It all started with my family

By Estarriol

It all started with my family, as such things often do. My sister was a leading actress (elongate the word for how she pronounced it) in the local Amateur Dramatic society, with pretensions to move on up. Anyway, Mum was also involved as an actress, and I at their behest, ‘we need the help, you’ll get out and meet people, your new years resolution was to get out and meet people you know!’ (Families, quoting back the things you say) I helped out backstage and set building and stuff with dad. No pretensions to act in me, happy to be a worker drone behind the scenes. In fact I was spending much of the time with Dave (sound) and Ivor (lighting) learning the technical side and being happy to climb ladders and recite lines etc. for them to test their set ups.

This year in the lead up to Christmas the Spendiham Players were doing a Panto, and had even been persuaded to do a run of matinees for local schools to attend, so instead of the three nights and a Saturday Matinee, we were running for a whole week, five matinees and three evening performances. It had taken the cast a bit of juggling to get the time off but they had managed, in the lead up it felt like a real Professional Company production instead of our usual shambling through!

All was good, even had a serious reviewer from the local city paper do a write up on us, and tickets were a hot item. Hell we might even make a profit from the show itself, not just the refreshments and programmes, seats on bums normally just covering the Hall rental and things.

So all was good until the Saturday before, when chief utility actor and general dogsbody Mark broke his leg playing rugby…. The news was heard about an hour before the final dress rehearsal, while I Dave and Ivor were doing final technical things ready for them, I was up the lighting tower adjusting a spot onto the stage to Ivor’s satisfaction, the last chance before we dissembled the scaffold tower to get it out of the way of seating.

Anyway I climbed down the tower and there was sis, and mum, and, well most of the cast. Uh Oh, this wasn’t good, what had I done now?

It turned out I had not done anything, it was doing something that was about to be discussed. Mark was out of the show, would I kinda, like, you know, maybe, fill in….. I looked at them, they were serious. So I agreed. He had no spoken lines that I remembered but was Pirate 2, the Gorilla, The Butler and something else, cameo fill ins to keep him busy when there wasn’t really a bigger part for him.

So dragged into the dressing rooms, and dressed, I’ll tell you something, a group of three Ladies ordering you around like Sgt Majors as clothes went on, off, back on, had its definite moments. Pirate on, loose but ok, Gorilla suit fine, Butler, need better trousers but the tailcoat is fine and then the final outfit, where my not checking first came back to bite me. The Fairy, summoned to finish off the play.
Now I was never the manliest of men, and despite being twenty, I didn’t really chase girls, yes I had asked girls out and been asked out, smooched and danced and fumbled etc., more because it was expected than anything else, but something had always been missing. When attraction had raised its head it had been with androgynous types, I wouldn’t say I was Gay or Bi, just a girlish man or a boyish woman ticked the buttons I had that firing in that area.

And truth to tell I did have a huge crush on Kat in the play, she was principle boy, pixie haircut, and all thigh slapping, leg showing boy, but wasn’t….. As far as I was aware she didn’t even know I existed, she always had a following of men around her, and a different boyfriend seemingly every season. That and she was a close friend of my sister, three, no, four years older than me and a world apart in terms of life.

Anyway, back to the story, Fairy, yeah, White basque, long blonde hair, coronet, petticoats and flouncy skirt, Elbow length gloves, wings, stockings…. Stockings! Fortunately the Theatre group ladies heels, man sized, panto use, one pair, were much too big. And I suggested as a joke, bovver boots, all this dainty fairy dress and then big black kick’em boots to finish it off. The wardrobe Ladies loved the idea, and as I had a pair, one more issue sorted.

So there I was, dressed in girls things, feeling…. Odd. Not bad odd, not wrong odd, not OH GOD I AM IN A DRESS odd, just out of my comfort zone odd.

“Right” said the Ladies who dress, “walk around, make sure you can climb the steps for your entry and stuff, and remember you have wings so you are wider than you think.” So I did as I was told.

I wandered around backstage, and into the hall, where I had been told I was to walk up the central aisle, throw magic dust on the audience and then up the steps at the side of the stage. It felt oddly good, something about the tightness of the basque and the pull on the suspenders, and the sheerness and smoothness of the stockings, were waking up sensations I had never really thought of. Then came the comments, critical ones, no you’re striding, smaller steps, you will need to shave your legs, ooooh don’t you look sweet, wanna date darling (Ivor, I will end you!), but all in good nature and it got me past my nerves and the cast had a laugh with me, not at me, except Ivor who got a lot of arm punches and pinches from the women in the cast.

What, he said, he has good legs. All eyes suddenly on me, petticoats lifted, do a twirl, I would have been safer as a calf in a circle of hyenas than in the middle of these women in the cast. I felt like meat on a butchers block, as they inspected me, the general consensus was…. Bitch! “He has better legs than us.” In the midst of all this though, one hand slid up the white nylons, softly, caressingly, fondly, I couldn’t see who it was, too many women crowded around, and then a snap of elastic as one of them did the obvious. Ow!

As I headed back to the changing room Kat sidled up to me, come and see me in a minute, she whispered, and winked at me. Because she had multiple costume changes and several of them very quick, so she had one of the two private dressing rooms, rather than the common changing area the rest of us were using.

I knocked and entered, still as the Fairy as there was no one free to unhook, unlace or undo me at the back for a moment. Kat smiled at me, a warm wide smile. “You do have great legs,” she said, “almost as good as mine.” I froze, is Kat, flirting with me, dressed as a girl? She came and stood with me, and I felt that soft hand again. Yes she was. Oh she definitely was.

“Hmmm Basque can be tighter, you have a waist but let’s make it a knockout, and you need a little padding.” I looked blank, “up here,” she said and cradled her own breasts, “you are a little flat, even for Panto Drag.”

My jaw must have dropped as she put a finger under it to close my mouth, then kissed me, kissed me hard, leant me over (dipped me I later learnt it is called) and made sure it lasted until I needed to come up for breath. Wow!, ummm Wow, great, ummm brain short circuit, out of cheese error, redo from start.

Kat moved back and laughed, oh you do blush prettily. I blushed even prettier. My crush was kissing me, caressing me, flirting with me, and I was basically in lingerie while she did it. While I stood in a stupor she rummaged in the Drama groups bits of costume chest, and finally came over to me with two nylon bags of something, rice or birdseed I think and pulling my cups out, dropped them into place.

“There you go, insta-cleavage.” She stepped back and looked at me carefully, “a little slap, better styled hair and you do make a very passable woman.” She smiled radiantly at me, kissed me on the cheek and sent me back out to the general melee of the backstage changing area. Where I was helpfully divested of the costume, so I could dress as Pirate 2 for the final run through which was about to start.

It passed in a blur, the Director sending me on at my prompt points, luckily having done the lighting I knew the marks to stand on, in each of my little cameos. Sword waving and general “Yahhhh’ing” as the pirate. Abducting the heroine (my sister) as the Gorilla was the highlight, especially when Kat rescued her by hitting me with her stage sword. Then, finally into the hall, up the steps, wand waving as the Fairy to close the show. All was going well, I could do this.

Then the bombshell, the Director thrust a page of lyrics into my hand, and the music started. I had a song. Oh shit, I had to sing, in front of people, dressed as a fairy…..

I managed, how? Don’t ask me, by this point I was punch drunk. I had been moving at 90mph for hours now and it was starting to tell.

Still rehearsal over finally, final points, props and costume checks, everything in place for Tuesdays first performance. “Oh, are you free tomorrow afternoon” the director asked, “if so come in and you can rehearse the song.” Ummmm yeah fine, by then I was so punch drunk I would have confessed to shooting JFK!

That night I struggled to sleep, it wasn’t just being dressed as a girl for the first time that got to me, it was being noticed by Kat that left me hot and bothered. I mean Kat, tall, athletic, knock out Kat, kissing me, caressing me, I mean, I had had a crush before, but the dial was now at 11!

Sunday morning was a fog, but normal, then I walked to the hall we were using for my rehearsal. Inside were the pianist and Kat, just in Jeans and stuff. She smiled, I melted. “Just here for moral support” she said, “I saw the song throw you.”

“Thankyou” I managed to get out, then the pianist got to work, scales to open my voice, song sheet and an admonition to ‘Learn the Words’ and we were off. After three or four run throughs we had it sounding acceptable and no longer scaring cats and making dogs bark. And we were done. With a passing reminder to learn them by Tuesday the Pianist was off. Leaving me with Kat, alone….

Hello, rabbit, headlights….. She laughed, “calm down, I am not here to ravish you… yet.” She winked. My heart leapt and did a right turn. “Oh come on” she said, “I need a coffee.” She locked up and we wandered round to the pub (not a lot of places open on a Sunday afternoon, small village). Two coffees, two slices of cake, well we had been working hard, and we sat at a small table, heads close as it was busy doing Sunday Lunches.

And we talked, well Kat started talking until I relaxed enough to jump in. Talking about herself, her job (yuck), the men who chased her (bigger yuck), her degree, her taste in books, ahhh finally something, we discussed books, she was a Sci Fi fan like me, and we agreed LeGuin topped the list, then onto music where again we had similar tastes, and we relaxed, I hadn’t realized she was nervous as well until the stream of chat.

I laughed, got the next coffee’s in and then yucked about my work and stuff, why I hadn’t gone to Uni, that sort of thing. Then we got onto my sister, oooh bitching session, except it wasn’t, she was a good sister, just older and with few overlaps that were not family. It was a definite getting to know you over coffee deal now. Oddly I found I had more in common with Kat than she did, interests wise. Then the big breakthrough, we got onto films, and actors and actress’s, ones we admired for skill (Robert De Niro) ones we admired for looks (Scarlett Johansson) and ones we had a crush on….

And that was it, we both crushed on Tilda Swinton…. Then a lightbulb moment, Orlando, and she looked at me, really looked at me, all serious and nodded. Now she was blushing, well only fair, I had been since before we arrived! But now her interest was explained, she liked androgeny in her men, rather than the macho types who wanted her as arm candy.

I went up to the bar to get us both another drink, no more coffee though, Lime and Soda’s this time and the barman, who I knew slightly grinned at me, “first date,” he asked? I kinda nodded, I wasn’t sure if it was, but it felt like one.

Having recovered slightly, back to business, “shave your legs,” she said. “You can see the hair through the lights, and you are neither hairy enough to be funny, nor smooth enough to not be noticed at the moment, so it looks wrong. Learn the words, Tuesday will be fine.” More talk, then time to go home, food called. We parted, Tuesday, and she kissed me, on the cheek this time, but not a peck, a proper kiss and waved as she headed off.

I floated home on cloud nine.

Tuesday came, the Play was the Thing, we had fun, Pirates pirated kids loved the Gorilla, and loved Kat chasing it and hitting it more, the aloof butler buttled, then time to Fairy, Wardrobe Mistress on hand, Basque, wow that’s tight, stockings onto freshly shaved legs….. I nearly died at the reaction, “well darling” she whispered in my ear, “you don’t think we ONLY wear them for men do you?” Skirts, wings, wig, breasts, coronet, wand, then boots. Wrong boots, these were bovver boots, but these had heels, stompy platform heels, and were bright cherry red, and were brand new.

“Kat left them for you.”

In all the palaver I had barely seen her, as she is onstage basically the whole show when not changing. But her fleeting grins in passing now made sense. I put two and two together, and I asked, “she adjusted the basque didn’t she?”

“Yes she did, said it was a bit loose so had a dart or two put in.” I mentally added her name to the hit list with Ivors. And off I pranced. It seemed to go down well with applause and much laughter (the song was a comic one). Curtain calls, bows onstage and we were done for the afternoon. Shattered, euphoric, and back to the dressing room, where I just sat with the rest of the cast for 10 minutes as we recovered.

Then out of costume, makeup off, reset everything in place for tomorrow, coats on and off home. As we went through the doors in a mass I felt a bum pinch, I don’t know who it was but I had my suspicions….

Wednesday much the same, but no more costume surprises, Thursday, the first two parter, the afternoon went well, it was a younger years classes and they were loud and exuberant and made everything extra fun. And then backstage to put in my needs on the Chinese order being collated. And to my surprise at my spot were flowers, and a card, addressed to the best legs in the show, from Mark (another one on the now growing list, he also made Kat’s for that one). Apparently my legs had a bigger fan club than I did.

Friday, same again, but really into the stride of the show, it ran slicker and quicker, the punchlines sharper, the pauses better, the ad libs honed, I think I was enjoying being on stage instead of backstage. Another convert to the greasepaint groupies.

Saturday morning, shattered, oh god more shows…. Shoot me now. Sis wakes me up with a mug of tea and a bacon roll. Uh oh…. Something was up.

Me was up it turned out. I had been volunteered to assist sis and Kat with last minute shopping as doing the Panto had seriously curtailed retail therapy time. It was then I realised it was 8:00 am…. I drunk the tea, ate the buttie, showered, shaved, top AND bottom as it were, as I had noticed my legs were feeling stubbly and scratchy the previous day, and still only half awake shambled into the kitchen where Mum, Sis and Kat were sat waiting for me.

“Right,” said Mum, “no breaking the Beast of burden and be at the hall by 1pm…. Or else…”

And off we jolly well went. Shopping with two attractive women was ok, realising they were hitting every Ladieswear shop in the complex, was less so. Especially as Kat would hold up something, look at me, the item, back at me and smile or shake her head. Plotting was afoot, I could tell. Still we stopped for lunch, I was carrying bags, Sis had bags, Kat had bags, I was beginning to worry about her car for space, but that was fine apparently, I could always go in the boot so as to not crease the clothes….

Kat dashed off for some last minute thing, and came back with yet another full bag. Then back to the car, back to Kat’s place briefly (closer than home) to drop off the bags and car, and walk to the hall on the dot.

Last two shows to go, the afternoon show, was raucous, and fun, they even wanted an encore of me. I think it was the masochists convention or something. Then a surprise back in the dressing room, on my chair was a wrapped parcel, red with red ribbon, quite large, and when I lifted it, it felt like several things were inside it. Then I saw the tag, ‘To my favourite Fairy, Well Done. Do not open until after the ‘after party.’’ I looked around and one of the other cast just mouthed Kat at me and smiled.

I put it out of my mind, did the final show, cheers applause, adrenaline, champagne backstage, backslapping, bum pinched multiple times, Mark even hobbled in on crutches and gave me a big kiss on the cheek for stepping in. We changed, we had a party to go to. Someone whispered in my ear, “Don’t forget your parcel.” I didn’t.

The afterparty had food, yay! Alcohol, yay! Kat in a white shirt, the black tailcoat I had butlered in and high heeled ankle boots over skintight wet look red leggings. She looked superb, all bossy and Ring Mistress. There was other good company to wind down with and in the end I found myself in the corner of the sofa, Kat on the arm, Sis next to me and someone else asleep on her as we chatted about my first time on stage and stuff. Finally yawns and a long week caught up and Kat dragged me out of the door, with my parcel wrapped in my arms as we headed back to her place, ‘for a nightcap’.

Sis headed home, “I’ll get the car and shopping tomorrow,” she said winking at me.

Me and Kat walked to her place, living in a village had its advantages, everywhere was close! I was all nervous again, not sure why I was here. I mean there were several reasons it could be, but none were being mentioned.

In through her door, and, I was grabbed and hugged and kissed, and I mean kissed, full on kissed, lipstick tasting, tongue wrangling kissed. Then finally up for air, and a big smile as she ordered me into the front room and to open my parcel, she wanted to see what her girl really looked like.

Amazing where a New Years Resolution to get out and meet people will lead you….