Soubrette Chapter 2 Nick was happy playing the system,unemployed and unemployable but it had to end some time.

After a brief detour (pun intended), to Marks and Spencer, I headed home still a little astonished at what I had got myself into.

Once through the front door, I threw a new pack of knickers onto the settee, and made for the kitchen to prepare a quick evening meal. By my standards it had been a hectic day, and I needed to get out of myself.

One salad later, I added a bra to my pink ensemble, wriggled into my stays, and slipped on a pair of nylons. The last were an anachronism I know, but my silk stockings were almost too precious to wear. Then the hard decisions began.

Bearing in mind what Janice had said about Monday morning, I picked out my best black bob, and sat at my dressing table to paint my face.

Warpaint on, I struck a pose before the mirror and told myself that I could pass for a Vargas girl, or at least as well as any 21st century 28 year old man can. Then it was time to raid the closet, where I picked out a day dress and shoes, which if not vintage, certainly looked the part.

With a slight swish, I retired to go too and much to my living room, where I cursed myself for not remembering to warm up the wireless when I got home. Batting the new pack of knickers aside, I arranged myself on the settee and stared out over the bay. I was after all, about to join the workforce, and would have to learn how to relax properly.

Needless to say, I was just at the point of slipping from torpor to nirvana when there was a knock at my door. I suspected one of my superannuated neighbours needed something, and was surprised therefore to find someone far younger on the threshold.

I recognised Kirsty from the Jobcentre, but had only seen her in office drab before. Now she was dressed in a short sheepskin jacket over a pink and black chintz tunic, with black leggings and Uggs. More noticeably, she wore her hair loose instead of tied back, and had on a little more make up.

'Good evening Kirsty,' I said, adding, 'good evening Mr. Blum, are you off dancing again?' for the benefit of a neighbour who had appeared at his door across the corridor.

'Not this evening, Verity dear, unless you'd like to come with me,' he answered, as my young visitor turned to look at him and then back at me.

Surprise seemed to have overwhelmed her, and she switched between the two of us several times, before directing a 'wow' at me.

'Would you like to come in?' I asked her, trying not to smile too much at her reaction.

She followed me in without a word, simply turning her head as if to take in everything. It's not an uncommon reaction for first time visitors to my flat.

'It's nice to see you, if a little unexpected,' I said,'you don't usually make house calls. What brings you here?' I regretted leaving the pack of panties on the settee, as I asked her take a seat. If Kirsty noticed them at all she didn't show it.

'Your new boss called this afternoon to say you'd taken the job,'she said, eyes still wandering around the room,'and Isobel said, you'd gone to buy new panties.' Kirsty finally looked down at the M & S bag beside her and smiled. 'I thought you're might need some help...' Her voice trailed away slightly, and looking me up and down, she added,'but it seems you're doing pretty well on your own.'

'It's not my first time in a frock,' I said, easing myself down so the bag of briefs and lay between us, 'what do you think?'

'You look amazing, Verity. That is your name isn't it?' Kirsty asked, 'If I didn't know you as Nick I'd have never guessed you are a man.' She leaned a little closer to examine my makeup, shook her head, and murmured, 'amazing.'

Now I'm as susceptible to flattery as most, but remembering my duties as a hostess, I asked my visitor if she'd care for tea. In truth, I was glad of the opportunity of escaping to the kitchen. Kirsty was the first female under sixty to grace my flat since... well since I'd moved in, and she was really quite pretty.

Having collected myself somewhat, I carried a tray back into the living room, were Kirsty was examining a few of my treasures.

'I can't believe this room,' she said, straightening up, much to my regret, 'everything is old, but it looks so new.'

'That's what a fine arts degree and two years post-grad training in restoration can do,' I said, setting the tea things down on my coffee table, 'getting bakelite to shine is nothing really.'

'I'm a little disappointed, 'Kirsty said, looking at her teacup, 'I'd expected Clarice Cliff.'

'Even the fakes are expensive these days, 'I replied, 'this is Charlotte Read, far more stylish don't you know. Have you tried the cake?'

'Oh god,' Kirsty said through a hail of crumbs, 'this is so good. Don't tell me you bake as well.'

'I can't take the credit ,' I smiled, 'Mrs.Rose next door is the building's baker.' Kirsty looked at me thoughtfully for a moment.

'Does she know about Verity too?' She asked, remembering this time place a hand to intercept any crumbs.

'Oh yes, everyone does.' How could I explain it to her?

'And they're OK about it?' Kirsty sounded incredulous.' if my Gran lived next door to a transvestite-that's what you are, right-she would have a heart attack.'

'That is what I am,' I reached forward and refreshed my cup, 'I just think my neighbours accept a it as a very English eccentricity. Even Mr. Blum, and he's German.'

'That is so amazing, 'Kirsty said, 'I just want to hug you, and ask you a million questions. Does that make me sound like a silly girl?'

'I'm still not sure why you are here,' I said slowly, 'it's Friday night, and I would have thought someone of your age would be out of the town tonight.' As you may have gathered, I wasn't that used to talking to young women.

Thankfully, this wasn't the wrong thing to say, or at least Kirsty didn't jump up and run for the door. Instead she sat back, and gave me another of those thoughtful looks.

'With you getting a job, I thought I might not see in the office again,' she started quietly, 'to be honest, I've had a bit of a crush on you for ages.' It was my turn to look incredulous.

'No one has crushes on me.' Light as my dress was, I suddenly felt flushed under my girdle. A little lost for words too.

'You are such a romantic figure,' she said through her blushes, 'an artist who made one mistake and has to keep paying for it again and again, yet still doesn't compromise.' Time to step away from the Mills and Boon novels, I thought that she seemed so sincere, and suddenly so young, I was at a loss for words.

'I suppose now that you have seen me like this, the crush is over. And I'm not really an artist.' It was turning into a very out-of-the-blue sort of a day.

'I think you're a brilliant artist,' Kirsty replied instantly, 'you've built a fantastic installation, and made yourself its living, breathing heart.' She was herself a little breathless by the time she finished speaking. I imagined I could add 'Guardian reader' to Kirsty's list of vices.

Although I didn't believe her, my ego was in danger of going up a cup size. My flat was no installation, it was just a manifestation of a peculiar type of OCD, although tastefully put together.

We sat silently for a few minutes, staring up to sea, and stealing occasional glances at each other. Kirsty eventually broke in with, 'Do you like girls?' I had been asked that already that day, and knew my answer- I nodded. 'Good,' she said, and took my hand in hers.

We sat there for hours, talking softly, taking tea, and listening to gramophone records, until the sun had dwindled to a red stain on the horizon. She did in fact have been a million questions, which I did my best to answer (even showing my underwear to a woman for the second time that day), but I didn't get a hug until Kirsty was ready to leave.

'Does that work?' she asked, pointing at my shiny black bakelite telephone. We swapped numbers (and no, I didn't have a mobile), made a few false starts but eventually reached my front door.

'Sorry I have to say,' Kirsty caught my upper arm, 'your new panties are very boring- I mean, full briefs, really?'

'I've been told,' I started apologetically, 'in my new job my bum will be permanently on display. The last things I will need are interesting knickers to draw even more attention.' She laughed, and wrapped both arms around me.

'You are so sweet, Verity.' Kirsty kissed me, full on the lips, and kissed me again, 'for Nick.' With that she was through the door, before I knew what was happening. I should have walked her to the lift, but I was too busy using my back to stop the building spinning.