The Wonderful Mrs Wilberforce (Part Three) free porn video

TWENTY-THREE It was Neil's first Christmas since his grandma had died. He and his mother sat around the kitchen table eating a small roast dinner. It was strange; having nowhere to go on Christmas day. To Neil, sitting in the new pink roll neck dress his mother had bought him, there was something unreal about the situation. He brushed his hair out of his face and played with his food. "You really should tie your hair back Neil." It was his mother's habit, still unremarked upon, to call him Neil when she criticised him and Juliette when she praised him. "Mum please, I get enough of that at work." It was true. Mrs Wilberforce turned out to be very pernickety about such things. She insisted he wear a freshly ironed uniform every day, that the seams on his stockings were always straight and that his hair was neatly tied back at all times. He and Maggie had experimented with a few styles, but the most acceptable turned out to be a tight chignon, worn high on the back of his head. It required a plethora of pins and hairspray to achieve, and added an extra ten minutes to Neil's day. "It's nice of Mrs Wilberforce to invite us round for Boxing Day." "Yes mum, you said." "Well you don't seem very enthusiastic." "I just wish you wouldn't keep on about it." "It's the other servants isn't it? Is the cook still giving you a hard time?" "No. Anyway, he was only taking the mickey. It's..." "Yes dear?" Neil felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff. "It's Mrs Wilberforce." "What! What do you mean?" "She's really fussy... smothering... it's like I can't do anything right." "Come on Neil, I know her. She's only doing what she thinks is best." "You don't understand..." "You're having trouble adjusting to being a girl, that's all. You'll get used to it." "It's not that. Even..." Neil stopped himself. If he mentioned Maggie, he just knew it would get back to Mrs Wilberforce eventually. "Forget it" he said. "No come on, Neil. What's the matter?" "I'm just having trouble adjusting. I'm sorry mummy." "That's ok Juliette. Just give it some time, things will work out, I promise." ***** It was two weeks earlier that Maggie had stomped into the laundry room, her petticoats bouncing, and thrown her basket on the ground. "That stuck up cow! I can't believe her." "What's wrong?" "You remember how she spoke to me when the Goldsteins were over? Well she speaks to me about it today and tells me to mind my manners! Says I'm too casual. Casual! Look at it!" She indicated her dress. Neil looked at her sympathetically. "Was she always like this?" "No! But since Clarissa went... since she was ill, she's become intolerable." "I've got to admit, I never expected it to be like this. She's been so good to my mum and me." "It's strange isn't it? Your mum's coming over today isn't she?" "Yeah, she's always here. I've heard how she speaks to you too." "Don't Neil. But you're sweet to notice. I just don't know how longer I can take this." Neil was alarmed. "You're not going to leave are you?" "I don't know. I'm blowing off steam, that's all." They began to fold the laundry together. "Are you helping Clarissa today?" She used the word 'helping' with a certain irony and Neil caught her tone. "What do you mean by that?" "You two are spending a lot of time together." "If she asks for me, I can hardly refuse can I?" Maggie smiled at him and Neil realised he had raised his voice. "I'm only teasing. I'm glad I don't have to deal with her." "She's not that bad. And after what she's been through..." Maggie saw Neil hesitate and stopped what she was doing. She spoke in a low voice. "Do you know what happened?" "Yeah... sort of... we haven't really spoken about it but I know she tried to... I erm... I saw the bandages on her wrists..." "Be sure to keep that quiet, her mum is very funny about it." "I'd guessed." "She won't have it spoken of. I don't see how that helps Clarissa but that's how it is. I wonder what goes through that woman's head sometimes." "Yeah." That poor girl, Neil was thinking. That poor, poor girl. TWENTY-FOUR Boxing day came and with it, the snow. Neil and his mum stood outside the house and tried to get their little old car to start. They were dressed up for Mrs Wilberforce's party; Pauline in her best frock and her old Rowland's overcoat. Neil in his familiar blue dress and the grey wool jacket he'd bought in a charity shop. He wished he'd bought something else now, but at the time he'd just wanted something that wasn't too feminine. He looked down the street. He was becoming very uncomfortable when he was out these days; he kept drawing strange looks from passers by. He shivered and hugged himself. He didn't own a pair of boots and the blue shoes that went with his dress were open topped; despite his thick wool tights he was freezing. Eventually, the engine turned over and, after waiting fifteen minutes for the screens to clear, they were ready to go. The roads were treacherous and they kept a slow but steady pace. The wipers were turned on as another flurry of flakes descended on them. They turned into Manor Road. It was a narrow and winding country lane flanked with trees and hedges. It had been cleared that morning but the snow was falling fast and the visibility was terrible. They came to a sharp right-hander when suddenly they hit something in the road. The front wheels jumped up into the air and the car, unable to turn, careered off the road and into a tree. "Neil, Neil are you alright?" Neil replied groggily, "Yeah I think I'm..." From somewhere Neil became slowly aware of a dull pain in his leg. He looked down and saw he was bleeding from the foot. The sill on his near side had buckled and smashed into his ankle. "Oh my god!" His mother had a look of panic in her face. She had never been able to stand the sight of blood. She flapped about while Neil moaned. "What do we do? What do we do?" "Mum... calm down." "I'll phone Mrs Wilberforce. She'll know what to do." Her house was less than half a mile away and help arrived very promptly. Pauline saw the two figures through the snow and waved. They were Bob, the gardener and Francois, the cook. Both were big men in middle age and were wrapped up in thick wax jackets and boots. Bob carried a case in his right hand. "Oh thank you so much for coming," said Pauline. "No problem miss. Are you both alright?" "Juliette's had a bit of a knock." Bob looked down to where Neil was sitting, shivering in the driver's seat with his legs out of the car, and said "let me have a look at that ankle." Neil winced as he slipped off the shoe. The left foot of his tights was red with blood. "I think we'd best get that looked at once were inside. Can you walk?" "I don't know," said Neil, "not in those shoes, I guess." "They're not very practical. If you don't mind me saying miss, you ought to have given more thought to what you wore today. There are more important things than looking pretty you know." Despite the cold, the blood rushed to Neil's face. Francois, who knew all about Neil, sniggered. "Yes sir," Neil muttered, "you're right." "Let's get you inside then," said Bob and he helped Neil to his feet. He still wasn't wearing his left shoe and he could feel the cold and the damp even through his injury. "How far is it?" "Don't you worry about that miss," said Bob, "I'll have you home in no time." Without another word he bent down and picked Neil up like a child. Neil found himself talking demurely to the big man, his arm around his shoulder, as he carried him through the bitter snow. He tried to sound grateful, but Bob didn't seem particularly interested, so he just lay passively in his arms, holding his shoes, whilst his petticoats billowed in the stiff winter breeze. TWENTY-FIVE "You'll be alright miss," said Bob, "it looks worse than it is." "Thank you." Neil looked down at his freshly bandaged ankle and tried wiggling his foot. He winced. "Nothing's broken, just keep your weight off it for a couple of days." "I'll do that. Really, thank you for everything." Neil sat on the tuffet in front of the great roaring fire and began to feel better. He took the aspirin his mum offered him and gulped them down with a glass of water. Mrs Wilberforce came in looking concerned. "How's our little patient?" "Much better thank you," said Pauline. "I'm so sorry about what happened. I should never have asked you to come out in this weather." "You weren't to know." "We'll try and retrieve your car tomorrow. Bob and Francois will be here to help." "They've been awfully good, haven't they Juliette?" "Yes," said Neil with a little blush. Mrs Wilberforce continued: "Well, if you're feeling up to it Juliette, there are some people who'd like to see you..." Clarissa, Maggie and the other servants came into the room. It was a party for all of them. They were dressed casually, in trousers and big jumpers and were already a little tipsy. Clarissa and Maggie carried presents in their arms. "Juliette," said Clarissa, "this ones for you. Pauline..." "I got you this," said Maggie. "And this one," said Clarissa, leaving the room for a moment, "is from mum." The box was huge and red and tied with a shiny green ribbon. "We've brought some things too," said Pauline and, rather apologetically, handed out the much smaller parcels to the assembled company. Neil opened Maggie's present first; it was a pair of black Ugg boots, with a furry trim. Neil spoke with genuine gratitude. "Thank you Maggie. They're just what I needed." "Lucky guess," said Maggie. "Open mine next," said Clarissa. He ripped off the paper to find a complete make-up kit. Clarissa had put it together herself; it contained foundation, face powder, rouge, eye shadow, mascara and three different colours of lip gloss and nail polish. Neil saw immediately what her intention was. "I know how you like to dress up," she said innocently. Neil looked up at her with his sardonic face. "Thank you Clarissa." "You're welcome," she giggled. Finally came the big one. Neil untied the ribbon and reached inside the box. Mrs Wilberforce had got him a winter coat. It was black cashmere, full-length, with an enormous faux-fur collar and cuffs. It's bigger than me, Neil thought. "I thought you'd need something for the winter," said Mrs Wilberforce. "I do. It's very thoughtful... thank you." The day rolled on. More presents were opened and Maggie broke out the eggnog. Mrs Wilberforce told her good story about Bermuda. The men started cracking jokes and even Neil's mum relaxed. Meanwhile Neil remained in his privileged position by the fire, warming and drying his injured foot. He sat primly on the backless seat, with his bad leg outstretched and his good one tucked in, being careful to keep his skirt smoothed down over his thighs. Clarissa saw his awkwardness early on and, bringing a footstool, went to sit with him. They chatted awhile in the dimming light, whilst the fire flickered and crackled beside them and they were at ease. Neil had never known Clarissa to be so relaxed. Mrs Wilberforce stood up. "Juliette, if you don't mind, the rest of us are going to have a walk around the grounds. They're so beautiful in this weather. I'm sure Clarissa will keep you company." "Ok." "Do you think you could manage a little walk?" said Clarissa. "I don't know..." "Give it a try. I'll help you." Neil took her hand and got up. He tried walking round the room a bit. It was manageable if he took short steps. "I'm dying to see you in your new coat." He sat back down and put his new boots on. Clarissa pulled him up again and then helped him into the coat. With the special girdle he wore, it fit him perfectly. Or almost perfectly. The sleeves seemed a little long; with his arms straight, his hands were lost inside the giant fur cuffs. The collar was so high it reached up over his ears. There was a hat too and with it on all you could see of him was a round pretty face framed by wisps of blond hair, and a pair of boots poking out the bottom. "That'll keep you nice and warm," said his mum. Neil had all his weight on one leg and he wobbled a little as he waited to leave. Clarissa came up and put her arm round him. "It's alright," she said, "let me help you." They inched their way through the house, Clarissa keeping a steadying hand on him at all times, and then stepped out into the snow. The blast of cold air came as a relief; it was very warm inside. The patio was a little slippery and Neil was very glad of Clarissa's arm as he limped his way to the little wall that separated it from the several acres of garden. It was here they sat down. The great lawn was a virgin sheet of white, broken only by the footprints of the others, who were strolling slowly into the distance. The trees were sprinkled with frost, the stonework shone with the ice that hung suspended, somewhere between falling and not falling, over the sides of the stately architecture. The colours of the setting sun were reflected all around them, in a subtle play of colour, shade and relief. Somewhere, far away, was the sound of birdsong. Neil and Clarissa sat on the wall side by side, their arms locked together, watching silently. Neil had put his huge fur cuffs together to keep his hands warm, while Clarissa rubbed the knuckles of her thick winter gloves. Neither of them said a word until the others returned and Clarissa helped him back into the house. TWENTY-SIX The car was a write-off. The impact had buckled the chassis and left it unsafe to drive. Mrs Wilberforce was very apologetic; she paid for it to be towed away and gave them a lift home in her limousine. Neil spent the next few days laid up at home but he was young and his ankle healed quickly. The cold weather continued all week and there was still snow on the ground when Neil took his first trip outside after the accident. It was an uncomfortable experience. His new coat attracted a lot of attention in the poor neighbourhood he lived in and what's more, many people knew who he was. The hostility was mostly confined to unfriendly stares, but occasionally someone would mutter 'faggot' or the like under their breath. He arrived home with relief. "You mustn't listen to them," his mum said, "you should just be yourself." "That's easy for you to say." Getting to work was going to be a problem too. On his first day back, Mrs Wilberforce came over in the limo to pick Neil up. "I understand things will be difficult for a while," she said, "perhaps it would be better if Neil stayed with me, until you get a new car." "I guess." "And Pauline, of course you can come over whenever you like too." Neil realised that his mum would love that idea. The chances of her buying a new car had just diminished significantly. So Neil's things were brought over to the manor. Everything except his boy clothes, which he wouldn't need while he was there. Maggie helped him unpack. "You'll need some more clothes," she told him, "you've only got a few dresses." "I suppose. I haven't been able to face going to the shops." "I'll go with you if you like." "Really? You won't find it boring?" "Are you kidding? It'll be like having a little sister." Neil understood the compliment and blushed with pleasure. The two of them finished unpacking, checked that their hair was neat and their seams straight, then they tied each other's aprons and started work. ***** "I won't do it." "You will." "I won't." "I'm your boss pansy. If I want you to wear make-up, you'll wear make- up." "It's not my job to dress up for you." "Oh yeah? Well let's see... Mum!" Clarissa left the room at a jog. Neil's intuition gave him a start and he followed her as quickly as he could. "Hey hold up a minute!" "Mum!" "Wait! Let's talk about this." Clarissa looked round and grinned at him when she reached the stairs. "Mum!" "So now you're the one running to your mummy," shouted Neil, but Clarissa just laughed as she bounded quickly down the staircase. Neil tried to keep up with her but he was slowed down by his heels on the steps. By the time he found her, she had already been talking to Mrs Wilberforce for several minutes. "So Juliette," she began, "Clarissa tells me you've been refusing to comply with her requests." Neil was a little out of breath. "She wants me to dress up for her." "She asked you to wear a little make-up, that's all." "She's doing it for fun. It's not my job to..." "I'll decide what it's your job to do young lady. And it's hardly unreasonable to ask you to make yourself presentable. If you wish to keep this job you'll do as my daughter requests. Is that understood?" Neil's head dropped. "Yes ma'am." "Excuse me?" Neil took a deep breath and straightened up. "Yes ma'am," he said with a curtsey. "That's better. Now if I can trust you to carry on?" Neil curtseyed again and left the room. As he went he heard her saying, no doubt for him to hear, "I don't know, throwing a gift back in someone's face like that... The ingratitude!" Neil steamed as he walked away. He went up to his room, took out the make-up kit Clarissa had bought him and wondered how to use it. ***** There was a knock at Clarissa's door. "Hello, Clarissa?" No reply. Neil tried again. "Clarissa?" Still nothing. "Clarissa, if you're playing about..." He gave it up and walked away. Then Clarissa opened the door. He turned around. She looked at him for a moment, then burst into hysterics. "Come on, it's alright isn't it?" "Oh my god! You look like a clown!" "Stop it. It's my first time." "I know, I know. You just make me laugh that's all." Neil looked at her a little resentfully. "I never see you dressing up." "That's because I don't. I hate that shit." "You think I like it?" "Come on pansy. You like it a little." She walked up close to him. "If you didn't like it, you wouldn't do it. Job or no job." Neil looked down and couldn't answer. Nonchalantly, Clarissa put her fingers under his chin and raised his head up to face hers. "I think you're going to need lots of practice wearing make-up pansy. Lots of practice." With a glare, Neil gripped her arm and pulled it away. Clarissa laughed a little. "You ask my mother. Imagine if you looked like that when the Rotary Club are here." Neil was speechless again; she was right. He and Maggie had been preparing for that evening all week and Mrs Wilberforce was already fussing and ordering them this way and that. He pouted: "You still don't have to be so mean about it." It was Clarissa's turn to look at him sardonically. Neil shivered. "Suit yourself pansy. But if I don't see some improvement, I might just speak to my mother again." She ignored Neil's glower and turned haughtily away. She was back in her room when Neil heard her say "Oh Juliette, don't you remember? You're supposed to be helping me study." Neil wanted to scream, but he bottled it up and called out politely "Yes ma'am. I'm coming." TWENTY-SEVEN The following day, Neil saw Maggie in the kitchen. She was washing dishes and she turned around as Neil came in. Immediately, he saw that her face was made-up like a stewardess. "Oh Maggie, I'm sorry." "What are you sorry for?" "She's making you get dressed up like that too?" "We're supposed to be looking sharp for the do tomorrow night. What's that got to do with you?" "Well... I had a row with Clarissa. She wanted me to wear that make-up she bought me. And then her mum took her side and suddenly I have to wear it all the time. I thought..." "My God Juliette, don't be so paranoid. And anyway it's fine." "Ok sorry. Are we still going shopping tomorrow?" "Absolutely. I'm supposed to take you to get your hair done." "It's alright, isn't it?" "Your roots are showing." "Yeah, I was thinking of dyeing it brown again." "I'm sure Madam would love that." "Maybe once the party's out of the way then." "Probably wise." Neil sighed. "Thanks for helping me out. I don't know what I'd do without you." "It's no problem. Now if you're not busy..." "Of course!" said Neil, who'd just been standing there watching her work, "I'll dry up shall I?" ***** Neil wore his pink Christmas dress for the shopping trip. He had a lot of fun. Maggie was an excellent guide and was able to discreetly tell him how to act in what, for him, was an alien environment. He had a little money now and Maggie encouraged him to splash out. It was hard to resist, especially with the sales being on. They had their hair done together in the salon Neil had been to before. Donna remembered him and made a special effort to make him feel at home. Despite himself, Neil enjoyed the pampering. They walked through the streets smiling and chatting, but something was making Neil uneasy. He mentioned it to Maggie. "Is it me, or do people keep looking at us?" Maggie giggled. "Why do you think that is?" "What... You mean... Do men really stare that much?" "Uh-huh." "God." He moved a little closer to her. "Don't be intimidated. You must have done the same thing, right?" "Erm..." Neil didn't know what to say. Maggie giggled again. "You're too sweet for words Juliette. I'm so glad we did this." "Me too." They arrived home, primped and perfumed, with their arms laden with shopping bags. Their high spirits were cut short by Mrs Wilberforce. "You're late." "Only fifteen minutes." "Our guests will be here within two hours. I expect you to be more responsible." The two of them spoke together. "Sorry ma'am." "Go upstairs and get changed. I want you to be ready for work by half- past." "Yes ma'am." So Maggie and Juliette made the long climb to the guest bedrooms and changed into their maid's outfits. TWENTY-EIGHT They began to arrive at six o'clock. Middle aged men in dinner jackets, with soft hands and red podgy faces and the women, with coiffured hair and flashy jewellery. It was Neil's job to meet them, ask their names, take their coats, to show them to the lounge where Maggie served the drinks. She'd done his make up for him, while he had made a special effort with his hair. It was doubly annoying then, to find these people treating him as if he wasn't there, not even looking at him or in some cases, continuing their conversation as he tended to their things. A couple of the guests had brought their children with them; boys and girls of about his age who seemed a little dumfounded by his appearance. They smirked a little, but they treated him with an awkward courtesy and Neil liked them. He was in the cloakroom, putting the last of the tickets on the bags and coats when Maggie popped her head round the door. "That's the last of them. Better go and put the starters out." The grand table in the dining room was laid out for more than thirty people and they easily fitted. It was an appreciable task to lay out all the food; the cold cuts, the bread, the salad and so on. It was a long trip back and forth from the kitchen and Neil found that his feet were beginning to ache in his heels. He sighed; the evening was only an hour old. When he was done, he put on his best smile, walked into the lounge and, ringing a little silver bell announced: "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served." Neil stood to one side, his hands in his lap, his eyes downward as the guests trundled past, still talking. Mrs Wilberforce was last and gave Neil an encouraging smile as she passed him. He arrived in the dining room to find everyone seated and Maggie waiting for him. They went round with the wine. There was no talking to the guests; if they didn't want a drink, they simply put their hand over the glass. After that, as they had practiced the previous week, Maggie and Neil were to stand in opposite corners of the room and wait on the table. It wasn't always obvious what to do; from time to time Maggie would catch Neil's eye and indicate where a drink needed refilling or a plate taken away. It was considered bad form to have to ask for something. The one man who did, snapping his fingers to attract Neil's attention, attracted embarrassed glances from the diners around him. In the midst of all this was Clarissa, dressed quite beautifully in a long dress and cardigan. Her mum had insisted she dress up and Neil had sniggered secretly to himself as she whined and moaned about it. She was seated with the other teenagers, who formed their own little sub- group at the far end of the table. Clarissa was holding court there and Neil was pleased to see her enjoy herself. He gazed across the long, long table a little wistfully and hoped that she had made some new friends. Suddenly, he realised Maggie was glaring at him; with her eyes she indicated one of the guests and Neil went back to work. ***** After dessert, the party broke up into groups. Maggie and Neil were rushed off their feet attending to the disparate crowd who, by now, were spread across four or five rooms. They walked round with champagne glasses balanced on silver trays. Neil had been practicing this all week and was now almost as steady as Maggie. Again, the rule was not to interact and not to loiter and Neil became more and more bored. He wished he could talk to Maggie but the party was too spread out; they could only snatch a few quick words in the kitchen now and then. On one such trip, Neil came across a particularly fat man who asked him where the bathroom was. Neil told him then, as he turned his back, the man reached over and pinched Neil on the ass. He jumped up, spilling the glasses everywhere but, when he turned round, the man had gone. Maggie was there straight away. "What happened?" "This guy, he pinched my ass." "I know the one you mean. I'm sorry, I should have warned you." Neil looked at her, astonished. He was expecting more outrage. "You mean this happens all the time?" "No. It's just one or two. But there's no point making a fuss. It won't hurt him and it'll embarrass Mrs Wilberforce." Neil felt a little humiliated. He suddenly realised how ridiculous he must look in his outfit. "Don't brood on it," said Maggie. "I'll clear up here. You take my tray and get back out there. Best thing you can do." Neil swallowed and put his smile back on. God my feet ache, he thought. He saw the ass-pincher soon enough, but the man just ignored him. As he walked from room to room, all but unseen by everyone, he saw the wisdom of what Maggie had said; it would be awful to raise a fuss. He'd have to just grin and bear it. "Hey Juliette!" It was Clarissa. "Good evening ma'am." "Don't ma'am me. I need to talk to you." They left the room. "What is it?" said Neil, still holding his tray. "I need you to steal some booze for me." Neil laughed. "There's booze everywhere." "I know, and mum's watching me like a hawk. She doesn't want me drinking. You know why." "Where is she now?" "The loo. Just pinch a bottle of wine and leave it in the closet by the west staircase. That's all you have to do." "Ok, no problem." "That's my girl." Neil decided to take her two. It was no problem and it made him feel better. He hoped she was having a good time. Only Maggie noticed he'd been gone and she raised her eyebrows when he told her where. "She deserves a bit of fun," said Neil defensively. "You'd better hope she doesn't get caught." "She won't." Neil said this with more certainty than was warranted and Maggie caught his eye and smiled. "What?" he said. "Nothing." ***** Eventually the last guests went home and Maggie and Neil went upstairs, let their hair down, lay back and plunged their aching feet into hot water. They sat there chatting a while before Mrs Wilberforce came in. "I just wanted to thank you for all you did tonight. The do was a big success." "That's alright ma'am." "I'll leave you to it. There's just one thing - Clarissa's having some friends stay over tonight. They might need a hand with things tomorrow morning." "I'll handle it." "Thank you Maggie. And Juliette - Well done, you did really well tonight." "Thank you ma'am." "Goodnight." TWENTY-NINE Clarissa's friends were there in the morning. Neil heard them go past his door as he got up. He grumbled to himself; one of the problems with staying at the manor was that it was necessary to maintain the illusion of girlhood at all times. He sighed and began to pull on his special girdle. He dressed in jeans and a pink roll-neck sweater. Then he wandered through the house to the servant's kitchen for breakfast. It was Sunday and no-one else was about, but he took the back way to avoid Clarissa and her friends. He arrived in the poky old room to find his mother sitting there waiting for him. "Morning Juliette." "Hi mum, you're early." "Mrs Hopkins gave me a lift. You remember her?" "One of the hospice ladies right?" "Right. Her son stayed here last night, so she was coming anyway." "I see." "So come on then, tell me about the ball. What was it like?" "Hard work." Neil poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down. "Come on Neil. Tell me properly: Who was there? What were they doing?" Reluctantly, Neil began to talk about it. He knew what his mother was driving at and he tried to make his account as glamorised and gossipy as he could. A lot of what he said, he just made up. "Oh Juliette, it sounds so exciting!" "It really wasn't mummy. It was just another day at work..." Neil stopped what he was saying as Joe Hopkins had just walked into the room. He seemed a little taken aback. "Er hi... I'm looking for Maggie." "Sorry" said Neil, "I haven't seen her." "Ok... erm hello Mrs Taylor." "Hello Joe." Joe looked from Pauline to Neil and back again, looking quite confused the whole time, then he made his excuses and left. "He recognised me didn't he?" "I wish you wouldn't worry so much about that Neil. There's nothing wrong with how you live." "I know, I just... what if I want to go back?" "Then you go back. But you mustn't be ashamed. Come on, let's go and talk to him." "No!" "Juliette." "No." Neil's voice dropped. "Not now anyway." His mum gave him a look. "I'm having breakfast!" "Sorry dear. But you'll have to confront this sooner or later." ***** The following Wednesday, Neil was in the middle of his day's chores when Clarissa came to see him. "Juliette?" "Yes ma'am." "Just to let you know, I'm having some friends over tomorrow. I'll need you on serving duty that evening." Her tone was formal and her face gave nothing away. Neil didn't like the sound of it. "I'm off in the evenings, I need more notice than that." "Come on pansy, what else will you be doing? You never go out and I'm sure you could use the money." "I'm not going to wait hand and foot on you and your friends." "You're the maid, Juliette. That's what you're employed to do." "Not in the evenings I'm not." "Fine, I'll invite them round in the afternoon. Then you'll have to do it." "They won't come. They've got college and stuff. They don't just swan about their houses like you do." Clarissa looked both shocked and hurt and Neil felt the guilt rise in his stomach. "I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Neil looked at her desperately, but her face grew hard and distant. "I just meant they... you know because..." Clarissa raised her eyebrows. "Ok... I'll work tomorrow evening." "Good Juliette, thank you." Her voice was like her mother's, Neil was thinking. He curtseyed and Clarissa broke into a smile. She walked up close to him and whispered "I was only teasing pansy. Honest to God I was." She kissed him on the cheek then, with a wink, she turned and left him to his housework. THIRTY The evening came and Clarissa made Neil answer the door. He had been furious. It was one thing to wait hand and foot on the Mrs Wilberforce's of this world, but these were people of his own age. He'd gone to school with some of them. Joe Hopkins lived on his estate! But Clarissa was adamant and she had the trump card of her mother to call on. He wondered why he put up with her nonsense, but then he remembered: He saw how nervous she got as the time approached, how she made such a fuss that everything was just right, how desperate she was to impress her new friends and Neil's heart just melted. He decided then to make sure the evening went as she wanted; she deserved some luck. It was with a certain pride then, that he did his hair and make-up, put on a touch of perfume and a clean, crisp white apron and prepared for the evening's work. "Oh Juliette," said Clarissa with a smile, "you look wonderful." "Thanks." "You've been practising with the make-up haven't you." Neil looked away bashfully. "I really appreciate this." The first guest to arrive was a short girl with mousey hair called Jenny. She remembered Neil from the party and exchanged some awkward pleasantries with him. Neil wondered how much she knew about him and whether he should care. Next came an extremely geeky male called Chris. He was tall and spotty with thick glasses and came off as rude. Neil didn't think it was intentional. Finally, Joe Hopkins arrived. He took one look at Neil and greeted him by name. It was a difficult moment. Eventually, Neil looked at him and said softly: "My name's Juliette now." "Ok." "I'll show you through to the lounge." Clarissa was there, with her friends, playing the bedroom DJ. Neil introduced Joe formally, as he was meant to, and offered them drinks. Clarissa took charge. "What are you having? Jenny?" Neil took their orders and left the room with a curtsey. He could hear someone's incredulous voice as he walked away, without being able to make out the words. It doesn't matter, he told himself. He returned with four mugs on a tray. The conversation in the room stopped abruptly as he entered and he had to steel himself against his own self- consciousness. "Here you are sir," he said, "hot chocolate." "Thank you." "Coffee ma'am." He went round the room before turning to address Clarissa. "Will that be all ma'am?" "Yes, thank you Juliette. Stay within earshot though." "Very good ma'am." He made another curtsey and left for the second time. This time however, he heard Joe distinctly mention his name. It was an unsettling thought. He sat in the next room, legs crossed at the table, trying to read a TV guide, but he couldn't concentrate. He had to keep an ear out for Clarissa, which didn't help him, as he tried not to wonder what they were saying about him. Were they laughing? It was a long hour. Eventually, he heard the bell and took his cue to re-enter the lounge. They were all sitting on the floor playing cards. Clarissa spoke for them. "Juliette, would you put the pizza on please? And clear the cups away." "Of course ma'am." He went round the room, visiting the various tables. He had a sinking feeling that the boys were looking up his skirt. "The pizza will be twenty minutes ma'am." "That's fine," said Clarissa, "thank you Juliette." He turned to leave, but Joe piped up: "Don't forget to curtsey!" Neil reddened as he turned away, with the crowd sniggering behind him, but he noticed Clarissa's stern glare in Joe's direction. Rise above it, he told himself, rise above it. The time he spent in the kitchen seemed like an age. The house was empty tonight; Maggie had gone home and Mrs Wilberforce was having dinner with friends. The ticking clock sounded like a drum. He turned on the radio just to get away from it. The first news item was a report on cyber-bullying and he turned it over. How did he end up as a maid anyway? Maybe they deserved to laugh at him... The oven went bing and Neil snapped out of his reverie. He removed the pizzas, sliced them, placed them on plates with the salad and the condiments, and skilfully arranged them in his arms so he could carry them all at once. His heels clicked on the wooden floor as he made his way to the lounge and he took a deep breath. "Dinner ma'am." "Very good Juliette. If you would." "Do you have any napkins?" asked Chris. "Yes sir. I'll get them in a moment." "So Neil," asked Joe, biting into his first slice, "how's the new job?" "Fine thank you." Neil looked at him primly and walked out. When he returned with the napkins, Joe started again. "I like your dress Neil. Did you buy it yourself?" Neil let out a sigh of annoyance. "What? I'm only asking." "My name's Juliette now. I told you." "Is it really though? Or are you just pretending?" "We call him Juliette in this house," said Clarissa, but Joe started laughing. "I mean her... we call her Juliette." Neil turned and almost ran out the room, Joe's laughter in his wake. He had gone a long way before he heard Clarissa's voice behind him. "Juliette! Juliette!" "What?" "Come back. We'll sort this out." "Forget it." "No. Joe's out of order. He can apologise or leave." Neil looked at her through smudged mascara. "Come on," she said, and held out her hand. He followed her back into the lounge. To Neil's surprise, Clarissa stood beside him and put her arm round his waist. "Now listen," she announced, in her mother's voice, "Juliette is a good friend and I won't have you mocking her. I want you all to apologise, especially you Joe." Joe's smile was one of unconcealed irony. "I'm sorry... Neil." "Right. Get out!" "What?" "Get the hell out, now!" "Come on!" "You want a sock in the mouth?" Clarissa advanced on him and Neil remembered how she'd looked when she was the school bully. Joe backed down, muttering. "Fine, I don't want to stay anyway... bunch of goddam freaks...." The door slammed, and he was gone. "I didn't like him anyway," said Jenny. "Yeah," said Chris, "who still listens to Nickelback?" "You want to join us Juliette?" said Jenny, "we're watching a movie." Neil looked to Clarissa. "It's the fourth Twilight film," she told him. "You seen them?" Neil hadn't seen a single one. "Yeah, I've seen them." "Cool. I'll help you clear up, then we'll watch it." "Ok." They cleared the plates and carried them to the kitchen. Neil led the way. Clarissa was strangely quiet so he looked round and caught her staring at him in a funny way. He liked it and began to walk like Maggie did sometimes, putting one foot in front of the next, so that his ass wiggled back and forth. He glanced backward again; she was definitely looking now. He felt a giddy tingling course through his skin and suddenly he knew what was coming. He licked his lips and tried to stop the plates from clattering. In a dream, he walked into the kitchen and put them down on the table. He'd barely turned round when Clarissa put her arms round his waist and kissed him. Neil put his arms on her shoulders and melted into the embrace. He closed his eyes and raised one leg off the ground. In the minor eternity that followed, his knees went weak and he came round to find himself with his legs bent, looking upward into the strong, kindly face of his beloved. It was his first kiss. THIRTY-ONE It was Friday night and Maggie dropped Neil off on her way home. It had been a cold sunny winter's day and the evening air was bitter and still. But Neil was warm. He felt snug and happy in his girdle, his thick winter tights, his high-waisted trousers, his slip, his woolly jumper, his furry hat, boots and long cashmere coat. He was off work until Monday and he'd let his hair down, literally. It fell in an uncombed mess over the big collar of his coat, where a single hairclip lay stuck, neglected in the rush to unwind. Neil smiled. His make-up was worn and smudged and he hadn't even bothered to wash it off. He was tired, but not weary. He had no plans; nowhere to go tonight but for the first time in months, he wished that he had. It was a beginning. His mum opened the door of the tatty wooden porch and immediately saw the change in him. "Hello Juliette," she said, "what's got into you?" "Oh I don't know mummy," he replied, undoing his coat "I'm just happy." She beamed at him. "That Mrs Wilberforce is wonderful," she said, "just wonderful!" Neil laughed a little and replied "yes mum, she is." ***** Clarissa insisted that they kept their relationship secret. It was easy enough to sneak around the big house while Neil worked and Clarissa liked to surprise him. She would creep up behind him when he was folding linen or the like and put her hands over his eyes, or hug him round the waist and nuzzle his neck. And Neil would giggle and say "stop it," or "don't," whilst Clarissa ran her hand up his leg or tried to unbutton his dress. Sometimes Neil would see her coming and scamper away in his heels, laughing as Clarissa pretended to chase him. The thrill was that it was forbidden and the two of them spent many an enjoyable evening flashing secret looks to each other over the dinner table while their parents chatted away, oblivious. Neil was required to help Clarissa with her studies more and more, and he did, but it was really an excuse to spend time together privately. Neil began to take more pride in his appearance and the long morning ritual of dressing and grooming himself ceased to be a chore. He thought about going into town and getting his hair done, just for her. Without saying why, he mentioned this to Maggie one afternoon. "Do you want to come?" "I'm busy. But don't let that stop you." "Maybe another time." "I mean it. You don't need me to hold your hand. If you want to do it, do it." Neil watched her from the corner of his eye. "It's no big deal. I just thought it'd be fun." Maggie smiled. "How's Clarissa." "Alright." "You two are spending a lot of time together." "I guess. She's got a lot of studying to do." "Yeah, she spends a lot of time on that." "What does that mean?" "Oh Juliette, come on." "What?" "Do you think no-one's noticed?" "Noticed what?" Neil caught Maggie's eye and gave up straight away. "Is it that obvious?" "You need to be more careful." "Mrs Wilberforce..." "I don't think she knows, she's out all day, but if you carry on like this..." "Clarissa really doesn't want her to find out." "Talk to her." "I will." Neil hesitated a little. "But... but Clarissa's funny. Some things she just won't... She gets angry if I try to talk about them." "She's a bit messed up, you know that. Give her time." "Maggie..." they looked across the kitchen at each other. "Thanks." She smiled at him. "No problem." ***** Clarissa was playing computer games when Neil came in. The light was off and her room was dark in the cloudy winter evening. She stopped what she was doing immediately and got up to say hello. "Aren't you meant to be studying?" said Neil archly. "Aren't you meant to be helping me?" They came together with a kiss. "Well I'm here now." "You finished work?" "Uh-huh. I was talking to Maggie..." Neil paused. He wasn't sure how she'd react. "She knows about us. Apparently, most of the servants know about it." "What?" "Your mum doesn't know," Neil said quickly, "they're all sworn to secrecy, but..." "But?" "We're maybe gonna have to be more discreet." "Yeah. Yeah we are." Clarissa sighed. She suddenly seemed to have a weight on her shoulders. To Neil, her bearing seemed somehow familiar. "I'm sorry." "It's not your fault. Never mind. We'll just have to be careful, that's all." "But... I mean... are you sure your mother will freak? There's nothing..." "Of course she'll freak!" "Why?" "You don't know her ok? She can't find out." "But if you just explained to me..." "Stop it pansy, you're getting on my nerves." She still called him pansy from time to time, but this one really hurt him. "Fine!" said Neil "Enjoy your games!" and he stormed out of the room. THIRTY-TWO Neil didn't see her the following day and he didn't want to. He seethed and muttered to himself as he went about his duties. He was careless and clumsy and one or two things got broken. The manor had no visitors so he didn't bother with his appearance; he wore no make-up and his hair was down and barely combed. Mrs Wilberforce saw him and walked away tutting. He cursed her silently; it was easy to blame her for what had happened. If only Maggie was there! But she had the day off and Neil was left alone with his thoughts. It was late afternoon when Mrs Wilberforce appeared and asked him a question. "Have you seen Clarissa?" "No, why?" She paused to highlight his rudeness. "She's been out all day. I haven't the faintest idea where she is." Despite himself, Neil was worried. "Did she say where she was going?" "No. Just "for a walk." That was five hours ago." Neil gulped. "Was she upset?" She looked at him hard for a moment. "Neil, if there's something you're not telling me..." He bristled. Why was he only Neil when things went wrong? "No," he said, "it's just..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I do know what happened. What she did..." He was shocked by how uncomfortable Mrs Wilberforce became. Suddenly she couldn't meet his eye. "Well, yes..." she said, "obviously it's a concern..." Neil's eyes widened. "Honestly, I'm as worried about her as you." "That's sweet of you... I... I should really try to find her now..." She wandered off, embarrassed and distracted, leaving Neil standing alone, amazed, in the dining room. What was wrong with her? Didn't she care? He forgot about his hurt feelings there and then and decided he had to find Clarissa. Putting down his duster and polish, he went to sit down and think; where would she be? ***** As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long to find her. No more than fifteen minutes after her mother went out looking, there was a knock at the back door. "Juliette," came the quiet voice from the garden, "Juliette..." Neil opened it to find a shivering and bedraggled Clarissa waiting for him. "My God," he said, "you're soaked through." She smiled at him and waddled in out of the rain. "Here," said Neil, "let me get you a blanket." When he came back, Neil found her with her coat off, huddled on a chair, with her hands squeezed between her legs. "Thanks pansy," she said, as Neil draped the blanket over her shoulders. She met his eye. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry how I spoke to you." "It's alright," smiled Neil, "it's alright." "I didn't mean to... it's just..." The tears welled up in her eyes and she began to weep openly. Neil put his arm round her as she sobbed into her clenched fists. "It's alright," he kept saying, "it's alright." "It's my mum..." she began, "she won't... she doesn't understand me. She wants me to be... she tries to control everything I do... I don't know..." "It's ok," said Neil, "you don't have to." Clarissa cried some more and Neil came round to look her in the face. "My God," he said, "what happened to your hands?" Clarissa giggled a bit. It was mirthless and a little hysteric. "I got mad and started punching things," she said, eyes averted. "Why?" She shrugged. "So it would stop. You can't beat a tree can you." She did the giggle again. "I'm going to clean you up," said Neil. "Stay there." "Yes pansy." He returned with a first aid kit from the servants quarters. With no table nearby, he put the thing on the floor and knelt down to look inside. While Clarissa sat passively, with her arms hanging loosely between her spread thighs, he took out some sterilising solution and cotton wool and set to work. Still kneeling, he cleaned her wounds tenderly, looking upward at regular intervals to see that she wasn't wincing too much. Then he bandaged over the scars, carefully, methodically, talking to her all the while. She looked straight at him the whole time, through tear-stained eyes, and listened. "Juliette," she said, "there's something else." She pulled up her sleeve so Neil could see where the bandage was ripped and a little blood was trickling out from underneath. "I didn't..." she said quickly, "I must have opened it when I was punching that tree." "It's ok," said Neil and he began to sterilize that wound as well. As he worked, it began to dawn on him how intimate a moment this was, how she had completely drawn him into her trust. No-one, except her mother and a couple of doctors, had ever seen this scar before and he knew that he could never tell anyone else about it. As Clarissa sat over him, gently stroking his hair with her free hand, Neil realised that things would never be the same again. (To be continued...)