Soubrette Chapter 8 Nick was happy playing the system,unemployed and unemployable but it had to end some time.

Isabel's offer of the lift home was neither surprising nor strictly speaking an offer. All afternoon she had been shooting me sidelong glances, and missed no opportunity to brush against me. She waited until the end of the day, when I was changing out of my uniform.

Deciding the world had seen enough of me in fishnets for one day, I was refastening nylons to my suspenders, when she simply stood in front of me, and announced, 'I'm running you home tonight.'

Of course I tried to demur, but she was adamant, and so at five thirty, I trooped after her with a sense of dread. I imagined Isabel pouncing upon me, as soon as we left the shop. I couldn't blame her, after our "passionate" exchange.

Isabel's car was almost an embodiment of her sense of style; a metallic green BMW, its paintwork shining, and looking like it had just driven off the forecourt, despite being five years old. She watched with obvious anxiety as I laid my bags on the back seat, and stood with pursed lips as I attempted to sit in the front. I managed to evade criticism by not flashing my knickers with the first time that day.

My attempts at small talk met only stony silence, until we joined the main road, when Isabel's hand slipped from the gearstick to my knee.

'What?' An exasperated Isabel said. Without taking her eyes from the traffic ahead, she added, 'Isn't this what you expected to happen?'

It was exactly what I expected, and I mumbled some words to that effect, before placing my hand over hers. 'You are a strange girl, Verity,' she said. Which may have been true, but I was relieved that Isabel's hand wasn't sliding up my thigh.

'Well this is it.' I was beginning to feel like a tour guide every time I invited anyone into my flat. However, the look of amazement on a visitor's face never grew old.

'It's like following Alice through the looking glass,' Isobel said, looking around in wonder.

'We'd best put the shopping in my sewing room; it's down here,' I said, leading the way along the corridor, pausing only to shut an opened door. 'That's my bedroom, nothing to see there,' I mumbled.

Isabel gasped from the doorway, and pointed at my mannequin. 'I want a sundress just like that, she said, running her hands over the fabric, ‘please make me one.'

'I made that from an off-cut,' I said, grabbing a measuring tape, 'so I won't be able to match the pattern, but I noticed some lovely…' My words trailed off when I remembered I was to make the maid uniforms first.

'Measure me anyway,' Isabel said, stretching her arms out to her sides. She remained perfectly still as I wrapped the tape around her bust, and waist, but when I moved to Isabel's hips, she told me, 'if you tell anyone else that number, I will have to kill you.'

'It makes a change for me to be touching your bum,' I joked. Isabel laughed, but her face grew suddenly serious.

'Why are you so afraid of me?' She asked, laying a hand on my shoulder.

'I'm not afraid,' I lied.

'When you're around me, you shake like a leaf,' Isabel said, tipping up my chin with one finger.

'You were pretty horrible to me yesterday.'

'I was just annoyed with you,' she said, folding her arms lightly around me. 'You are so effortlessly angelic, I spent all day fighting the urge to cuddle you.'

'You don't cuddle people's panties,' I sniffed.

'It's something you have to learn to ignore,' Isabel smiled, 'and you even seemed to enjoy it today.'

'I suppose I just overreacted,' I said, laying my head against Isabel's chest.

'I'd better get on,' she said, giving my waist a squeeze, 'I can't keep you from your sewing. Janice would kill me.'

'You don't have to go right away,' I said, trying to make up for the baby I could now see I'd been,'I have to cook dinner, I can easily make enough for two.'

'You seen how wide my hips are,' Isabel said, leading me back to my front door, 'I daren't eat anything else today.'

'It doesn't have to be…' I caught myself, before I started to sound really desperate. 'Should we kiss goodbye?' Isabel smiled, and nodded, while I braced myself for the kiss I'd expected earlier.

She put an arm around my shoulder, drawing me a little closer, and planted a quick peck on my cheek. It was all so anticlimactic, and yet bells seemed to be ringing.

'You should probably answer the telephone,' Isabel said, and was out through the door before I could even turn around.

I was rather unused receiving phone calls, but it took me a few moments to realise it was Kirsty speaking.

'Everyone was talking in work today, about a stripper running down the High Street this lunchtime.'

'I wasn't running,' I said defensively.

'If it's any consolation, everyone said you have fantastic legs,' she said, before collapsing into giggles. 'But why were you on the High Street?'

'It's a long story,' I said, 'and I think I've messed up things with Isabel.'

'I'm coming over,' Kirsty said decisively, 'should I bring anything?'

'I'm just about to start dinner,' and over Kirsty's protestations, I added, 'please let me cook for you.'

'You cook too?' She shouted, 'you're having my babies!'

I was draining the pasta when Kirsty arrived, and had to explain I wasn't hugging because I been chopping chillis.

'Is there no end to your talents?' Kirsty asked, while rolling her eyes, 'I bet you're rubbish in bed, to compensate… I'm joking, where's the food'

'So you ended up French kissing Isabel,' Kirsty laughed out loud, sending a piece of orecchiette across the kitchen.

'My tongue was strictly neutral.' I managed to get out my defence almost straightfaced.

'It doesn't sound like she had any complaints.' When Kirsty put it like that, I have to see the funny side, but her face turned serious quite quickly. 'You've brought work home with you? You are on minimum wage, Perhaps I should have a word. '

'It's something I like doing,' I said, although Kirsty was shaking her head. 'That reminds me, I need to measure your hips,' which made Kirsty sputter.

'I was only joking about having my babies,' she said through a barrage of broccoli, 'well, half joking anyway.'

Ignoring the last part of her sentence, I tried to explain myself. 'I thought it would be fun on Thursday, if we both wore my dresses, it's just that they are cut to my figure,' I said, 'and I have boyishly slim hips.'

'That's because you are a slim boy,' Kirsty laughed, 'I'm game if you are.'

We moved to my bedroom, and "flung open the closet doors" as Kirsty put it. The choice was simple enough, it had to be a black dress, which would look devastating with her blonde hair. Or it would have been simple, if I didn't have a love of making little black dresses. It was, therefore, about half an hour before Kirsty shucked off her trousers, for me to run my take around her hips.

'This has to be the most elaborate plot by a man to get a girl down to her panties, ever,' she laughed, but while I'm here…'

'I have to make a start on the maid uniforms,' I said, apologetically.

'Perhaps Isabel really is the girl for you,' Kirsty said, pulling on her trousers.