ANYONE FOR TENNIS?
alternatively titled…..Can’t You Just Call The Game Off, Mr Umpire?

By Christine Myr.

Before anyone should start reading this story (parody), please be warned that it’s approx. 26,200 words long (or 42 Word pages), which one reader mentioned about after my last effort, since I inadvertently mislabelled that story’s length when setting up it up on B.C and genuinely apologise to anyone else who was cross with my mistake.

Anyhow now you’ve all been made aware of its length, it also mightn’t be a bad idea to think about making yourself a snack so you can fortify yourself while reading the story, which hopefully you’ll enjoy reading as much as I did writing it for you. (C.M.)
- See Emily 63, I finally did get round to doing it.

40-15 called out my friend and teammate Mark who was umpiring the game. After missing the return volley to my opponent’s next serve I walked to the net to shake my opponent's hand as my friend announced “Match Hambone, six games to three..... Hambone leads Mowbray six matches to four. Mixed doubles match in five minutes” Mark said before climbing down from the umpire’s chair.

I gathered up my gear and proceeded to walk over and slump onto one of the hard plastic chairs under the awning shade of the combined clubhouse / change rooms. Then taking a towel, briskly tried to rid myself of the sweat on my arms, legs and face. It hadn’t been a bad Saturday afternoon all things considered, I’d won one of my two matches while Mark had lost both of his matches. Geoff, another teammate had won both his matches.

Neither Mark, Geoff or I were playing in the “mixed” doubles match, which we’d all agreed to earlier on if I lost my 2nd match. Instead Janice, who’d also won one of her two singles matches, along with our fifth and spare player Ian, would play the mixed doubles match, since our team (Mowbray) could no longer win the series against Hambone. Besides, mixed doubles was generally considered a bit of a hit and giggle affair unless both teams were tied five matches apiece. Anyway, it was only Saturday afternoon B grade tennis, it was hot and sticky and “definitely” NOT the U.S. Championships at Flushing Meadow.

I sat slumped in the shade with Mark as we watched our two teammates walk out onto the court and start a five minute warm up. As both Janice and Ian started their warm ups, Mark and I indulged our usual fantasy of looking at both Janice and her female opponent and comparing their faces and bodies, while quietly muttering about what either one would look like naked.

Admittedly both girls’ short tennis skirts clearly showed off their underwear along with their legs. Oddly enough, tennis was and still is one of the few sports where girls/women can show off their underwear and is accepted as the norm. And when I say underwear, that’s sort of a misnomer because when we first started playing tennis, (and here I have to say that my older sister Monica explained this to me when I was seven and her eight) she told me that girls wore a larger pair of bottoms over their underwear when playing, to both cover their modesty and because the bottoms also absorbed sweat. Still that didn’t stop Mark or I from discussing either girl’s legs or derrieres as well as what coloured knickers either girl might be wearing under their white bottoms.

After the match had finished (which by the way Janice and Ian won) Mark’s dad dropped me off at my house on their way home, where I went upstairs to shower and change before vegging out on computer games in my bedroom. When mum finally called out that dinner was ready, I trooped downstairs to the dining room where my sister and parents were already starting to eat.

Like a lot of families the evening meal is where everyone gets together to discuss the day’s happenings or to announce matters or even to talk about what to watch on the idiot box for the evening. Dad always wanted to know of the latest sports results for both me and my sister, as the first point of business. Neither dad nor mum ever pushed Monica or I to play sports, learn a musical instrument, take up a hobby, or make either of us get part time jobs for extra pocket money. All they ever asked of us was to be courteous to both of them and others, try to not lie, do our best at school, try not getting into fights with other people, try not to argue or fight with each other, always (try) to keep our rooms tidy and help out around the house or in the backyard when asked.

Generally we were able to follow those few small rules and although when it came to sports, neither my sister nor I were any great shakes, the fact that we at least tried usually made dad (at least) happy regardless of our results.

As for mum, hmm well, I guess she only ever wanted us to be happy within ourselves, except for when it came to tennis. Mum was your typical “tennis tragic” mother, having played competitive but non-professional tennis herself until her late twenties. She had had both Monica and I and still played afterwards. Nowadays she played once a week in a wives social tennis competition. But as I've already told you, she was never one of those domineering "sport's mums" but she "was" a bit gung-ho when her daughter and I took up tennis, and although Mon (Monica my sister) tried her best, mum quickly realised her own sporting genes hadn’t transferred to her daughter at birth and decided to transfer her enthusiasm over to my efforts.

The number of hours mum spent hitting tennis balls to either of us while offering encouragement and advice, should have at least made one of the two of us brilliant players. Alas, Mon’s reaching puberty quickly saw her attention drifting off shortly afterwards to boys, while my skill level never matched my enthusiasm. Even now at 39, mum still played a mean game of tennis herself and it was rare for me to win many matches against her.

My sister Mon still played tennis too, but let me put it this way, her tennis outfits were now selected more for fashion and style that showed her body off to it's best advantage visually, than for practical tennis playing. The team my sister played for didn’t win many matches either, but it was rare when she or one of the other two girls in the team (different competition/different gender numbers) didn’t get asked out by the opposing team’s male players afterwards!

Anyway I’m digressing from the story……….

During the meal that night, mum and dad announced that for dad’s holidays this year, the family were going to visit Disneyworld for four days before staying at a luxury resort for the remainder of his holidays. The resort offered sightseeing, swimming, go karts, horse riding, golf, shooting, mountain climbing, shopping and other great things.

Mum left the most exciting part till last, enthusiastically telling us that she had entered my sister into an amateur mother/daughter tennis competition being held at the resort, which she breathlessly told us the winners would receive $3,000 in gift vouchers for ladies clothes!

It was exciting to find out about Disneyworld (as far as I was concerned anyway) and dad’s broad smile told me that he knew we kids would like the idea, until my sister asked when we were going, with a voice not entirely laced with enthusiasm. Our summer school break was always when dad took most of his annual leave, leaving a few days remaining for something else if it came up. Sometimes dad’s holidays did cause some clashing of events that had been planned for several months beforehand. Usually though, everything was always able to be moved around, but for some reason I wasn’t so sure about this time because of the way Monica asked about when the trip was planned for.

As soon as mum told her, Mon bluntly stated that she couldn’t go for the entire trip with us, whiningly reminding mum about her friend Cathy’s seventeenth birthday party and that mum and dad had agreed to let her go away with Cathy, her family and several other girlfriends for five days to Cathy’s parent’s ranch, somewhere in Arizona. This caused both mum and dad to baulk and remind my sister about how our family always went on holidays together.

Monica cheerfully said she could come with us to Disneyworld but would then have to fly back to be in time to go away with her friends. Dad asked if she could forego going away with her friends and instead go with the family, which Monica without thinking, foolishly said wasn’t possible reminding dad that they’d all discussed this problem several months ago and that both he and mum had agreed to let her go.

Needless to say that the rest of the dinner mood was a bit strained, although my sister kept saying how great it would be to visit Disneyworld and that she was sorry that she couldn’t stay for the rest of the holiday, but that we’d all be together for most of it! Dad being dad easily relented adding (while trying to save face) that he supposed that with both of us now growing up and building friendships, he should have realised that one day the family holiday trip was going to have to end. Monica, said that she and I were now getting old enough (in her case I suppose) and that future family holiday trips might clash with other things and that she had just bought it all to a head now.

Mum was furious and although she didn’t argue anymore about the matter, made it obviously apparent about her daughter’s decision not to support the family’s yearly vacation. She started answering Monica’s ideas about what we could all do at Disneyworld with monosyllable answers or asking dad and/or I about such and such a ride they could all share, pertinently ignoring Monica by answering her with yes, no or hmm replies to any of Monica’s suggestions.

After Mon and I had cleared the table and washed up the dishes we both headed for our rooms. Mum and dad had quietly disappeared upstairs to their bedroom after the meal where I heard mum, (as I passed their room) crying loudly and dad trying to console her. I felt awful about the entire situation and went to see Mon about it. Mum almost never turned on the water works and when she did, it always necessitated some genuine remorse being shown by the culprit who had caused it.

I reminded Monica that the family always took dad’s holiday trip as a unit and that she was being a selfish bitch in wanting to join her girlfriends for a week, telling her that mum was crying her eyes out in disappointment and that she needed to tell her friend Cathy that she couldn’t go because the family holiday clashed.

Usually my sister (or I) would immediately have relented, gone in and apologised to mum (or dad) and everything would go back to normal and the house would be a happy one again. But, Mon told me I should mind my own business and that she almost 17 and had her own life and that mum needed to start realising that her daughter was no longer her little girl, end of story and told me to “eff” off.

Now my sister and I although a year apart in age, usually don’t argue seriously. Sure we do have the occasional nasty scrap, but generally within an hour, all is forgiven although sometimes it does cause a few days of silent theatrics before we’re talking to one another civilly again. But this time Mon was way out of line over her refusal to go on the family holiday and I stupidly wouldn’t let go of the argument.

My sister told me to grow up and that if I cared so much for mum, I should offer to take her place in the mother/daughter tennis competition, which she callously told me was what was upsetting mum so much since she’d obviously been so excited about it, but Monica wasn’t going to indulge her tennis fantasies anymore.

With that Mon shoved me towards her door telling me to shut up and that it would all die down by the morning before closing her door loudly in my face. With that I went back to my own room, closed the door and for one of the few times in my life didn’t say goodnight to mum and dad, thinking it was wiser to leave them be, hoping that my sister was right and that it would all blow over by the morning.

The next morning when I walked into the kitchen it was immediately apparent that “it” hadn’t blown over and was far from doing so. Mum and dad amicably asked me how I was and mum proceeded to place a hot breakfast in front of me. Both my parents swapped banter with me and with each other. In Monica’s instance though, both mum, and now dad, didn’t ask Monica anything and answered her questions with monosyllable answers which had a venomous tone to them. Sometimes dad would give Monica a sarcastic reply to her question, saying that as she was now so grown up, he supposed she didn’t have to be involved in family matters so it was none of her concern.

“Oh boy….happy family times, NOT” I was thinking after dad’s last retort. My sister knew she was on the nose so proceeded to stand up, then stupidly told dad and mum that the pair of them needed to grow up and they could go to hell, before storming out of the house. As the front door slammed behind my sister, mum got up and burst into tears before dashing off upstairs. I looked at dad and said I’d clean up and with a quiet nod of appreciation he quickly followed after mum.

After I cleared away everything I stayed downstairs and watched the idiot box. Mum and dad finally made an appearance just before noon and mum asked me if “I” still wanted to go on holidays. I went over and gave her what I felt she needed, which was a hug, before foolishly defending my sister by first condemning her behaviour then reminding mum that Monica was going to be a Senior next year and that both mum and dad should be grateful that Mon hardly ever did stupid things or take drugs either.

I told mum with a chuckle that if Mon had teamed with her in the tennis competition, they’d be out after the first round anyway, adding that mum well knew Mon’s tennis game was atrocious and that if I’d been playing with her instead of Monica, mum might have had a better chance of winning before laughing it off and being rewarded with mum smiling sadly but at least smiling.

Monica stayed away for the rest of the day but I received a phone call on my mobile from her asking if our parents were still ape shit at her. I explained what happened and told her in no uncertain terms that mum and dad weren’t entirely at fault and that she had behaved like a spoilt bitch herself. I told her that mum was starting to accept things, but that a smart person would come home and grovel profusely to both mum and dad and cop anything that they said on the chin. Monica just terminated the call.

Dinner that evening was kind of quiet without Mon being there, but she finally turned up around 8.30pm and asked to talk to mum and dad in their bedroom. About forty minutes later all three reappeared and although mum and Monica both had red eyes, there seemed to have been some sort of acceptable accommodation reached between the three of them.

The following morning at breakfast things seemed to have returned to normal (well, as normal as they could be) and the family banter was restored around the meal table. By dinner time, mum must have buried the hatchet, even discussing with Mon about booking her return flight to be with her friends.

Mum although probably disappointed, decided to now get on with planning the family holiday. She paid particular attention to my needs which necessitated measuring me for some new clothes which she allowed me to buy once I told her what I felt I needed for the trip. I suppose that some guys would think I’m a bit of a mummy’s boy, but once a year mum usually did measure everyone for size and height, mainly because relatives often needed to be told what clothing sizes Monica, me or dad wore to avoid having to give away those presents which were too small.

I thought more than “felt” that both dad and mum were looking at me a bit more closely, but put it down more to the idea that they NOW realised that both their children were growing up, had their own thoughts and opinions, ideas and even friends and were wondering when I'd turn away from the "family holiday" as well.

The trip to Disneyworld (Florida) was now less than eight days away and mum ensured that everyone’s bags were packed by the time there was only three days to go. I was certain that my sister had restored her close bond with both mum and dad after numerous reminders about her behaving herself while she was away. I was simply glad that the house karma was back to its usually friendly and happy self.

The trip to Florida by plane wasn’t that bad since Orlando had direct flights to it from a number of states, including or own (we lived in Louisiana). The biggest hassle seemed to be getting to the airport by taxi and then leaving the terminal at Orlando. Still we finally got to our hotel and were stunned at how close we were to Disneyworld. We spent an incredible four days in Disneyworld and even then knew that we never got to see everything.

My sister was on her best behaviour throughout to ensure that all the family enjoyed the trip and our final night before Monica flew back home (to collect another bag of clothes for her trip to Arizona) was memorable if only for what everyone remembered as their favourite moment about Disneyworld.

The following day we all saw Monica to the airport, before dad arranged a hire car from the airport to drive us to the resort some 150 miles away. Once we were in the car, dad said that he and mum needed to talk to me somewhere quiet and so it was decided on to pick up some of the Colonel’s finest on the way and find a quiet park where we could stop and have a quiet lunch.

It was during the lunch stop that mum and dad said they wanted to talk to me about seeing if I could do something that I might be objectionable to but would please mum enormously. I said as long as it didn’t involve hard manual labour I’d be happy to help out.

Mum seemed very hesitant or perhaps embarrassed but told me how disappointed she was that my sister couldn’t find the time to enter the mum/daughter tennis tournament, which she added she had yet to cancel. Mum seemed to umm and aww considerably until dad told her to stop stalling and ask me.

Not having the vaguest idea what either of them was talking about I steadily devoured lunch. In a rush of words mum asked me if I’d dress up as her daughter so that she and I could play in the tennis tournament! I actually thought mum was joking and laughed at her, until I saw by the look on her face as well as dads that she was actually serious about proposing I masquerade as her daughter and play.

I actually laughed again and told her if she could listen to what she was proposing, only to have her say that although I looked like any other 15 year old boy, she believed that with a change to my hairstyle and with a few other small changes including my mannerisms and behaviour pattern, she could ensure I’d never be seen as a boy by anyone at the resort we were staying at.

I ridiculed the idea entirely until dad asked me if I’d at least let mum try and prove she could make me into a passable teenage girl. She chipped in and said if when I saw the changes and I thought I looked stupid, there’d be no further mention of it and we’d just enjoy the holiday. She also said that if I agreed to the masquerade, no one and she told me “especially your sister” would ever find out. Mum said that she’d bought me my tennis outfit already and she also made sure it matched her outfit, so that we’d look like two peas in pod.

I was all for saying "no way"" when dad asked me earnestly if I’d at least try and help my mother have a bit of enjoyment, as payment for all the love and help she’d given me since I’d be born. This low shot by dad was meant to wound (and it did) as I knew that mum had certainly done more than her parental duty over the years, so I said that I’d agree to at least let mum prove to me that she could make me pass as a female in public before I’d actually consider to agreeing to anything.

I kept telling myself that I'd only agreed to at least let mum try to see how I looked as a girl because I was certain that there was no way in hell that mum could actually do it. After all, although I was only 15 and a half, I was a boy through and through. My hair was reasonably short (only just past the top of my school shirt collar), I was 5’6” and now in the middle of a growth spurt that my parents had told me would have me ending up looking much like dad and his brothers who were all around six feet tall. I even had a girlfriend of sorts and we’d kissed and she’d even let me fondle her breasts a couple of times while she’d actually stroked my penis once.

Mum was already on another plain mentally as she told me that we’d need to stop at a hair stylists in about (and she paused to look at her watch) an hour and that I needn’t worry about my friends seeing me with a girlie hair cut because once we’d finished in the tournament, I’d be going to get my hair cut to a masculine style again. My hair would be a bit short afterwards but by the end of the summer break mum assured me, no one, especially my friends would be any the wiser. Even the hair on my arms and legs would have grown back enough so that no one would notice she told me with a smile! I have to admit I did a double take when I heard her tell me THAT!!!

Dad then looked me hard in the eye and said that he’d make sure that if I wasn’t sure about how I looked when mum had finished with me, He’d make sure that I didn’t have to go through with it, which I simple told him I’d make him stick to his word. And with that we headed for the car with me for a hair appointment. I didn’t notice that neither mum nor dad had eaten any lunch.

On the way there, mum explained what she had planned to have happen to me. She’d arranged for a stylist to do my hair, nails, and body hair confidentially for me and they had given her a confirming email back agreeing to mum’s privacy conditions. Two hours later, I wished I hadn’t eaten anything for lunch!!!

During the thirty minute drive to the hair stylist, mum explained that she had packed a special bag for me for the resort and explained what would happen if I decided to agree to help her. If the truth be known, I had no intention of giving a final agreement to dressing up as a girl just so that mum could play in the mother /daughter tennis tournament. Personally there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I looked feminine in any conceivable way. I mean, I was 5’6”, not thin but certainly not fat (to my way of thinking) I felt my looks were quite masculine although I would have admitted that my face was unblemished. I didn’t have long hair, (all of us including dad were dark brunettes, although he had a tinge of grey smattering his) thin eyebrows or the like. Hell I looked like any other 15 and a half year old boy, period.

The car slowed down and stopped out the front of a small hair boutique in the main street some small town I hadn’t seen the name sign for. The shop was named “Dior Hair Styling” and at 2.30pm (on a Tuesday), the shop turned out to be almost bereft of customers. I hesitated for a moment before following mum into the store and noticed that it didn’t seem any different to the salon that mum usually used. You know the sort, four or so chairs stationed in-front of large wall mirrors, with a shelf and small drawers attached to the wall below the mirrors, a glass display case to one side filled with various types of jewellery and ear rings and a glass shelving unit holding various shampoos, hair sprays and the like for customers to buy if they wished to.

Mum had immediately walked over to talk with a lady whose name tag read Maree. They talked about heaven knows what for around five minutes before Maree came over and introduced herself while asking me to follow her behind a curtain towards the back of the shop, while mum followed closely behind.

Maree invited me to sit in a chair similar to the ones still occasionally used in men’s barber shops. Once I was seated she started doing something behind me and the chair rose up. Mum proceeded to explain the type of style she wanted to have done to my hair while explaining that her hair would also have to be done to look similar. Maree made a few suggestions to which mum eventually agreed to, but not before mum stipulated I’d need to have my hair recut into a male style in a few days regardless.

Maree looked at my arms before asking me if I had any skin allergies. She also asked if I had a pair of swimming briefs I could get changed into, which mum said she’d go get and headed back to the rental car where our luggage was. A few minutes later she reappeared handing me my speedos while Maree said her and my mother would leave so I could get changed and to call out when I had.

Two minutes later I called out I was ready and Maree bustled back behind the curtain, to tell me to make myself comfortable while asking if I wanted something to drink, which after I told her called out to her assistant to get it for me. Once I was handed the drink, Maree proceeded to tell me how she was going to cut my hair and how it would look afterwards. To ease my confused ignorance, she showed me a photo of how my hair would look after she was done. To my panicked inquiry she assured me that it would be a simple exercise to recut it into a masculine style afterwards.

The assistant came back behind the curtain and said the shop was now empty so Maree pulled the curtain back and I saw my mum sitting in a chair nearby with a cloth covering her waiting for her hair to be cut by the assistant. I was quickly draped and Maree started to cut my hair using hair pins and scissors as well as (surprisingly to me) a pair of electric hair clippers.

I didn’t say a word while Maree cut away. Mum on the other hand was making suggestions to her stylist about her own cut, while also referring back to Maree for her opinion. Mum’s usual hair style was actually short but suited her and when she got dressed up to go somewhere also made her look younger than her 39 years of age.

Maree worked quietly on my hair and as she cut and shaped, my mirror showed my appearance change infront of my eyes. Mum’s stylist finished her off before Maree was done with me and mum came and stood to one side of me, offering suggestions to which Maree either agreed or disagreed with. When she was finished styling my hair, Maree told me about doing some thinning out and I quickly found my eyebrows being reworked to a slightly thinner and more feminine look. Mum seemed to be quarterbacking Maree standing behind me and looking at my reflection while also walking around me and looking from various angles.

Finally Maree declared herself finished with the hair on my head and mum said she’d go out and bring dad in to show him how I looked. When dad walked in beside mum I noticed that mum was quietly talking to him. Mum came over and told me to stand up and stood beside me before asking my father for his opinion.

Dad’s first words were “I’ll be…..Now I’ve got a Liza with Z and a Lisa with an S. Do the two of you do a duo of Cabaret by any chance?” Mum asked if he thought I looked passable and dad simply nodded and told me that it was up to me, but I could trust him not to see me end up being humiliated in public if I didn’t look like a teenage girl and said that as far as he was concerned I looked like a teenage version of Liza Minelli and my mum looked like an older version. "Peas from the same pod" dad told me, confirming what my own eyes were telling my brain.

Mum assured him that if he thought I looked good now, come back in an hour and he wouldn’t believe his eyes she told him happily, which dad took as his cue to say he was going out to get some afternoon tea and that he’d be back later. Once dad left, Maree said that she was now going to give me some good news, telling me that I wouldn’t have to suffer through a body wax and that my mum said I was to have depilatory cream used to get rid of my unwanted body hair, which she assured me was pretty much painless.

Maree pulled the curtain closed again and asked me to take off all my clothes except for my speedos. As I did, Maree stepped outside the curtain and walked off returning a minute later with a small rectangular packet and was opening it. Inside was a tube and after fiddling around with it she told me to hold out my arms and she proceeded to squeeze the tube, out of which came a pinkish substance which she rubbed all the way up both my arms and then onto my chest and shoulders, while telling me that she would shortly clean it off and told me if it started to burn to let her know.

A few minutes later saw Maree holding a wet face cloth which she proceeded to rub up and down my arms. As she did the hairs on my arms started to disappear and were now on the facecloth in greasy balls of hair. My chest was starting to tingle and telling her this had her tell me she’d clean off my chest and back in a moment. When Maree changed to another facecloth I saw that my arms were now lacking any hair at all as Maree started to rub a clean face cloth over the front of me before turning me around and rubbing briskly over my back and shoulders. After she was done my body actually reacted to the cool air conditioning in the shop as I shivered slightly.

Maree asked me now to stand on a small step and proceeded to rub more of the ointment over the entire length of my legs as well. As she did she explained that usually a woman would only need to do this to their legs and then they’d wash the hair off in the shower adding that since the shop didn’t have a shower and it wasn’t possible to use the small wash sinks to stand in, I’d have to settle for damp wash cloths to clean off my body hair. Several more minutes of standing around in my speedos saw Maree apply another damp facecloth to my legs, briskly rubbing it up and down one leg and then the other.

When she had finished she told me that I now had to have moisturiser rubbed onto me so that my body wouldn’t start getting itchy. So I stood there with my now hairless smooth body while I felt her and her assistant rub a type of greasy lotion into my skin until my body absorbed most of it, leaving me with a light greasy coating everywhere on my body except for the area around my swimming speedos.

Mum had said nothing the entire time but did look at me closely after Maree had said my body was now done with Maree suggested to mum that I shouldn’t need any sorting around the pubic area. Mum said she didn’t think it wouldn’t be necessary either but that they’d know in about five minutes or so most likely.

Maree then turned me around and I saw myself reflected back in a full length mirror which showed the weird reflection of a feminine face with a short haircut wearing a pair of light blues speedos and having a very white and hairless skinny body. I certainly didn’t look anything like the boy known as Leon who had walked into the building over an hour ago. Maree then told mum that she had another appointment at 4pm and said that we’d need to get a move on since she didn’t want me parading around in my swimmers in front of her women customers.

Mum then told me that I needed to see what I looked like dressed and then I could make a final decision, but that she already felt I could get away with being a girl now with just a touch of makeup, before handing me a top and a skirt, telling me to put them on while she headed back outside the curtain with the two hair stylists to give me an illusion ofprivacy. As if “that” mattered since I’d been standing in front of the three of them in just my swimsuit for about twenty to thirty minutes.

I quickly put the top on over me and it felt quite different to how my shirts usually felt. The skirt I discovered actually seemed to have some type of fabric like attached underwear as I needed to put one leg after the other into openings pretty much like putting on a pair of shorts, before pulling it up until it was covering my groin region. I looked at the mirror and saw that the bottoms I’d pulled up now looked like a skirt, but also felt like I was wearing baggy shorts (in a way). I called out I was dressed and the curtain was tugged aside as mum, Maree and her assistant came back to inspect me.

Maree looked closely at me with a hint of a smile on her face before commenting that I’d only need some discreet fiddling and little bit of padding and a touch of makeup to fool anyone. Mum and the other assistant enthusiastically agreed as mum said I should sit down and let Maree finish while she went and found my father to get his opinion, now.

As I sat down Maree quickly got started on using items which were on a trolley she had wheeled in with her. I felt her gently rub some type of lotion into my face and then having been told to close my eyes and keep them shut, felt something harder press around them before being told to purse my lips, which took several tries before I had done it to Maree’s satisfaction. I felt something pressing down gently onto and over my lips and knew that she had to be putting lipstick onto my mouth.

After being told “all done” I was told to stand up, turn around and open my eyes. There looking back at me was a girl with short dark coloured hair wearing a pale yellow top and a dark yellow skirt, with a look of both shock and surprise. “What do you think of the new Lee(?) Leon” Maree asked? I said nothing as she suddenly decided on something and moved away. “Wait a minute Hon, I forgot something” and dashed over to the glass display case coming back holding a few items in her hands. After being told to stand still I felt something being attached to my ears and then she put a small thin necklace around my neck while fastening it behind me.

“There now, you’re perfect” she said and along with her assistant looked at my mirrored reflection with a beaming smile on both their faces. My fingers gravitated up to my ears as I thought horrified that she’d pierced my ears which scared the living daylights out of me. As if reading my mind Maree assured me they were only clip on earrings and came over and took one off to show me before putting it back on.

Meanwhile my mind was racing at the speed of light, wondering what friends would say if they could see me now. I didn’t look anything like Leon. In fact the reflection I was looking at showed a girl with glossy lipstick, different looking eyes, short dark hair, round yellow earrings, with a still shocked look on her face.

Maree asked me what did I think of my appearance and I told her I wasn’t sure what to say about it. I stuttered and said I looked different and on saying that she asked me if I thought I looked like a teenaged girl? I had to admit that I did, before she said “good I’ve succeeded” and that I wouldn’t need much done to look like a girl each morning, but smiled while telling me that with one good stying cut I’d look like a boy again straight away. I said “I suppose so” but added that I’d be spotted a mile away by other females, to be loudly poo pooed by both her and her assistant, who adamantly told me that with a bit a bit of coaching of my mannerisms, no one would be any the wiser. They also suggested that I talk gently and quietly which I quickly found out made my voice sound less masculine to my hearing than previously. Maree and her assistant smiled as I practiced talking sotto voice to myself with her assistant telling me I was getting the hang of it.

A few minutes later dad walked in with mum who had changed her clothes somewhere and was now wearing clothing similar to mine and the same colour. The look of stunned shock on my father’s face would sometime else have been priceless. Mum was looking at me smiling and I heard her tell dad that I’d make a perfect daughter partner for tennis before coming over and hugging me.

“You look perfect she softly whispered into my ear” before aloud asking me what I thought of myself and did I look like her daughter. Before I could answer she asked dad the same thing and he said I could fool anyone and that he was thankful that my sister couldn’t see me right now for fear of there being a fight over who looked the better of the two.

Mum asked me the question I think I’d feared the most when she asked me if I felt I looked like a teenage girl and would I be willing to enter the tennis tournament with her. I looked around at four expectant faces, convinced I didn’t really want to do it. When I turned back to look at dad I saw him imperceptibly nod his head slightly to me before turning to look at mum. It was then I knew that like it or not, I couldn’t let me mum down so I told all of them I’d give it a try, and saw dad smile and subtly nod his approval of my decision.

Loud whoops of excitement came not only from mum but from Maree and her assistant and words of encouragement were only cut short by the arrival of the four o’clock appointment. Maree left us to tend to her while instructing her assistant (who I finally found out was called Louise) to give both my mother and I manicures and varnished nails.

Mum told dad how she’d completely forgotten about jewellery for me and so before we left, purchased several more pairs of clip on earrings a few arm bracelets and another necklace. Louise went and placed the clothing I’d worn in into store label plastic bags, while mum said aloud for the woman now getting her hair done that I’d better not wear shoes until my toes had dried before saying it was time to leave.

Mum handed her credit card over and told Louise to add $40 as a tip while thanking her and then Maree for the excellent service. Mum made sure I stayed with her so as to pass on my thanks as well before we both headed for the car, with mum joining me in the back seat, before dad pulled out into the traffic and we headed for the resort, still about an hour away.

Mum’s reason for sitting beside me was to start giving me a hurried indoctrination into behaving like a teenaged girl. It must have also been the time she (and dad?) decided to tell me about some of the hurdles I hadn’t even considered until mum now brought them up.

Firstly mum handed me a pair of feminine coloured trainers and a pair of ankle socks to put on my feet assuring me my nails were well and truly dry. Once I’d done that she began explaining that to ensure I didn’t get found out, I’d have to appear 24/7 as a teenage girl, at least until we were headed back to the airport to fly home! I started saying how I thought I only had to dress up when tennis matches had to be played, and mum reminded me about the possibilities of a resort guest or member of staff seeing a boy step out of my room, when it was only supposed to be occupied by a girl.

Mum told me that they’d cancel my reservation and substitute a girl named Lee (so that’s why mum called me that in the salon I thought) for my sister Monica. Mum told me she was sure I’d have enough girl clothes and underwear to wear because she bought enough clothes for me to dress for 7 or 8 days as well as packing a few of my sister things as well. Mum said I’d also need to wear a few things to make me look even more realistic, before smiling broadly and adding that that included some items to ensure that nothing popped out inadvertently, which had dad guffaw loudly from the front.

Mum also explained that most of the time I’d be wearing tops and shorts or skorts, (which she explained I was presently wearing) but said that our matching tennis outfits were tops and skirts with matching bottoms for under the skirts. Mum then dropped a bombshell I wasn’t expecting, saying that while dad was checking us in, we’d wait for him at our assigned cabin/room before we’d all change and head down to dinner and inquire at reception as to when the tournament actually started.

I complained to mum that I thought it might be smarter to have me stay hidden in my room and I’d eat my meals there, to hear dad in the front seat quickly and firmly nix the idea straight away, before adding that the sooner I got used to being a girl in public the easier it would be for me during the rest of our stay there.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, mum started explaining to me some of the dos and don’ts I’d need to practice if I was going to try and pass as a teenaged girl until we reached the resort, where dad drove mum and I straight to our cabin and dropped us off before driving back round to reception, checking in and obtaining the unit key.

Ten minutes later all three of us were comfortably ensconced in a reasonably sized two story unit which had two bedrooms upstairs and another one downstairs. The larger one upstairs had a small private bathroom which dad told me was for him and mum and the other one without the private bathroom would be mine, or I could sleep downstairs. I was to use the other small bathroom downstairs to shower or wash. The downstairs area also included a kitchen, a cramped meals area and a lounge/TV room, with a compact laundry leading outside to a fenced in space with a pull out clothes line. The unit also had very modern appliances and mum declared that the small kitchen had a workable stove/oven for cooking breakfasts and what not.

After mum brewed a restorative coffee for her and dad, she said it was time for her to help me get unpacked and settled in for the holiday and with that, she took my hand and lead me into my downstairs bedroom (and closing the door) helped me unpack my (until very recently unknown) actual suitcase, telling me that the other case with my male clothes wouldn’t need to be touched until we were on our way back to the airport and home and so ended up under the bed.

As she lifted the case onto the bed and opened it, it was full (from edge to edge) of girl’s clothing along with a lot of coat hangers. Mum took out each item and laid them out before telling me they would be hung up in sets for me to wear. Mum then took a hanger and showed me how I would be expected to hang up the clothes of an evening unless they needed to be washed in which case they’d be put into a plastic bag on a steel ring attached to the side of the wardrobe apparently for that purpose.

Each hanger in the case had two clips on the bottom of them for fastening a pair of shorts/skorts or skirts and mum quickly decided which blouse or top went with each bottom before handing me the hanger to put the clothes on and place them in the wardrobe saying I should put the empty case under the bed along with the other one. Mum then went outside and came back two minutes later with a smaller case which she placed on the bed and opened for me to spy the contents, which upon looking made me do another visible double take as she took out the contents.

“These will be your underwear for the rest of the trip and I’d better not see any of the dirty ones lying tossed around on the floor” mum told with both a giggle along with a word of warning tone of voice before handing me bras(?) which she told me to put in the middle drawer. Then what I counted were ten pairs of panties(?) which I was instructed were to go in the top drawer and finally several unopened pairs of pantyhose and a couple of very short slips which I was told were for the bottom drawer.

Mum also handed me several (I suppose I’d describe them as solidly made) bras, which she told me I’d be expected to wear when playing tennis. The very bottom of the suitcase held several pairs of shoes, one of which I was instructed were my tennis shoes, along with two other pairs of shoes (one black coloured and the other white) with a wedge on the heel, for wearing in the resort’s restaurant or club area each evening, which mum happily told me she’d tell me which ones to wear with whatever outfit I was to wear as she looked the dumbfounded incomprehension on my face.

Mum asked me to sit down, and sitting down on the bed beside me told me how wonderful a son I was to dress up and be a girl just so I could make her happy then gave me a hug of affection. As she pulled away I saw her eyes seemed watery although it didn’t appear to hinder her for what came next as she told me that from now on no teenage daughter of hers was going to be walking around braless in public under any circumstances, before telling me it was time for me to blossom, then telling me to strip back down to my swimmers and lie on my back.

Five embarrassing minutes later I was told to sit up on the side of the bed as mum helped me into a bra before fastening it behind for me. Mum was positively laughing at the look on my face as she inquired if I’d been expecting that to happen. I now felt the weight of two silicon breast inserts glued to my chest cradled by the bra. “The B cups suit your body Lee” mum happily told me, before telling me it was time to lose the speedos.

I stood up and after stopping for a moment to let my mind catch up with the new weight of my top half said I’d put on my own underwear, to have mum say that she’d changed my nappies, bathed me till I could do it for myself and seen me countless times semi naked and worse while growing up, so I was to shut up and strip. Mum then told me we needed to do one more thing if my good friend “Pete” wasn’t going to make an unexpected and dramatic appearance for the rest of our stay here.

I turned my back to mum and slowly pulled my swimmers down and off into a small heap, before turning back round with my hands covering my privates. Mum looked at me grinning broadly “Honey, I’ve seen you naked before and I’ll probably see you naked again before I die so there’s no need to feel embarrassed. I can see that you aren’t Vlad the Impaler quite yet sweetheart, but by the time you’re eighteen you’ll be as big as your dad and that’ll be plenty for most girls” mum informed me with a friendly smile and a wink.

She then took our of her short's pocket several small items and taking one told me to step into it and pull it up as far as I could so she could see how I looked down there. Once I had, mum looked at my groin area critically before telling me not to flinch before I felt her hands lightly moving over the outside of the fabric and gently fondling my testicles and penis around till she stood back and said I was perfect now.

I felt quite constricted down below because of the tight underwear but didn’t see any sort of bulge and looked at mum in shock, to have her tell me it was a ballet gaff before handing me a pair of the panties from out of my top drawer which I quickly put on to try and cover up my modesty. Mum then led me over to the mirror and told me “see, almost perfectly smooth, no damage and no tell-tale Pete looking around for anyone to see, but we need to make one more adjustment to have you showing a totally smooth front down there and my face must have turned crimson as mum pulled done my underwear just enough to put a ladies napkin in the gusset and pulling them back up.

“Now Lee, let’s get all of you dressed and then dad, you and I will go exploring to see what the resort has to offer” mum said before going over to my wardrobe and taking out a hanger which had a pair of white shorts and a blouse with a faint pattern on it. Mum suggested I put on the top first and that in the future I was to put my gaff on first and then a pair of knickers with a panty pad in the gusset, THEN a bra, in that order, before I could put on the rest of my clothes then I could put my socks and shoes on last. Surprisingly although mum watched me get dressed each morning, she never again had to mention the order of clothing, as I had it drilled into my brain from this second experience of getting dressed as a girl.

The blouse I wore loose over my shorts (never tuck your top into your clothing Lee, never, mum advised) was quite comfortable and my faux breasts actually pushed the top out in front of me just like a real girl’s would. But the shorts! It felt as though I was almost cut in two between my legs and even mum felt that the cut was “almost” too short. The last item of my wardrobe was a small neckerchief, which mum was also wearing, telling me that “that” was our fashion statement on and off the court. When I came out of the bedroom with mum and walked into the TV area I think that dad almost had a stroke as he loudly told mum that I looked almost indecent in the shorts I had on. Mum simply told him to come explore with her and Lee and they’d gauge from the looks of the other guests if I needed to I’d get changed into something more sedate.

Just before we all stepped outside, mum told me I could take off the necklace as the neckerchief covered it and I had to lose the lipstick shade, telling me that the colour didn’t really suit my clothes colour, before wiping my lips for me then applying some of her own shade. As she did, dad asked if I was wearing a bra as he said I now had breasts. Mum told him that most fifteen year old girls wore bras because most fifteen year old girls had breasts, before gently pushing me outside the front door into the wilds of the resort in late daylight.

As we began walking, I had total fear of being seen out in public. Mum and dad walked beside me on the side of the resort’s street roads, as almost all of the other guests appeared to be doing so too. The first fifty yards out on the streets heard mum sotto voiced giving me one instruction after another about my mannerisms. “Stand up straight, don’t swing your arms so much, smaller steps, try swaying your hips slightly” and on it went until mum finally said “that’s it Lee, now you’re getting into it. Now try talking to yourself quietly and softly and practice your lilt” and while I did I began to start relaxing just a tad.

We saw the resorts swimming pool which was well attended and walked over to find ten tennis courts of which several were in use including two with what appeared to be mothers and daughters playing one another. We also saw signs pointing to a golf course, which interested dad and had him saying that he must have a game or two while we were staying here.

I was starting to relax more having passed several families walking in the opposite direction and both sides saying hello, until mum said we’d better call into reception and find out about the tournament and I blanched at the prospect, seeing that several people were lined up at the reception counter inside the main building. Mum didn’t however, and with dad beside her, I followed them and queued behind several people still checking in. Mum and dad chatted inconsequentially between themselves as the guests were finally led off to their accommodation, before mum asked one of the people behind the counter about the tournament.

“My daughter and I would like to know how we sign up for the mother/daughter tennis tournament” to have one of the other staff behind the reception counter called for, who came over and discussed it with the three of us. We found out that with our finally signing in (which they had appreciated that they had been told when mum had booked the stay several weeks ago) that they now had the expected 32 teams for the competition and that the tournament should start sometime tomorrow after the staff had organised the draw and court times for each day. The resort had planned for the tournament to be held over four days with the finals on the Saturday afternoon and the winner’s trophy presentation on the Saturday evening at a competitors dinner and dance held in the resort’s conference hall.

Mum asked a lot of questions and several other groups had silently appeared without me noticing who must have had the same idea that we had and were now also gathered around listening and asking questions too. Mum used this to introduce our family to the others as they did in return and I did my best to try and blend in as seamlessly as possible.

When we had finished, mum had somehow or another organised that we’d join up with one family or another at eight o’clock in the restaurant and another at breakfast, while mum instructed dad to try and book a court for early tomorrow for some practice, which saw another mother ask if her and her daughter (who showed what she thought of the entire matter by making a facial expression behind her mother of someone being hung) could share with us saying that they weren’t very good and needed all the practice they could get.

As everyone introduced themselves around I tried to give my best impressions of a limp fish handshake to the other girls and parents as well as shyly saying hello as softly as I’d practiced it, while getting the same in return. Judging by the expressions of three of the other girls, they seemed to be about as enthusiastic about the tournament as I was, which in the case of the family we ate with a bit later on turned out to be entirely correct.

With everyone saying their farewells we parted in different directions and promises to catch up at various times. Dad had used the informal gathering to discover that several of the others played golf and had arrange for him and two of the other dads to play golf over the next few days and was quite pleased with himself as we walked back to our unit to get ready to come back for dinner. Mum was all agog about meeting some of our “opponents” who she gave her opinion about the skill of to both dad and I. In the unit mum and dad got showered and changed while mum said I might do better to wear the skorts I’d worn earlier that afternoon to dinner and that she’d touch up my face before we left for the restaurant.

When we returned to the restaurant for dinner, the family mum had organised to eat with (The Smyth's) had their daughter Jane seated next to me and despite the nervousness of each of us, managed to both eat our meals, manage a stilted but getting easier conversation until by the time both families separated we were sort of reasonably BFF’s with promises to try out the horse riding along with some of the resorts other activities.

I also endured my first “group” trip to a ladies toilet and there suffered my first “total” humiliation as mum declined my going swimming with Jane and her sister informing not only me but Jane and other females in the toilet that I had started my period yesterday, but could join them at the pool to sunbathe and talk! Oh great…..my first day in girl’s clothes and I have to be on my period!
………….... Why am I thinking THAT for goodness sakes!

When we got back to the unit, I decided I was too tired to bother with the TV and both mum and I discovered that for all her planning, even mum made mistakes. That night and for the rest of my stay I got to sleep in my 49er’s jersey, as mum hadn’t bought me any female sleepwear and I didn’t want to and steadfastly refused to wear one of her nighties, which my dad agreed with and said it was fair not to under the circumstances.

When I woke up earlier the next morning I showered and changed into underwear, while mum had picked out my clothes for the day which had also required me changing into a sports bra for our morning practice session. My top was a polo shirt and I was wearing the same skort as yesterday for our practice hit out while mum was wearing a top and shorts.

When we visited reception before heading into the restaurant, we saw the tournament draw and I discovered that mum had named our “team” The Cherrybums and that we were scheduled to play our first (and probably only) game at 3pm. Jane (Smyth) was also playing at 3pm on another court and at breakfast The Weekes told us they were playing at noon and like the rest of us had no idea as about their opponent’s skill level.

We promised to try and watch at least part of their match before heading off with the Smyth’s for our practice hit up. Dad wanted to come with us but Jane’s dad Geoff said he’d prefer to play pool and asked dad if he wanted to join him, which mum quickly agreed was a good idea and said that Geoff and dad should go off and enjoy themselves.

Our practice hit out proved at least two things. The first was that mum hadn’t lost her touch as a tennis player, although we’d both need to work out how to play as a cohesive unit in the doubles, while the second thing was that Jane and her mum would be lucky to win their first match based on the efforts that mum and I were seeing.

After a quick warm up, mum suggested that we hold the practice along the lines of the tournament, which meant both the two singles and the doubles games were one set apiece and the first ones to win six games in each was the winner. As it was, the Smyth women didn’t take long to concede their singles matches with neither match lasting longer than four games (in which neither won a game) but the doubles although again lopsided at least was good for a laugh and saw us winning it 6-1 before everyone agreed to call it quits.

Some of the other courts were also doing practice hit outs and generally showed either a complete lack of skill or in two instances, women who were deadly serious, before our two groups headed off to relax agreeing that we’d get together after our respective games this evening in the restaurant, whereupon mum and I went back to our unit and showered off the sweat and decided to veg out, which was how dad found us when he finally came back, till we decided to get changed for our 3pm match.

Mum finally said it was time to get ready and went upstairs to change telling me she’d call me up to get changed into my outfit in ten minutes and to bring a sports bra and pair of panties as well as a gaff with me. Dad who was sitting next to me watching TV gave a chuckle and said that he’d make sure I got looked after when we got back home, before smiling to me then got up off the lounge to race upstairs. A few moments afterwards I heard mum squeal loudly and then her voice telling dad that he’d better delete the photo or lose something precious when he was sleeping tonight. Not surprisingly the ten minute wait turned out to be more like twenty or twenty five minutes before I heard mum call down and tell me to come upstairs.

I passed dad as he was leaving their bedroom and he winked at me knowingly. As I stepped into my parent’s bedroom, there was mum standing tall and telling me it’s time to get ready Lee, STRIP. I’d broken our agreement by relaxing in my 49er’s top but as I took it off I think that mum didn’t say anything because I was wearing bra and knickers under it (or perhaps she didn’t say anything because I might have guessed what dad and her had been doing for so long). Her top was white with a screen print of several cherry trees on the front and turning round displayed the words “Cherrybums Are the Pits” printed on the back in red letters. Her tennis skirt was white while she wore red coloured anklet socks and her tennis shoes.

“Pretty snazzy tops don’t you think. But if anyone’s watching our game, when either of us serves we should get a few stares and chuckles because today honey we’re going to go out dressed and play in 70’s style tennis outfits and to hell with what people think.” She then smiled at me before doing something I’d never thought my mum would ever do in front of me, as she turned around and leant slightly forwards showing that her underwear runners were bright red satin and she giggled at the shocked look on my face

Mum at least let me get into my gaff by myself but made sure I was comfortable before I put on a thin pair of patterned panties having learnt from this morning’s practice about bulkiness. She handed me my pair of satin bottoms and I pulled them up……..while doing my best to make them reach my shoulder blades! Then came the top which I found wasn’t too tight but seemed to emphasise my bust a bit. I then placed the white (partly floppy) skirt that she handed me around my waist and pulled up the skirt’s zip and fastening the clasp before I managed to pull it down far enough to I hoped, allow me to walk over to the courts without flashing my red underwear. After I’d put on the socks and shoes, Mum made me lean slightly forward in front of the large mirror in their room, before telling me to relax and that I wasn’t indecent and that now “I’d” get a taste of how it felt for women to play tennis in short skirts in front of everyone, reminding me that the professional women players played in-front of national television cameras!

She then took me into their bathroom and touched up my face and lipstick. Standing beside me the mirror showed an older and younger woman trying to look something like Liza Minelli clones.

Mum smiled, saying it was time now to go play our hearts out and handed me a light windcheater to put on over my top while she did the same. As we walked downstairs, dad stood at the bottom taking a photo of us descending the stairs and before we stepped out of the unit we both double checked that we had everything in our playing bags, while mum went and got a pair of my red clip on earrings for me to wear.

The walk over to the courts wasn’t leisurely for me in any way. At the back of my mind was the fear that someone would recognise me as a boy, while mum did her best to calm my nerves by telling me about some of the things that happened to her when she was playing competition tennis, much to dad’s humorous delight. Out of the possible 16 games in the first round, half had been scheduled for a noon start time so perhaps all three of us were surprised to see so many people hanging around the nets and we simply assumed that most of them weren’t competitors and were simply hanging around to see what the standard of the tennis was like.

Our game was on court 8 and as we made our way there mum bought it to my attention that Sue Weekes and her mother were waving to us from the seating beside our court. On several of the courts, teams were trying to do last minutes practice. While at court 1 the speakers were introducing the two teams paying on that court. We took the opportunity to stop and ask Sue how her and her mother went, to hear them tell us with a smile that their opponents were a very good team and had beaten them 6 - zip in all three sets, before laughing it off, saying it had still been a fun thing to do during the stay and they’d be back next year.

They said they had stayed around to cheer for us against our opponents because Ivy (Sue’s mum) said that we’d let them win a few games at the practice this morning! They remarked on our matching windcheaters and mum told them to wait and see the rest of our outfit and see how women used to look when they played in the 70’s.

As we entered the court area, several spectators gave us a round of applause with several remarking how much we looked like a mother and team with matching hairstyles and outfits with one wag loudly asking if we knew the words to Cabaret! The resort’s PA system was being used to allow the players on the various courts to be introduced to the smattering of spectators at each court. Mum happily told me not to take my windcheater off until they announced our team name and see if the applause became any louder.

We took the time to size up our opponents who were doing last minute practice and mum simply said that we’d beat them easily, already pointing out to me some of their weaknesses to me. When the announcer for the game on court 6 started his introduction of that court’s teams, our opponents stopped practicing and came over to say hello and wish us all the best. They happily told us their ages and I found out that my opponent Denice and I were of a similar age while she and her family actually lived in Florida. Both of them were surprised that we had come here from Louisiana, asking if we had come specifically to play in the tournament, before mum told them that when she’d been making the booking for the family’s annual holiday she’d found out how the resort was holding this competition so she entered us into it, adding that she hadn’t played serious tennis since she was 26, which had Denice’s mother, Jennifer, relate a similar time span since she’d even actually played a game and that her daughter (Denice) had only recently taken it up as a school sport and dragged her into it.

As the announcer was introducing the 2nd of the other teams on the court next to ours, a lady wearing a blazer with the resort’s name on it came over and asked who wanted to be introduced to the crowd(?) first, and did they want the announcer to say anything special or interesting about them, which had Jennifer and Denice saying not really as they walked off to get ready. The resort’s lady turned to mum and she said they could introduce Denise and her mother first, but when they mentioned our names could they end up by saying our team name “the Cherrybums”, which with a laugh mum was told “certainly”. The woman told us she liked how we had matching hair styles and clothing, to be told by mum wait until you see the rest of our outfits!

Dad had seated himself bedside the Weekes and was talking to the father Dennis as the court announcer introduced court 8. The games on some of the other courts had just started by the sound of the occasional scattered applause I could hear. After Denice and Jennifer and where they lived had been announced to the crowd, the announcer told the 7 or 8 spectators our details and when he said may I introduce to you Meg and Lee, The Cherrybums……. Even some of the people watching games from the courts nearby gave out a loud laugh while our 7 or 8 spectators laughed and applauded loudly. But when we took off the windcheaters and people saw our tops, I actually heard a few read out our wording and give a short cheer.

As we went out to do our 5 minute warmup, as soon as we started to practice our serves, the riding up of our short skirts was showing off our red satin knickers which suddenly must have had our spectators along with those from the courts next to us realising why we were known as the Cherrybums. We actually started getting some wolf whistles while our bemused opponents Denice and Jennifer realised we might be a bit too serious for their level of play.

As per the tournament’s rules, the 1st singles game was between the two mothers and the 2nd between the daughters, while the third was a doubles match. From the first serve, mum was determined not to show any mercy to Jennifer. As word went around the other courts about our attire, we ended up with about 30 people watching us including some of the players who had won at the noon start time games, probably to see who they might be playing tomorrow.

Mum’s game quickly blew out to her leading 4 Zip when mum decided as a gesture of sportsmanship to allow Jennifer to win a game or two on Jennifer’s own service, which everyone who realised the gesture applauded, before mum closed out the match 6 – 2.

When mum had been serving or even volleying there’d often been a few loud raucous wolf whistles which a smiling mum was lapping up by smiling broadly. Dad was laughing as well and as several people learnt who he was, a small gathering of men (and a few women) were seated next to or in the tier just above him as well as standing nearby and were passing on good natured comments and complimenting him on his wife’s good figure as well as her tennis playing ability.

With mum being loudly cheered and applauded off the court, Denice and I went out to start our warmup and like mum, as soon as I started my practice serving even “I” was getting wolf whistles, as well as a few girls calling out raucous and humorous remarks about my underwear or my butt! I was already so nervous of being found and went over to mum before we started the actual match and told her how I felt. Mum laughingly told me not to worry about the whistles and to actually feel flattered that I was able to fool so many people into wanting to look at my derriere!!

Thankfully for me Denice’s skill standard of tennis was even lower than my own modest skills and I soon found myself out infront 3 Zip. At the change of ends mum suggested that I consider letting Denice win a few games too, but not to make it not look like I was throwing away games. Denice must have had ESP because the next game went to her without me really trying hard to lose. We ended up winning our own service games until the umpire called out “6 games to 3, set to Miss Anderson of The Cherrybums” and like mum I was loudly applauded of the court after shaking hands with Denice, who to my surprise was actually pleased with her efforts, telling me as we walked off court that she’d won more games than her mum had!

Several of the guests around dad actually started a chant “Cherrybums” and clapped quickly three times during the doubles warm up and even dad was joining in the chant. Denice and her mum knowing that they weren’t going any further in the tournament were also laughing and joking with us over the reaction of a few diehard spectators which seem to include several from the surrounding courts, although mum quietly told me that the players on the other courts must be getting cheesed off about it.

With the doubles no longer needed to decide the winner and therefore being a “dead rubber”, mum told me that we should have some fun with her saying she was going to try some old trick shots she used to be able to be able to do and that wherever possible we should return their volleys with sky high lobs and see what eventuated. To their credit Jennifer and Denice soon realised what we were trying to do and the match turned farcical with some of the winning shots played.

The four of us were both laughing, cheering or encouraging each other or our opponents when either of us played an occasionally exceptional winning shot and with the number of deep lobs played, it was a cornucopia of mishit winners and a few stunning passing shots that saw even the crowd laughing and applauding along with us. Against all odds the set ended up going to us 6 – 5 and the umpire’s announcement “Set Cherrybums 6 games to 5, Cherrybums win the match three sets to nil” had all four laughing as we rushed up to the net to shake hands with each other. The crowd which probably now numbered about 40 to 50 cheered both teams off the court as “The Cherrybums” chant started up again. There were only three games still being played when we walked off and mum quietly said to me that they were probably glad we were finished.

Dad came over and kissed mum before hugging me and loudly praising our efforts as did a number of the spectators too. After saying we’d catch up in the restaurant tonight with our opponents and their family, dad led us back to our unit so we could shower off.

Inside the unit mum’s enthusiasm didn’t stop she was so ecstatic at our result saying that she hadn’t had so much fun in years before asking aloud who we’d be playing tomorrow, adding that if we won that match we were in the semi-finals. Dad said we’d find out when we went to the restaurant tonight, adding that he, Geoff and someone called Larry had arranged to play eighteen holes of golf tomorrow and he hoped that our game time didn’t clash.

Mum and dad went upstairs to shower and dress for dinner, while I stayed downstairs and showered while remembering mum’s warning to put my tennis outfit in the laundry so she could wash and hang out to dry during the night for tomorrow’s match. Mum had said that we’d have a little celebration tonight and that I should wait for her to help me get dressed after I showered. She might have been over the moon with today, but I was simply glad that I’d been able to get through the game without anyone noticing anything, although if I had to admit to myself, I probably looked quite creditable as a teenaged girl from ten feet or so away, but still seemed amazed that someone standing up close to me didn’t seem to be able to tell who I was.

I was lying on my bed drying off and daydreaming when a knock on my door and mum’s voice asking if I was decent or not snapped my mind back to the immediate now. Mum came into the room dressed in something really nice for dinner and said that “Lee” (couldn’t she just call me Leon like she normally did) would need to look nice for dinner and proceeded to the wardrobe and flipped through the various hangers inside. She eventually found what she wanted and pulled it out before placing it on the bed telling me that I’d look nice in this tonight.

After the usual struggle of trying to maintain my dignity and get dressed in front of my mother, she took a few minutes applying what she called a light cover to my face and asked me what I thought. When I looked apprehensively at the mirror, a young but very mature looking Miss Minelli clone (and by god I still hated that joker at the game this afternoon who had shouted out if we knew the words to Cabaret) was staring back at me. Mum casually let me know not to get any food on the top as it was one of my sister’s, which mum told me she had quietly “borrowed” for me before my sister started packing her suitcases, adding that she hoped Monica wouldn’t miss it when she was packing.

On the walk to the resort’s main building, dad was saying how proud he felt escorting two lovely ladies to dinner, which had mum gaily thanking him and me looking at him with daggers, which quickly had him telling me It was just a slip of the tongue Leon, then mum reminding him that he needed to call me Lee at the resort in case some guest or staff member accidently overheard him. We stopped at reception and saw that the large white board with the tournament draw had been updated and the names of the families playing one another tomorrow filled in along with today’s match results.

There was also a number of photos from the various games and my mind dreaded it when mum started looking at the photos and excitedly told dad “look David there’s a few of Lee and me playing”, one of which showed mum stretching to one side to hit a return stroke while I was close to the net crouched forward in anticipation in case I had to return a volley from up at the net. Unfortunately for the both of us (me in particular I thought) our red satin undies were somewhat visible, especially mum’s pair. Even dad remarked on how nice his wife’s bottom looked before hugging her and giving her a kiss. Not surprisingly I knew that mum was loving dad’s attention especially since they were out in public but told him he’d need to behave himself until they got back to the unit!!!!!

“I know you mightn’t want to hear this either Leooo..LEE” dad quickly corrected himself, “but you honestly DO look quite a saucy little vixen in the photo” he said with a grin and I genuinely wanted to toss my cookies after he said it!

“See Lee, even your father says you look good” mum happily told me, before reminding me again about how clever she had been to pick our matching mother daughter tennis outfits. I’d seen who our opponents were for tomorrow’s game (Deb and Sue Taylor) and quickly tried to find a photo of them as mum remarked that our opponents tomorrow won their match 2-1 and said that she couldn’t see a photo of them on the board. Mum must have wanted to know about our opponents before it even came to my mind to do so.

Standing in the restaurant’s waiting area, the Maître’D told us “Congrats on your win today Cherrybums, this way to your table” before leading us to a vacant table where we recognised the Weekes and Smyth’s seated at the tables on either side of us. I also saw our opponents from today Denice and Jennifer Rogers with what must have been the rest of her family seated next to the Weekes and apparently already good friends.

Mum asked the Maître’D if the four tables could be placed together and was disappointed to hear that unfortunately that it couldn’t be done, then he relented enough to say that after the meals had been served, he’d see to it before walking away. Mum and I said our hellos and told the Rogers that we’d join the tables together after we’d all eaten, which they happily agreed to.

While we were looking at the menus, several mothers and daughters came over to offer us their congratulations, with all of them saying how great we looked in our Cherrybum's outfits. Mum and I quickly learned who had won and lost among them. One of the losing mothers said that our opponents were sitting near the toilets saying that they were wearing matching blue dresses and mum quickly spotted them, before asking what there form was, to be told that they’d beaten the Marks (Rosanne and Marie) 2-1 in sets but with both the singles games going 6-5 and that we’d probably be able to beat them tomorrow.

Although both Monica and I weren’t allowed to drink alcohol at home (or anywhere else for that matter) dad decided this evening that I’d be allowed to have a glass of champagne and orange juice, (which the resort supplied free to each winning team) and I found that I actually liked it when I sipped it, but was refused another one on mum’s orders. Mum however didn’t skimp on drinking glasses of champagne and on seeing my facial expression with each glass while happily advising me that when I was 18 I’d be able to drink as much as I could afford, and cheekily poked her tongue out at me. The Weekes and the Smyth’s adults laughed loudly while both mothers told mum that she was exactly right in what she’d said.

Once we had finished eating, mum asked the waiter who had looked after our tables about moving the four tables together and after getting the approval of the maitre’d and with the help of four fathers as muscle, the four tables were now 1 long table which after several diners left ended up being a square mad of the four tables. Oddly enough it also seemed to be that the four fathers were in one area all to themselves, with the mothers and daughters in another.

This gave mum and I the chance to talk to not only Jennifer and Denice, but also Susan Weekes and her mother Ivy as well as Jane and her mother, both of who also lost their matches today. Jane and her mother had actually seen our opponents for tomorrow play and gave us a few ideas to think about. Poor old Susan and Ivy had been the pair who had played against one of the three “gun” mother and daughter pairings and said that their whitewash defeat had probably been flattering for them.

The mothers and daughter were more interested in telling us about the minor stir we had caused with our outfits since most of the other players simply wore tops and shorts or short one piece dresses. If we’d come earlier we would have seen how their tennis shop had mothers and daughters buying matching tops, especially ones with screen printed images on them and that even some of the teams who had lost were doing it as well! Ivy Weekes said that we wouldn’t be the only ones in matching outfits tomorrow and that resort’s tennis shop should be paying us a commission on the sales, which we were led to believe were quite considerable.

Mum just laughed and asked if any of the other teams would have a cheer section like we had had today, to be told that several of the teams that lost seemed to be complaining about it to anyone who would listen and had also unwittingly told The Weekes, The Rodgers and The Smyth’s. Denice and Jennifer laughed while telling one team that “they” were the team that had just been beaten by “The Cherrybums” and thought we were great fun when the crowd started chanting out their name and they just wished they could look as good in the same type of outfits if they’d been brave enough to wear them.

While we all talked about today, we were interrupted several times by guests offering us best wishes for tomorrow game with one gentleman saying that he and his son were coming to the game tomorrow to see for themselves if the stories about our outfits was true and his son nodded that it was true they were coming.

At just after ten o’clock dad suggested we should get home so mum and I could keep our strength up and mum who had had two or three champagnes too many said more loudly then she thought that he only wanted to get home because he thought he was on a promise and several patrons called out lewd remarks and best wishes to dad who along with me was actually cringing a bit in embarrassment. Since our game tomorrow was scheduled for a noon start, any ideas about going horse riding, or go karting or just hanging around the pool sunbathing (because all three other families women/girls apparently knew about my “condition” thanks to mum’s remarks the previous night) had to be knocked back when asked, but we all agreed to meet up in the games room at about 4pm tomorrow and go from there.

After saying our goodnights to each other, dad somehow or another managed to get mum home more or less in one piece and I helped him get mum upstairs, before dad said he’d take it from there!

I As with last night it didn’t take long for me to turn off my light and go to sleep and not wake up until 8.30 the following day. I made myself breakfast of cereal and toast instead of going to the restaurant for breakfast (since I didn’t really know how to make myself up to look like Lee confidently enough) and I didn’t want to wake up mum or dad up. A sudden thought flashed through my mind and I dashed to the laundry to see that mum (or dad) had remembered to wash and hang out the uniforms last night and because I didn’t know who might be looking decided against going out into the small backyard to bring them in.

About ten o’clock I could hear footsteps coming downstairs and soon found my mother’s arms wrapped around me asking if I was ready to win today. I asked her how she felt and she laughed as she told me that she felt really good and surprisingly didn’t have a headache. Dad who was looking quite tired said that he had a tee off at 11.30 and told both of us he was sorry he might miss the match, which had mum order him to go and get our laundry from outside “and be a dear and set up the ironing board for me please pet wile I make us some breakfast.”

After they had eaten, mum made me watch her iron our skirts and tops before saying that we and dad had better start getting dressed for our games. Dad left us at around 11.15 since Dennis Weekes pulled up outside our unit in a hired golf buggy with Geoff Smyth sitting beside him and told him they had to hurry so as not to miss their 11.30 tee off time. Mum took extra care making sure that we both looked good for today before we both set off for the courts.

Oddly enough, I wasn’t feeling as apprehensive about being found out today as I had the last two days and was actually absorbing some of mum’s advice about how to play my singles game today as well as the doubles. Mum didn’t appear to have a care in the world and I felt that in some way I was repaying her in part for being my mother and assistant guider of my future up until today.

Our game was scheduled for court two today and mum exclaimed how she didn’t believe it when we saw the number of people that appeared (from the distance we presently were) to be at or nearby to our court. As we got closer we both recognised some of the people gathered around the outside of the courts who started chanting our team name as several of must them have spotted us (courtesy of our matching hairstyles and white windcheaters) walking towards the courts.

Mum thought it was a hoot and told me “Lee honey, our public awaits us” as we acknowledged several guest’s hellos and numerous anonymous best wishes. Our opponents were already warming up between them and after we had set down our bags at our seats on the court, our opponents (who I might add were also wearing matching coloured tops along with white shorts outfits) moved to the far side to allow us to do some extra warming up while they did theirs.

As our umpire climbed up into his chair he called out “five minute warm up ladies” as the person who had done the court announcements yesterday was introducing the players on court 1. During our warm up, some group started chanting our name similar to yesterday, so that when the announcer finally came to saying our names, ending with “The Cherrybums” mum and I took off our windcheaters while mum lifted the back of her skirt to flash her underwear, which made for a loud roar of approval then applause and a much louder chant as most of the crowd at our court started to join in the chant.

After about 30 seconds of this the umpire called for quiet and the crowd settled down. I was amazed that so many people seemed to be here to watch the match and remarked about it to mum who said we must have started a cult and happily laughed (probably at the thought of it) before we both went to the net and shook hands and introduced one another before I turned to mum and hugged her, then loudly said good luck and walked off to my chair to watch.

Mum’s opponent (Joy Carruthers) didn’t look to bad a player and made mum play hard against her before beating her 6-3, which after the umpire announced the result and the crowd starting to applaud, saw mum race up to and actually jump the net to shake hands with Joy and tell her she played a good game loud enough for those nearby to hear. Mum's sweat soaked body was testament to how hard Joy had made her play and the adrenalin from the exertion had her pumped sky high.

The crowd wanted to start up the chant again but the umpire firmly silenced them before advising everyone that the singles players should start their five minute warm up, which made both myself and my opponent (Annette) stand up and walk to the end we’d start our serves from. The umpire finally called time and with the words Miss Annette Carruthers to serve first, started our game.

Unlike yesterday, Annette’s service speed (after first faulting) was definitely as quick as my friend Marks was and I knew that I’d have a tough time winning. Our games went with service and by the time we were 4 games apiece, both of us were covered in sweat. My neckerchief was helping but I was finding out how uncomfortable it could be on your shoulders if your sports bra was drenched in perspiration as well! (A new first for you mum said at our last break after I quietly told her about how uncomfortable it felt on my shoulders!)

Our next game on Annette’s serve was almost my last chance to break through because if we got to 5 games apiece, she’d be serving for the deciding 6th and set victory. We both knew it, so neither of us were willing to give away a point and it ended up “deuce” was called by the umpire (mum told me later) an amazing nine times, before Annette cracked and I won the game. The umpire announced “5 games to 4, Miss Anderson to serve” and unlike ever other game so far between the two of us, Annette seemed to have completely wilted from her previous tough game and only won a single point to allow me to take the game and set 6-4.

Neither of us rushed to the net to congratulate each other let alone jumping the net as mum had done, but instead both dragged ourselves there to shake hands and say good game while the umpire announced set Miss Anderson 6 games to 4. The Andersons lead two sets to nil and the doubles will be delayed for ten minutes to allow the players to recover.

Mum came over and helped me to my seat before hugging me and saying how great I’d played. I was too hot to care and actually pushed her away, telling her she was making me too warm with her own body heat. Joy on the other side of the umpire’s chair came over and asked if we wanted to play the doubles because if her daughter didn’t feel better in ten minutes she’d have to forfeit the match. Mum went back over with her and looked at Annette while I sat there and guzzled water as if there was no tomorrow.

Eventually mum came back and told me that Annette was starting to recover and that her and Joy had convinced the umpire to give us an additional five minutes longer before we had to decide whether or not to scrap the doubles. By the time we were ready to go back out to play the doubles, six of the seven other courts games had been decided and our crowd had actually increased.

Our umpire was very understanding so that by the time the four of us walked out to start our doubles warm up, it had been almost half an hour since I’d won my match. The other court still playing I found out from someone in the crowd had actually been decided by the singles result, and their doubles match was almost over. By the time we had done our short warm ups the umpire at the other court was announcing the doubles result, so that just before we started our chair umpire told the crowd that because of the heat that both teams will try to play the doubles and he’d like to see that the crowd supported both teams equally and that provided the crowd’s encouragement didn’t delay the next point, everyone could cheer themselves horse, which had the crowd cheering and applauding the umpire.

Just before Joy was to serve to start the doubles, she ran to the net calling out for mum to meet her and they talked for a few moments before both headed back with mum telling me that each return of service would be a deep lob and see if we could all have a bit of fun. Joy’s first serve was slower than I’d seen in her singles match with mum, who lobbed a floating sky high ball back into play where Annette did her best to overhead smash it away, but sent it over the line to give us the point, love 15. And just like yesterday our doubles game turned into the team who did the least mishits won each game.

However unlike yesterday and despite mum’s best efforts, my mistakes were more than Annette’s and we lost the doubles game 3-6. The crowd cheered both teams evenly but I think that almost everyone was involved whenever the chanting started up after we won a game. Neither of the Carruther's women minded under the circumstances and I thought that like myself Annette would prefer to be going swimming now instead of playing tennis.

When the umpire called the doubles result, both teams were loudly applauded and cheered to our seats then off the courts, where both teams were seated in golf buggies and driven off to their rooms. When we walked through the door of our unit just after 3pm, both mine and mum’s faces were glowing red from the heat of the day and the cool air from the air conditioning was like manna from heaven. Dad, who was home from his golf game, exclaimed how we both looked like tomatoes our faces were so red. Mum simply said “long cool shower for you Lee, while I go upstairs to soak in a cool bath, but I want you to drink plenty of fluids while you’re cooling off in the shower. David, be a pet and bring up a bottle of water, a glass and both ice cube trays darling, then leave me in peace”.

The combination of a cool/cold shower, the air conditioning, a river of water and a lie on the bed in my 49er’s top, but sans undies, (which it was mum that had suggested it) saw me almost human by the time I was supposed to turn up at the games room at 4pm. I’d already texted Jane after I dried off and told her I couldn’t make it and that I’d see them all at the restaurant tonight so I just took the time to rest and actually napped until just before 6.

Probably mum had covered me with a sheet so that when I woke up I’d remember not to appear knickerless outside, so I put on a pair of panties under my top and went out to the TV room where dad was watching a baseball game and mum was reading a paperback. My sleep tousled appearance had mum asking me how I felt now and if I didn’t feel like it, we could order takeaway from the restaurant and eat in.

The air con, the sleep and surprisingly, the need to find out about tomorrow’s matches saw me asking when I had to get ready and mum’s reply saying that we’d start getting dressed in another half hour for our 7.15 restaurant booking that dad hadn’t cancelled yet. Mum smiled and told me she would have gone up to the main building if we’d been eating in our unit to find out about tomorrow, but she actually liked the idea of celebrating today’s win, but not as hard as last night’s celebrating.

By now I had almost convinced even myself that unless there was a major meltdown, I (mum, dad and I) could fool any of the people at the resort into thinking I was a teenaged girl. Certainly mum thought so and told me that I looked like any of the other girls staying at the resort. When we left our unit for our earlier dinner reservation, I felt quite comfortable wearing a blouse and skort along with the white shoes mum had purchased for me and I’d quickly grown accustomed to the previous night when I tried them out for the first time. Fortunately for me, mum chose shoes that allowed me to walk around with a small heel, (as she explained to me about how young girls liked to wear heels) but with it being almost the entire length and width of the shoe, there had been very little chance of me rolling an ankle.

We stopped off at the reception desk first, to find that we might have to play two matches the following day (Friday), with the first being at the much earlier time of 8am and if we won that match, we’d play in the semi-finals at 4pm. While mum and I were drawn to play against the Newman Ladies in our 8am game (who mum thought were beatable), even she acknowledged that the winner of our game would lose in the semi-final because three “seriously good” teams playing in the tournament hadn’t lost a game in either of their six sets played, although two of them were drawn against each other in the morning matches. Regardless of who won “that” match, the winner of our match against The Newman’s would be playing the winner of the “seriously good teams” match in our allocated semi-final slot!

Armed with this bad news, the three of us walked into the restaurant and our Maitre’D congratulated us on our match today before telling us that we’d have to hope for a lot of luck because we’d be playing against the one of the probable winners of the tournament if we made the final four cut off.

On being led towards our table a number of the resort’s guests started applauding us along with shouts of congratulations on our win. The Carruther’s family came over after we were seated and asked us how we pulled up afterwards while congratulating us on our victory. Joy said she hoped that we’d be able to chat afterwards as their waiter had told them the resort was going to allow any of today’s player’s tables to be placed together after everyone had eaten if anyone wanted to. Mum told her that we’d most likely have at least five other tables as well as hers joining together if the families all agreed, seeing The Weekes family entering the restaurant.

Within no time at all, a waiter was handing us our complimentary glass of champagne (mine with orange juice in it) and mum declared that she’d only have one more glass during the meal, just in case we had to play two matches tomorrow. As our reward for today’s result, dad ordered a seafood platter for the family “and hang the expense” to use his own words. As we ate we acknowledged the arrival around or near our table of the Smyth’s and Roger’s families who on seeing what we were eating, made for some interesting conversations about what to eat being overheard by our table.

In next to no time at all, the noise level at the tables surrounding or near our table caused by quietly shouted Q and A’s probably had the restaurant staff wishing the lot of us were seated outside eating. It got no better in several other areas of the large room, although mum told dad and I that none of the “super team family’s” tables were trying to mingle. While we were waiting for desert, our waiter approached our table and handed mum a bulky gift wrapped present, saying it was with the grateful compliments of the tennis shop manager before walking off to serve another table.

Mum unwrapping the gift to see four red headbands along with a number of matching coloured arm bands, 2 red caps as well as some red neckerchiefs and red towels. The note with the gift said “Thank you for your wearing those wonderful outfits. You managed to increase our turnover considerably because of them. With our sincere appreciation and best wishes for the rest of the tournament.” Naturally all the surrounding table’s patrons saw the contents as mum proceeded to hand the card around among the families that we had come to know to show them who'd sent it.

About 10 o’clock and with the restaurant starting to empty, various waiters went around and spoke to tables before beginning to move tables around or apart to form a number of larger tables for better socialising. Our nest had the Weekes’, Rodger’s, Smyth’s, Carruthers’ Evan’s and the Robert’s families around us. Mum I and dad were besieged with questions about tomorrow’s games by everyone, especially about how we’d go if we played in the afternoon semi match. Mum made it very clear that it would take a major catastrophe like the earth freezing over for us to even have a chance in hell of winning that match (if we even won the morning match) let alone making the finals, but at least her and I would be able to finally get to enjoy some of the resorts “other” facilities instead of the tennis courts, adding that the pool, spa and sauna would be getting some serious attention if she had anything to do with it.

Mrs Evans who I didn’t really know too well asked me if I’d been able to mix with some of the boys staying here and I shyly told her I hadn’t. Dad chipped in and said that if he saw me with any boys, he’d tan my hide so badly I wouldn’t be able to play tennis for a year. Mum butted in defending me saying that he’d do better to keep an eye on his son’s antics and leave his two daughter’s welfare to her to look after! Obviously this banter was all for the others around our tables benefits. Mum said “I’ve seen our son fondling his girlfriend Cathy’s breasts when he thought no one could see him beside the house, so don’t start up about my daughters morals” she reminded him.

Dad retorted that this was the first family holiday when the five of us hadn’t been together and that if he’d had his way, their eldest daughter wouldn’t be off with friends in another state and probably going out with strange boys who she didn’t really know. Various mums or dads were egging on one or the other in support of what was being said until mum played her ace in the hole telling dad that he didn’t have to worry about being a grandfather for a while because Monica had been on the pill since she was 14!

I had no idea that that was the case and it quickly became apparent that dad had no idea of it either!!! Mum then quietly told him that Monica had been put on the pill by their doctor because of the period pains she’d been getting each month. The other mothers seated around us nodding their heads in understanding, while the fathers looked away in other directions not wanting to know anything else. “And although Lee’s smarter than her sister David, when she turns 16 she’ll be allowed to go on the pill as well” she said with a smile and turning to me winked. TMI mum for strangers to know, T M I !!

Of course this made for all the other daughters who were old enough (and not on the pill) to put in their two cents worth along with several of them asking their mothers gently if they couldn’t go on it as well? All the 6 family’s sons there (who were between 8 to 19) decided to get up and leave for the games room as the conversation didn’t appeal to them in the slightest. Dad knew he was beaten and looking at ME said that we’d talk about this some more when we flew back home!!!!!

As if by magic the fathers all stood up and said they’d sit at the far end of the table and talk about organising some golf and shooting for the next few days. We older teenage girls (who had also partnered our mums in the tennis) moved to our own small area of tables where I was indoctrinated into the world of girlhood gossip. As a guy I’d often shoot the breeze about sex, girls and sport, but during the next half hour until we left, I learnt that teenage girls are “boy crazy” to the extreme. The other eight girls talked about nothing else but boys, either their own boyfriends, hip boys on the internet, or about several of the boys whose mothers and sisters were playing in the tournament.

It was dad who finally got us out of the restaurant and on the walk home he asked if Monica “was” on the pill. So mom told him that she was and had been for more than two years, adding that their storytelling in the restaurant hadn’t all been lies, then congratulated dad on his performance with Lee tonight, before saying to me in a silly voice “don’t you worry sweetie, mummy’s never going to make you take anything you don’t want to take!”

When we got in the unit, mum said I should get some sleep and she’d go to bed after she ironed our outfits. The next thing I remember was being woken up by dad telling me it was 6am and time to get ready.

I staggered out of bed exhausted and felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Yesterday’s heat had obviously taken more out of me than I realised. Almost fifteen minutes under the shower saw me starting to become human again and after drying myself off and donning another gaff and pair of panties managed to find a way to get my sports bra without any help from mum, before putting on my tennis outfit without having female eyes looking at me the entire time. Because of the early start time, breakfast was cold cereal again although dad had offered me toast (burnt).

I went into the TV room while dad cleaned up the kitchen and decided to try out the clothing gifts. I discovered that we had enough head and arm bands for both of us for four games if need be. I was just putting on my red cap, after already putting on a matching red head and arm bands as well as the neckerchief as mum came downstairs ready to go. She saw what I was doing and copied me, reminding me no to forget my red clip-ons. Mum suggested a light face touch up which I found I no longer detested so much, before packing several red towels in each bag and donning our light windcheaters before heading with dad out the door towards the courts.

With their only being four matches to be played this morning, each court seemed to have about the same number of people outside them to watch each match. As we came closer I saw all the other courts were empty of players although the four courts for our games had practices going on in each. It struck me at that moment that we didn’t seem to turn up until there was 10 or so minutes until we had to start and wondered if any of our opponents had thought that we’d been too arrogant of our abilities to turn up any earlier! When we were about ten yards from the court entrance, a cheer and chants of Cherrybums started up until it stopped when we were going out to warm up.

On the court’s either side of ours were the three “super teams” and you could tell from the sound of balls striking racquets, nets or fencing that all three teams appeared to have more powerful serves than our pop gun serves. Like the previous day the court announcer reminded everyone about tennis courtesy and that play would be delayed until there was complete silence and for no one to cheer loudly before the end of a point. Mum muttered to me about whinging to tournament people can work out…..even if you lost!

In another variation from previous days, every court’s players were introduced to the crowd before the umpires called the five minute warm up. We still got the loudest cheer and of course mum flapped the back of her skirt several times to show why we were called the Cherrybums. Our opponents the Newman’s (daughter Grace and mum Jean) decided to mimic us but were wearing green bottoms to our red bottoms which had mum saying to me “imitation’s a form of flattery Lee, feel flattered if you like.” Mum was DEFINITELY up for this game but along with me happily shook both women’s hands and wished them luck before we went back to our respective team’s baselines.

All four courts commenced almost at the same time. Mum managed to win her game on service, although Jean made her fight for each point. On the other courts, especially the three super team women’s teams, I quickly grew pissed off at the loud squeal grunts from their mouths. Our court did it occasionally too, but anyone would have conceded that the particular shot that drew the sound had been hit as hard as that player could. The other three courts were a constant litany of high pitched female squeals as they hit the ball. On court 1, the crowd aped the noise so often that after one point ended and one of the super girls complained to the umpire, the umpire had to remind the crowd not to call out anymore.

On court 3, which had the third super girl team playing, the first set was over 6 Zip while mum and Jean Neman were just starting the 4th game of their set. Court 1 was a much tenser affair with both teams shouting out at missing or making a good shot. Mum’s game was quite interesting to watch and she finally took set point to win her match 6 games to 3. My singles game although also tough saw me also winning but only just, 6 games to 5. Grace and I shook hands and I could see her eyes were red and that she was ready to burst into tears and actually began sobbing as she sat down beside her mum.

As a goodwill gesture, mum went up to the umpire’s chair and quietly asked for a delay of five minutes, which the umpire looking at the stifled theatrics on his right quickly agreed to. Mum returned to sit by me explaining that we’d have another 5 minutes before we had to get ready to warm up. Jean Newman came over and asked would we mind if they forfeited the doubles and with mum’s answer went to the umpire to advise him. When the umpire made the announcement of the forfeiture, most of the crowd groaned in disappointment before applauding as Jean and her daughter exited the court enclosure.

Dad came over and congratulated us before suggesting we should try and see the rest of the game on Court 1 and who we’d be playing this afternoon. It only took looking at one match for both mum and I to say to one another that I’d be lucky to win a game, as we watched in awe the power of the two teenage girls playing. Several people sitting on the bottom tier of the small portable grandstand, recognised us and offered to give up their seats for us to watch the match, but it only took watching the one singles game for both of us to know that we’d be if for a hiding in this afternoon’s semi, before the three of us headed back to the unit to relax and shower off.

Still once we got back mum still told me to get my dirty uniform off and put it in the laundry while telling dad to get hers once she was in the shower and put them in the washing machine setting it to do a fast light wash saying that we’d lose this afternoon but at least we’d show up wearing clean uniforms to do it.

Just before noon, mum said she felt peckish and suggested some lunch at the restaurant before coming back to the unit to relax before getting ready for our 4pm match. Dad thought it was a great idea while mum also suggested I wear a loose top and shorts with my sandshoes to the restaurant. Twenty minutes later we were walking into the restaurant, where unlike the evening meal where you had to book beforehand, the lunchtime rules allowed for a more casual and relaxed atmosphere and meals. As a matter of fact mum didn’t even say a thing when I ordered a hamburger and large fries as well as a large coke, or that I scoffed them, in her words “a most unladylike” manner although she didn’t seem that much different eating her own meal or dad his. During the meal we had several guests come up and congratulate us as well as wishing us the best for the afternoon.

When we got back to the unit, dad said he’d take in our uniforms and press them for the match. Mum and I seemed to silently agree to watch some mindless shoot um up movie on the TV until we needed to get ready. Mum thought that now would be the best the time to tell me how we should behave during the match with her admitting that she didn’t think she stood a chance against her opponent either and that regardless of how our opposition behaved, we should acknowledge well played points, not question any umpire line calls or try to play for sympathy from the crowd. She told me that she’d had a lot of fun playing and that if it hadn’t been for me, she probably wouldn’t have enjoyed dad’s holiday as much, telling me that from tomorrow morning onwards, I was to pick and choose what she and I did and let dad continue to enjoy himself in his own way. Dad still had the ability to surprise mum when he eventually presented for mum’s approval, our playing uniforms looking freshly laundered and ready to wear.

Time seemed to drag, because I could swear the wall clock showed it was 2.30 about an hour ago, until mum finally stood up telling me it was time to get ready and face the music. Mum said she’d liked to get dressed with me upstairs and asked me to give her ten minutes to put her uniform on saying I could put mine on down here and come upstairs and she’d do the finishing touches there.

Although I’d only been dressed as a girl since Tuesday afternoon, the fact that no one seemed to notice any anomalies about me, had me feeling far more comfortable now after four days than I could ever have imagined. Except for when we were playing tennis and dinner last night where I had to wear skirts, I’d worn either skorts or shorts with various tops the rest of time and didn’t seem to notice it after a while. Although I wasn’t keen on the small amount of makeup on me that mum usually applied, I could accept that I was making her happy and in a few days, I’d be dressing up as Leon again.

Perhaps because this was the semi-finals match and I never thought that both of us would actually get this far, was why I meekly allowed mum to doll me up a bit for our “goodbye” match and even (albeit reluctantly) walked through the mist of perfume she sprayed in the air when she said to. I even agreed I’d lift and flap the back of my skirt (along with her) when they announced our team name for this final Cherrybums appearance, which was quite a concession considering I absolutely hated the fact that each time I served a ball or had to move quickly in another direction I was showing off the red satin underwear under the skirt for all to see! Mum fussed around more than usual making sure that both hers and my red neckerchiefs were on correctly and that we had on our matching red head and arm bands as well as matching red ear rings (she had been so pleased that the salon had had two pairs of red clip-on solid circle earrings for her to purchase) along with our red caps.

Dad called out if we were ready and the pair of us walked down stairs rather solemnly while dad held our two playing bags (with our racquets, towels and what not) in either hand willing to be the “designated pack mule”. Since we had walked outside and it was only 3.30pm I thought today’s match would be another first, mum and I being early for a match. That aside there was the fact that “I’d certainly” be beaten 6 Zip as well, although I’d occasionally been beaten just as badly playing tennis in our Saturday afternoon team.

All the way there mum kept reminding me that she wanted to let everyone in the crowd see how a team “could lose with dignity” as she put it. While I had hated hearing the almost constant loud squeal and shrieks during this morning’s games, evidentially mum had in her words “actually loathed the fake-ness of it all” and said she was glad that neither of us had resorted to it. “We’ll show them proper A & C Lee” she said then laughed before adding “Arse and Class dear. We’re total arse and class and we’re going to prove it for the entire match”…..Well mum didn’t seemed to be to upset about being thrashed I thought.

Even with mum and I arriving ten minutes earlier than we normally did, both courts already had the other three teams practicing. Our appearance although the other three teams were wearing coloured matching outfits (although different colours to ours) saw the surprisingly large crowds at both courts loudly greeting our appearance. We even had a lot of the crowd chanting our team name which we realised must have been caused by the Weekes’, Roger’s, Smyth’s, Carruthers and surprisingly also the Newman’s (whose daughter Grace seemed quite OK now) when we saw them all seated on the top tier of the grandstand appeared to be chanting and clapping even louder than everybody else.

Our opponents, “The Evan’s Ladies” or at least what had to be the daughter, moved from the end of the court she had been practicing from back over to join her mother at the other end, which had mum quietly saying to me “that’s right you little show off brat, go run back to mummy” and the fact that my mother had even said this (although very quietly to me) actually made me start laughing, which only had mum telling me “even your old mum can’t abide show ponies darling.” I saw that dad had somehow or other managed to climb up and be seated among our “cheerleading” families who all three of us had become friends with during our stay, even the Newman’s who we’d only met (and played) that morning.

Although we arrived early, mum and I didn’t bother going out to practice until we had to, because when I suggested we go out and do some unofficial practice she told me that we didn’t need to practice only to be whitewashed after it. Instead mum said to follow her and went over and started taking to various people sitting on the bottom tier of the portable grandstand. She was laughing and joking with them about the fact that we had even gotten so far in the tournament and that it now had to end in a car wreck, while I had to also say something similar, since some of the people were also talking with me as well. When the same lady (in the resort jacket) that had spoken to us a few days ago, came up and made herself known, she suggested we make our way to the centre of the court, telling us that they were about to commence the introductions, as the p.a. system on court 1 finished their team’s introductions.

As we walked over to join our opposition at the middle of the net, our announcer waxed on lyrical about the fact that our opposition had won a crowd thrilling “ding dong” match earlier in the day by 2 sets to 1 and after some additional but useless additional fluff about them introduced Sue and Sally (daughter) Rudd to the crowd before saying that they were “The Blue Belles” as they took of their (new and spotless) tracksuit tops to reveal matching blue tops above white shorts and gave the crowd a wave and a bow.

Mum didn’t seemed too impressed by it and neither did I (in respect) as in the morning match they had worn matching yellow tops and I certainly couldn’t recall hearing that they had a “team” name then? The announcer then gave us an unexpectedly long introduction, naming the teams we had beaten to get here (but didn’t do so for The Rudd’s) before saying our names and loudly finishing with “The Cherrybums, ladies and gentleman” and of all four team name’s announced our crowd’s cheer for us seemed to be louder than any of the other teams. I (reluctantly) aped mum by flapping the back of my skirt up and down quickly several times to show off my underwear and privately thought that if any of my friends found out about this, I’d probably have to kill myself!!!!

After their 5 minutes warm up, mum and Sue Rudd started play. Mum had won the toss and served first and although trying desperately hard lost the game, managing only the one point. It became quickly apparent that her opponent was out for a quick kill as she managed to twice deliberately hit mum when returning volley shots, which a lot of the crowd groaned at, but probably not knowing how much it hurts when it happens. Mum walked off to rest before changing ends, quietly saying to me that she was completely outclassed but still asked me to look for any ways she could retaliate and win points.

After losing her next service game to Zip and the following one as well, she walked off with the score 4 Zip against her, but still applauding every winner that Sue Rudd made against her. While mum was sweating quite heavily, her opponent seemed to be completely unruffled and cool, judging by her appearance. Mum walked back out and fought tooth and nail for every point during the next game. Mrs Rudd was definitely in command, but mum wasn’t going down without trying to make a statement of some kind. She applauded each of her opponents winning shots, (unlike he opponent) and somehow managed to get the fifth game to deuce as both players traded fierce volleys for each point won, before mum lost the two following points. The crowd showed their appreciation by loudly applauding and several calling out “go the Cherrybums”. At least mum had finally made Sue Rudd sweat, as her face was now glistening in the sun.

Somehow or another (perhaps Sue Rudd took it easy) but to the delight of a loudly yelling crowd’s appreciation, mum won the 6th game on her opponent’s service. I stood up along with everyone else and applauded mum back to her chair to grab a drink, wipe the sweat off her arms and racquet before she went out to play the seventh game. Mum lost her service game (and the set) but walked off to a rapturous round of applause along with loud shouts of encouragement for a great effort.

My opponent and I did our 5 minute warm up, and Sally Rudd was to serve the first game. I didn’t see her first serve instead hearing a loud high pitched squeal, then saw a yellow blurry object go pass my outstretched racquet as I was hopelessly “aced”. I did exactly what mum had told me to do and applauded her winning shot, only to have her do it again on her very next serve. In all my life I’d never seen someone serve so fast and accurately and not thinking about where I was, subconsciously called out what I or any of my Saturday teammates usually did when our opponent was far better than us. “Come in Houston. We have a problem, do you copy” which bought loud laughter from the crowd along with light applause.

Her next serve was another carbon copy of the previous two, and I felt totally helpless to do anything about, instead unwittingly saying aloud “There’s a definite problem here, Houston” and the crowd broke up in hysterics. I somehow or another managed to feebly return her next serve (to ironic cheers from the crowd) only to have my opponent deliberately aim her return volley directly at me, which I only just managed to avoid. But just like the previous three points I simply acknowledged her shot, hoping I’d do better when I served next.

I didn’t. But I did have a victory of sorts as I won a point in that 2nd game, again to ironic cheers from the crowd and I would have loved to have taken my racquet and shoved it down MISS Sally Rudd’s throat as she sarcastically called out “good shot Lee”, before smashing her return volley on my next serve straight into my stomach, leaving me winded and sore.

I walked over to mum slightly doubled over and with mum asking me if I was hurt, before shaking my head and muttering quietly what I thought of the bitch. Mum said I could only do my best but she was proud of me and the crowd wanted me to win some points against her. During our rest the umpire had to remind the crowd not to make any noise during play, which might have related to the crowds laughter at my comments, although a lot of people in the crowd were making high pitched grunts after each of my opponents serves or volleys.

I walked back out to face “Godzilla’s” next service game and after faulting on her first serve, sent down a 2nd serve almost as fast as her first serves. I managed to get the edge of my racquet on the ball only to see it fly sideways and high over the side fencing. Again I acknowledge my opponent’s point but saw the smug smirk on her face along with the arrogant contempt she must have had for my play.

Her first serve of the 3rd game saw me hitting the return into the net, but again applauding her before swapping to the other side for her next serve. As she leapt slightly into the air to hit her serve she squealed (grunted) differently and I watched the yellow ball balloon off to her left as she began screaming and crying in pain and calling repeatedly for her mother.

You could hear the crowd gasp as I watched her mother (as well as mine) race over to help her. I walked up to the net to see what the matter was and along with almost everyone who could hear, heard her mother inform mine that her daughter had torn her hamstring again and had just recovered from a previous hamstring injury, before apologising to my mother saying that they had to forfeit the match!

I stood stunned for a moment, before quickly going over to join them and even ended up taking one of her arms over my shoulder and along with her mother on her other side, help her to limp off the court to a chair where she was slowly eased down onto it. My mum being who she was, offered her sympathy over the injury, saying that her and her mum would’ve certainly won the finals tomorrow and gave her a motherly hug and a kiss, which prompted me to say something similar and give her a friendly peck on the cheek too.

The players on court 1 had stopped play because of the commotion on our court, with the third “super ladies” coming over to find out what was wrong. I could have sworn I saw them beaming like Cheshire cats as soon as they realised the seriousness of the injury to the daughter of the team they were expecting to play in the final and were now certain that they’d be the tournament winners after tomorrow, before offering their commiserations and returning to resume their own match.

As the crowd dispersed from our court to either watch the other match or go somewhere else, dad came up to me and quietly asked if I’d ever thought mum and I would ever get to the tournament final and I shook my head saying no way. We waited around until an ambulance arrived to take the Rudd daughter (along with her mother) off to the nearest hospital. I mightn’t have particularly liked the girl personally, but while we had waited with them, her mother explained to mum (and I) how her daughter Sally had had a disastrous run of injuries, which after an enforced rehabilitation had left the both of them to believe that she was healthy again and Sally was looking forward to qualifying for the junior US open tennis tournament. No wonder she seemed to play so well!!

Just before the ambulance arrived, both Rudd women were downcast at hearing the announcement that the winners on court 1 were Elaine and Debbie Rutgers, who would meet the Anderson ladies in the tournament final starting at 9am tomorrow. Mum (and also my dad) seemed almost as distraught as was Sue Rudd for her daughter’s injury and I suppose I was too, but at the same time I couldn’t forget the smirk on her face after her volley had hit me right in the stomach!

After the ambulance had left, the three of us headed back to the unit, to shower off as well as to apply ice packs. Later on mum and I compared our bruises, with mum’s verdict being that if it had been my sister instead of me, she'd have had to wear a one piece swimming costume for a week or so! With the rest of the day free, mum said the two of us should visit their pool as well as the sauna, and possibly the masseur but that I could only sunbathe, promising me that when we got back home to our house, I could spend the rest of summer break every day at the pool or any other place I wanted to so as to make up for what I was going through now.

Our trip to the pool didn’t entail much dressing up for either of us, as mum simply donned her bikini and covered herself with a skirt wrap, thongs and top although I had to change into shorts with a very thin cotton top so I didn’t cook myself sunbathing. We ran into some of the families we’d befriended and after a few hours, ended up drinking non-alcoholic fruit cocktails into several groups comprising of mothers and separate ones for daughters and another for sons and a few daughters. The dad’s all decided to go and try out the pistol and rifle range, along with some of the boys. I’d have loved to have gone too, but a quick look from dad told me not to even ask.

When we turned up for dinner that evening, we found the waiter seating us next to the Rudd family and that Sally was OK now but was scheduled for surgery at a hospital in Memphis in a week’s time. Her crutches were the only thing I needed to see to know that the poor girl was in for a rotten time for the rest of her school break. I also found that she was really very attractive, funny that I would have almost died to have had the chance to gone out with her on a date, if circumstances had been different.

Just before 10pm, the waiters came round and began moving around tables to make for a more convivial atmosphere and we were shocked to see how many tables formed our gathering and how quickly it became the noisiest group as well. The waiters were constantly going to the bar with orders for drinks although mum and I only had our free alcoholic drink, before turning to fruity cocktail drinks. What did surprise me was how I ended up among a group of teenage girls AND boys talking about movies, sports, music, who we liked on so forth, which mum told me when we got back to the unit had her and dad wondering if I wasn’t thinking about changing teams, adding that she kind of liked the idea of another daughter! You can imagine my reply to that!!

How the hell we made the final was beyond mum's, dad's or my comprehension, but here we were “The Cherrybums” walking onto the court with all sides of the court filled with over 200 people sitting in the portable grandstands applauding us as we sat down under two large umbrellas to help us against the sun.

The Rutgers ladies came over and congratulated us on making the final and wished us the best, which of course mum and I did in return. The final was everything the crowd had expected as was the result (I would have thought so anyway) as we were thrashed 3 sets to Zip managing to win only two games and they were in the doubles where I think that Debbie and her mum Elaine allowed us to win a couple.

Mum and I both agreed that Debbie and Elaine were even more powerful and stronger players than the Rudd’s had been, who I might add were in the crowd cheering loudly for us, all to no avail. After the match the announcer said that the trophies would be presented to the winners and runners up at tonight’s presentation dinner/ball, before everyone wandered off or else waited for things to be moved away from the other nearby courts which were fully booked for the rest of the day from noon onwards.

Personally I was glad the whole thing was over only wishing I could go swimming but knew I’d be able to when we flew home……………..

And I suppose any of you reading this tale would be thinking "FIN”…”The End”….“Th,Th,Th, That’s All Folks”…. BUT, surely there MUST BE some sort of sting in the tale. What about Leon’s sister Monica? What happened there? …………. And you’d be right, we’re not quite finished yet!

After our obligatory showers when mum and I returned to the unit, dad ordered pizzas and during our feast, we were disturbed by someone knocking at the door. Mum quickly looked at me and told dad I looked presentable before he headed for the door to see who it was and someone’s voice spoke for about a minute before moments later, dad led the Rutgers ladies (Debbie and Elaine) along with three gentlemen from the Resort’s management into the kitchen, where dad said that something had arisen and suggested I grab some chairs and put them in the TV room where we could all sit and discuss it.

Five minutes later and after a stunning announcement by the resort’s GM, mum, dad and I looked at each other dumbfounded as we all tried to comprehend what this bombshell meant…………

Debbie and Elaine looked embarrassingly shamefaced while the resort's GM had told us that the ladies weren’t a mother and daughter team, but actually two people with no familial relationship to one another, who several times a year stayed at resorts like this one which held tennis tournaments which they entered. They’d won a number of prizes in the four years they’d been doing it, including cars, boats and trips, but unfortunately one of the non-playing guests had recognised the woman Elaine as she lived in the same street as her in Ohio but knew her under another name.

The Resort GM apologised to us and wanted to know if we wished to consider taking any legal action against the resort, which he was hoping could be prevented if we could reach an amicable settlement. Mum asked if anyone else knew about this, and was informed that the guests who had alerted the Resort management had checked out this morning. Mum asked the obvious question as to why were the two women allowed to play in the final, to be told that although the departed guests had informed the resort staff on Thursday, the resort had had to investigate if the claims were correct or not, which had only been confirmed at around noon.

It was dad who said that the tournament prize of $3,000 in clothing would be immediately contested by teams who had been beaten, which the GM agreed would probably be the case. One of the other two gentlemen stating that he was the legal consultant for the resort, said that they expected to have to possibly payout anywhere between $100,000 to possible as much as several million if any of the potential claims for recompense went to other states for jurisdiction.

Mum asked what the resort intended to do and the GM looked at his legal counsel again for advice. The legal gentleman said that this would depend on what we decided to do. The resort was hoping to keep the matter from becoming known to the media and that whatever agreement (if any) that WE reached with the resort would entail a declaration of non-disclosure being signed and that the families who had lost to the Rutgers would be offered heavily discounted accommodation costs under the guise of a lucky dip draws.

Mum and dad asked if they could discuss this in private and walked into my bedroom, leaving me alone with the others, which is how I learnt what the term “uncomfortable silence” really meant.

When my parents came back out, mum acted as spokesperson and said that because so many people had watched the tennis final and knew who the winners were and most if not all would be at the dinner this evening, the best solution would be to present the winner’s trophy to the winners and we’d accept the runners up trophy. Mum said that the $3,000 clothing gift need not be officially presented this evening, but that we’d expect to be given the gift voucher along with free accommodation and food costs, which we would accept as full and final settlement and sign an agreement to that effect any time before 6pm this evening.

Mum also suggested that instead of offering large discounts in accommodation costs to the other four families concerned, perhaps the resort management would consider giving the other families $500 clothing gift vouchers in lieu, under the guise of a (rigged) lucky door prize draw, which no one else need know about.

Both the GM and the legal gentleman felt that we were being exceptionally gracious to the resort and that all of the conditions would be met and if we could call into the GM’s office in thirty minutes, the documents would be ready for signing as well as the gift voucher in the name of mum and myself, which mum asked that it be made out to Mr and Mrs Anderson as they didn’t wish to spoil me!

With relief on their faces all three men left along with the two "Rutger" women accompanied by dad to the front door, where he said that we’d be up to sign the documents at 2.30pm. When dad came back in, he looked at mum and she looked at him before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, while I had a broad grin of my own. When mum had recovered, she said this had been the damnedest family holiday she’d ever been on, only to have dad add that the best part was that it all ended up being free and that she would be able to go shopping for a new wardrobe of clothes, telling me that my gift would be that electric guitar I’d been hoping to have given to me for Xmas.

About twenty minutes later, the three of us headed to the resort’s main building and shortly afterwards left it, with a clothing voucher not for $3,000 but for $4,500 which the GM said was an unofficial thank you for being so reasonable about the matter. On the way back mum said that now she could even have my sister benefit from it all as well, adding (on seeing the look on my face) that Monica after all was her other daughter!

The presentation dinner went off without any problems and after dad had an early game of golf the next morning, we checked out and drove off headed for a 5 o’clock flight back to Louisiana. On the way we stopped off at the salon where Maree turned me back into an almost crew cut Leon and I walked out of there in my own clothes happily lugging Lee’s suitcase to the car and into the boot. It felt kind of funny to have my hair cut so short but dad assured me I no longer looked like his daughter. The taxi pulled up to our house at just after 10pm and within 30 minutes everyone was asleep.

The next day, I spent texting or calling friends to finding out what had happened while I was away while trying to organise something for tomorrow. Mum had spent the morning washing and hanging out the family’s clothes, and only stopped when dad called out coffee was made. The three of us sat down and mum said that although she and dad promised they wouldn’t say a word about Lee, mum had unknown to me put our trophy up on the mantelpiece along with a few photos of our presentation and one’s of us playing in a match as well as a group photo with so of the people we’d befriended at the resort.

When I saw them and whiningly complained to have everything put away somewhere, mum looked at me with her lost puppy face before asking if her, dad and even I couldn’t tell my sister about everything that had happened, telling me how furious my sister would be about not coming after she’d been told about our antics. She promised that dad and her would threaten my sister with no allowance for a year if she ever tried teasing me about it anytime. Reluctantly I agreed, but reminded mum not to trying to add any bull when she or dad told Monica about what had happened.

Late that afternoon my sister got out of a taxi and walked to the front door using her key to get in. Mum was waiting in the hallway and the two of the hugged before Mon stepped back and told mum she looked a bit like Liza Minelli, before going over to give dad a hug, then looking at me, asked whose lawnmower had run over my head!

After putting the luggage in her bedroom, she came back into the family room and at mum’s behest started telling us that her and her friends had had a fab time and she had so much to tell us about. She spent an hour telling the three of us about her trip and who she met, and to dad’s question had she gone out with any boys while she was away, told dad that she hadn’t but her face showed a confused look on it before asking dad why he was looking at her so oddly. Mum sternly told dad “don’t you dare say ONE word if you know what’s good for you”.

Mum quickly started up telling Mon in a blasé and offhand manner that we’d all had a good holiday, especially her father who she told Mon had played tons of golf and done some shooting (adding a god forbid straight after it) and that we all did some ten pin bowling and even go karting. Monica said she was sorry that she hadn’t been able to go too but she hoped mum wasn’t too disappointed that they hadn’t been able to play in the mother daughter tournament.

That’s when mum told her she had a surprise to show her and proceeded to get up and go into the lounge room and come back holding a large trophy with 2 female tennis players atop of it. She handed it to my sister who looked at the inscription, before asking bewilderedly who Lee Anderson was and mum and dad cracked up.

Eventually mum said it’s a long story and asked dad to show my sister some of his photos. Mon looked at them and said who was the girl mum had talked into getting matching hairstyles and would have liked to ask her how mum talked her into both the hairstyles and agreeing to play as her daughter. She asked me if I had got the hots for the girl and did I asked her out while they were at the resort. I looked at mum and grinned before telling my sister that she’d already met Lee before and that I knew for a fact that Lee didn’t like her that much. Monica got a bit huffy before saying that whoever this girl Lee was, she doubted that she would have told ME that, asking what her surname was because she didn’t recognise her face!

Monica still didn’t understand why mum and dad were quietly chuckling and felt left out about something she didn’t know, but that everybody else seemed to know. Mum showed a fake shocked expression while trying to hold back her laughter when she asked her daughter didn’t she know Lee and held an enlarged photo up next to my face. My sister was adamant in saying that she’d never met this girl Lee before, to have mum assuredly tell her that she actually had and she knew it because Lee was sitting beside right now.

Monica looked at me, looked at the photo, back at me, then at mum, then at the trophy, then at a grinning dad, before stuttering in disbelief, “oh my god, your short hair, mum’s Liza hair style” before pausing a moment to comprehend what she had just learnt. “You’re Lee?” she said in stunned disbelief looking at me. Then seeing my red face and grin while hearing her parents roaring with laughter, she screamed in excitement shouting out that she wanted to know how we got away with it.

Mum told her it was a long story and that dad would phone for Chinese takeaway and while we ate we’d tell her the story and in the meantime she could go collect her dirty clothes and take them out to the laundry for washing tomorrow and then she could look through the clothes that “I’d” worn and sort out what might fit her, with any of the clothes that she didn’t want could go to charity.

While Monica went and removed her dirty clothes for washing later on, Mum went and got “Lee’s” suitcase of clothes and put them in my sister’s room and along with mum sorted through the bag of clothes I’d worn. When she reappeared with mum, she cattily told me that she now had a pile of new clothes to wear and poked her tongue out at me.

Eventually the food was delivered and for the next two hours with dad’s photos for proof and with all three of us telling different parts, my sister learnt about how for five days she’d had a sister she’d never known about. At the end of the story, dad again reminded her that the three of them had signed a non-disclosure agreement which now had to include her, and that the photos of Lee would be locked safely away, except for several which were going to be framed to make a circular montage and along with the trophy would go on the shelf above the fireplace.

My sister looked at me again and at the photos and continued to repeat OMG’s till even mum started to get fed up. Mum then told her that her little sister Lee had also agreed to let her big sister share in a gift and told her about the gift voucher mum had and for how much. Monica’s eyes lit up and said we were all big poos for not telling her about what we’d (?????) planned and that she wouldn’t have stayed with her friends but would have stayed with us, to see it for herself.

Mum looked at dad and remarked ironically “Now why didn’t we think of that dear” before telling my sister how I didn’t like having to dress up as Lee, because I’d had to give the usual excuse girl’s excuse for not going swimming. When Mon finally realised what mum meant she almost crapped herself in laughter before gasping for breath asked me if I had any spare panty pads she could borrow!!!!!

DEFINITELY THE END.