As the rain continues Dennis finds that his options have become less and less. Time for a left-field solution, one which leaves him wondering if he is doing the right thing.

Scratch!

an amusement by Penny Lane

2 of 3 - Bank Holiday Monday

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2022 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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"Aaargh!"

Dennis had woken up drenched with sweat and scratching at places he had never scratched before. Something had changed overnight and for the worse. Blearily he unzipped his sleeping-bag and staggered to his feet. The tiny high-level window to his small boxroom suggested that it was early morning - and still raining.

He made his way to the bathroom and took care of the most immediate requirements. Once his hands were clean he took off his pyjama top and looked down at his body.

"Oh, no," he moaned. "At this rate I'll have used up all the ointment and end up looking like something from the Mummy's tomb. Mum's not going to like this."

He put his top back on and headed out onto the landing.

There was a call. "Dennis? Is that you? What's happened?"

He pushed open the door of the guest bedroom and entered the darkened room. His mother was sitting up in the double bed she was sharing with his sister Jennifer. Gayle switched on her bedside light.

"What is it? More rash?"

"I think so, Mum. A ring right around my chest, where the bottom of that crop top was."

"Oh. You sure it is a rash and not just where the crop top was too tight at the bottom?"

"Well I never thought it was too tight, Mum. It felt comfortable all day. Look!"

He pulled up his pyjama top and the faint red mark was clearly visible, even in the reduced light.

"Oh. There must have been something in it to cause that," she said. "I wonder... Can you go and fetch it in, please?"

"Of course."

Dennis left and fetched the crop top from his room. On the landing he met Phil on his way to the bathroom.

"You're up early, er, Dennis? Who exactly are you this morning?"

Dennis pointed to his chest. "If I have bumps up here, Uncle Phil, then I'd be Denise. Otherwise I'm Dennis."

Phil nodded. "Makes sense. What are you doing up so early?"

"More scratching, Uncle Phil. Looks like this thing," he held up the crop top, "isn't as good as we thought it might be. Mum's trying to find out why."

"Oh. I'll let you get on, then. See you at breakfast."

By the time he returned to the guest bedroom with the crop top Jennifer was sitting up and yawning.

"Sorry to wake you, Sis, but scratching don't wait for anyone."

"'Sall right, Den. It isn't long before we have to get up anyway."

Gayle took the top and turned to examine it under the bedside light, looking for a label but not finding one.

"That's no help," she said. "Can you turn on the main light, please, Dennis. Sorry, Jennifer, I want to look properly at his chest."

With the main light on Gayle made Dennis remove his pyjama top, after which she examined his upper body all round.

"That's strange. I would have thought you'd have marks all over where the top had been but there's only that line around your chest."

She had another look at the top. "Oh, yes, look here," she said. "It looks like it has something in the rib at the bottom to keep it in place. But without a label we won't know what it is."

"Oh. So I won't be able to use it today to hold padding, then?"

Gayle smiled. "You seem somewhat anxious to continue your time as Denise, don't you? Are you sure you're not enjoying this too much? Have we let loose a monster?"

"Hardly, Mum. We'll go home and this will just be a holiday memory. I don't have plans to be anyone but Dennis once we're back in Shoreham."

"Hmm. Like Sylvia said yesterday, don't make promises you can't keep! Very well, it looks like you'll be eating breakfast in your pyjamas, which, seeing as it is a bank holiday, is perfectly acceptable. Once we've all eaten then we can work out what to do next."

"Yes, Mum. But the itching? I think I'll need the ointment before breakfast."

She contemplated the options. "I can do your arms, of course, but what about that line? And your legs? If I do those you'll just be in your underpants-which-aren't-really-underpants."

"Good point, Mum. Uh, just do my arms, then. I'll just have to put up with the rest until after breakfast. I'll go and get the ointment and the gloves."

* * *

As they assembled for breakfast Gayle asked Phil, "They giving you the day off, then?"

He snorted. "I shouldn't be working on a bank holiday but nobody told the weather that. Officially I'm off but I'm also officially on call. If the weather worsens, well..." He shook his head. "I'll have to go."

Sylvia came in with a pile of toast. "It doesn't look as bad outside as it did yesterday."

"No, but the ground's completely saturated now, whatever comes down today has nowhere to go. You'll notice that it hasn't, actually, stopped raining, just slackened off somewhat."

"I had, Phil, and it's a nuisance. I have whole machine-loads of stuff that need drying and if it stays like this much longer it will all go mouldy."

"That washing machine mechanic couldn't get to us until Thursday, you know that."

"Let's not argue, Philip. We're all running out of clothes and Dennis is being hit the hardest."

"I thought he was looting the girls' wardrobes."

"It may come to that. Unfortunately, he's the wrong size to all three girls so we're very limited in what we can offer him."

"Well, he looked fine to me as a girl so if that's what it takes, use whatever you can. Nobody's going to see him, not in this weather."

Dennis had to wear a proper cook's apron with a bib for breakfast and he was informed that he would be wearing it every time he had to eat with the gloves on. Needless to say, he did not drop anything at all on it.

After breakfast Phil had the inevitable call. "Got to go, honey. They want to open the sluices at Harrowby, remember I told you last night? And they need me there."

"Any idea how long?"

He shrugged. "You know how this works, Syl. I'll try to get back for this evening's dinner."

After he departed the others gathered in the living room.

"Okay," Sylvia asked, "What do we do about Dennis today?"

"Better check the jeans first, Syl."

"Of course." She waved a finger at the teenagers. "You lot stay here for a moment or two while we sort through the washing to see if there's anything dry enough."

In the small utility room Gayle fingered Dennis's jeans. "The bottoms of the legs are dry but the body part of this one is still damp and the waistband hasn't dried at all, being so thick."

Sylvia held another pair. "Same here. It's a shame, really, but when things go wrong they certainly let you know about it."

"Yep. I had a feeling this would happen and I've been trying to think of a solution and getting exactly nowhere."

"Our mother used to put things in the oven to dry."

"Yes - and we couldn't get the taste of damp cloth out of our meals for days afterwards! Just no, Syl."

"Perhaps you're right. Oh, here's that midi skirt - it's still damp. If I had known what today was going to be like I might have thought twice about washing it."

"It needed doing, Syl. Never mind. Let's go and tell the kids the good news."

"...So you see we can't use anything that has been washed in the last few days. Dennis needs clothes and it looks like they have to be of cotton. Can anyone think of anything else he might wear?"

There were blanks looks all round. "Fat lot of help you all are - that's not fair on Dennis." Sylvia added, "you did well enough yesterday. I wonder... we still have some material around, I could get out the sewing machine. Dennis would have to stay as he is until perhaps lunchtime, I might be able to run up something for him by then."

Gayle asked, "Material, Syl? Are you sure you have any that is all cotton?"

Sylvia's face fell. "Well, thinking about it, probably not. Most of the things I've made recently have been cotton-polyester or artificial fabrics. I know! There are some old cotton sheets in the airing cupboard, I could make him something out of one of those. It would do, surely?"

"I'm not so sure, Syl. Cotton sheeting isn't that thick, after all. You could make him an under layer of some sort, just to keep other materials away from his skin."

"But then I'd have to find a pattern with sleeves and legs, Sis. I probably have some but they are likely to be of smaller sizes, I haven't done anything like that since..." She tailed off, trying to remember.

Carrie spoke up. "Mums, you don't have to do any of that, we already have such a garment and it will almost certainly fit Dennis."

"Really? What?"

Carrie pointed. "The costume those gloves came from, Mums. Don't you remember, there is a chemise that went under the gowns and the whole lot is pure cotton."

"Well, yes, you're right, but doesn't that just move the problem on? As I recall that chemise is full length and it is still just a thin layer of cotton. What could he put over it?"

Carrie hesitated and then said, "I'm almost afraid to suggest this, Mums, but Dennis really hasn't got anything at all to wear, has he? If he's wearing the gloves from the costume and he puts on the chemise from the costume, then maybe he ought to be wearing the rest of it. That would certainly keep him warm."

Sylvia's eyebrows shot up. "You're suggesting that we dress Dennis in a Regency gown? That he would wear all day?"

Carrie just shrugged. "I can't think of anything else, Mums."

Sylvia stared at her daughter in disbelief. "I am amazed at your suggestion, Carrie. There wouldn't happen to be anything behind it, perhaps after yesterday's fun?"

"Mums, no! I can't wear that costume any more because it's too small now and nobody has suggested anything else Dennis could wear. I'm just saying that the costume does fit the requirements, physically at least. Whether he'd want to wear that I don't know."

Dennis licked his suddenly-dry lips. "What are we talking about, here?"

"It is a proper Regency gown, Dennis," Sylvia explained. "Or at least a modern reproduction of one. When Carrie's school decided on Pride and Prejudice for their end-of-year play I volunteered to make some of the costumes including, of course, hers. Since I didn't know exactly what was going to be needed I made a complete set of all the possible parts needed for her. Oh! I know, I'll show you the patterns."

She got up and left, going into the dining room and returning with a large, thick white envelope in each hand.

"Look! These are the possible dress options and those are the underpinnings that go with them. I made Carrie that one," she pointed, "not the cross-over style one, in two versions, a short sleeved version for the ballroom scene and a long-sleeved one for the rest of the play. I remember now, there were absolutely yards of material to handle, but it was fairly easy to make each one."

Dennis took the envelopes and looked at the illustrations on the front. "These are just ordinary dresses of that day, then? Not fancy shiny stuff?"

"Shiny stuff? Oh, you mean satin and silk? No, nothing like that, Dennis. This is what the daughters of an impoverished gentleman would wear but not what, say, upper-class ladies would wear nor what farmworker's wives would wear. It's all made of pure cotton and I remember Carrie said it kept her quite warm when she wasn't on stage."

"Of course," Carrie added, "when I was on stage it was more than warm! But on stage you'd be warm whatever you wore."

Dennis nodded. "Been there, done that, Carrie. Mum? What do you think?"

"Mmm. I remember Carrie wearing the gowns now, I don't think you were that interested in the photos three years ago. You talked about experiments yesterday, well, this would certainly be a different one! Dennis, I have no objection if you wanted to have a go but nobody is forcing you. Girls like trying on all kinds of different things but I know that boys don't do things that way. It is up to you."

He thought for a while. "I suppose. It isn't as if I have a lot of choice, is it? I was a girl for part of yesterday so it isn't so big a leap from that to this. Can we go and see the actual gowns, Aunt Sylvia?"

"Of course, Dennis! Carrie?"

"Yes, Mums. Follow me, folks."

"Just a moment!" Gayle called as the others stood up. "Whatever Dennis is going to be trying on, he needs to be clean. When did you shower last, Dennis?"

"Uh, Saturday morning, Mum, before we went out, if you remember. I haven't done it since because I've either needed to put ointment on or it was before bed when I didn't want to wash it off and start the whole cycle going again."

Gayle nodded. "I know, Dennis. It is awkward for you having to have your skin plastered with gunk all the time. But if you're going to be wearing other people's clothes I think you could go and make yourself clean first, even if we have to lard you up again afterwards."

Dennis grimaced but the logic was solid. "Okay, Mum, I'll go and do that now. Meet you in the girls' bedroom?"

"Yes, please. That will give us time to find what we need and see if it will be suitable. Oh. Come here first, I'll need to pull those gloves off."

When Dennis reached Carrie and Andrea's bedroom he found both mothers and Carrie there. Hanging on the front of the wardrobes were four garment bags. They were opaque so he couldn't see the contents but the array looked impressive.

"I still can't believe that you made all those, Syl," Gayle remarked. "It looks like a lot of work!"

"Well, it was, but we had long summer evenings and the different items weren't that complicated. Look, I'll get the gown out first, then Dennis can see what we're talking about."

Sylvia unzipped a long bag and pulled out a pale pink gown. The material was plain but there was a red ribbon sewn under the bustline. It had a wide neck and short puffy sleeves which were also edged in red. The skirt fell from the red ribbon all the way to the floor.

"I like it," Gayle said. "If I had any use for such a thing I'd ask you to make one in my size, Syl. As it is I'll just have to dream. What do you think, Dennis?"

He shrugged. "It's a dress. It looks like it would keep me warm enough - except around the neck area."

Sylvia was firm. "It's a gown, Dennis, not a dress." She frowned. "Though I'm not entirely sure what the difference is. Carrie, there's supposed to be a little thing that fills in the neck, isn't there? Which bag is that in?"

"It's called a chemisette, Mums, and it's over here."

It was made of white cotton and looked as if it had been cut out of the top part of a shirt, although the material was much finer. There was a soft collar and cloth ties to keep it closed.

Carrie held it up. "It goes around your neck and keeps the draughts off. Mums thought I might need it but it was warm enough that I didn't. Mums, I think he'd have to put the dress on first and then tuck this in afterwards."

"If he needs it. Dennis?"

"You talked about an underlayer, if I remember rightly."

"Oh, yes. Carrie, if you wouldn't mind."

The underlayer was called a chemise, made of finer cotton and was floor-length but had little structure at all. With it Carrie brought out a much smaller item.

Gayle asked, "What's that? A Regency bra?"

"Practically," Sylvia answered. "They didn't have bras then so this is a set of short stays, but the purpose is just the same. It is worn over the chemise and under the gown to give the right lift - but of course Dennis hasn't got anything to lift." She considered. "He can't use the crop top again and tights aren't going to cut it, Sis, not in this style. While you're preparing your sacrificial victim I'll go downstairs and see if I can rustle up something more appropriate."

Gayle raised an eyebrow. "Sacrificial victim?"

"The ointment, Sis. Look, he's already rubbing his arms again. I didn't mean that we were going to chain him to a rock or introduce him to a Minotaur or something."

"Gee, thanks, Aunt Sylvia!"

"My pleasure, Dennis. If we couldn't laugh about all this we'd be in a sorry state - and you'd be in a worse state."

"I know it, Aunt Sylvia."

Gayle asked, "What else are we going to need, Syl, before we begin this?"

Sylvia studied the garments which various people were holding and shook her head. "I think that's it, though we'll need to change Dennis's footwear. The tread on those trainers will rip the hems to shreds in no time."

"I might have something, Mums," offered Carrie, "though it wouldn't be Regency."

Sylvia flipped a hand. "They'll spend a lot of time hidden under the hem so I don't think that's important, Carrie. He's not doing a play. Let's see what you've got."

Carrie had a lot of shoes and, as a growing girl, they were in a range of sizes, which was fortunate. Heels were obviously out, though Sylvia did say, "If the hem is too long he might need a little something." They finally settled on an old pair of ballet flats, which as it happened were in a shade that just about toned with the gown.

"Right, then. Carrie, you and I had better leave now so that Gayle can attend to Dennis. You can join the others or help me find something to give that gown the appropriate shape."

"Yes, Mums."

The two left and closed the bedroom door. Mother looked at son.

"This is a big leap, Dennis. Are you sure this isn't going to upset you or cause you problems?"

"It's not something I would normally do in a million years, Mum, but after yesterday I'm a bit more open minded about what I might have to wear. Still, this is further than I would normally want to go - I did think I might have ended up with one of those summer dresses that Carrie mentioned."

"Hmm. I don't really think that it's warm enough for a summer dress, Dennis, although she might have one of those long tiered ones with the puffy sleeves." She shook her head. "No, that wouldn't work anyway, that style is new enough that any she has would be too big for you. Besides, we'd be gambling with the fabric again."

"Oh, you're right, Mum."

She gave him a hopeful look. "Now, after what you did yesterday, I'm really interested to see what you can make of this gown. If it doesn't work then you can take it off straight away and we'll say no more. Will you do it for me?"

"Of course, Mum."

"Aaaand, once we've tried it out and you're happy, then you'll have to take it all off again so we can cover you with ointment."

"Oh, yes, of course."

Gayle smiled at her son. "This is the life females lead, Dennis. We're forever putting things on and taking them off again, sometimes it can be hard to get everything right the first time."

"Yeah. I found that out yesterday with the make-up."

"Right, then. I guess the chemise comes first."

He stuck out his arms and Gayle threaded the volumes of fabric over them, then over his head. Once settled on his shoulders the rest fell towards his feet. Gayle leaned over to see how far down the hem was, rising with satisfaction.

"Good, It looks like the outfit will be neither too long nor too short." She grinned at him. "That means you won't have to wear heels or have your legs trimmed."

"Very funny, Mum. You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Of course I am! For a brief while I can treat you like my daughter and do things I won't be able to do with Jennifer for several years yet. And no, I haven't gone crazy, I haven't forgotten the reason we're doing this, it's just that it is turning out to be a little more enjoyable than I thought it would be."

"I suppose." Dennis looked down at the billowing expanse of white. "What comes next, Mum?"

"The short stays, I guess. They are like a front-fastening bra but without modern fixings. You put it on like a waistcoat and then I'll have to thread the laces for you."

Dennis put his arms down and behind so that Gayle could pull up the short stays. As he held the front parts together while she settled the shoulder straps he remarked, "I could lace this up by myself, Mum."

She snorted, walking around to his front. "You can now but only because you're a boy, Dennis. Any female who needed the use of these wouldn't have been able to see any of that part." He blushed as she continued, "That's why your sisters, a maid or your mother would have to do it. Females always help each other dressing and undressing, we have to because some of the clothes are just plain awkward by ourselves."

"Then why didn't women find simpler things to wear?" he asked.

"In the main, we did," his mother replied, "though it took hundreds of years of trying! But we wear a lot more different kinds of things than men do and some of them still involve a bit of a wrestle or just plain help." She gave him a small smile. "It's a girl thing and besides, it's part of the fun of dressing up."

"If you say so, Mum."

The short stays were laced and tightened and Gayle pronounced them to be exactly the right size for Dennis, despite the two obvious omissions. The next step was the gown itself, which went on the same way as the chemise had.

"This feels enormous!"

Gayle eyed the result critically. "You're right, Dennis, and I have no idea what to do next. Time to call in the cavalry."

She opened the door and went onto the landing, calling downstairs. Carrie hurried up.

"What's your mother doing, Carrie? I need some help with this, it looks wrong."

"Can I see? Is he decent?"

"Of course. We got everything on but there's no shape to it."

"Oh, of course. If you'll let me, I'll show you how it goes."

Carrie followed Gayle back into the bedroom. "Mums said this pattern is designed for a wide range of sizes... and conditions, like pregnancy or time-of-the-month." She giggled. "At least Dennis doesn't have to worry about either of those! Here, look, there are drawstrings either side -"

There was a bit of pushing and tugging and Dennis partially zoned out. He was getting used to the strange feel of the gown and was surprised that it felt so comfortable. The two layers trapped the heat and there was very little touching most parts of his body.

"Oh, and then there's the neckline," Carrie added. "This has a drawstring too, you just -"

A new voice came from the doorway. "You could have waited two minutes more, Carrie. I had just about finished."

"Sorry, Mums."

Sylvia came in with a small lump wrapped in blue plastic in each hand. She gave one to Gayle.

"I remembered, I found an old jar of risotto rice in the back of the cupboard a while back. I was going to throw it out for the birds but forgot. It's just the right thing for this job, though."

"What have you done with it? What's this?"

"Freezer bags. I tied a knot in the lower corner of each one and then turned them inside out. I measured the same amount of rice into each and then knotted the bag."

"Oh, I see, so the bag is inside out. Here, Dennis. Let me put these inside for you."

Gayle opened the drawstring neckline and placed the bags inside, gently shaping them before tightening the drawstring and tying a bow. This was also tucked inside, giving a smooth appearance.

"It all fits him beautifully," Sylvia remarked. "Even the length is right. What do you think, Dennis?"

"They're heavy."

"Huh! You didn't think we all walked around with tights inside our bras, did you? Breasts are real flesh, kiddo, and most weigh a lot more than your pair. Imagine carrying those around on your chest for the rest of your life."

"Even so," his mother added, "almost all women would do anything to have a decent pair, it's what women want to validate themselves as a woman. But we have little control over what we get and we just have to put up with the results."

"Uh, too much information, Mum?"

"You made the comment, we explained why they have weight. Besides, they make the front of the gown sit right now that they are in."

"Anything else?" Sylvia asked. "Shoes, Carrie?"

The shoes were fitted and he stood in front of the wardrobe mirror. A young Regency girl looked back.

"It's fine, Aunt Sylvia. Mum?"

"I'm almost afraid to say how pretty you look, Dennis. It's not what a boy wants to hear, is it?"

Carrie said, "Mums, Aunt Gayle, he still needs his hair doing and a very little bit of makeup."

"That's true and it will just make the illusion that much greater," Sylvia replied. "Right, Sis, so I suppose that you now have to take it all off again and smother him with ointment."

"We do, Syl. Ah, what about the chemise? I can't see how we can avoid getting at least some ointment on it."

"That's all right, Sis." Sylvia pointed at one of the other garment bags. "There should be another chemise in one of those. The stage production was over three days so I had to allow for cleaning and accidents. Dennis? Are you fine with doing this now you've seen what's involved? It's going to be a weird day for you."

He shrugged. "Yesterday was weird, Aunt Sylvia. Today Denise is just acting a part."

"That's the spirit, kiddo. Come on, Carrie, let's leave these two to sort themselves out."

* * *

Dennis followed his mother slowly down the stairs, his gloved hands holding up his skirts either side so that he did not trip on them. His hair had been brushed, combed and sprayed in a different style to yesterday, something that Carrie said looked "more Regency". He now had a fringe, but with the 'no-cutting' rule it looked ragged - or winsome, depending on your point of view. There was a certain amount of make-up on but very much less compared with the day before.

When he entered the living room Sylvia was waiting with her phone ready. Jennifer stood beside her, mouth open. Andrea was still seated the other side, but her expression was more reserved.

"Do you mind if I take some photos to remind us, Denise?"

"I'm not so sure, Aunt Sylvia. I mean, they could get around -"

Gayle said, "Syl, photos but only for yourself and your family to look at. You daren't put them on social media, Dennis would get so much stick he'd probably top himself."

"Are you sure, Sis? He doesn't look anything at all like Dennis now, does he?"

"It's connections, Syl. They'd be linked to you and, given the dates, people can add two and two and get two dozen very easily, you know that. And once that's happened there's no going back."

"I hadn't thought of that, Sis. Very well, Denise, I'll keep them on the phone and maybe get one or two prints to put in an album, that's all. Would you be happy with that?"

"Suppose so, Aunt Sylvia. Mum's right, if anyone at school found out I'd be a dead man."

Gayle was getting her own phone out of her bag. "I'll take some as well, Denise. The same applies, these will stay on my phone and go nowhere else." She tilted her head. "It's a shame that your hair isn't quite long enough. You haven't any wigs about the place, have you, Syl?"

The two started taking pictures while they talked, the flashes going off several times.

"No, Sis. Of course, Carrie had all her own hair to style then, same as she does now."

"But there is a bonnet, Mums!" Carrie remembered with excitement. "Shall I go and fetch it?"

Dennis's eyes widened with horror. "A bonnet! No, please, this is bad enough."

"It would set his face off properly," Sylvia said thoughtfully. "Regency girls would wear their hair up when they wore a bonnet, so the fact that he doesn't actually have long hair would be concealed. Denise? How about it? Just for the photos, perhaps?"

He sighed and his shoulders dropped. "All right, Aunt Sylvia, but only for the photos. I'd look silly wearing a bonnet around all day."

"Bonnets wouldn't be worn indoors normally," Sylvia explained. "Unless you were going somewhere special like church. Go and fetch it, Carrie."

"Could you turn a little, Denise? Perhaps a quarter. And link two of your fingers together. Oh, just like that! Hold still a moment. Now turn just your head to face us. That's great."

Carrie came down carrying a cardboard box. Opening it, she brought out the bonnet, which was wrapped in tissue paper and had crumpled newspaper inside to keep the shape. Once she had cleared all that she handed it to Gayle.

"Oh, I like that! It sets off the gown very well, doesn't it?"

Sylvia responded, "It's actually made to go with the other gown, Sis, but it will do fine for our pictures."

"Yes. Hold that a moment, Syl."

After passing over her phone she brought the bonnet to Dennis and arranged it on his head. He had a look at it before it disappeared out of sight. The basic shape was a U-shaped construction which went over his head and covered both ears. It was padded and the outside was covered with a fabric which he remembered was the same as that of the other gown, which he had only briefly seen. A wide purple-brown ribbon dangled from each side. At the front was a crescent shaped visor-like piece which, he supposed, was designed to frame his face. At the back was a soft bag-like arrangement. He put up a hand to feel it.

"That's where your hair would be, if you had any long enough," Sylvia told him. "My God! You do look sweet like that."

Gayle tied the ribbon under his chin in a neat bow and then stood back. "Mmm. I think I agree, Syl. If he were a real Regency girl he'd be beating off the suitors already."

"Heh. He'd be locked in a garret with Daddy standing outside with a shotgun, you mean. Here's your phone, Sis. Let's take advantage of the moment while we have it."

"Oh, yes, absolutely!"

More pictures were duly taken, in various poses, and then the two mothers decided that they had tormented Dennis enough. As they put their phones away he attempted to undo the large bow of the bonnet, but couldn't see what he was doing and the material kept slipping through his gloved hands.

"Mum?"

"Oh, here, let me help you with that."

Sylvia turned to Andrea. "What's the matter, sweetie? You don't look happy."

"It's stupid, getting Dennis to dress up like that! He's a BOY!"

"We had noticed, sweetie. Now perhaps you'd like to explain what else there is in the house he could wear? He can't spend all day wandering around with just a blanket wrapped around him."

"Besides," Gayle added as she pulled the bow apart and lifted the bonnet off, "any blankets you have here would probably be the wrong material. Or had you overlooked that point? What Dennis has on now fits him, is made entirely of cotton and he tells me it is quite warm and comfortable. In different circumstances I would put on something like he's wearing like a shot."

"But he's a BOY! It isn't right. You're just making him look stupid."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Andrea," Sylvia said, getting a little heated, "It has been raining for the last five days and we've all been stuck inside for three of those. We're not going outside, not even to the shops, and we aren't expecting any visitors. Dennis is comfortable wearing the gown and that's all there is that he can wear. Nobody else is going to see him except us. Nobody else thinks he's stupid. So pipe down and put up with it. Nobody is asking you to wear anything you didn't want to."

Andrea knew that tone of voice. "Yes, Mother. Sorry Dennis."

"It's okay, Dree," he responded. "Like Mum said, there isn't anything else and I'm fine dressed like this. It's an opportunity for me to have an experience that would never normally happen to me. When we go home I'll be back to normal again."

"Right," Sylvia said to them all. "Flouncy time over? Now you'll all have to go up into the girls' bedroom again this morning, I want to see if I can at least get a pair of Dennis's jeans dry today."

"Yes, Mother."

"Yes, Aunt Sylvia."

* * *

The four trooped upstairs again, Dennis very carefully, and entered the girls' bedroom. Andrea immediately went to her bed, pulled her pillow up and sat up against the headboard, using the pillow as a cushion. She leaned over and grabbed a book from her bedside table. Carrie and Jennifer sat down together on Carrie's bed. Dennis sized up the situation, remembered what he was wearing and walked over to the dressing table. He pulled out the chair, turned it around and sat down.

"Why are you sitting there, Denise?" asked Carrie.

"I didn't want to sit on a bed and sort of slouch like you two are doing, I'd put creases in the gown or something," he replied. "Besides, I somehow feel as if I ought to sit the way a Regency girl would, and this chair is comfortable enough for now." He added, "It's funny, I feel like I want to do things a different way now I'm dressed like this."

"That's a female secret," she explained. "One reason we wear so many different kinds of clothes is because they can affect the way we think and feel. I remember feeling just the same way when I wore that gown. You wouldn't believe the boost you can get from just wearing the right dress, or shoes, or whatever." She grinned. "Or, maybe, considering the way you're going on, perhaps one day you will."

"Ah, no, Carrie, I don't think I'm going down that route. This is just a bit of holiday fun and if it helps stop me scratching all day then that's a bonus."

She tilted her head. "I thought it was the other way around? You're wearing that because you're scratching and there's nothing else available?"

"Yeah. Whatever. When I go home it'll be over and finished. What happens in Barnsley stays in Barnsley."

There was a mutter from the other bed. "I still think it's stupid."

Carrie sighed. "Oh, don't start, Dree. What's got into you anyway? What do you care what Dennis wears?"

"It's hard to explain," Andrea replied, lowering her book. "I know the reasons why he's doing it and I'm sort of okay with that but there's something that just doesn't feel right about the whole thing. Seeing him dressed like that makes me squirm."

"Ah, so it isn't Denise after all, it's you!"

Andrea's face had an uncomfortable look. "No. Yes. Maybe. Look, just let me read my book, will you?"

She turned away and focused her attention to her book, which Dennis now noticed was a Harry Potter. He turned back to face Carrie.

"I don't know if it would bore Jen but there are a couple of things you could tell me about while we're here, Carrie. One is what happened in your stage production and the other is Pride and Prejudice. Um, the book, I mean. I know absolutely zero about that period, really."

"I assume that means you haven't read any Jane Austen?"

"Of course not. I've always assumed that it was chick lit."

"Yes and no. Jane Austen was writing about two hundred years ago, long before chick lit became a thing. She was just writing about the world she lived in. In those days girls and women were almost property, the same as farm animals, and had to be carefully raised and presented so that some unsuspecting man would take them off their parents' hands. It's a bit like arranged marriages, that sort of thing. Most of the time love didn't come into it. Pride and Prejudice centres around the Bennet family, who have five daughters and not much money. There is an estate but -"

* * *

Three girls, plus one 'girl', trooped down the stairs just before lunch. Dennis went to find his mother, who was in the kitchen with Sylvia preparing the food.

"You're a little early," his mother remarked, "we're still sorting out the food. Oh. Did you want those gloves taken off so you can go to the toilet before we sit down?"

"That's part of it," he replied. "I wondered if I could just leave the gloves off for this afternoon, let my arms get some air."

"Well, why not? Just so long as you feel warm enough. Here, let me wipe my hands and help you with those gloves."

Sylvia asked, "How are you getting on with that outfit, Denise? It can't be anything like you're used to."

"Understatement of the year, Aunt Sylvia! Now I have adjusted to the way it needs to be worn I am surprised at how comfortable I feel, actually. I wouldn't want to wear something like this all the time but," he nodded thoughtfully, "it's just right for what I need today. I certainly get why girls like dressing up like this."

"And grown ups!" his mother added. She pulled off the second glove. "Let me have a look at your arms while you're standing under the good light. Mmm, those look much better than yesterday, don't they?" She ran a thumb over the reddest patches. "There's still some roughness around the elbows, so it's not over yet, but what we're doing seems to be having the right effect. Let's leave the gloves off and see how you feel later on. It'll certainly make eating your food easier!"

"Yes, Mum."

"What about your chest?" Gayle gently tapped the bright red ribbon stitched under his bustline. "Is this causing any trouble there?"

"Don't think so, Mum. That crop top ended up a little bit lower than that line so it shouldn't rub and I haven't noticed any itching around either line."

"That's good. Sounds like the Hydrocortisone cream is working, then. Pity there's so little of it left."

"Yes, Mum. Uh, now I think I ought to go, if you know what I mean."

Sylvia called, "Are you going to need help, Denise? That's a lot of material to manage over a toilet seat."

He reddened. "I think I can manage, Aunt Sylvia. Regency ladies must have, mustn't they? There's not enough room for two in the downstairs toilet anyway."

"I didn't mean -" she began but he grinned at her and turned to go.

"Make sure you wash your hands," his mother called as he left.

When he got back Sylvia had gone into the dining room and his mother was pulling a stack of plates from the cupboard.

"How did you get on?" she asked.

"Okay, mostly," he replied. "I had to work out a scheme to hold it all out of the way while I wiped. I can't imagine how they did it in Regency times. Half the time they wouldn't even have had proper toilet bowls!"

"True. We sometimes forget how convenient modern conveniences really are. While you had your skirts up, so to speak, did you happen to look at the state of your legs?"

"Um, I didn't really notice, Mum. Too many other things to worry about."

She put the plates on the kitchen table and walked around. "Would you mind if I did a quick lift-up and look?"

"I suppose so. Where's Aunt Sylvia?"

"She's taken some food into the dining room. I'll be quick."

Gayle quickly lifted the skirt and chemise up and made a brief inspection of his legs before moving round the other side to do the same. At that point Sylvia reappeared.

"Ooh! Can anyone have a go?"

"You embarrass your own children, Syl, if you want to, leave mine to me! I'm just taking a look at those marks on his thighs while I have a chance."

Gayle suited action to words by lifting the other side up. "It all looks much better than it did yesterday," she announced with a frown. "I wonder what's going on? It's almost as if you have two different problems here, the long-term thing with your arms and a newish allergy reaction."

Sylvia said, "Poor Dennis - Denise. Coming out in lumps the moment someone so much as looks at you. All this can't be much fun for you."

"It's not what I expected when we came up here for a holiday, Aunt Sylvia. To a point I'm beginning to enjoy the change, though."

"See? I told you this might happen. Now, are you free to give us a hand laying the table?"

Gayle said, "I was just about to ask him to take those plates through, Syl."

"Of course, and he can manage easy enough without those gloves on. Go on, Denise."

"Yes, Aunt Sylvia."

As he turned to depart with the plates she said, "Come back when you've done that, Denise, you'll need to have the apron put on before you can eat."

A sigh. "Yes, Aunt Sylvia."

Sylvia turned to Gayle. "Isn't he different dressed like that? You'd barely know it was the same person."

"He still looks like Dennis to me, Syl. A well-behaved Dennis, I'll admit, but then he can't be much else dressed like that."

"Still if it gives him an insight into what us girls have to go through it can't be all bad, can it? I'm sure there are some busybodies around who would be screaming child cruelty right now."

Gayle's eyebrows rose. "In Barnsley? I thought they'd be all for it, if it stopped their lads from hanging about on street corners and worse."

"You're right there, Sis." She giggled. "Can you imagine all the local lads togged out like that? Oh, look, the peas are done, time to dish up. Can you grab that bowl for me?"

"Sure, Syl."

* * *

Dennis couldn't resist scratching his arms during lunch. Gayle spotted him doing it and he hadn't even realised that he was doing it!

"Oh, no. Dennis... Denise, you need more ointment on those arms after we finish."

"What?" He looked down to see what he was doing. "Oh, right. Ngh, it's so difficult to not scratch!"

"I know, dear. Just... try to keep your hands away from your arms while you're actually eating, that's all. There's no point washing your hands to eat if you're just going to touch skin with ointment on, is there?"

"Ew. No, Mum, you're right."

Sylvia got up and fetched a tissue. "Here, Denise, wipe your hands clean on that. I'm sure you're going to be all right, after all, that stuff is going into you anyway through your skin, isn't it?"

Gayle cautioned, "That isn't the same as eating it, Syl."

"Yes, well, other than making the poor boy go and wash his hands every five minutes a tissue will have to do for now."

"I could always put the gloves back on him. That would stop any getting in his mouth." She paused. "Probably."

Dennis objected. "Mum, no. Now I know I'm doing it I can stop myself." He scrubbed his hands with the tissue, paying particular attention to his fingernails.

"All right, then. But afterwards I think we'd better lard you up again and put the gloves back on. That will protect you both ways, won't it? Sorry, Denise."

"I know, Mum."

Before putting the gloves back on Dennis after lunch Gayle turned them inside out to inspect them.

"Hmm. Look, Denise, even though much of the ointment has gone into your arm there's still a fair amount staining these gloves."

He peered at the gloves. "Oh, yeah, Mum. Maybe..." He thought. "Looking at where the marks are and what we've been doing, I'm wondering if it's areas where I've been sweating. See? The palms, inside the elbows and right at the top."

"I think you're right, Denise. Still, that's one reason you were wearing the gloves at all, wasn't it? To stop the stuff getting everywhere. I think you'll have to wear them for the rest of today, except perhaps at dinner time, but after that they will need to be washed." Gayle rolled her eyes. "Yet more washing! I hope that washing machine can get fixed soon or it's going to get difficult for all of us."

He pondered. "So what do I wear tomorrow?"

She gave him a smile. "Well, let's see what gets dry today and will be available for you to wear tomorrow. I think at least one pair of your jeans should be okay. Have you enough tee shirts to go with it?"

"I still have that camo one I started out with yesterday, Mum. It only got worn a couple of hours."

"Fair enough, but are you just going to put your sweatshirt on over it like you did yesterday? I'm not sure that's a good idea. Look, just wait until tomorrow and we can see what's available."

"Okay, Mum."

* * *

The afternoon started out awkward again. Andrea sat up on her bed as before and buried her nose in her Harry Potter. Carrie and Jennifer sat on Carrie's bed and Dennis again chose the dressing-table chair.

"We were talking yesterday about me doing Pride and Prejudice," Carrie began. "Seeing the way you're dressed, Denise, have you had any thoughts about going on the stage?"

"What, me? It depends. I have a little bit of experience as an extra but that's all. If it meant I had to wear costumes like this all the time then I'll pass, thanks."

"Well hardly! There might be the odd occasion when an actor has to put on something unusual but you'd be doing boy parts not girl's parts. Oh, unless you're an all boys school?"

"Yep. But the girls' school is right next door and, whenever we've had school plays we get some of the girls over to take those parts. Our boys go over there for their school plays."

"Oh, right. See? Unless you're doing a panto or some play where a boy has to pretend to be a girl for part of it, you wouldn't have to dress up like this, and anyway it would be unlikely to be a Regency play. What I meant was, you've now had a little experience of acting a part."

"I suppose." He wrinkled his nose. "Now you've put the idea in my head I might think about it."

"That's all I wanted to know. You're still all right dressed that way? When I wore those it was fine to start with but got a little sticky towards the end - but then, I did spend part of the evening under stage lights."

He shrugged. "I'm good, Carrie. It's different, of course, but I don't have a screaming urge to tear it all off." He grinned. "Yet. Ask me again at the end of the day."

Andrea slammed her book shut and threw it onto her bed. "You shouldn't be wearing that at all! It's ridiculous!"

The others turned to look at her in amazement.

"What's got into you, Dree?" Carrie asked quietly. "You've been acting funny ever since this costume was suggested."

Andrea scowled. "I don't know. Leave me alone. Can't you find something else to talk about or do?"

"Well we're a bit limited right now, Dree. We can't do much else because of the rain. If you actually came and joined the rest of us then we might find something to talk about."

"Oh, all right. But no Regency talk."

So they talked about many different subjects but Andrea didn't look directly at Dennis again all afternoon.

* * *

"Oh, that's better, Mum."

Gayle had removed the long gloves so that Dennis could prepare himself for bed.

"What's up? Did they start annoying you somehow?"

"It's difficult to say, Mum. They were perfectly okay to begin with but unlike yesterday they just seemed to get tighter and tighter as the day went on."

"Hmm. But you did wear them all day yesterday, didn't you? Today it's been part of the morning until lunch, then you took them off and began scratching again. Then for most of the afternoon. Still, I doubt that you can wear these tomorrow, Denise. It will be a good idea to let your arms have a bit of freedom for a while."

"Well that depends what there is to wear doesn't it? I'm resigned to wearing something strange tomorrow if that's what it takes."

Gayle looked fondly at her son. "I must say, you're taking this rather well considering. A different boy might have flat out refused or had a complete meltdown."

"Heh. Ask me again tomorrow evening, Mum."

"Right. Let's get this gown off you, then. I have to loosen these ties and then I should be able to pull it up and over your head. Ready?"

"Go for it, Mum."

Gayle carefully lifted up and almost immediately stopped because of the resistance. She lowered the gown.

"What's causing the problem?"

"Uh, I think you'll have to remove the fake boobs first, Mum. Oh, and there's another ribbon in the neckline that has to be loosened, if I remember right. It all seemed complicated when it was put on me."

"Well Sylvia and Carrie put it on you this morning - oh, yes, I see now - and they might have done things I didn't notice. After all, I'm hardly the world's greatest expert on Regency wear."

With everything loosened and the breast pads removed, the gown came off easily. Gayle surveyed her son.

"That chemise looks good enough to wear as a nightie, Denise."

"Mum! Just no."

"If you say so. Just making an observation. Do you need help? Oh, I'll unlace these stays for you first."

With the stays out of the way Dennis pulled the chemise over his head, leaving him in just his school-issue dark green knickers.

"Brr! It's not very warm now I've taken that off! Can I get into my pyjamas straight away, Mum?"

"Well, let's just take a moment to have a look at all the damage. Let's see, your arms I know about, they will probably not even be visible by the end of the week."

"On past experience you're right, Mum."

Gayle bent down and surveyed his chest and back. "That looks good. It was worth using the last of the Hydrocortisone cream on that, it has almost disappeared already."

"Yeah, well, I haven't noticed anything from that area or my legs today, once we found out what was happening."

She bent down. "These areas still look pink but, like your chest, are already fading. Providing you don't go near those jogging bottoms again you should be fine by tomorrow."

"That's good news, sort of. I just hope the jeans are ready by tomorrow."

"Yes, but, don't take it for granted that they will be. There's a lot of damp clothing downstairs and it's all over the place. Who knows what will be dry and what won't?" She picked up the gown and the chemise. "I'll take these and hang them up somewhere to try and get some of the creases out. You've done well today, Dennis."

"Thanks, Mum."

"I'll leave you to get ready, then. Don't forget to clean your teeth."

"Of course, Mum. 'Night Mum."

"Good night, Dennis."