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I thought I was getting a new job, but it turned out to be a whole new life

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Chapter 4 Afternoon tea

David was as good as his word. We'd had time to tidy up, and we invited him into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. This time he accepted which I took as a good sign.

As Mum made the coffee she said to him “Those are lovely flowers, David.”

“Thank you. It's an Apollo end of season tradition. We give a gift to the men; this year it's a leather wallet, and all the ladies get a bouquet. Mary will get one too when she is well enough to enjoy it.” Turning to me he said “I hope you didn't mind getting a bouquet Harry, it was the logical thing to do in the circumstances but I can get you a wallet if you wish.”

“No that's fine David, the flowers are really nice and we have two bouquets to enjoy,” I replied. I thought to myself 'This is the first time I've ever been given flowers. That's something I'll never forget.'

Once we were all sitting around the table with our drinks and a plate of biscuits, we looked expectantly at him.

“How are you both feeling today?” David asked.

“Well you know how it is,” replied Emma “The morning after a run ends is always a bit of a downer after the high of performing.”

I nodded in agreement, even though I was thinking that I had more reason to miss it, having only had the one chance to perform.

“ I have some news for you,” he continued. “Last night we had a VIP in the audience. You know Sir Edgar Blakely of course?” He looked at us expectantly and both Mother and Emma nodded but he could see that I wasn't sure.

“He's a well-known impresario and runs a number of theatres around the country. Well, yesterday he was in Bridchester visiting his old mother who's in a nursing home here, and he happened to see one of our advertisements. He rang the theatre and asked if he could book a seat. As you know we had the 'house full' signs up, but when someone like Sir Edgar rings up, you can always find them a seat; in fact we put him in the Royal Box with our special guests, the mayor and his wife. I was a bit concerned they would be put out, but in fact they were rather flattered to be in the company of a knight of the realm. I made sure they had a photo taken with him for the local paper, and of course he is known to be quite a charmer.”

“Naturally, I went up to see him after the final curtain and my speech, and he said he was very impressed with our production. Now comes the interesting part. He has two West End theatres, but also a smaller four hundred seater in London's northern suburbs. A production was due to open there on Boxing Day, but it's fallen through. He hates to have a theatre in darkness during the holiday season, so he asked me if we would be interested in staging 'Brutus' there for a four-week season.

“I told him I was sure we would, but I'd have to check with the cast and get back to him. He said he needed an answer by tonight as he would have to start organising the staging, arranging the publicity etc. There was one more thing. He said he understood that the girl who played Margaret wasn't the usual cast member but he wanted her because it was the best interpretation of the role he'd ever seen. When I explained that you had stepped in with less than a day's notice Harry, he was even more impressed.”

I was quite shocked to hear this praise from someone who was obviously a 'big wig' in theatre circles.

“So that's why I'm here,” said David, “to ask you both if you are willing to perform in London?”

“But does he know about me?” I asked.

“Not yet,” admitted David, “I'd like him to be convinced that you can act like a girl both on and off the stage before I tell him, and the next thing he said gave me the perfect opportunity. He said he would like to meet a couple of the cast members for 'Afternoon Tea' today at the Queen's Hotel where he is staying.”

I had heard that our local top hotel had copied the famed (and very expensive) Afternoon Teas held at such places as the Dorchester and Savoy in London, but I never expected to attend one.

“Sir Edgar is well-known to have an eye for a pretty face, so I'm wondering if you Emma, and you Harry, as Harriet of course, are willing to meet him; that is of course if you are willing to do the show.”

I had no doubt what Emma's answer would be, so once again it came down to me making a decision that affected the whole company. I could hardly say 'no', especially as it seemed I would have to spend the whole time in London in girl mode. I could hardly believe this was happening so soon after I had regretfully said 'goodbye' to Margaret in my mind.

“Well, since it means so much to the whole cast, of course I agree to do it,” I said, hoping that it appeared I had to overcome some internal reluctance. “I just hope he doesn't see through me. That will be very embarrassing for us all.”

“I'm prepared to take that risk,” said David, “Although I don't think it's a risk at all.”

He left then, promising to be back to pick us up at half-past two. As soon as he had left, Emma said “Right. There's not a moment to lose. Come up to my bedroom Harry.”

” Not a moment to lose? I thought “But we've got nearly four hours."

I mention this to show how naïve I was at the time. Nevertheless, I got up and followed Emma to her bedroom, a forbidden zone that I had only ever entered a few times in my life.

“Right. We have to make the first decision which is something boys almost never think about. Do you know what that is?”

“What to wear?” I ventured.

“Excellent. We'll make a girl out of you yet,” she said with a smile. She turned to a chest of drawers and pulled out some white panties and a bra and threw them on the bed. They were followed by a pair of black patterned tights.

“I'll leave you for five minutes to get undressed and put those on,” she said, and then suddenly had a thought. “Aunty didn't shave your legs and underarms did she?”

“No,” I admitted. “She said no-one would see my underarms and the tights would mask my leg hair which is fair anyway.”

“Well, she was right for last night, but this is different,” said Emma. “Put on the panties and this robe, and meet me in the bathroom in five minutes.”

I did as she asked and walked down the corridor to the bathroom. There she shaved my underarms, chest and legs for me. When she had finished she said, “How do your legs feel?”

“Fine,” I said, while thinking as I ran my hands up and down them that they felt wonderfully silky and smooth.

“Alright, back to the bedroom and put on the tights and bra.”

I did as she said but then saw a problem with the bra.

“What about the cups?” I said. “Aunty put some things she called 'chicken fillets' in them.”

Emma grinned and turning to the dressing table, reached into a drawer.

“Voila!” she said, holding them up.

“But you've already got breasts,” I said. “Why do you need them?”

“Depending on what you are wearing, sometimes a girl needs a little boost.” She handed them to me and I slipped them into the cups and once again I had breasts.

“Now sit in front of the dressing table mirror. We have to attend to your hair and make-up. First, let me have a look at your nails.”

I held out a hand and she took it and sighed. “These are no good at all. No girl would be seen dead with nails like that. It's lucky I bought some false nails for myself last week; I'll have to use them on you and replace them later. We'll do them first so they have time to dry.”

She got me to soak my hands in warm soapy water for five minutes and then trimmed my nails with scissors and a nail file and pushed the cuticles back. Then she buffed my nails to make the surface slightly rough so that the false nails would adhere properly. She took the false nails out of their packet and arranged them in order, and one by one she put a dab of glue on my fingernail and the corresponding false nail and placed them in position, holding them for ten seconds to make sure they adhered properly. Emma decided they didn't need filing, so she finished off by painting a layer of clear varnish on them. I could hardly believe the difference it made to my hands. They were always fairly slender with elongated fingers, but now they suddenly looked very feminine.

“It's details like that that make all the difference to how a girl looks,” said Emma with a smile. “You know Georgie the Australian girl who acts part-time as a dresser at the theatre? She was telling me how the Aboriginal women have what they call 'secret women's business', rites that men aren't allowed to see. Well, we have our own 'secret women's business' too that men don't know about. They always wonder why it takes us so long to get ready to go out. Now you are seeing why that is. Men just have a shower, dress and run a comb through their hair and they're ready. For women it's a much more complicated business, but it's also a lot more fun.”

I smiled at her. Emma and I had always got on really well, but now that I was effectively becoming her sister, it seemed we were closer than we'd ever been.

“Now for the make-up,” she said. “I must explain that make-up varies on the time of day and what you are doing. You wouldn't wear evening make-up to go shopping as it's much too dramatic. For today, we need something between every-day make-up and what we'd wear for a night out. This is a special occasion, going to a posh hotel and meeting an important person.”

She set to work, applying moisturiser, foundation and blusher, and then applied eye makeup and mascara, not unlike what I had been wearing at the theatre, but a bit toned down. Finally, she chose a soft pink lipstick, suitable for a teenage girl.

“Now, how does that look?” she said.

I swiveled around in my chair, looked at myself in the mirror and caught my breath. Harry had gone and Harriet was back.

“I've been thinking what dress you should put on,” said Emma. “I have a couple that I've outgrown but I think would be perfect for you. Stand up and we'll hold them against you and you can decide.”

She went to the wardrobe and removed two dresses on their hangers and laid them on the bed. In turn, she held them up in front of me as I looked at myself in the full-length mirror.

“Well? What do you think?”

“They're both so pretty, it's hard to decide,” I replied, “But I think the deep blue satin one with the puffed sleeves looks really nice for today. What do you think?”

“That's a good choice,” said Emma. “I thought that one too, but I wanted to give you a chance to make up your own mind.”

I smiled at that. It seemed I might be getting an eye for what suited me. Emma helped me to put it on and zipped it up the back. Then she went back to the wardrobe and picked up a pair of black court shoes with three-inch heels.

“How do you think you'll go in these?” she asked

“I'll give them a try,” I replied as I sat down again and slipped them on. Heels definitely take some getting used to, but they do wonders for a woman's legs.

“Now for some jewelry. I think a pearl necklace would go really well. They're cultured pearls of course. Mum gave them to me for my twenty-first birthday.”

I had often admired them on Emma and to think that today I would be wearing them was really special.

“One final touch, earrings,” said Emma. “Your ears aren't pierced yet of course, but I still have a couple of pairs of clip-ons.”

She sorted through her jewelry box and came up with a small round pair of pearl earrings that matched the necklace.

“When your ears are pierced then you can wear pendants, but for now these are safer and less likely to fall off.”

She fastened them in place, and then produced a clutch handbag for me to carry.

“I'm putting a powder compact and the lipstick in your bag, and if your make-up needs touching up, then we'll both go to the Ladies together and I can do it for you. Now, have a look at yourself in the mirror.”

I did as she asked. It's hard to describe how I felt. There was a pretty teenage girl looking back at me, and it felt wonderful.

I stared so long that Emma laughed and said “Alright Miss Narcissus. Now you go downstairs, taking it carefully, and get some practice walking in heels while I get ready. I can't have my younger sister upstaging me!”

Mother was sitting on the couch sewing when I made my entrance. In retrospect, I think that she realised at that moment that she mightn't have a son anymore.

“Why Harriet, you look so pretty!” she exclaimed.

I blushed and replied that it was all due to Emma's handiwork. Then I set about walking around in the heels, getting used to having my centre of gravity changed.

Emma came downstairs after about twenty minutes, with just a few minutes to spare before David was due to arrive. I must say that she looked gorgeous and I told her so.

“Well,” said Mum, “I have two very beautiful daughters today.”

The doorbell rang and Mum answered it to let David in. He was suitably impressed and complimentary when he saw both of us standing there.

It was a cool dry day, but we took coats along just in case of rain as we didn't want our dresses spoilt. David helped us into his Jaguar, opening the door for each of us in turn. Emma had shown me how to enter a car in a ladylike manner, bottom on the seat first, grasping my skirt and holding my legs together as I swiveled them into the car.

We drove down to the hotel, and David dropped us off at the door while he found somewhere to park. A few minutes later he was back and led us into the foyer where we were directed to the dining room.

“There they are, by the window,” he murmured quietly to us as we walked across the dining room.

Duncan was sitting with an elderly gentleman with white hair and beard, and wearing a dark suit. They both rose to greet us.

'He looks like Colonel Sanders,' I thought to myself and smiled.

“Sir Edgar, may I introduce Emma and Harriet Stow,” said Duncan.

“Welcome, my dears; what charming traditional English names you have,” Sir Edgar said. I half expected him to kiss our hands.

'He's playing a part too,' I thought to myself, reminded of that famous quote from Shakespeare 'All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players,' Suddenly the nerves had gone and I started to relax, as Duncan and David helped us into our chairs.

“First of all I must congratulate you both on your performances last night,” he said. “As you can imagine, I get to see many household names on stage, but I can tell you that I've never seen 'Brutus' better performed. As for you young lady,” he said turning to me, “Duncan told me that you are the assistant stage manager and stepped into the role at a day's notice. I find that truly astonishing.”

“Thank you, Sir Edgar,” I replied. “I knew the part and there was no-one else to take it on, so I did my best.”

“Ah yes, 'the show must go on'. That's a very laudable sentiment, and your best was very good indeed.”

I blushed in response but was secretly very pleased.

At this point, the waiter appeared with trays of tiny sandwiches cut into triangles with the crusts removed, and a mixture of mouth-watering cakes on a silver stand. We were asked what was our choice of tea, and I chose Earl Grey, which I don't particularly like, but it seemed more upmarket than English Breakfast which we usually have at home. The waiter poured the first cups and left the silver teapot and milk for us to refill if required. Once he had left, Sir Edgar spoke again.

“I'm sure that Duncan has told you about my proposal to stage 'Brutus' down at my Mercury Theatre in London? It's not the West End of course, but not too far out, at Finsbury Park. I take it that because you are here the cast has agreed to perform it?”

“Yes indeed, Sir Edgar,” said David, “They are all very keen to reprise their roles.”

“Excellent!” he replied and turned to me. “I hope the young woman who was playing the part of Margaret is not too upset, but your interpretation was the best I have ever seen, my dear, and I simply have to have you.”

I couldn't help wondering if there was another interpretation of that remark. Hopefully, he wasn't into boys, and when he found out the truth about me that would change his attitude. Nevertheless, I was determined to quiz Emma about Sir Edgar when I got the chance. He was definitely a 'ladies man'.

Duncan now offered us the plate of sandwiches and I realised for the first time a slight disadvantage in being a girl. As Harry I would doubtless have wolfed down such delicacies, but as Harriet, I took my lead from Emma and restricted myself to three bite-size morsels, followed later by a single cake. It seemed such a shame to leave so many of them, and I warmed to Sir Edgar when he later suggested that the remaining cakes be placed in a box and taken home to share with our mother.

“The season will have to start on Boxing Day of course,” said Sir Edgar. “I hope that doesn't present any problems for the cast?”

“Of course not,” we reassured him, although I was thinking that we couldn't leave Mum at home to celebrate Christmas by herself.

“There's a comfortable three-star hotel within walking distance of the theatre, and I will book rooms for the cast as soon as you let me know how many are needed,” Sir Edgar continued. “You can liaise with my secretary Louise about that. We have our own stage staff of course, and I suspect our stage is bigger than the one here, so we'll organise the scenery.”

Emma said, “Sir Edgar, our mother is a widow and we always spend Christmas with her. Do you think Louise could organise a room for her for a few days over Christmas – at our expense of course?”

“Naturally,” he replied, “And don't worry about the extra cost. Just ring Louise and she will arrange everything.”

Sir Edgar kept going up in my estimation. The conversation then drifted on to other theatrical shows with which he was involved, and some famous names were dropped.

We passed a very pleasant hour until finally, he said. “Well my dears, it's been very nice to meet you and I look forward to seeing you again in London. But now it's time for me to discuss business matters with Duncan and David, things you don't need to bother your pretty heads about.”

It was clear that this was a signal for us to take our leave, so we both stood up and thanked him for a lovely afternoon before leaving the restaurant. On our way out, one of the waiters stepped forward with a box and said: “Excuse me miss, Sir Edgar said to give these to you.” Bless him, he hadn't forgotten about the cakes.

“Did he really say that about 'pretty heads'?” I said to Emma as we waited in the foyer for a taxi to take us home.

“I'm afraid he did,” said Emma, and then in a whisper, “He thinks he's living in the nineteen fifties.”

We both had a fit of the giggles.

When we arrived home, Mum asked us how the meeting had gone.

“Very well,” said Emma. “He had no idea about Harry, and we were even told not to bother our pretty heads about the business talk he was about to have with Duncan and David.”

“Really?” said Mum. “What century does he think he's living in?”

“My sentiments entirely,” said Emma and we all had a good laugh. I must say though that the cakes were delicious.

Later that day David rang and Emma answered the phone. After a few minutes, she came back looking pleased and said “It's all arranged. He'd like a word with you, Harry.”

By now I was back in my boy clothes and was anxious to know how Sir Edgar had responded to the news that his ingénue was not all that she seemed.

“Hi David, how did Sir Edgar respond to your news about me?” I asked.

“To be honest I thought for a moment I'd blown it,” admitted David. “Then he began to laugh and said 'Well you had me fooled'. 'We had no intention of fooling you, Sir Edgar,' I replied. 'We merely wanted to demonstrate that our cast member can easily pass as a girl both on and off stage'.”

“Good thinking on your part,” he replied. “I don't want any of those wretched London tabloids splashing a headline that I'm running a drag show or a pantomime.”

(For those who are not familiar with traditional British pantomimes, cross-dressing is a long tradition. The 'Dame' or older woman is played by a man, and the Principal Boy or hero is played by a young woman, but the audience as always well aware of their real sex.)

“So he's o.k. about it then?”

“With one proviso. From the moment you step on that train to London, to the moment you step off it again at home, you must be in girl mode twenty-four hours a day - understood?”

“Yes David, it's a deal.” Secretly, there was a song in my heart.

The next day there was another review of the play in the local newspaper, accompanied by a picture of Ross and me, and some very complimentary remarks about how I had 'saved the day' for the company. Mum told me that I had better start a scrapbook to hold my reviews, and the following day she bought one for me.

Four days after her surgery, I rang the hospital to see if I could visit Mary. I wasn't looking forward to it. How do you tell someone that you have just taken a role that by rights should be theirs? Nevertheless, I felt I had to do it and I was running out of time before I had to become Harriet, and I certainly couldn't go to the hospital dressed like that. It would be rubbing salt into wounds.

I was given permission for a short visit after I explained who I was, so I bought a posy of flowers and arrived at the ward, my heart-rate rather faster than normal. Fortunately, in view of what I had to tell her, Mary was in a private room on her own. She was slightly propped up in the bed and looking quite pale. I noticed a bouquet of flowers similar to the ones we had received in a vase by the window.

“Why Harry, how nice of you to come and see me,” she said, and sounded quite genuine about it.

“Hello Mary, how are you feeling?”

“Much better than I was. I owe you an apology for lying about visiting the doctor. I thought if I could only make it to the last night then I could see someone then, but as you know it wasn't to be.”

“Mary, I have something to tell you,” I began.

“It's alright Harry, David has been in to see me and explained how you took over at a few hours notice. I already knew because your picture was in the paper and I couldn't believe how well you made up as a girl.”

“Well, there are some talented people in the make-up department as you know, but there's something else I have to tell you.”

“About the London season? David explained that too.” I was beginning to think that I needn't have worried so much about coming to see her.

“I'm really sorry,” I said, and for a moment I meant it. “You should have that part but Sir Edgar was insistent that I do it. David seemed to think that if I didn't, then he would not book the company. I wish there was something I could do.”

Mary managed a smile. “Well unless you can arrange to have appendicitis....”

“Sorry, I had my appendix out when I was ten,” I replied, and we both managed a laugh over that.

“It's alright, I'm not jealous – well maybe just a little bit. David has promised me a great part in the first production next year. I guess it's a consolation prize.”

“David wouldn't give you the part unless he was sure you are the perfect person to play it,” I replied.

A nurse popped her head around the door and said: “Five minutes please.”

“They told me it had to be a short visit,” I explained. “You need rest to recover. Oh, by the way, I'm sure David mentioned that no-one must know about the real me. In fact, I have to be in girl mode for the whole time I'm in London.”

“Do you mind that?” she said.

I could feel myself blushing as I replied “Well, it is kind of fun, pretending to be someone else. It's almost like being on stage but twenty-four seven. Anyway, I had better go before they send Security to throw me out.”

I bent over the bed and kissed her on the cheek.

“Break a leg,” she said. I hoped she didn't mean it literally!

To be continued.

I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Louise Anne in proofreading the text and giving me a great deal of useful advice about modern-day Britain to incorporate in the story.