{This is one from the archives. This one originally dates from 2009 and was finished in 2018 after several previous attempts that got nowhere}

It was the height of the morning rush hour and the crowds of commuters were on their way to work.

Pierre Clement was one of the commuters who in their tens of thousands made their way from Waterloo to their place of work five mornings a week, week in, week out, year in, year out. Most of the time, he was just another face in the throng of people using the station.

Pierre had been living in London for more than ten years and ran a Wine Importers that was based on the western edge of the ‘Square Mile’. He waited patiently for the No 243 bus to take him to his stop on Theobalds Rd. He was not in a good mood that morning as another passenger on the 07:45 from Guildford had spilt their coffee when the train stopped at Effingham Junction with an unexpected jolt. Quite a lot of it ended up on the previously immaculately pressed trousers of his business suit. Several other passengers did a good bit of ‘effing’ of their own.

To add insult to injury, the passenger had the temerity to blame him for their folly. That got no support from the other passengers who said nothing as was normal for London commuters. The woman stormed off much to the relief of Pierre.

Dozens of people were heading down the steps outside Waterloo Station and making a dash for the bus shelters. The rain was pretty incessant on this late November morning.

When Pierre reached the bus stands at the front of the Station, the normal queues of passengers waiting for their bus to work had as if by magic, vanished. He wondered if perhaps the rain had made many passengers switch to using the tube for their journey to work.

---

Pierre stood in what was for once a very short queue and waited for his bus. On days like this, he did dream about retuning to live in his home village that nestled deep in the Medoc close to the Atlantic Coast north of Bordeaux. He missed the fresh sea air and the water skiing but London was a much more cosmopolitan city. Here there were shops and clubs that catered to people like him. Back home, this was just not possible as everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business.

His dreaming of home was cut short when his bus pulled in and only the front doors on the double Decker opened. A few people including Pierre moved forward towards the open door.

Two people had climbed aboard. It was almost Pierre’s turn. There was just one woman in front of him.

Suddenly, there was a commotion on the bus and two large men appeared at the doors and barged their way off the bus all the time shouting abuse at the driver.

The next thing Pierre knew was an excruciating pain in his left foot as the woman in front of him stumbled back under the onslaught of the two men disembarking from the bus.

Pierre cried our loud. In fact, he almost screamed as he fell to the ground with the woman on top of him.

In the midst of the commotion, the two men ran off down Waterloo road.

The woman whose landing had been cushioned by Pierre got to her feet. It was only then that someone cried out.
“There is blood coming from his shoe!”

Everyone stopped to look at Pierre’s left foot. His lightweight shoe had been no protection to the stiletto heels that the woman was wearing.

Pierre was trying to get to his feet but the sheer agony of his foot stopped him.

Someone else cried out ‘someone dial 999. This man needs an ambulance’.

By now, another No 243 bus had arrived on the scene. The driver of the first bus was busy ushering passengers from his bus onto the second one. When his bus was empty, he directed two bystanders to lift Pierre out of the rain and onto the bus. At least that got him out of the rain not that it mattered much, his overcoat and suit were wet through.

A few minutes later, the sound of sirens drew closer.

By now, there was just Pierre, the bus driver and a very distressed woman who was blaming herself for causing so much damage.

Pierre had already resigned himself for a trip to the hospital and was trying to calm the woman who had stepped on him down. She was in tears. The bus driver was on the radio to his depot explaining the situation.

The two members of the Ambulance crew came on board the bus. It was obvious from the pool of blood that Pierre was going ho have to be taken to hospital but they had to go through their processes before they pronounced that a trip to Hospital was needed.

Once they’d decided on a plan, it didn’t take them long to wrap his foot up and then they were able to get him off the bus and into the Ambulance for the short trip to the nearby to St Thomas’s Hospital.

---

“We’ll soon have you in Casualty,” said the lead Paramedic as he made sure that Pierre was comfortable in the Ambulance.

“That’s fine,” replied Pierre.
He knew that he wasn’t going anywhere fast.

Pierre thought for a few seconds as the Ambulance moved off into the rush hour traffic.
“Could you have the driver stop for a few seconds before we get to the hospital? I’d like to call my office to let them know that I’m not going to be in for a while.”

The Paramedic joked.
“From what I can tell, I think you will be off work for several days at least. It could be more if any bones are broken.”

He called out to the driver.
“Dave. Can you pull up outside the Casualty, our passenger wants to call his office?”
“Ok Charlie,” came the reply from the cab.

The ambulance came to a stop some 30m from the entrance to the Casualty Department.
Pierre extracted his phone from this briefcase and dialled his office.

After what seemed an eternity, the phone was answered.
“Hello Julia. This is Pierre. I’m afraid I’m not going to be in work today or tomorrow at least. I had a little accident at Waterloo while waiting for the bus. I’m being taken to the Casualty department at St Thomas’s. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Oui. Merci Julia. Au revoir”
He closed his phone and sat back.

“I thought I detected a French accent,” said Charlie.

“I’ve been here for more than 10 years. My family think I have gone Native.”
They both laughed.

Dave, the driver had parked the vehicle and opened the rear doors.
“Right ho Pierre, let’s get you inside.”

The Paramedics soon wheeled him inside the bustling Casualty department. They were directed to an empty bay not far from the Nurses station.

A few minutes later, a nurse came to take down some details.

After she had written down everything, she looked underneath the dressing that was covering his foot.
“Ouch. I bet that hurt.”

Pierre grimaced. He was resigning himself to being here for some time.
“I’ll get the Orthopaedic Registrar to come and take a look as soon as we can get your shoes and socks off,” said the nurse.

With that, she walked off.

“Are you ok now?” asked Charlie.
“I think so. I expect to be here for some time”
Charlie looked around.

“It’s not too busy at the moment but you’ll probably be here until lunchtime at least.”
“Thanks Charlie.”

“Good Luck Pierre,” said Charlie as he left Pierre on his own.
“I’m going to need it,” thought Pierre.

The Nurse returned about 10 minutes later.
“The Registrar will be here shortly,” she said trying to sound cheerful.

“Nurse, I have a little problem,” explained Pierre.

“If you need to use the toilet, I’ll bring a bottle?”

“No, it is not that”

“What is it then?”

Pierre resigned himself to some embarrassment so he thought he might as well get it over and done with.

“I’m wearing stockings,” he whispered.

The nurse who was in her late 20’s laughed.

“Don’t worry about that. We see this all the time”

“And knickers and a corset”

“Oh, I get the gist” she replied suddenly a bit more seriously.

Without making any fuss at all, she turned on her heels and started to draw the curtains around the bed.

“Let’s get the corset off you to begin with. Can you roll over onto your side?”

Pierre rolled over.
She pulled his shirt up out of his trousers to expose the back of the corset. It was red with a black silk edging.

“This is really beautiful,” she said encouragingly.

“Thanks,” replied Pierre as she started to loosen the laces.

After a bit of a struggle with the lacing, she had undone the corset sufficiently to allow the garments busk to be opened.

She made a move to peel it off his body.

“There are eight suspenders,” he whispered.

“Oh, very kinky,” she grinned at him in reply.

Her deft hand soon undid the clips on the suspenders and the corset was removed. She held it up to her body.
“This is really beautifully made,” she said.

Pierre blushed.

“I had it made for me in Paris.”

“Is that where you are from then?”

“No,” he laughed.

“I’m from the south west of France. Not far from Bordeaux.”

“I’d love one like this she replied,” with a big smile on her face.

“I could write down the address of the corsetiere who made it if you like.”

“I couldn’t afford it.”

“If you really want one then you could,” replied Pierre.

“I suppose so…” she replied with a sigh.

She looked around and saw Pierre’s small briefcase.

“This won’t fit in there very easily”

“I think I can find something to wrap this up in if you will hang on a moment,” she added.

As he replied, “I’m not going anywhere,” she was already out of the cubicle and away on her search for something to wrap up his corset.

Pierre retrieved the garment from the end of the bed and tucked it under the blanket just in case anyone else poked their head around the curtain. Pierre hid his other life from just about everyone. Only his sister who worked for a fashion house in Paris knew of his alter ego. The accident today was a blow to his self-confidence. Having to show off his undergarments to a complete stranger was just not something he’d ever expected to have to do.

The nurse soon returned with a couple of plastic bags.

“These will have to do.” She stated.

She put the corset into one bag and then sealed it with bandage tape. Then she put the other bag over the first and taped it up.

“There. That’s it locked away safe and sound,” she said with a big smile on her face.

She picked up his chart and wrote a few things on it.

Then she completed the undressing job by removing his trousers, shoes, socks and stockings.

The wound on his foot was clearly visible. A ‘D’ shaped impression in his skin, which had swollen considerably. There was some blood oozing from the heel shaped wound. She gently put a dressing on it and wrote a few more things down on his chart.

Then she looked at him over the top of her glasses.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you go out… you know dressed up?”

“Yes. I do quite frequently,” he replied quietly. There was little use denying what he did most weekends.

Just then, Pierre was saved from any further questioning by the arrival of the Orthopaedic Registrar.

“Hello. I’m Dr Jones. What do we have here?”

“Doctor. This is Pierre Clement from Guildford. His foot was injured by a stiletto heel on his way to work this morning.”

“Bloody Stiletto’s. Not only do they cause untold damage to the wearer but can cause really nasty injuries to others.”

Dr Jones looked at his foot. He gave the foot a gentle examination. As he did so, he said,

“Well Mr Clement, from a cursorily examination I would expect that there is at least one broken bone. However, to be sure we will need to get some X-Rays done. If it has done the damage I think it has, then we will need to operate to get things back in the right place.”

He looked directly at Pierre.

“I would expect that you have broken one of your Metatarsal’s just like any number of Premiership Footballers. However, the X-Ray will confirm that. If so then I think we should admit you for a day or so. Then we can operate on your foot and put the bone back in its rightful place. Anyway, once the X-Rays are done I’ll have a better understanding of what damage has occurred. I’ll be back to see you then.”

“I’ll get a porter to take you to X-Ray,” said the nurse.

“Thanks Nurse. Any chance of giving me something for the pain?”

“I’m afraid not. If you are going to have an operation today then you will have to have some anaesthetic, which might react with any painkillers. If you are lucky and there is no broken bone then you can have some. If you can hang on until after the… “
“I know the X-ray.”

She smiled at him before leaving him alone once more.

About 5 minutes later, an orderly arrived to take him to X-Ray.
“It won’t take long. I was just up there. It’s not busy at the moment,” said the man as he was pushed in a wheelchair towards the lift.

---

True to his word, it was less that 30 minutes before Pierre was once again back in Casualty.

The nurse reappeared and looked briefly at them on her tablet.
“I’ve got your X-Rays. I can see that at least one bone is broken. I’ll call the doctor.”

They both appeared in his cubicle around 15 minutes later. Dr Jones looked in detail at the X-ray on the Nurses Tablet.

“As I suspected, your 3rd Metatarsal is broken. Quite cleanly as far as I can see. That is good. It won’t need pinning but a resetting and then we’ll put your foot in plaster to immobilise it.”

“So, what happens next?” asked Pierre.

“Well, that was the good news. The bad news is that this can’t be done under a local anaesthetic. There is a bed for you upstairs so the sooner we can get you on the ward, the sooner we can schedule you for theatre. I looked a little while ago and there is a free slot in Theatre No 4 at two this afternoon. Then if it is successful, you will have to stay in at least one night for observation after the anasthetic.”

The Doctor looked at his watch.

“Thanks for being honest with me.”

“All part of the service. I’ll be the one doing the operation so I’ll see you in theatre.” said Dr Jones before he disappeared.

“It looks like you won’t be in high heels yourself for a while,” said the nurse who’d stayed behind after the doctor had left.

“How did you know that I wear heels?”

“Most people like you do but I can see how your little toe is curved under the next one. This is a good sign that that person wears high heels with a pointed toe and quite often as well. My mother’s toes were just like that. She worked for John Lewis on the Perfume for twenty years. They were required to wear heels every day, all day.”

“You are far too clever by half, Nurse.”
“Thank you, kind sir. That is the best compliment anyone has given me today.”

She filled in a few details on the charts at the bottom of the bed.

“Right. I’ll get the porter back again. He can take you up to the ward.”

“Thank you for everything Nurse. You have been most understanding.”

She blushed.

“I’ll come by later on to get that address in Paris if that is ok?”

Pierre smiled back.

“Of course.”

Just as she was about to leave him alone once more, she stopped and turned to face him again.
“Oh, I forgot. You have a visitor.”

Pierre was puzzled. He thought that it was probably someone from work come to see how he was.

“Send them in,” he replied trying to sound cheerful.

She disappeared and a minute or so later the curtains were pulled back. Standing there was the young woman whose heels had caused the damage to his foot.

“Hello,” she said with a nice smile on his face.

“I want to apologise for standing on your foot.”

Pierre smiled at her.
“It wasn’t your fault. Those men pushed you. You had to put you foot somewhere. It just happened to be in the same place as mine.”

“I’m Pierre by the way.”

“Oh sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m Amanda Jeffries but you can call me Mandy, all my friends do.”

“Pleased to meet you Mandy.”

“May I sit down?”
“Please do. But, I’m off to a ward in a moment or two. I have to have an operation.”

She looked sad.
“The thing is, I don’t normally wear heels to work. It’s just that I was supposed to be going out with the girls from the office tonight to a few clubs. They all wear these really high heels. I suppose I wear them to keep up with them.”

“Some women look really good in heels,” replied Pierre.

“Eh?”

“You are one of those who do,” he added.

“Are you trying to pick me up?”

He laughed.

“I saw you while I was in the Ambulance. Those shoes suit you very well. They are not too high.”

She looked at him with a very straight face

“I take it you study these things then?”

“I might,” replied Pierre smiling wistfully.

Before the conversation could continue the orderly arrived to take Pierre to the ward.

“Which ward are you being taken to?” asked Amanda.

“I don’t have the faintest idea. I guess that sort of information is on a need to know basis and… apparently, I don’t need to know at this point in time…”

“Northumberland Ward Miss,” said the porter as he arrived with a wheelchair.

Amanda smiled.
“I’ll come back later on to see you. Is there anything you need?”

Pierre laughed.

“Some magic so that my foot gets better without an operation would be nice but otherwise, a toothbrush and some toothpaste would be good.”

She grinned.
“I’ll see what I can do. It’s the least I can do after what I did earlier.”

“Thanks.”

With that, Pierre was wheeled off towards the lift.

---

Pierre came around after the operation just after 6pm. As he woke up and began to see things once more, he was startled to see Mandy sitting there beside his bed.

“Hello sleepy head.”

“Uhh. What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?”

“I don’t know.”

She took hold of his limp hand.

“I’m trying to make amends for this morning.”

“You don’t have to. It was a pure accident on your part.”

“You are in here only because I was wearing these,” said Amanda lifting up one foot to show the heels that caused all the trouble.

“It is alright. Really”

“These are going in the bin when I get home,” said Amanda in a matter of fact way.

“You don’t have to do that. Besides, as I said before, you look good in them.”

He closed his eyes again.

---

When he opened them some time later, Amanda was still there holding his hand.
“Are you still here? What time is it?”

“I’m still here. I’ll be off soon. It is just before 8:00pm.”

“Shouldn’t you with your friends at some club somewhere?”

“No. I phoned them earlier and told them about the accident.”

Pierre smiled and said
“Don’t tell me, you gave them the ‘good Samaritan’ tale?”

“No. Not exactly.”

“Thanks for being here anyway. It is nice to see a friendly face.”

“I brought you some ‘essentials,’” said Amanda.

“Thanks. I should be going home tomorrow.”

“Where is home by the way?”

“Guildford. Or well as close as makes no difference.”

She looked relieved.

“That’s not far from me. I live just outside Woking.”

He closed his eyes again in the hope that she would go away, he wanted to rest.

Some time later, he opened them and he was alone. His foot was throbbing so he called a nurse.

“Could I have one of the pain killers that the doctor mentioned?”

She looked at his charts.

“Yes. The doctor has prescribed some if you need them. Do you need anything else?”

Pierre realised that his stomach was grumbling.
“I’ve not eaten anything since yesterday. Any chance of some comfort food?”

The nurse looked at him sternly to begin with.

“I shouldn’t really but I don’t think a chocolate bar or two will hurt.”

“Please. Take some money from my wallet.”

“Later. I’ll get something when I go for my break in about 10 minutes. Then you can pay me for what I spent.”

“Thanks Nurse.”

She returned with a painkiller and some water a few minutes later.

“Your girlfriend was here a long time tonight. I had to almost throw her out.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. It was her that did this to me.”

“Ahh. I understand. She’s trying to say sorry. That’s nice.”

“It was an accident pure and simple. She doesn’t need to say sorry anymore.”

“I expect she feels guilty about the whole thing.”

“Perhaps she does.”

“She has done that many times over. Any chance I can get out of here early tomorrow morning?”

The nurse looked at him and then burst out laughing.
“I take it she is going to come back then?”

“Yes. And she lives only a few miles from me. I really don’t want her fussing over me. Saying sorry was fine but… She strikes me as someone who fusses over people and could be a bit clingy.”

Pierre stopped and laughed.
“What’s so funny?”

“Me saying ‘fusses’. My family may well be correct in thinking that I’ve gone native.”

The Nurse smiled.

“It may not be possible but I’ll try to find out. Is there anyone who can take you home?”

“Can’t I take a Taxi?”

“You are going to need some crutches. I’d suggest a private hire vehicle. It will work out cheaper than a black cab.”

“I don’t care about the cost. I just want to get home as soon as possible.”

Pierre gave her a really nice smile.

The nurse returned his smile.
“Perhaps there is something I could do to help.”

She looked at her watch.

“As I said, it’s almost time for my break. Let me get something for you to eat and then I’ll see what I can do to help you get out of here”

“Thanks Nurse,” said Pierre as she turned away from him.
She turned back and smiled again.
“It’s Barbara.”

“Thank you, Nurse Barbara,” said a smiling Pierre.

---

Barbara wheeled Pierre out of the hospital just after 06:30.

“Stay here while I get my car.”

“I’m not going far in this,” replied Pierre indicating that the wheelchair he was sitting in was one that had to be pushed.

She returned a few minutes later. She was driving a small hatchback that looked pretty new.
“Can you hop to the door?” she asked.

“I think so.”

She opened the door and then held the chair steady while he stood up and hopped the one step to the car. Once he had grabbed the door, he swivelled around and eased himself into the car with a huge sigh.

Barbara help him put his legs inside and then closed the door.
After returning the chair to the porters, she stowed the crutches that the Hospital had supplied in the back of the car. Then, she got in herself.

“All set?” she asked as she fastened her seatbelt.

“Yes. I think so.”

“Let’s go.”

She drove them out of the hospital and into the fairly light early morning traffic. They were also going against most of the traffic that was heading into the city at that hour.

“It is really good of you to do this,” said Pierre as the navigated one of the many sets of traffic lights at Vauxhall Cross.

She laughed.

“I don’t do this for all my patients but I sort of took pity on you. You are different to most of the patients I get to deal with.”

“Thanks again.”

“It’s a good job that I don’t have to work tonight otherwise I’d be heading home to bed.”

“Do you live far from the hospital?”

“Banstead. That’s why I drive to work. Public transport is very iffy at the times I travel to and from work. The hospital managers are pretty good about me parking on site. Not everyone wants to work the eight to six shift.”

“I’m not sure where Banstead is” feigning his ignorance of the Geography of Surrey.

She chuckled.

“South of Sutton and on the edge of London”

“Couldn’t you move a bit closer to work?”

“I could but I’m an agency nurse. I’m only at St Thomas’s for another week. Then… I don’t know. Before this, I was at a hospital in Brighton”

As the car made its way along the A3 past the former Youngs Brewery in Wandsworth, Barbara said.

“You are very trusting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, here you are. Sitting in my car, trusting me to take you home.”

“What other choice do I have? A bit of Hobson’s choice really.”

“You could have let, what’s her name.”

“Amanda.”

“Yes Mandy. I remember now. You could have let her take you home. From what I saw, she rather fancied you.”

“That is the trouble.”

“Oh, are you gay then?”

“No. It’s not that.”

“Don’t you like women?” asked Barbara sounding a bit disappointed.

“No. I like women.”

“Then why didn’t you want her to take you home? After all, she was still trying to say sorry for getting you in this mess in the first place.”

Pierre didn’t say anything for almost a minute.

“It’s a little embarrassing.”

“What do you mean?”

“From my little experience of Nurses from Yesterday and now today, I’ve found them to be very understanding.”

“We have probably seen everything and we are born more than likely with naturally thick skins,” joked Barbara.

“Exactly.”

“So? Why didn’t you want her to take you home?”

Again, Pierre was silent for a while.

“Don’t you understand, I like dressing up as a Woman? In fact, I do it every day.”

“Oh that.” She said with a dismissive gesture.

“I’ve seen it many times. I’ve lost count of the number of Trannies I’ve seen who have fallen off their high heels.”

“So now do you understand?”

“I suppose so. You felt a bit safer with a nurse.”

“Yes.”

“I guess you haven’t heard about some of the antics that nurses get up to then?”

“Aren’t you a little past that,” said Pierre and immediately regretted it
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that…”

Barbara laughed.

“I know what you meant. Don’t worry.”

“What will I see when we get you your home?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have a bedroom decorated in Pink?”

“No, I don’t” said Pierre sternly.

“So?”

“Well, you’ll probably find that I have more pairs of high heels than male shoes.”

“What is it with you men and high heels?”

“I like wearing them and I like seeing women wearing them. That’s all.”

“What else?” said Barbara changing the subject.

“I have a wardrobe full of clothes, male clothes and two more full of women’s.”

“Do you go out… you know as a woman?”

“Yes. Almost every week but only to ‘safe’ places.”

“A bit shy eh?”

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

“You know that you’ll have to give up the heels until you get your foot better again?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Disappointed?”

“Yes. But it is going to be an inconvenience and I may have to let down some others,” replied Pierre wondering where this was going.

“I could wear them for you? If you don’t mind that is?”

Pierre leaned forward and held his face in his hands.

Barbara saw this and tapped his shoulder with her left hand.

“I’m sorry. That was not called for.”

Pierre sat upright again. His eyes were red.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I have never met any women before who might begin to understand what it might be like to be someone like me. Then in two days, I meet two who do.”

“Do you mean Amanda and me?”

“No. It was the Nurse who looked after me in Casualty. I think her name was Cheryl. Anyway, you and her.”

Barbara smiled.

“I’m have to admit that I have never really met anyone like you outside the confines of the Hospital.”

Pierre looked at her.

“Why don’t we start again?”

She smiled back.
“Barbara. Hello. I’m Pierre. I like to dress as a woman. When I do, I call myself Brigitte de Valois.”

“Hello Pierre. I look forward to meeting Brigitte at some point.”

Pierre directed Barbara through the city of Guildford and to his house that was not far from the 1960’s Cathedral on the hill to the west of the city centre.

“Here we are. No 56.”
“Can I park here?” asked Barbara
“There are signs saying parking is for residents only.”

“That’s ok, I have a visitor’s permit in the house. If you stick that in the windscreen, you won’t get ticketed. I’m afraid I don’t have a car. I really don’t need it. I can walk to the Railway Station in ten minutes.”
“Well, I could before yesterday,” he added with a sigh.

Then Pierre realised that he had in effect invited Barbara into his house without even being asked to.

Barbara helped Pierre up the three steps to the front door of Pierre’s home and then held onto him while he opened the front door.

Then like a couple in a three-legged race they walked inside. Together they entered the kitchen. Pierre breathed a sigh of relief that he had tidied up before he had left for work the previous day.

“This Ok?” asked Barbara as soon as Pierre was settled in a chair.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to fuss so much”.

Barbara laughed.
“That what good patient care is all about…”

“Tea?”

Pierre didn’t answer.

Barbara put the kettle on and then looked in the fridge and various cupboards in the kitchen.

“Well, for a Frenchman, you don’t seem to have much in the way of food here. Not even a bit of ripe ‘brie’. You should be ashamed of yourself,” she complained.

“I’m not a great cook I’m afraid. Wine is more my thing.”

“That is fairly obvious. You are going to need some supplies given that you are going to be stuck here for a while.

“That is true.

“Where is the nearest Supermarket?”

“There is a Tesco’s the other side of the A3. About a mile away. Go past the Cathedral and under the main road and you will be there.”

“Ok. I’ll get us both some tea and then I’ll head to the shops.”

Pierre didn’t know what to say. It had been a long time since anyone other than himself had made these sorts of decisions. He wondered if he could get used to it.

While they drank tea, Barbara made a list of shopping. It was an impressive list of items.
“Here, you should take some money,” said Pierre reaching for his wallet.

“Nonsense.”

“I insist. I can’t ask you to give up your day and spend a whole load of money on me just like that.”

She smiled at Pierre.

“Who else is going to do it then?” said a smiling Barbara.

Pierre looked at her and said

“But why? Why do you want to do this?”

“Because…”

“That’s no answer…”

“It is all the answer you are going to get at the moment.”

Without letting Pierre get another word in, she picked up the list, her handbag and his keys and left him alone wondering what the hell happened just then and what had happened to his life since he left for work the previous day.

He was still sitting there more than half an hour later when his mobile chirped.

He picked it up and answered it.

“Bonjour.”

“Oh, hello Tracy.”

“Yes, I’m back at home. My foot is in plaster and it look like I’m not going to be able to come into work for at least three weeks. Commuting on Crutches is not exactly easy now is it?”

“Yes Tracy. You don’t need to remind me that we have the ‘Beaujolais Nouveau run’ next week. It looks like I will have to leave everything in your capable hands but I’ll be on the end of the phone and emails if needed.”

“I should be able to do that. I’ll catch up with my emails later. I was expecting one from Chile about the order we placed last week.”

“No. It is not necessary but it is nice of you to offer.”

“Yes, I do have some help from an unexpected source. Well at least for the moment but it will get me over the worst.”

“I’ll I promise I will get online once I get myself sorted out here a little bit more.”

“Ok. Thanks for calling Tracy”

Pierre hung up the phone.

He paused for a moment and then selected a number from his contacts list and pressed dial.
The call went straight through to voicemail so he left a message.
“Bonjour Mama. C'est Pierre. J'ai eu un accident à Londres. J'ai cassé un os en mon pied. Pouvez vous m'appeler quand vous arrivez à la maison. Au revior.”

He hung up slightly annoyed that his mother was not at home. He looked at the clock and realised that she would probably be at the market in the Village. He had momentarily forgotten about the 1hr time difference between the UK and France.

Barbara returned laden with shopping almost an hour later.

---

“You seem to have bought the store?” he remarked when she had retrieved the last of the bags from her car and dumped them on the table in the kitchen.

“Almost but not quite. I had to leave morsel of two for other shoppers,” she joked.

“As I said before, you should not have spent all this money on me like this.”

“Nonsense Pierre,” she said looking him in the eye.

“You can take me out to dinner somewhere posh when you are a bit more mobile as recompense?”

He smiled.
“Ok.”

Then he added.
“Aren’t you feeling tired? After all, you worked all night. Shouldn’t you get some sleep?”

“Later. Later. I should get this put away first. Then we will have some lunch. Then I may take a nap.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you are staying around for a bit”?

Barbara who was putting some groceries in the Fridge stopped and looked at him.

“Is this going to be a problem?”
“Yes and No. If you will help me with a few things in the next few days then no, it won’t be a problem.”

“What sort if things?”

“Why don’t we discuss that over lunch. I’m famished. The last thing I ate were the two chocolate bars you gave me last night.”

Barbara set to and whipped up a superb Mushroom Omelette for them both.

While she was doing that, Pierre hobbled off into the Dining room on his Crutches and soon returned with a bottle of Red wine in his trouser pocket.

“Here, I think this will go down nicely with the Omelette,” said Pierre as he put the bottle on the kitchen table.

Barbara picked it up and examined the label.
“This is certainly not a Supermarket special.”

They both laughed.

“Call it home brew if you like,” joked Pierre.

“What do you mean?”

“It is from the Vineyard owned by my Family. We produce over one hundred thousand bottles a year.”

“Plonk?”

Pierre looked at her with a stern face.

“Madame. We most certainly do not produce ‘Plonk’ as you call it in Bordeaux. We produce some of the greatest wines in the world.”

Barbara grinned at him.
“I was joking.”

“Wine is not a joke to me. It is my life.”

“What do you mean?”
“I own and run a wine importing business. We supply the many of the best Restaurants and Hotels in London and the south of England.”

“Ok. I’m sorry. I’m sure it will be fine.”

“You English. Most of you really know nothing about wine. Did you not know that there is an excellent Vineyard less than five kilometres from where we are right now?”

“Well then Pierre, you will have to educate me then. I look forward from learning from a master.”

She picked up a Corkscrew and opened the bottle.

“Which glasses should I use?”
Pierre smiled.
“For Lunchtime, anything will do. This is not even a Premier Grand Cru wine but it should be enjoyable.”

She poured some wine into two glasses and dished up the Omelette and a small side salad.

She sat down and picked up her glass.
“Cheers,” she said happily.

Pierre reciprocated and they both drank a little of the wine.

“That is nice and smooth. Not like some of the red wines I normally get to drink.”

“This food is excellent. You are a magnificent cook,” said Pierre as he ate his first mouthful of the omlette.

As Pierre ate his lunch he reflected to himself about the events of the past day and how long it was since he had someone in his house sharing a meal.

Barbara cleared away and then said,
“I don’t suppose you have a spare bed I could use for a few hours?”

Pierre smiled.

“Of course, I do. The room on the left at the top of the stairs, is the second bedroom. There is linen in the wooden chest of drawers by the side of the bed. There are also towels so you can take a shower if you want.”

“Do you have a problem with me being here sort of uninvited?” asked Barbara changing tack.

“Uninvited? I asked you to bring me home. I didn’t think about anything beyond that when I asked you so you still being here is an unexpected bonus and for that I thank you Mademoiselle.”

Barbara blushed at the comment.

She headed upstairs to get some sleep.

Pierre looked at her as she disappeared from the kitchen.

Then he smiled as he remembered a very English joke.

“You wait ages for a bus and suddenly two come along at once.”

When he had first heard the saying he didn’t fully understand it. Now he did.

He did wonder what Mandy was doing at that moment. He guessed that she would be disappointed to find him gone from the hospital. For a moment, he wondered if he would see her again.

Pierre sat back and contemplated his situation. He felt strangely attracted to both Barbara and Mandy even though he had met both in slightly inopportune circumstances. Before he knew it, he too had fallen asleep at the table.

---

Barbara slept well for nearly 5 hours before her internal clock woke her up. She felt refreshed after a shower ready to face the world again. As she dressed, her curiosity got the better of her and she went in search of the feminine side of Pierre.

The range of creams and lotions in the Bathroom put her somewhat spartan collection of beauty aids to shame. None of those in front of her were cheap chain-store items either.

With her appetite whetted Barbara went into Pierre’s bedroom. She hoped that none of the floorboards would creak and reveal her investigation.

She was very impressed by the décor. It was Feminine but not overly girly. No pink but plenty of flowers and other stuff that gave her the impression that indeed a woman slept here.

The three wardrobes that stood next to each other proved too tempting for her to ignore. Barbara opened the first and was disappointed to find only male clothes. The second one however did not do the same. It was crammed with female clothes. There were lots of evening dresses and matching accessories. On the floor and the rack on the back of the door were more pairs of shoes than she had ever owned in her life let alone at the same time. There were many different styles and heel heights. None of them were cheap fast fashion makes. She then spotted a few very expensive Christian Louboutin pairs that were readily identifiable by their red soles.

Barbara sighed and thought, ‘One of these days…’. She’d started to become very envious of Pierre’s collection of beautiful shoes and clothes.
This only got worse when she pulled out a couple of the dresses. When she saw the designer labels she felt even more envious. Barbara was more of a ‘pants’ and ‘jeans’ type of person. They were totally missing from the selection of great clothes that were hanging there in front of her.

Her investigations came to an end when she heard Pierre using the downstairs toilet. She hurriedly closed the doors and made a somewhat hasty exit from the bedroom.

Once she had dressed she went downstairs to find Pierre sitting in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil.

“I thought I heard you up and about”, he commented.

“Yes. I must be off to work soon.”

“Do you want something to eat?”
She looked at the clock and shook her head.

“I’ll get something at the hospital. Despite what everyone says, the food at the Hospital is not all that bad.”

They both laughed.

Pierre poured each of them a cup of tea.

As they drank it, an eerie silence descended over the kitchen.

“Are you giving me the ‘old goodbye, don’t call me, I’ll call you’?” asked Barbara.

Pierre lowered his eyes.

“I thought so,” she remarked.

He looked up and said.

“No. It’s not like that.”

“Just what is it like?”

“You are the first woman who has been here and well… knows about me and who I am. I sort of feel a bit vulnerable.”

Barbara laughed.

“Don’t worry Pierre. Your secret is safe with me.”

They both smiled.

Then she did something that he didn’t expect.

She took hold of his hand and said

“I still want to meet her you know? Brigitte that is.”

Pierre didn’t say anything at first.

“Why do you want to do that?” he whispered.

Barbara looked him in the eyes and replied.

“You are the first man I have met in a long time who didn’t want to do anything but have a one-night fling if you know what I mean.”

Pierre managed a small smile.

“You have not even ‘come on’ to me in the classic sense. I have to admit that I have never had a lesbian relationship but I think it might be nice to have a girlfriend. Besides, I want to see you in that lovely Red St Laurent dress you have hanging in your wardrobe.”

“Eh?”

“I’m sorry. I got very curious and I invaded your bedroom and looked at your clothes and shoes. I must say, I’m very envious at some of what you have hanging up upstairs.”

Pierre smiled.

“You are more than welcome to wear some of it yourself if you want to? That dress however needs the proper underwear.”
Barbara was a bit puzzled as Pierre reached for the taped up plastic bag that she’d brought in from her car and put on the kitchen worktop.

As he unwrapped it, Pierre said,
“Like this perhaps?”

Barbara cooed as she looked at the beautiful corset.

“Actually, today is the first day in over eight years that I have not worn one. I feel rather naked without one on me.”

Barbara laughed.

“I’d need a lot more than something like that to fit into most of your clothes. I’m probably one or more likely two sizes bigger than you I’m afraid. I guess that is a result of grabbing the wrong thing to eat when I’m in a rush.”

She was right thought Pierre. Although not ‘fat’ Barbara could do with losing some weight but she was all there in the right places.

“Perhaps that could be a target for you?” suggested Pierre.

Barbara looked much happier.

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes. Why not? With a better diet and a goal it is surprising what you can achieve if you put your mind to it,” said Pierre grinning.

Suddenly Barbara knew that she would be returning and felt… rather happy.

Pierre felt both sad and relieved when Barbara drove off to work in her car. After 10 years of living alone it was going to take some time to get used to another person in his life but he was sad that she would not be back for a couple of days. He sighed as he admitted to himself that he’d been on his own for far too long.

Perhaps the step too far that he’d taken the previous morning would turn out to be a step in the right direction after all.

The joy on his face when Barbara returned the next morning told her that life was going to get interesting again especially as she’d found out that she was in line for a new permanent job at the Surrey County Hospital which was less than a mile away from where Pierre lived.

[the end]