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Neighbours

by Sarah Bayen

Part Three

 

The next morning brought the worst news of the holidays so far. Andrea had at last written, and, seeing the envelope on the kitchen table, I eagerly picked it up, and ripped it open. I read it as if its contents could determine my fate for the rest of my life. She was settling down well in Glasgow, or some small place just outside it. She had made a few friends, and even had a boyfriend. I was amazed at this. None of us had had boyfriends before, not even Katy, and somehow Andrea had managed to acquire one within weeks of arriving in Scotland.

She went on about the weather, and the local places she had been to, and then the bombshell. She wasn't going to be able to come down for a week later in the summer. Things were too hectic up there for her Dad to get any time off to drive her back home; well, what used to be her home anyway. I was devastated. The return of Andrea was the one thing that had been keeping me going over the past fortnight or so, now it was not to be.

I spent the morning in mourning for my friendship. I read a couple of things, listened to the radio, and watched a bit of telly, but these were only distractions, I was in mourning. I was driving my Mum mad. It was cleaning up day, and not only was I totally unprepared to help, I kept getting in the way. In the end, having made a sandwich for myself, and eaten it, only to be shouted at for making a mess in the kitchen, I decided to get myself out of the house.

I half considered calling for Katy, but didn't. She could knock for me when she had come to her senses. Anyway, she was probably with that stupid boy who had stolen Andrea's house. Ha! I had taught him a lesson though, calling him Charlotte, and making him wear a skirt! He wasn't going to bother me any more, that was for sure. So in the end, making sure I had the padlock key, I decided to go off to the den. I could be alone there with my sorrow, surrounded by happier memories of Andrea.

I set off over the fields and into the little copse of trees that in happier days we had called a forest. It had served as a backdrop to Andrea, Katy and I being knights in shining armour, fighting dragons; as Sleeping Beauty's enchanted wood, when Katy slept in the den, and I tried to stop Andrea getting through to kiss her awake, and a thousand other games besides. Today, it was just a cluster of a few thin trees.

As I approached the den, I became aware of voices. I stopped, and approached cautiously. We weren't the only ones who had ever found the old shed; once, we had had to frighten off a group of boys from further down the village from us by pretending to be ghosts. Moving from the cover of one tree to the next, like some spy on the sort of television programmes my Dad loved, I moved closer and unseen. It wasn't any alien boys invading our sanctuary at all. The unseen speakers were Katy and that bloody John! I stayed hidden behind an old chestnut tree, and listened to their conversation, as they stood outside the door to the shed.

"You don't really have to put it on you know John," Katy was saying, her voice saccharine with sympathy. "Not when she's not here anyway. I don't need you to wear a skirt."

"It's all right," I heard him say. "I said I'd wear one whenever I came to the den, and I should stick to it."

"Well if you're sure."

"I'm sure," he went on. "Just give me a minute to put it on."

"Do you want me to go into the den, to give you some privacy?"

"No it's all right. I won't be a minute," he said.

I pressed myself against the tree, feeling its rough bark on my back. Well this was a turn up for the books. I really didn't think he'd be back again. I should have felt outraged, but a strange and delicious surge of power ran through me. Although I could not see him, at that very moment, not twenty yards away from me, a boy was putting on a skirt just because I had said so! A smile broke across my face for the first time that day. He was going to wear it, even though I wasn't actually there. God, I must have really got to him! How good it was to be able to influence the lives of others like this, to have them doing really silly things, just because you had told them to.

"I'll do it up for you," I heard Katy say. "There, done!"

"Thanks."

"Come on then John. Or should I say Charlotte!" They both giggled at this point.

"Come on, let's go in!" Katy continued, and I heard the door opening.

I didn't move for a while, I wanted to collect my thoughts. This was fantastic; the stupid boy had taken me so seriously that he had even come out here when he didn't know I was around, and obediently put on a skirt. It was fantastic. I had felt a similar surge of energy the day before, when he had first worn it. It was even better today, knowing he had been so in awe of me that he had put it on in my absence.

Then I remembered my latest demand of him, that he wear girl's knickers as well. God, I thought to myself, what if he was wearing them now, as I was standing there thinking! I shook myself for a moment. No, he couldn't have done. No boy would put on a pair of girl's knickers just to gain access to a shed! That was a preposterous idea! Well that was all well and good, I decided. If he didn't have girl's knickers on, I could tear him off a strip when I went into the den, and kick him out again.

But what if he did have some on? Where would he have got them? He would probably have borrowed a pair of Katy's, I supposed. I tried to imagine it. She tended to wear stupid frilly nylon ones, with patterns or frills, or sometimes bows on. If he was wearing a pair like that, my God, I really was powerful!

I stood there with my back against the tree considering all this. Either way, it seemed to me, I was the winner. He was wearing a skirt anyway, I knew that. I had made a boy wear a skirt two days in a row, good for me! Andrea would have been proud of me. Then, either he was wearing girly knickers, which would be twice as good, or, he wasn't, in which case I could tell him he wasn't trying hard enough, and kick him out of the den.

I was just about to walk across the clearing, when a third possibility came into my head. If I had persuaded him to be called Charlotte, and then to wear a skirt; and if I had then persuaded him to wear girl's knickers, what could I do to him next? Another delicious surge of power came over me, as I leant back to consider the possibilities. What else could I get him to do in the name of pretending to be a girl? What would he hate most of all, because that was how I could prove my power?

It wasn't easy, being a girl, to work out exactly what a boy would hate most about having to be a girl himself. The name, calling him 'she' and 'her', I had already done. And the most obvious bits about the clothes. What should be next in line? Some ideas flashed into my mind, and made me smile. He was going to rue the day he ever crossed swords with me! Once it was all over, I would just have to write to Andrea and tell her what I had done. She was going to think it was absolutely fantastic. Maybe I should get hold of a camera, and send her some photos of him! Now that would be the icing on the cake!

From that moment, my resolve changed. Rather than using all my energies to stop him coming into the den, I would redirect them towards making sure he did, but with more and more little bits and pieces of girlyness all the time. I would change from being the eviction queen to being someone who helped him in his reluctant quest to be a girl. Oh yes, that would be good. By the time he gave up, I'd have him looking and acting more like a girl than any of us, Katy included! With a huge grin on my face, I strode across the clearing to the hut, opened the door, and went in.

"Hi Katy," I said brightly, as they both turned to see who had come in, "And hi Charlotte! You look nice today." They were standing at the back by the shelves Andrea and I had put up, the ones with the books and photo albums on.

They both stared at me wide-eyed in shock at my sudden appearance. "Thanks," the boy nervously whispered.

I walked in, and sat myself down in my favourite armchair, and beamed at them. "So what are we doing today?"

"We were just going to finish off looking through the photos," Katy replied, suspiciously. "You sound in a better mood today."

"I am," I replied firmly. "And all because of Charlotte here!"

Katy looked at the boy, and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well," I said, standing up. "She's making such an effort to be a good girl isn't she? Do you know, when I came through the door just then, I thought to myself you'd never know that she used to be a boy."

I watched his face as I said this. He twitched from time to time at the appropriate words, and I felt yet another burst of my power over him.

"I am wearing knickers!" he suddenly splurted out.

Katy looked alarmed for a moment. They were obviously expecting me to carry on as I had been before. My new approach was flooring them entirely. "I'm sure you are!" I replied, still smiling.

"Did you want to see them?" he asked, pitifully.

I smiled again, and shook my head. "No. That's all right Charlotte. A pretty girl like you would hardly be wearing anything else would she?"

His eyes widened still further, and he glanced at Katy for reassurance or guidance, I wasn't sure.

"I leant him some of mine," she said, by way of explanation, looking intently at me for some reaction. I simply smiled back at her.

"That was nice of you," I said. "Come on then, let's see these photos!"

We spent the next half hour looking through the remaining three albums. As Katy turned the pages, I enthusiastically told Charlotte, as I called him pointedly, about them all. The fun of confusing him like this even took the edge off the poignancy of missing Andrea. His face gazed into mine, with worry and concern etched into his huge brown eyes, and I noticed that every time I called him Charlotte, he would look down at the floor, and flutter his preposterously long lashes in shame. I was loving it!

At last we had gone through all the photos, and we all sat down in the chairs, relaxing, and wondering what to do next. Katy was still suspicious however. "What's got into you all of a sudden?" she asked me. "You're being nice today. You've been a right cow recently."

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry," I said. "It was taking me a bit of time to get over Andrea leaving. And on top of that, it was my time of the month. You know all about that don't you Charlotte?" I went on, conspiratorially. He blushed beautifully, and fluttered his eyelashes once more.

Katy still looked suspicious, and I smiled at her as winningly as I could. "Apart from anything else, you're even being nice to John," she went on.

"John? Who's John?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"All right, Charlotte," she said, with a hint of petulance.

"Well of course I am!" I exclaimed. "She's lovely, aren't you Charlotte?" I reached over, and put a hand on his knee. His big brown eyes looked down at it in fear. After leaving it there slightly longer than necessary, I took it away again. "And now we're all girls together, we can have some fun!" I went on.

They still did not look at ease with my new enthusiasm for Charlotte's membership of the Wild Girls, and both of them shuffled uneasily in their seats. "I take it that you're satisfied about him pretending to be a girl now?" Katy asked me, with a note of anger in her voice.

"Yes!" I responded enthusiastically. "I mean, there's still some things we may be able to do to help her along a little bit, but she's certainly making the effort. Well done Charlotte!" I continued, in my best 'teacher' voice. The boy squirmed in front of me, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "But we don't need to worry about that now, do we?" I continued. "It's time to have fun!"

And fun we did have. Katy and I briefed him on the people at school, the pupils and the teachers. We told him about Miss Kelly, the headmistress, and how she always failed to catch us, despite knowing that it was us behind most of the mischief. We told him about Billy O'Neill, the school bully, who made everyone's life a misery, except for Andrea's, because Andrea was too clever for him.

And so passed the afternoon. Katy gasped when she looked at her watch, and told us we ought to be thinking about getting home for time. Smiling at each other, we reluctantly agreed.

"We had a really good time today," Katy said, with a note of surprise in her voice. "I'm so glad you're in a much better mood Jen."

"Well thank Charlotte not me," I replied. "She's so good at this pretending to be a girl, that it's made me forget all about Andrea." This was hardly true, but it made a pretty good story. I was already formulating plans for the next step in Charlotte's little journey, but they could wait until tomorrow.

"I'll just go and put my trousers back on," he said, quite matter-of-factly, as if all boys wore a skirt with their friends, and then had to change back later. He smiled at me winningly, and I smiled back.

"Okay," Katy responded, equally not fazed by the comment. "We'll be out in a minute." He walked out the door, and Katy and I stood up. "Thanks for being so nice to him," she said to me. "I'm really pleased you like him now."

I nodded keenly. "Yes. As long as she keeps pretending to be a girl, I'm happy."

She looked a little alarmed, and then smiled again. "It's important, what with me going on holiday next week. It'll be you two on your own here."

I had completely forgotten that Katy was off on holiday with her family. I had been too engrossed in mourning for Andrea to remember that my other friend was going to desert me too. But that fitted into my new plan perfectly! John was going to loose his little defender, and be entirely dependant on me for friendship; brilliant! I could get him to do so many girly things that he would forget how to be a boy! By the time Katy got back from her trip, she was hardly going to recognise him. We walked pleasantly enough back to our houses, and for my part, I watched some television, and idled away the rest of the day in quiet contentment.

I was determined that Charlotte should make another appearance the next day, and woke up unseasonably early, before calling for Katy, and dragging her out of bed for the day's fun. "Come on," I demanded, as she came to the door in a daze, "Let's get Charlotte, and get to the den!"

She rubbed her eyes. "Do you know what time it is?" she asked me. I did; it was half past eight, but there was no time to loose for my plans that day. I hurried Katy through her breakfast, and waited impatiently for her to get dressed. She eventually re-emerged wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt. She was also carrying a plastic bag.

"What's with the bag?" I asked her.

"It's Charlotte's skirt," she said, as I had expected her to, "and his knickers."

"I thought she had her own now," I said, with a false note of disappointment in my voice.

"Well they are her own," Katy stammered, obviously trying to cover up for her friend. "I'm just looking after them for her. She doesn't want her Mum finding them does she?"

Personally I thought it would be wonderful if the boy's mother found his skirt and knickers. What would she think of her darling little son then? Still, I was prepared to go along with things. "I suppose not," I agreed.

"I've had them washed as well," Katy went on. "He doesn't want to be wearing dirty knickers does he?"

"Certainly not," I agreed. "I tell you what though, have you got a bra she could borrow?"

"A bra?" Katy asked suspiciously.

"Yes," I went on. "I was just thinking, if she had nice boobs, it'd make it easier for her to pretend to be a girl wouldn't it?" Katy frowned at me, and I smiled back.

"Well I'm not sure she'd thank us for giving her a bra," she said eventually.

"Oh but come on Katy!" I pleaded. "She'll look a whole lot better with one won't she?"

"Well," Katy replied, still dubious. "I suppose so. All right, I'll get her one."

To my delight, Katy ran back upstairs, and came back down with a delightfully ridiculous bra. Rather than being practical, like the ones I liked, it was flimsy, pink and see-through. Getting John into that was going to be wonderful, and with Katy more or less convinced he should have one, the battle was half won.

We walked over the road to call him. I knocked loudly, and after a couple of seconds he came to the door, looking surprised to see me there with Katy. "Hi Charlotte!" I said enthusiastically loudly. He nervously glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone else in the house had heard his new name.

"Hi," he said nervously, and quietly. "Are we going off to the den again then?"

"Of course we are Charlotte!" I said, again louder than was necessary. "Where else would the Wild Girls go?"

His Mum came to the door. "Oh hello," she said to us. "Are you taking John out again today?"

"If that's all right," Katy said, and I nodded enthusiastically. The woman looked at us for a moment, and then smiled and nodded her agreement. "Don't be too late John," she said, "Your Auntie is coming at four."

"We'll make sure he's back by then!" I reassured her. He slipped on some trainers, shut the door behind him, and we made our way across the field to the forest.

As we approached the clearing, we stopped. "I suppose I'd better put my stuff on then," he said, with a note of resignation.

"Of course!" I responded. "And Katy's got a surprise for you today, haven't you Katy?"

He looked forlornly at his friend, who seemed a little hesitant to tell him of the new addition to his wardrobe.

"Come on Katy, don't keep poor Charlotte in suspense! Tell her what you've got for her!" I urged.

Katy bit her lip before speaking, and looked into the bag, rather than at the boy. "Well," she began, hesitantly. "We thought it might be an idea if you wore, or at least tried on." She stopped, and looked helplessly across at me.

"Come on," I urged her again. "Tell her!"

"Tell me what?" the boy asked.

"Well," she began again. "We just wondered whether it wouldn't be a bit better for you to wear, well, a bra."

The shock on his face was priceless. "A bra?" he stuttered.

Katy nodded glumly. "We just thought it would help you feel more like a girl I suppose," she went on hesitantly, by way of explanation.

"Yes," I added. "I mean, you are thirteen like us. A girl your age should be wearing a bra, shouldn't she Katy?"

Katy looked at me dubiously, and shrugged. She turned to the boy. "You don't mind do you?" she asked, with a nauseating solicitude. "I suppose Jen's right in a way. It probably would make you better at being a girl."

The boy looked at her, the initial shock gradually leaving his face, and being replaced by a look of resignation. "No, it's all right," he said, holding out his hand for the bag. "If you think it would be better, then I'll put it on."

"Excellent!" I exclaimed. "That's a girl Charlotte!"

His big brown eyes threw me a look of despair, and Katy handed him the bag. "I tell you what," she said. "Would you like me to help you put it on? Like I did with the skirt? It's a bit difficult if you're not used to it."

He smiled wanly and nodded his head. He held the bag out to Katy, and she fished around, and then pulled the pink flimsy article out. I watched on in excited anticipation.

"You'd better take your T-shirt off," Katy advised, and the boy almost immediately did so, revealing a thin and bony torso. The thrill of power was getting to me once more, and I could feel my breathing getting shallower. Any second now, because of me, this boy was going to put on a bra, and a pink one at that.

Katy went around to the back of him, and fussed for a moment, before slipping the bra over his obediently held-out arms, and pulling it into place. My face had ached from the grin that forced itself onto my features at the excitement of the moment. The boy was helpless against doing whatever I wanted him to, and, by feigning friendship, I had neutralised his only ally, Katy.

She played with the straps a little before doing it up. "You don't want it all twisted," she muttered to him, with a note of sorrow in her voice. "It would be uncomfortable."

Then she fastened the clasp, and there it was, fantastic! He was actually wearing a bra! I leant against a tree to view him. Katy was still fussing with the straps, it appeared he was thinner than her, and the bra didn't quite fit properly. But I didn't mind, this was brilliant. He looked down dolefully at the pink gossamer cups that now straddled his chest, as if not quite believing what he had got himself talked into; wonderful!

"Does it feel all right?" Katy asked him, coming around to his front.

He gingerly felt the sides. "It's all right," he said, hoarsely. "Does it look okay?"

She nodded, and smiled at him. "You look a bit flat I suppose," she told him, "but it looks pretty good. What do you think Jen?"

My excitement was such that I could hardly speak, so I just nodded, and managed to mutter, "Fine."

"You can put your T-shirt back on now," Katy suggested, and with a nod, he did so. Not that it did him much good. You could easily see the outline of the bra under his white T-shirt, proclaiming to anyone who saw him that he was entirely under my control. He glanced across at me, and gave me a rather worried smile. I was still grinning manically at him, which seemed to unnerve him rather pleasingly.

He began to unbuckle his jeans. In the thrill of seeing him put on a bra, I had almost forgotten that he had other things to put on yet. He stepped out of his trousers, and rather fussily folded them, and put them into the plastic bag. He then got out his little blue pleated skirt, and stepped into it, before pulling it up, and fumbling behind himself, doing it up.

"You're getting good at that," Katy told him. He smiled at her, and glancing anxiously at me, turned a little sideways, and slipped his hands under his skirt. In a few seconds, his boxer shorts emerged from beneath the hem, and he stepped out of them delicately. My grin became ever broader, if that was possible. What a little wimp he was! With hardly any fight, he had slipped himself into a bra and skirt, just because I had told him to, and now, he was about to put on a pair of knickers.

I hadn't seen what he had worn the previous day. I had decided then to take it on trust that he was wearing proper girl's knickers, as he and Katy asserted he was. It was therefore a bit of a shock when I saw what he pulled out of the bag. My God! Katy couldn't have picked him a girlier pair if she had tried. I had sort-of assumed she'd have picked him out something fairly androgynous, something plain and relatively sober patterned, but no! These were something else. As I looked at them, open-mouthed, I realised that they matched his bra, the same slinky pink see-through nylon. A matching bra and panty set, my God, this was fabulous.

He looked at them grimly, and hesitated for a second, before stepping into them, and rather elegantly slipping them on under his skirt. I felt as if I had been electrocuted, as waves of excitement ran through me. Some of this must have shown on my face, because he looked across at me rather anxiously, and I felt myself trembling against the tree on which I was leaning.

"Are you all right Jen?" he asked, with sincere concern.

Unable to speak, I nodded in reply, unable to take my eyes off him, and even more so, the picture in my imagination those knickers clasped around his manhood.

"Right, we're all ready then. We can go in," Katy said, matter-of-factly, seemingly unaware of the sublime significance of him wearing knickers. "You okay Jen?"

"Yes," I hissed, tearing myself away from the support of the tree, and standing a little unsteadily.

"Charlotte looks nice, doesn't she?" she prompted me.

My eyes were riveted to his slender frame, and the obvious outline of his pink bra. I opened my mouth to speak, but no sounds came out. I managed to nod, and rip my eyes from his, which were returning my gaze. Katy unlocked the shed door, and we went in.

  

  

  

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