Chapter 2 – The first deception

My resemblance to Susan was not exactly carbon copy but I considered it close enough for people to believe without raising too many alarm bells, and certainly mum’s diminished state should allow the new look Susan to pass muster. I practiced walking in the heels to make sure I would not look like a some drunken ostrich and reminded myself of the mantra “small steps, hip sway” which was always the advice to models at shop fashion shows I had decorated over the years.

I glanced at my watch. I had a little time before visiting hour would come around so I undressed again and slipped on my own jeans and t-shirt. I decided in order to minimise my time dressed en-femme I would carry the outfit to Susan’s and get dressed there. I could borrow a little of her make up and spritz some of her perfume on myself so that I would smell like my sister as well as look like her. I could feel my pulse rate increasing as I check listed what I needed to do in order to make things work and made myself some food for dinner. I wasn’t feeling hungry but didn’t want this tension on an empty stomach.

An hour before visiting I grabbed the holdall with the clothing and Susan’s house keys and headed out of my flat. For some bizarre reason I felt self conscious as I walked along the road, as if people could tell what I was going to do despite any external signs whatsoever. I tried to remind myself that this was just a madcap piece of disguise for the benefit of an old lady who would take comfort from it and it was only for a couple of nights at most. There was nothing to worry about. I should relax and enjoy it. Treat it like an adult Halloween outing. Nothing more.

My hands were shaking when I put the key into Susan’s front door and then turned off their alarm system. I knew I didn’t have long to get prepared so I quickly went to her bedroom and undressed. It felt wrong to be stripping down in the bedroom of my sister and brother in law’s house but I told myself I didn’t have time to worry about that. Instead I needed to get myself ready.

I pulled on the jeans and blouse before sitting at the dressing table and pulled out a couple of drawers before finding some make up. I had already shaved as close as possible but decided I needed a little foundation cream on my face to reduce the signs of stubble. Then I found a mascara wand so I did my eyelashes in the hope of making my eyes look a little prettier. I put a little of her eye-shadow on before taking a lipstick and gave my mouth a deep burgundy colouring. I paused as I saw myself reflecting in the mirror and smiled. I did look more like my sister that ever before. This should work!

I could not find the perfume at first but found some in the en-suite bathroom cabinet and dabbed my neck and wrists with it which brought Susan to life in my body. I was feeling very smug when I glanced at my hands. Nails! Susan was never without nail varnish! I needed to wear some because mum has a great hand holder and would notice. Having not done physical work for a few weeks, my nails were a little longer than usual so I grabbed an emery board and began giving them a little shape but as I did so I noticed the time was rushing past and I needed to paint the nails now and get moving.

I found a bottle of varnish that was a similar shade to the lipstick and painted each set of nails as best I could. My hands were shaking with nerves and the job wasn’t perfect but good enough. As I held them out before me I suddenly shuddered once more. Jewellery! Susan always wore rings and a bracelet – and of course she would have that with her on her holiday. I noticed a jewellery box and searched in it for something I could wear. Her rings were mostly too small for my hands but I found one I could wear and a clasp bracelet which would go round my wrist so I threw them on.

I was getting out of the chair when I realised I hadn’t secured the wig on yet and sat back down to make sure it was pinned in place and my own hair wasn’t visible. For the first time in my life I was grateful for my receding hairline and cropped haircut. I grabbed a hairbrush and gently teased the hair so that it looked relatively natural and managed.

Another glance at the watch. Damn – it’s a quarter to and its still a 15 minute walk to the care home – I need to get going! Then I saw my watch again – a large masculine item my sister would never be wearing! I quickly rummaged through the drawer and found a pretty watch which clearly no longer worked. It had an expanding metal band however so I could slide it onto my wrist for show and that would have to do. I left my own watch next to my clothes and would collect them when I got back.

Once more I realised I had forgotten something. I had a wallet, mobile phone and set of keys to carry, and no pockets to place them in. I needed a bag. In the wardrobe there was a range of them of course and I smiled when I saw one that I recognised. Mum had given Susan it as a present last Christmas and it was all Susan could do to look grateful. It was extremely old fashioned and two tone beige, giving it all of the style of the 1970s and Susan had whispered to me on the day that she would never leave her house with it! I felt less guilty borrowing it and thought it might even get Susan some “brownie points” if mum recognised it.

Damn, I don’t have time for this, I realised as I stuffed my personal items into the bag and took a deep breath. I need to get a move on. I closed the bedroom door and made my way to the alarm box. Making sure I had all I needed and having one last check of myself in the mirror. The image restored a little of my confidence. I DID look feminine. This WAS going to work. As long as I got to the Care Home before visiting stopped, I could make this work. I turned the alarm back on and stepped out of the door, locking it securely behind me.

That’s when reality hit me. I was now on the pavement of a public street in a big city dressed as a woman. I didn’t have the option to go back into the house – I needed to get to Niaroo Care Home as soon as possible and time was ticking. I remembered my favourite comedy film, Some Like It Hot, where Tony Curtis and Jack Lemon masqueraded as Josephine and Daphne to avoid the Mob who were out to kill them and a whispered to myself “Come along, Daphne, you can do this” as I made my short stride steps down the pavement, one foot in front of the other in my best attempt at a feminine gait. There was no going back now.

It was early evening and still daylight so I could be seen by all passers by but nobody screamed, nobody was laughing or pointing at me. In fact, nobody seemed to give me a second glance which came as a huge relief. Even so, I was beginning to regret my decision to pretend to be my sister. What if mum had calmed down and was in a better mental state tonight and remembered her daughter was away on holiday and would have been happy to see her son instead? Was all of this charade strictly necessary?!

I reached the Care Home at 5 past the hour. It took longer walking in heels than I expected but I was genuinely relieved to have reached it while at the same time terrified than in the next few minutes I might be exposed by my mother or worse still rejected as some stranger and cause more stress than I was trying to eliminate from her life.

“Can I help you?” the girl at the reception desk said. I smiled weakly. “Hi Moira – its Angus Harper here to see my mum.” She frowned and stared at me. “Angus? Em . . I . . didn’t know . . .” I interrupted her and said “Last night she was stressed asking for Susan to come visit, so I thought I would try and look like my sister and maybe fool her into relaxing . . . I know it sounds kind of stupid now I talk about it. . . .” She smiled and said “Worth giving it a go. I’m told your mum was asking for your sister all day so let’s see if you are right!” I signed the visitor sheet as usual and nodded as I headed for mum’s room.

My heart was now beating like a humming bird’s wings and I took a long deep breath before knocking on the door and opening it. In my best impersonation of my sibling I greeted my mother. “Hi Mum, its only me! How are you?”

Her eyes looked at me and a saw a slight frown. “Susan? Susan is that you?” she asked and I smiled and said “Of course it is. Haven’t been in for a couple of days but I’m here now. Oh, I shortened my hair yesterday – I know you always said I would suit it shorter – how do you like it?” I said, giving her the full side to side pose to show off my locks. “Malcolm and the kids say it makes me look younger!” The frown remained in place as mum replied “Its nice dear, it certainly makes you look . . . well, a little different.”

I decided to move in so I sat down in the chair next to her and took her hand in mine. “Anyway, I’m here now. So how are you? Are you still playing whist with your friends in the afternoons? You were telling me you enjoyed that the other day! What’s their names again – Angela and Maureen isn’t it?” Mum seemed to relax and nodded “Aye, Agnes and Maureen. They’re staying here too, you know. We play whist in the afternoon some times.” I gave her hand a squeeze “That sounds good fun – its nice to have friends you can chat with, isn’t it?” She nodded but seemed to have nothing more to say on the topic.

I had prepared for the eventuality of having to make all the conversation – it was what I did as Angus anytime I visited, but tonight I knew I had to convince as my sister. I decided to go all in with tales of her grandchildren which was always a topic she liked hearing about. “I meant to tell you Alice and Jack send their love – I’ll bring them in to see you when they are free. You know what they are like! Alice has started training as a cheer leader for the School sports teams – we’re getting so like America these days! Because she goes to her dance classes the school asked her to get involved so she can show the other girls what they need to do to get fit and flexible. Remember when she was in that school concert when they did the musical Cats and she was in that outfit with the tail and everything?”

Mum frowned as she recalled a cat suit and she said “Yes. . . I think so . . .” I squeezed her hand. “That’s right we were all there, Malcolm, Angus, Jack and yourself – we got a seat near the front so we could see better, remember? Right next to the orchestra so we were nearly deaf from the music?” Mum appeared to remember something about that but said nothing as I ploughed on. “Well, she’s still loving her dancing and is talking about applying for a stage school once she has finished her exams, so she can train and maybe get work on the West End Theatre circuit in London!”

Mum’s face showed little recognition of what I was saying but she was calm and was gripping my hand which I took as a sign of acceptance and smiled to myself. So far so good.

I changed the subject of the talk to my nephew Jack and talked about his interests and activities which mum might have remembered for about 10 minutes and then changed to talking about Malcolm – my alleged husband of 20 years I talked about how his work was keeping him busy, how he was still golfing every Sunday and how he was planning on taking the family on a holiday to Lake Como in Italy since one of the partners at his law firm had a time share there and had a slot available for our use.

Mum participated with some one word responses or the occasional smile and nod but wasn’t coming up with anything of her own. I knew of course that, just like people in hospital or prison, residents in care homes tended to do the same thing every day since they were to all intent and purpose captives within their four walls. The last thing I wanted was silence – I needed to keep my focus on fooling my mother and maintaining my Susan persona. I had never realised how hard it was to keep talking for such a long time and realised a new admiration for lecturers and stand up comedians.

“So Angus told me he was in to see you last night” I said looking for a reaction and mum nodded and said “uh huh” so I launched in. “He was telling me he is doing well with his job at the moment, he’s got a new contract to do displays in House of Fraser and Marks and Spencer’s so that’s good, isn’t it?” I didn’t want her to worry about my failing career and hoped the familiar names of major retailers would filter through so that she would be reassured on some level but again there was no real reaction. “He probably told you all about it last night, did he?” I asked and she just said “yes” with a blank expression which made me feel rather sad for her. She was just reacting to what was being said to her like an automaton – not really understanding what was being said enough to make meaningful conversation.

I went back to Susan stories to reinforce my presence. “So I was looking through some old photo albums last night and I found the pictures from when you and dad took me to Brownie camp in West Linton because I was scared to go in the bus with the other girls, remember? I was stood at the camp gate gripping dad’s hand like I didn’t want to let go and you standing there in your green jump suit – remember? Must have got someone else to take that picture – Angus wasn’t there because he was away with the swimming club that day.”

I hoped my words were reaching mum even though there was no obvious reaction to my stories or the images I was trying to recreate for her but she was at least relaxed and nodded and smiled every now and then at my lengthy stand up routine.

I was about to launch into another photo from the past when there was a knock on the door and Moira stepped in. “I’m sorry, its 8pm and visiting is officially over.” I checked my watch. I had been talking non stop for the past 50 plus minutes without a break. I smiled at Moira and said “Be right out” and she closed the door again.

“That’s me being kicked out, mum” I said as I looked her in the face and said “Take care of yourself and I’ll see you in a couple of days, OK?” Her face fell and she said “You’ll come again tomorrow, Susan?” and her grip on my hand tightened. I smiled and said “What about Angus? He’ll come tomorrow and then I can come the next night!” She shook her head “You’ll come again tomorrow, Susan?” she repeated and I sighed. “Em, OK, hopefully Malcolm can look after the kids again” I said as I reached for my handbag.

“Oh, mum, do you recognise this? It’s the handbag you gave me at Christmas, remember?” I held it out and she looked at it and said “Debenhams.” I laughed “That’s right, you said you got it for me in Debenhams. Its lovely . . . and so are you mum.” I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you mum” I said and then chuckled. “Oh I’ve left some lipstick on your cheek” and I dampened a paper tissue and used it to wipe her cheek, the way she used to wipe food from my face when I was young. The change from being cared for to being the carer became real to me at that moment and I felt my emotions rising. I grabbed my handbag and said “OK, Mum, see you tomorrow!”, blew her a kiss and left the room.

I felt my knees buckle a little and stood behind the door for a few seconds to compose myself before heading for the exit. Moira pushed the signing out form towards me. “Will we be seeing you again tomorrow night, Susan?” she asked and I sighed. “Afraid so. She’s a lot happier with my presence tonight than she was last night so until the real thing return at the weekend, I guess I’ll be dragging myself here!” Moira smiled at my attempt at humour and said “If its any comfort to you, you do look very convincing.” Then she put her hand on her mouth. “Oh sorry, I know you’re not female or gay or whatever . . I just mean. . . I’m sorry if I offended you!”
I smiled. “Its fine Moira, just a means to an end which should end at the weekend. I guess I can cope! See you tomorrow” and with that I walked out into the evening.