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THE COUNTERFIET MISTRESS. It was now the third year of the war, and on my eighteenth birthday that I had decided to enlist in the services, army or navy, it didn't really matter to me. So, full of enthusiasm for the challenge that service life and the opportunity to serve 'King and Country' would offer I set out wearing my 'Sunday best', catching the bus to the nearest recruiting office and joined the many other young men keen to 'get at em' , some with their call-up papers clenched in their hands. We filled out our enlistment forms and then were required to strip for the medical, so I was bitterly disappointed, when, after a cursory examination, I was told to get dressed, thus rubber stamping the apparent inadequacies that had plagued my life to date. I had been the butt for many cruel jokes even from a small boy, and my appearance in trousers where-ever I went always caused me problems, even here, in the local recruiting office, as I finished dressing, trying to restrain the bitter tears welling up inside me, while looking away and closing my ears to the snide remarks from the young men around me. I couldn't help my small hands, small feet, and 5'3' height, nor the other appendages about me that were small, but I knew I had the killing instinct for I would willingly have throttled the doctor as he stamped my enlistment papers, 'unfit for duty'. My educational qualifications were something else, for although my parents had only been able to send me, with my sisters, to the local 'sixpence a week' school until 13 years of age, I had excelled in all my academic subjects and while working as a sales assistant in a drapers shop I had studied languages assiduously, and it was there, all written down on my form, French, German, maths and all the sciences, but evidently to no avail as I had been relegated to the scrap-heap. Mum was most understanding and not a little pleased when I arrived home, but Dad snorted, buried his head in his paper and murmured, 'Pansy' just so that I could hear the contempt in his voice, and when my two older sisters arrived home from the munitions -factory they jokingly suggested I should dress up in a skirt and go and work with them as my contribution to the war effort! Later that night in my bed I sobbed uncontrollably until the early hours and the following morning at 8 o'clock, reported to my old job amidst amused glances from my mostly female workmates. It was about a week later on my day off that a smart-looking chap in civvies, and in his thirties knocked at the door of our three up, two down terraced house and was ushered into the parlour, and after a long conversation Mum came out to the scullery where I was washing-up to tell me the guy wanted to talk to me. Mum fussed around me removing my apron and tidying my hair, and I made my way to the parlour to meet my distinguished-looking visitor who was sitting on the sofa and admiring Mum's aspidistra, biggest in the street some said. Having introduced himself with his army rank and name, he produced a file containing my enlistment papers and quizzed me on my academic background, as I complained bitterly about my shabby treatment in the recruiting-office. He suggested I might be in a position to make a positive contribution to the war effort, and be given the necessary training to do so. Having nothing to lose I readily agreed, since I assumed it was obviously of a covert nature reminiscent of the Mata Hari story I had read about in the 'Daily Sketch'. He handed me a card and a travel warrant with instructions to report within 24 hours to the address listed on the card, and to inform my employer I was quitting forthwith, but before he left, my parents were required to sign an official secrets document which he produced from his briefcase. After he had gone Dad made no little secret of the fact he was proud to know I was of some use after all, despite our previous differences, and wished me all the best while Mum went out to prepare some freshly laundered underwear and collars and shirts to take with me on my impending trip. The following evening I duly presented myself at the locked gates of a large mansion set in acres of grounds near Wantage having travelled the last two miles by horse and cart from the railway station and when I rang at the bell two armed soldiers who came out of the gatehouse inspected my documents before letting me in and escorted me up the drive to the main house. The impressive door was opened by a smartly dressed woman in a full - length light silk dress worn under a shift of pierced black chantilly lace who took my case and ushered me across the hall and into a large room with a large desk at one end behind which sat a number of senior officers, all sporting large moustaches. "Please come forward and take a seat Brown!" Barked one of my reception committee - and I stepped forward and took my seat as they all took a moment to shuffle their files and papers before the Colonel in charge fixed me with a questioning stare. - "You have already signed the Official Secrets Act so we can get right down to business." "You have been chosen to form part of an elite squad of men and women known as 'M.I.5' and you will receive training to fulfil a variety of demanding roles to protect the integrity of your country both here and overseas, but suppressing any urges to physically or mentally dominate your fellow beings by force, except in the case of the Hun for which you will receive hours of practice in close combat, self-defence, weapons training with Lee Enfield rifles and German Mauser machine guns, covert communication skills, speech theraphy, and then he continued stranger still, dressmaking and needlework and lessons in cooking up the most effective herbal 'remedies' to despatch our common enemy!" I asked whether I would be in uniform, to which, having exchanged glances with the others, he went on to say - "Yes young man, but not the sort of uniform you had in mind." "Much of the time you will operate in various disguises to throw your enemy off the scent, although some forms of concealment may not be to your taste, as in your case, you will soon find out! - and if you are ready, Brown, we will make a start." The maid now stepped forward and with a curt - "Follow me", - led me up the main stairs, along a corridor and into to an enormous bedroom which really took my breath away, where I was invited to wash and tidy-up ready for an early dinner as she left me to my own devices. The first object -that struck me was the large bed with its embroidered sheets which were already turned back, and across the counter-pain was draped a ladies white nightdress in finest white silk the armholes trimmed with ribbon-slotted lace insertions and frills, the low cut bust of which was also decorated with lace insertions and pin-tucks, and a generous flounce to the hem of this gorgeous garment, while the matching negligee was to be seen, hanging behind the door. I was tempted to investigate further and opened all the drawers and cupboards in the room and was rather surprised to find they were full of ladies garments of superior quality, much-much finer than was stocked in our modest drapers shop and I intrigued as I could see no sign of my suitcase. I was suddenly disturbed by the sound of a bell announcing dinner, so I clattered off to find my way to the dining hall where I was coolly greeted by half a dozen or so ladies and gentlemen, some still in army uniform while all eyes studied me intently. I was invited dine and sat next gentleman that called at our house, although in my thoughts as the meal progressed I was still recalling the beautiful nightdress lying on the counter-pain upstairs. We were on the second course when the Colonel rose from his seat and turned to address his remarks directly to me. "I must apologise for springing this on you so suddenly young man, but what you are being asked to do will entail a great deal of personal courage on your part and for which you will be expertly trained and assured by your parents that possess the ability to do what ever is required of you in the call of duty." He coughed awkwardly, and then continued - "Having already obtained your family's consent, and been informed that that we have made arrangements for your entire, immediate family to be relocated, - your sisters no longer to work at the munitions factory but to be involved in more peaceful pursuits, while it would be arranged for father to take early retirement from his job as a bank clerk. Further-more, your family will all be living under assumed names and completely divorced from all previous friendships and relationships for the duration of hostilities." I wondered what would happen about my eldest sister's boyfriend, away in France so what she would think of it? But his next sentence came like a bolt from the blue! "From now on young man, your name will be Victoria Jane Hamilton, youngest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Earnest Hamilton residing in Colchester, Essex, so forget completely whoever you were, or whatever you were in the past." I swallowed hard as he took my hands in his then continued softly, as he looked kindly into my eyes - " I am sure, dearest Victoria you will find this a challenge well within your capabilities?" I was shocked at what he proposed I was being asked to do and the manner in which it was put to me! "But sir, I am surprised that you and your compatriots feel I am so weak and fragile as to be only suited to a feminine role and that I will be only too pleased to full-fill this ill- conceived dream at your behest! - I am a man, not a woman!" - "But since you feel in the call of duty I will be offered an outstanding opportunity to serve King and country, I will give it my best shot!" There was a great sigh of relief from around the table as the Colonel snapped his fingers and an attractive young lady stepped forward. - "Please come with me Sir, and I will help you get changed into something more appropriate for your needs." - and I squirmed at what my future might have in store and the pleasures awaiting me up in the bedroom and as I followed her waves of delighted anticipation coursed through my body demanding the attention of such a lovely creature! We returned to my room to find the nightdress still beckoning me, although my cut-throat razor and toilet articles were neatly laid out in the bathroom, ready for use there was no sign my case. "I am Emily - Miss, I have already run your bath and prepared everything for your transformation, so you only have go and enjoy a good soak. Having stripped and bathed in an enormous bath of perfumed hot water that Emily had kindly run for me, I wandered back to the bedroom and tentatively picked up the flouncy nightdress, perplexed and wondering, 'is this really for me?'- But in a flash it was up and over my head and shoulders when I heard the door bang, and Emily bustled in, and although she must have seen my John Thomas she merely remarked - "How does it fit, Miss?" as the flounced hem settled round my ankles, my face burning with shame and embarrassment, as I tried to reply in a normal voice. - "Hrmmp!Umm! fine thank you Emily" - She grinned as she stared down at my nether regions, - "Don't worry Dear, - I have seen worse!" and with that riposte she checked the blackout curtains, switched on the bedside lamp, removed the warming-pan from the bed, and helped me snuggle down into bed, tucking me in firmly before trotting over to the door and turning performed a mock curtsey with a "Goodnight Miss Victoria." and a cheeky smile as she departed the room. 'Now here's a queer kettle of fish.' I giggled to myself as I put out the lights and snuggled up in my new nightdress while wondering what tomorrow would bring, besides a new female 'handle' and a different surname as well as the other 'minor' complications which I didn't dare venture to think about, preferring instead to 'dream sweet dreams'. During the night I was awakened by a siren, heralding a zeppelin raid and switching on the bed-side light I slipped into the exotic confection hanging on the door, and having slid my feet into the furry mules at the side of the bed ran quickly out of the door and into the corridor, and as the house roused itself, more femininely attired fellow-inmates began to exit from the other bedrooms as we all made a bee-line for the basement shelter, where the roll was duly called I listened fascinated as some deep -throated voices answered to names like Miss Fanny, or Miss Beatrice, and having become so engrossed in studying my quaintly garbed compatriots, some I noted ruefully, with short hair, like my own, although an exotically dressed 'Miss Florence' was summoned three times before she finally appeared! We then heard the throb of an airship's engines as it approached, and silence descended on everyone like a curtain. But the 'girl' opposite me smiled and said - "You are new here aren't you?" So we were soon engaged in animated conversation until the 'all clear' sounded and we traipsed off back to our beds. My conversation with Lily had given me much to think over - so sleep was denied as I tossed and turned ruminating over an uncertain future although it looked as though I would be following in Mahta Hari's footsteps closer than I anticipated. Lily had been shipped from the States by Uncle Sam about a year ago, but within a week her alter ego had been wounded and indicated where as she placed her hand in the groin over her chinese silk nightdress. - "Its ruined my marriage prospects," she giggled, and I wondered how I would fare in that direction when it was all over. She had been here for five months and was being trained to parachute behind German lines, but my bitchy intuition told me she was too much of a chatterbox to make a good spy. She was a female impersonator on the vaudeville circuit in the States, her mother was French so Lily was fluent in that language, and her vocal tones and general appearance was so authentic with a glorious head of blonde hair tumbling to well below her shoulders, framing a beautiful round face - it made me feel sick in the stomach with my short, unruly mop and feeling completely out-of-place in my female garb, though I reflected happily that there were many more grotesque sights than me! "Time for breakfast Miss Victoria,"- the cheerful voice of Emily was a little off - putting as she bustled in with my breakfast tray which probably represented a months food rations for some poor blighter, but I sat up in bed as my maid placed the silver tray in my lap, puffed up the pillows behind my back and drew the blackout curtains upon a glorious summers day. While I was eating, Emily busied herself choosing an appropriate outfit for me to wear for the day and placing the garments over a chair ready for me to slip into after which I was in a more receptive mood, so while she was tidying up I asked how long she had been at 'Wantage Hall'. "This is my second year Miss Victoria - I have been here on and off since I was 13 and I am now 17." I gently fingered the lace of my nightdress. "You are only a year younger than me so don't you feel uncomfortable with all us strange men around the place, and you being the only a girl?" She looked round with a dazzling smile on her face as she began to speak in cultured tones, - "Not in the least Victoria, - after all, I am the same as all of you underneath." For a moment I was completely floored as she continued, - "After I was first 'breeched' Mummy and Daddy always found me to be a difficult child as a boy, and had read about 'petticoat punishment' in a lady's journal, so decided to try it out on me using my sisters cast-off clothes as ammunition - frock, frilly drawers, corsets, petticoats and so on. - Well, I found I liked being in the 'firing- line', and they liked the idea of two daughters, but my sister used to get annoyed when I pinched her best silk combinations, and one thing led to another, so here I am." - "But don't you get bored looking after other people?' I enquired, 'Not really, you see I sometimes go out on 'covert counter-espionage work, with one of our 'female' agents - either as two sisters, or as Mother and daughter - its quite exciting - of course my Daddy won't let me go to France - he says I'm too young." It turned out her father was my 'host' and had assigned Emily to help me make the difficult transition from an eager young blade to a demure but seductive young woman. "You see it was little me that gave Daddy the idea for 'cross gender' espionage in the first place"- and she puffed her bosoms with pride. She smacked her hands together and barked like a sergeant-major, - "Now off you go to the bathroom, young lady, and make sure you wash in all those nasty little places and despite her tender years I did what I was told, but really in anticipation of being arrayed in those bewitching clothes laid over the chair as I scuttled off in my furry mules to wash and shave and complete more basic formalities. When I returned to the bedroom and slipped out of my nightdress and negligee, Emily bent down and held up a pair of lavishly decorated pale pink silk frilled combinations with an embroidered net bodice for me to step into and I slipped my arms into the ribbon shoulder straps as Emily tightened the ribbon draw-string at the waist. Next moment 'Victoria' began to find out who was boss, as a full-length white satin whalebone corset was clasped firmly round my waist, and having padded out my 'bust' with inserts Emily began the tedious task of tightening the tough drawstrings down the back of the garment as I howled and screamed in pain and ecstasy as my waist was relentlessly squeezed to more modest proportions by this deadliest of weapons in a lady's armoury. "Can you still breath?" - I tested my lungs, - "Phew - Yes- Just." - "Umm better be a bit tighter then"- she joked as she playfully yanked at the draw-strings and giggled uproariously at my murmurs of dissent. "Sit on the stool Vicky, and I will put on your stockings.' I waddled stiffly over to the dressing-table stool and having centred my posterior over the target slowly bent at the knees and winced with pain as I 'bottomed-out' on the stool, but when I tried to alter my posture to a more relaxed position, my corset only dug further into my flesh. Meanwhile, Emily was rolling a silk stocking over my shapely ankle, up my calf, over my knee and up my freshly shaved and powdered thigh as far as it would stretch before hooking the front suspender to the welt at the top of the stocking, before repeating the performance with the other leg, and with both stockings anchored in front she slapped my thigh and told me to stand up so that she could fasten them at the back. "Now how does that feel?- she asked cheerily as I growled - "You want to try it sometime?" to which she replied "I do just that every day- Mummy tightens mine, its just heavenly - isn't it?" - but I was in no mood to agree as she handed me a pink chemise to slip around my shoulders that matched my combinations. - She powdered my face and throat, and applied eye-shadow to my eyes, then having applied carmine to my lips and rouge to my cheeks she stepped back to admire the result .The blouse she had chosen for me was a dainty high- necked virgin-white voile blouse with long sleeves and lace flounced cuffs which she buttoned all way down the back, and I noticed my pink chemise peeped through the blouse. My hobble skirt was in black velvet, and after I had stepped into this pencil-slim garment, Emily secured the buttons on the waistband, and she handed me a pair of elegant black suede leather shoes with three inch 'Louis' heels and suggested I might like to try to put them on myself in a corset and a hobble skirt, and I was soon struggling hard just to reach down to my ankle while Emily giggled at my efforts before she relented and completed the job for me. She led me over to the mirror and examined my 'mop' which she then combed tightly against my scalp before producing a light golden hairpiece which she fitted over my head, and as the curls cascaded around my shoulders I shivered with delight at the result. I really felt great! - A slim, respectable, middle-class young woman with the world at her feet. "When your hair grows out enough, I will be able to 'marcel' your hair - its very fashionable these days." - and as Emily sprayed me with perfume I recalled that for safety reasons women working in factories had to have their hair cropped back to the nape of the neck, and how my sisters had complained bitterly at having their beautiful long tresses abused so - only to be compounded by their squeals of pain when the curling-iron accidentally touched their scalp as mother tried to give them both permanent waves, - a requirement which I never, ever dreamed I would be likely to need - how times change! My five months confinement' at Wantage flew by, - so intensive was the training - And apart from Emily had little time to develope any personal relationships with my fellow -trainees, but it was fascinating to watch the way an apparently masculine person in 'drag' would move on through various-stages of effeminacy, - to finally arrive at the ultimate goal, - outwardly appearing 100 per cent female, and inwardly feeling perfectly at peace with their assumed identity and sub-consciously suppressing the masculine side of their personalities! I had corresponded regularly with my family during the 5 months at Wantage and although for security reasons I had played down the nature of my training and although letters from my father addressed to 'Victoria' were innocent enough they were stilted and withdrawn. My sister's letters to 'Vicky' read like the pages of the 'Army and Navy' catalogue, as she enquired whether I had acquired any new clothes lately, and then describe in detail their latest fashions, accompanied by regular printed catalogues to supplement the choices imposed on me by some old crone working for the War Office and whet my appetite for feminine finery more to my taste be it an elaborate, floaty dance dress or a dainty pair of lacy drawers and even at that distance I felt myself blush at the inference drawn, so my first trip to our new 'home' would be a traumatic experience. During the later stages of my training I made several dummy runs, sometimes with Emily as a minder', and then found myself successfully posing as a temporary sales-lady in the lingerie department of D.H.Evans, ("Yes, Modom would like this chemise? and will she be requiring the 'drawers' to match?"), As a stand-in waitress at a local hotel in Newbury during which I heard the hilarious story from the porter, - of a 'waitress' in a 'frilly pinny' who had dropped a tray full of soup in a customer's lap, and who, in a deep voice passed the most obscene expletive imaginable. I assumed he had failed the course and would be despatched to the front pronto, although I decided the porter was probably already in on the act and may have been pulling my leg, but fortunately for me I had little problem with raising my initial falsetto squeaks to match the female intonations of the day. There was one occasion when Emily and I, suitably attired as 'gypsies', black shawls, black lace blouses, black skirts and shabby old lace-up boots, but wearing brightly embroidered aprons, were required to interview a distinguished pianist from America who was here on war work and staying at the Regents Park Hotel, off Picadilly. He was rather superstitious and Emily as my 'minder' was to make her way to his apartment and talk him into having his fortune told by her 'sister' who was waiting to be summoned outside in Regent Street. Emily's spiel worked, and she clattered out to where I was stationed selling 'lucky white heather' from a large basket. I left Emily with the basket and with the bag containing my crystal ball over my shoulder, stalked up to the main portico of the hotel. 'No gypsies allowed,' barked the tall stately looking gent. in a top-hat at the door, "But Mister - there's a gent. inside my sister sez needs my services." The doorman glowered down at me - "I'm sorry, but you can't go in." - "But mister, I must," I persisted, - but when he raised his spotlessly white glove to beckon to a caped gentleman in a pointed hat, I decided to make a tactical withdrawal and lose a few brownie points in the process. Evidently two female gypsies in one day was more than the doorman could stomach - meanwhile I dumped our supply of 'lucky white heather', basket and all, in the Regents Canal! Before I departed for my new home I was given final instructions by Emily's father when he took Emily and I into Maidenhead for a slap-up meal, which sounded an appropriate place to go under the circumstances, and we were both wearing whispy voile printed evening gowns, very flattering to the figure. During the meat course a French concoction, - 'steak tartare' which turned out to be raw mince topped with a raw egg! He patronisingly began with "Well, Victoria my Dear, you are a credit to us all, - especially Emily here who has enjoyed your time with us immensely". I could see Emily redden slightly at his remark. "Your family has done a grand job, having firmly established a reputation in Colchester as ardent pacifists, - and their efforts are to be reinforced by your taking up a teaching post at 'Peacehaven Girls' boarding school, which is where a few draft dodgers and sons of many 'connies' (consciencious objectors) end up, suitably disguised. The authorities have chosen to ignore this pacifist den, preferring instead to allow possible German collaborators to operate in a number of controlled environments throughout Great Britain of which 'Peacehaven' is one, and we are satisfied that up until 12 months ago we had the situation under control. By now as the Colonel droned on, Emily and I had given up the steak tartare and while eagerly awaiting something more palatable, we kicked off our shoes and were playing footsie under the table to relieve the monotony, - sensuously lifting the hems of our voile dresses with each others' instep and sliding our feet up between each others silken- clad thighs with our stockinged appendages as we ravished each other by wiggling our toes in the appropriate places, quite a stimulating experience which had us both blushing profusely and panting away to which the only answer was a quick trip to the 'ladies' to dampen our ardour, as in a half-strangled voice Emily interrupted her father. - "Excuse me please Daddy, but Vicky and I must go to the ladies," He looked down his nose with some annoyance evidently aware of our clandestine activities - "Certainly girls, but don't be too long in there playing around!" he barked - and having slipped our tootsies back into our shoes we scampered off, and after about ten minutes of intense 'freshening-up', breathlessly we returned to the Colonel minus our damp drawers now safely deposited in our handbags as he continued my 'debriefing'. "We have good reason to believe that a German agent is now active at the school and obtaining classified information from the nearby top-secret weapons establishment and sending it across the North Sea to the enemy, - either by submarine, zeppelin, or some other method yet unknown to us, therefore, Victoria, you are being called upon to plug this gap, - shall we drink to that shall we?' and Emily and I thankfully drained our glasses and started on the sweet-course as the Colonel went off to the toilet Emily giggled "He's not sch a silly old 'Fuddy-Daddy'- but quite sweet," I diplomatically replied and we settled back to enjoy the rest of the evening. It was the following morning that I went off to 'Peace-Haven School' soberly dressed in a brown two piece suit with a full length skirt and medium heeled shoes for my interview, during which I was asked searching questions about my pacifist leanings, and having been given the 'medical' I had been warned about, so even the male doctor was cross-dressed and apparently draft-dodging! The Headmistress was pleased to confirm my appointment as domestic science and needlework teacher and I confirmed I would start the very next day. From what I had seen of the 'girl' pupils and despite their frills and furbelows in their parents' apparent efforts to help them avoid compulsory conscription if and when the time came, they looked a tough bunch, - untidy, uncouth, - continually fighting each other and not at all sylph-like in their behaviour, but the authorities seemed happy to ignore this 'Island of Peace' in an otherwise warring nation, but that was up to them whatever their reasons. My priority was to establish if someone in the school was feeding information to the Germans and how it was being done. I quickly adapted to the school routine and put into practice teaching the housewives skills I had been taught in Wantage, and I was already used to meeting persons of doubtful gender without developing a guilt complex as to my own condition. It was a few days later that I found Emily had been assigned to the case, but as a pupil, although I avoided speaking to her directly, we soon established a 'dead letter-box' through which to communicate. She certainly did the school uniform proud in her white lace blouse, very full short black skirt, white petticoats and long, lacy drawers, the flounces of which hung untidily, but provocatively below the hem of her skirt, her long hair was brushed to a brilliant sheen and held in place with a white hair-ribbon, and I was over the moon to have her working with me on my first assignment. The 'mistresses', if you can laughingly call them that, were free to wear what they liked and to watch the way some of them disported themselves was painful to bear, - their masculine features barely hidden by the powder and paint applied to a heavy coating of stubble. But some were extremely beautiful creatures, although one woman in particular, who was the art teacher, stood out from the rest, even though she was about fifty, but she had such grace, style and poise in spite of the severe clothes that she always wore, but she was obviously of a superior intellect to all the other 'Ladies' and was probably more than a match for me, somehow I was convinced that she was my 'man'. During my first week I was getting to know the staff and pupils, and I hadn't expected to make much progress, but when a fortnight was up I was more restive. Emily was keeping me briefed on anything she had gleaned from her 16 year-old compatriots in the girls dorms, courtesy of our 'post-box' and although I read her copious notes through and through, they didn't seem to offer much hope of future progress. But then a pupil was found dead in the cold-room attached to the kitchen and it was assumed she must have gone in there in her nightdress one evening, possibly as a prank and must have been accidentally locked in, and it was mid-morning the following day before her tortured body was found under some sacking where she must have cowered for warmth. The police were called and the coroner informed before the distraught mother arrived to reclaim the body and remove the belongings of her 'daughter' having only buried her husband following a zeppelin raid the week before. The girl had attended her father's funeral but had not disclosed the reason for her absence to her school-chums although they noticed how 'weepy' she had become and with the connivance of the coroner the whole episode was hushed up, what with a war on. I had a feeling in my water that this was the lead we were looking for and soon Emily and I were sniffing around to see what we could turn up. The 'girl' who died was 'Patchwork Penny', so nicknamed by her obsession with needlework, and before her mother had arrived I searched her locker and clothing and scrutinised all her letters and exercise books while Emily quietly checked with former friends of the girl. It was only when her best friend came up to me just before needlework class and tearfully explained she would like to finish off the patchwork that poor Penelope was working on - I suddenly realised that was the one place I hadn't searched, - her locker in the needlework room. "But please Miss, her patchwork isn't there" she continued, her eyes full of tears. "There, there dear, maybe one of the other pupils has taken it as a keepsake" I responded soothingly, but later, intensive enquiries failed to turn up the missing needlework. While my young pupils crowded round I double-checked her locker for my own satisfaction, although her needlework basket contained the hexagonal-shaped pieces of material ready prepared to baste to the linings, the cardboard linings, which were cut out from pint and quart sized cardboard milk-tops were also missing. "Please Miss," piped up a young voice,-"Penny had a pile of milk-tops already prepared to use - she gave me some only the other day to finish off the quilt I was working on, to save me bothering grumpy Miss Harris." Later that day the child's patchwork dress and all her spare milk-tops were shipped off for expert analysis and it was discovered that some of the dairy's printed cardboard lids concealed Micro-dots which were only visible under ultra-violet light, and having replaced the offending lids with doctored ones, the girl's patchwork was returned in time for her next needlework lesson. Tying up the loose ends was easier than we anticipated. I asked Intelligence to trace the movements of the horse-drawn milk-float prior to its arrival at the school in the afternoon, - and bingo! The milkman's morning round included the defence establishment. It was soon observed that a small percentage of empty bottles were returned with the cardboard lid replaced in the top of the bottle, which is not at all unusual; but the accomplice in the base, aided by the milkman was using this innocent ploy to smuggle state secrets to the Art Mistress for onward transmission to Germany. Firstly, with a small Ultra Violet light to identify the microdots, she would then, with a razor blade strip off the cardboard backing and despatch the information by homing pigeon, a number of which she kept concealed in the loft of the art-room which was formerly the sports pavilion. Naturally their cooing was associated with the fan-tail doves who used the roof of the art-room as a stopping-off point on their flights to and from the dove-cote. Apparently the unfortunate Penny had somehow stumbled on what was going on, but because of her family's pacifist beliefs had kept mum, that is until the demise of her father, which prompted her to inform the traitor of her intention to go to the authorities and fortunately the girl had anticipated the spy's possible reaction and somehow intercepted and stolen some of the sensitive information and passed it on to her friend to be used in her patchwork dress, and thanks to Emily the unfortunate Penny did not die in vain. For reasons of expediency, we killed Miss Harris in a fall from the roof of the art-room, while the rest of her accomplices were rounded up, while Emily and I mysteriously disappeared, leaving the school in a quandry as to what exactly had been going on under their very noses. Soon enough the fateful day for my trip home arrived, and having taken meticulous care over my makeup and marcelled my auburn hair, which was by now of a reasonable length, Emily dressed me in the daintiest lingerie in my wardrobe, a rose pink confection in voile and lace, which showed clearly through my white lawn blouse, over which I wore a rose-pink bolero jacket and matching hobble-skirt with black hat, gloves and accessories, and I wore a pair of pearl earrings, a farewell present from Darling Emily. We said our goodbyes at the railway station where an army captain kindly helped me and my case into a first-class compartment, I kissed Emily lightly on the cheek and thanked her for all she had done. I waved my lace embroidered handkerchief from the window as the train sped away, and when I sat down on my seat found it very difficult, even with a hand mirror, not to smudge my make-up as I wiped the tears from my eyes. Our house in Colchester was more like a mansion after our modest terraced house and as the motor-taxi drew up at the gate I noticed the pacifist leaflets displayed in the windows, and as I paid, the taxi-driver sniffed and commented "'Not going there are you Miss?' I gave him a killing look and picking up my case from the parcel shelf, turned and waddled off up the path to the house. My ring at the bell was answered by my father, unkempt and unshaven minus his shirt-collar and with his braces dangling at his sides, and it was obvious from his enquiring stare that he didn't know who I was. "'Hello Daddy," I whispered quietly, trying out my new voice on him for the first time. He gulped, "'Oh. its - Umm. Umm" - I was beginning to feel like a pratt standing there and he awkwardly backed away as I prompted him into action - "Its Victoria, - your youngest daughter, don't you remember?" - My haughty tone caught him off guard. - "Aren't you going to ask me in Daddy?"- his facial reaction was like that of a frightened rabbit but he sidled slowly up to the door and held it wide open as I stepped over the thresh-hold and into the hall as he yelled - "He's here!" - "Let me take that from you Son" - He said, forgetting himself, as I handed him my case and he shuffled off down the hall and out of sight, but chattering voices echoed from the back of the house as my screaming sisters arrived and the three of us gaily kissed and embraced at my homecoming. "Lets' look at you Vicky?" - and my two sisters stepped back and took in the smallest detail in my costume. "My-oh-My! You are Stunning! - How did you do it?" - Mabel, my youngest sister gasped admiringly at my appearance and my bosom swelled perceptively as I replied "It wasn't easy, girls, - I tried to avoid being turned into a 'Sissy', but I failed miserably as you can see!" - I couldn't resist a confident twirl in my newly found persona. "Hello dearest Victoria.' I looked up as my mother floated down the stairs and I trotted forward to fall eagerly into her embrace while my sisters crowded round as she kissed me and whispered, - "Welcome home, my little fairy." 'Isn't she marvellous, Mother?" gushed Rose, my other sister, -"Give us a twirl' and as they watched I centred on one heel and swung twice round full-circle for Mother to see how much I had changed. "The perfect Lady of Leisure isn't she?" - My younger sister and arch- rival for mothers affections remarked with just a hint of resentment in her voice,- "If they can do that for Him- what could they do for us?" She continued coolly, but mother just stood there in raptures and then taking me by the arm, said,- "Lets' go into the lounge while Mabel puts the kettle on." - And as Mabel glowered I felt the first flushes of anger and embarrassment, although I knew there was nothing in my appearance which she could really ridicule - my behaviour so far had been exemplary so she was unable to mark me down' on that score. Having put my black kid gloves on the hall-stand, Mother showed me into to the downstairs bathroom to freshen up after the journey, and having closed the door behind us from prying eyes watched in attentive silence as I made my maidens water before enquiring with a cough as her eyes focussed on my nether regions - "Darling, - Umm- have they changed you down there?" - I shyly shook my head as I replied - "Not yet Mummy - but they might not even if I would like to." - "My! - and your knickers! - they are so divine!" - I blushed as I replied - " Umm. They are called French knickers Mummy, and are essential for my job!" - This remark unnerved her but she politely left me to my own devices! Mother was waiting outside as I quit the bathroom as she took me by the arm and escorted me into the lounge and over to one of the sofas while Rose curled up on the carpet at my feet and rested her head in Mother's lap as Mabel returned with a trolley to serve afternoon tea from real china cups and saucers and a silver teapot while Rose was sent off to fetch Father who made an unobtrusive appearance after about ten minutes. As we settled down to enjoy tea the questions began to pour forth thick and fast from my attentive audience. - 'Did I wear corsets and suspenders?' - 'What size ladies shoes did I wear?' - 'What were my friends like?' - 'Did I use bosom-pads?' - 'Who fixed my make-up?' - 'Did I shop for myself?' - 'Was my gorgeous hair all my own?' - and finally - 'Did I still wear mens' clothes?' - "No! - of course not - never!" - I replied in no uncertain terms! While we munched freshly baked scones, Mother explained what had happened since we had last met. "It has been very hard on your father, what with having to give up his job, having to deny the existence of his friends and relatives, sacrifice his only son for another daughter, and being ignored because of this pacifist label, that's the worst!" - "Apart from our own kind, conscientious objectors and the like, - nobody comes near- nor-by, and as for that newfangled telephone thingy, it only rings when that Colonel fellow calls us to tell us how you were getting along. Your Dad won't even answer it, and the girls don't know anyone who is on the phone to ring up anyway. We know it's not your fault but you can see what I mean. - If I ever see that placard 'Your Country Needs You' again, I will scream!" - "Although us girls have readily adapted to the situation since our former lifestyle bore no resemblance to the luxurious existence with the one we are enjoying today, thanks to my beautiful new daughter, who is such a charming addition to the fairer sex, I think you will soon be fighting off would - be suitors judging by her underwear!" - "Please Mummy, you cannot even think like that! - I am serving my King, Queen and country - this is not a silly game! - although it is an enjoyable one - regretfully I know it cannot last! - I am not built like that! - In truth though I wish it could go on forever!!" There was a gasp of surprise from all present in the lounge at my gaffe, - but there! - I had laid bare my soul and I was in no position to retract such a frank admission of my possible intentions to my nearest and dearest. - So instead I stretched out my lovely legs, gazed past the flounced cuffs of my blouse peeping beneath the sleeves of my bolero to my long, beautifully shaped nails as they rested lightly in my lap, and then beyond, down past my skirted knees, to my pretty ankles and tiny feet, encased in the black patent leather shoes, decorated with sweet petersham bows, while my nostrils were tantalisingly aware of the musky aroma of my 'Shalimar' perfume pervading the room. I lean't over and placed my hand around her shoulder as she snuffled quietly to herself - "There, there Mother, I know it's been hard - but the worst is over, - now its downhill all the way." And although I had put on a brave face I knew we still had a few hills to climb before we could resume our normal lives again. I then shifted uncomfortably, I hope you won't mind but I must go and spend a penny," and in a strangled voice my Father grunted - "And after the 'Queen of the fairies' has freshened 'her' fanny, 'she' can help Mother with the washing-up!" - while my fatty of a sister Mabel laughed at Father's sad jest. With that remark Rose jumped up, "I will show you where you will be sleeping Vicky," and we trotted up the broad staircase hand in hand, along one of the corridors and into a bedroom big enough to hold a dance where my case was laid open upon the bed, with all my clothes emptied out in an untidy pile on the counter-pain - as Rose's pink cheeks and embarrassed giggle gave her game away! "You naughty girl - treating my 'smalls' like that! - and you deserve a smack!" I grabbed my sister and we fell in an untidy heap upon the bed laughing and kissing as we often used to do in the past, as memories flooded back of my previous escapades with my sisters, with me dressed as a little girl, and playing like one of them, enjoying the freedom of singing and joining in their musical games, tucking my knickers in my dress and performing somersaults and playing my favourite games with our skipping-ropes out in the garden and down the road to the local park. Rose jumped up from the bed and ran over and flung open the wardrobe doors - "You have some lovely clothes Victoria, but not enough to last for your entire stay - so you will find some of my spare clothes available for you while you are here , - we are both the same size." - I quit the bed, rushing to her side to search through the contents and chose something of hers to try on and wear. "But firstly I must go to the bathroom after all that tea." Rose showed me over to the en-suite Victorian style bathroom and my sister and half-turned to leave. "Shall I go?" she tentatively asked and I grinned cheekily. - "Haven't you ever seen a girl make maiden's water before?" - She laughed with relief and stood admiring my French drawers as I hitched up my tight skirt and sat down for a tinkle. "I can't get over how natural you are Victoria. It's as though you have been my sister all our lives." I smiled up at her, - "Think back to when we were small, - who was it who played 'baby girl' in your games of 'house', even after I was 'breeched?" - and even later I was always being stripped by you and Mabel and arrayed in your frilliest 'knickknacks', then taken into the street to be paraded in front of my friends." - "no wonder I had a hard time at school, although I do now admit that despite my vocal protests, I enjoyed every minute of it. - That's the reason you find it so easy to accept me as your younger sister - you always did - so nothing's changed!" She was pleased at my explanation as I stood up and pulling the chain and having completed the chore of re-arranging my clothing, I remarked acidly - "What us girls have to put up with for the sake of fashion." I moaned grumpily and having washed my hands, we hurried downstairs to the tiled kitchen where mother was about to wash the tea-cups, so while Rose dried up for mother I put the sugar-bowl and scones away in the cupboard, and as I poured the milk back into the quart bottle and replaced the cardboard disk in the neck, putting the milk away in the cooler, I recalled my recent exploits as a double agent, not that I was at liberty to talk about that!