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Jayne Jayne Felicity Spencer I looked at the clock. It was ten past six. "She won't be here for at least another four hours. I'll just give it another few minutes," I said to no one in particular. Picking up the evening newspaper, I carried on reading the article that I had started. I glanced at the clock after I had finished the report. "Well, John, time to start." I have this habit of talking to myself! I got up and walked into the bedroom and removed my clothes. I stared into the mirror, looking back at me was a clean-shaven face. A face that has been described as 'fine featured', whatever that means? All I know is that this face had gotten me in trouble all my life. At school I was the wimpy one, the one boys loved to beat up and girls make fun of. School was not a happy time for me. I only just scraped through my exams and, as such, only managed to get a mundane office job. Not for me the high-flying executive life. Carol was the high-flying one, not me. Why she married me, I will never know. We met at an office function, she worked for one of our clients and, as it was my job to act as a host, I started talking to her. It seemed that we had similar tastes and arranged to meet. Things went on from there and a year later we were married. That was three years ago. As far as I know we have a happy marriage. The only gripe that she has is that people often comment that I am better looking than she is, even when she has her full war paint on. When that happens she just laughs, but I know that it hurts her inside. You see. This damn face always getting me in trouble. "Come on, get on with it." I shake myself out of my lethargy. I walk over to my wardrobe and remove a suitcase. Putting this on the bed, I open the catches after unlocking them and lift the lid. I stare at the contents for a few moments and then take out a black bra. This simple act is the first step of a transformation. After putting on the bra I rummage through the case for the knickers, also black. I check the tights for ladders and, satisfied, put them on. Taken from their box, the silicon breast forms are carefully, lovingly even, inserted into the bra cups. A white blouse, blue knee length A-line skirt and flat-heeled shoes complete the first stage. I take the long black wig from its package and slip it on. Back to the mirror and with lipstick, eye shadow and mascara Jayne is born. My face, which gets me in trouble, now comes to my rescue. It is a pretty face, not beautiful, but definitely pretty. Jayne has come to life and will spend the next three or more hours of blissful existence just watching television. When the time comes, I reluctantly reverse the process. The wig goes back into its package, the clothes back into the case (I must remember to wash them) and the breast forms placed in their box. The lid is closed and locked and the suitcase returned to its resting place. The sparse makeup is removed and I go to bed. 'Beep'. I hit the alarm clock and tried to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. I noticed that she didn't get back at all last night; an occurrence that was getting more common. Oh well, time to get ready for work. I abluted (well I suppose it is a word!), and got dressed. Plain old business suit I'm afraid. Breakfast was just a cup of coffee and then I drove into work. Work -You won't have heard of the firm I work for because I've changed their name deliberately. Schyster, Schyster, Bumble and Schyster are a small legal firm. There are five of us. Mr Schyster and Mr Harvey-Smith are the legal eagles; Karen and Jan are their secretaries - and me. I'm the office manager. Great title, it just means I order the stationary and make the coffee. Well, one or two other things as well, but you get the picture, I'm sure! Karen and Jan are just plain nice! Jan is married and has two kids whilst Karen is single. I don't think there is a boyfriend; at least she never talks about going out. Being a small office we three get on like a house on fire. We talk about everything and share everything (at least everything we can share). Even at thirty-two and with kids, Jan is really good looking. Oh! I see I've forgotten something. I'm twenty-two, Carol is twenty- eight and Karen is twenty. Now where was I? Oh yes. The day was like any other, I made the coffee, the legal eagles spent most of the day out of the office and the girls and I talked about the previous evening and what we were going to do that evening and weekend. "We're taking the kids to their grandparents this weekend," Jan offered. "Which ones?" "Dave's side," came the reply. "What are you doing, John?" "I don't know, I'll have to wait till Carol gets back tonight," was all I could offer. "Karen?" Jan was always the curious one. "Nothing much." "Not seeing anyone?" I could be just as curious. Jan and I didn't like to think that Karen was not enjoying life. "Not at the moment. There doesn't seem to be anyone nice enough these days," Karen replied with a sad edge to her voice. "Look, why don't you come round on tomorrow afternoon and we'll watch cricket." "Okay John, but how about football instead?" It was a standing joke between us. I liked cricket and she preferred football - strange girl! The drive home was like any other Friday evening - stop-go, stop-go. Traffic had seemed to have become worse of late. Maybe the building of the new flyover or the tram link was to blame, I don't know. When I eventually got home, I noticed that Carol's car wasn't there. 'Strange,' I thought, 'she should be home by now?' After letting myself in I went straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on. I was dying for a coffee. Back in the living room something struck me. Something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it immediately. I went upstairs to change out of my work clothes. Something was odd in the bedroom. Just what it was I couldn't tell. It was just out of reach. Once in "civvies" I went back to the kitchen to make that coffee. Taking the drink into the living room I noticed the letter. Why did I not see it before? I picked it up and opened the envelope. 'Dear John,' it started. 'I would like to thank you for the past three years. You are a very nice person, but I've realised that I just don't love you. Maybe I never loved you, I don't know. I just know that I don't love you now. In answer to your question, yes, I have found someone else, someone my own age. Someone who doesn't compete with my looks. I won't contest a divorce and you can cite my adultery as grounds. You can keep the house and whatever is in it. I don't want anything that will remind me of my time here. I'm sorry if I've hurt you, but this is the only way. My solicitor will be in touch. Carol' "Damn face," I shouted through my tears. How could she do this? I thought we were happy. Why did she leave? I slumped into a chair and just cried and cried. I awoke with a start. "Carol?" There would be no answer. She wasn't there. She would never be there again. How could I go on? I cried myself back to sleep. Sunlight crept into the room. I wanted to shut it out. There was no sun in my life anymore. There was no life anymore. The morning dragged. I just didn't care. Time had no meaning, life had no meaning. I went into the kitchen and hunted down the painkillers. I wondered if I had enough to end it all. I just didn't want to live without Carol. The words swam across my mind. 'doesn't compete with my looks'. Had she found out about Jayne? I went upstairs and put the case on the bed. I sprung the lid. Jayne 'looked' out at me. I said a silent farewell to her and went back downstairs. Back in the kitchen I wondered again if there were enough tablets. I poured some water into a glass and, crying, picked up the first one. The doorbell rang. I ignored it and picked up the second one. It rang again. Again I ignored it and picked up the third one. This time it rang continuously. I tried to ignore the ringing, but it went on and on. I put the glass down and went to the door. It was Karen. "Oh my God! John, what's the matter? You look awful. What's wrong?" "Go away, Karen. Just go away!" Tears were flowing down my face. She pushed her way in and I just followed. Passing the kitchen, she noticed the glass and the tablets, added two and two together and came straight out with it. "Just what do you think you are doing?" Karen spat out the question "Carol's gone. Just go away, Karen!" "Like hell I will! I won't let you do anything silly. We've got a cricket match to watch." Karen went into the kitchen and rounded up all the tablets. "How many have you had?" she sounded frightened. "Two, maybe three. No more than three," I answered still sobbing. "Thank God for that. Have you had anything to eat yet?" Concern filled her voice. "No, not yet." "Well you better had. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. What have you got to eat?" she called over her shoulder. Twenty minutes later we were both biting into a bacon sandwich. "Want to tell me about it?" Karen probed carefully. "Carol's gone. She's taken what she wants and I suppose she has moved in with her new boyfriend. She says she can't compete with..." I broke down again. Karen moved closer and let me cry all over her jumper. She didn't say a word, just sat there and held me whilst I sobbed my heart out. Finally she spoke. "You said 'she couldn't compete with...'. Whom did she mean when she said 'compete with'?" she left the sentence unfinished. "What do you mean?" I asked. "John, I had to use your toilet, your bedroom door was open. I'm sorry, but I saw the case on the bed." I started to say something, I had forgotten the open case and burst into tears again. "Has she got a name, John?" Karen softly asked. I just carried on crying. That's all I seem to do lately. "John? I'm going to tell you something and I don't want you to interrupt or tell anyone else. Do you understand?" I managed to nod my head. "Can you stop crying and listen for a while?" Karen's voice took on a sad quality. I nodded my head again and tried to stifle my sobs. "I used to have a brother. He was two years older than me, but we were close. He was a quiet, shy kid. Then one day I found a note in my room when I got home. It didn't contain much, but it was the last thing he ever wrote." Tears had started to run down Karen's face. "It seems that he liked wearing female clothes, sometimes wearing mine. A group of thugs found out somehow, he didn't say how or who those animals were. But it seems that they did something to him, again he only hinted at it. We found him later that night. He had hung himself. If I knew who those bastards were, I'd..." she paused, choked back a sob and continued. "So, you see I won't think you strange or odd. And John, I sure as hell don't want to see you go the same way. There's too much to live for." "I don't think Carol knew," I said softly. "Sorry, Karen, I didn't know." "Very few people know. But... I suppose you can guess why I don't date. The thought that I could be going out with one of the group that did that to..." again she paused and I stepped in. "And I kept joking with you about your lack of men friends. Can you ever forgive me?" "Only if you promise not to kill yourself. I lost my brother; I don't want to lose you. You are the only man that I don't feel any revulsion towards." That surprised me, but I promised not to kill myself. Karen told me to take a shower and change into clean clothes, saying that I looked like a tramp. I did too. I had slept on the couch wearing my clothes and they were all creased and careworn. I went upstairs and showered. It was whilst I was putting on a clean T- shirt that I realised that there was a new bond between us. We both knew each other's secrets, well one at least. The smell of another bacon sandwich brought me out of my thoughts and lured me downstairs. Karen smiled whilst munching her sandwich. "I'd like to meet her, not now, but when you're ready." "Thanks, Karen. You will and her name is Jayne, by the way." "That's a nice name. A nice name for what I think is probably a nice woman, if she's anything like you, she'll be nice." "I'm flattered, young lady," I said whilst doing a curtsey. Karen just laughed. "So what channel is the cricket on?" She reminded me and I went to the television and switched it on. "I'm going to stay the night. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that I don't trust you." Karen's statement surprised me, but I understood it. "Thanks, Karen, but I won't do anything silly. Not now. You've convinced me that her leaving is not the end of the world I thought it was." I responded. I was not sure whether I meant that last comment, not yet. I obviously missed Carol, but Karen's concern for my welfare did surprise me. I woke up next morning and moved my arm to where Carol should have been. Realising that she wasn't there started me crying again. 'Come on, John. You've got to stop this,' I chided myself. Getting up and getting dressed I slipped quietly downstairs and started to make coffee. Karen was asleep on the couch. Poor girl, she should have gone home or even slept in the guest bed, but I guess she wanted to be sure that I wouldn't do anything. The smell of the coffee woke her up. "Morning, Karen. Coffee?" "Yes please? What's for breakfast?" came the sleepy reply. "I don't usually do breakfast, but there's some cereal somewhere or I could do toast?" "Yuk! Mind if I freshen up?" "No. Top of the stairs, you know the way." Karen eased herself off the couch and stiffly walked towards the stairs. "You look done in. Why don't you run a bath and I'll bring the coffee up if you want?" "Thanks. That would be nice. No sugar, don't forget." "Look, I make it every day, so I ought to remember." She limped up the stairs smiling. I heard the water filling the bath and went back to making the coffee. "Must be something I can give her for breakfast," I said. Looking through the cupboards I found a melon. Cutting it brought to mind the fact that although I didn't like it, Carol did. "Shit! Will everything remind me of She?" I shouted out. A noise reminded me of Karen. I sliced the melon, put it on a plate and then placed that and the cup of coffee on a tray and took them up to the bathroom. I gently tapped on the door. "Karen, where do you want your coffee?" "In here, please. It's okay, you can come in." Karen was lying flat out with the steaming water high up the bath and the foam piled even higher. "What was that shout?" Karen asked. "Nothing." "Come on. If you don't tell me I'll just keep on till you do," Karen shot back. "I just expressed a hope that everything I do wouldn't remind me of her," I sadly replied. "At first, but the memories will fade and who knows, you may find someone else one day. How old are you? Thirty, thirty-five?" Karen smiled as she spoke. "I'm twenty-two, as well you know." I was going to get Karen for that. "Do you like melon?" I asked. "Well, it's better than cereal," she replied. I put the tray on a stool near to the bath then fetched her a bath towel, which I left on the heated towel rail. "Give me a shout if you need help," I said as I left the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I went downstairs and pulled the Yellow Pages off the shelf. Opening the directory to the restaurant page, I picked up the telephone and started dialling numbers. On the third restaurant I managed to book a table. Returning the directory to its slot, I went and re-acquired my coffee. The sound of humming preceded Karen's entry into the kitchen. "John, I'm going to have to pop home and get a change of clothes. You sure I can trust you?" she asked. "Of course you can. Look, bring something smart as I've booked a table." Karen looked pained. I quickly continued, "It's my way of saying thank you. No strings attached, just thanks." "Sorry, John, it's not you; I don't often go to restaurants. I mentioned earlier that I didn't date men and I don't have many reasons to visit restaurants." Karen looked down at her feet as she said it. "Look, you spent a night on my couch. Probably got a stiff back, little or no sleep, but more importantly, you probably saved my life. It's the least I can do. It's not a posh restaurant, remember I don't have that much spare cash and I probably will need to save a lot more to divorce Carol." As I said this, Karen slowly nodded her head. "Besides that, I'd just like to." "Okay John, especially as Jan and I may have to give you food parcels in future," she joked. We both laughed at this. Karen had a nice laugh. We didn't see much of it at work. "Table's booked for seven and don't worry, I won't tell anyone." She smiled as I said this. She left about ten minutes later saying that she would be back by half six. After she had left, I pondered about what she had said. I known her, well both her and Jan, about four... four and a half years and, although we had all got close, as work colleagues do, I had no idea that she'd had a brother. "Well I suppose I had better have a shower and get ready," I said to an empty house. I have to wear a suit for work, so I decided to dress casual and was downstairs by six fifteen. Ten minutes later the doorbell rang. I opened the door to admit Karen. I've noticed that I've been remiss here in that I have not described her. Well, where shall I begin? She is five foot five inches tall with long auburn hair with an attractive face. She takes a thirty-six B bra, size twelve (usually) clothes and her shoe size is five and a half. How do I know? Our little office chats. Me, well I'm five foot seven and usually fit into medium sized clothes. Karen is always well dressed at work (white blouse and suit with the skirt about two inches above the knee), but now? She was wearing a short blue velvet dress with a sweetheart neck. Over this, she wore a thin blue coat. The knee-length boots had what I guessed to be a two- inch heel. And she looked stunning. "Bloody hell, Karen. You make me look shabby!" "Thank you, kind sir. I do try to look my best sometimes," Karen replied with mock seriousness. I double locked the front door and escorted Karen to my car. I opened the passenger door and let her get in, closing it after her. The drive to the restaurant was short and we didn't talk. Once there, I did the gallant male routine, opening doors for her and walking just slightly behind. It was a small restaurant and we had a candle lit table for two towards the back where it was cosy. Neither of us had a starter and, over the main course, Jayne came up. "John, you don't have to answer, but I would like to know a little about Jayne?" she asked. I thought for a while and started. "Jayne has been around for about fifteen years. Way back then, she was little more that an idea, no real co-ordination. No substance, if you like." "For the first few years she was an awkward girl trying to learn, third-hand, how to behave, how to exist. Basically what other girls usually learn first-hand. About five years ago I moved into a flat and Jayne started popping round on a regular basis. Still learning the tricks and skills that other girls had already learnt by then. She doesn't date boys, or girls for that matter, and has never ventured out in the real world." Whilst I was speaking, Karen was paying rapt attention, broken momentarily by taking another bite of her meal or a sip of her wine. I went on. "It was very difficult keeping Jayne's existence away from Carol when we met. I never felt that the two of them could meet and so, Jayne went back to not being around as often. Over the last six months, Carol has had a lot of out of town trips and it was during them that Jayne visited. Only staying an hour or two and now I realise that whilst Jayne visited, Carol was with her boyfriend. Ironic isn't it? You know a little of Jayne, so what about...?" I trailed the question across the table. "Robert, you mean? I told you he was shy, he didn't really mix. Was always the loner and towards the end of his life I think he suffered from depression. He would go days getting sadder and grumpier and then he'd be his normal self for a while and then the cycle would start again." "I can understand that," I interjected. "Can you?" Karen was both surprised and curious. "It seems that if you don't dress then the pressure to do so increases daily. This has a tendency to make you draw into yourself. Like you said, people think you suffer from depression. When you finally give in and dress, the release is total. All the pressure disappears and you become your 'normal' self again." "I didn't know that, but it certainly explains Robert's behaviour. Anyway he used to come into my room at home and we would spend hours talking. Not about anything in particular, but just talking." "Do you know if he had a gender problem or just liked dressing? Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up." I had noticed that pained look in Karen's eyes again. "I don't know. He never talked about his problems and I was too blind to notice. I wish I had, maybe Robert would still..." I saw the tears well up in her eyes and changed the subject quickly. "Karen, would you like to meet Jayne tonight?" She dabbed her eyes with a tissue whilst nodding her head. "Promise you won't laugh or hate me?" I pleaded, beginning to feel ashamed as well as frightened. "I promise," she replied softly. The rest of the meal went quickly with Karen telling me some gossip about one of the secretaries in a rival firm. The drive back to my place was in silence. "Can you make some coffee and make yourself comfortable? This could take some time." I said, as I climbed the stairs. "Okay, don't worry, I won't hate or laugh at you," was her reply. Once in the bedroom, I recovered the suitcase and got undressed. "No turning back now," I sighed. I began the transformation by putting on my bra. Jayne hadn't much in the way of clothes, so my choice was made for me. So it was the same knickers, blouse, tights, skirt and shoes that Jayne wore the other day. I took my time over dressing. My legs were already smooth as I regularly shaved them; the same goes for my chest. I stepped into the knickers and slid them up my legs. I paused and contemplated whether to use my cache sex; I don't often, and decided it was better to this time. I had to make a good impression. So I slid my knickers down and retrieved the cache sex. Putting it on and getting the proper effect can be painful, but worth it. I pushed my testes back into my body and pulled up the cache sex. It held the testes in place. My penis was pushed into a pouch, which was secured underneath. The effect was of a smooth girly-like front. I put on my knickers again. I balled up the legs of my tights and slipped one leg into the foot. I always liked the way the material felt as it travelled up my leg. I did my right leg and then my left one. Making sure there were no wrinkles in the legs I pulled up the waist part. Then came the breast forms. I removed them from the box and carefully slipped them into the bra cups. I made sure they were properly located and put on the blouse. I could smell the coffee being made in the kitchen as I stepped into the blue skirt. Once zipped and buttoned, I secured the belt. Next came the wig. Once I had got that right I sat down at the dressing table and, with a shaking hand, started to apply eye shadow. I willed myself to be calm. I couldn't spoil it now. As before, I applied the eye shadow and mascara sparingly. I've always liked the taste and feel of lipstick. Applying it was always a thrill and tonight was no exception. I looked at my reflection. I'd done my best. I thought Jayne looked good. I put my feet into the shoes and, with my knees knocking, walked downstairs to meet my fate. I walked into the living room. "Hello, my name's Jayne. You must be Karen?" I forced myself to speak softly as I held out my hand to her. "Hello, Jayne. It's very nice to meet you." She took my hand and shook it gently. "Is that coffee? I'm just dying for a cup. Sit down, make yourself comfortable." I picked up the coffee and sat on the couch making sure that I kept my legs together. Karen sat opposite me and stared, wonder in her eyes. "Have I dropped something down my blouse?" I asked Karen shook her head and then said, "I was right, you are a nice woman." "Thank you," I answered. "You're not bad yourself... for your age." This was said with a smile. Karen was momentarily confused, maybe hurt, but then remembered earlier in the bathroom and burst into laughter. I joined her. "Okay we're even," she said through her laughter. "You look nice. Been anywhere?" I asked innocently. "Yes. Out for a meal." "With anyone?" I asked, trying to be even more innocent. "Yes." "Boyfriend?" I was setting Karen up. "Not really. I haven't got any boyfriends." "A good looking girl like you. I don't believe that." I was playing the feminine role to the hilt. "I don't date boys." I could see Karen's mind working overtime. I continued, "Girls then?" Karen thought and then said, "No, not girls either." "You're not a hard line feminist, are you?" She started to say something and then saw the broad grin on my face and threw a cushion at me. "I'll get you later, Jayne," she threatened. "More coffee or do you want something stronger?" I asked. "I'll have to be getting back." "Stay the night. I have a guest bed and, anyway, it's already late." "Only if Jayne is here when I wake up." "I don't know, I haven't got a lot of clothes." "I'm sure John will lend you a T-shirt." I got up and went to the kitchen, Karen's eyes following me. Waiting for the kettle to boil, I stared out of the window. I could see Jayne looking back at me. I had lost Carol, but with that loss Jayne could visit anytime she liked. She could stay as long as she liked. I was sad, but excited at the same time. Where was this going to lead? It seemed that one of my fantasies could come true. Could I live as Jayne, could I get away with it? I was deep in thought and didn't hear Karen come into the kitchen. I finally surfaced from my thoughts and saw her looking at me. "It's amazing. I don't see John at all. There is no sign that you are anything but a good looking woman," she said. "Hardly good looking," I replied. "No, I mean it. Okay, I agree you're not beautiful, but neither am I. You are attractive, you know?" "Thank you, but you are wrong. You are beautiful and although I understand why, you should go out with men. They are not all bad. There are a few of them that would be as shocked and hurt at your brothers treatment as you are." "Are you shocked?" she asked. "Yes, but remember I have my own reasons. Why do you think that Jayne only exists here and not in the real world? Being discovered is my greatest fear along with the ridicule and humiliation that would accompany that discovery." I paused and continued, "You can dress like a man and no one blinks an eyelid. I dress as a woman and I'm a disgusting freak, a faggot. In some peoples' eyes I am worse than a paedophile. Do you know how much that hurts?" Karen walked over to me, put her arms around me and said, "I didn't realise. As close to my brother as I was it seems to me that you probably understand him better than I did." "Only because he and I share, sorry, shared, the same compulsion. I don't want to be a woman, but I do like wearing their clothes. Does that make me a lesser man?" I realised that I was getting boring and decided to stop. "Sorry, Karen. I don't know where that came from. Her leaving me has really screwed me up. Maybe it's best if you go home and forget all of this. I'll start looking for another job on Monday so you won't have me to remind you of your brother." "Don't be stupid, Jayne. Okay, you're still screwed up, as you say, by Carol's leaving, but I'm still your friend. I hope that Jayne sees me as her friend?" "Of course I do, Karen." "Well then. Both Jan and I will help you over the next few months and you'll soon get over this. Life goes on. Do you think you are the first to experience being walked out on?" She was right. Lawyers made small fortunes out of divorces. I was not unique. I made the coffee and we went back to the living room. "What were you thinking about in there?" Karen asked. "I'm not sure I can say," I answered. "Why?" "Because it was silly." I had begun to think through my earlier thoughts. "How do you know?" Karen was gently pushing me. "Because it just is." "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" She was still pushing. I paused, let out a sigh and started. "I was thinking that with Carol gone, then maybe Jayne... One fantasy I have is to be able to dress as Jayne almost full time." There, I had said it; I tried to see Karen's reaction. "There would be problems, you know." "That's why it's a silly idea," I said. "No it's not. You could actually do it. You really are good enough, you've still got things to learn, but you are good enough." This, from Karen, surprised me. "But what about working, banking, dealing with officialdom?" "First, the Tax man doesn't care what you call yourself, or how you dress, they only want your money. Second, you can use Internet banking and third." She paused here. "Third, I'm sure that Jayne would be welcome at the office." "Thank you, Karen, but it is still a silly idea." "Maybe, but will you let me help you? I'll teach you the things Jayne needs to know." "Thanks again, but why?" "It'll will help me; this is what I should have done with Robert." She looked sad, vulnerable even. I just couldn't hurt her by turning her offer down. "Okay, Karen. When do we start?" I was unsure about this "Tomorrow," she said, her face all smiles. "Well, we'd better go to bed then," I said, wondering what I had gotten myself into. On one hand I was elated with the prospect of being able to dress and on the other, worried about the future. "I'll just get my clothes out of my car," Karen said. "You were always going to stay the night, weren't you?" I asked incredulously. "No, but I did hope I could." She called over her shoulder. I smiled to myself; I would never understand women. The smell of breakfast being cooked wafted into the bedroom and brought me slowly back to consciousness. I was confused; Carol never cooked breakfast. Slowly the events of the last two days came drifting back. I then realised who was cooking and, more frighteningly, who was meant to join her. Had I really agreed to do this? I got up and went to the bathroom. After my shower, I shaved my face very carefully. I wanted it to be close, but I didn't want to cut myself. I am fortunate in that my beard is usually sparse and fine. I checked my legs and chest. They would be okay for another day or two. Back in the bedroom, I put on my cache sex and grabbed the suitcase. "I seem to remember buying a white bra and knickers once," I thought. I eventually found them, I didn't often wear them because I like black, but those needed washing. After inserting the breast forms, I hunted for something to wear. I found an old T-shirt with 'I love Amsterdam' as a motif. I hadn't worn it for ages and it was a bit tight. I put on a pair of jeans and slipped my feet into my slippers. I put my wig back on and went to the mirror. A bit of lipstick and I was done. I looked at myself. The T-shirt was tight, you could see my nipples and I looked funny with men's slippers on my feet. Oh well, time for breakfast. I entered the kitchen. "Morning, Karen." "Morning, Jayne, coffee?" "Yes, please? What are you cooking?" "Just eggs and bacon, it's all I could find. You are really going to have to start eating properly." "What do you mean?" I was confused again. "Jayne, your first lesson of today is... eating. Always remember, everything you eat will end up on your hips. Say it." "Everything I eat will end up on my hips," I said. "Your weight looks okay at present, but you will have to work at keeping slim. No one looks at an overweight woman." "But who's going to look at me?" I asked. "Lesson two: Men will stare at you, actually they will stare at your tits; and a girl with that T-shirt their eyes will be out on stalks." I felt myself blush. She continued, "Women will check you out, they are looking for any possible competition." "Competition!" I exclaimed. "Yes, competition. It's a basic instinct thing," Karen explained. "If you look at the animal kingdom, generally one attracts a mate by having a better display than the others. It's the same with us; the initial attraction is down to looks. The better you look, the more potential mates you will attract." "But I don't want to attract potential mates, especially men," I said quickly. "Don't worry, there will be a lesson on how to deal with unwanted advances," Karen joked. I went and sat down at the table. This was getting serious. "Enjoy your last taste of a cooked breakfast," Karen said, as she placed the plate in front of me. Breakfast over and the crockery washed, we went into the living room. I sat on the couch and Karen sat on one of the comfy chairs. "Okay, Jayne. Just how serious are you?" She looked serious and went straight to it. "What do you mean, Karen?" I was confused. "It's not just a matter of wearing clothes, although if you want to stay indoors all the time, then that is just what it is. But if you want to move around, out there, the other side of that door, then there is a lot that you need to learn. You are good, Jayne. Very good in fact, but you still have a long way to go." As Karen was saying this I was deep in thought. She continued, "There's the way you walk, talk, use gestures, stand, sit, eat, drink and posture and that's just for starters. I haven't even talked about what to wear and when to wear it or even makeup. Before we start you need to ask yourself... how serious am I? - then answer it." I continued to think for a few moments and replied, "I am very serious. I don't think I want to change sex, but..." I paused, reordered my thoughts and said, "Look, what I want to do is live as Jayne and anything I have to do to achieve that, I will do. Is that serious enough for you?" I think now, I was challenging her. "Alright, you have three main physical problems: hair, gonads and body shape. At the moment, with one of those, your gonads, you only have one option, hiding them!" Karen was grinning as she said this. "Hair is split into three areas, body hair, that's legs, arms and chest, facial hair and that on your head. Body shape is also split into three, bust, hips and waist." She looked at me and asked. "How often do you shave?" "Face, every day, at least; legs and chest, twice a week," I answered. "Alright, you'll deal with body hair by using a combination of hair removal creams, waxing and shaving. Don't worry, we all have hair on our legs and you'll simply adore waxing." She had seen my worried look. "Facial hair is going to be a problem and I think the only answer is electrolysis." "Isn't that expensive?" I asked. "It can be, I'll find out. That just leaves your crowning glory and your shape," "What's wrong with my shape?" I asked, thrusting my chest out. Karen laughed. "Stop flashing your headlights," she said. I sat back on the couch. "Women have breasts, narrow waists, generally, and bigger hips. I don't think that you will get away with wearing those falsies for long and besides, they limit the number of clothes you can wear." "What's the answer?" I asked, even though I thought I knew what it would be. "You can have implants or hormones, but, with implants, the surgeons would need some, how can I put it, 'protuberances' to give you a natural look. So the only option is hormones backed up with implants, if necessary." "Isn't that risky?" I asked. "Depends and I only know the risks from the female side, not the male, so we'll have to do some research. Anyway, hormones should help with the hips and, to some extent, some of the body hair problems." "Is that it?" I was still pondering the possible side effects of taking female hormones. "Not quite, the last part is your waist. You are going to have to wear some form of restraint for a while." "What type of restraint?" I had terrible visions of manacles or handcuffs or both. "A corset or waist nipper, something that will help to reduce your waist." "That all," I was relieved. "The way you said it, I was expecting something worse." "You obviously have never worn a corset," was Karen's mysterious answer. "Why don't we look on the net?" I asked. "Good idea," she replied We both got up and she followed me into the study. I switched on the computer and waited for it to boot up. "All my life I have been told that computers are faster than humans. If that is so, why do we spend a lot of time waiting for them to do something?" This was one of my old sayings that I used when I wanted to appear funny. I entered my password, waited for Windows to finish booting and double clicked on the Firefox icon. Eventually my home page painted itself on the screen. "You use Google as your default search engine, do you?" Karen asked. "Yes, any suggestions on what to search for?" "Try hormones," she suggested. "Yikes, that's a lot!" I don't know why I was surprised. "Okay," Karen thought for a while, "try oestrogen." I entered the word and hit return. "Still a lot, but only web pages, no sites." I thought about this and said, "The country that is more conversant with gender problems is America. I wonder if we'd get more hits if we use the American spelling?" "Do they spell it differently?" Karen asked naively. "They spell everything differently," I said laughing. "Now how do they spell it... oh, I know?" This time I entered 'estrogen', "There you go, let's scroll down and see if anything matches." "There's a possibility," she pointed and I clicked on the link. A quick scan showed that it wasn't what we wanted. We searched for about half an hour and then hit upon a promising site. I made notes, followed links and saved pages. I closed the connection, printed out the pages, switched off the computer and we went into the kitchen. "I suppose it's my turn to make the coffee?" "You're the lady of the house, I'm just a guest," Karen said, grinning. "Thank you, ma'am," I said, trying to curtsey in jeans. Karen fell about laughing. With tears rolling down her face, she came over and kissed me on the cheek. "You're precious, do you know that?" She said. "Thanks again, Karen. Shall we look at the info we've gathered?" Sitting down on the couch together, we went through the pages, pointing different areas out to each other. "I don't like this part," I said. "Which part?" "The part that says that I could become sterile." This worried me, as I'd always thought that I would like to have had kids one day. "This bit's about having to block the male hormones, it seems that it would be healthier to be castrated." Karen was reading the article carefully. "Talking about health, it looks like I could do serious damage to my liver." This was getting very heavy. We both read on. "Jayne?" "Yes, Karen." "This stuff," she waved her arm over the scattered pages. "I think you are going to have to seek some medical advice." "Where from, Karen? My doctor's old and probably won't be sympathetic." "You don't know that, but I can introduce you to mine, if you like? She is very good and helped me a lot when Robert died." "Thanks, Karen." I looked at the clock. "Hey, it's lunch time." "Mm. Shall I make a salad?" she asked. "A salad!" "Remember lesson one," she said with a grin. I pondered and said, "Okay, a salad it is. Boy, what we women go through." Karen just laughed. We went into the kitchen and, as I got out the plates, Karen got the food. "Karen, just what type of food do I have to avoid?" "It's not just type, Jayne. It's also the amount, the way it's prepared and cooked." Karen paused and continued. "Generally women eat smaller meals than men, we also drink less." "Drink less?" This puzzled me. "Every time I'd been out with Carol, she and the other women we'd been with, seemed to match the men drink for drink." "What do you mean, 'match the men drink for drink'?" "They would drink at the same rate as the men," I answered. "But did they all have the same drink?" I thought about this. "No, most of the men were drinking pints of beer, whilst the women were drinking wine or fruit juice." "Pints of wine or fruit juice?" she said. "Of course not, Karen, women don't usually drink pints of..." "Bingo!" Karen interrupted. "It's no good just looking like a woman, the signals you send out must also say 'I am a woman' and a woman drinking a pint sends out the wrong signal. You must send out all the right signals otherwise you risk detection," she continued. "You have got to unlearn all of your masculine traits and learn feminine ones. Your actions have to become second nature." "I'm not sure I can do it," I said. "Of course you can, it'll just take time, that's all. Anyway, let's get back to your original question. You should change the way you cook, fried food adds fat and that's bad." "So if frying is out, that leaves boiling, baking, stewing and grilling," I suggested. "You really need to cook healthier. There's enough fat in food without you adding any. It's easier not to put weight on than it is to take it off. How do you think I maintain my shape?" Karen asked. "Sorry, I never thought about it," I replied. "Men don't, but it's hard work, I can tell you." With this Karen finished putting the salad together and took the plates to the table, whilst I took the coffees. I must have looked worried because she continued, "It's not all that bad, there are more good things about being a woman than bad." "I'm not sure I want to be a woman, looking like one, yes, but not being one," I offered. "To look like one, you have to be one. I don't mean that you will have to have a sex change, but when a woman says 'I'm late', you'll think period rather than appointment. You'll sit to pee, even when naked; go broody when you see a baby. That's just part of what 'being a woman' means." "Sorry, Karen. I've got a lot to learn," I replied. "Yes you have, but just wait until you experience the thrill of seeing a man dislocate his neck to get a better view of you." She was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Salad's nice," I said. "I don't normally eat just salad." "Get used to it," Karen answered. "It goes with the job, but you haven't just got salads to choose from. There's pasta, rice, even potatoes, the trick is to eat things that are low in fat and calories, but high in bulk. That way you feel full before you eat too much. Just don't overdo it on the bulk." Lunch over; we took our coffees into the living room. "Watch me as I sit down," Karen said. She put her cup on the coffee table and sat on the couch, smoothing her skirt as she sat. "Notice what I did?" she asked. "I think so, you placed your coffee on the table, sat on the couch and crossed your legs." "Why?" she asked. "What do you mean, why?" "Jayne, it isn't a simple case of plonking your bum on a chair. I did three specific things, so I want three answers to my question," she replied. "Well, the first thing you did was put your coffee on the table because you didn't want to spill any," was my first reply. "Good, as far as it goes. How did I put the cup on the table?" "I'm not sure I understand?" I was confused. Karen got up, picked up the cup and said, "There are two ways of placing things on low tables like these and they depend on the effect you want to achieve. Firstly you can bend over, placing the cup down." She demonstrated as she spoke. "The effect depends on the type of clothes you wear, but imagine I'm wearing a very short skirt and a low cut top. What do you think you'd see and how would I look?" "I think that you would possibly expose your knickers and your breasts... oh I see what you mean. It's a sexy pose." "Exactly! If I were wearing a Wonderbra with a low cut top, the man opposite would get a very good view, and may have to relieve himself, whilst the man behind could tell you the type and colour of my knickers. The other way is to bend your knees and gently place the cup on the table." Again she demonstrated the manoeuvre. "Okay, continue." "You kept your legs together as you sat," I said. "Did I do anything whilst I sat?" she asked. "I don't think so," I replied. She tutted "Not very observant are you? Watch closely as I do it again." She sat down as I watched. "Now I see, you moved your hands under your legs." "Do you know what I did?" she asked. "No... not really." I answered. "Not to worry," she said. "What I did was to smooth my skirt as I moved my hands forward and, when they reached the hem, gently pulled it forward. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, you don't crease the skirt and second, you don't show what you are wearing to people. That, by the way, was the other reason I put my coffee down, so that I'd have both hands free." "So I suppose the reason you crossed your legs was so that people don't see what you are wearing" "You've got it. Men like to know what you are wearing so that they can fantasise and women, so they can gossip. Men seem to get some perverted thrill seeing a girl's knickers. This is one of the most important things you have got to learn. I cannot stress this highly enough. Women keep their legs either together or crossed all the time they sit." "Even when they wear jeans?" I asked. "Even when they are wearing jeans. Remember, when you take the lid off a tin of beans, you can see the beans. Open your legs when you are sitting and people can tell you if you are wearing stockings, tights, red knickers, blue knickers or even no knickers at all." Karen paused and I was nodding my head, trying to take it all in. "Sitting will be one of the times you will be closest to discovery unless you learn to keep your legs crossed. Now practice sitting and standing." I began my practice with Karen giving me a running commentary. "No, not like that... better... try and keep your feet together... that's it..." She kept on and I improved, slowly. Finally, she said, "Let's call it a day, Jayne, next time you practice you'll have to wear a skirt." Karen had drunk her coffee whilst I had been 'exercising', but mine had gone cold, so I went to make another one. "Refill?" I called over my shoulder. "Yes, please?" she answered. With fresh coffees, we sat on the couch and Karen said, "Let's recap, shall we? Oh, and you sat down better that time." I went through what I could remember. "I have to watch what I eat and drink, watch what I wear..." "Watch is too strong a word, Jayne. You have to be aware of the effect the clothes you wear can have. No one is saying you have to dress like a Nun, but if you dress sexily expect comments or even advances." "Thanks, Karen. I'll try and remember that. Now where was I? I have to remember not to bend at the waist, but bend at the knees, especially when wearing short skirts and sitting is a minefield. Does that sum today up?" "Just about, you're doing okay, Jayne. Mm, I've just had a vision of you in a bikini and I can't wait to see if you match it." "Karen!! There is no way I'm going to wear a bikini," I remarked, but Karen just smiled enigmatically. "I wear one, so why not you," she said. "Because!" I said, trying to be firm. "Because what? Because you're a man, I don't see a man, do you? All I see is a nice girl who could look stunning in a bikini, after a little work, of course." "Yeah, and it's that work that I'm concerned about." I looked at Karen, who was grinning from ear to ear. I continued, "Oh, I give up! You'll have me kissing a man next." "Not if I can help it," she said softly. The rest of the afternoon was taken up with watching a film that Karen wanted to see. Before we knew it, it was dinnertime and Karen suggested Chinese. I knew a good take away that delivered and that I'd a menu for. We decided what we wanted and I ordered. It took about thirty minutes for the food to arrive and, when the doorbell rang, Karen went and paid for it. "I thought fried food was out, Karen?" I asked. "Generally yes, but food is stir fried in the Far East, which uses less fat. If you have to fry food, try stir frying it," she replied. "Have you got a wok?" "I don't know," I replied. "Well, get one. You know, I haven't asked. Can you cook, Jayne?" "Eggs, beans on toast and anything that can be nuked," I answered proudly. "A whiz kid with the microwave! I see," Karen laughed. "Well, you are going to have to learn how to cook proper meals." "I think there's a couple of cookery books somewhere, unless Carol took them." "That's a start. We'll have to get you enrolled in cookery classes," Karen said. "Who, John or Jayne?" I asked, nervously. "Jayne, of course. You silly girl." Now I was really worried. "I suppose I'm going to have to learn how to iron as well," I said, gloomily. "Yes, and how to use a washing machine. Maybe I ought to get you a maid's uniform," Karen's eyes twinkled. "Only if you get one for yourself," I quickly replied. "Oh, the possibilities! Can you speak French, by the way?" "Non, mademoiselle, but I can put on ze bad French accent," I said. "Never mind," she said, grinning. I pondered the day's events as I tucked into my food; I had enjoyed myself and looked forward to the next time. A thought crossed my mind. "Karen, you do realise that John will be at work tomorrow and not Jayne?" I'd had this horrible thought that she expected Jayne. "Yes, I had realised that, my dear," she answered. "As your instructor, and friend, I think it would be best if we take things slowly. Don't you?" "I agree, I suppose you have a timetable in mind?" "I have, but don't worry, we won't venture outside until I think that you are ready. I won't subject you to ridicule, you're too good of a friend for that," she said. "Thanks, Karen. It was the one thing that worried me the most." "What are you going to do about a lawyer?" she asked. "I haven't thought about it," I replied. "Why don't you ask John?" she was referring to Mr. Harvey-Smith. "Could do, at least he could recommend someone." "Jayne, do you mind if I leave early tonight?" she asked. "I've got a couple of things I need to attend to at home." "No, not at all. I've rather monopolised your weekend." "It was a pleasure and I am looking forward to next weekend." Karen left shortly after we finished dinner and I went and watched 'the box'. It was the usual Sunday night offerings and I was soon treating the television as 'moving wallpaper', meaning I was not taking any notice of what was on. When I decided I was ready for bed, I did the rounds and checked everything was either switched off or locked. In the bedroom, my bedroom, I stripped off, putting the wig and breast forms back in their packaging. 'I shall have to get a wig block,' I thought. I removed my cache sex and released my penis and testes from their imprisonment; boy did that feel good! With my makeup removed, I set the alarm and went to bed. I silenced the alarm at soon as it started bleeping and lay back, thinking about yesterday. Was it a dream or did it really happen? Did I spend all day as Jayne? Would Karen really buy me a maid's uniform? Did she really mean that Jayne enrol in cookery class? Just what had I got myself into? I stopped the panic and remembered the good bits. Overall I'd had the best day of my life, at least since I'd gotten married. "Shit!" I exclaimed, that last thought brought me down to earth with a bump. I began my usual morning routine and was dressed and out of the house in a little over thirty minutes. I wanted to get in early because I was worried what Karen would say to Jan. I opened up the office and got the coffee going. It was still a bit early for the mail, so I checked the milk and sugar situation. Jan rolled in at about eight-thirty and Karen ten minutes later. Over the first coffee of the day, I broke my news to Jan. "Carol's left me, Jan. She's found someone else and has moved in with him." Jan looked shocked as I told her. "You poor thing. How are you coping?" Jan asked. She knew I had been close to Carol. "So, so, and it's thanks to Karen that I survived the weekend." "So, what happens now?" "I'm going to ask one of the legal eagles for advice. Carol hinted that she wouldn't contest the divorce and has given me grounds." Jan looked at the diary. "John's in this morning, but Emanuel is out all day." "Thanks, Jan. I'll talk with John." The conversation then moved onto Jan's weekend and I noticed that Karen had come in and was unusually quiet. The mail arrived and, as I sorted it, the girls checked for any messages on the answer machines. John Harvey-Smith breezed in about nine-fifteen and I took a coffee into his office. "John, when you have a minute, I'd like to ask you for some advice?" "No problem, John. How about now?" he replied. "I'll need to get a lawyer," I started. "Carol has walked out and wants a divorce." "I'm sorry to hear that, John, but you don't need another lawyer, I'll do it." "I wasn't expecting you to do it," I stammered. "Think nothing of it, I'd enjoy the change," John said. "Do you know who she'll be using?" "No, I'll ring her at work today. She says I can cite her adultery as grounds." "So she's not going to contest the divorce then?" "I think she just wants out of it, said she's got a lover." "Well, that will make it easier and quicker, as well as cheaper." John remarked. "I'll make a couple of phone calls and let you know the rough timescale. Who knows, I might be able to call in a couple of favours." "Thanks, John, but you needn't go to all that trouble on my behalf." "No trouble at all, John," he said as I got up and went back to my desk. "How'd it go?" Karen asked, just ahead of Jan. "No problem. John says he'll represent me." I answered. "Carol's office rang," Jan said. "Saves me having to ring them," I replied. "Did they leave a message?" "Mm, something about using Frank Symonds of Morley, Symonds and Brown." "Thanks, Jan. Can you pass that on to John for me, please?" "Sure," Jan answered. "Carol certainly seems to be moving fast on this?" "I think she wants shot of me quickly, Jan." As I said this, I thought I noticed a pained expression on Karen's face. "You all right, Karen?" "Yes, I'm okay," she replied, very quietly. "No, you're not, what's the matter?" I pressed her for a proper answer. "You saying 'she wants shot of you'." "Well it's true. Why else would she just give me the house as well as hinting that she won't contest the divorce?" I said. "Maybe she's realised that marrying me was a mistake? Maybe she wants to forget about me as quickly as possible?" "And maybe she's wrong in letting you go?" Karen interrupted - again very quietly. Jan and I both looked at her and then, after a few moments, Jan's expression changed as a small smile crept over her face. "How long, Karen?" "About a year, I suppose" Karen answered. I hadn't a clue what they were on about. "I thought something was up?" Jan said. "Want to tell me about it?" "It just crept up on me," Karen was still talking softly. "I finally realised for sure last month." "What crept up on you? What did you realise? What's going on?" I was totally out of it. "Shall I tell him or will you?" Jan asked Karen. "No, I'll tell him." "Tell me what?" I was going round in circles. Jan smiled gently at me. "You mean you don't know?" "Know what, Jan? Why's everyone talking in riddles?" I was getting more confused by the minute. "I'm in love with you, stupid." Karen's head was down and she spoke very softly. "You're what?" I was flabbergasted. "John, you are a very sweet and gentle man. You have always helped both of us in every way you could and never treated us as anything but equals. You were too good for Carol and I'm glad she's gone." I went into shock as she continued. "You are so kind and sensitive and I've never heard you say a bad word about anyone." "I agree wholeheartedly with you on that one, Karen," Jan added. "I had no idea, Karen," I said. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything, not with you happily married, but you really scared the life out of me on Saturday." "No, I suppose you weren't and I'm really sorry about Saturday," was all I could say. "What's this about Saturday?" It was Jan's turn to be confused. "Let's just say I stopped John doing something extremely dumb," Karen replied. "Okay. I won't press," Jan said. "Thanks, Jan," I said, gratefully. "I thought I was hiding it, but old beady eyes over there noticed," Karen continued. "A little less of the old, thank you, but I have known you for a while now and remember, women notice these things." Jan said, smiling. "Well, I never noticed," I chipped in. "Men don't," was Jan's comment. "Don't be too hard on him," Karen asked Jan. "I could never be hard on him, Karen. He's too sweet." Jan answered. "And keep your hands off, I'm going to make him mine," Karen giggled and Jan laughed with her. "Do I have a say in this?" I asked. "No!" they both said, laughing even harder. "Women!" I said, as I left them to it and went to make more coffee. I plunged deep in thought, while I waited for the kettle to boil. Karen's revelation had shaken me; I'd had no idea. Am I that blind? What else had I missed? I tried to remember the past year; nothing out of the ordinary sprang to mind. I didn't think that I'd behaved differently to either of them. I still couldn't understand why Karen was in love with me. I'm just an ordinary guy, no different from the rest. Actually, just like the rest, now that I've got a broken marriage. The coffee made, I took the cups back into the office. The girl's laughter had subsided into giggles. 'Just look at them,' I thought. 'Looking at each other and behaving like schoolgirls.' "Any chance of either of you getting back to work?" Well, I was the Office Manager! "Masterful, isn't he?" Jan said, and they both collapsed back into hysterics. "Oh, I give up!" I said, as I went back to the kitchen. Karen came in a few minutes later. "You know that Jayne will have get some more clothes, don't you?" she said. "I know." I hesitated. "Karen, you're not serious, are you?" "What about?" "About what you said?" "I've said a lot of things, John." "About you being in love with me." She paused and then said, "Yes, John. I'm very serious." "Why?" Yes, it was a stupid question, but I didn't have another. "I meant what I said about you. You really are a nice bloke." "That's very nice, Karen, but you still love me even with what you know?" "That just makes it even better," Karen replied. "But I'm not in love with you, you know that. I like you. I like you very much and you are very, very nice, but I'm still married to Carol." "Not for much longer, but I understand that. I just hope that, over time, our friendship will grow into something stronger. I will wait, John, I hope that it won't be too long, but I will wait for ever." "I'm overwhelmed. I didn't know you felt like that, but I can't promise anything." "Again, I know that, but, even if you never grow to love me, I will always be your friend. I will also be Jayne's friend." Karen's eyes were moist. Kissing her on the cheek, I said, "Thank you, Karen." I went back into the office and Karen followed a couple of minutes later. The rest of the day was routine, actually the whole week was routine. John let me know that Carol's solicitor had sent him a letter confirming Carol wouldn't contest the divorce and that she didn't want the house or anything in it. That being the case, John told me that he could get the petition before a judge within a month. It was Saturday morning and I was waiting, anxiously, for Karen to arrive. We were going shopping for clothes for Jayne. The bell rang and I rushed to the door. How different to a week ago. Karen waited on the doorstep; I motioned for her to come in. As she passed, she gave me a kiss on the cheek, then went into the living room. "Want a coffee before we go?" I asked. "Yes please, John." she answered. An hour later, we were heading for Parkside, a large shopping complex. As expected, parking was chaotic, but we managed to find a space and headed off into the mall. "Are you ready for this, John?" Karen asked. "I think so," I answered. "Remember, we're shopping for Jayne, if you think she won't like anything, say so." "Don't worry! I will," I said. First stop was BHS, where we stocked up on bras and knickers, being careful not to buy too many and thereby inviting questions. On to Marks & Sparks for more bras and knickers and a couple of tops I'd noticed. I carried the bags back to the car, then rejoined Karen. Opposite the food court was a nail shop and I treated Karen to a manicure. I drank coffee whilst she was being pampered. Once they had finished, she came over and showed off her new nails. They'd put extensions on and painted them pink. I was dead jealous. A couple of dresses, blouses, tights, stockings, suspender belts and three skirts and a pair of jeans, all followed the bras and knickers into the car. That just left shoes. Karen is a four and a half, Jayne a five. We decided that I would pick the styles and then try them in the safety of my home. "If we use Clarks, then if they don't fit, you can get them changed locally," I offered. "It will be better when Jayne can try them on in the shop," Karen replied. "Yes, I know." We bought a pair of 'strappy' sandals with a two-inch block heel and a pair of knee length boots with a three-inch stiletto heel. I was shattered. "Time for bed, said Zebedee," I recited a line from an old kids programme called The Magic Roundabout, indicating that it was time to go home. "Yes, please!" Karen jumped in quickly. "Behave, you," I shot back, grinning while Karen just pouted. During the long drive home, we talked about nothing in particular, just small talk. When we were almost home, Karen said. "John, I'd like to return last week's favour and take you out for a meal." "No problem, Karen." "You sure?" "I'm sure, you choose the place." I said. "You're being good about this." "Why not, we're only going for a meal." "So, you're happy to be seen outside, as Jayne." I heard the sound of a penny dropping inside my head. I momentarily lost control of the car and exclaimed. "Jayne!" "Yes - Jayne," Karen said firmly. "Now hold on a bit! You didn't say anything about Jayne going out." I drove the rest of the way in a dazed and concerned state. Once home, it took little time to unload the car and for the packages to be taken to my bedroom. The underwear was put into drawers, the dresses and skirts hung up in the wardrobe and Jayne's hair put on a wig block that Karen had bought. "Go and have a bath and a shave whilst I select something for Jayne to wear," Karen suggested. I meekly complied, I felt I was being railroaded, but I did trust Karen. As I lay, soaking, in the hot scented water, I wondered what Karen was selecting for Jayne. I had a long soak and, feeling refreshed, decided it was time for my shave. I soaped my chin and reached for my Gillette. I wrapped a towel around my waist and went to find out what I was going to wear. Karen had laid the clothes out on the bed. She scowled upon seeing me. "J