and calling the guys when I felt a dank chill start to settle over my whole body. It was similar to that I had felt the other morning, but more oppressive. I was rooted to the spot, completely unable to move, but then I heard the sound of a distant car approaching which broke the moment. As the sound got louder I had another moment of indecision, doubting the wisdom of what I was about to do. I mean, this car could contain a murderer, a rapist or worse if that was possible, and I would be in no condition to fend off a determined attacker in my current state of dress. I was sure that I was going through the same self doubts that any woman would go through in a similar situation and again, felt like backing out, but my body though, seemed to make up its own mind. I felt like an onlooker as my arm began to lift and then, as my thumb raised, I saw a black car approach me out of the gloom. It was a black BMW 316i. I managed to gain enough self-control to quickly call Greg on his mobile, and had just enough time to give a description of the car as it pulled up alongside me. I quickly stashed the mobile in my bag as the window wound down. An attractive (where did that come from?) man in his twenties looked me up and down and then smiled. "Are you looking for a lift love?" I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. "Then jump in and I'll see what I can do - where are you going then?" he asked, and I opened the back door of his car and slid myself in, much to his disappointment, I sensed. I had no doubt that he would have preferred it if I had sat up front with him, but there was no way I was doing that. Again, I experienced a dread chill and I had the strangest notion that I was not alone, that I was sharing this moment in time and space with something, but did my best to ignore my growing concern, determined to see out our plan. I settled myself into the back seat, doing my best to keep my head in the shadows as I did so. Having got comfortable I was about to answer him, and give him the address where Beth had once lived, when the oppressive chill that I had felt just a few seconds ago, returned. I felt my stomach churn for a moment, in dread anticipation of what might happen next, but forced myself to give the driver Beth's address, in case he got suspicious. As soon as I had uttered them the chill disappeared but was quickly followed by a great heaviness and a felling of claustrophobia as the world around me seemed to slow down, and I felt as if everything was running in slow-motion. A moment later though, the world returned to normal and I heard the driver reply that he would be happy to take me where I asked as it was on his way. He then tried to strike up a conversation and started to ask me where I had been, and warned me about the perils of a girl dressed like I was being out on her own so late on her own. I tried to get back to the task in hand, and push my feelings of trepidation aside. I was prepared for something like this and got ready to use one of the scripts that I had been practising with, I wanted to be sure that my response was consistent with what we had been told before. Before I could say anything though, I became aware of another voice, young and female, already responding. "I was out late with some friends celebrating. It's my wedding this Saturday," I heard her say, and then realised that the words were emanating from my own mouth. I was horrified. This voice was nothing like my own, although I recognised the words as being those that I would have chosen to use myself, had I been given the chance. I tried to move but found myself paralysed, unable to even lift a finger as the driver continued the conversation. "Saturday huh! Well, give my best wishes to whoever you're marrying. He is one lucky man." "Thank you - and I'm a lucky girl!" I heard myself reply, still in the same voice cringing inwardly at calling myself a girl in such a way, but although I still felt the dread horror at my inability to influence these events I also felt a lightness and joy at the same time. It was as if my emotions were being influenced by whoever was speaking through me. The conversation continued in this vein, with no direct input from myself, until we crossed the brow of the hill and started to approach the point where I knew that James and Greg were waiting for our arrival. Thank God that this ordeal would soon be over for me, for I was not only a passenger in the car, but also my own body. Something else was controlling me, entirely. I felt an intense feeling of relief as I saw the flashing amber lights that I knew the guys must have put out on the road to stop the car. I felt the car starting to slow down and I made a determined effort to concentrate as hard as I could, trying to regain enough control of my body so that I could make my escape as planned. I was becoming desperate for this whole thing to end and was beginning to despair, but just at the point of the car stopping I suddenly felt a great weight lifting away from me and was free - free of what I suspected had been Beth's presence. I could see both Greg and James now as we got close to them and I could see them motioning for the driver to stop right next to where I knew the trench was. I tensed myself, getting ready to make good my escape and then suddenly, everything went very dark for a second and a feeling of nausea threatened to overwhelm me. I managed to recover though, but only in time to see us pulling away again. I was speechless - something had gone wrong - surely, the guys would have done something to have gotten me out of this otherwise! I turned my head to look through the rear window and saw them walking away from the roadside, but my mind went into overdrive as I saw another shape walking alongside them. It looked pretty indistinct but was undoubtedly another person, but who? I turned around again to look at the front, but then really started to panic. The whole inside of the car seemed different somehow, smaller and less plush, and even in the shadows, I could see that the driver was different. "It won't be much longer now miss?" the driver said to me, and I realised then that he must have been referring to the address that I had given him, to where Beth had once lived, but that wasn't all. His voice was different and the tone he used was far more reverential, old fashioned even. I looked out of the side windows and tried to see if I could recognise where we were but then started to feel disorientated, for the expected three-lane highway seemed to have narrowed down to a single lane. Moreover, there was very little housing around, indicating that we were further out in the countryside that I had anticipated we should be. How could that be? It was only about thirty seconds or so since we had pulled away again, and we couldn't have gotten that far, surely! I looked out of the windows once more, searching for a landmark of any kind that was familiar to me, and then recognised a pub that I knew, but it also seemed different, looking older, and also a bit smaller. As we went past it I realised that the conservatory that had been attached to its rear, wasn't there now. But it must have been - I had only been there three weeks ago and they surely couldn't have knocked it down since then! My mind was in a total fug now and I knew that this whole situation was very, very wrong and I felt on the verge of panic again, until the driver's voice caught my attention once more. "Did you hear me miss - I said are you all right?" I had been so preoccupied that I must have missed what he said first time. "Y...yes thank you. I am fi..." I started to say, but although I was now back in control of my body again, my voice was still as it had been earlier, when I had felt that something else was controlling me. I was still speaking in a young girl's voice! I tried to clear my throat and speak again, but it remained unmistakably female. My spine turned to jelly and I slowly looked down at myself. I saw the pale legs peeking out of the short skirt that, sitting down, was near the top of my thighs but then noticed, even in the dark, that the skirt didn't seem to be the same as the one I had put on earlier. This one seemed to be made of velvet where the other had been cotton. My eyes slowly crept up my body. I was scared to look any further but could not stop myself. I could see that I was now wearing a white tee- shirt covered by a short leather jacket. Again, this was very different from the blouse and denim jacket I had originally set off in. I suppose I should have totally panicked at this point because I recognised what I was now wearing was the same as the description of what Beth wore that night. We just hadn't been able to get exact copies of her clothing for this stunt. My hands seemed to move of their own volition towards my chest and although the prominent mounds seemed to be the same size I knew, as soon as I touched them, what was now hanging from my chest consisted of far more than just padding. There was no tissue paper in my bra now, for I could the real flesh inside the cups respond to the touch of my hand, sensitive, alive. They were real! I lost all sense of reality at that point knowing that, incredible as it may have seemed, that I was now a girl, complete in every way. I did not need to feel my crotch to confirm that - I just knew. Moreover, I knew just exactly who I was as well. I was now, somehow, Beth - Beth Partridge. A Beth Partridge who actually made it home that night and had never been in the accident that killed her. "Here you are miss. This is the address you gave me." Somehow I forced myself to move again, sliding out of the car gracefully as if I had been doing it all my life. I thanked the driver, still in my girlish voice, and then walked up to the front door of where I knew Beth lived. There was still a light on inside, although I think I would have preferred it if there hadn't been. A light meant that someone was probably waiting for me and I didn't know if I could face that yet. The choice was taken away from me though as, just feet away from it, I saw the door open, and an older lady in a dressing gown stood there, her face a mixture of concern and anger. "Beth!" she scolded, "I was so worried when you didn't get home on time. I suppose you missed that last bus again?" I nodded dumbly; accepting whatever fate had decided to throw at me, not having the strength or purpose to do otherwise. "And I suppose you accepted a lift from a stranger again - oh, how many times have I told you not to do that. It's not sensible for such a pretty young girl to be doing such a thing. One day you will live to regret it - you mark my words!" she berated me. In another world the real Beth Partridge did more than live to regret it - she died to regret! But where was I now? Was this that same world as my own, or had I, by the re-staging the events of her disappearance, somehow altered what had happened that night and entered into a different reality? Whatever had happened this night, some inner sense told me that this was now MY reality and that I would now live the life that Beth Partridge would have done, if she had never had that accident. Greg and James interference had changed that, forever. I looked up at the woman, my mother, and saw her relief and love for her daughter, clearly written all over her face. At least she would not have to go through the pain of losing a daughter now. I felt her hug me, having only one question that I needed to ask to banish for good, any lingering doubts. "M...Mother," I said stiltingly, still surprised at the sound of my new voice. "Yes child," she said, pulling away and looking me in the eyes. "What day is it today?" She looked at me strangely. "Why it's November 11th girl, but you know that surely!" "Yes mother, but what year?" I asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice. "Oh I see!" she said, smiling suddenly. "It's that little game again is it. Well, I'll be glad when tomorrows over and we can stop this nonsense, but just this last time I'll indulge you. As you well know - tomorrow is November 11th, nineteen sixty-seven, and by this time then, you will be married to that handsome man who is so smitten with you, Mr Alan Geddes." I stopped dead in my tracks - that name was familiar to me - I knew of from - yes .. the University! "Yes my girl, by this time tomorrow you will Mrs Elizabeth Geddes. Now come on - to bed. I'm tired, and what state do you think you will be in if you don't get your beauty sleep. Why, you'll frighten him away!" Elizabeth Geddes - the Principal from the college! I had assumed that Beth was short for Bethany, not an abbreviation of Elizabeth. Had fate decreed that I would become her? But that would mean .. "Come on girl, I just don't know what's gotten into you. You look as if you've had so kind of shick, but it'll have to wait until the morning now." I let this kindly woman - my mother - lead me up to Beth - Elizabeth's - bedroom, and settle me into bed, knowing that it would be at least another year until Phil was even born. I wonder what he'll look like when I see him again, in another twenty years? * * * * * * * Epilogue Bluebell Hill, Kent, England: November 11th 2000 "Hey - come on Phil. Pull yourself together. We got the statement so we can go now. I'd like to see that Geddes bitch stop our research after this. Man - we're going to hit the papers with this one!" Greg said, putting his arms around his friend's shoulders. He certainly admired Phil's courage. He didn't think he could have done the same if he had been in his position. The young woman in Phil's body looked down at herself, wondering why she was dressed so strangely, and who these strange men were that she was with. It all seemed so confusing, as if she were in a dream. She was finding it hard to remember just who she was at the moment, but followed them anyway - they seemed to know her. Something didn't feel quite right to her as she followed them. There was a tightness, a strange constricted feeling, coming from in between her legs. She felt like something was trapped down there and she wanted to release it. No doubt she would feel much better after a warm bath, she thought, as the three friends walked back towards their car. The End