Contest and Consequence

by Sarah Bayen

  

Part Three

The Final

  

I sat sullenly as Nikki attended to my make up, and Anita, behind me, took the bunches out of my wig, and began brushing it through and through. My mind was full of the horror of having to go home and face my parents dressed as a girl. I found Nikki's suggestion that it would be slightly less embarrassing to do so in my schoolgirl outfit rather than a formal dress less than helpful.

There seemed no way out of the predicament; nowhere I could get hold of a set of boy's clothes in time. Then I remembered I had £40 stuffed in my bra that Sylvia had given me. Perhaps I would be able to get up to town after the final, and buy myself a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. The final was due to start at three; perhaps if it was over quickly enough, I'd be able to sneak out, and get up to town to the shops before they closed at five. It was my only possible escape.

I thought through the consequences. The money was really supposed to be for buying a long slip, and a pair of girl's shoes. Without those, Sylvia would declare that I was improperly dressed when I turned up for work with her on Saturday. I wondered whether there was enough money to be able to buy some boy's clothes, and get the rest of my uniform sorted out.

"How much does a long slip cost?" I asked suddenly.

Nikki carried out applying make up to me. Anita spoke from behind me. "It depends on what sort you want. Why?"

"Because I need to buy one for Saturday. I told you, unless you've got one you could lend me."

"No," she confessed. "I've not got many slips, and the ones that I have got are short. You've worn them all already."

"Don't look at me either," Nikki added, still attending to my eyes. "I can't stand them really, so I haven't got any."

"You were eager enough for me to wear one!" I pointed out crossly.

Nikki ignored me. "Well I suppose you could pick one up for about £10; maybe less," Anita said eventually.

I thought about this. "And what about girl's shoes? How much do they cost?"
"Well that's not easy to answer!" Nikki snorted. "It depends on the shoe."

"That's right," Anita agreed. "Some shoes can cost hundreds of pounds, others are a bit cheaper."

"I need a simple pair to work at the shop. That's what Sylvia said anyway."

There was a silence for a moment. "Well," Anita began eventually. "I suppose you could pick up a fairly smart pair for about £25 or so."

"Yes," agreed Nikki. "Although as you'll be on your feet most of the time you're working, you might want to pay a little more."

That was not the answer I had been hoping for. £25 for shoes, and £10 for a slip didn't leave me much change to buy a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I remembered that I had been wearing Nikki's boots and shoes for most of the week. Maybe she could help me out. I couldn't ask her for a moment though, as she was reapplying my lipstick.

Eventually she had finished. "I was wondering if you had a pair I could borrow?" I asked her.

She stood up and looked at me, with a worried look on her face. "Not really Steve," she said. "I mean, I've got my school shoes, which might do, but with the best will in the world, if you're going to be dressing up as a girl every week, you ought to start thinking about getting your own stuff."

"That's right," agreed Anita from behind me, now pulling my wig around to get it into some sort of style that would suit her. "Like I said, I'll do what I can to help, but you can't just keep borrowing my stuff. What I thought I might do is buy you some of your own. Anyway, didn't Lawrence say that Sylvia had given you some money to get that sort of thing?"

Lawrence had indeed let this slip. "Yes," I confessed, "but I was sort of hoping I'd be able to get some boy's stuff to go home in with that."

"You won't have enough," Anita pointed out, reinforcing the conclusion I'd already reached.

"No," agreed Nikki, "besides, the shops will be shut by the time the final ends."

The sands of hope were slipping from beneath my feet. "Surely it won't take two hours?" I asked, more in hope than expectation.

"It probably will," Nikki said. "I mean, there's the parade to start with, then the questions. After that the judges will need time to add up their marks and stuff."

"Then they'll make the announcements, and they'll be some sort of party I should think." Anita put in.

"Party?" I exclaimed.

"Well I don't know about a party, but there'll be some sort of ceremony, a dance or something." Anita went on.

"Yeah," agreed Nikki. "I heard Liz say that there was going to be some sort of disco for an hour or so."

"Well I could give that a miss," I suggested.

"Not if you're the winner you can't!" Anita scolded. "And I want you to be."

"I should think Lawrence is more likely to win than me," I muttered. "He's much prettier."

"I don't know about that," Anita said, putting her arms around my shoulders. "I think you're much prettier than him; and you've got a nicer bum!"

I thought about how my bum had looked in the longer skirt I had tried on that dinnertime. "Don't you think it's a bit big?" I muttered. They both stared at me in wonder for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Only a girl would say a thing like that!" exclaimed Nikki in delight. "Practice has certainly made you perfect!"

"Yes," agreed Anita, grinning. "Now come on, there's no need to worry your pretty little head about silly things like boy's clothes. Let's get your dress on ready for the final."

I glared at her. She might not think it was important that I managed to get home dressed as a boy, but I certainly did.

"And we mustn't forget these either!" Nikki announced, pulling a carrier bag out of her hold all. She handed it to me. I took a look in, and saw the stockings and suspender set she had bought for me, together with the matching knickers. I had forgotten about those. I looked around the room, now more or less full of contestants and helpers. The idea of casually slipping into stockings and suspenders in front of everyone there didn't really appeal to me. I thought about it for a moment. Maybe I could slip them on under my skirt. That way they would only be exposed when I switched from my skirt to the dress, and hopefully no one would notice particularly.

I sat down on the bench, and took of my boots. Then, carefully, I wiggled myself out of my tights and knickers, and slid them down my legs trying not to let my skirt lift at all. Glancing around, it seemed as if no one had noticed.

Nikki had moved over to help Tania with Lawrence's make up. Anita was standing beside me, watching my manoeuvres with interest. "You're very good at this, Steve," she told me. "Very good indeed."

"I should think I am," I retorted sharply, "I've had to do it often enough."

She nodded to concede the point. The contestant I remembered as being Cindy Doll came in at this point. He, lucky soul that he was, had managed to change back into jeans and a T-shirt, and was laughing and joking with his three helpers. They found an empty space and he started undressing, pleasing his helpers even more.

I took the knickers out of the bag, and stepped gingerly into them. Turning my face to the wall, to avoid undue accidents, I slipped them up under my skirt, and fumbled around to make sure they were in place.

"You won't be able to do that with the suspender belt." Anita observed, having watched my antics. "You might as well take the skirt off; it'll be much easier."

I grimaced. Taking my skirt off would reveal to the whole room that I had allowed myself to get talked into wearing stockings and suspenders, as opposed to tights, or even going bare legged. I looked around the room. I counted eight contestants in there, and three had already got their dresses on. The rest were having make up applied, or wigs brushed through. Nobody seemed to be wearing stockings except for Lawrence and me. I looked at him. He was now standing, and pulling his sheer stockings up his legs. No one was paying him any attention, other than Tania and Nikki, who stood by admiringly.

That made up my mind. If Lawrence could do it, so could I. I undid my skirt, and took it off. Anita gathered it together, and put it back in her bag. Looking in the carrier bag Nikki had given me, I found the suspender belt, and with some trepidation, stepped into it, pulling it up to my waist.

"Oh look at that!" I heard someone shout. I turned around. It was one of Cindy Doll's helpers. "They're making him wear stockings and suspenders. That's really good!" Cindy Doll's other helpers turned around to look, and I blushed profusely. There was a range of coos and giggles from around the room. Why did it happen to me and not to Lawrence?

I sat down to put the stockings on, while Anita stood protectively in front of me. I had finished one, and was half way through the other, when the door opened again, and in walked Chrissie, Janet and Jacquie, leading an already dressed Peter through the door. He looked breathtaking in a long white off the shoulder dress with blue flowers around the skirt. His shoulder length hair had been tied back into an elaborate style at the back, and his face looked miserable.

Chrissie looked in our direction, and looked startled to see Anita and I there.

"Surprised to see us?" Anita asked sarcastically.

Chrissie seemed lost for words for a moment. Refusing to reply, she moved her crowd over to a vacant space on the far wall. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had not been looking forward to any confrontation between her and Anita. That relief was short lived however. Anita, with a look of fixed determination on her face, had folded her arms in front of herself, and was walking over towards the new arrivals. Nikki and Tania quickly joined her, and they advanced across the room.

"What's your problem Robinson?" Chrissie sneered as they neared her.

"I was wondering if I could borrow a black felt tip marker." Anita asked, speaking slowly and deliberately.

Chrissie, sitting, stared at her with contempt. "And why would I have a black felt tip marker Robinson? It's not the sort of thing I'd normally carry around with me you know."

Janet and Jacquie laughed at this. The rest of the room had gone silent, in rapt attention to the confrontation going on.

"Because you're a sleazy little tart, and sleazy little tarts always have black felt tip markers." Anita responded, with a nasty sneer on her face.

"That's right," added Nikki.

Lawrence came across to me, and grabbed my shoulder, making me jump. There was an anxious look on his face. The six girls eyeballed each other on the opposite side of the room, and the room tingled with the tension of the moment.

"So I'm a tart am I?" Chrissie asked, standing at last. Her two companions moved closer to her. The three of them were noticeably taller and larger than Anita or Tania. Only Nikki didn't seem dwarfed by the three of them.

"Oh God this is awful!" Lawrence whispered to me, gripping my arm even tighter.

"Yes you are a tart," Anita responded, still with the sneer on her face. Chrissie moved even closer. I pulled my arm free from Lawrence and rushed across the room.

"Stop it!" I shouted, trying to get between them. There was hardly room for me, as Chrissie had moved to within inches of Anita. I glared in defiance at Chrissie, and then slipped between her and Anita, and gently pushed Anita backwards. "It's not worth it. Let's just get on with the show."

Anita's eyes burned with fury, and she kept trying to look around me to glare at her enemy. I continued my gentle pushing. "Come on Anita. I need your help to get my dress on," I said pleadingly.

"I'll get you for this!" Anita spat around me, fire seeming to come from her eyes at Chrissie behind me.

"Oh will you?" she sneered. "I'll look forward to that then. Perhaps you won't get saved by your little bit of skirt next time!" Janet and Jacquie laughed evilly again. I felt my own anger rise within me at this jibe; little bit of skirt indeed, who did she think she was. I turned to face her, thinking of what I might say to hurt her as much as she had hurt me. To my surprise Peter had stood up, and was standing next to her, tugging at her arm.

"Please Chrissie," I heard him whisper to her, as she glared at me across the room. "Let's just sit down and wait for the final shall we?"

Chrissie continued to glare provocatively at me for a few moments, and then almost imperceptibly nodded, and turned to resume her seat.

"Looks like you've been saved by your own little bit of skirt now!" Cindy Doll observed. The whole room erupted into laughter, at the electric tension that had been so evident suddenly vanished. Smiling, I turned back to Anita, and led her gently back to our places. With seeming reluctance, Nikki and Tania also returned to our side of the room.

I was surprised to find myself shaking a little. I sat myself down on the bench to catch my breath. Looking down at myself I suddenly realised that I had done my little rescue act with one stocking up, and the other around my ankle. I must have looked ridiculous.

Anita was steaming by the side of me, still glaring across the room at Chrissie and her gang, and pointedly silent. Nikki and Tania had at least put the incident behind them. They were helping Lawrence into his new dress, and commenting on how lucky they were to find one that was almost identical. I pulled the stocking up to my thigh, and stood to fasten the suspenders to it.

The door opened again, and in walked the final contestant, Sally Jones. His long jet-black hair streamed down his back, and he was wearing a full-length red dress with bat sleeves, and a plunging neckline. I was amazed at how realistic his cleavage seemed. There was a definite shadow between the globes of his breasts, which swung as he walked. I felt a strange pang of jealously for a moment, and wondered how his helpers had achieved the look. I looked at them, and got another shock. One of them was Joanne Thompson, whom I knew quite well. She was the leader of the school Christian Union, and spent most of her time leading prayer meetings, and making collections for various church missions around the school. She came from a bible bashing family, and it seemed strange to me that she would have involved herself in the contest.

Still, it takes all sorts, I thought to myself. I needed to put my dress on, but it was behind Anita in its bag on a hook. She would have to move before I could get access to it. I looked cautiously at her. She was still trembling with rage, and glaring pointedly across the room. Holding my breath, I put my hand on her knee. "Are you all right Anita?" I asked.

She pushed my hand away, and didn't reply.

"I'm sorry I stopped you," I went on quietly. "I just thought that if there was a fight or something, we might get disqualified."

She thought about this for a while. "I suppose we might have done," she conceded. "But I'm still going to get that cow!" she said, more loudly, causing a few heads to turn our way.

I despaired that I would ever be able to get her to calm down. "We'll get her by winning the contest," I said at length, in a conciliatory tone. "That's the best way of doing it."

"You told me you thought Lawrence was going to win," she snapped, accusingly.

I thought about this for a second. "Well, that would be almost as good wouldn't it? Especially as it was his dress she ruined."

She stared at me for a few moments, and then her face broke into a smile. "Yes it would!" she declared. "It would be brilliant." To my surprise, she suddenly hugged me. "But I'm not giving up on you yet," she continued as we separated. Come on, we need to get you finished!"

I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and stood up. "You'll have to move though," I told her. "You're leaning on my dress."

She stood up, and took the bag off the hanger, and began to undo it. I smiled to myself that the pressure had been released.

The door opened again, and I turned to see who was coming in this time. It was the judges, with Liz in the lead. With them was a woman I did not recognise. She was short, dressed sharply in a trouser suit, with straight brown hair hanging down to her neck.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed as we walked in. "What a bevy of beauties!"

The four of them gathered in a line by the door. "Now listen up people!" Miss Underwood shouted, clapping her hands to get our attention. "You've got ten minutes before we start."

There were a few calls of dismay around the room, generally along the lines that more time was needed.

"No, we've got to start on time guys!" Miss Underwood went on. "When we're ready, I'll come and get you all for the first parade. You'll all be going out onto the stage together. After that, you can all come in here, and then we'll call you out one by one for the question and answer session."

Miss Williams, older and sterner looking than her fellow teacher, took a step forward. "And I'd like to introduce you all to Jenny Carpenter, from the Express. She's here covering the festival, and she's decided to have a look in at the contest."

"Hi everyone," Jenny Carpenter said, smiling at us all. "Especially to the ladies present. I'm sorry I wasn't here for the first round, but at least I'm here now. I've asked a photographer to come along, but I'm not sure when they'll get here."

I felt myself jolt at this news; a photographer! I wasn't at all sure that I wanted this moment to be captured for posterity in quite that way. Jenny was looking around the room at us all, one by one. Her eyes met mine, and then fell to my legs. I suddenly remembered that I was standing there in stockings and suspenders, and, in a futile gesture, I tried to pull down my school jumper to cover myself a little.

She looked up and smiled at me. "Very nice!" she said.

I blushed yet again, and saw Liz at the side of her staring at me as well. Her face was frozen in a strange expression somewhere between shock and amazement. Oh God, I thought to myself. She's never going to talk to me again, now she's seen that I've allowed myself to be put into stockings and suspenders.

"Right, now is everyone clear about what's going on?" Miss Underwood asked. There was a general murmur of agreement, and people began returning to the various tasks of getting the contestants ready. "Good, well I'll see you all in ten minutes then."

The four of them trouped out of the door together. Jenny Carpenter turned at the last minute and smiled. "Good luck everyone!" she said, cheerily, and then left.

"Gosh Steve, we'd best get a move on!" Anita urged me, taking the dress out of its wrapper. I took my jumper off while she did. She cast a sideways glance across the room at Chrissie. I followed her eyes. Chrissie was watching intently as the dress came out, and I could see from her face that she realised what her mistake had been.

I stepped into my dress, and Anita did it up for me, fussing around the back to do up the tie, and to make sure it was hanging straight. She replaced my rather plain earrings with a longer, dangly pair, and continued to fuss with my hair. I stepped into the shoes Nikki had lent me, and I knew that I was more or less complete.

I sat myself down, and looked around the room. Most contestants were still having various extra things done to them here and there. Janet was applying even more cosmetics to the already immaculately made up Peter. It occurred to me that having Janet do that was a strange choice. Judging by how she normally looked, she was hardly an expert.

Sally Jones sat motionless, staring glumly at the rest of us in what appeared to be pity. He had the look of someone who knew he was going to win, regardless of what the rest of us might do. I thought about how disappointed Anita was going to be when neither Lawrence or I walked off with the crown. Well, as long as Peter didn't win, she would have some consolation.

Joanne sat on one side of him, with another girl I did not know, but recognised as another from the bible thumping set on the other. Why had the Christian Union decided to enter someone for a contest like this? It seemed strange to me, but I shrugged my shoulders. The strangest thing about it was that it seemed to me likely that their candidate would win. I couldn't see how God or Jesus was likely to benefit from that, but there again, Joanne's motivations were always beyond my comprehension.

Slowly but surely things began to calm down. One after another of the contestants were declared ready by their helpers, or as ready as they would ever be. We sat there in silence, ten boys dressed in all manner of posh frocks and fancy dresses, all made up, some well, some badly, and all looking anxious about what was about to happen.

"How are you feeling?" Anita asked me, bringing me out of my reverie. "Ready for the big event? Feeling confident?"

I smiled at her. "I don't know about that, but I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Thanks for this Steve," she said, smiling at me. "I know I've said it before, but I'm really grateful you agreed to do this for me."

My heart skipped a beat. "It's all right," I said. "It hasn't been all that bad."

She smiled again. "Do you know, I think you've even enjoyed some bits of it?"

I blushed and turned away. "Monday was good," I said. "Especially in the cinema."

"Yes, I enjoyed that too," she said, taking my hand. Suddenly the whole thing seemed worthwhile; the dress rehearsal, the sleepover, the tennis match, all of it. My dreams came crashing down however, when I remembered that she was off out with John immediately the contest was over.

"Why so glum?" she asked me, squeezing my hand gently.

"Nothing," I replied, while abject despair gripped me.

She was going to probe further to find the reason for my sudden downturn in mood, but was thwarted by the sudden appearance of Miss Underwood at the door.

"Okay guys it's time!" she declared. "I want all the contestants over here by the door in a line. Come on, right now, the audience is waiting."

I stood to do as we had been asked. Anita stood with me, and took both of my hands, and smiled intently at me. "Best of luck!" she said, with joy in her voice, and kissed me on the lips with a sudden pounce. My heart soared again. My life was becoming a roller coaster.

I moved over to the door to join the growing line. In front of me was Miss Ogynist, smaller than I was, and looking as scared as a rabbit. Peter quickly joined behind me, and I turned to look at him. He smiled nervously at me.

"I'm glad we managed to stop them fighting," he whispered to me.

I nodded. "For now anyway."

He nodded back. "What are they like, squaring up like that? They're worse than boys!"

"I know." I said.

Miss Underwood came down the line to count, and was quickly satisfied that all ten of us were there. She walked back to the front. "All right then ladies, I'll escort you up to the stage."

She opened the door and went through, followed by the contestants. Even before I reached the door, I heard the huge roar of approval from the crowd, and an explosion of applause. It sounded like there were even more people in there than had bothered to turn up for the first round.

This was confirmed as soon as I reached the door. The small figure of Miss Ogynist turned right in front of me, and I saw the masses, all eyes turned towards us. There was music blaring out of the PA system as well, to add to the atmosphere. It was only then that I recognised the tune as an obscure song I had heard maybe only once before, "Treat him like a lady." How droll, I thought to myself, at least it wasn't Shania Twain.

We marched up the narrow gap between the nearest seats and the wall towards the stage. I saw in front of me Miss Underwood and the first contestant reaching the steps. The noise from the music and the crowd was deafening, but I remembered to smile as Anita had constantly told me. Looking in front of me, Miss Underwood and the first two contestants were already on the stage. Behind them Cindy Doll was having trouble climbing; obviously he had not been given the chance to practice in a long dress as much as I had. When I reached the stairs, I carefully lifted the dress in front of me to give my legs room to move. Taking elegant little steps, I managed the small flight without difficulty. Having seen Cindy take such a stumble, I was grateful that Nikki and Anita had had the forethought to teach me how to wear stuff like this.

Then I was on the stage. The audience ranged out in front of us all on their seats, clapping and wolf whistling. I felt nervous suddenly, but remembered again that the smile was all-important.

Liz ushered all into a line. She winked at me, and smiled cheekily, which made me colour up a little. Soon we were all on stage, all ten of us. Lawrence was down the other end of the line from me. I was fourth, between Peter and Sally Jones, who tossed her long black hair imperiously, hitting me in the face with it more than once. I glared at him, but he paid me no heed.

The record stopped, and Liz, satisfied that we were in a decent line, moved to the front, where a microphone had been set up. "Good afternoon," she announced. The crowd echoed this, and began to calm down. "Welcome to the final of the Womanless Beauty Contest; and these," she said, motioning to us, "are our lovely finalists!"

There was another roar of approval from the crowd. Cindy Doll waved and blew kisses to his fans; I smiled even more widely. The crowd probably thought I was having some kind of seizure as I felt my jaws begin to ache.

The two contestants on either side of me both looked miserable, Peter looking unnaturally thin in his lovely white dress, and Sally staring out at the audience with what looked like contempt. This worried me for a moment, but in the end I put it down to nerves, and resumed my manic smile.

The crowd took some time to come back to silence, but did so eventually. Liz continued her speech. "We're going to ask these lovely ladies to parade for you in a minute; would you like that?"

The crowd bayed its approval at the idea, a sound only modified by a wail of feedback from Liz's microphone. "Well it sounds as if you would," she continued. "Right, well let's have them one at a time. First, our own lovely little Miss Ogynist!"

She signalled the smallest of us to come forward, which he did. He got to the front of the stage, looking a little unsteady on his feet. Again I thought how lucky I had been to have got some practice in wearing heels. He did a rather hasty little curtsey at the front of the stage, and then scuttled back to his place in the line.

Miss Feminine Side was called forward next, then Felicity Feelgood. Both received rapturous applause from the audience. After them, Lawrence was called forward. He cast a nervous look along the line at me before stepping up to the front. The crowd went wild, with whistles and cheers deafening us all. He looked absolutely gorgeous in the frock we had got from Sylvia's shop. I felt then that it was certain he was going to be the winner, and I was proud for him.

Wendy Lostboy and Miss Teak were called next. They were less well received, but still obtained a few laughs from their friends out in front. Peter came next, and walked forward, still looking miserable.

"Cheer up darling, it may never happen!" someone from the audience shouted, to much hilarity. Chrissie seemed to have orchestrated a fair number of her friends to give particularly loud cheers to their candidate however, and there were a number of wolf whistles to accompany his approach.

"Next the gorgeous Miss Sarah Sweetheart!" I heard Liz say. She turned around, and motioned me forward. My legs would hardly move, but I breathed deeply, and ventured one step, and then another. Nice small steps, I warned myself, and remember to smile!

It seemed an eternity before I got to the front of the stage, but then suddenly I was there. The crowd cheered and clapped, while I smiled, and waved daintily. I looked around the sea of faces for a sight of anyone familiar. I could not find Anita or Nikki there, but across to one side, there was Chrissie, arms folded and scowling at me. I turned my eyes from her as quickly as I could. I looked along the front row, and in the middle saw the dark brown eyes of Jenny Carpenter, the journalist. She was applauding enthusiastically, and as my eyes met hers, she winked at me.

I felt a touch on my arm. It was Liz signalling me that my time was up. Turning gracefully, I made my way back to the line, swaying my hips surreptitiously. I felt rather pleased with my performance. At least Anita wouldn't be able to say that I hadn't tried.

As I reached my place, I saw that Sally Jones was glaring at me with venom in his eyes. This contest had certainly stirred up some competitive feelings, I thought to myself.

"And next, the adorable Miss Sally Jones!" I heard Liz say through the PA system. Sally pushed past me to make a rapid approach to the front of the stage. He was already there by the time I took my place in the line, and turned around to face the front.

The crowd's applause was a little muted. It didn't seem that Sally had his own fan club out there. Suddenly, he grabbed hold of the microphone off its stand. There was another squeal of feedback, and then I heard him shouting.

"This is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord!" he screamed. The crowd fell silent. "God made us male and female, and we should be proud of who we are!"

"Oh shut your gob!" I heard someone heckle.

"When the male wears the clothes of the female, it's the work of the devil!" he continued, unabashed. Liz, standing beside him, looked for once a little non-plused. She hesitantly moved towards him to take the microphone away, but he snatched it out of her grasp.

"This is a load of bollocks," I heard someone in our line say. It was Cindy Doll. Walking forward, like a navvy, he came up behind Sally, motioning with his fingers for the audience to be silent. There was a ripple of laughter around the hall, but Sally continued on with her rant regardless. "We need to stop this now, before the devil comes into each and every one of us!"

The laughter became louder, and obviously Sally Jones, who ever he was, could not quite see how his words were achieving this effect. Behind him, Cindy Doll, in one swift movement, undid the zip on the back of Sally's dress, and pulled it off his shoulders.

The laughter immediately stopped, and there was a chorus of gasps from around the hall. "It's a woman!" someone shouted. There was then a volley of boos, and shouts of "Get off!" from the crowd.

Sally turned around to confront her assailant, and I could see at once that she was indeed a woman. Her dress had fallen to her waist, revealing exactly why her boobs had looked so realistic. The venom in her eyes flared as she snarled at the hapless Cindy Doll, who backed away slowly. Sally began to move forward, but was intercepted by Liz, who held her firmly as she struggled to get free.

"I, I'm sorry," I heard Cindy stutter, "I didn't realise…." The rest of his words were lost in the shouts of the crowd. Two of Liz's friends from the sixth form rushed onto the stage, and took over control of the writhing Sally, who was led, still struggling and shouting from the stage.

There was an eerie silence for a moment, then a slow and increasing volley of applause from the audience, which took some time to calm down. Cindy came back to our line, shaking his head, and looking white. He was obviously as surprised as us that one of the contestants had been a woman in disguise.

Liz eventually managed to calm the audience into silence. "Thank you," she said. "I'm sorry for that little interruption." She stopped for a moment, as the muttering continued around the hall. "Much as I hesitate to upset God on a day like this," she went on, causing a peel of laugher, "I suggest we get on with the show!"

There was a resounding cheer in response to this, which took some time to die away. "Now, allow me to introduce the last of our," she paused for a second, "nine remaining finalists. Miss Cindy Doll!"

Still shaken, the hero of the hour stepped forward, shoulders hunched, and apologising. The crowd were sympathetic however, cheering him, and clapping generously. He waved a few times in acknowledgement, and then came back to join us.

"Thank you," Liz said, once the audience had calmed down a little. "We'll now ask the girls to walk off stage one by one, and in a few minutes we'll be inviting them back up here to answer a few questions for us. Now give it up one more time for Miss Ogynist!"

One by one we walked off the stage, and back to the changing room. Miss Teak tripped over his dress on the stairs, which caused considerable amusement for the crowd, but no doubt lost him marks for deportment. Still smiling until it made my mouth ache, I walked across the stage in my turn. Liz caught my eye, and smiling, winked at me again. Reaching the steps, I held my skirt up again, and, turning my feet sideways, walked down them as elegantly as I could manage. Remembering not to rush, to take small ladylike steps instead, I walked back down the side of the hall to the changing room door.

Once through the door, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, leaning back against it. Anita rushed over to me and hugged me. "You were brilliant!" she said. "You were the only one smiling all the time, it was fantastic!"

I opened my eyes to look at her. She had a look of genuine delight on her face. "Well done Sarah!" I heard Nikki say. "You managed those steps fantastically. I don't think I would have done it so well in a long heavy dress like that."

I glanced to the opposite corner, where Chrissie and Peter were sitting. She was giving him some sort of stern lecture on some aspect of his performance, while he sat looking glumly at the floor.

Anita saw where I was looking. "You wiped the floor with him!" she said, gleefully. "He looked so miserable about the whole thing, he doesn't stand a chance of winning, posh wig or not!"

We walked back over to our space on the far wall. "You were fantastic Steve!" Lawrence exclaimed as we got there. He stood up, and came and hugged me, which made me back away a little. He didn't seem to notice my reluctance to join in his girlish show of affection however. "The crowd loved you!"

"They seemed quite keen on you as well," I told him, smiling amiably. "I have to sit down though." I sat myself down on the bench to catch my breath. The whole room was a hubbub of excitement and conversation.

"I really didn't know she was a girl!" Cindy was saying to his helpers. "I'd never have flashed her boobs like that if I had."

"It's all right," one of the helpers reassured him. "She deserved it anyway, going on like that."

"Who was she anyway?" Miss Teak asked.

"I don't know," Cindy's helper replied. "Someone said she was from another school; a friend of one of the God squad or something."

"It's come to something though," Cindy's other helper said. "when a girl gatecrashes a Womanless Beauty contest to prove a point!"

"Yeah," the first helper agreed.

All of the contestants seemed to be taking a breather for a moment; all except Peter that is, who was having even more make up applied. Nikki saw this. "We'd best freshen up you and Lawrence in a minute." she said. "It was probably a bit hot up on that stage."

"Yes, and we were nervous!" put in Lawrence, grinning at me.

"Come on then Sarah," Nikki said. "We'd best sort you out. We don't know what order they'll be calling you up for the interviews."

She got out her make up bag, and began to work on my face again. I had to tilt my head up, and then down, open and close my eyes, while she applied and reapplied all sorts of things to my face. Absentmindedly, I put my hands to my neck, and felt my necklace; it was still there, I was still telling the world my name was Sarah.

Nikki took a little brush, full of blusher, and flushed it around in my cleavage, much to my chagrin. I pulled a face at her, and she smiled back at me. "If you've got it, flaunt it," she advised me, laughing.

She then turned her attentions to Lawrence, and I was left free to relax. I looked around for Anita, but couldn't see her. Perhaps she had gone off to the loo or something. Suddenly I realised she hadn't; there were raised voices across the room. I looked over and saw Anita standing face to face with Chrissie again. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but judging by the looks of anger and contempt on their faces, I could guess that it wasn't all that friendly. Peter stood by the side of them, looking worried, while Janet and Jacquie, arms folded, smiled as they looked on.

"Looks like trouble again," I muttered, standing to go and try to intervene. Tania accompanied me across the room a few paces behind. When I got across there, Anita was poking Chrissie in the chest.

"Looks like you're going to lose this one, slag!" She said, her finger beating out the rhythm of each syllable on Chrissie's sternum.

"It's not over until the fat lady sings," Chrissie responded. "And I can't hear you singing Robinson!" Janet and Jacquie laughed hollowly.

I noticed the pale Peter sit himself down rather suddenly. Because of this, I missed Anita lunging at Chrissie, grabbing hold of her hair. Within a second, the two girls became a single mass of flaying arms and legs as they wrestled each other. Tania made a move forward, but Janet moved swiftly across to stand tall in her way.

They separated for a moment, and a tuft of blonde hair fell slowly to the ground from Anita's fingers.

Chrissie's breathing was fast. "Look like your little ladyboy's come to save you again," she sneered, glancing momentarily at me.

"It looks as if yours is sick," Anita retorted. "Probably from having to be near you!"

I looked past them to the bench where Peter had sat down. He did indeed look sick; even whiter than usual, and seemingly struggling for breath. The two girls clashed again, with a series of grunts and snarls.

"Stop it!" I shouted. "He really is sick!"

They stood there, arms interlocked and glaring into each other's faces with teeth bared. Pushing past them, I knelt down next to Peter.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"I need my inhaler," he gasped. "It's my asthma."

"Where is it?" I asked him.

"In my coat," he managed to say, breathing between each word.

"And where's that?"

"Don't know. They took all my stuff. In case I tried to get away."

His face was drawn and anxious, and his breaths were short and rushed. I stood up.

"One of you go and get his coat," I snapped at Janet and Jacquie. They stared dumbly back at me. "Go on! He's going to pass out unless you do."

Unused to taking orders from anyone except Chrissie, they hesitated for a moment.

"Do as he says," Chrissie said. She had separated from her entanglement with Anita, and was standing beside me, looking worriedly down at Peter. "Is he all right?"

"Of course he's not all right," I snapped at her. "You've set off his asthma with your bloody fighting!" I glared into her face, which was beginning to show genuine concern. "You ought to be ashamed of yourselves; both of you!" I added, turning to Anita.

"It's not my fault!" she exclaimed.

"It's both your faults!" I snapped again. "Now come on, we need to loosen his clothing a bit so he can breath more easily."

I looked back to Peter. There wasn't much clothing that could be loosened, if the truth was to be told, not visible clothing anyway. His dress hung loose across his chest.

"I need," he gasped, "to undo my bra for a bit."

I nodded. "Come on Chrissie," I commanded. "Help me get his bra off."

She hesitated for a moment, then knelt down with me, and pulled the spaghetti straps of his dress down from his shoulders. I was shocked at what this revealed. I had been expecting he'd be wearing some sort of bra like mine, but somehow without the shoulder straps. Instead he had on some sort of corset that covered him from his chest down to below where we had taken the dress off him.

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's a basque," Chrissie muttered apologetically. "It's to give him a better waist."

"Well it'll have to come off," I demanded. "It's stopping him breathing."

Chrissie thought about this for a moment. "All right," she said, sitting down next to him. "Lean forward Veronica," she said to him, almost gently.

I stared at the back of him in amazement. No wonder he couldn't breathe! The basque was held in place by about twenty little eyelets, stretching the elastic of the thing really tight to constrict his movement. Chrissie began fumbling with the top ones to undo them.

"Why in God's name did you make him wear that?" I demanded of her. "No wonder he can't breathe."

"It gives him a better figure," she mumbled.

She had undone about six or seven of the eyelets when Janet returned, carrying a coat. I snatched it off her. "Where's your inhaler Peter?" I asked him.

He struggled to get enough breath to answer. "Inside pocket," he gasped at last.

I felt around in the inside pocket, and found the thing. Quickly, I handed it to him, and sitting up, he placed it in his mouth and squirted it down his throat. Chrissie stopped her undoing, with his basque flapping rather oddly, half undone.

"Is he going to be all right?" she asked.

"I expect so," I replied. "No thanks to you though!"

"It's not my fault!" she replied. "It was your tart there that started it."

"I don't care who started it," I said firmly. "I want it to stop!"

They both stared blankly at me. "Come on," I went on. "I want you to shake hands and call a truce."

The two girls stared at me, and then each other. "I'm not shaking her hand, I'll catch something," Anita said.

"The only thing you could catch from me is style and cool!" Chrissie responded.

"Stop it!" I screamed, stamping my foot in frustration. "Your fighting could have killed him just then, so you've got to stop it now!"

They both looked shamefaced for a moment, and even managed to look at each other without snarling.

"I'm feeling better now," Peter said, and indeed, the deathly white had gone from his face, and his breathing seemed to be easier.

"Will you be able to go on with the contest?" Chrissie asked him. "Without fainting or anything?"

"Yes, " he replied. "But I think I'd be better off wearing the bra from this morning rather than this." He indicated the flapping basque.

Chrissie frowned. The basque was obviously an integral part of her plan for winning the contest, but as the cogs of her mind turned. "But it's holding your stockings up." she said testily.

There was a silence for a moment as Peter looked pleadingly at her.

"Well can't he have a suspender belt?" I suggested.

Chrissie turned to me. "And what do you know about it?" she snapped.

"Quite a lot actually," I responded, not thinking the consequences through. Chrissie looked at me curiously for a moment.

After a pause, the normally reticent Janet suddenly spoke. "He could have the one I bought him. Do you remember? I got him a load of stuff at the weekend, and you said it was rubbish." Chrissie glared at her, but she continued. "I brought it with me, just in case. Hang on, I'll find it." She went over to a bag hanging on one of the hooks, and produced a large plastic bag. Rummaging around in it, she pulled out a black suspender belt. "Here, he could have this!"

Chrissie still didn't respond, but I could see that she was thinking this through. Eventually she saw that having a Peter with a slightly larger waist might be more likely to give her the win she so desperately wanted than a Peter liable to collapse.

"All right," she said eventually. "We'll have that and the bra. You get it on him Janet," she ordered.

She stood up, and turned back to Anita, and me but didn't say anything.

"Now what about this truce?" I demanded of both of them. "Come on, let's just get on with the contest shall we, and stop all this silly fighting stuff?"

They both grimaced. Eventually Anita said. "Well it's all right by me I suppose."

Chrissie looked at her. "And me," she said eventually.

"Good," I said, "Now shake hands!"

Reluctantly, both girls lifted their arms, and moved them together. They made a cursory handshake, and then withdrew their arms back again.

"That wasn't so difficult was it?" I said. "Now, let's get on with the contest, and may the best girl win!"

"Do you mean between me and Chrissie, or between you and Peter?" Anita asked pointedly.

I shrugged. "Either or both," I said.

Chrissie nodded almost imperceptibly, and sat down next to Peter again, and began to remove his basque even further. I took hold of Anita's arm, and led her back across the room.

Cindy Doll was grinning at me as we walked past. "All that testosterone!" he declared. "No wonder its us boys in here wearing the dresses!"

We sat back down on our part of the bench. "Well done!" Lawrence whispered to me. Anita was sullenly silent for quite a while. Eventually she blurted. "We picked the wrong name for you!" glaring accusingly at me.

I stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"We should have called you Miss Prim and Proper; or Miss Goody Two Shoes not Sarah!" she continued sarcastically.

My mouth fell open in shock at this attack.

"Or even better, Miss Pokes Her Nose into Places she's not Welcome!"

She folded her arms in front of herself, and pointedly didn't look at me. I felt stung by this; I had stopped her from a pointless fight, which as well as the embarrassment factor for her, could well have ended with her getting hurt. I felt my eyes begin to moisten, and my bottom lip to quiver.

"That's a bit unfair Anita," Nikki said, coming to my defence. "He was only making sure Peter's asthma attack didn't get worse!"

Anita still looked angry. "Well it would have been good if it did!" she declared. "Then he wouldn't have been able to do the interview, and we'd have stood a better chance of winning!"

"Anita!" admonished Nikki. "That's totally out of order. "I mean, I'm your friend, but you can't wish people to get ill just to win a contest like this!"

"Don't you take her side!" Anita snapped.

"I'm not taking anyone's side," Nikki went on. "But personally I think Sarah did the right thing!"

Anita folded her arms even tighter, and stared down at the floor. Nikki put her hand reassuringly on my shoulder for a moment, as a tear trickled down my face.

"You're right," Anita said after a considerable pause, looking at me with remorse in her eyes. "Both of you. I'm sorry." She turned to face me, and hugged me. "I'm so sorry Sarah, especially upsetting you when you've got to go on stage and be interviewed in a minute." We stayed clasped together for quite a few moments, and I felt the softness of Anita's hair, and the smell of her perfume. My anger dissipated almost at once.

Eventually we separated, and looked into each other's eyes, smiling. Anita shook her head. "You're so much more feisty since we made you into Sarah," she told me. "You used to just agree with everything I said, I've created a monster!"

I could do nothing but smile in return.

"I don't know about a monster," Nikki put in. "More of an angel. Anyway, let's have a look at you. I thought so, I need to touch up your make up a bit. Good job we were using waterproof mascara though."

Anita let go of me, and Nikki started work at repairing the damage done to my make up. Half way through this, the door opened, and Miss Underwood walked through, carrying a large speaker.

"Okay now listen up guys!" she shouted. The room fell into silence. "Is everyone okay here?"

I glanced across the room. Peter was having his stockings reattached to the suspender belt Janet had given him. His dress had been lifted up to his waist, and around the gap created was a cascade of lace and frills. He must have had at least two long petticoats on. I shook my head to myself; to think that I had been embarrassed about what I'd been made to wear.

Miss Underwood seemed satisfied that there had been no major incidents worthy of her attention. She continued. "Okay, this is how it's going to be. We're going to call you through for interview one at a time. Liz will be asking the questions. Now the thing is, to make it fair, we're going to be asking you all the same questions, and we don't want those going last to have an unfair advantage. So what we're going to do is have this speaker here," she indicated the large speaker that she had placed on the floor beside her, "playing out music for you. That way, unless you cheat, none of you will be able to hear any of the questions."

She looked around the room to check whether we had understood. "And I'll be standing guard here at the door to make sure no one tries to get back in once you've gone out. And that applies to helpers as well as contestants. Is everyone clear about that?"

There was a murmur of agreement from around the room. It seemed a bit elaborate to me, but I could see that it was broadly fair.

"Okay, we'll be going in the same order as before, so I'll call in," she looked down at a clipboard she was carrying. "Miss Ogynist in a minute. Right, I'll switch the music on now."

She bent down, and flipped a switch on the side of the speaker. Immediately loud music filled the room; loud enough to make conversation virtually impossible. Anita held my hand on one side, and Nikki on the other, as we sat and waited.

An age seemed to pass. My heart began to beat faster, and I could feel the palms of my hands getting sweaty, as Anita and Nikki occasionally stroked them, and smiled at me in the midst of the cacophony of noise.

At length the door opened, and Miss Underwood stuck her head through, holding up an improvised sign, with Miss Ogynist written on it in capitals with a felt tip. The small boy stood nervously, and walked, steadied by his helpers, to the door. They walked through, and the door shut behind them, with no respite for our ears as the music continued to blare.

This process was repeated twice more, for Miss Feminine Side, and Miss Felicity Feelgood. As I saw this last name appear on the improvised sign, I wondered about my own name. Anita and Nikki had resisted the urge to give me a comedic label, although the Sweetheart bit was a little contrived. I wondered what people would think about that; me being a Sarah instead of an Ogynist, or a Feminine Side? Still, Lawrence's new name was even more ordinary; Lucy Lawrence; there wasn't even a hint that it was a joke.

Suddenly my musings were interrupted by the door opening again, and Miss Underwood standing there with the name "Lucy Lawrence on her sign. He looked nervously at me, and in a sudden impulse I hugged him, before he stood, and, taking Tania's arm, walked to the door.

The strange noisy and conversation less interlude returned. It seemed to me that Lawrence's ordeal was taking longer than some of the others. I wondered if there had been some sort of hitch, or whether he was replying for some reason at immense length to whatever questions were being fired at him.

Suddenly the door opened again, and the sign this time said "Wendy Lostboy." Another contestant and his helpers stood up, and walked towards the door. After a few minutes, the door opened again to summon Miss Teak. There were just three groups left in the changing rooms by now; me sitting in one corner, with Anita and Nikki, and diagonally opposite us, Peter, with Chrissie, Janet and Jacquie. In the middle, looking rather pleased with himself, was Cindy Doll with his two assistants, somehow managing to laugh and joke in spite of all the noise.

Even above the noise of the music, I could hear the thumping of my heartbeat. My breathing was rapid and shallow, and I felt my eyes widen and anxiously darting around the room, looking at the door every few seconds to anticipate the next summoning.

Eventually it came. The Lady Veronica Devonshire, the sign said. Peter stood on the opposite side of the room. Chrissie strode purposefully in front of him towards the door, while, with some trepidation, Janet offered her arm to him. He smiled at her nervously, and took it. He looked over to me half way across the room, and I smiled, and gave a little thumbs up sign to wish him luck. Miss Underwood opened the door to let them all through, and then it shut again. Then there were two.

This next interlude was the worst of them all; I knew that I was next. The back of my throat could taste electricity in the air, and my body was vibrating to the thrum of the music as it blared from the speaker. Nikki began to fuss with my hair, pulling a strand here, and placing another back, which was almost unbearably irritating, although I put up with it. Anita took my hand, and began to rub the back of it gently to calm me. I moved my feet backwards and forwards to stop them going numb, and for the first time in days, I became acutely aware of my bra holding me around the chest, and the tops of my stockings scratching against my thighs. My dress seemed to have taken on infinite mass, weighing so heavily against my legs that I wondered if I would be able to stand when the time came. My head was sweating profusely under the wig, and I imagined that soon, beads of sweat would come pouring down from underneath it.

I stared rigidly at the door for several minutes, waiting for the first sign of any movement from it. It was strange, therefore, that when it did open, my attention had momentarily drifted to the far wall, now empty of people, and full of bags and discarded bits of clothing.

So there it was, Miss Underwood at the door with a sign saying Sarah Sweetheart. My mouth instantly became as dry as the desert. Anita and Nikki both stood on either side of me before I could get my body to respond. Taking an arm each, they helped me to my feet, and we moved, at first inch by inch towards the door. Miss Underwood stood there, looking a little impatient as we proceeded towards her. She held the door open wider as we approached, and through it I could see the crowd in their chairs, chatting to each other and laughing. Suddenly we burst through into the light. Anita gave my arm a final squeeze as she and Nikki made off towards the back of the hall, leaving me standing stock still by the door to the changing room. I could still hear the music from inside, but the hall itself was silent.

"Go on!" urged Miss Underwood, gently pushing me towards the stage. Slowly I began my procession, as the crowd politely clapped and cheered. Breathing carefully, I tried to regain some composure as I walked slowly forward. I suddenly remembered the smile, which I quickly adopted, gazing vacantly above the heads of the seats as I passed.

Looking ahead of me, I saw the steps up onto the stage. As I reached them, remembering my training, I clutched the front of my dress, and lifted it with one hand, holding the other ready to balance me if I lost my balance. With painstaking deliberateness, I lifted myself up step-by-step, still holding my head high rather than look at my feet.

The stage was set up as before, with a table to one side at which Miss Williams sat with a pen in her hand. The other contestants who had gone before we were ranged in a line at the rear, all looking in my direction. Centre stage, holding a microphone, was Liz, grinning broadly, and waiting for me to reach her.

I got to the stage, let go of the front of my dress, and still smiling, walked forward towards her. The applause died down, as Liz gazed smiling reassuringly at me. She held the microphone to her mouth, and began to speak.

"Hello. It's Sarah Sweetheart isn't it?" she began, and then held the microphone towards me. I took a half step forward toward it before attempting to respond.

"Yes," I whispered hoarsely.

"That's a lovely name," she went on, her eyes darting up and down. "Are you enjoying being in the contest Sarah?"

"Yes," I replied, half turning to the audience to give them a view of my smile, which I assumed was my best feature. "It's been fun."

"Good," Liz continued, drawing my eyes back to her. "Now I'm just going to ask you a couple of questions. They're not difficult ones, we're just trying to find out a little bit more about what sort of girl you are." She smiled again, and there was a light of mischief in her eyes.

"Okay!" I replied brightly.

"Good. Well, first of all, what are your hobbies? What sort of things do you like?"

This had been amongst the many questions we had practiced the afternoon before. I took a deep breath, and remembered the response we had come up with.

"Well, I like music, and fashion, and dancing."

"Dancing?" Liz responded. "So you like discos and things like that?"

"Oh yes," I replied enthusiastically. "I used to do ballet when I was little, but now I like more modern stuff."

Liz's eyes danced some more, and looking up at her, waiting for the next question, I felt a little flutter in my stomach.

"So you were a ballerina?" she asked, her eyes flashing and pinning mine to hers.

I nodded emphatically. "Yes. I wasn't very good, but I enjoyed it."

"I bet you did," she responded, still grinning widely at me.

"And what about the future? What sort of jobs do you think you might like when you leave school?"

Again this was one of the rehearsed questions. Trying not to let the relief show on my face, I lined up the practiced answer in my mind before replying. "Well, I'd quite like to be a model, but I don't think I'm tall enough."

Liz smiled again, "Oh I don't know, I think you'd make a lovely model."

"Or I'd also like to work with animals and children." I continued. The audience laughed at the cliché, and I smiled at them briefly, before returning my gaze to the apparently rapt Liz.

"So you like children do you?" she asked.

"Oh yes!" I gushed. "They're lovely. I do lots of babysitting, and I'd like to work with the cubs or brownies when I'm older."

"Were you ever a brownie?" Liz asked me. This was not one of the questions we had gone through, but I was into my stride by now.

"Oh yes!" I continued, turning to the audience to flash them another smile. "I was a little pixy."

Liz's eyes shone even brighter. "I bet you were!" she said quietly. "And children," she said, carrying on, "Since you like them so much, would you like some of your own?"

I thought for a moment, and then replied. "Well of course; I mean, I'd be a bit scared of the giving birth bit, but I'd love to have children." I looked deep into her eyes for a moment, feeling myself swaying almost imperceptibly at the hips, before casting my eyes downward again for a second. Glancing up, I saw Miss Williams smiling and nodding before my eyes returned to Liz. "But I'm going to wait for the right person to have them with to come along first."

Liz seemed stunned into silence by this answer. She stared directly at me for a number of seconds, and looked as if she might explode. Somehow, she managed to regain herself however, by looking at the piece of paper she was holding. "And now the final question. It's a bit yucky, but I'm sure you won't mind."

I nodded slightly, wondering what might be coming next.

"Imagine if you can," she began, "That you wake up tomorrow, and discover that you've been turned into a boy." My surprise and alarm at the question must have shown on my face, she paused for a moment. "It would be horrible wouldn't it?"

For the first time since the interview began, I felt unsure of myself. I pulled a bit of a face of disgust, and said. "Oh yes, it would be yucky." There was a ripple of laughter around the audience.

"I know," she replied, her eyes somehow fixed on my cleavage. "But imagining that it did happen, what part of being a girl would you miss most of all?"

I paused. This was the moment of truth. How I answered this question would probably determine whether I won the contest or not, or so it appeared to me at that second. Framing several answers in my mind, I opened my mouth to say how much I'd miss the clothes, when a different response came into my mouth.

"Well I'd miss all sorts of things," my mouth began, operating independently of my mind. "But most of all, I'd miss having such good friends."

The audience, or at least the female half of it roared their approval at this, and there was a loud explosion of applause. When it had died down, Liz continued. "Well thank you Sarah. Please join the other contestants at the back, while we welcome our final contestant, Miss Cindy Doll!" Her eyes did not leave me as she talked this through, and for a second or two, I did not move. Then I managed a final smile to the audience, and walked with deliberately tiny steps to join the line of contestants at the back.

Lawrence was grinning wildly and clapping as I approached. Peter smiled wanly, but looked as if he might be about to have another turn.

By the time I had reached the line, and turned around to face the front, Cindy Doll was lumbering with deliberate clumsiness up the stairs and onto the stage. Laughter echoed around the audience, as he strode across to stand by Liz, waving vigorously at the crowd with both arms, and revealing his hairy armpits.

His responses to Liz's questions had the audience in stitches. His hobbies included naked sunbathing and sucking lollipops; his ambition was to be a porn star, and the thing he would miss most about being a girl would be being able to fondle his own tits. Once the questions were finished, the crowd gave him a huge round of applause as he waved to them again, and walked back with a huge grin on his face to join our line.

Miss Underwood climbed onto the stage, and walked across to the desk to join Miss Williams, while Liz remained with the microphone. A couple of girls came onto the stage with a make shift throne, which they placed at the front. In reality, it was a simple chair, but flowers had been garlanded around its arms and legs.

"Okay," began Liz, to calm the hubbub in the hall. "We're just going to compare notes for a few moments, and then we'll announce the results."

The music was switched onto the PA system in the hall, and, throwing a glance in my direction, Liz walked purposefully across to the desk to join the other judges.

"Oh you were fantastic!" Lawrence said, suddenly appearing in front of me, and jumping up and down. "I wish I thought of some of those answers! I said the thing I'd miss most about being a girl was being able to wear a skirt. I bet everyone said that!"

"Well Cindy didn't" I responded.

"No," Lawrence conceded. "But he was trying to be the comedy turn. Were you here when Peter was being interviewed?"

"No," I replied.

"Oh God, I felt so sorry for him! He was obviously still not well. He couldn't get any words to come out at all. He just stood there gasping for breath. Liz had to terminate the interview early, she didn't even get to ask him why he would miss being a girl!"

I looked over to Peter, with concern and pity filling up in me.

We both turned to face the audience. I scanned the sea of faces, and saw Jenny Carpenter, the journalist, standing at the front, and looking very pleased with herself.

"There's Tania!" Lawrence exclaimed, and jumped up and down again to wave. I looked to see where he had seen her, and eventually found her. Anita was standing next to her, and once her eye caught mine, gave me a broad grin, and a thumbs up sign. I had certainly got her approval for my performance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liz standing up. She leant forward to say something to the other judges, nodded, and then, picking up a piece of paper, walked across the stage to the microphone. She signalled to the side, and the music was switched off. It took some time for the noise of the crowd to die down, but at length it did, and Liz was able to speak.

"Okay, well if you're ready, we'll announce the results," she said. The crowd rumbled its agreement to the suggestion. I felt myself colouring up again with nervousness. In spite of myself, now I was here, I wanted to win this thing.

"We'll do it in the time honoured fashion," Liz announced. "We'll give you the names of the first three in reverse order." She picked up the piece of paper she was carrying.

"First of all let me say that in our opinion, all of these lovely ladies were gorgeous. We think both they and their helpers have done a fantastic job. In terms of loveliness, they've all been winners!"

There was a polite round of applause.

"But there has to be a result. It wasn't easy for us, as you can imagine. We've stuck firmly to the rules as we originally set them out. We've marked everyone on just three criteria; general appearance and beauty; poise and deportment; and lastly the ability to answer questions in an appropriately feminine way."

The crowd murmured to itself at this point. The fans of Cindy Doll appeared particularly put out by this strict adherence to the rules as stated, and there were a few shouts of "Cindy for Queen!"

"Right, now in third place, and one of our Princesses, is the lovely Miss Ogynist!"

There was a loud cheer, and the little boy in question looked both shocked and startled before almost running to the front of the stage. Liz placed a sash around one shoulder, and kissed him gently on the cheek, as the audience continued to cheer and whistle.

"Quiet now!" she admonished. "Now in second place, and our other Princess, is the gorgeous Miss Lucy Lawrence!"

There was another explosion of applause and cheering. Lawrence stood beside me with his mouth and eyes stretched wide in surprise. "Well done!" I said, although with all the noise I doubt he heard me, and he walked up to the front to be sashed and kissed by Liz.

Suddenly all the confidence I had felt after answering the questions evaporated. It was obvious who the winner was going to be, Peter. I looked across at him, still looking ill. Regardless of the problems he had apparently had with the questions, he was so much prettier than me. His hair was immaculately coiffured, and his make up delightful. Apart from anything else, his bum was so much smaller than mine. I shuddered at my stupidity in thinking I might have won, when I realised that both the audience and the judges must have seen my huge derriere and been appalled.

"Now for the moment of truth," I heard Liz say from the front. "The moment we announce our overall winner, and the Queen of the school. First, and the most beautiful amongst all these beauties, let's hear it for the voluptuous Miss Sarah Sweetheart!"

My mind went numb and I hardly heard the noise of the crowd. I saw Liz in front of me smiling, and holding out her hand for me to come forward. I held my hands to my mouth, and felt the pats of congratulations of the other contestants on my shoulders. Eventually, I managed to compose myself enough to pace slowly forward towards Liz. She smiled widely at me, and clapped. Eventually, as though floating, I found myself at her side. She placed a sash over my head, and carefully straightened it around me, before gently taking my shaking head, and kissing me on the forehead. Taking my arm, she led me to the makeshift throne, and sat me down on it.

I stared out across the applauding crowd, interspaced with the flashes of cameras, and felt my lip trembling. My two princesses both came over, and kissed me on either cheek, as a genuine tear fell down my face.

Smiling Liz bent to kiss me on the cheek again and surreptitiously wipe it away. "Well done Sarah," she whispered to me. "I hoped it would be you. Once they've calmed down a bit, we'll lead off the dancing."

I looked at her in some alarm.

"Don't worry," she said soothingly. "I'm going to be your escort for the evening, and you'll be my Queen."

  

  

  

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