Thanks as always to Robyn Hood, Emily and Cressar. And to everyone who has commented and kept with the story :)

Part 7

Tim sits beside me in the car; up front the Livingstons chat. Every now and then Mrs Livingston looks back at me. I imagine she’s worried that I will have somehow evaporated. My head is still numb, only eight hours ago I was Emma Riley.

"You okay?" Tim asks. I just nod my head. If I were a computer my face would be showing the wheel of death indicating buffering. The journey is slow, we hit bad traffic heading out of Manchester and then again going around Birmingham. It rains a little and I trace the raindrops on the window with my finger.

"Shall we stop at the services?" Mrs Livingston (Lily) asks the car. "Are you hungry Chloe dear?" It takes me a while to realise she’s talking to me.

"Err, no." My stomach feels like it’s filled with molten lead. I remember what Kerry
said last night - that my only chance of returning to Emma's life is to win the Livingstons around and add, "thanks"

We pull into the services off the toll motorway. Mr Livingston (Edward) says it’s a chance to stretch our legs. As we get out of the car I think of running but where would I go? They’d catch me quickly if I headed back to Julia, and I'd get her in trouble as well.

As we walk into the food court I look down at my phone. I've been checking it regularly since last night. I sent Poppy an email telling her everything, from who I was (and how old I was) as Mark, to where I was going to now. I told her that I love her. The only thing I left out was about them using the threat of prosecuting her to blackmail me into being Chloe. I didn't want her to blame herself. I still haven't
received a reply.

"Hey thoughtful," Lily ruffles my hair, "what's going on in your head?"

"What do you think?" I sigh.

"I know it will be difficult darling but you'll see, this is for the best." Her eyes glaze over as she speaks. I wonder who she is trying to convince?

We sit down in the gourmet burger bar and the Livingstons go off to buy food leaving me alone with Tim.

"So this is pretty strange huh?" I can't help but stare at him as he speaks. I haven't had chance to properly look at his face properly since we met. Now I look at him straight on and I see Emma reflected back at me. His nose is longer and his chin is a little straighter. He has the same almond shaped eyes. The biggest difference is his red hair. He gets that from his mother.

"So I am a twin?" a triplet if you count the original Chloe.

"Yup, not identical obviously." He even shares some of my mannerisms, like the way he touches his fingers together when he is thinking.

"So you really don't remember me?" he asks.

I shake my head, but there is something familiar about him. Like seeing an old friend in a crowd.

"And you have the memories of a forty year old man?" Tim leans forward; I wonder how much they have told him?

"Thirty six," I say. Is that really all Mark is now, a set of memories stored in my head?

Lily and Edward return carrying two trays laden with food.

"Cheese burger and chips," says Lily as she hands me a meal, "Your favourite."

Her voice is uncertain, there's a note of fear there. I don't have the heart to tell her I don't want to eat it so I just smile weakly reminding myself of Kerry's advice.

I nibble at the chips chewing extra slowly. I try to focus on the food concentrating on this simple task. After a while I start to feel properly hungry; did I even eat anything last night?

"Looks like you are enjoying that," Lily runs her fingers through my short hair, "it is a shame. You used to have such lovely hair," my body tenses up, I don't think I can handle all this touching, "did 'Julia' make you cut it off?"

I shake my head, my mind shutting down. The wheel of death spins again.

"Well, maybe it will grow on me," Lily says, I get the impression this isn't the end of it.

Edward and Lily talk to each other and I go back to my food. I look up at Tim. He eats quickly, unrestrained by the thought of being watched. It makes me smile, reminding me of how I used to eat when 'I', or 'Mark', was a teenager.

Something Edward says catches my attention, "Did you just say something about Doctor Fields?" I ask.

"Yes," Edward looks surprised I've butted in, "He's working for New Body now. He'll be looking in on you from time to time. In fact we really need to arrange a consultation for Chloe in the next couple of days," the last part is directed at Lily and again I am left out of the conversation.

I think about Doctor Fields and how his report on my body led me to be reclassified as a thirteen year old. And now he's working for New Body, with a healthy private sector pay packet no doubt.

"Lily," I say, "can I go the toilet?" hating the fact I have to ask permission.

"Of course dear, but call me mummy," she smiles at me.

It is already dark by the time we reach my new home. The house is new, although built to look like it is Victorian. Tim tells me there's a river that runs behind the house, a tributary of the Thames. The house is set off from a small road with large trees shielding it from view. The street has a number of houses similarly hidden from public view. I guess the rich like their privacy.

Gravel crunches under my feet as I get out of the car. Given the size of the house I half expect a butler and line of maids to meet us as we reach the front door.

"Can I show Chloe her room?" Tim asks his mother. I get the feeling Lily is unsure but answers yes. Tim takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. His arms are strong; my guess is he's good at sports.

First we pass his room and I get a glimpse of posters of rugby players. Not knowing much about the sport I don't recognise any of them.

'My' room is different. It's not overtly girly, there's no pink walls or lacy bedding, but it is definitely the bedroom of a girl in her early teens. On one wall is a poster of a boy band I don't recognise. I spot a MacBook Pro with a sticker of some tween girl singer on the case. There is a cuddly white rabbit sitting amongst the pillows.

I run my hand along the bed's duvet. The cover is pastel yellow, matching the rest of the bedding. The material feels expensive. There's a table next to the bed with three framed photos on it. The first shows Lily and Edward relaxing at some summer party. They are smiling with none of the stress lines I am used to seeing on their faces. The next shows Tim and Chloe on some Mediterranean holiday. My guess is that the two of them are about ten in the picture. I’m surprised to see Chloe with the same red hair as Tim and Lily. Tim, already a fair few inches taller than his sister, has a protective arm around her.

The final photo is of Chloe standing next to another girl. Both girls are wearing Brownie uniforms. They smile nervously back at me. I feel a little faint and have to sit down on the bed, still clutching the Brownies photo.

"You okay?" Tim stands in the doorway of the room, his hands in his pockets.

"To be honest, I don't know," I can feel myself on the verge of tears and I try to fight them back. Tim comes in moving slowly to the bed. Finally he sits down next to me putting a reassuring arm around my shoulders.

"This is all pretty crazy huh?"

"Yeh," I sniff. I start crying properly now. Tim squeezes my arm and, after a moment's hesitation, I rest my head on his shoulder. After a few minutes I pull myself together. Tim is reluctant to go but eventually leaves saying that he's knackered. Only when he has left do I realise how tired I am. I just about have the energy to pull my jeans and jumper off and grab an old t-shirt from my bag. I leave my clothes in a pile in the middle of the floor. Why shouldn't I? Before sleep takes me I check my phone again. There’s still no reply from Poppy.

I wake up in the night, bright moonlight shining in from the window. I was having a nightmare about being shrunk down to the size of a baby and being trapped in a nursery. It takes me a few moments to work out where I am. Looking around the room I notice my clothes have been picked up and hung carefully over the back of a chair. There’s also a glass of water on my bedside table, from which I take a few sips before returning to a restless sleep.

Doctor Field's new office is in an expensive looking research facility outside Milton Keynes, about an hour's drive from the Livingstons’ house. Once again I am lying on a medical bed. Through the large windows that make up one whole wall I can see the first signs of spring. How funny to think it’s only been about eight months since I was Mark.

"How are you feeling?" There is warmth in his voice.

"Fine." There is none in mine.

"I expect you’re getting used to wearing medical gowns," and his voice is
light, ignoring my abruptness. I don't reply.

Once again I have to go through the indignity of a full medical exam, including those freezing stirrups again. Why they can't find a way to heat them I don't know. I let him poke and prod me, putting up no real resistance but not exactly helping him either. Finally he asks me to lie back on the bed before attaching electrodes to my head. I feel warmth spreading through my body, like I ‘ve been immersed in a pleasantly hot bath.

"So now I am going to do a scan of your brain. I want to see what’s happening and let you have access to some of Chloe's memories, the ones that were implanted there before the whole..." his voice trails off and for the first time his pleasant demeanour slips, "... before the whole 'confusion' began."

"The judge says you have to keep Mark's memories," I warn him. "Yes, that’s true," he sounds distant. He turns and looks at the screen of the computer my electrodes are attached to. I watch him typing something into the interface. "But we are allowed to activate the 'Chloe' elements that are already there," he looks at the screen, not me. "From what I’ve heard, some of those programmes have been coming through already?" I shake my head, not knowing what he means.
He looks directly at me for the first time in a while.

"The incident with the Noah boy?" I don't want any more experiences like that.

"Look, I am not sure about this. I should talk this through with Lily and Edward," I say, trying to keep my voice calm and reasonable.

"Don't worry," again he looks away from me, "your parents have already signed the consent forms."

"I really don't think... hey! Why can't I move my body?" It’s true. Everything from my neck down is frozen.

"While you are hooked up your body is controlled from here," and he points dispassionately at the computer. "I've allowed you to keep control over your head and vocal cords, but now I think it’s time for a little sleep."

I start to protest but can do nothing as he places a silver disk on my forehead. I try to shake it off but the world fades to black. Then, nothing.

The next thing I know, I’m waking up on the same bed as before. The room is completely dark. My mouth tastes of metal and my legs and arms all ache. I try to lift my head but can't, it feels too heavy. Hair brushes against my cheeks and I realise it’s long again. How did they do that? What else have they changed about my appearance? I feel like I have gone ten rounds in the boxing ring. I start to cry, I’m not sure why, and then tiredness takes over again.

Back at the Livingston's the next morning I feel withdrawn. My body aches and my head feels cloudy. Lily lets me go straight to bed, saying I’ve been through a lot. Seeing as she's the one putting me through it I don't answer her. Getting up to my bedroom I find a series of packages. At first I think they must be presents from Lily and Edward and almost give them a kick. Then I spot that they have Julia's return address on them.

I rush to open them. I could cry, but this time from joy. She's sent me my records and record player. There's a note too! I rip the paper off and read it:

Hang in there, kiddo. I'll be visiting soon xxx

I want more, a date, a time, more about everyone back home. But it doesn't really matter, I’m so happy I kiss the little note. I spring up and go over to Chloe's notice board. I take down all the photos, swimming certificates, postcards and other things, planning on replacing them all with the note. I only stop when I come to the last photo. It shows Chloe standing between two boys, both much taller than her. This first boy I recognise as Tim, the other I don't know but somehow I can't keep my eyes from him. After a few moments I pull myself together and take it down. I find a cardboard folder in one of the desk drawers and place all the items in it. After a moments thought I put the photo on the top and place the folder back in the drawer.

Returning to my records I spend an age carefully unwrapping each one and checking their condition. I make a space on Chloe's shelf and put them there in order. I spend another half hour deciding on the perfect space for the record player. At first I think next to the bed, but then I worry I’ll knock it over in the middle of the night. Finally I select a space on the desk. It means taking down another photo, this one a team photo for the school hockey team, but that doesn't bother me. I place it in the same drawer as the others. Just before I shut it, my eyes come to rest on Chloe. She looks about twelve, sitting crossed legged in the front row. I recognise her coy smile; I’ve seen it in the mirror many times.

Finally I select a record to play: The Queen is Dead by The Smiths. They want a teenager? I’m going to give it them one. Walking across the room I stop in front of the full-length mirror. Strange, I think, and I stand up on tiptoes. Is it in my mind or am I a little smaller? I put my hand on top of my head and measure it against the backdrop of my room. My head reached just above the third shelf in the bookshelf, now it’s on the same level. But then, I’ve just filled them with records. It probably just looks that way.

The next morning Lily insists we go to the shops. I’m due to start at a new school in a few weeks, right after the Easter holidays. She drives us through a series of villages on our way into Oxford. Each village is made up of ancient looking buildings, all thatched roofs and stone churches. It seemed more like a Hollywood set than the Britain I’ve grown up in.

We finally park in a small car park off the ring road, just outside Oxford city centre. There's a Sainsbury's supermarket on one side and a warehouse on the other. This feels much more like the country I've known all my life. Lily tries to engage me in conversation but I'm not taking the bait. I feel like I'm recovering from the flu. All my joints ache making me feel like I’m eighty. I pull the hood of my hoodie over my head and take a little pleasure when I hear Lily tut.

First there’s a trip to the hairdressers. The shop is large and expensive looking. As we wait there are up to date magazines to flick through and an assistant comes and offers us drink. Lily orders a small glass of Prosecco for herself and a strawberry and apple smoothie for her 'daughter'. I'm too intimidated by the environment to tell her I don't like smoothies. The hairdresser, Jeremy, is a tall thin man with immaculate facial hair, halfway between a full beard and designer stubble. I wonder how often he trims it? He speaks with a German accent and smothers me in so many compliments it’s hard for me to keep my moody persona. Only when I realise that most of the compliments are really directed at Lily, 'your daughter has such great hair, a mix of auburn and red, just like yours', do I start to pout again.

The haircut takes a hell of a long time considering all he really does is add a straight fringe. I still haven't worked out how Doctor Fields made it grow so long? Every time I come to ask I find my nerve going. As Jeremy adds some 'layering', which makes it sound like he's going to coat me in paint, I look at my face. Is my hair turning red? While Jeremy talks to his assistant I turn my head from side to side. I notice a few freckles on the end of my nose; were they there before? It’s a very strange thing not to be able to trust your own face.

With my hair bouncing down either side of my face I’m dragged around one fancy shop after another. The worst is a lingerie shop. I could drop down dead as Lily holds different bras and pants up against me, testing their suitability.

"How about these? They’re for a younger woman, but they’re not too young," she says as she places a pink bra with little bows on it against my chest.

"I don't need new underwear," I hiss. "Julia bought me plenty."

"I don't know sweetheart," Lily looks at me appraisingly, "I'd say your bras are a little loose on you." She turns back to the bras and picks out more for me to try. I feel slighted, like a boy whose been told his penis is small. Absentmindedly I reach up and feel my breasts. I suppose they are a little on the small side. Up until now I've been glad they aren't so noticeable; now I find myself crossing my arms defensively. Lily turns back to me and sees my arms crossed.

"Don't worry dear, the right bra can do wonders," she winks. I can feel my face burning red, both with anger and embarrassment. Without looking at me she thrusts five or six bras into my arms. I storm off to the changing room not able to look the girl who hands me the token in the eyes as I enter.

With a sigh I remember coming into the changing rooms in the Arndale Centre with Poppy and Esse. These ones are much bigger with comfortable seating in the centre of a circle of ten cubicles. All the surfaces of the walls and cubicles are covered in mirrors giving me the uneasy feeling of been surrounded by hundreds of my clones. I feel slightly strange looking at myself head to toe. Rather than making me look tough and in control my skinny jeans and hoodie make me look young and small.

After what feels like hours of being dragged around to shop after shop we finally reach the highlight of our tour. Jacksons looks like a shop from Harry Potter. The Victorian-like windows are filled with four child-sized mannequins each in different private school uniforms. I sigh as we get close.

"So you are sending me off to boarding school?" I feel only contempt; they’ve gone to all this trouble to take me from my chosen world only to dump me on to a bunch of overpaid private school teachers. Julia would never have done this.

"No, no," says Lily smiling to herself, "not every private school is boarding only. Saint Anne's is for day pupils as well." She looks at me directly and adds, "I'm not losing you again." I sigh again - I should have guessed.

Mr Jackson is easily in his fifties with thin, almost white hair, and small spectacles. I dislike the way he moves me without asking talking directly to Lily and ignoring me.

We try on several uniforms all with a red and gold theme. There’s a gingham summer dress, pleated skirt and grey V-necked jumper and blazer both with a red, black and gold coat of arms over the left breast. With the dress, blazer, and skirt Mr Jackson ads pins to help shape them. Several pins stick into me making me jump.

"Can you tell her to stand still," and again he speaks to Lily, not to me. I ball my fists, wanting to strike out at him. I think Lily must see this because she tells me to calm down and do as Mr Jackson says. I’m about to lose it with her when I hear myself speaking.

"Yes, Mummy. Sorry, Mr Jackson." I want to scream. I feel like I’m going to go postal, but then something strange happens. I find myself relaxing and letting Mr Jackson move me around as he goes about his business. Later, while they try out different straw boaters on me he looks directly at me and I even find myself smiling back at him. During the car ride home I am quiet looking out of the window. I wonder what is happening to me and what am I becoming?

"There’s something we need to talk about," Lily says, looking over at me. You’re telling me? I think.

"What?" I can hear the sulky teenager in my voice.

"Next weekend is your first visit with this Julia woman," Lily turns back to the road her expression unreadable. Yes! I’ve been so caught up in my own misery that I’d forgotten.

"Are you okay with that? You don't have to if you don't want to..." There’s hope in her voice but she keeps her eyes on the road.

"I can't wait," I say, folding my arms. I see her shoulders slump and for a moment I feel bad.

"Fine, but it’s the weekend before you return to school so I want you back in time for Sunday lunch.” Her voice is tough and superior again and I lose all my new-found sympathy for her. "We have some friends coming over to celebrate," she adds.

Nine o'clock in the morning, still an hour left until we leave to meet Julia. I watch the light rain from an April shower spatter against the window pain. The record I’ve been listening to has finished and I don't have the energy to change it. I keep thinking how things could go wrong. What if Julia is caught in traffic and is hours late, what if something happens at work and she can't come at all? I needn't have worried as moments later I receive a text:

Julia: I’m here, can't wait to see you! Xxx

I hold the phone to my chest, feeling like I could shout for joy. I text her back telling her how excited I am. I wonder if she's seen or heard anything from Poppy? The thought puts a dent in my mood.

We meet at a chain coffee shop near the centre of Oxford. I can see her through the window as we approach. The road is busy so we are waiting on the opposite side for a while. She’s reading a book, or at least trying to. Every couple of minutes she looks up at the door. It feels odd walking in with Edward, as if he's my personal guard. He takes off his coat as we go inside. It is strange to see him not wearing a suit. He seems smaller and less dominant, somehow.

Julia stands up, waving to me although she must know I've seen her. I might once have been embarrassed but now I’m filled with happiness. I can't stop myself running to her and hugging her. We are both crying; inwardly I’m grateful it is still early-ish on a Friday and so there aren't too many onlookers.

After a couple of minutes Edward speaks, "Chloe, why don't you go and buy yourself something," he says, handing me a ten pound note. "Julia and I just need to talk before I leave." I’m suspicious but when I look at Julia she nods her consent. One of the old women from the back of the shop gets to the counter before me. She takes an age chatting with the employee, a mixed-race guy somewhere in his late teens, about how the shop used to be butchers. The slowness of her ordering infuriates me. I want to get back quickly so I can find out what Edward and Julia are talking about. I look over and see their faces are grey and serious.

Looking back the old woman is now counting out her money on the counter. Over her back the young man smiles conspiratorially at me. He's quite handsome in a young, teenage way. I feel my cheeks getting warm as I watch the way his auburn hair falls in front of his blue eyes. I snap out of it as the woman hands him her little piles of change. When it comes to my turn I have difficulty getting my words out.

"Er..." For a moment, I worry I’m just going to stare at him. He smiles at me in a friendly manner.

"Can't make your mind up?"

"No, I mean yes," and I know I’m blushing even more now. "I'll have a black Americano please." His smile becomes even broader.

"Unusual choice for a girl."

"I like my coffee like my men, strong and black," I reply, quoting the film ‘Airplane’ but as soon as I've said it I know how it must sound.

"Sorry," I say, "that was a stupid thing to say." He laughs a little to himself.

"You've got good taste, girl." He then sets about making my coffee.

"Can I have a slice of cake as well?" One of the plus sides of being a teenager again is that my increased metabolism means I can eat what I like.

"Chocolate?" he replies without missing a beat.

I take my drink and cake back to the table. Julia looks at me concerned and puts a hand against my forehead.

"Are you okay?" she asks, "You aren't running a fever are you? You look hot."

"No," I stammer, "it's just the central heating in here." Edward makes his goodbyes and leaves. Julia turns to me.

"My, my. I almost didn't recognise you. How did your hair grow so quickly?" I lift up the hair on either side of my face, fanning it out.

"Robot girl, remember?"

"Still, drastically changing your hairstyle in just a month, some would say you’re fickle," Julia smiles at me.

"Wasn't my choice," I reply, "I woke up like this."

"They did this to you without asking?" Julia is shocked. We spend the next few minutes bitching about the Livingstons. I tell Julia how Lily always brings the subject around to her modelling days or how I discovered Edward's secret stash of whisky in his study. When the conversation gets around to Tim I go quiet. I skip over him not wanting Julia to know about the connection we have.

"How are things back in Manc? Richard and the boys okay?" I ask, nervous about bringing up the subject but not sure why.

"Oh, he's great. He's bringing the boys down tomorrow and picking Greta up on the way." She must see my bemused expression. "Surely you must know all this from my emails?"

"What emails?" My voice has gone up an octave. It sounds so squeaky it makes me squirm.

"The emails I've been sending you. You do have access to the internet, don't you?" She asks, looking shocked.

"I do, but I've had no emails. Not from anyone back home," I shake my head. They must be blocking them somehow. I think of Poppy, hope and despair both burn brightly.

We talk rapidly about what to do and Julia promises to contact Kerry as soon as we get back to the hotel. As we get up to leave Julia turns to me.

"You know, even without the hair there’s something different about you." Does she mean my height? Has she noticed something? Are they shrinking me?

"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice wavering.

"The dress," she points to the blue dress (with red tights) I’m wearing. It’s one of the dresses Lily bought for me on our shopping trip, "somehow they've got you out of your hoodie and skinny jeans."

Again I am blushing, "They had to use brainwashing to do it."

As we leave the young man behind the till waves and shouts goodbye. I have to look away to avoid Julia seeing me turn bright red.

I say my goodbyes to Richard, Greta and the boys at the hotel. Both Julia and I are silent through out the car journey. Too soon we’re pulling along the leafy road to Chloe's house. So many thoughts are running around my head. I try to push them out using the lyrics of a song, ‘Birdhouse in your Soul’ by They Might Be Giants:

‘Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch

Who watches over you

Make a little birdhouse in your soul

Not to put too fine a point on it

Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet

Make a little birdhouse in your soul’

It works for a moment. The world is transformed into a scene from a music video (do they still make those?). Julia looks at me, "Are you smiling?" she asks, sounding a little hurt.

"I was just thinking how much fun I had, and how it won’t be so long till I see you again," I smile, thinking how strange it is to be looking up at the woman who was once my wife.

It seems to be all too much for Julia; she bursts into tears as we pull up. Wiping them away she mutters, "I wasn't going to do that," as I take her hand. I can see Lily waiting for us at the door. I feel the anger rising in me. She looks so frail and timid just standing there. She has no right to look that way, not with what she’s doing to us.

We get out of the car and walk gingerly up the gravel pathway. Julia has parked on the road, as if she wasn't sure she'd be allowed to come onto the grounds of the house. I feel awkward walking towards Lily; I want to take Julia's hand in a gesture of support but I worry I'd be getting her into trouble.

"You’re late," Lily speaks to Julia - I am not included.

"Sorry," Julia starts. "Only by twenty minutes, I'm still getting used to the layout of Oxford." They chat for a few minutes about how we spent the weekend. Julia tells Lily about the museums we visited and where we went to eat. For a brief moment there’s a thawing in the Cold War between the two women. Then it’s gone.

"Emma," Julia eyes Lily's stoney expression suspiciously, "Sorry, 'Chloe'," she turns to me, "I'll see you again next month." She flings her arms around me, "Stay strong," she whispers to me. I just nod my head as she holds me by the shoulders.

Lily leads me into to the house. I try not to look back, but I can't stand it and turn around, only I am too late and the door has closed before I get a chance to see Julia one last time. I am tortured by visions of her standing there, alone on the vast gravel path.

"Okay, dear," Lily's voice pulls me back into the room, "we don't have much time, we need to get you ready. The Mathews will be here in fifteen minutes." I nod my head, not knowing to whom she is referring. She runs her hands through my hair, I want to pull back but don't, "At least she got you to wash your hair," Lily says, more to herself than to me. "I've put out clothes for you in your room."

My blood boils and I want to shout and scream at her, but I feel my anger fading as it gets to my mouth. In the end I just storm off up stairs, glad to be away from her.

As I get to the door of the room I feel a little faint. Outside the early spring sun is high and the smell of freshly cut grass is coming through the window. My mind wanders to being sat on the grass next to Mummy watching Tim and a boy called Alex playing tennis on the lawn. I can feel the soft fabric of my red skirt underneath my legs. Both boys look huge to me as I sit on the floor. The ball wizzes past me causing Mummy to say something to the boys. Alex says sorry, then he looks at me and grins.

"You are okay aren't you Sprout?"

Then I come around. I’m lying on top of my bed resting next to the bluey-purple dress Lily has laid out for me. I feel my forehead but it isn't warm. I do feel warm down below. Shit, have I just had the female equivalent of a wet dream? I hug my knees up to my chest, the only time I have felt those feelings, in this body, has been around Poppy. The memory I just accessed was clearly one of Chloe's. I thought of Lily as Mummy and had feelings for this Alex.

Are there more of these memories to come? I shudder as I think of my own thoughts and memories being slowly pushed out by the ghost of Chloe. Without really thinking about it I begin getting ready. Something about the movement calms me down. Perhaps it’s just having something to do. The dress is a check primrose pinafore dress, with a yellow t-shirt to go underneath. For a moment I wonder how I know all that.

Once dressed I go and stand at the mirror, smoothing down any creases as I turn, checking each side. The action calms me down a little more. I choose a record, ‘Pet Sounds’ by the Beach Boys, and put it on. I lie down on the bed, spreading my arms and legs out like a starfish. The sounds mingle with the warm air coming in and I feel a little drowsy. Only the fear of another of Chloe's memories stops me from falling asleep. I’m not sure how long I lie there for, probably not that long, but the door bell rings before the record reaches its second side.

I hear both Lily and Edward calling my name and Tim's feet running down the stairs. I pull myself up hearing new voices in the hallway. As I reach the top of the stairs I see three people. A middle-aged couple, the man balding slightly but with an air of respectability. He wears a polo-neck t-shirt and blue slacks. The woman has the look of faded beauty, her summer dress slightly too small for her expanding waist. It is the third person, a boy, who catches my eye. Unmistakably it’s Alex, the boy from Chloe's daydream. I feel odd, as if caught masturbating. I walk down the stairs my arms and legs suddenly feeling disjointed and awkward. My mind is taken up with concentrating on not falling over. Alex looks a little older than in the daydream, maybe a year or so older than Tim and I. Alex and his parents stare up at me.

"Why, she looks..." the man stammers, "it… it's quite astounding."

"Isn't it," Lily pulls me close to her as I get closer. "We have our little Chloe back," her voice full of joy.

Throughout the meal I feel odd. Firstly, because I’m aware of the controls working on me. Normally they present as a nudge, something like an urge, at the back of my head. It’s like being addicted to cigarettes, or feeling desperate for a drink of water. Also, all through the meal I feel like I’m running on autopilot. I take only small amounts of food, and only when it’s offered to me. I only speak when asked a question. Secondly, because I can't help shooting little glances at Alex. Once I catch Lily looking at me and I don't like the knowing expression on her face. Mrs Mathews (Laura) asks me if I am looking forward to returning to school.

"I’m nervous but excited. I can't wait to make new friends," I say, my voice sounding breathless and girlish, which disturbs me.

Only when we go outside to enjoy the last of the sun do I start to feel myself again. As the adults are in the gazebo talking amongst themselves. I spy Tim and Alex sneaking off towards the boathouse on the edge of the river. After a moments hesitation I follow them. By the time I reach them, Tim has pulled out a cigarette and passed one to Alex.

"Hey, you shouldn't be here," Tim chides me.

"No reason why I can't," I say annoyed at the pout in my voice. "Anyway, you shouldn't speak to me like I'm your little sister. We’re twins, remember?" I notice Alex can't quite look at me, but eventually he speaks.

"Go on, let her haveone too." Tim shrugs and hands me a cig. I put it in my mouth and look at them.

"Got a lighter?" They both laugh.

"What?" I say. Tim looks to Alex and they both grin sheepishly.

"I can't quite get over you having a Mancunian accent," Alex laughs. "Tim said it was strange." I shrug and accept the flame from Alex's lighter. Tim looks around the corner keeping an eye out for the old people. At first my cigarette won’t light and I have to move closer, blocking out the gentle breeze. Before I know what’s happening, Alex reaches up and pushes a rebellious strand of hair behind my ear.

"You should be careful," he say, shooting me the same smile as the one from Chloe's daydream, "You don't want that red hair catching on fire."

The next day is Monday, my first day back at school. The weather is still unseasonably warm so I select the gingham dress to wear. I stand in front of my mirror assessing how I look. The dress fits fine but the school blazer, which I am obliged to wear through the whole academic year, looks too big. I grimace at myself convinced I look even younger than the thirteen years I am forced to pretend to be. Lily yells for the third time that we’re running late. I stick my tongue out at the mirror; I don't know what she’s complaining about, it’s not like she has to get to work or anything.

Tim waves me off at the front door. He’ll be returning to his boarding school on Wednesday. It feels funny for him to be leaving, he's the only person I can really talk to here.

The drive feels odd. I know they picked a school the original Chloe didn't attend, since they don't want me to be treated anything other than 'normal'. Thinking about it with my arms crossed I laugh. I'm a thirty six year old man in the body of a thirteen year old girl; how normal do they think I’m going to be?

"Why do you laugh?" Damn, Lily has caught me.

"Oh, nothing," I say, hoping to sound mysterious. I see her still watching me so add, "Just a joke Alex made yesterday." I feel my cheeks turn red, why did I chose Alex? I could have picked Tim, the lie would still have been the same. I see Lily smirking in the mirror and fold my arms in a huff.

The school looks expensive. There's a sign on the gate advertising its new gym and Olympic sized swimming pool. The building is mostly an old (but well maintained) Victorian edifice, but there's a modern annex on one side that's mainly metal and glass. As we get out in the car park I watch the other girls stream in. They look so different to from what I’m used to. I’m now going to be spending my day in a totally female environment. What's worse is that they will see me as one of them.

My first day is spent like most first days, trying to find my way around. About half of the girls tower above me and I have to spend much of my time ducking to avoid the swinging of their bags. The older girls already have their cliques and stand around in gangs; are they trying to intimidate me? Compared with what I’ve seen in comprehensive schools they’re not all that, but still I keep away from them.

At least I’m no longer the smallest in my year. In fact there are only a couple of girls taller than me in last class. This is English Lit, something I've been looking forward to. It’s noticeable how much smaller the classes are at a private school, only going to show how unequal our society has become. I sit near the back hoping to avoid being noticed. I don't know how long I’ll be here, it could be nearly another three years. I have no intention of finding trouble. The teacher has started reading the register when a group of four girls walk in late.

"Sorry Mrs Stubbs," says a tall blonde girl, clearly the group's leader. Her skirt is a few inches shorter than school regulations permit and I can smell the faint whiff of perfume. They come and sit at the table in front of mine. Without realising it, I have been staring at the tall blonde.

"What are you looking at?" she hisses at me. I just shrug my shoulders, not knowing what to say. She stares daggers back at me; so much for staying out of trouble!

The rest of the lesson continues uneventfully. Mrs Stubbs, with her thin reedy voice, isn't a patch on Mr Hulse but the book we’re doing, The Great Gatsby, is one of my favourites. Halfway through we have to pick a study partner. At first I’m worried I’m going to be left alone but a short Asian girl wearing spectacles comes over to me and offers me her hand.

"Hi" she says, "I’m Andi." Her accent sounds American to me.

"Hi Andi," I take her hand, grateful that someone’s speaking to me. It’s not lost on me that the 'mean girls' clique are glancing our way.

"Don't worry about them," Andi's voice is quiet. "Tina and her gang hate everyone", she smiles.

Andi and I sit down and start working through our question sheet. At some point Mrs Stubbs must have crept behind me as I jump when she speaks just behind my ear.

"Very impressive, Chloe!” she says. “How did you know about the poster with the eyes being added after F Scott saw the cover design?"

"Just read it somewhere I suppose," I say. I had, of course, covered this book at university.

When Mrs Stubbs has left, Tina turns around and mouths, "Just read itsomewhere" at me, then hisses "swot!"

I just shrug at her, I suppose it is a bit swot-like, but Andi pretends to winch up her middle finger. This earns laughter from me and looks of horror from Tina and her gang.

"Mrs!" Tina calls out, "Andi just gave me the finger!" The class erupts into a fit of giggles. I relax a little; clearly Tina is no formidable enemy like Jessie. No one likes a snitch, not even the teachers. The bell rings and I start packing up my bags.

"One more thing girls," Mrs Stubbs shrill voice cuts through our chatter. "It is our turn to put on this term's school play." She moves through the class handing out flyers. "This term we’re covering the Great Gatsby, so Mrs Turner will be expecting a good turn out from this class at the auditions." She hands Andi and I a flyer each that we study closely. There's a stylised drawing of a flapper girl along with a time and date about two weeks from now.

"Do you think you'll try out?" Andi asks. At first I was thinking of throwing it away; why would I need the extra hassle? Then I think it might be a good excuse to get me out of the house.

"Maybe," I say.

"You should," she enthuses.

Maybe I should. After all, who knows more about pretending to be someone
else than me?

The weeks pass by slowly. The brief period of good weather has gone and we’re met with the more seasonal showers. The house feels strange with Tim gone. I'll often go lie on his bed of an evening staring at the posters on his wall. Along with the usual rugby posters there's one of a model with next to nothing on draped over a car bonnet. I'll often bring my homework in with me, but then find my eyes drifting to the model's vacant stare. I’m half wanting to kiss her, half angry that he's turned on by such a crappy stereotype of womanhood.

One evening Lily catches me in there. At first I think she's going to hit the roof as she normally does when I stray from the good-little-Chloe path. However she just smiles at me knowingly and tells me that she misses him as well. After that I stop going in there, not wanting to give Lily a victory.

I’m becoming good friends with Andi; we both stand out against the plastic rich girls who surround us. Her mother is a Japanese musician who came to the UK to study, her father is a writer of Sci-fi books. I make a note of his name and plan to check him out. Unlike me, she’s a live-in student, staying in the dorms. Her father, whom she clearly adores, has to do book reading tours and her mother is often away touring with her orchestra. She has developed a thick skin to cope and is more than happy to tell Tina and the others where to go.

"I hate the meek little Japanese girl stereotype," she tells me. "Fuck that."

Curfew for the boarding girls is at nine o'clock so we'll often go and hang out in the village. Sometimes at the library, which has a coffee shop attached, other times we'll hang around one of the buss shelters smoking cigs. Funny, I was never much of a smoker as a guy. One evening two lads from the local comprehensive join us. One of them, Rick, dominates the conversation.

"Yeah, you should have been here last week, it proper kicked off." I smile at his attempts to sound tough as I sit on the top of the bench, my feet on the seat and my elbows resting on my knees. He keeps glancing at me, which makes me smile, but I can tell Andi is a little interested.

Rick's mate is called Billy. He has slightly longer hair than Rick and seems more shy. He laughs at Rick's jokes but has a way that restrains, even calms him down. He seems the more interesting to me than Rick and I suspect he'd make a better choice for Andi as well.

"What's that?" I say, pointing at the black folder under Billy's arm.

"Nothing, just life drawing," he smiles. His voice is soft and I have to strain to hear him.

"Life drawing?" I say, "my girlfriend does that, give us a look," I say,extending my hand to take it.

The boys look a little shocked but Andi just smiles wisely; I’ve already told her.

"Okay then," he says, handing me his folder. As I flick through he talks to me.

"So, you’re gay then?"

"Yup," I say, not wanting to dwell on it.

"Cool," he smiles. It is a genuine smile. He looks over at his friend who seems a little uncomfortable. "Don't mind him, he's slow but he'll get there." Billy winks at me and I think how he's not bad looking, all he needs is some extra confidence. I should find a way to set Andi up with him.

I tell Billy his drawings are good, because they are, especially for a fourteen year old. We keep talking, mainly about things I don't really know much about such as Pokemon Go. I just nod and smile, pretending to fit, pretty much like most teenagers. These guys are nice but I'm missing my Manchester Crew. I glance down at my watch - it says half seven. I'm going to be in trouble, I should be back by now.

"Hey, want to go to the chippy?" asks Rick.

"Sure," says Andi, leaping off the bench. She's really in to him, even though Billy would be perfect for her. They remind me a bit of Pete and Esse I think.

"No can do," I say with a sigh. My visit with Julia is coming up soon, I don't want to give Lily any excuse to cancel. Andi practically begs me, and the guys add extra peer pressure.

"No, sorry girlfriend, the evil witch has got me on a tight leash." I feel bad, as I know she feels awkward about hanging out with them on her own.

"Hey, no worries," Andi finally gives up, "how about we walk home together?" I agree, happy not to be walking alone in the dark. The Livingstons’ house is on the way back to the school from where we are. I take out my phone and start texting Lily that I’m on my way. Rick looks crestfallen, but Billy smiles at us.

"Why don't we hang out some time?" he asks. I see Andi smiling at me hopefully.

"Sure," I say. What can be the harm? He knows I’m gay.

"Give me your phone." Before I can answer he’s taken it out of my hand. He flicks through to my contacts and enters his name and number.

"Text me," he says, "then I'll have your number."

I just nod dumbly. I stay silent on the walk back as Andi rabbits on about Rick and how cute he is. "Billy's pretty cute too," she adds, then looks at me strangely. "Are you sure you’re gay?"

"As sure as you can be," I reply, but my mind wanders to Alex and how his hair falls in front of his eyes. Andi says goodbye at the end of my road. We hug, it’s been a good evening. The road is well lit, but many of the lampposts have been shielded by the braches of trees casting long shadows across the road. As I get closer to the Livingstons’ house I notice a shadow across the street moving. Something about it catches my eye and I turn around. I stand still for a moment imagining murderers and rapists hidden in every dark corner. Then a fox emerges from behind a bush and scurries across the road. It looks a lot healthier then the urban foxes I am used to seeing in London and Manchester, but other than that there's nothing strange about the sight. It is easy to get paranoid in this small body.

Saint Anne's has a large, purpose built building to house the drama department. The hallways of which are lined with photos of previous productions. I look at them as we wait outside the main hall to be called in. The costumes are impressive, more like something you'dexpect to find in a small regional theatre than a school.

Andi and Lotte her friend from the dorms, wait with me. I've not spoken to Lotte much; she is in the year above me, but she seems pleasant enough. She has long blond hair she lets fall in front of her face, the way young girls do when they are shy.

"What part do you think you'll audition for?" Lotte asks. I shrug.

"Daisy I suppose?" I hadn't really thought about it. This is really just an excuse to get me away from Lily and Edward one night a week. I guess this being an all girl's school I could try out for Nick Caraway or even Jay Gatsby. Might be nice to wear the trousers again...

"I think all the girls will go for Daisy, it might be risky..." Lotte looks concerned as she says this and is cut off when Mrs Turner invites us all to come into the hall. About thirty or so girls file in. The hall is large and seems brand new. It looks like half the trees in Scandinavia have gone into the panelling around the walls and floor.

Mrs Turner and her two assistants, both girls of around university age, split us up into small groups and get us to stand in circles. Sadly, Andi is put into another group away from Lotte and me. One of the teaching assistants, a tall girl with short auburn hair, comes and joins us. Mrs Turner tells us we are going to be doing a series of improv exercises to warm up. I hear groans from the other girls; like me they suspect we’re going to spend half an hour pretending to be trees.

The improv actually isn't that bad. The teaching assistant, who introduces herself as Claire, goes around the group giving each of us a character and then asking the group for a setting. Lotte gets a bear in a tearoom and actually does a very funny impression of a grizzly sipping out of a dainty little teacup trying not to be noticed. Claire laughs, and I’m pleased to see her making notes on her little clipboard.

When it gets to my turn Claire announces I'll be a middle aged man (for a moment, I worry she knows) and the girls suggest I pretend to be in a pub. I give it a go, shutting my eyes and accessing the 'Mark' part of my brain. For about two minutes I turn a conversation I once had into a little monologue about talking to women in pubs, but not being able to hear over the noise. By the end Claire is smiling at me.

"Not bad," she says, "but you need to work on your mannerisms." She puts a reassuring hand on my arm, "I don't think anyone would mistake you for a guy," she smiles kindly. I guess she meant it as a compliment. After about half an hour we are brought back into a single group. Lotte and I go ad stand next to Andi near the back. Mrs Turner tells us she’s going to ask us to come up in pairs and read sections of dialogue.

The first up is Tina and an older girl. Mrs Turner gets them to try the scene where Nick asks Daisy of if she knows Gatsby. First she gets Tina to play Daisy and then she swaps it around. Tina makes a timid Daisy but even I have to admit she's pretty good as Nick.

We sit on the floor as everyone’s asked to come up in ones and twos. I can feel the polished floor against my bare skin as I sit cross-legged. Lotte and Andi chat away but my mind is drifting. I think of Poppy and wonder what she’s doing right now - is she thinking of me? I haven't tried to contact her since I discovered my emails, and possibly my texts as well, are being blocked. I have half a plan to buy a disposable phone, but I haven't put it into action. Would Julia help me? She doesn't like the Livingstons but she's also sticking by Kerry's plan to try and win them over.

"Hey, cloth ears," Andi nudges me, "they just called you and Lotte." I look up and see Lotte is already halfway to the stage. I jump up as fast as I can and nearly topple backwards.

"Careful Bambi," a voice calls out from behind me and I turn to see some of Tina's friends tittering behind me. I pull my little shorts back into shape and check that my t-shirt is still tucked in right then set off not looking back. Mrs Turner asks Lotte and me to improvise a scene where Daisy and her friend Jordan Baker are talking together. She then gets us to do it again, this time with the two friends gossiping about Gatsby and Nick. I try channelling Kathryn Hepburn and am surprised at how good my New England accent sounds; I was never much of a mimic. Lotte’s even better. The whole hall creases up at her Valley Girl impression. Only the two girls who came with Tina look unimpressed. The expressions on their faces make them look like they just swallowed wasps. Tina, however, doesn't look upset; in fact she has a very serious look on her face. She must be really into her acting.

Eventually Mrs Turner says "Go and sit down". Lotte is beaming as Claire leads her down the steps. I can see the play will be good for her confidence. Just as I start to follow I feel a hand resting on my shoulder. It is Mrs Turner's.

"Not you dear, I just want to try one more thing out." She turns to the audience. "Tina, Tina Abbot, can you come up here please?" I see Tina get up and walk slowly towards that stage. I can't read the expression on her face; I hope this doesn't mean trouble.

After Mrs Turner whispers something to them the teaching assistants bring out two plastic chairs and put them next to each other. I look nervously at Claire, who just winks at me. Clearly she thinks this is going well.

"Right, sit down." Mrs Turner gestures for us both to sit next to each other. We do, neither of us looking directly at the other.

"Chloe, I want you to be Daisy, and Tina I want you to be Gatsby." We both look at her and nod without saying anything. Why am I always the girl?

"Now I want you to play out a scene where your two characters meet again for the first time in years, but I want you to do it without speaking."

I sit there nervously, but Tina throws herself right into it. I’m impressed with how she can transform herself with only a change in posture and a few small movements.

Pushing myself to get into it I turn my back to her, pretending to be scared. Tina puts a hand on my arm trying to pull me around but quickly takes it back, as if scared by the violence of her own action. I look at the red marks on my arm (she really did grab it hard, a proper method actor). I rub my arm as the marks disappear. Then I feel Tina / Jay's fingers on me again. We’re sitting back to back but 'he' strokes my arm with a great deal of tenderness. I try to turn my head but pull back, imagining I’m fighting the fear my brute of a husband will see us. Then I feel Tina putting her hand over my hand, intertwining her fingers with mine.

I don't know if it is acting, but the gesture reminds me of Poppy and I find myself leaning against Tina's back, wishing the warmth of her body was Poppy's.

"Great, just great. Lets end it there." I look up to see Mrs Turner beaming at us. There is even some applause from the crowd. That's as near to ecstatic as you'll get for a bunch of moody teenage girls. As we move to return to the crowd Mrs Turner whispers to us, "I think I may have found my Gatsby and Daisy." I look over at Tina who’s smiling to herself. Oh shit, what have I got myself into?

"Are you coming to the chip shop?" Andi asks me about fifteen minutes later.

"Sure," I say . I'll text Lily telling her the auditions have overrun. I lied earlier and said one of the other girl's parents has offered me a lift home. The girl in question is Suzy from my maths class; I know she'll back me up if I need her to.

"Do you think those boys will be there?" asks Lotte, who's keen to meet Rick and Billy. I guess that's what happens when you live and study at an all-girl's school.

Sadly, Lotte is let down. When we get to the chip shop the boys are nowhere to be seen. We buy a bag of chips between us and take them over to the bus stop. It is late and the stars are already out above us. One of the few perks about my new life in the Oxfordshire countryside is being able to see the night sky.

Lotte and Andi are gossiping about the boys. Andi sounds very impressed with Rick and again I feel a little bad for Billy. I guess it’s a story as old as the hills, teenage girl falls for the bad boy and overlooks the shy friend. I grab a couple of chips while the girls are gabbing. I think again of my plan to contact Poppy. I can't risk telling Julia, if she thinks it is a bad idea she could kill my only chance. I remember the animosity between her and Poppy. No, my best chance is to slip away during Julia's next visit and buy a cheap disposable phone and some credit. I have Poppy's number in my Iphone, even if it won't work. I’m sure I can persuade Julia to take me shopping.

"Hey," I realise Andi is speaking to me, "we have to get going, it's nearly curfew." I look at my watch – shit, is it that late? With all my head full of thoughts of Poppy I hadn't noticed it has gone dark. What an airhead!

The girls walk me back to the end of my road. We hug when we get there and talk excitedly about the play. Both Lotte and Andi think I'll be a shoo-in for one of the leads. I think about what Mrs Turner said but keep quiet, I don't want to sound bigheaded.

"I couldn't believe it when you started doing that American accent. It was perfect," gushes Lotte.

"I’m sure it wasn't," I mumble. She's just being a friend. After hugging them both I set off down my road. The trees are swaying in the gentle wind. Most of them have new leaves now and they cast shadows as I walk. I am humming the song ‘Everybody Loves My Baby’, happily lost in my own little world when something makes me stop. Beneath the tree at the end of our drive is a dark shape, like a large bag or sack. As I get closer I see it is a person, a young woman about
my current age.

As I get closer my mind is full crazy theories as to whom it could be. For a moment I almost convince myself it is the ghost of the real Chloe, come to haunt me. Then I think it must be Poppy. Hope overwhelms commonsense; the figure is about the right age and size.

I am almost running to her now. I get there and grab the figure's shoulder realising that Poppy must be asleep. The figure stirs, her face hidden by a hood pulled over the head. A slim hand pulls back the hood and I’m suddenly staring at a face I recognise immediately.

"J-Jessie?" I stammer. "Is that you?"