Contest And Consequence

by Sarah Bayen

Part Six – Retail Therapy

  

I was awoken the next morning by my mother knocking on my bedroom door. In a daze, I slowly opened my eyes. The sun was blazing through my window, and for some reason my eyelashes seemed to be stuck together.

"Come on," I heard her voice from outside. "It's half past seven!"

I raised my head, and saw some curious black marks on my pillow. Then it occurred to me; I had fallen asleep with my make up on. My hands went up to the top of my head; I had also slept in my wig. What had I been thinking of?

Answering myself, I had been thinking about Liz, and the evening we had spent. I had been so engrossed in that, that I had completely forgotten to remove either the wig or my make up. I must have looked a mess.

"Can I come in?" my Mum's voice asked.

Pulling the sheets up to cover my nakedness, and yanking off the wig, I answered yes. Sitting up, I could see the clothes I had taken off carelessly strewn across the floor. My Mum saw them too, as she entered.

"Well you look a right picture," she admonished. "You should have asked me for some make up remover last night."

"I didn't think," I protested feebly.

"Well I suppose I could lend you some now. Do you know how to take it off?"

"Yes," I replied without thinking, and then realising that I shouldn't appear too much of an expert added. "Well, at least I can't imagine it's that difficult."

"No," Mum sort of agreed. "Still, I suppose you'll be putting some more on, if you're going to school as a girl again."

I looked at her carefully to see if she was showing any reaction to this; if she was, I couldn't read it. "Yes, I suppose so."

"Well what are you going to do? Wait till Liz gets here so she can put it on for you?"

"Liz!" I sputtered. The thought of Liz knowing very much about make up seemed ridiculous. "No, I'll do it myself."

"Have you got some then, or do you need to borrow mine?"

"I'm not sure," I replied, honestly. Anita had given me a shoulder bag for the first round yesterday, and judging by past experience it would be chock full of make up and other girly stuff. "I think I might have some."

My Mum raised her eyebrows.

"They gave me a handbag yesterday," I explained hastily. "I think there's some make up in there."

"And you know how to put it on do you?" she asked pointedly.

I looked at her, and wondered how to reply. I certainly didn't relish the thought of my own mother helping me with my make up, but, again, I didn't want to seem too used to doing it myself. "I'll give it a go," I said eventually.

She looked at me with a worried look on her face, and shrugged. "Well if you want. But if you get stuck, give me a shout."

"I will, thanks." I replied, smiling.

She turned and looked at the clothes on the floor. Cringing in shame, I saw the knickers and stockings lying there where I had cast them off the day before. She walked over, and picked them up. "These will need washing before you give them back," she said, ever practical, and then she picked up the dress. "And this will need dry cleaning. Who leant it to you?"

"Nikki," I said.

"Well you could have at least hung it up properly," she scolded, looking at it critically. "Never mind, I'll take it down the dry cleaners later on today."

I sat still in the bed, wondering when she would leave. Liz was going to be here at eight o'clock, and I needed to get myself dressed by then, as well as sort out the mess my face was in.

"Have you got a uniform? A girl's one that is?" she asked me.

"Yes," I replied. "I've got everything I need."

"What about a bra?"

I didn't know where she was heading with this. "A bra?"

"Yes, you'll need a bra won't you?"

"Well, yes," I agreed. "But it's okay. Just leave that one there."

"You can't wear this two days running!" she exclaimed. "It's all sweaty. Do you want to borrow one of mine?"

I certainly did not. I thought fast. Janet had given me a bag of underwear the day before; there was bound to be a bra in there someone, even though she had given Peter one from the collection the previous afternoon. "It's okay," I replied. "I think there's another one around somewhere."

She looked at me disbelievingly. "All right," she said eventually. "I'll leave you to it shall I?"

"Yes please!"

She shook her head and left the room. I breathed a sigh of relief, and got myself up, and went over to the sink to look at myself in the mirror. I had huge black rings around my eyes. There was no way on earth I was going to let Liz see me like that. I run a sink full of water, and washed myself desultorily. This was no good, I thought to myself; I needed a shower. I put on my dressing gown, and picked up a towel. As I moved towards the door my mother came back in.

"Here you are," she said, laying a bag on the bed. "That's got some make up remover pads in it; and a few bits and pieces you might need."

"Oh, thanks," I said unsurely.

"Just some eye shadow and mascara and stuff," she explained. "You might as well look your best."

"Thanks," I said again. "I think I'll just catch a shower."

My Mum then noticed the wig that I had cast on the bed. "Oh for God's sake!" she exclaimed. "You've made a mess of this haven't you? What did you do, sleep in it?"

I felt myself blush. "I think I might have done."

"Honestly Steve! You're hopeless! I'll take it downstairs and see if I can sort it out a bit for you. You'll look a right mess if I don't."

She picked up the wig, and true to her word took it, and left the room and went downstairs. I took myself across the corridor, and into the bathroom for my shower. I knew I was short of time, but I felt grubby, and wanted to meet Liz as clean as I could be.

I showered and washed my hair, which was sweaty from wearing the wig so long the day before. It would be a lot more convenient to let my own hair grow, I thought to myself, then jumped back to reality. What was I thinking of? That only made sense if I intended to dress as a girl more regularly. Still, what with my new job, my girls' night out, and the cheerleading business, my life was no longer a level plain of dressing as a boy.

I went back to my room to dry myself off. I looked in the mirror; while not as bad, my make up disaster from the night before was still evident. I looked in the bag my Mum had left on the bed, and recognised some little pads that Anita had once used on me. I went back to the mirror, and rubbed these around my eyes. That seemed to do the trick; rather than looking like a bewildered panda, I now looked more like the fifteen year-old boy I really was.

Boy? What was I thinking of? I now had about five minutes to turn myself back into a fifteen year-old schoolgirl before Liz arrived. I opened the bag Anita had leant me, and sure enough, inside were my boots, school skirt, and the lovely jumper Anita wore so well. There was also the pair of tights I had worn the previous morning. Freshly showered as I was, I picked these up gingerly; I would rather have had a fresh pair to put on. Then I remembered Nikki saying that she had brought along some spares, in case I'd laddered them. I rummaged around the bag, and found a packet. To my delight, as I lifted it out, it was a new pair of black tights.

I then leant over and picked up the bag Janet had given me the night before, with Peter's rejected underwear. I hadn't really looked into its contents then, in spite of my assertion to my Mum that there was a bra in there. I tipped it out onto the bed. This revealed a cornucopia of lingerie; Janet must have spent a fortune on it. There were four absolutely gorgeous pairs of knickers, as well as a bra, with a matching suspender belt. This was good; my Mum had run off with my knickers from the day before, so this had saved me from having to wear boy's underpants, and bulging out at the front of my skirt. I stopped dead in my tracks; my thoughts were getting more and more bizarre; had I really just thought how lucky I was to have found some girl's knickers?

I shook my head, and picked up one of the pairs that caught my eye most of all, with a front panel of pink lace, and slipped them on. They were mildly elasticated, which felt a little uncomfortable, but I was pleased that they would hold me in tight, and perhaps even stop my bum looking so big.

I slipped the bra on as well, struggling a little to do it up, but I managed in the end. I then ripped open the pack of tights, and slipped these onto my legs. I walked over to my chest of drawers to find some socks to fill out my boobs, and slipped them into the cups of the bra, and then, after a little deliberation, picked a skimpy pair of white knickers to hold my tights up. I pulled Anita's jumper down over my head, and then decided to put on my make up.

I looked at the bag my Mum had given me, and hesitated. Somehow it seemed wrong to borrow Mum's make up; I found the shoulder bag, and looked inside it instead. As I suspected there was a make up bag in there as well. I took it out, and opened it up. As well as the expected blushers, eye shadows and mascaras, there were two tampons. The sight of these made me blush, and I quickly took out a light blue eye shadow, and went over to the mirror by the sink to put it on.

As I was doing this, I heard the doorbell ring; damn, that would be Liz, and I wasn't ready yet. There was the sound of voices down in the hall as Mum welcome Liz, as I continued with my make up.

"Liz is here!" Mum shouted up the stairs.

"Okay. I won't be long!" I shouted in reply.

I tried not to hurry the job; more haste less speed, I told myself, as I carefully applied first the eyeliner, and then some mascara. I looked at myself critically, and decided that a little bit of foundation wouldn't go amiss. I was half way through this when my Mum came back in with my wig.

"Here," she said, "I've brushed it through for you."

She handed it over to me, and looked at me strangely. She shook her head. "I have to say it's a bit of a shock to see your son putting his make up on by the mirror, and wearing tights and knickers."

"Sorry Mum," I said, as I rubbed the last of the foundation on.
"It's all right," she said. "I know why you're doing it, for charity and that, but it's still a bit of a shock."

I smiled, not knowing what other reaction to give, and she went back downstairs. I found a lipstick, and put a light coating on; nothing too ostentatious for this time of day, I thought to myself.

Once I was satisfied with my make up, I picked up the skirt. Damn, I thought, no slip! Despite all its delights, the bag Janet had given me didn't have a slip in it. I thought about this; I could do without, or wear the one from the contest the day before. In the end I opted for this latter option. I certainly didn't want my skirt riding up if I was having my picture taken; besides, it would make it hang better on my bum, which would give Liz a better impression of me.

I got the slip out, and put it on, swiftly followed by my school skirt. Last of all, I sat down on the bed, and put the long black boots on, zipping them up carefully, so they didn't catch on my tights. That was half the battle done; I still had to make sure I had my work skirt for the day after ready, as well as some boy clothes to come home in on Sunday. Sunday, it seemed so far in the future! Yet I suddenly realised that it would be that long before I was dressed as a boy again. I shuddered to myself for a moment, and then shrugged my shoulders dismissively. It wouldn't be that bad if I didn't think about it too much.

I found the work skirt, and put it in the bag, and then went over to my chest of drawers. I found a pair of jeans, underpants a T-shirt and some socks, and threw them into the bag. I nearly forgot shoes, but remembered before zipping the bag up, and threw in a pair of trainers as well.

Nearly there, I thought to myself; all I had to do now was sort out my hair. I picked up the wig, and went over to the mirror. Carefully, I put it into place, and ran my fingers through it. It didn't look to bad, but I sort of agreed with myself, it would be better to let my own hair grow longer.

"Come on Steve! Liz is waiting!" my Mum shouted up again.

"Nearly there!" I responded.

Right, that looked as if it was about it. I had my schoolgirl outfit on; the work skirt for tomorrow, and some boy clothes to come home in on Sunday. All that was missing was my dress for the girl's night out, and that, I knew, was at Anita's. I then remembered underwear for tomorrow! I picked up the other knickers that were lying on the bed, and put them into the bag as well. I was short of a pair of tights to wear to work, but maybe I could pick some up during the day. I also had to get hold of a long slip somehow, and a sensible pair of work shoes. I grimaced to myself; that would probably mean going up to town from school sometime later in the day; still, needs must when the devil drives, I told myself.

Taking a deep breath, I put my shoulder bag over my arm, and picked up the travel bag. It wasn't too heavy. I walked through into the hall, and down the stairs. Liz was waiting at the bottom, and looked up at me, smiling, as I descended. My Mum emerged from the kitchen, and looked sideways at me.

"Girls!" she said disparagingly, "you know what they're like getting ready."

Liz grinned even wider, and nodded. "Still," she said, looking at me as I reached the bottom of the stairs. "When they look as beautiful as that, it's almost worth it."

The sight of Liz and the sound of her voice made me feel heady. She had her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, and wore a blue sweatshirt, and tracksuit trousers like the day before. The things she had said and done in my dreams flashed around my mind like an out of focus kaleidoscope, and all I could do was smile ineffectually in response.

"Well," said Mum, dragging me away from my fantasies. "I'll not be seeing you again till Sunday I suppose."

I shook my head, reluctant to take my eyes away from Liz.

"Well, give us a kiss then," Mum went on. I walked across and pecked her on the cheek. "And give me a ring this evening."

"I will," I promised.

I lifted the bag up, and Liz stepped forward. "I'll take that if you like," she said, holding her arm out for it. I hesitated. It hardly seemed right to let a girl carry my bag, but she was bigger and stronger than me. Not that the bag was heavy. After a brief pause, I allowed her to take it. She smiled. "Come on then, we'd best get a move on, otherwise we'll be late for the interview."

We said our last goodbyes to my Mum, and left the house. Liz held the gate open for me as we stepped out into the street, and then opened the boot on her car to put my bag of clothes in. Walking onto the pavement, she unlocked the passenger door, and then held it open for me. All this show of genteel behaviour gave me mixed feelings; on one level, I loved the attention and fuss, and being made to feel delicate and in need of protection; on another, it seemed to impinge on my independence. I thanked her though, and, remembering to be ladylike, I reversed myself into the car seat as best as I could.

"No stockings today then?" Liz observed kindly, with a wry grin on her face.

I flushed as I realised that my attempts to be ladylike had not been as successful as I would have hoped. "No," I mumbled in reply. "Not in a skirt this short anyway."

"Pity," she responded, and closed the door, walked around to the driver's side, and got in. She started the engine, and away we went. The journey was pleasant enough, with the weather warm. Liz chatted away to me, mainly about her sporting prowess, and, although I was acutely aware of the closeness of her, and pleased with the attention she was paying me, I paid little attention to her words. A few minutes into the journey, I noticed the placed where we had parked the evening before, and the memories of that filled my mind, and made my stomach jump a little. I sort of hoped that she might stop the car again, and kiss me as my body was demanding. She didn't, however, and we soon drove up to the school, and she parked the car.

Liz was out of her seat, and around to open my door before I could open it myself. Again, I felt a glow of helplessness and protection, and pressing the hem of my skirt firmly down, I lowered my legs out, and got out of the car. She shut it behind me, and went to the boot for my bag, which she made no effort to give to me to carry.

"Come on," she said, "Let's get to Jane's office, and make ourselves a cup of tea." I followed her dutifully through the main doors to the school, and into the headmistress's secretary's office, which acted as a sort of antechamber to the place itself. I hadn't been in there very often; I was a particularly boring sort of pupil I suppose, without a history of misdemeanours or triumphs that would have necessitated attendance on the hierarchy. I preferred, where I could, to remain anonymous, or at least I had done until the contest.

"Hi Penny!" Liz said brightly to the school secretary. She looked up from her computer, and smiled back.

"Hi Liz," and then looked at me. "And you must be Sarah!"

"Hello," I said, shyly.

"Listen," began Liz. "That reporter from the paper's supposed to be coming in to interview us around ten. Is it okay if we use Jane's office? I know she's out today."

"Sure," Penny replied, smiling. "I'm sure she won't mind. But make sure you don't say anything disparaging about the school."

"We won't," Liz responded, and taking my hand, lead me through the connecting door to the inner sanctum. There was a large wooden desk in front of the window, tidy to the point of obsession, and in front of it, a couple of sofas surrounding a dark wooden coffee table. The walls were covered in glass-fronted bookcases, and it smelt absurdly clean.

Liz put the bag down beside one of the sofas, and motioned for me to sit in it, which I did. It was lower than I had imagined, and I had to put my legs sideways to avoid showing too much of my underwear.

"I'll just get Penny to make us some tea then," Liz announced, and went back through to the other office. I watched her go; she had so much front and confidence. I wondered if I would ever feel as confident as she did. I heard them chatting away in the room while the kettle boiled. It seemed that Penny hadn't seen the contest, but had heard about it from the other staff that morning. A couple of teachers came and went from the outer office, and Liz called them all by their Christian names.

She came back in with a couple of white china mugs, and put them on the coffee table in front of me, and then sat down on the sofa. Her arm snaked around the back of me, and onto my shoulders. I glanced nervously at the still open connecting door.

"Don't worry about that," Liz whispered, following my eyes. "She can't see from where she sits. Anyway, she'd be discrete."

I smiled nervously in response. My body was already singing from her closeness, and her touch. My hand moved to the hem of my skirt, to check it was still in place, and her eyes bored into my face above her smile. "You look so beautiful," she whispered, and I felt my stomach jump again. I tried to look away, but her eyes drew me back, and she leant slowly forward to engage her mouth with mine. Hesitantly, I loosened my lips and teeth, and her tongue burst through these flimsy defences into my mouth. It was like tasting nectar, as she massaged my mouth with her darting movements, gentle, yet powerful.

We kissed for what seemed ages, and she leant closer to me. One hand held my head in place for her attentions, while the other slowly and carefully stroked me along the arm, and then my waist and hips. She grasped the top of my leg, and I felt worried. I was so fat there, that she would I thought immediately be put off me forever. I squirmed a little, and she removed her hand.

"Sorry," she whispered hoarsely. "Got a bit carried away."

We disengaged for a moment, and again, I pulled the hem of my skirt downwards. Her eyes fell on it, and the white hem of my slip showing from beneath it. A strange, sort of pained looked, fell across her face. I really thought for a moment that she had suddenly realised that she was kissing a boy dressed as a schoolgirl, and was about to run away in disgust. But instead, she fell on me again, with a passionate kiss and embrace that nearly took my breath away. It seemed that even dressed as a girl, and as fat as I was, she wanted to kiss me.

Her arms wrapped around my back, and I felt myself leaning into them, as she kissed first my mouth, then my forehead and my cheeks, before returning to my mouth. One of my legs lost its contact with the ground, and flapped uselessly in the air. Her mouth moved down to my throat, and then lower, to my chest, as I felt myself tensing and shaking, not with fright, but with an expectation known by my body but not my memory. I leant my head back, with my eyes closed, to make the most of this attention. I wanted to buy a little cottage with roses around the door and live there with this woman.

"Oh hi guys, hope I'm not interrupting."

We quickly disentangled ourselves, and sitting upright, I looked towards the door, and saw Miss Underwood standing there, in a similar sweatshirt and tracksuit to Liz.

"No, it's fine," Liz responded breathlessly. As surreptitiously as I could, I checked my skirt, and to my horror found that it had ridden up almost to my waist. Blushing furiously, I tugged it downwards until my modesty was restored.

"I was just wondering if you'd had a chance to talk to Lucy and Veronica about being cheerleaders for us," she went on. "I had a talk to that Miss Ogynist kid this morning, but he wasn't too keen."

"No, I haven't had a chance," I responded, my voice sounding strange and distant.

"Right," she went on. "Only I'd like to fix it up today if we can."

Liz stood up. "It's no problem, let's see if we can catch them now." She walked through the connecting door into the office, and I heard some mumbles between her and Penny. Suddenly the school PA system burst into life. Liz's voice echoed around demanding that Lawrence and Peter come immediately to the principal's office. She walked back in with a smile on her face.

"Liz!" I exclaimed in shock. "That'll really freak them out!"

She shrugged. "They'll be okay. I was just trying to get their attention."

Sure enough, it was hardly two or three minutes later when a bewildered looking Peter was led through to join us.

"What's going on?" he asked.
"We'll let you know when Lawrence gets here." Liz told him.

"I'm not in trouble am I?" he blurted. "Chrissie said she'd get me in trouble if I didn't ……"

"No," Liz assured him before he could finish.

I looked at him carefully. He still looked pale and unwell, even without any make up or girl's clothes. I smiled at him, and he returned the favour. Then Lawrence was led in, looking equally confused.

"What's going on?" he said, seeing us there. "Oh Steve!" he suddenly exclaimed, and walked across to hug me. "We were all worried when you weren't on the train this morning. We thought you might have had an accident or something."

"No," I said, "Liz gave me a lift in."

He gave Liz an appraising look, and then looked back to me. "And you look fabulous! I thought about wearing my school uniform in today, but to be honest, I didn't have the nerve!"

Oh no, I thought, Lawrence was now under the impression that I had chosen to wear a girl's school uniform to school. I was about to tell him about the interview when Miss Underwood decided to get down to the business at hand.

"Right," she said. "We were talking with Sarah here yesterday after the contest, and came up with a sort of idea."

I twitched again at this; now it was going to go down in history that dressing up as cheerleaders had in part been my idea.

"Now I don't know if you know," she went on, "but the girls' soccer team have got a real important match coming next Wednesday."

Peter and Lawrence shook their heads; like me, and probably the rest of the school, the exploits of the girls' soccer team had until then been something of a mystery.

"And we were thinking that they deserve some support."

Liz stood by her side and nodded.

"Don't you think that sounds reasonable?" Miss Underwood went on.

Lawrence and Peter looked at each other, and then back to the teacher, and nodded.

"Good!" she exclaimed. "So what Sarah has agreed to do, is be a cheerleader for them, and we sort of wondered if you'd like to join in as well."

Peter and Lawrence's eyes turned to me, and there was silence for a moment.

"Do you mean like American cheerleaders," Lawrence asked, "in short skirts and with pompoms and things?"

Miss Underwood hesitated a second before responding. "Sure, that's the sort of thing we had in mind."

Lawrence looked back at me, and suddenly his face broke into a smile. "Yeah, that would be cool," he gushed. "We could work out some good moves and stuff, couldn't we Steve?"

"Well I'd be your coach," Miss Underwood interjected. "I've done a bit of it before, so I can get you up to speed quick enough. She turned to Peter, "And what about you, sorry, I don't know your boy's name, Veronica?"

Peter looked nonplussed. "Well to be honest I sort of decided not to dress up as a girl any more after yesterday," he said.

"Oh come on Peter!" Lawrence gushed again, "It'll be really good!"

Peter hesitated some more. "Well I suppose I could."

"Great!" exclaimed Miss Underwood, taking this as agreement. "Like I was saying to Sarah yesterday, I've got some pretty good outfits you could use. I'll bring them in on Monday and we can have a little practice."

"I thought we were going to have the practice on Tuesday!" I found myself saying.

"Well sure, we can practice then as well," Miss Underwood went on. "But cheering's not that easy. The more we practice the better we'll be, and I'm sure the girls will appreciate that, won't you Liz."

"Sure!" Liz agreed enthusiastically. "With these three here cheering us on, we're bound to win!"

"Right then, it's settled," Miss Underwood went on. "If you guys meet me by the games staff changing room at, say, half nine on Monday, we'll take it from there." She beamed at the four of us in the room, and then left.

I turned to look at Peter. "Are you sure you're all right with this?" I asked, with some concern.

He nodded. "Sure. It won't be as bad as when Chrissie made me do it. She made me," he began, and then stopped, holding his head down.

"What?" I asked, gently holding his arms. He looked as if he was on the brink of tears.

"I don't want to talk about it," he blurted. "I'll see you later," and with that, he left the room.

"She must have been awful to him," Lawrence observed, shaking his head. "We were really lucky if you think about it Steve. I know Anita, Nikki and Tania teased us a bit, but they weren't horrible to us, like Chrissie probably was to him."

We both looked at the now empty doorway with concern. "Oh by the way," Lawrence suddenly said, much brighter. "You really ought to have a word with Sue when you can. She's worried about whether you're going to make it to work tomorrow."

I nodded to show I'd understood. "We're getting interviewed by the newspaper in a minute," I said to him. "They're doing an article on me winning the contest."

"Oh that's cool!" he exclaimed! "I really wish I had worn my uniform now, maybe they would have taken a picture of me!"

He posed provocatively, and I smiled. "Maybe."

"What's all this about work?" Liz suddenly asked from behind me, making me jump. Damn; I had been dreading this question. How was I going to explain to her that I now had a job as a shop girl in a fashion boutique.

"It's just my Saturday job," I said as brightly as I could. "It's my first day there tomorrow; Sue works there too, so she was just a bit worried when I wasn't on the train."

Liz looked at me with a puzzled look on her face. "What sort of job is it?" she asked.

"Oh a shop," I went on brightly. "Come on Lawrence, you'd best leave us. If you see Sue, tell her I'll be fine for tonight."

"Tonight?" said Liz. "I thought you said it was a Saturday job."

I bit my lip, and Lawrence looked at me with some amusement in his face. "Yes," I said, turning to Liz. "It is. But I'm staying over tonight, so we can get there in time."

Liz's face suddenly became cloudy, and she turned away to look out of the window. Lawrence raised his eyebrows in despair as he looked to me, and mouthed the word 'jealous'.

"Right, I'll make sure I tell Sue," he said. "I'll see you later, and good luck with the interview."

He left Liz and I alone in the office again. She made no move to sit back down on the sofa, and continued to look through the window behind the desk. Was Lawrence right? Could she really be jealous that I was going to be working with Sue?

"Is everything all right," I asked, moving around the desk to be nearer her.

"Yes," she replied curtly. Perhaps Lawrence was right.

"It's only a Saturday job," I said.

"I know that. I don't mind you having a Saturday job, but I'm a bit," she paused, searching for the right word; "upset about you sleeping with another girl."

"There's nothing between Sue and me!" I exclaimed. "We're just friends!"

Liz's face still showed her displeasure, and she folded her arms across her chest.

"Please Liz, don't be like this!" I pleaded. There was no response.

"Look," I went on, "We'll be in separate bedrooms and everything. There's nothing funny going on."

"Maybe not," Liz mumbled to the window more than me.

"I'm not Sue's boyfriend or anything," I went on. "She doesn't see me like that; I mean, I'll even be doing my job dressed as a girl."

Liz turned from the window at this comment. "As a girl?"

I nodded, and she looked at me quizzically. Suddenly she broke into a smile. "Well that's good," she said. "I suppose there won't be many girls who try and take you away from me when you're dressed as a girl!"

She moved over to me, and put her arms on my shoulders. A vision of Sylvia flashed into my mind; I wasn't as safe dressed as a girl as she thought, but at least I'd managed to convince her there was nothing between Sue and me. As she hugged me, I realised how jealous she had been; the way I felt when Anita was about to spend the evening with John. The thought of Anita threw me into even more confusion. It was all very well convincing Liz that there was nothing between me and Sue, but what about between me and Anita?

We separated, and I hoped for a second that she was going to kiss me; but instead she looked at her watch. "Half past ten," she announced. "That woman's late."

She was right. Jenny Carpenter was supposed to have been there for ten.

"I'd best give them a ring as see what's going on," Liz announced commandingly, and went through to the other office.

Left on my own, I walked over to the window and looked out. The view was hardly inspiring; it looked out over the staff car park. I thought about Liz's outburst of jealousy. The more I thought about it, the crosser I became. We were hardly such an item that she should dictate to me who I could or couldn't spend time with, and anyway, what sort of person did she take me for, if she thought I would be carrying on with Sue as well as her?

I was feeling quite petulant by the time she came back in.

"Apparently Jenny Carpenter's been held up somewhere," she announced. "They've asked if we can go up to their office in town for the interview."

I was so wrapped up in my little pod that I couldn't think of a response.

"Shall we do that then?" Liz asked, smiling at me.

The sight of a smile on her face, and her blue eyes looking adoringly at me melted my resolve to be angry. I nodded.

"We'd best not forget this," Liz said, picking up my bag. I retrieved my shoulder bag from the floor by the sofa, and she stood aside to let me through the door to Penny's office first.

"Well I'll probably see you later then," she said, smiling at us. "Have a good time!"
"We will," Liz responded.

We walked out into the lobby, and I was immediately aware of how I was dressed. It was still a non-uniform day, and all the other students, boys and girls, were dressed quite casually. Quite a few eyes turned to look at Liz and me as we emerged from the office, and my face burnt with embarrassment as we walked towards the door.

We walked to Liz's car, and she drove us up to the town, and parked in an off street car park. We got out, and walked down the street towards the offices of the local paper.

Liz opened the door for me to enter. It was a tatty looking building, and just opposite the door was a rather dated desk that obviously served as a reception. No one was there at first, and we stood waiting for a good few minutes. Eventually an harassed looking woman emerged from the door behind, and shuffled some papers on the desk before lifting her head up and looking at Liz without speaking.

"We're here to see Jenny Carpenter," she explained patiently. "She's interviewing us about the school festival."

The woman stared at Liz blankly for a few moments, and then began consulting a large diary. "She's out," she said bluntly. "On a job."

"We know that, we rang through a while ago. Someone here said we should come up to the office and meet her here."

"I don't know anything about that," the woman replied, curtly. I could sense that Liz was getting angry. "Do you know who it was?"

"I didn't get a name," Liz said, through gritted teeth.

"Let me see what I can find out," the woman replied, and sighing martyrishly, disappeared through the door again.

Liz folded her arms across her chest again, which I was beginning to recognise as a sign of her displeasure.

"Not very good service," I observed.

She looked at me, and smiled. "No," she agreed.

Some minutes later the woman re-emerged. Sitting down behind the desk, she began shuffling the papers again. I could see Liz getting even more agitated by this.

"Any news?" she asked, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, the more so in a newspaper office.

"Oh I'm sorry," the woman replied. "Apparently Jenny won't be back for a while yet. Do you think you could come back in an hour or so?"

Liz glared at her. "Well I don't suppose we've got much choice have we?" she spat. The woman, rather dwarfed by Liz standing so close to her desk, shrugged helplessly.

I touched Liz's arm. "Come on," I said, "We can come back."

Liz was reluctant to move. Without looking at me, she eventually said, "Very well," to the now rather nervous receptionist, and gently guiding her, I led us out of the building.

Out in the street, Liz looked up and down, as if half expecting Jenny Carpenter to bound along. "Well I suppose we'd best get back to school," she said.

A plan had formed in my mind however, while she was confronting the receptionist. I had to buy myself a slip and a pair of shoes for work the next day. Now I was up in town, it seemed a good opportunity to do so.

"I've got a bit of shopping I need to do," I said. "You go back. I can either meet you back here, or I'll come back down to school if you want."

Liz looked at me, puzzled. "I'll come with you," she announced.

My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was for Liz to know that I was about to go off to buy myself a pair of girl's shoes and a slip. I had confessed that I had taken a job as a shop girl, but I didn't want her to think that dressing as a girl was becoming an obsession with me.

"It's all right," I said, "I can manage."

"I'm sure you can," she replied. "But I like your company. I'll stay with you. What are you looking for?"

"Oh nothing much," I said dismissively. "It'll be boring. You go on back. Aren't you supposed to be practicing football or something?"

"Missing one lunch time practice won't matter," she said, smiling. "Come on, you tell me where we've got to go."

I bit my lip. There was nothing for it. I now had a companion for my shopping trip. I gave in gracefully, and led the way down the high street to one of the shoe shops there.

I walked through the door. Unhelpfully the shop had divided its display in a very gender specific way. There was no way I could leave Liz to wander, while I tried on girl's shoes in secret. I decided to bite the bullet, and try and explain.

"I need a pair of shoes for work," I said, as we stood in the doorway. Liz just nodded, and looked around the shop. "Girl's shoes," I went on.

"Right," she said, without particular interest. Shaking my head, I went over to the displays, and started to look through what was on offer. Liz stood behind me, paying very little attention. I started to concentrate on the job at hand.

There were quite a few pairs in there that broadly fitted the bill; plain and sensible, without much of a heel. If I was going to have to stand up in them all day, I reasoned, they might as well be comfortable. One or two were silly colours, or at least colours that wouldn't go with the skirt I was going to wear, so I dismissed these out of hand. There was a simple black pair, with a silver buckle, that might do the trick, but they weren't setting my heart on fire. I decided to go further down the High Street and try one of the other shops.

"Have you decided yet?" Liz asked.

"What?" I replied.

"Decided what shoes to have," she explained.

"No," I responded. "There's one or two that are all right, but I think I'll have a look in one of the other shops as well."

Liz raised her eyebrows at me, but dutifully followed me out of the shop, and down to the next. Here the process was repeated, as I looked at two or three pairs. I found one that looked tolerable, and tried it on. Although they were a size six they seemed a bit large to me. The assistant offered to get me a size five to try, but I refused, saying I was going to think about it.

"What was wrong with them?" Liz asked impatiently, as we left the shop.

"They were a bit big," I said.
"Well you could have tried the next size down," she grumbled.

I studiously ignored this, and walked further down the road to the third and final shoe shop. By now Liz was getting noticeably grumpy with me, and even folded her arms as I looked through the selection. I found another quite nice black pair, and tried these on. I walked up and down the shop, looking at them, and trying to imagine what they would look like with my work skirt. I wasn't sure.

"What do you think?" I asked Liz, coming back to the little stools from where my walk had started.

"They're great!" she said, with forced enthusiasm. "They really suit you. I'd get them if I were you."

"I'm not sure they were any nicer than the pair in the first shop," I said. "And these are two pounds dearer. I might go back there and try those on before deciding."

Liz's face spoke a thousand words of exasperation, although her face was silent. We trudged back up the street to the first shop we had tried, and I got the assistant to get me a pair of the black shoes I had originally seen in a size six.

Trying them on, they seemed again too large. I walked up and down a little, but they flapped off my heel uncomfortably. Reluctantly, I agreed to try on a size five. These fitted much better, and I walked up and down the shop for a good five minutes, checking the feel of them, and, in my mind, imagining how they would look with the work skirt. Eventually I decided that they would do, and bought them.

"At last!" Liz said, as we left the shop. "God, you really are a girl when it comes to shoes you know! Shall we go for a coffee now or something?"

"Not yet," I replied. "I need something else."

Liz bent over against a lamppost in a show of despair.

"Well you go and have a coffee if you want," I said, determined to complete my purchases. "I'll meet up with you later."

"No, I'll stick with it," Liz replied.

I hesitated. Liz might be okay with me buying a pair of girl's shoes for work. That was explainable. They were going to be seen by the customers. It might be a bit more difficult explaining to her why I needed a slip.

"Come on, where are we going now?" she asked me.

"I need a slip," I said quietly.

"A what?"

"A slip," I said, a little louder.

She looked at me with a puzzled look on her face. This was it. I had ruined everything now by admitting that I was going to be wearing girl's underwear at work as well as girl's shoes. I waited for her outburst of disgust, but instead she said. "What's a slip?"

My mouth fell open in surprise. She was asking me what a slip was. She hadn't even guessed that I was going to buy some girl's underwear, she just didn't understand the term. The irony of it all wasn't lost on me either. "What's a slip?" was exactly the same question I had asked Anita and Nikki on the previous Saturday, just before I wore my first ever one.

"It's something you wear," I said vaguely, and wondered how I could convince her to leave me on my own to buy one.

"Oh I know!" she suddenly exclaimed, in a voice louder than I was comfortable with. "You mean a petticoat!"

I tried to shush her, although it did occur to me that dressed as a schoolgirl as I was, it would hardly surprise any passers by that I might want to buy a petticoat.

"Great!" she said with some enthusiasm. "There's a new lingerie shop we passed back up the road. I've never been in it," she added, "but let's go and have a look!"

I was surprised with this sudden enthusiasm for shopping after her previous reluctance. Taking my arm, she marched me back up the street to a sleazy looking shop with a garish display of red and black knickers and bras on tatty plastic models in the window. As far as I had given it any thought, I had intended to look for something plain and simple in one of the chain stores. I tried to slow her down as we got to the door.

"The stuff in here will be too expensive," I said, pleadingly.

"Rubbish. I'll help you pay if you need some," she said, and opening the door, thrust me through it.

It was dark inside the shop, and my eyes took a while to adjust. It was small, and the walls were completely covered in rows and rows of underwear.

"Hey look at this!" said Liz enthusiastically, pulling down a bra and panty set in see through black gauze. "You'd look terrific in these!"

I took them off her and looked. The knickers were flimsy, and split down the front and underneath. I pulled a face.

"Can I help you?" asked a woman, who seemingly emerged from nowhere. She was small, and looked east European.

"Yeah, my friend's looking for something racy to wear!" Liz announced enthusiastically.

"I'm looking for slips," I corrected her, looking at the woman pleadingly.

"I see," she said. "We've got quite a range over here."

She led me across the shop to another display of slips and petticoats. Most were outrageously decorated, and even more outrageously priced. I cursorily looked through them, while Liz continued to peruse the knicker and bra sets. At last I found one that was about the right length, and plain, if rather shiny, white. I glanced at the price; £18! That was out of the question.

I turned around, hoping to be able to persuade Liz to leave the shop. She had found another set in pink, with feathery decorations on the straps. The front of the knickers had a pink love heart standing out in the same loud pink material. Beaming broadly, she held them up for me to see.

"You must have these Sarah!" she enthused. "You'd look fantastic in them!"

"They're only £25," the shop assistant said helpfully. "I could give you a discount if you buy a slip as well."

Liz looked at me expectantly. "Go on Sarah! You'll look brilliant wearing these. If you've found a slip, I'll get them for you."

I looked at her face; she was genuinely excited by the prospect of buying me these knickers and bra. I looked at them again; I supposed they weren't all that bad; hardly what I would have chosen myself, but if they had the right effect on Liz, well, I supposed it might be worth letting her buy me them.

"Well there's one slip that looks all right," I said eventually, walking back to it. I pulled it off the rack, and held it against myself to check the length. It would certainly do, under my work skirt.

Liz pulled a face. "It's a bit plain," she complained. Still holding the bra and panties, she marched across the shop to the row of slips, and began searching through. Suddenly she stopped, and pulled out a light pink one, admittedly the right length, with a delicately scalloped hem, and a slit indecently high up one side.

"This is much better!" she exclaimed, and turned to the shop assistant. "She'll have this, as well as these."

She handed over all three garments to the bewildered woman.

"Liz!" I hissed. "That's far too expensive."

"My treat!" she announced, and pulled a wallet out of her tracksuit trousers, and prepared to pay.

I regretted giving in to her, and letting her come shopping with me then. Left to my own devices, I would got myself a plain white slip; now I was going to be stuck working through to Christmas wearing a really girly pink one. Still, I thought, looking at it, it was rather nice.

I shook this thought out of my head immediately. What Liz didn't realise was that Sylvia might see me wearing something like this as an encouragement. But it was too late by then; Liz was handing over her charge card to the assistant. The slip, as well as the bra and panties, were now mine.

I felt myself blush; Liz was bound to want me to wear the matching set, and even to see me in them. She'd then see how big my bum was, and that would really put her off. I was in a right pickle now.

She finished the purchase, and handed me the bag triumphantly. "There you go!" she exclaimed. "Brilliant. We might as well go back to the newspaper offices now, and see if Jenny's back."

As we left the shop, I rummaged around in my bag for the some money to give to Liz. I found the remaining £20 note, and pulling it out, offered it to her.

"What's that?" she asked.

"For you," I explained. "Towards the slip and stuff."

She laughed. "No, that's my treat."

I offered her the money again. "Please Liz, you can't spend that much on me."
"It's a pleasure," she replied. Then she grabbed my arm, and whispered to me; "If you really want to pay me back, then make sure you're wearing the bra and knickers next time we go out!"

I opened my mouth in horror; I had been expecting this, but not so quickly. "I don't always dress as a girl!" I protested.

Liz gave me a sideways glance. "I know that," she said, "what's that got to do with it?"

Did she really not understand? "Well I mean I don't generally wear a bra and knickers."

"But you can for me can't you?" she insisted, smiling. "You'll look drop dead gorgeous in them."

She looked intensely at me, with her winning smile, holding my arms, and towering above me. A large part of me just wanted to say yes, I would wear anything for her that turned her on; but a small part was begging me for time to think it over. "Well, we'll see," I replied eventually.

She looked disappointed, but nodded, and we set off back towards the newspaper office again. The same woman was behind the desk, but this time looked up with attention when we walked in.

"Oh Hi," she said brightly. "Jenny's back now. I'll tell her you're here." She disappeared for a while, and then came back with Jenny in tow.

"Hello you two!" she greeted us enthusiastically. "I'm so sorry about this morning! I got stuck covering a road traffic accident. It was just so gory! Come on through!"

We followed her through the narrow opening behind the desk, and into a different world of bustle. At least fifteen people occupied a huge open space, with computers and telephones all buzzing. Jenny led us through this maze, occasionally greeting one of the workers, and led us through to the back, where a small meeting room had been partitioned off.

"I'll just get Kelly," she announced. "She's our ace photographer!"

Liz and I sat down by a large rectangular table, and waited. A few moments later, Jenny reappeared with a shortish woman in a black trouser suit, carrying a large camera. "This is Kelly," she announced.

The woman looked first and Liz, and then at me. "Hi," she said at length; and then looking me up and down said, "and you must be Sarah!"

I felt uncomfortable under her gaze. "Steve actually," I mumbled.

Kelly continued her scrutiny for some moments, and then said to Jenny as if I wasn't there. "You were right, he's fantastic!"

"I told you so!" Jenny responded enthusiastically. "I mean, he looks good now, but you should have seen him yesterday, in his long frock."

"I can imagine!" Kelly responded.

"Well what's going to happen, " Jenny explained, "is that I'll ask you a few questions and stuff; just to get some background for the piece, and Kelly will take some shots as we go along."

Kelly nodded in agreement. "Sure. But maybe we'll need a bit of make up, because of the lights."

She went off to get a huge bag of cosmetics, and brushed around my face, while Jenny asked Liz a whole series of questions about the football team. As Kelly added some more blusher to me, Jenny's questions turned to the protest the previous year about girls wearing skirts. This seemed strange to me, but Liz answered the probing with alacrity.

Satisfied at last, Kelly took a couple of pictures of me. She then asked me to adopt a few poses as I sat; cupping my chin on my hands; looking wistfully over at Liz. Then the roles were reversed. Jenny moved over to me, and started asking questions about the contest; why had I decided to enter? What did it feel like to win, and so on.

Meanwhile Liz was complaining about having to wear make up. Eventually she gave in, and allowed Kelly to put a minimal amount on her.

Jenny asked me what I thought about women's rights; I assumed she was on about whether the contest was a protest of some sort about women being involved in beauty pageants and the like. I answered as best as I could. Liz had a few photos taken, and then, Jenny's questions being finished, Kelly took a good few shots of Liz and I together.

And then that was it; the great interview was over. Jenny thanked us for our time, and told us that the article should appear in the next week's edition. We were led back through the maze of desks to the tatty reception area, and out into the street.

"Well that's that done." Liz announced, looking at her watch. "What shall we do now?"

I thought we'd best get back to school. I knew that Sue would be worried about whether I was going to make it over to her house that night, and in a way, I was anxious to see Anita as well. I hadn't seen her since my triumph the day before, and somehow, with all this Liz business, I wanted to see her again.

Liz was a bit reluctant, but we went back to her car. Instead of going straight to school, however, she headed out of town a little way, and found a private lay by, where she stopped.

"I thought we were going back to school," I protested.

"We are," she said, smiling at me, "but we ought to have a little time to ourselves first. Don't worry, I'll get you back on time for your date with Sue."

"It's not a date," I grumbled.

"I know," she said, stroking my hair away from my face. "It's Sue Barnard isn't it?"

I nodded.

"Well that's good," Liz went on. "I know her sister, Andrea. She's on the football team. She can spy on you for me, and let me know if you get up to no good."

What a cheek, spy on me indeed! I gave her a playful thump on the shoulder. She caught my arm, and gently pushed it to one side, grinning all the time, and then leant forward to kiss me.

We had another long snogging session, which at times got pretty steamy. Eventually I managed to come up for air, and suggested it was time to get back to school. Reluctantly Liz agreed.

"So when am I going to see you again?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Well, you'll see me at school on Monday."

She pulled a face. "Can't I see you over the weekend then?"

I felt her need for another encounter and shared it. "I'm working tomorrow," I pointed out.

"What about in the evening?"

Oh God; this meant another confession. "I've promised to go out with Lawrence for a sort of celebration of how we did in the contest." I said.

"Just the two of you?" she asked.

I wondered whether to lie. "No," I replied at last. "The girls who helped us are coming along too."

Liz's face took on what I was now recognising as its jealous look.

"But we're all going as girls," I pointed out. "It's a girls' night out."

This didn't seem to appease Liz. I supposed that since she seemed to be all right about fancying me dressed as a girl, she couldn't see that other girls might have more of a problem about it.

"I've got football practice on Sunday," she went on. "I could see you in the evening though."

I thought about this. I was due to sleep over with Anita Saturday night, but by the evening, I should be back home, and dressed as a boy.

"Okay," I agreed. "Come around about seven or so."

"I will," she said enthusiastically. "We can go for another drive if you want. And remember, I want you to be wearing that bra and knickers I got you."

I pouted at her. "We'll see," I said. "I'll get a reputation if I wear girl's underwear too often you know."

"I'm not bothered about that," she responded, and bent over to kiss me again. I managed to stop this after about a minute or so, and she started the car up, and we drove to school.

Our farewell was excruciating. Neither of us really wanted to go, and we were restrained about snogging in school, especially as I was dressed as a schoolgirl. Eventually we managed to part, and I began to look around the building for Anita or any of the others.

Eventually I found them by the coffee machine. Anita gave me a funny look, but Sue and Nikki seemed pleased to see me.

"How did the interview go?" asked Sue, smiling.

"It was all right," I replied. "Nothing too difficult anyway."

"Did Liz enjoy it?" Anita asked testily.

"I don't know; you'll have to ask her yourself," I replied, a little taken aback.

We carried on chatting for half an hour or so, until it was time to go and catch the train. There was no doubt that something was bugging Anita. She hardly looked at me during the conversation, or on the station platform waiting for the train. This hurt me, but with all the others there, couldn't really do much about it.

She only deigned to speak to me again as we neared the final station. "So are we still on for tomorrow night?" she asked, pointedly.

"Yes," I replied. "Of course."

She nodded. "So what are you going to do? Come around to my place after you finish work?"

I looked at her, and wondered what this was all about. "If you're okay with that." I said eventually.
"Yes," she nearly spat. "It'll be fine."

As we left the train, she stomped off in a huff. Nikki chatted to Sue and I for a few minutes, and then we set off in opposite directions.

"What was wrong with Anita?" I asked Sue, as we walked towards her house.

"I don't know, but she was being a bit funny all day," Sue replied. "Maybe she's upset that you're not paying her so much attention as you usually do."

I thought about that; I supposed it was possible.

"Now, let me explain about tonight," Sue suddenly announced. "I've told my Mum about you being a boy," she said. "And my sister of course; she's a friend of Liz's."

"I know," I replied.

"But we haven't told poor Dad. We thought it might be a bit much for him," she giggled. "So when he's around, we'll have to watch ourselves a bit if that's okay."

"Sure," I said.

"Good. This is going to be so much fun! It's going to be good having another girl at work for a while!"

I looked across at her in puzzlement. "I'm not quite a girl," I said, quietly.

Sue clapped her hands across her mouth. "Oh I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say it quite like that. I just meant it will be good having someone my own age there."

We walked on in silence for a while, and eventually got to Sue's house. She opened the door, and we walked on through into the hallway.

"Hi Mum!" Sue shouted, "We're here."

Her mother, a short woman in her early forties came out of the kitchen, smiled at Sue, and then, looking around her, inspected me.

"And you must be Sarah," she said, after a pause.

"Yes; well, Steve actually," I mumbled.

"Of course." She moved around Sue to get a better view of me; I felt like something of a freak show. "Well, I think it's very brave of you for trying to be a girl."

"Thank you," I replied, for the want of anything else to say.

"You certainly look the part," she added, looking at my chest. "Yes, I don't think I would have known if Sue hadn't told me."

Sue smiled reassuringly at me from behind her mother. "He won the Womanless Beauty Contest!" she said.

Her mother looked me up and down again. "Well I'm not surprised. Nice to have you here Sarah," she said at last, as if I had passed some sort of test. "Why don't you two go and play some records or something while I get dinner ready. We normally eat at about half six when my husband gets home, if that's all right with you Sarah."

"Yes," I replied. "Oh, and by the way, is it all right if I ring my Mum to tell her I've arrived here safely?"

"Of course!" Sue replied.

I made my phone call, and then went up with Sue to her bedroom. I took off my boots, and with some prompting from Sue, my tights. She started to change out of her uniform, which made me a little embarrassed, and put on a pair of jeans and a simple white T-shirt.

"Aren't you going to change as well?" she asked me.

"Well I haven't really got anything to change into," I replied. "I've only got some boy's clothes, and the stuff for the shop tomorrow."

"Well I could lend you something," she offered. "Do you want to wear a skirt or some trousers?"

The question threw me. I wasn't used to being asked what I wanted to wear when I was being Sarah. "I don't mind," I said feebly.

"Well I don't want to be funny, but you might be better off with a skirt," Sue went on, and started to look through her wardrobe.

"I though you might say that," I muttered. "Everyone seems to prefer me in a skirt."

Sue turned around again, and cocked her head to one side. "Well it's not that," she said. "But to be honest we're not quite the same size. I'm not sure my trousers would fit you." She looked at me pityingly for a moment. "You're welcome to try, but I think I'm a good two or three sizes bigger around the hips than you."

I felt ashamed of myself. I had been so self-centred as to assume that the reason she wanted me to wear a skirt was to make me feel even girlier. As it was, she was actually thinking of my welfare.

"No, a skirt would be fine," I found myself saying. Sue dug out a long white cotton skirt, with an elasticated waistband, which I put on, and also a pale blue T-shirt with a high neck and no arms. I thought this made my chest look a bit prominent, but Sue assured me it was fine. She then put on a couple of records, and we listened to these while chatting about various of the people we knew.

What can I say about that Friday evening as Sue's? Looking back, it was one of the happiest of my life until then. Nothing in particular happened; we had dinner with her family, and her father was really polite to me. Her sister, Andrea, made a couple of pointed remarks over the meal, but it was done in jest rather than malice. After that we just spent the evening in her room. She gave me what she said was a facial, which involved smothering my face in slime, and we tried out lots of different make-ups. I learnt a lot that night from Sue about what worked and what didn't. At around half ten, her Mum came into the room, and showed me across to the guest bedroom, where I was going to sleep. Sue dug out an old nightie for me to wear; it was long and pale blue, and then I was left on my own to sleep. I drifted off, barely caring about the tribulations that might come with the morning and Sylvia's shop.

  

  

  

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