The rain eases but Dennis finds out that his clothes are still not usable. After a fruitless search for something to wear, he once again becomes a Regency Miss. This time, however, he discovers the limitations of the attire of the time. Then an unexpected visitor arrives...

Scratch!

an amusement by Penny Lane

3 of 3 - Tricky Tuesday

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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When Dennis had woken the following morning something had changed that threw him for a while. It was quiet. He could not see out of his tiny window but the sky looked brighter. Maybe..? Stumbling - and scratching - onto the landing he paused at the window at the top of the stairs. Yes the rain had, indeed, stopped, though the whole scene still looked completely saturated. He couldn't look for long since his bladder had other priorities.

In the bathroom he did his business then pulled his pyjama top off once more, dropping his bottoms as well. The marks along his legs were still there though mostly faded, as was the ring across his chest. None of that itched. Unfortunately his arms looked and felt as though someone had waved a blowlamp across them. Not good news. He re-dressed and walked out onto the landing.

"Dennis?"

He pushed open the door to the guest bedroom and looked in. His mother was already sitting up in bed with her light on. As he entered Jennifer pushed past on her way to the bathroom.

"Mum? You're awake early."

"You're late, you mean. How are things this morning?"

"I had a look in the bathroom. The legs and chest, well, you can still see the marks but they are already fading."

Gayle nodded. "You were only exposed to the crop top and those bottoms for a small part of Sunday, it isn't surprising that your skin is already getting over the shock. What about your arms?"

"Worse, Mum."

He pulled up the sleeves of his pyjama top to let her see.

Her lips pursed. "Yow. That doesn't look good, does it? Itch much?"

He gave her an old-fashioned look. "Duh, Mum. It itches like crazy."

"Oh, my poor boy. Whatever are we going to do with you?"

"Dunno, Mum, but I think I need some ointment right away, even before breakfast. If I take the pyjama top off and put a tee shirt on, can you help me do it now, before we go down?"

"I suppose so. That would mean that the ointment would be almost dry by the time we finish breakfast, that might give us some more options for things you could wear today."

"Unh. I'm almost okay with the idea that I'll have to wear fancy dress again today."

"I don't know whether I ought to be more worried by that statement than by your rash, Dennis! Go on, go and get your tee shirt and the ointment while you have the chance."

* * *

Dennis came down to breakfast in pyjama bottoms and camo tee shirt, his arms glistening from the ointment.

"New look, Dennis?"

"Good morning, Aunt Sylvia. My arms were itching so I thought I'd get the retaliation in first."

"I see. That looks... sticky. Are you going to be able to eat breakfast like that? Are your hands clean?"

"There's nothing on my hands, Aunt Sylvia, only on my arms. Mum did them for me, she's just washing her hands now. Um, perhaps I ought to have an apron on just in case."

"You're being a bit, you know, sensible this morning?"

"I got some practice in yesterday. Uh, I don't think I can stay like this for very long, Aunt Sylvia, it isn't going to be warm enough. And I've no idea what's available."

"Ha. I thought it was women who didn't have anything to wear! Right, I can hear the others, let's get some hot breakfast into you to get you warm and then we can try and figure out what there is for you to wear."

Phil was already at the table and he jabbed the back end of his breakfast spoon in Dennis's direction.

"You don't look warm, lad. This house is usually fine but it's always cold first thing, whatever we do. How long will that lot take to soak in?"

"About an hour or so, Uncle Phil." Dennis frowned. "I don't remember seeing you yesterday evening, come to think of it. Did something go wrong?"

Phil grunted. "You could say that, lad. Oh, not with what I was sent to do, that went just the way we expected it to. No, the river Niss broke its banks just north of Bythorpe. It flooded a number of fields, several villages and more importantly the main road which was my way home. I had to make a sixty mile diversion to get back here and I had a call while I was doing that, to help out with the rescue work. Didn't get home until nearly three this morning."

"Oh, sorry to hear that, Uncle Phil. Does that mean they won't call you again today?"

"It depends." He swivelled and looked out of the dining room window. "If the weather keeps improving like this then probably not, but in my business you never know." He turned back and smiled. "I'm hoping for a quiet day, some of which I'll probably spend asleep."

"Ah, I get the message, Uncle Phil. But we were quiet yesterday and today will probably be much of the same." Dennis reddened. "Ah, have you been told what happened after you left yesterday?"

His uncle nodded. "Aye, and seen the photos. I'm really not sure what to think, lad - or should that be lass?"

"I can only say what I said before, Uncle Phil. Once we go home I have no further desires to do what I did Sunday or yesterday. As for today, I'm hoping that my jeans are dry but," he shrugged, "Mum says wait and see."

"Mums know best, that's for sure."

Jennifer was next but she had already seen the anointing. When Carrie and Andrea appeared both recoiled.

"Ew! It's the slime monster!"

"Good morning, Andrea. It's not really slime but from that distance you can't tell the difference. It will soon soak in."

Carrie asked, "Is that what you have to do all the time, Dennis?"

"Not all the time, no. Just when I have a bad outbreak. Most of me is healing nicely but my arms don't want to play along so far."

"No, they don't," agreed Gayle, joining them. "Morning, Phil. I hear you had trouble last night?"

"Yes and no, Gayle. Good morning. For what I was sent out to do, it all worked as expected. But -"

* * *

After breakfast Sylvia made an unfortunate discovery.

"I'm so sorry, Sis! I was sure I had turned these around so that the waistband would get the heat! As it is, the waistband is still damp - here, have a feel - while the legs can probably stand up on their own. It would be like wearing concrete pipes."

Gayle felt the waistband, then the legs and shook her head. "It's easy enough to do, Syl, especially with all this washing on racks everywhere. Could you perhaps steam those legs to make them soft enough?"

Sylvia shook her head. "Not with this thick denim, no. I've done it with thinner material but I'd probably just end up with damp legs as well."

"What about the other pair of jeans?"

"Still much as they were yesterday, unfortunately." The two sisters looked at one another. "At least there won't be any trouble getting Dennis into some of the alternatives now."

"That's assuming that we can find any alternatives, Syl," Gayle pointed out. "Yesterday was digging somewhat deep, what is there left he can wear?"

"You have a point. My girls aren't going to like what we have to do this morning."

"Mmm. Especially Andrea. I wonder what her beef is?"

"No idea, but I'm not going to let her disrupt everything today, Sis. There's been something going on there for a while now that I don't understand but for today Dennis has to come first."

"Agreed."

The girls' bedroom wasn't that big and six people in there did not leave much room to move.

"This won't work," Sylvia announced. "Look, we're going to have to go through both your wardrobes today to find something for Dennis to wear as there is literally nothing else available. I am sorry about that and I apologise since it is my fault the washing wasn't sorted out properly yesterday evening. Anyway, it means we'll be getting things out of both wardrobes and looking at sizes and labels, there will be too much stuff around for all of us to stay."

"Now Dennis of course has to be here and so do I and Sylvia," Gayle added, "but there's not enough room for all of us to stay in here. Jennifer, I think you'll have to go downstairs and wait developments, please."

"Of course, Mum. Aunt Sylvia, can I turn the telly on? There might be something to watch as it's holiday time."

"Yes, of course, sweetie. Just keep the volume down in case Uncle Phil has dozed off, okay?"

"Yes, Aunt Sylvia." The youngest of the four left the bedroom and headed downstairs.

Sylvia told Carrie and Andrea, "I really don't want to go through either of your wardrobes without the owners being present, it wouldn't be right. But even five in here is pushing it, so I'll ask each of you," indicating her daughters, "to step out while we look in the other one's wardrobe."

Carrie asked, "What if you don't find anything, Mums?"

Sylvia pursed her lips. "Worst comes to absolute worst, Dennis has to spend the rest of the day in his sleeping bag, but I don't expect that to happen. We must be able to cobble something together from what's in both of your wardrobes."

"It wasn't so easy yesterday, Mums."

"I know, but remember, you made that suggestion before we really had a good look at what was available. Now that we know that Dennis isn't going to freak out at what we might offer him, we potentially have a much wider choice."

"Hadn't thought of that, Mums. Do you want me to leave first?"

"No, let's do yours first, since you're the largest size of the four of you. I'm not sure we are going to find much in yours but you never know. So, Dree, if you wouldn't mind joining Jennifer downstairs for a while. You can come back up when Carrie comes down."

Andrea pulled a face. "Okay, Mother."

As she walked out of the bedroom the mothers exchanged significant looks, which Carrie caught.

"Mums?"

"I wish I knew what was bothering Dree, dear. She has been in a funny mood ever since we put Dennis in skirts but it isn't clear why."

"That's not quite true, Mums. On Sunday she was fine and even suggested what Dennis ended up wearing, but you're right, there's something going on there. Sorry I can't help you."

"So Sunday was fine but yesterday wasn't?" Sylvia mused. "Even stranger." She shook her head. "Let's get going! Poor Dennis is sitting there gently freezing while we discuss my weird daughter. Uh, my other weird daughter. Carrie, this is your show. What might you have for him?"

"Not much, I'm afraid, Mums." She pulled open both doors to her wardrobe and began rifling through the hanging garments.

"Ooh, that's a bit tightly packed, isn't it?" her mother noted. "I'm sure that you can find some stuff you aren't wearing any more or that's too small, make some room." She pointed to the garment bags at the end of the rail as an example. "We can bag it up and store it or pass it on, your call."

"That was the idea, Mums, but then certain visitors turned up."

"I suppose. What about those other dresses, then?"

They went through the whole wardrobe, finding that everything was too big, too short, too thin or the wrong material or style. Unfortunately Carrie had very little that had long sleeves.

"I usually wear a top, a cardie or that old denim jacket, Mums. These days dresses are considered a bit formal."

"For your age group, I'll grant you that. Things might look a little different once you start work - or start a family."

"Can't disagree, Mums, but I'm not doing either of those at the moment."

"So what about your skirts, then?"

The few that Carrie had were all too wide or too short or both.

Sylvia sighed. "I'd more or less expected this. Thank you, Carrie. You'd better go downstairs and swap with Dree."

Carrie closed her wardrobe doors, but not before saying, "Yes, Mums. You do remember there's another Regency gown in there?"

"I do and I'm trying not to think about it. Thanks, Carrie."

Carrie went downstairs and Andrea came up. When they went through her wardrobe it seemed to Dennis, though he had not thought about it before, that the two sisters had very different ideas about clothes. Andrea's skirts and trousers were completely different styles and colours to those of Carrie and the only dresses in her wardrobe were long, brightly coloured shiny items that were apparently bridesmaids dresses from weddings attended over the years.

Sylvia sat down on Andrea's bed with a thump, sighing. "Thank you, Dree. It looks like poor Dennis is out of luck - and, at the moment, in danger of getting frostbite. Gayle? What do you think?"

Dennis's mother pulled a face. "It's a real shame, Syl, but we should never have put Dennis in this position in the first place. Both you and I could have planned a little better." She held up a hand to forestall the impending response and added, "I know, Syl. But we're not helping Dennis by bitching over poor planning. What did Carrie mean when she said there was another gown in there?"

"You can't plan everything, Sis. What's the point in taking snow boots and a parka down to the beach in summer on the off-chance it might snow? This rain was far worse than anyone predicted. Dennis, the only thing in the entire house that might fit you today - other than badly dried jeans, that is - is the other Regency gown, the one with sleeves. It might require a bit more commitment from you if you want to try that on."

"At this point I don't much care, Aunt Sylvia," he replied. "Anything so long as it will keep me warm, and the one I wore yesterday certainly did that." He asked cautiously, "What do you mean by commitment?"

"Oh, it's just that the sleeves make it a bit more awkward to get on and off," Sylvia explained. "That means that, once it's on, it'll have to stay on, so there's no adding more ointment to your arms, for example, until tonight. Want to have a go?"

"This will mean more photos, won't it?"

Sylvia smiled. "Yes, kiddo, but they will be kept safe, I can assure you. What about the gown?"

"I can only try, Aunt Sylvia."

She smiled at him. "You're being very accommodating, I must say. Let me fetch it out for you to see."

Andrea, who had been standing behind her mother watching, suddenly said, "Oh, this is too much!" She stomped to the bedroom door and yanked it open.

"Hey!" her mother said sharply. "You come back here a moment! What's going on, Andrea? You've been acting peculiar ever since someone even mentioned Regency gowns yesterday. What gives?"

Andrea turned and there was a most conflicted look on her face. "I... don't know, Mother. It just feels... wrong, somehow."

Gayle glanced at Dennis, who was watching, and gave her head a slight shake to say, "Let's keep out of this."

"This isn't about Dennis, is it?" Sylvia asked her daughter. "It's somehow about you. Well, this isn't about you, it's about Dennis and he has nothing else to wear, you know that. So why are you kicking up a fuss about someone else's problem?"

"I don't know, Mother. The whole idea just gives me the creeps, that's all."

"Well, Dennis's choices are very limited today while yours certainly aren't! Go downstairs and wait there. I'll deal with you once we have got Dennis into something warm. Go on!"

Andrea slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs, quietly, with a look on her face that hinted at a future explosion - or implosion. Sylvia turned to Dennis.

"Where were we? Oh, yes." She went to the wardrobe and with difficulty pulled out the four garment bags from the crowded rail. "This is the one. Oh, and of course he'll need a chemise, short stays and the, er, padding from yesterday. He can have a new chemise, Sis, and stays. I think I'll gather all this together after you've gone home and get it professionally cleaned before we pack it away."

"Okay. I'll go and fetch the padding. Dennis? How are your arms? Dry enough to be putting on clothing?"

He poked and prodded a few places before running his fingers all over his arms. "Yes, Mum, dry as anything now. It's been a while since you put it on, after all."

When Gayle returned with the freezer bags full of rice Dennis had taken off his camo tee shirt and Sylvia had already helped him into the chemise.

"I didn't want him to get cold, Sis. Ah, here's the short stays."

The short stays were fitted, laced and the padding inserted. Sylvia opened another garment bag and pulled out the gown. It was a slightly thicker material than the ball gown had been, coloured a pastel mixture of purples, browns and other shades that merged and made a delicate pattern. The ribbon trim was the same that had been used on the bonnet.

"Now this is going to be a snug fit while we're putting it on and until it's adjusted," she warned. "Fortunately it stayed on Carrie until the end of each act she wore it in so there was no need for a quick change."

He assumed a diving position and the two mothers fed the sleeves over his arms. While the tops were the usual puffy arrangement the sleeves tapered rapidly down to his wrists. They then pulled and tugged the rest of the gown down but it just would not fit over his shoulders. His head remained trapped inside the cloth with his arms in the air.

"I was afraid of that," Sylvia said. "It was close enough on Carrie but Dennis must have shoulders just that little bit wider."

"Not that much wider, surely?" Gayle said. "Dennis, can you pull your shoulders together somehow? I know, bend forward a little and lower your arms. I'll make sure you don't fall over."

She put a hand on his chest and then pushed his back gently with the other one. As his arms lowered he found he could push his shoulders back and together enough that the gown slid into place with almost an audible pop. It was a matter of moments to rescue his head and pull the skirts down tidily.

As he straightened up Sylvia began adjusting the under-bust gathering and feeding the drawstrings around to the back. She lifted up the back and did something there before straightening up herself.

"There! That looks better, and it is a good fit, Dennis... Denise. I was afraid it was too small but it fits reasonably well. How do you feel?"

"Uh, it's okay, Aunt Sylvia. Oh, it's a little tight across the shoulders so it doesn't feel like the other gown but I don't think I'm going to be chopping wood dressed this way, am I? I like the sleeves, though."

The sleeves tapered down and went over the wrist, shaped to a point over the back of each hand. There was enough flexibility for him to move each hand around so he didn't think that there would be any problem doing things dressed this way.

"Did you have any problem getting your hands down there? Boys' hands are usually bigger than girls' hands by your age."

"Not really, Aunt Sylvia. Less problem than the shoulders, anyway."

Gayle tightened up the neckline drawstring, tied it and hid the excess inside. "Syl, remember it was three years ago that Carrie wore this, not the two years they are apart in age. We're just lucky that we're between growth spurts."

"Oh, yeah, you're right, Sis. Here, Denise, let me feel your shoulders." She had a good feel around the shoulder area. "Actually, it isn't too bad. I wondered if he had much wider shoulders, boys usually do, don't they? But it looks okay to me. So, let's get some shoes on him and join the others downstairs."

"Not so fast! Now he needs his face and hair doing."

"Oh, yeah. I'll call Carrie up."

* * *

Dennis made his way down the stairs following Gayle and Sylvia, his hands holding his skirts out of the way. He had discovered that the yoke across the back of the gown was strong and tight which meant that his shoulders were held back and his chest, with its two projections, stuck out in front of him. He realised that many girls would want to walk that way and accepted the limitation. His normal posture needed some attention, anyway.

In the living room were Jennifer, Andrea and Uncle Phil, the latter looking surprised and impressed by the figure who walked delicately through the door.

"That's amazing," he said to the arrivals. "I think that looks even better than when Carrie wore it, Syl. Are you comfortable, er, Denise?"

"Mostly, Uncle Phil. After all, I wore something very similar to this yesterday so I'm almost used to the way this works now. It's a little different to that one, though. It must be something to do with the long sleeves, though it's nice to have the sleeves and not those long gloves."

He nodded. "If you say so, lass. Done up like that I can hardly see any boy in there at all."

Dennis lifted his skirts and curtseyed. "Why, thank you, kind sir."

Everyone else apart from Andrea giggled. Sylvia said, "You did that perfectly, Denise. Are you sure that you're not going in for an acting career?"

"Don't think so, Aunt Sylvia. Even if I did I'd be more likely to be Third Spearman or something than a Jane Austen heroine. But, now I've done this I might consider it."

Gayle commented, "Swanning around in a gown isn't all of acting, Denise. You have to know how to, you know, learn scripts, follow stage directions and pretend fake emotions to order. If you want to do something like that we'll have a talk when we get home."

"Yes, Mum."

"Now," she said, "it's time for the dreaded photos. Carrie, we'll do some without the bonnet first and then you can put it on him for some more."

Carrie hefted the box with the bonnet in it and walked over to join her father. "Yes, Aunt Gayle."

The others got themselves out of view as the cameras came out. Only Dennis could see Andrea's look of disgust and fear as she turned her head away. The poses were very similar to those of yesterday.

Jennifer commented, "Your hair wasn't like that yesterday, Bro - or should that be Sis?"

"Yeah," he replied, turning for another shot. "Carrie convinced Mum that a careful trim of my fringe wouldn't look terrible when I went back to being a boy again." He nodded. "I think she was right, it's fine like this."

"Don't move your head like that, Denise!"

"Sorry, Aunt Sylvia."

After a few more shots the bonnet was unboxed once more and Carrie arranged it on his head. More poses were shot and everyone - except Andrea, who kept her face averted - pronounced the effort a great success.

"That should be all, Denise. You can take off the bonnet now."

"Thanks, Aunt Sylvia."

He reached up and grabbed the ends of the ribbon, finding it suddenly not so easy. He pulled the bow apart but then discovered that he could not reach further to separate the two ribbons from under his chin. In fact, he could just reach the tip of his chin with one outstretched finger but the ribbon was well out of reach. The combination of the tight yoke and the long sleeves meant that he could barely touch his head at all.

"Er, Aunt Sylvia? I can't reach!"

"What do you mean?"

He demonstrated but his arms were restricted both by the cloth and by the unyielding bosom of the gown padding.

"Oh, dear! Here, Denise, just a moment."

Passing her phone to Gayle she rushed forward. She quickly pulled off the bonnet and passed it to Carrie.

"What's the problem, dear?"

"I think the sleeves are too tight somehow, up at the shoulders, Aunt Sylvia. I can't reach upwards at all."

"Let me see."

Sylvia walked around the back and felt at various places, asking Dennis to move his arms at certain times.

"Oh. I see what's happened." She walked around to face Dennis. "I remember now. I don't know why, but I had a lot more trouble setting the sleeves in this than I did for the other one. I think it is because, with the short puff sleeves, exact position wasn't so critical. Your arms come out right away and there's less to stop them moving around.

"It didn't matter so much for Carrie because, as your Mum pointed out, when she wore this she was a year younger than you are today. Her shoulders weren't so wide. Still, I remember that even then she couldn't lift her arms up much more than you can now. Sorry, kiddo, I forgot about that altogether. I think that's just the way they made gowns in those days. After all, demure young ladies weren't supposed to go waving their arms about, were they? Question is, now you know that, do you want to keep it on or go and try and take it off?"

Dennis considered, already knowing what the answer had to be. "If I take it off, Aunt Sylvia, there isn't anything else I can wear, is there? Besides, like I said upstairs, I'm not expecting to do anything physical today. It'll be alright, Aunt Sylvia. I'll stay like this."

"Who are you and what have you done with Dennis? He was never like this!"

"Stuck, Aunt Sylvia, in both senses of the word," Dennis responded with a smile.

"Well, let's think about what you will need to do today. Eat, drink, use the toilet. If you can't reach your mouth, how are you going to eat and drink?"

Phil suggested, "Knife and fork, Syl. He can hold a knife and fork and they will reach his mouth. That takes care of the food. Drinking is going to be harder but he could use a straw."

"I suppose so. What about the toilet?"

"I have no problem reaching down, Aunt Sylvia, only reaching up." He grabbed his skirts and demonstrated by part lifting them. "Using the toilet won't be any different to yesterday. I hope."

"Very well. Sis?"

"I hadn't expected this problem today," Gayle admitted. "At least it will keep him out of trouble. Okay, we'll play it like that. Denise, if you get into difficulty today you must ask for help immediately."

"Yes, Mum."

Sylvia suddenly turned to her younger daughter. "And what's got into you? Dennis has got a problem and this is the only way we can fix it! Why should that matter to you?"

Andrea squirmed in her chair. She looked at her mother but still avoided looking at Dennis.

"It's wrong. I don't like - Dennis shouldn't be doing that! I can't -" she broke off.

"I have had enough of this! You won't tell us what is wrong, I don't know what the matter is. Maybe it's some kind of jealousy - or perhaps envy. Is that it? Do you think you should be wearing that instead of Dennis?"

Andrea looked as if she wanted to be physically sick, but she couldn't give an answer, merely shaking her head.

"I don't know what to believe, now." Sylvia's eyes glinted. "However, I'll not have you disrupting a family gathering like this, especially when poor Dennis is in such a pickle. Let's have a level playing field, hey? You will go upstairs right now, young lady, and change into the gold bridesmaid's dress you wore to Elizabeth's wedding in April. You will wear that today just as long as Dennis has to stay in his Regency gown. Do I make myself clear?"

Andrea merely nodded but her expression was terrible.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go!"

She was sobbing by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs.

In the silence that followed, Phil asked quietly, "Is that wise, Syl? You don't know what's wrong but you're still punishing her."

"I'd hoped to get a reaction out of her but maybe she doesn't even know herself. Let's see if we can get any more out of her as the day goes on."

Carrie suggested, "Mums, you said a level playing field. Would it help if Jen and I changed into something fancy as well? I've got that gown I wore to the last school dance and I'm sure there's something in Dree's wardrobe that will fit Jen."

"So you're all dressed alike? Well, it has merit, Carrie, and you're showing thought for your sister. All right, you can go and have a look but not until she comes down - otherwise it could be bedlam. Sis? That all right with you?"

"I suppose so, Syl. If Jennifer plays along. Will you do this, Jennifer?"

"Of course, Mum. If there's something that might fit me."

"There should be," Sylvia said to her. "She has quite a collection going back years. They might not be your favourite colours but there's almost certain to be something that will fit you."

Phil asked, "Do you want me to put on a frock as well, Syl?"

The seriousness of the situation stopped Sylvia from laughing but she said, "Ah, no, Phil, I don't think that will be necessary. Maybe another day."

It was a few minutes before a tear-stained Andrea came down the stairs. The gold bridesmaid's dress was frilly and, although nominally long, was short enough to reveal matching gold t-strap shoes and some ankle.

"I look like a little girl dressed like this!"

"Well, if you behave like a little girl you can expect to get treated like one. Carrie, Jennifer, off you go."

The sudden change diverted Andrea. "Where are they going?"

"Carrie took me literally when I said a level playing field. They are both going to change into long frocks for the day."

Andrea burst into tears, took one look at her mother and launched herself at her father instead. He gathered her in and held her to his chest. Behind her, her mother threw her arms up and looked at Phil with exasperation.

At that moment the doorbell rang. Sylvia looked at Phil who shook his head. She went out to see what was going on as Dennis looked at his mother with alarm.

"Shh! Close the door, Denise."

There were two voices in the hallway which receded in the direction of the kitchen. The other voice was that of a man. Even Phil was now becoming concerned.

Shortly afterwards Sylvia appeared. "It's the washing machine engineer! Apparently he can't get to some priority customers because, you'd never guess, the roads are flooded, so he thought he'd come here first."

She looked around the room, sizing up the situation, noting the concern on Dennis's and Gayle's faces.

"The engineer is in the utility room for now, so you lot better disappear while you have the chance. Phil, take Andrea up and put her in our bedroom. Sis, Denise, I'd advise you to go up to the guest bedroom for a while otherwise there might be some awkward questions to answer. No, Denise, no-one will think you're not a girl, it's the costume which will raise eyebrows. Tell Carrie and Jennifer what's happening, won't you, Sis?"

"Of course, Syl."

Phil carried Andrea up as if she was a small child, even though her legs hung down to his knees. Gayle and Dennis followed quietly, all going their separate ways at the top of the stairs. Gayle went into the girls' bedroom to give them the news before returning to join Dennis in the guest bedroom.

"Well! That was unexpected. We'll wait up here until we get given the all clear," Gayle told Dennis. "What do you think is the matter with Andrea? I can't work it out at all."

"You're asking me to figure out the inner workings of someone I only meet perhaps twice a year, Mum? And she's a girl, as well, whatever I look like now. No idea, Mum, except..."

"Except?"

"It all seems to have something to do with the Regency gowns. Although, she didn't much like that gold dress either, did she?"

Gayle tried to work out some connection. "She was fine with you all on Sunday, wasn't she, when you were wearing a tee shirt and that denim skirt of hers."

"And I had the gloves on, Mum," Dennis reminded her.

"Oh, yes, but I don't think this about the gloves, Denise. Something's triggered her off somehow."

"Long skirts," Dennis said slowly. "Maybe she doesn't like long skirts? That one of hers I wore was, what do you call it? Mid calf. She was fine with that... only, it had never been worn, had it?"

"It's a thought. Perhaps she has something she doesn't like about that style of skirt..." Gayle tailed off as her thoughts wandered.

Dennis said, after a short pause, "I wonder, Mum. We had both wardrobes open while you were looking for something for me to wear. It didn't mean anything to me then but I did notice that Andrea's clothes were completely different styles and colours to Carrie's. Maybe she has different tastes? I mean, really different tastes? We have a girl in our school who has to wear uniform like the rest of us but the moment she's out of the gate she turns full goth. Maybe that's what is happening with Andrea."

"Maybe you're right," Gayle said. "Maybe she doesn't like shiny, flashy stuff, she'd rather be in, oh, I don't know, perhaps a hoodie and a grungy pair of jeans all the time. Teenagers go through phases, as I'm sure you are aware."

"Yep. Seen it in my own year. One minute they're normal, the next they have shaved all their hair off - but enough left to comply with school regulations, of course - and they have dozens of piercings."

"Yuck. I'm glad you haven't done that, Dennis. Mind you," she looked sideways at her son, "I'm not sure if this visit isn't giving you other ideas."

"I won't deny it's been interesting, Mum. I've learned more about girls and women than I probably ever wanted to know. It will likely make a difference how I treat them in future. But I have no desire to become one of them."

"Hmm. I wonder. Anyway, when I get a chance I'll have a word with Sylvia, maybe she hasn't spotted what could be, let us say, unusual style preferences in her younger daughter."

"Yes, Mum."

"And not a word about any of this to anyone, you hear?"

"I'm not stupid, Mum."

"Says the boy standing in front of me wearing a Regency gown." She smiled at him. "No, that's unfair, I do trust you that far. I wonder what's going on elsewhere?"

* * *

The washing machine engineer used the side way to get access to the utility room at the rear of the house, but this meant he could see into the dining room window. Lunch was therefore delayed until they thought he had finished and driven away. During this period the various youngsters remained upstairs, though Dennis did join Carrie and Jennifer in the girls' bedroom once they had changed. The mothers went downstairs and began laying the table for lunch by themselves. Andrea remained in her parents' bedroom until called down to eat.

She appeared in the doorway looking contrite.

"I'm sorry, Mum, Dad, for causing trouble. I'm sorry, Aunt Gayle, Dennis... Denise? Carrie and Jennifer, I made a fuss and I should not have."

She stood there waiting until Sylvia said, "Very well, Andrea. Come and sit down and eat your lunch. Perhaps we need to have a quiet talk about your problem, but not now. Do you mind sitting down with all of us while some of us are dressed up?"

"It's very good of Carrie to think of what she did. Sorry, Carrie. I'm better now."

Carrie gestured to Andrea's chair. "That's all right, Andrea."

They began to eat, Dennis finding that he could manage reasonably well with a knife and fork. Of course, he was also wearing a kitchen apron again. Part way through the meal there was a knock at the dining room door. Sylvia got up to answer it, waving a hand at the rest to keep quiet. She opened the door just enough to look surprised, to slip through and close it again.

There was a muttered conversation and then it all went quiet. Phil had a jolt and rapidly got up to draw the dining room curtains in case the engineer went past the window again. Sylvia came back in ten minutes later.

"Sorry about that. You were right, Phil, the heating element had gone. He hadn't finished, he had just gone back to the shop to fetch a replacement. So he has finished now, we're back up and running at last." She switched her attention to Gayle. "For starters I've put Dennis's two pairs of jeans back in, Sis, I'm going to do a rinse to soften them up, then a spin and tumble dry. They should be ready to iron by about five this evening."

"Oh, that's good. Dennis... Denise?"

"Might as well keep them till the morning, Mum, Aunt Sylvia. There's no rush now I'm like this."

Sylvia just nodded. "There's no sense in rushing if you don't want to, Denise. Enjoy yourself while you have the chance, that's what I say. The jeans will be ready then for you to wear when you go home tomorrow."

"Thank you, Aunt Sylvia."

* * *

"What shall we do this afternoon, then?" Carrie asked after the lunch things had been cleared away. "It might have stopped raining but I doubt anyone wants to go outside." She gave Dennis an apologetic smile. "Of course you can't go out looking like that, Denise! You'd get mud on the hem of that. So what else is there?"

He waggled his fingers like tentacles. "I have proper fingers now, so maybe we could play some card games? Or even Monopoly?"

Carrie looked at the others, resplendant in two different styles of bridesmaid's dresses, who nodded back.

"Okay, then. We'll just start with some card games and see how we get on."

An hour and a half later Sylvia came in with a tray of drinks and biscuits. She observed that they were all playing well together, even if Andrea still looked a little reserved.

"Here you are, girls. Try not to make a mess on those frocks, will you?"

She received suitable assurances and beat a retreat to the kitchen.

"How are they doing?" Gayle asked.

"Almost back to normal, I'd think." Her voice dropped. "I still can't figure Andrea out, though."

"Dennis and I had a little chat when we came upstairs this morning."

"Oh?"

"Yes. He has a theory that she doesn't like certain kinds of clothes. Oh, she might tolerate some of them on other people but not for herself. It's possible that even seeing some of them on other people has the implication that she could end up wearing them, so when she saw Dennis in the ball gown it blew her mind."

"What, oh, long gowns, that sort of thing? But she got unhappy when asked to wear that gold dress this morning. That's quite short." Sylvia thought for a while. "It's a thought, Sis, I'm surprised I didn't notice anything before. Perhaps she doesn't like girly clothes. We'll see what she'll tell us after you've gone."

"Fair enough. Oh, that's the washing machine! Has it finished, Syl?"

"Yep, but everything's hot so it will wait fifteen minutes or so to cool down before it unlocks the door. Time to finish our tea."

"And have another biscuit."

"Too right!"

* * *

By chance Dennis was upstairs putting the second pair of jeans in his bag, ready for departure the following day, when Andrea walked past.

"Hey, Dree! Got a minute?"

She looked around the door of the boxroom. "Dennis... Denise?"

"Um, look, come in here a moment. Sound travels."

"Okay." She was still reserved. "What is it?"

When she came inside he pulled the door to, but left it open enough so that he could see if anyone approached. His voice was low.

"I've been doing some thinking. About you. It's not me, is it? It's the gowns you've been having trouble with. I'm guessing that you don't like wearing really female things, would I be right?"

"I didn't realise," she replied in a low voice. "Until today I didn't even know I was doing it, or what I was finding unpleasant. It's all so confusing. I really do understand why you're standing there in a Regency gown but part of me wants nothing to do with any of that."

"Or, I'm guessing, that frock you have on now."

There was a look of disgust on her face. "Yeah. I know it's mine and I've worn it before but I've realised that I hate wearing dresses like this! I'd rather be comfortable in jeans or trousers and a sweatshirt."

"Or a hoody?"

She looked at him curiously. "How did you know that?"

"Because there are girls in my school who are just the same, Dree. They have to wear school uniform, everyone does, but the moment they're outside they change completely. It's like they are Wonder Woman, they go into a phone box and come out totally unrecognisable."

"How do they do that?"

"How would I know? I'm a mere boy, remember, though I've learned a few more things recently. Look, what I'm saying is that feelings like yours aren't unusual. There are some girls who even think they should be boys, just as there are boys who think they should be girls."

Her eyes widened. "How is that even possible?"

"Dunno. We have a couple - I think - at school, which is how I even know anything about the subject. One of them, a boy, is actually going to have the operation and eventually become a woman when they leave. Then there's a girl who wears boy's uniform to school and plays on the boy's football team. I'm not sure how far she wants to go, though."

"I didn't even know that was possible, Denise. Do you think I'm like that?"

"Don't know, Dree. I doubt anyone does, not even you. But it's something to think about. As you begin to learn more about yourself you might realise you don't want to do things the way everyone else does, or the way everyone wants you to. Something like that would certainly explain why you freaked out when you saw this gown."

"I suppose. Maybe I'll talk with Mum when you're gone." She gave a small smile. "That could be an interesting conversation!" She looked at Dennis. "Is that why you don't mind wearing that?"

"Well, it's left me a bit more open-minded, Dree. I don't want to become a girl, I don't think so, anyway, but dressing like this has its uses." He smiled at her. "It keeps me warm, for one thing. I get to understand why women - normal women, perhaps - like to wear clothes like this."

"I understand. Thank you, Dennis. You've made me think about what happened in a sensible way and told me things I never knew were even possible. I'll let you finish packing."

* * *

"Right, then." Dennis and Gayle were alone in the guest bedroom, since it offered more space for him to get undressed. There was a lot of fabric involved. She asked, "How have you found that gown today? I know about the problem with your shoulders, anything else cause trouble?"

"Actually, Mum, it's been much better than I expected." Dennis shrugged. "After all, it's what everyone wore once upon a time so it couldn't be that bad, could it?"

"Maybe, Dennis. Remember, it would be girls and women who wore those and, in case you might not have noticed, we're generally a different shape to you lot. I would also add that those gowns are quite loose fitting. Try being trussed up in a Victorian corset and dress with loads of petticoats, a bustle, and whatever else underneath! Not so much fun, I would imagine."

"You're right, Mum. Maybe I just got lucky, then."

Gayle eyed her son. "Is that what you call it? Right, so, if I remember from yesterday we have to loosen all the drawstrings first." She walked round to his back. "Only I don't see any here! How did they manage that?"

"Uh, Mum, I remember Aunt Sylvia lifting up the back and doing something underneath this morning."

"Oh, right."

She pulled the skirt right up and saw the neatly-tied bow at the base of his shoulder blades. She undid that and then moved around to his front to release the drawstring around the neckline.

"Were you warm enough with that amount of chest showing?"

"Well, it was different and not too warm to begin with but after a while it just seemed normal."

"Oh. All right, then, lift up your arms and I'll try and pull this over your head."

With the drawstring released Dennis could lift his arms a little higher than before but it was nowhere near enough. There was just too much of Dennis to let the gown slide past.

"Try crossing your arms," Gayle suggested. "Now grab the gown where the ribbon is and try and pull it up."

That actually made a difference but not enough. By now Dennis was getting sweaty and that made the material harder to get past his shoulders.

"It's no good, Mum. I've made myself hot and sticky trying and that isn't helping."

With the skirts down down again Gayle surveyed the problem. "No, it isn't. I'm wondering if we'll have to resort to surgery."

"Surgery?"

"Ha. Not you, Dennis, the gown. We might have to cut it off you if we can't shift it any other way."

"That would be a shame after all Aunt Sylvia's hard work. Say, I've been thinking. You said to cross my arms, that's the way girls and women usually take their tops off, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but I have no idea why we do it differently. Oh, to get them past our breasts, I suppose, which can become very sensitive at times. Why, what was your thought?"

"Because it keeps your shoulders, in, perhaps. Maybe that habit developed when all women wore clothes like this, just to get them off easily."

"Hmm. It's an idea, but no help tonight because you aren't actually a girl. Now that you've calmed down a little, let's have another go."

It was fruitless, the structure of the sleeves meant that he just couldn't raise his arms high enough to let the gown come off.

"I'm going to have to admit defeat and get Sylvia up," Gayle said. "There has to be a way to do this without destroying the gown."

With Gayle's sister in the room she explained what they had tried.

Sylvia giggled. "Poor Dennis! Trapped in a million yards of Regency material! Yes, there is a trick to getting this off, but one we only discovered after having as much trouble getting it off Carrie as you have had now. Have you released the drawstrings right out?"

"Well, the underbust one, yes. The top one, surely we just need enough to get his head through?"

Sylvia smiled knowingly. "Ah, but it isn't just his head that has to go through it."

She reached up and slackened the neck drawstring completely, leaving a large surplus of fabric drooping down in front. Then she reached out to each shoulder and pulled the puffy sleeves off and down his upper arms as far as they would go.

"Now you and I have to pull each side down," she instructed Gayle, "while at the same time easing his hands up the sleeves."

"Ah, now I get it! The gown goes down, not up."

"Yep. It does mean that the wearer needs two helpers to get the gown off each time but that wasn't a problem three years ago. Keep your arms still and down, Dennis. That's right."

With the gown pooled around his ankles he could simply step out of it, lifting the skirts of the chemise to do so.

"That's good." Sylvia leaned down and picked the gown up, putting it over her arm. "I'll go and hang this up while you carry on with Dennis."

She left and Gayle looked at Dennis. "I would never have thought of doing that."

"Neither would I, Mum. But then, we don't live in Regency times, where everyone would probably have known."

"True. Let me undo the stays for you and I'm sure you can manage the rest by yourself."

"Thanks, Mum."

She smiled at him. "Does it feel good being back to Dennis once more?"

"Sort of, Mum. I still have to clean my face and comb my hair out."

"True. At the moment you still look like a girl. Right, then, I'll leave you to do the rest."

~o~O~o~

Wednesday morning, a short time after breakfast

"Well, we're sorry to see you go. It's been a strange holiday for you, hasn't it? Sorry about the weather."

Gayle snorted. "Typical British, isn't it? Apologising for the weather which none of us can do anything about. Strange holiday, yes. Stranger for some more than others, eh, Dennis?"

"Yes. Thank you, Aunt Sylvia, Uncle Phil, for having us. I know it has been hard with all the extra people in your house."

"It's not been so bad, Dennis," Sylvia replied. "Oh, having the tumble dryer break didn't help but you had a good learning experience out of it, didn't you?"

"Is that what you call it, Aunt Sylvia? Still, it was better than the alternative. Definitely more interesting."

"Next summer," Phil said, "by the time you come again, we have plans for a conservatory out the back, which should give us more space for everyone to move around in. I'm also thinking about expanding over the garage, which would give us two more bedrooms and another bathroom, but that probably won't happen next year."

"Oh, I do hope so, Phil," Sylvia breathed. "With this number of kids around the bedroom situation is getting tight already. Our two will need their own rooms soon, they can't keep sharing."

"I know, Syl. Maybe we'll revisit those plans, then."

"Got everything, Gayle?"

"Yes, Syl. Just need to get everyone in and go."

"Well, goodbye to all of you." Sylvia came and gave a bone-crushing hug to the departing visitors. "Hope to see you all just after Christmas this year?"

Gayle replied, "I expect so."

"Maybe we'll see Denise again at Christmas," Phil suggested. "I quite liked having her around."

"I think I agree, Phil," Sylvia said, adding thoughtfully, "I think I'll have a go at re-setting the sleeves on that gown. It will probably still fit Denise by the next time she comes."

Dennis felt a cold pit forming in his stomach. Doomed!

~o~ END ~o~

Author's Note: The seeds which prompted this tale can be found in my blog here.