The Contest Beginnings

by Sarah Bayen

Skirting the Issue

  

The sound of the doorbell echoed around the hallway as Anita stared into my eyes.

"That'll be Nikki, back with your shoes. I'd better let her in." With that the magic of the moment passed, and Anita walked over to the door and out into the hall. I cursed my luck as she disappeared, and glared upwards at the heavens for being so unkind.

"Oh hi!" I heard her say, "Come on in."

"Sorry I was so long, I hope I haven't missed much." I heard Nikki say. Then Anita walked back into the room, smiling, followed by Nikki, and to my sudden horror someone else. It was Maxine, Nikki's elder sister. I had no time to hide.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed as she saw me. I grimaced. She was tall and elegant, dressed in smart jeans and a T-shirt. I knew her vaguely through Nikki, but being two years older than us, had never had a lot to do with her.

"I told you he looked good," Nikki said, with a triumphant grin on her face.

"Good isn't the word!" declared Maxine, staring at me in wonder. "I would never have guessed he was a boy, not in a million years!"

"Do you like him?" asked Anita eagerly.

"Like him? I don't know about that," Maxine went on, "He looks more like a her than a him for a start."

Nikki and Anita both laughed at this observation.

"He doesn't just look like a girl," she went on, "he looks like a really pretty one, that's what gets me."

"I know," giggled Anita.

"And he looks, I don't know, so delicate somehow," Maxine continued, appraising my appearance from the doorway; "a bit vulnerable I suppose."

"Like all girls should!" declared Nikki, still laughing. "Well last time I saw him he didn't have the jumper or the tights on. They definitely make a difference."

"Yes," agreed Anita.

"He's got gorgeous legs," Maxine observed, looking down at me; "I'd kill for legs like that."

"Any girl would!" agreed Anita. "We've already told him it's a crime to keep legs like that locked away in trousers."

"Yes," agreed Maxine.

"He should wear a skirt all the time; I would if I had legs like that."

"Yes," Maxine agreed again.

"Did you bring around some shoes then?" Anita asked Nikki.

"Yes, I've left the bag by the door. I've brought three pairs around. He'll need something a bit glamorous for the formal round as well as something practical for the school uniform."

"Oh good!" declared Anita. "Well, we might as well get on. Are you staying to help Max?"

"No," she responded, to my relief. "I've got to get off to work."

"Oh that's a shame," Anita told her.

"Well needs must. Still, I'm glad I popped in. It's not every day you see someone as beautiful as this." After a pause she turned back into the hall, "Okay then, best of luck with finishing him off. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you Max," Nikki said, and Maxine walked back through the door, and out into the street.

Nikki circled me, looking at the changes that had occurred since she had left. "Those tights look fabulous on him," she declared eventually. "Still, we knew his legs were good."

"Yes," agreed Anita, "and if you look, they've more or less got rid of his bulge problem."

"Let's see," said Nikki, moving to my side, "Oh yes, although the other pair of knickers helps as well. Yes, you wouldn't know he had anything untoward there now would you?"

"No," agreed Anita, beaming. I could feel myself blushing furiously. "Now let's see, what's next? Oh I know what he needs; a slip!"

"Yes of course, " said Nikki, smiling. "That's just the thing."

"I sorted him one out, hang on, I'll go and get it." Anita rushed purposefully across to the dreaded bags by the window.

"What's a slip?" I asked, genuinely ignorant of what a slip might be.

"Don't you know?" responded Nikki incredulously.

"No, I'm not an expert on girl's clothes." I said, defensively.

"It's just something you wear under your skirt," Nikki said, by way of explanation, although I was no clearer.

"This," said Anita from over by the window, "is a slip!" She held up a small white nylon skirt, with a scalloped hem interspaced with pink rosebuds.

"It's a petticoat!" I exclaimed.

"Well sort of," responded Anita, bringing the garment over to me. "Here you go, put this on. You'll look sweet in it."

"Yeah," agreed Nikki.

"I'm not wearing a petticoat!" I exclaimed. "That's outrageous!"

"But you have to!" said Anita, with a pleading tone to her voice.

"What do you mean I have to?" I demanded. "I bet you never wear one!"

"I do sometimes," Anita said, a little petulantly. "I haven't got on one at the moment, admittedly, but I am wearing jeans after all."

"Yeah, me too," added Nikki.

Anita held out the slip, but I refused to take it. This was going to far, trying to put me in a petticoat. "Well I'm not wearing that. It's far too feminine."

"They don't make butch petticoats," Nikki told me, defiantly. "You'll have to put up with it."

I stared at the offending piece of clothing in Anita's hands. "I can't see what use wearing something like that could possibly be. You're just doing it to humiliate me even more!"

"No we're not Steve," said Anita more gently. "Petticoats and slips make your skirt hang better."

"That's right," agreed Nikki. "You remember we were telling you about VPL earlier?"

I nodded sullenly.

"Well, wearing a slip puts and end to that."

"That's right," agreed Anita, enthusiastically. "And I'm sure you don't want VPL do you?"

I shrugged, "It might be better than having to wear a petticoat."

"Oh it wouldn't, believe me!" responded Anita.

"And another thing," went on Nikki, "it'll get rid of the last vestige of your bulge problem. You'll be able to wear a much tighter skirt than you would otherwise.

"Whoopee," I responded sarcastically.

"Nikki's right Steve," Anita carried on; "you'll look much better in your skirt with a slip underneath. No doubt about it."

This was turning out just like the argument about whether I should wear girl's knickers or not. I had no logical argument to counter theirs. Still something inside me rebelled at the thought of wearing a girl's petticoat.

"Well I don't want to wear it." I stated bluntly.

The two girls looked at me with concern on their faces. There was silence for some time, and then Anita admitted, "Well we can't make you."

"No," Nikki agreed. I looked from one to the other; could it be true that I had convinced them that I needn't wear the petticoat?

"You'll have to put up with your skirt riding up though," Nikki added eventually, looking thoughtfully at me.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well," she began, "if you wear a skirt without a slip; especially an unlined one, it'll ride up."

"That's true," added Anita. "It's a real sod."

I waited for a moment, but nothing more by way of explanation was offered. "What do you mean by riding up?"

"Well," said Anita, "your tights will sort of build up static electricity."

"Because they're nylon," added Nikki.

"And that makes the skirt ride up, you know, up your legs."

"Yeah," agreed Nikki. "Which is fine, if you don't mind people seeing your knickers every five minutes."

"True," agreed Anita. "I can see you'd be very proud of how good you look in them, but it's not very ladylike to keep flashing them about."

"No," agreed Nikki, giggling.

I thought about this for a bit. "So you're saying that unless I wear a petticoat,"

"A slip," corrected Anita.

"All right, a slip. Unless I wear a slip, my knickers are going to show?"

"That's about the size of it," agreed Nikki.

"You can keep pulling your skirt down all the time instead," suggested Anita, "but it's a bit of a fuss."

"Yeah, especially if you forget," added Nikki.

I looked from one to the other. The last thing I wanted was for my knickers to be on show, especially as they had convinced me to wear girl's knickers. I shuddered at the thought. It was going to be bad enough to be on stage dressed as a girl, but for my skirt to start riding up and show everyone I was wearing girl's knickers would be far worse. Wearing a skirt would make me a bit of a joker; wearing knickers just made me a sissy. They could see my resolve beginning to weaken.

"Come on Steve, it'd be far better to wear the slip," urged Anita.

"Yeah, and it'll help you feel more girly," added Nikki.

This alarmed me; "I don't want to feel more girly than I already do."

"Oh Steve we've been through this before," said Anita, with her exasperation evident in her voice; "you have to feel girly to be able to carry this off properly."

"Yeah," agreed Nikki without hesitation. "The more girly you feel the more girly you'll act."

"And the more girly you act, the more likely you are to win!" said Anita, by way of completion.

I looked again at the slip Anita was holding. They were right enough in one thing; I would certainly feel girly wearing that. It was made from smooth nylon, and apart from the scalloping, the pretty pink flowers around the hem made it about as girly as anything could be. But my mind raced to the alternative; to have my knickers exposed as I walked onto the stage. Surely that would be worse.

"Go on Steve, at least give it a go," urged Anita again, her blue eyes looking pleadingly at me.

There was silence again as I was torn between the two horrors facing me. Slowly, almost involuntarily, my hand began to move to take the petticoat off Anita. She obviously sensed this, even though I urged it to stop.

"I'll hold it out for you," she said eagerly, holding the waistband of the slip at knee level in front of me. "All you have to do is step into it."

"It won't bite you," Nikki assured me. I glared at her for a second, and then back at the open waist of the petticoat. My foot, trembling, began to lift, and slowly, I put it into the open mouth. Even slower, I raised the other foot, and stepped right into the garment. It was done; I was in it.

Anita looked up at me with delight on her face, and raised the thing right up under my jumper, while Nikki looked on fascinated. She turned it around a little, and then stepped back. They both looked at me for a few moments, and then burst out laughing.

"Oh Steve you look adorable," squealed Anita between laughs. "Absolutely adorable!"

"It looks like a little tutu," exclaimed Nikki, equally helpless with laughter. "He looks like a little ballerina!"

"Yes," agreed Anita, obviously delighted with the thought, "either that or a little fairy princess!" This caused renewed laughter. I tried to look down at myself to see what all the fuss was about, but couldn't really see anything, other than the hem of the slip five or six inches below my groin.

"You look so good in it," Anita declared "it's really fantastic."

"It suits you, even more than the knickers did." Nikki added.

"Yes, you're a natural for this girly stuff," Anita went on. "To be honest, I always feel a bit awkward in a slip, but you look gorgeous in one!"

"Yes, " agreed Nikki. "I don't know what it is, but the more feminine things are, the more they seem to suit you!" Again they both laughed loudly at this.

I was going scarlet with shame as their teasing continued.

"Just look at him," declared Anita. "There's no way you'd think he was a boy now is there?"

"No," agreed Nikki. "No way on earth."

"God Steve, you make such a beautiful girl, I love it!" announced Anita, and with that, she ran across the room, put her arms around me, and pecked me on the cheek. I blushed even deeper at this. The woman I loved thought I made a beautiful girl. Surely that meant she would never be mine.

Anita beamed at me, as I stood there embarrassed. Nikki looked on from across the room, and thankfully made no move to embrace me as Anita had.

"Well you know what's next," Anita announced. "All you need now is your skirt and you'll be the complete schoolgirl"

"Yes," agreed Nikki.

I didn't say anything. Having failed to resist the pressure to wear knickers and a slip, I knew that it would be hopeless to attempt to avoid a skirt.

"I've sorted him one out," Anita went on. "You know, that nice black one I wear to school sometimes."

Immediately a vision of Anita in the skirt in question came to my mind. It was short and simple, but on her it created a picture of irresistible desirability.

"The trouble is," continued Anita, "I've got a feeling it might be too short. What did the rules say again? You know, about how many inches above the knee skirts were supposed to be?"

"I don't know. I've forgotten," Nikki responded. "Hang on, let's have another look." She walked over to the pile of paper on the coffee table, and eventually found the list of uniform rules. She perused them for a moment. "Ah, here we are," she said at last. "No more than eight inches above the knee."

"Hmm, that's a bit of a problem. I think the black one's shorter than that."

"Well let's have a look," suggested Nikki.

Anita went over to the bags by the window, and produced a skirt from them. I recognised it well from the times I had lusted after Anita in it. She held it up in front of her to have a good look. "Well I don't know," she said after some time. "It's a bit touch and go isn't it?"

"Yes," agreed Nikki. "Have you got a tape measure?"

"There's one in the top drawer over there," Anita answered, pointing to the wall unit down by the dinning room.

"Let's try it against him and see," suggested Nikki, going to the unit, and getting out the tape measure.

"Okay," agreed Anita. She walked over to me, holding the skirt in front of her, and without further ado held it up against me. She giggled. "You'll look really good in a skirt Steve!"

Nikki giggled too. "Okay, let's see how short it really is."

"It won't hang exactly like this when he's got it on," Anita said, with her head slightly tilted in consideration "It'll probably be a little shorter."

"Yes," agreed Nikki. "Still, it's only five or six inches above his knee anyway. We might just get away with it."

"It'll be close," agreed Anita, "still, it's worth a try."

"Yes," agreed Nikki. "We can always measure it again once he's got it on."

"Okay, let's get it on you then Steve," Anita said, lifting the skirt away from the front of me, and smiling sweetly. "Have you ever worn one before?"

"A skirt?" I spluttered. "No, of course not."

"Oh well that's good!" she exclaimed. "Then this is going to be a bit like loosing your virginity!"

Nikki giggled. "Not that you'd know much about that Steve!"

Anita giggled too, and I was furious. "I might know more about it than you think," I said darkly. "Anyway, I can't see how wearing a skirt can be like loosing your virginity."

"All I meant was that at the moment you're a person who's never worn a skirt," explained Anita, "but once you've got this on, you'll never be one of those again!" She and Nikki giggled at the concept.

"Yes," agreed Nikki. "Once you've worn a skirt, you'll never be quite the same."

"No," agreed Anita. "It's sort of like a badge or something."

"Yeah," added Nikki. "You're not really a girl until you've worn a skirt."

"No," went on Anita, "and once you've worn one, some little bit of you will always be wearing it." They both continued to giggle, while I again blushed furiously.

"Come on then Steve, let's see it on you!" Anita urged, enthusiastically. As she had done with the slip, she opened it up, and held it in front of me, inviting me to step in.

I grimaced as I looked at it, gaping in front of me.

"Come on Steve," encouraged Nikki, "it's not going to hurt you."

"No," agreed Anita. "Come on, one small step for a man, one giant leap for womankind." Both the girls laughed at this, and Anita dropped the skirt for a moment. She picked it up again, and struggled to compose herself. "Right, in you get Steve," she said eventually, holding it back in place.

Still I hesitated. Their teasing comments had unnerved me. Could it really be true that once I put on the skirt something fundamental would change? I dismissed this as nonsense, although the doubts remained, and with some trepidation, I lifted one leg, and stepped into the inviting waistband.

"And the other leg!" urged Nikki impatiently. "It's not going to eat you for goodness sake!"

Reluctantly, I moved my other leg forward so I was standing right inside the skirt.

"Excellent!" declared Anita, and she proceeded to lift the skirt up my legs. I could feel it against my skin, even through the tights I was wearing. Still higher the skirt rose, over my knees and upwards.

"You're going to mess up his slip, but never mind," said Nikki.

Anita lifted the skirt ever upwards, over my hips, and up to my waist. It was now on me.

"Oh you look delightful!" declared Nikki, giggling in front of me.

"Hang on, I need to do it up for you," said Anita, and with this, she moved around behind me, and lifted the skirt up even higher. "Breathe in," she commanded. I did as she asked, and the straps on the bra held me tight across the ribs. She fiddled for a moment, presumably with a button or something, and then pulled up the zip. "There," she announced triumphantly. "You're wearing your first skirt!"

"And very nice you look too!" said Nikki, appraising me intensely.

"I'll just sort out your slip for you," Anita said, moving around to the front again. She lifted the hem of the skirt a little, and pulled on the silky nylon slip. I felt it move against my bottom, and straighten as it did so. "There, that'll do," Anita said. She backed away a little, "Now let's have a look at you."

"He looks really good," Nikki told her, before she was in place to look.

"Oh I say!" said Anita, holding a hand to her mouth. "You look absolutely adorable! God, that skirt looks better on you than it does on me!"

They both began to giggle again. "He certainly is a natural," observed Nikki.

"Yes," agreed Anita enthusiastically. "You look so good in a skirt Steve, you ought to wear one all the time!"

"I agree," added Nikki.

"How does it feel," Anita asked me, "to be wearing a skirt then? Do you like it as much as it likes you?" They both giggled again before I could reply.

I could feel the skirt against my thighs, a band of material where I was not used to having one. I imagined that it would be very restrictive. "It feels odd." I mumbled.

"Well it doesn't look it," Anita went on. "You look as if you've been wearing a skirt all your life, doesn't he Nikki?"

"Yes," Nikki agreed, laughing. "Don't worry Steve, you'll soon get used to the feel."

"Yeah," Anita added, encouragingly. "Turn around so we can see what you look like from the back as well," she urged.

I stared at her, and saw her looking back at me defiantly. Tossing my head in what I hoped would be a nonchalant gesture, I turned around. All the gesture achieved was that the bunches in my hair swung wildly as I rotated.

"Oh that looks marvellous!" declared Anita, as soon as my back was towards her.

"Yes," agreed Nikki. "He's got such a lovely little bum." With this they both giggled.

"That's true," Anita concurred. "It looks perfect in a skirt." The giggled some more, and after a few moments I turned around to face them again. I felt strangely vulnerable standing with my back to them, and was pleased to end the ordeal.

"Try walking around a bit," suggested Nikki. "Let's see if you can walk in a skirt properly."

"Good idea," agreed Anita. I grimaced in response.

"Come on Steve, it's important," she continued. "Some of the marks in the contest are for deportment after all."

"That's right," agreed Nikki. "You'll have to learn to walk nicely to do well in the contest."

"Yeah," added Anita in assent.

With some reluctance, I agreed, and hesitantly began to move forwards.

"Not bad," said Anita, "but try and make it look more natural."

"Yeah," agreed Nikki.

I began to walk a little faster, which made the skirt whip around my thighs, restraining them from too big a step.

"Don't stride out too much," advised Anita. "It's not ladylike."

"No," added Nikki.

I walked up and down the room a few times, while they watched me critically.

"Well he's not bad I suppose," Nikki observed eventually. "But he definitely needs some practice."

"Definitely," agreed Anita. "You look fabulous in a skirt Steve, but you need to move in one like you've been wearing it for ever to win the contest."

"That's right," agreed Nikki.

"Well I can't see that happening," I snapped. "The contest's only next week. I can't see me becoming an expert that quickly."

"It might not take that long," Anita responded. "It's not that difficult after all."

"And you'll need to practice walking in your boots as well."

"Boots?" observed Anita, noticing as I had done that Nikki had not said shoes.

"Yes, didn't I say?"

"No," said Anita. "Have you got him a pair of boots to wear then?"

"Well yes," Nikki continued, a little embarrassed. "I've brought some shoes over as well, but I thought it might be quite fun to see what he looked like in boots."

"Oh yes!" Anita said with considerable enthusiasm. "A nice pair of kinky boots! You'll look good in those Steve!"

"Well, they're not really kinky," Nikki responded, almost with an apologetic note to her voice. "Hang on, I'll get them and show you." She went out into the hallway, where I assumed she had dumped the shoes when she had come in with Maxine. Not long afterwards she came back in carrying a pair of black zip up knee-length boots. I recognised them as a pair she wore to school sometimes. Nikki may not have been as attractive as Anita, at least to me, but I had to admit she had good and expensive tastes in clothes.

"Oh I like those!" Anita exclaimed enthusiastically. "I've always wanted a pair myself. Still, they should look good on Steve!"

"Yes, I hope so," said Nikki. She looked at me. "Well, here you are then. Try these on. They're a size six, that's what you said you were isn't it?"

I nodded in response, and cursed the heavens for not making my feet any bigger. Nikki strode purposefully over to me, and handed me the boots. They were heavier than I imagined, even though they were made of PVC rather than leather. I looked at the heel. It was about two inches high. "I'll never be able to walk in these!" I exclaimed. "They've got high heels!"

"They're not that high," responded Nikki, defensively. "Anyway, that's the point of having the practice isn't it? So you can get good at wearing them."

There wasn't much I could say in response to that. I stared at the boots some more, and put them down on the ground in front of me, ready to step into them.

"You might be better off sitting down to put them on," Anita suggested. "Go and sit in your make-up chair, that would be better."

I stared at her for a moment. My make-up chair, what a odd description. I shrugged, picked up the boots, and walked off to where the dinning table was. I sat myself down on one of the chairs, indeed the chair where I had had my make-up done, and put the boots down in front of me.

"Steve!" exclaimed Anita, "You can't sit like that. Not in a skirt anyway!"

"Oh God no!" said Nikki in agreement. Then she giggled, "We can see your knickers and everything!"

I looked down at my legs, wondering what they were talking about, and then suddenly realised. I hunched over, and pulled my knees in together. "It's not my fault." I stammered. "It's this skirt, it's too short."

They looked at me strangely for a moment, then Anita said "Oh God, we forgot to measure it didn't we?"

"Yes, we got carried away in the excitement," agreed Nikki.

"Well it doesn't matter," went on Anita, "it's probably better if we measure it with his boots on anyway."

"Yeah."

"And anyway Steve, it's not that short. We just need to teach you how to sit down properly in a skirt."

"That's right," affirmed Nikki. "Practice makes perfect."

"Don't worry about it just now," went on Anita, "just get your boots on, and we'll get on to deportment lessons later."

Still in my huddled position, determined not to show my knickers off to them again, I struggled to put the first of my legs into one of the boots. Given my new found modesty, this proved a little difficult, but eventually I managed it. I cursed silently to myself as my foot slipped in, and, as Nikki had promised, it was more or less a perfect fit.

"That's the idea," Anita said encouragingly. "Now do the zip up."

I leant to the side to try and get to the zip without revealing any underwear. A titter from Nikki told me I had failed.

"This is good," she commented. "I've spent a lifetime with boys trying to look up my skirt. Now the tables have turned." She and Anita laughed at this, while I struggled to get the zip up. Eventually it budged.

"Mind you don't get it caught in your tights," Anita warned me. "You don't want to ladder them."

I got the zip all the way to the top, and felt the PVC of the boot encase the bottom half of my leg. It felt very odd.

"Now the other one!" encouraged Anita.

Shuffling in my seat to adjust my position, I caught hold of the other boot, and put my leg into it. Without realising it, my legs had drifted apart a little.

"Knickers Steve!" warned Anita giggling.

Cringing with embarrassment, I brought my knees closer together, and pulled at the other zip. It took some effort to move, but eventually I managed it, and then both my legs were done.

"Oh they look nice!" observed Anita. "Stand up Steve so we can see properly."

Slowly, unsure of how the heels would make me react, I stood.

"Oh you sexy little minx!" declared Anita, laughing. "You really look the part now, doesn't he Nikki?"

"Very nice," agreed Nikki. "Very nice indeed."

"Hang on though," said Anita, suddenly, and rushed to the back of me. She began brushing at my skirt. She giggled, and then said, "Standing up can be almost as big a problem as sitting down in a short skirt Steve!"

"He's very keen on showing his knickers," observed Nikki, "we'll have to try and drum that out of him."

"Well he's probably very proud of them," laughed Anita.

"No I'm not," I said, rather forlornly. I felt a little unsteady on my feet, balanced on the heels of the boots, and oddly tipped forward. I stood stock still, while the girls wandered around me, looking at me from all angles.

"Well you certainly look the part," said Nikki eventually. "There's no way anyone is going to think you're a boy."

"No," agreed Anita. "I just hope we haven't made such a good job that he'll get disqualified or something."

"Yes," agreed Nikki. "He looks so good that they might just think he's a real girl entering for a laugh."

"Still realism must count for something," Anita went on. "Do you know I think he'd stand a good chance in a real beauty contest? You know, one with real girls in." They both giggled again at this.

"Poor Steve," said Nikki. "One of the prettiest girls we know, and you've got the misfortune to be a boy!" Again, they collapsed into heaps of laugher at this.

"We'd best not forget to measure the skirt though," said Anita, suddenly remembering. "If it's too short, we'll have to go in for a rethink."

"Yes," agreed Nikki. "Now where did I put that tape measure? Oh there it is!" She went over to the coffee table to pick it up. "Right let's see how short it really is."

Nikki bent down in front of me with the tape measure in her hands. I shut my eyes and stood up as tall as I could in the boots. I figured that maybe that way the skirt would be even shorter. Nikki placed one end on the centre of my knee, and began measuring the distance to the hem of my skirt. I silently prayed that she would utter the number nine, or even ten. I was unnerved by the constant references to me showing my knickers, and figured that if I could have a skirt that was even just a little bit longer, it would be less of a problem. No one would need to know that I had been cajoled into wearing girl's knickers. "Please God," I said in my head. "Nine inches, please!"

"Seven and three quarters!" declared Nikki with obvious delight. "That's perfect."

"Brilliant!" agreed Anita. "That means we've got him in the shortest possible legal skirt. Fantastic!"

I cursed God silently, and opened my eyes again. There was to be no respite to my shame.

"Now, what do we need to do next?" asked Anita.

"Oh God, not more!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," declared Nikki. "We've got your whole formal for the final to sort out yet."

"Yeah," agreed Anita, "and we need to accessorise you a bit too, even for this round."

"Accessorise?" I asked.

"Yes," she responded. "Just a bit of jewellery really, but it could make a difference."

"Yes," agreed Nikki. "And we really ought to sort out what we're going to do about getting your deportment right. We can't have you losing marks on that for no good reason."

"I agree," said Anita. "Anyway, shall we sort out his jewellery first?"

"Okay," said Nikki. "I'll go and get the stuff I dug out for him."

  

  

  

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