Yuk, that sounds really messy.’ I said, ‘ so all women go through that, every month!

Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 6

By Susan Brown

There we were sitting in the cabin, me on the bed and Sheila lounging around on the erm… lounger.

‘Yuk, that sounds really messy.’ I said, ‘ so all women go through that, every month!

‘Yep.’

‘Blimey, I’m glad I don’t have to. If I have my whatsit chopped off, would I have periods too?’

‘No, you need a womb for that anyway, your whatsit as you like to call it, isn’t chopped off, it’s sort of inverted…I think.’

‘Sounds a bit weird,’ I said, feeling a bit sick, ‘I don’t spose they sell those womb jobs at Tesco’s*; you know, they sell almost everything else.’

‘Not yet, but give them time; didn’t you do sex and that at school?’

‘No, I was away that day.’

‘But you must have an idea about the birds and the bees?’

‘Yes, of course, I watched Oprah you know, on cable.’

‘What about your mum and dad, didn’t they explain anything?’

‘Not really, we didn’t talk about that sort of thing. I think Mum thought that it was distasteful and Dad always went down the pub when anything like that was on the telly — mum said he had issues, whatever that means. I was a bit silly when I was younger and kept putting things in my mouth. One day I found some little blue triangle pills that looked like sweets on my dad’s bedside table. I ate one and it made me feel all funny and I got a ginormous headache. Mum said that I was silly to eat things like that and I got a smacked bottom, Dad got a telling off too, for leaving them out. It was only later, I found out (On Oprah) what those pills were for, you know s-e-x.’

‘So what you are saying is that you have led a sheltered life.’

‘Spose.’

‘Well, you are in for a rude awakening. Mind you, after Roger the octopus I would have thought that you would be OK dealing with men?’

‘Nothing really happened with Roger, though it could have. Anyway, is there any way I can put Tim off?’

‘Getting cold feet?’

‘Cold body more like it.’

‘I thought you fancied him?’

‘I do..don’t…I mean, I don’t know. Part of me thinks that I’m sick in the head to want a bloke, another part says, oooh he’s dishy and that. I don’t know what I feel.’

‘That’s normal; even I have my doubts about men.’

‘You!’

‘Yes me, don’t laugh like that; I think, though you may not notice much, that I may be a bit over the top with my man chasing.’

‘You could do it at the Olympics and get a gold medal.’

‘Naa, silver maybe, but not gold…’

The phone rang, making us both jump. I went over to answer it.

‘Hello?’

I could here nothing at the other end except breathing.

‘Hello, can I help you?’

Just more breathing, it sounded a bit like an asthmatic sheep to me.

‘Hello, who is it; what do you want?’

The phone went click and there was silence.

‘What was that about?’

‘Don’t know, some person with breathing problems… wrong number I spose.’

The phone rang again and I picked it up.

It was the breathing again.

‘WHAT!!!’ Hello….oh bugger off!’

‘What’s up Toni?’

‘It was him…her…whoever again, wouldn’t talk, just breathed down the phone at me.’

‘I hate that; sounds like a heavy breather…goes around in a dirty mac, reading questionable material and exposing themselves to old grannies. Needs castrating…that sort.’

That graphic thought immediately made me want to cross my legs for some reason. It made me think; if I wanted to be a girl, a real girl I mean, I would have to change my metaphoric outie to an innie. Would I like to go through the hassle not to mention pain and suffering? Lets face it, if I had a cold, I thought that I had double pneumonia and blood…don’t talk to me about blood! Mmm it took some thinking that. I swiftly tried to take my mind off that to another thing that was bothering me.

‘Sheila?’

‘What,’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Course.’

‘Am I boring?’

‘Boring…you! You’ve got to be joking…it’s a laugh a minute around you. I never know what’s going to happen next, why?’

‘Well, I’m worried about my date with Tim.’

‘Why; you’re a nice girl…pretty in a simple wholesome, sickly farm girl sort of way, but I suppose some men like their girls like that.’

‘It’s not that; it’s just…’

‘Come on spit it out to your Auntie Sheila.’

‘Well, I know some people might think that I’m as thick as two short planks and that I can’t play the piano like Stradivarius; though I am good at computers as my dad taught me lots about that but, I don’t want to seem thick, blond and air headed to Tim; I have my pride.’

‘Well, it looks like its time for another lesson, Lotus Blossom. Look, the one thing you need to know about men is that they are more interested about themselves than anyone else. They like to be around beautiful women; they more often as not, are more interested in getting inside your panties than listening to your views on Marx …’

‘Ooh, I liked the Marx Brothers…especially Harpo; he was the one who didn’t talk and kept blowing a taxi horn…’

‘Never mind about that; keeping to the subject; you are sweet, young and painfully innocent…men like that as they can protect and look after you, fold you in their arms and do the manly thing.’

‘Manly thing?’

‘Yes, its what I call the “Me Tarzan, you Jane” thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Most men like to think that they are the dominant species…more fool them… full of wit, strength and enough testosterone to paint Tower Bridge…twice over. They think that their jokes are funny; they’re opinions on politics, finance, sex, marriage and religion are spot on; they also think that women swoon over them and that they are the last word in sartorial elegance.’

‘You haven’t got over your last boyfriend yet, then.’

‘Of course I have; let him rot in hell.’

‘So what are you driving at?’

She seemed to pull herself together.

‘Sorry about that, what were we talking about? Oh yes; look, don’t worry about Tim; he’s a nice boy, he will treat you like a lady and I would be surprised if he tried anything on... especially on the first date.’

‘First and last.’

‘I don’t know. I saw the look on your face when you two were in la la land. Lets see what happens, shall we?’

‘Okay, if you say so, but what will I wear?’

‘Spoken like a true women, lets have a look at your wardrobe…’

We went over to the closet and after rummaging about, throwing clothes hither and thither, Sheila made a pronouncement.

‘It’s no good, we need to go shopping…’

‘Shopping…here?’

‘Yes, I just happened to notice that there are four clothes shops and two shoe shops on board; I’m sure we can find something to spend your uncles money on.’

And so it came to pass that I went forth and spent some dosh on some clothes. It wasn’t easy…I wasn’t used to a spending frenzy like wot Sheila was; I was guided by her wise and some times not so wise views. I wore myself out trying on all types of clothes all the way from Mary Poppins to what Sheila liked to call the femme fatale style. I was surprised at my lack of stamina…I was knackered after the first seven changes, but Sheila was not even into her second wind.

I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of my mega-dressathon; it’s enough to be said that, eventually, I got something that pleased both me and Sheila and I found myself semi comatose on my bed, two and a half hour later, a couple of hundred pounds lighter, but with an expanded wardrobe and a dress to die for, according to Sheila. I hoped that Tim was worth it.

Sheila went for a shower; she too was coming out tonight as this was going to be a foursome. I could hear her singing, “I’m getting married in the morning” — off key as she showered away.

The phone rang and I struggled to get up and answer it.

‘Hello?’

There was just the sound of heavy breathing.

‘Look, whoever you are; go away and get a life!’

I slammed the phone down and started to shake a bit.

‘What’s up?’ Said Sheila, coming in, drying her hair with a towel.

‘It was that heavy breather again.’

‘Right.’ She said all masterful. ‘I’ve had enough of this crap.’

She went over to the phone and picked it up.

‘Hello…get me security…hello, can you get down here please, we have a situation…yes it is Sheila, how did you know? Oh, right, as soon as possible please.’

She slammed the phone down.

‘Right; do you want to get a shower; we only have an hour and a half to titivate ourselves up before the boys come to pick us up.’

‘Okay,’ I said going into the bathroom and shutting the door, not wanting to be around when “security” turned up.

I quickly got undressed and showered; enjoying the jets of cool water as it hit my body and various delicate bits. Soon I was clean from head to foot. I put on my pink slinky wrap and walked out into the bedroom. There, before me stood our friendly coppers, Batman and Robin…I mean, Mick and Dave.

I blushed to my blond roots. I had forgotten that they were coming!

I was pleased that I was covered up, well marginally anyway and that my added extras were not on show… hopefully.

‘Hello,’ I said, rather shyly.

‘Hello Miss, said Mick, ‘nice dressing gown.

‘None of that sexist talk,’ said Sheila taking charge, ‘what are you going to do about it?’

Mick cleared his throat and spoke.

‘Well, as I see it, we have a prima face case against possible perps who have, contrary to various bylaws and statutes, made lude and licentious noises down a telephonic instrument…’

‘Pardon?’ I said in a state of some confusion.

‘He said someone was being naughty down the phone,’ said Sheila.

‘Oh.’

‘Yes, we need to nail him or them and be quick before it escalates,’ said Dave with some gravity.

‘Them?’ I squeaked.

‘Yes, you only heard breathing, I understand.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, it’s hard to tell if it was just one or more than one person phoning you then, isn’t it. The Modus operandi of your criminal occasionally means that they sometimes have accomplices. We need to go deep on this one, eh Mick.’

‘Yup, good job we’re here to look after you and apprehend desperate criminals. Are you happy now, Miss?’

‘Spose.’

‘Right ladies, leave it with us, we’re on the case now.’

‘Thanks Dave; you to Mick,’ I said as they left.

I sat down on the bed rubbing my wet hair with a towel.

‘What do you think Sheila; do you see them finding out who did it?’

‘Not a snowball chance in hell.’

‘That’s what I thought. I won’t answer the phone again.’

‘You’re probably right…let’s get ready, we’re running out of time.’

I thought that an hour and a half was enough time to get ready…it wasn’t. I suppose that’s why girls are always late.

After finishing drying myself, using the dryer on my hair and then tugging said mop into some sort of shape. I then put on my silky undies, the bra was a bugger, plastered on the makeup and squeezed into my dress and shoes; when finished, I had about a minute to spare.

I took a bit of time to look at myself in the floor length mirror. I saw a pretty girl with blond hair, light makeup, shiny pink lips and a dress that was silver and glittery, what Sheila called a boob tube. Talking of boobs, I adjusted the breast forms slightly so they were placed correctly and pointing in the right direction. I didn’t want any more Little Brat With An Ice Cream incidents again. The dress accentuated my rather thin body and hugged me in various places. Luckily, Percy was behaving himself behind two tight pairs of panties and, looking sideways, I could see no tell tale bump.

I then looked at my legs that were encased in sheer hose. I loved the way the hose felt against my skin and emphasised what I think are quite good legs, though I say so myself. The shiny nylons reflected the light a bit and had a wonderful sheen to them…yummy! Finally my eyes travelled down to my shoes, which were silver sandals with three-inch heels. They were a bit difficult to walk on, but accentuated my ankles and made me feel quite girlie.

‘Have you finished looking at yourself?’

‘I suppose, are my hips too big?’

‘I’ve seen bigger hips on a stick insect…you look lovely and you know it, now come on; we’re meeting the boys at the disco.’

I tore my eyes away from the mirror and my gob was truly smacked when I saw what Sheila was wearing.

I remember seeing on cable a program called The Avengers there was a girl on there called Emma Peel, she was heavily into leather and that’s what Sheila was wearing, a leather jump suit. It was so tight, that you could almost see individual muscles and goose pumps under the black sleek leather.

‘Blimey.’ That’s a bit over the top!’

‘’Not too understated?’

‘You will cause a riot wearing that; does it come with a government health warning?’

‘Don’t be funny; lets go.’

As we walked through the various corridors and down several lifts, I was uncomfortably aware of the stares we were getting. My bum was pinched more than once and I must say I was not a happy bunny. I still had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched and this didn’t help my state of mind much.

Eventually, we started following a bit of a crowd, wearing party clothes and I could here the thump, thump of music in the distance coming nearer as we headed towards the disco.

My heart was thumping to the beat of the music as I started to get wound up over the coming meeting with Tim. Part of me wanted to see him — the thought of his smile made me go a bit squishy — another bit of me dreaded the date as I was more than a little bit concerned that I might give myself away and be exposed as a boy.

The noise got suddenly louder as we reached the swing doors leading into the disco. Sheila held me firmly by the arm as she propelled me through the doors into the bright lights and sweaty throng.

Although there were strobe and spot lights dancing all over the place, I couldn’t see much other than several people on the dance floor, gyrating there hips in tune to some sort of jumpy electronic music. We pushed through a crowd of people and fought our way to the bar…more bum touching up made me want to run back to the cabin, but Sheila’s grip on my arm tightened as she sensed my unease and in a few moments we were ordering our drinks. I avoided a thumbscrew or whatever it was called and asked for a cider. Sheila had a rum and coke. We stood by the bar as we waited for the boys. No sign yet but that was no surprise as the place was big and now getting very crowded.

I felt almost naked in my somewhat brief dress. I imagined that everyone was staring at me and wondered if my panties were showing. I looked at the dance floor and sipped my drink. Sheila was ordering another rum and coke and my shoes were tapping on the floor in time with the music.

There was a gap in the dancers on the floor and I saw through to the other side. My heart jumped as I saw that man again. He was wearing what seemed to be the same suit and he was looking straight into my eyes. He had a sort of smile on his face or was it a leer. I turned to grab Sheila.

‘Sheila,’ I shouted over the music, ‘it’s him…’

Sheila turned around, but when I looked, he was gone…again!

I stamped my feet in frustration; I was getting a bit fed up with this.

‘What?’ Said Sheila.

‘Nothing,’ I shouted through my teeth.

I took a big swig of my drink and emptied my glass. After ordering another, Sheila turned to me.

‘Come on, let’s find the boys.’

We worked our way through the mass of bodies. I was feeling quite hot by now; God knows how Sheila was managing trussed up in all that leather; she must have been using industrial strength deodorant.

I glanced over to a corner of the room that didn’t have so many people. It seemed a bit saner over there, so I grabbed
Sheila and made motions that I wanted to go over and park myself for a while. The boys, I thought should be looking for us, not the other way around.

As we arrived, I noticed a couple of men in tee shirt, facing away from us; they had there arms around each other and were swaying to the music. On the back of one tee shirt, was the legend ‘Mums are for life’ and on the other it said ‘not just for Christmas.’

The men turned around as we walked up, but I knew who they were before they turned.

‘Hello Ronald and Derek, fancy seeing you here!’

*Tesco’s — large supermarket that wants to close all the high street shops.

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