Peter and Katie Marriott are returning to the UK after a lifetime abroad. The brother and sister are simply acting on their father’s directions. He has a plan, intending to join them a little later, but they have to fulfil certain obligations prior to his return.

Whilst at an airport hotel, the pair become entangled with a shady character who is intent on seizing the assets of a beautiful but somewhat scatty heiress, Letty Greyson. Using quick wits and dubious skills, they manage to rescue the girl and return her to the bosom of her family.

However, the attractive Katie and handsome Peter are not quite what they appear.........

 
 
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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Author's Introduction:
When considerably younger, I read and thoroughly enjoyed the many works of Georgette Heyer. A completely new and colourful world of Regency Romance opened up to me, and I found the whole range of books delightful in the extreme.

One book, The MASQUERADERS, was to become my favourite, dealing with issues with which I could readily identify. It had everything one could want in a book: - Wonderful characters, beautiful women, handsome heroes, nasty villains, duels by moonlight, deception, love and romance, highwaymen, heroic deeds and horse-back rides across open countryside. Good triumphed over evil, and true love prevailed.

It also had a hero who spent most of the book dressed as a beautiful woman, and a heroine who appeared as a man.

I have planned for a long time to modernise the story, using those wonderful characters that Georgette introduced to me then. Now I feel I am in a position to fulfil that ambition, and if this turns out half as good as the original, then I will be well pleased.

I make no apology for lifting the book from the eighteenth century and plonking it into the twenty-first. I am probably breaching all manner of copyright laws, but I state now that although the opening of the story is based on that great book, by the very nature of the world we find ourselves, my story will be different, save some of the names and the fact that it takes part in London. Anyone who has read the original work will be able to see where I am going to end up, but hopefully not the direction I intend to take to get there.

My thanks to those who helped me edit, but mainly my thanks to the late great Georgette Heyer for being such an inspiration.
 
 
Tanya Allan
 
Originally written in 2005, revised in 2008.
 
The Legal Stuff: Modern Masquerade  ©2005, 2008 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 6 - Of Schemes and Schemers
 
 
Rob appeared for breakfast, yet again dressed as Katie in a skirt and warm sweater. He found Theresa still in her dressing gown, reading the paper.

“I see Pru’s door is still closed, what time did she get in?” he asked.

“She never came back. Her bed’s not been slept in,” Theresa said.

“Shit, really?”

“I think perhaps she had too much to drink and ended up sleeping with the big soldier.”

Rob paled visibly under his carefully applied make up.

“Oh God, do you think so?”

“I think she was drunk, yes, but she probably slept on the man’s spare bed,” Theresa said, looking at Rob critically.

“Why the skirt? You don’t have to dress up when you’re in the house.”

“I’m going shopping with Letty.”

Theresa smiled.

“Do I detect the work of cupid?”

Rob poured out his cereal, added the milk and sat down.

“Theresa, I don’t know. Hells bells, you don’t know how bloody confusing my life had been and still is. All I do know is that I feel something for her that I have never felt before, and I adore being with her.”

“Oh thank God, I did so fear you’d prefer being a girl, and end up like that forever!”

Rob smiled, munching through his cornflakes.

“It had crossed my mind,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Last month in Paris, I never told Pru, but I came that close to going to bed with a man. He was a Canadian, of French origins, and was the epitome of charm and goodness. He was a delegate at some conference and Dad saw his influence as positive in some project involving logging and paper mills in Quebec.

“Dad wanted to know his opinion on the current policy of the provincial government, probably because he wanted to know who to bribe. Anyway, I let him wine and dine me, and we even went dancing. I found out what Dad wanted, but was quite pickled, and actually found myself turned on by his advances.

“I claimed to be having my period, but intimated I might consider other activities. I meant it, Theresa, and would have done it too!”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I think he sensed I was not really willing, or maybe he wasn’t used to women. Afterwards, I had a funny feeling he might have been gay and felt obliged to act the manly man. How ironic was that? Imagine his reaction to finding out I was a male too! He seemed very relieved when I told him about my period, and that was it. He sent me some flowers the following day and left town shortly afterwards.”

“How did you feel?”

Rob looked sharply at her and then his face softened.

“If you must know I was disappointed. Shit, I was so mixed up. I really do feel like a girl when dressed like this. I wanted him to fuck me, even though I haven’t the right equipment. Daft, isn’t it?”

“Have you ever?”

“Had sex with a man, you mean? No. I went to a transvestite bar once, with some friends. They all thought I was a girl, and Pru came, as herself. I was dancing and a man pushed in and propositioned me. He was the only person who has ever read me. I was happy dancing with him, and have to confess to have been tempted to go with him, just to see what it was like.”

“And?”

“Pru simply said one word to me, and I didn’t go.”

“The word, what did she say?”

“AIDS.”

“Oh.”

“It never crossed my mind. So although I give the impression of being in control and all that, actually, I am a little fucked up.”

Theresa smiled, reaching out and taking his well-manicured and very feminine hand.

“If you end up as a girl, you could do a whole lot worse. You are so pretty, so you would fit right in with no difficulty at all. I have awful trouble remembering you are really a boy! I imagine Tony will be after you soon in any case. You never know, you could make a lovely bride.”

“God forbid, he’d crush me to death. No thanks, I’ll leave him to Pru, she’s big enough to handle him.”

Rob finished his breakfast, and washed up his bowl. Theresa watched the ‘girl’ as she walked about the kitchen. There was nothing masculine about ‘her’ at all. Rob was a consummate and unconscious actor, capable of being the person he portrayed without actually thinking about it.

“I’m off. I’m meeting Letty at her place in half an hour.”

“Where are you going?”

“Oxford Street. I need a new dress, particularly as there’s the Spring Ball at the Hurlingham Club in ten days.”

“Oh, and just how did you find out about that?”

“Letty mentioned it, and wanted to know whether Peter and I would go in her party.”

“Oh, this is getting too complicated. Your father would be most displeased.”

“He’s not here, Theresa, he’s never around when we need him,” Rob said, slightly bitterly.

“There is an alternative,” she said. Rob frowned.

“What?”

“Well, why not go as a boy for a change. Oh, say you’ll go, and then have a migraine or a really rough period or something. Cry off at the last minute, and go to the ball as yourself. That way, you could perhaps allow Letty to see the real you. Not too much, just enough to excite her.”

“Theresa, you are a darling, why didn’t I think of it?”

“Because, contrary to appearances, you aren’t a woman.”

Rob hesitated, and turning, looked quite disappointed.

“I know. Sometime I really wish I were. I even looked into surgery. It’s expensive, but I think I could do it.”

“Would you really go that far?”

“Before I met Letty, I might have done. But now, Let’s just say, the jury’s out!”

Rob picked up his coat and bag, leaving the house with a spring in his step.
 

*          *          *
 
Pru opened a gummed up eye, and closed it again immediately. She groaned, her head hurt, her mouth tasted like a badger had used her tongue to lick its bottom, and her stomach was churning. She remembered arriving at Tony’s flat, and she remembered pulling the rug over her. The events of the dinner after the main course were hazy. She tried to remember what she’d eaten. The prawns had arrived while she was reasonably sober, but after that, she was unsure.

Bladder pressure determined she had to get up, so she staggered to the bathroom, collapsing with relief onto the toilet, having locked the door first.

Her dinner suit was crumpled and the shirt was ruined. Her sleeve was dry, but hideously stained. She washed her face, rinsing her mouth with some Listerine mouthwash that Tony kept by the basin. After combing her hair, she felt a little more human. Tony’s aftershave sat on the side. She picked it up. AU SAVAGE, she read, smiling at the analogy. Opening the top, she splashed a drop on her hand. Bringing her hand to her nose, she breathed in the scent, feeling mildly intoxicated, as it brought back memories of his closeness on the previous evening. However, guilt returned over her deceit, and she replaced the bottle on the side.

Returning to the sitting room, she found her jacket and put it on, hiding the worst stains. Just after she’d done that, Tony appeared clad only in his jockey shorts. His early morning erection was in evidence, and Pru looked away.

“Morning Peter, shit, that was a good night.”

“Morning. Yes, it was.”

Tony picked up his mail that was lying on the mat inside the front door. He unconsciously stuffed his right hand down the front of his shorts, scratching vigorously.

“Help yourself to coffee and stuff, I’m going to shave,” he said heading for the bathroom.

“Do you want one?” Pru asked as the door closed.

“Yeah, thanks, mate. One sugar and milk.”

Pru smiled and went to the small but very serviceable open plan kitchen area. She was impressed with how clean and tidy it was, wondering whether it actually got any use.

It took her a while to find everything, and she made two coffees. She poured a bowl of cereal and, on opening the milk, sniffed the bottle suspiciously. Not smelling sourness, she splashed some onto the cereal, and sat at the small table.

She looked round the flat, liking what she saw. Firstly, it was neat, and unlike her experience of bachelor pads, it was relatively dust and clutter free. Either he had a cleaner or he was house-proud. She suspected the former.

Secondly, it gave her a flavour of her host. The pictures were of country scenes, a fox hunt here, a pheasant standing in a snowy field over there, and of horses grazing and river craft gently rocking on their moorings.

There were no piles of papers, no dirty clothes on the floor, only a spic and span flat, maintained with almost military cleanliness. She saw in it a man who liked order in his life, and yet was more at home with functionable articles than with decoration. She smiled; he needed a woman in his life. It was at that moment she decided that that woman should be she.

Tony came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Pru simply handed him the mug of coffee, and finished her cereal.

“You found something to eat, well done.”

“I’m used to living in strange places. There is a limit to the places one can hide cornflakes.”

Tony chuckled, sifting through his post.

“No work today?” she asked.

“I work everyday, in different ways. I’ve a meeting with the bank at eleven, so I’ve half an hour. Fancy some lunch afterwards?”

“I’d better get back, Theresa and Katie will be worried about me.”

“Nonsense. I’ll wager that Katie and Letty are off shopping somewhere, and Theresa knows that boys will be boys!”

“I’ll just ring Katie, just to let her know I’m still alive.”

Pru dug her mobile out of her jacket pocket and rang her brother.

“Hi Peter, still alive?” Rob asked; the use or her masculine name telling Pru that he was with someone.

“Katie, I’m still with Tony, just in case you were worrying.”

“I was slightly apprehensive, but if he’d found out, you’d have come home in tears,” Pru now realised that whoever was with her brother was no longer in earshot.

“Not necessarily, I could have done the other,” Pru said smiling at Tony.

“The other? You mean gone to bed with him. How likely is that?”

“From where I’m standing, quite likely.”

“You mean he’s semi-naked and desirable?”

“Something like that. How did you get on?”

“We had fun. The chick-flick was interesting, you’d have liked it, but the company was superb.”

“What are you up to at the moment?”

“I’m shopping with Letty. We’ve been invited to a Spring Ball in a couple of weeks, and I’ve just found out it’s a themed fancy dress do.”

“What’s the theme?”

“Super heroes. You ought to see my Cat Woman outfit; it’s unbelievably sexy. You’ll have to go as Batman. You get to wear a plastic breastplate-like thing. Hide you know what.”

Pru laughed.

“I’ve been asked to have lunch with Tony. So I’ll see you later.”

“Shit girl, you’ll be marrying the sod next.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she said, looking at Tony.

“I’ll catch you later, Letty wants me to check her new underwear.”

“Take care, Katie.”

“I am, and it’s wonderful.”

She switched to phone off.

“Shopping?” asked Tony, without looking up.

“Shopping. You were right.”

“Naturally. So, how about I meet you at Simpson’s for a spot of lunch, at, say, one?”

“Simpsons? On the Strand?”

“Yup, one o’clock should be okay, but if you want I could make it later?”

“No, one’s fine. Thanks. I’d better be going.”

“Well, I’ll get dressed, I have to get to the City pretty damn sharpish. Stay if you want, or let yourself out, and I’ll meet you in Simpsons at one.”

“I will, and thanks for last night, it was fun.”

“Yes, it was. It was good of you to join me. Anyway, I’ll see you later.”

Tony smiled and wandered to his bedroom. Pru let herself out of the flat, making her way to the main road. Aware she was receiving more than one odd glance from passers by, she hailed a cab.

Fifteen minutes later, she arrived back at Elm Park Gardens, much to Theresa’s relief. She spent the next hour telling her of her exploits and her disquiet, as she peeled out of her ruined shirt.

“Don’t you find him attractive?” Theresa asked.

“That’s the problem, I do, far too attractive.”

“Then where’s the problem?”

“Theresa, it may have escaped your notice, but I’m supposed to be a man.”

“Oh, phooie, an incidental.”

Pru, grinning broadly, shook her head and went up to have a nice hot bath.

She was five minutes early at Simpsons. She’d dressed more casually, in a pair of dark grey flannel trousers, black brogues, a tweed sports jacket and a check shirt with an Indian Army tie. Unsure whether to go in and wait or to wait outside; she was dithering on the steps when Tony arrived.

“Hi, just got here?” he asked.

“Yup, was dithering. Didn’t know whether to go in and wait or what,” she said, quite honestly. “I’ve never been to any of these places before, so I feel rather out of my depth.”

Tony smiled sympathetically.

“My fault. I’ve had rather a privileged upbringing, so know all the best places. I, sort of, forget that most people haven’t the same experience as me, so, lets go in, I’m starving!”

It was yet another superb meal, and Pru felt very young and unsophisticated alongside this man. Although only four years older than she, Tony was so confidant and in control, she began to feel slightly in awe of him. He carried himself with similar airs and graces to her father. It was an air of natural superiority and command, yet he wasn’t arrogant of priggish.

He never talked down to the staff, as her father would, instead, he was pleasant and understanding. She could see how he must have been a good army officer, able to inspire his men through coming alongside them and leading by example. A real ‘come on’ rather than a ‘go on’ style of leader.

They chatted about many things. She asked him questions about his family and although he answered, he was unusual in that he turned the tables on her, and she found her sharing far more than she had intended. Most men she’d met were only too happy to talk about themselves. Tony was different, he appeared to be genuinely interested in her, and was a superb listener.

She was careful, never actually telling a lie. She might be living one, but she avoided telling anything that was not true.

“You’ve had a really diverse and unusual life, if I may say so.”

“I suppose I had, but it seemed normal to me at the time.”

“How do you feel about settling down in the UK? I take it that’s why you are here?”

“I rather like the idea of settling down. Katie loves the travelling round, and doesn’t seem to tire of the endless procession of temporary houses and apartments.”

“She’s young and female. She’ll find a good man, and she’ll soon change her mind.”

“Are you offering?” Pru asked, teasing him.

“Tempting, but I think she’d rather to independent for me. She’s very attractive and a charming girl, but somewhat too energetic for my liking.”

Pru looked carefully at him, trying to discern whether he was testing her or teasing. Of either, he gave no sign, appearing quite earnest in his demeanour.

“You seem to have her measure already. So what about me, what have you decided about me?” she asked.

Tony smiled.

“You, dear boy are somewhat of an enigma. One minute, I think I have you pegged, and then you say or do something that throws me completely. I confess that I find you fascinating. No doubt the product of your unique life experience.”

“I like to keep people guessing,” she said with a smile.

Tony nodded his head.

“Well, you’re succeeding.”

When it came time to pay, Pru offered to pay her half. Tony wouldn’t hear of it.

“My pleasure. When you are earning, next week, I’ll let you take me out to celebrate a weeks in employment, okay?”

He agreed, hoping that they’d still be friends in a week. She knew, from bitter experience, that her father’s plans meant that any friends she made were often lost in a matter of days, not weeks.

She returned to the house in Elm Park Gardens feeling very lost indeed. Tony had shaken her to the core, as she found she wanted him so much it almost hurt. She went to her room, stripped off all her male attire, and dressed as the woman she was.

Theresa was very surprised when a very elegant and beautifully made up Prudence joined her for tea, wearing an Italian dress and looking very attractive.

“Oho! Do I detect some of the sophistication of Peter has disappeared?”

“This is me, Theresa. This is who I am and who I want to be. Is it too much to ask?”

“Hopefully, you can be you very soon, my sweet.”

“Oh God! I bloody well hope so,” said Pru, very much the woman.
 

*          *          *
 
Rob and Letty, arm in arm, had visited so many shops that Rob’s head was spinning. They’d lunched on the run, continuing shopping up to nearly five o’clock. Letty was a professional shopper, and seemingly had no thought of expense. Rob, aware that the credit card he had was somewhat limited, was far more careful with what he bought. Carrying about twelve large carrier bags, they decided to call it a day, returning to Letty’s home.

Rob was feeling triumphant, for he knew that at no time did anyone suspect he was anything other than an attractive blonde girl on a shopping spree with a chum. More importantly, Letty hardly let go of his hand or arm all day. He found her such fun that all his worries about his father’s plans evaporated for a while.

Her father was out, or so the butler informed Letty as they arrived in an explosion of bags.

“He will be home late, Miss Letitia, and asks for you not to stay up for him. Will you be dining in, this evening?” he asked.

“Will you stay with me, Katie, just for supper? I hate being on my own.”

“I ought to get back, Theresa and Peter will be worried.”

“Please, we can try on the costumes,” Letty said, pleading.

Thoughts of Letty as Storm from the X-Men excited Rob sufficiently to persuade him.

“Oh, all right, but I don’t want to be late.”

“You won’t be, I promise. Thanks so much!”

Letty hugged Rob. He was finding it very hard to control his urge to do more than simply hug back. He forced himself to break the embrace, and carried the purchases up to Letty’s room. As Letty changed, to give her friend an impromptu fashion show, Rob called his sister.

“Hi Rob, how’s it going?” Pru asked. Rob instantly knew she had dropped being Peter, as her voice was soft and feminine.

“Fine. I’m having dinner with Letty at her place. Her dad’s out so she’s asked me to stay a while.”

“Did you have fun?”

“If watching Letty dress and undress all day can be considered fun, then yes, I have. Pru, my libido can’t take much more of this.”

Pru laughed.

“Then don’t see so much of her,” she advised.

“Pru, there’s very little of her I’ve not seen! We went to this one shop; it sold slinky underwear. I swear, she had nothing on other than a thong, and I had to just sit there and smile. It’s driving me potty!”

“Don’t come to me for sympathy; it’s all your own fault.”

“How did you get on with the yeti?”

“He’s not a yeti, he’s remarkably astute and charming.”

“Oh, touched a nerve, have I? You haven’t, Pru, have you?”

“Haven’t what?”

“Fallen in love, at last?”

Pru was silent. It was the first time that word had been spoken, and she now believed she might well have done.

“Oh my God, you have!” said Rob, in delight.

“Rob, it’s not that simple. He thinks I’m a man.”

“If you keep swooning every time he walks into a room, he’ll soon twig.”

“We have to stick to the plan.”

“Stuff the plan, go to him, girl!”

“I can’t, Daddy was quite clear.”

“Fucking Daddy doesn’t have to put up with all this shit,” Rob said. Pru knew that for all the bluster, even Rob wouldn’t defy their father. For no matter how strange and difficult their tasks had been over the last ten or fifteen years, there had always been good reasons for them, and in the end, it had been to their advantage.

“Don’t be late, we should talk,” Pru said.

“I won’t, I promise.”

He kept his promise, for after a light supper with Letty, he made his excuses and left, returning to Elm Park gardens once more.
 
 
Chapter 7 - Tremaine Industries
 
 
Monday morning saw the Marriotts up early, preparing for their first day at work at Tremaine Tower, in the City of London. Pru was wearing a dark pinstripe suit, a pale blue shirt with white cuffs and collar, a tie from the Punjab Cricket Club, and her black brogues, highly polished.

Rob, on the other hand, looked every inch the sophisticated female executive. Having had a little help, his hair was up, his makeup was exquisite and he looked absolutely stunning in a black pencil skirt, dark stockings, a cream blouse and a gorgeous bolero style jacket with black velvet collar. With an ornate cravat in turquoise at his throat, with matching turquoise earrings, necklace, brooch and ring on his right ring finger. Theresa shook her head, as from the tip of his varnished toenails to the top of his head, he looked the most perfect girl that had ever graced the front of many a fashion magazine.

“Oh dear, you look ravishing, and yet there is something distinctly unfair about it,” she said.

“Why?” asked Rob, as he tried to eat toast without smudging his perfect lips.

“Because there are real girls who would sell their souls to look like you.”

Rob chuckled, giving her a coy look.

“You never know, I might just cross to the light side of the force,” he said.

Pru rolled her eyes. They’d had a quiet weekend, but to her consternation, Rob elected to remain as Katie the whole time, despite Pru relaxing as herself.

They’d spent much of the time talking. Rob admitted he was seriously concerned about his gender identity and his sexuality. Pru expected it, but was at a loss to know what to say.

“I just am so at home as a girl. It’s like it’s become the real me, and the boy has taken second place.”

“You do seem to spend more time as a girl. You don’t have to right now, for example,” she said.

“I know, but Letty could come round, and I can’t afford to be caught on the hop.”

“That’s a crap excuse, and you know it!”

Rob had smiled, but was still serious.

“It’s like if I had the right bits, I’d be happy to go to bed with a man. I just don’t feel I could with my male stuff. I know I’m not gay!”

Pru had smiled.

“What about going to bed with Letty?”

“Yup, I could do that,” he said with a grin.

“If you were a girl?”

He paused.

“I still think I could. Shit, I am gay!”

“No, you’re just fucked up. The sooner we get back to normal, the better.”

“What’s normal, Pru?” he’d asked, his voice that of a young girl.

“Take away the clothes, the make up and the pretence, that’s normal.”

“We’d be a bit cold, wouldn’t we, sis?”

They’d both laughed, but Pru was seriously worried about her brother.

However, now on this Monday morning, the pretence was still holding firm. They arrived at the vast glass and steel edifice, not far from St. Paul’s Cathedral, at eight forty exactly. They walked into the huge reception area together, and Pru noticed that virtually all the male eyes turned and locked in on her little brother.

“Peter and Katherine Marriott to see Jonathon Fletcher,” Pru said to the girl at the desk. She smiled and rang through to the HR Manager.

Jon Fletcher was twenty-eight and going places. He’d been with Tremaine Industries for six years, ever since graduating with his degree in HR and business management. He was five eight, slim and very fit, as he played squash three times a week and soccer every Sunday. He had not had the privileged education of Tony, as he’d worked hard at the comprehensive school in Edmonton, north London, and earned his place at university through that hard work.

With short dark brown hair and quite sharp features, he had a reputation of being ruthlessly ambitious and also slightly predatory with the girls.

He was informed of the arrival of two new people, a brother and sister who’d been recruited in Europe for posts in the legal department and in languages. He asked the receptionist to send them up to the small conference room on his floor, the seventh.

It was his task to welcome them to the company, arrange for any training, and see to their documentation, for tax and pensions, for example.

He left his office, reading their files. There wasn’t much in them, just a note on each from the man in Italy, stating that they were ideally qualified for the posts and the company would be foolish to pass them up.

He was still reading when he entered the conference room. Looking up he almost dropped the folders. For seated in a chair, with the most wonderful legs crossed, was the single most attractive girl he’d ever seen.

Standing behind her was a young man, one hand in his immaculate suit pocket, looking calm and collected.

His eyes returned to the girl. She smiled, and warmth seemed to radiate outwards from her. Jon, feeling his loins stirring, shifted uncomfortably.

“Ah, Peter and Katherine Marriott?” he stammered.

“Katie,” said Rob, his voice all husky and sultry.

“Katie,” he repeated, mesmerised by her crystal blue eyes.

“Please call me Katie, it is less stuffy.”

“Katie,” he said, feeling foolish for repeating it again.

Pru smiled and had to glance away. Rob was going straight for the jugular, or rather the penis. He was at his most outrageous, flirting and showing his very obvious cleavage at every opportunity.

Jon did his best. He welcomed them to the company, arranging for two junior clerks to show them to their new departments after the documentation formalities were complete. However, it had to be said, his mind was not on the job at hand. His one regret was that she was to be working in a department with which he seldom had contact. Only on those rare occasions when he was dealing with persons with no English would he consider calling on their services.

He watched the girl walk away, unable to take his gaze from her wonderful buttocks. He had to go to the lavatory and masturbate, as such was the effect she’d had on him.

“You’re a tart!” Pru hissed at her brother as they entered the lift with two girls instructed to take them to their respective departments.

“He didn’t check the papers,” he whispered back, and Pru had to concede the point. Under normal circumstances, the HR manager would scrupulously check and scrutinise all documentation. Jon had simply transferred all the details without question.

Pru and her guide exited the elevator when it stopped at the twelfth floor, leaving Rob and the other girl to go on upwards. Rob smiled at the girl.

“Have you worked here long?” he asked.

“No Miss, just a few weeks.”

“What’s with this ‘Miss’ shit? My name’s Katie.”

The girl smiled uncertainly.

“I’m Amy Johnson. We’re not meant to call you by your first name.”

“Why not? It’s not the army.”

“Mr Hatton believes that an organisation has to have levels of attainment, and that certain distinctions are necessary to give those below targets to strive for.”

“What utter bollocks, who’s this Hatton character?”

“He’s the senior M D, Miss.”

“Stuff him, I’m Katie, okay Amy?”

Amy smiled, a little broader this time.

“Thanks, Katie. I don’t think you’ll fit in with Mr Hatton’s ideas.”

“Well, if Mr Hatton doesn’t fit in with me, he’ll just have to go!”

The girl laughed this time, ceasing abruptly as the elevator stopped and the door opened. Amy led the way down to a large office with several people working in compartmentalised cubicles.

A larger area at the end had a huge desk and behind the desk sat a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and slight paunch. Ronald McMillan had been headhunted for the company from an independent translators company based in Brussels. Having worked in the business for many years, he recognised a good deal when presented with one. He’d set up the department in just five months, and Katherine Marriott was his latest acquisition.

A mutual business associate in Italy recommended her to him. Georges Lassard, their representative in Paris had arranged a meeting with her and strongly recommended her to him. He’d accepted and offered her a job. It was coincidence, but her brother was offered a job with the legal department, on another recommendation by the original associate.

Amy left with a quick smile at the smart Miss Marriott.

“Miss Marriott, welcome to Tremaine. You come highly recommended,” he said, shaking her finely manicured hand. He was mildly surprised by her firm handshake, somehow doubting that someone as attractive as she was could possibly have any strength.

“Thanks for the welcome. I’m sure I can pay my way.”

Ronald took her to meet the others in the department, and showed her to her compartment.

“These look frightful, but actually you will need the privacy. With all the translation and interpreting we have to do, we do need some privacy.”

“We do interpreting from here?” she asked.

“Oh yes. We have hot lines coming straight in from wherever our chaps and chapesses are. We even have videophones and live web-cams for special jobs. There are three special video conferencing suites, whereby we can sit in on conferences involving as many as they have equipment. We never really need go anywhere.”

“Impressive,” said Rob, actually impressed for a change.

“So, what’s your speciality, apart from looking amazing?” asked Ronald, appreciating this remarkably attractive girl.

“Actually, I specialise in the one to one situation,” ‘Katie’ said, making Ronald feel rather warm all of a sudden.

“Actually, I’m better in the spontaneous interpreting situation, I get rather bored with endless tracts of translation. Give me an unrehearsed job any day.”

They talked techniques and languages for a while, and Ronald was more than impressed with both her attitude and apparent ability. He asked her to listen to a couple of tapes and translate as they ran. She managed French, Italian and Arabic all very easily. When she told him of the languages she could speak fluently, and then those she had a good working knowledge of, he was doubly impressed.

After an hour, she was allowed to settle into her cubicle, arranging whatever equipment she required from the stationary and computer supplies.

Meanwhile, a few floors below her, Peter Marriott was settling into the legal department. His function was to scrutinise legal contracts and other documents with a view to ascertaining company liability and responsibility in each one. He reported to the company lawyers who worked in the same office, but as he specialised in international law, his knowledge seemed to be greater than theirs in certain areas.

They met for lunch in the executive (class three) dining room. Top management were class one, departmental bosses were class two, they were class three, and then there was the canteen for the rest.

“Well, what’s your lot like?” Pru asked.

“Okay. Ronald is my boss, and I think the only one. He’s a big softy, good at organising things, but not frightfully good as a people person. It’s a good department as far as technology goes. I haven’t met many of the others yet. How about you?”

“The lawyers are okay, a bit ignorant about certain aspects of international law, but it’s a new department, so we’re all learning together. I have a free rein and just have to check through documents and pass them on to the lawyers for final approval.”

“Dull, you mean?”

Pru smiled.

“Absolutely, but it’s not as if it’s for very long.”

“I wish we knew what we were doing here, it’s not like him to keep us in the dark for as long as this.”

“Patience, dear girl,” said Pru as a couple of young men approached the table.

“Hi, we understand you’ve just joined the company, so we thought we’d come over and welcome you,” the taller one said to the siblings, although he was only looking at Katie.

‘Katie’ smiled that smile of hers and oozed charm and sex.

“Yup, we started today. I’m Katie and this is my brother Peter. I’m in languages and he’s joined the legal department.”

“I’m Hugh Crossman,” the taller one said. “I’m in marketing.”

“Gary Birch. Logistics.”

They shook hands. Pru had to keep from smiling too much, as the guys were falling over themselves to get close to her brother. ‘Katie’ invited them to sit at their table. They almost fought over the seat next to her.

The lunch break ended, and the men left.

“You really are a dreadful tart!” Pru muttered.

“You’re only jealous,” Rob replied.

“Yes, maybe, but it isn’t natural.”

“Don’t go there, Pru, I’m only too well aware it’s not.”

They returned to their offices, and so began a routine that stretched into the next few days and then weeks. Brother and sister became settled and indeed, were very soon accepted as part of the furniture. In the legal department, Peter Marriott was considered a bit of a wizard in his field, and even the lawyers treated him with respect. So much so that the senior solicitor advised the young man to consider further qualifications to become a solicitor. He even offered him special facilities to study in company time, and to sponsor him through his articles.

Pru, lacking any direction to the contrary, accepted and found herself very busy indeed. The work wasn’t hard, but the exam was a few months away, and she had a lot of ground to cover. The Harvard qualification was genuine, but she lacked experience and knowledge of English law.

Meanwhile, her brother, in the guise of the sexy Katie, was having a ball. Selected by many of the senior management to accompany them on business trips across Europe, he was rarely in the country for more than a few days at a time. Each man attempted to woo Katie and get her to go to bed with them, and each one went away disappointed, but ever hopeful.

‘Katie’ never turned them down flat, she simply postponed their ardour.

At home, he spent most of his free time with Letty. They had grown very close over the weeks, and as the evening for the Spring Ball approached, Letty’s excitement became infectious. She arranged a dinner part at her house for fourteen. It included, of course, Tony Fanshaw and the Marriotts, amongst others. Tony was disinclined to accept, believing that fancy dress parties were a trifle juvenile. However, when he realised that Peter and Katie were going, he changed his mind.

“What costume have you chosen, Pete?” he asked.

“Ah, that’s supposed to be secret.”

“Don’t be an arse, come on, which one?”

“Batman.”

“I have a suggestion.”

“What?”

“Be Robin to my Batman?”

Pru smiled. Any day, she thought.

“Why should I?”

“I wouldn’t make a good Robin, and you’ve more his build.”

“Alright.”

So Tony changed Pru’s plans, and, as it happened, they made a very good pair when they went down to the costume shop. Pru had to admit that Tony made a far better Batman than she ever would.

Tony had been conspicuous by his absence over the weeks since the Marriotts started work. He had to return to his farms and do some work for a change. In fact, he’d not been in touch at all, and Pru was feeling neglected, despite knowing that there was no reason for her to do so.

On the evening of the party, Tony phoned to say he was delayed, and Pru found herself fretting that he wasn’t coming at all.

“Pru, calm down,” said Rob, as he squeezed into his Cat Woman outfit.

“I can’t, I’m confused. It’s as if he knows. Rob, and is testing me.”

“He doesn’t know. Here, do me up, there’s a love.”

Pru laced her brother into the suit. With his hip and bum padding, silicone boobs and tight lacing, he was real competition for Michelle Pfiffer.

“Wow, I hope I don’t have to eat too much, otherwise there will be a serious rending of something, and I hope it’ll be the costume and not me.”

“I can’t believe the way you look. What the hell have you done with your dick?”

“Don’t ask. I don’t think the little sod will ever be the same again!”

“I thought that you might try to go as yourself. I’m pleased you’re being sensible.”

Rob’s smile alerted her to feel disquiet all of a sudden.

“Oh, Rob, what are you planning?”

“When I hired this, I asked how many other Cat Women are going to be there. It seems that I will be one of five or six. So, after the first hour, I’ll sneak away, change into my other costume, and return to win the hand of fair Letty.”

“Oh Rob, you can’t!”

“I can, and must. Pru, if I don’t do this, and do it now, I will be stuck as Katie, and may never want to go back. I need to be me, at least for a while.”

Pru was silent. She agreed wholeheartedly that he needed to break from being female. However, she had serious reservations about doing so in such a public forum.

Rob nodded, seeing her agreement.

“Thanks, Sis, you know I have to do this?”

Pru nodded, giving Rob a hug.

Pru then changed and put on a long overcoat. Rob was wearing thigh length black PVC boots with six-inch stiletto heels. He looked simply gorgeous, and there was no one who would ever dream he was male. Even his cleavage, displayed by the suit to leave little for the imagination, seemed perfectly natural.

His hair, streaming our from under his mask, shone as a luxurious golden ray of sunshine.

“This fucking tail is going to piss me off,” he said, tripping over it for the third time going down the stairs.

Theresa watched them descend to the hall. Her eyes noted Rob’s amazing shape. She arched an eyebrow.

“So, you’ve decided to stay like this?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t. I may, but I have to know for certain.”

Theresa exchanged glances with Pru who shook her head.

“Bugger!” said Rob, dashing upstairs again, or as fast as his heels and tail allowed him to. He returned a few seconds later carrying a holdall.

Pru raised her eyebrows in silent query.

“My alternate costume,” he explained.

“Oh, and which hero are you going as?”

“Ah, that really is a surprise.”

“Your cab is here,” said Theresa. “You two have a lovely time, and don’t do anything too silly.”

“We won’t. At least I don’t intend to,” Pru said, helping Rob put his coat on.
 
 
Chapter 8 - Of Masks and Mystery
 
 
Letty opened the door to them herself.

“Katie! You look fantastic,” she squealed, giving Rob a huge hug and a kiss, making Pru’s eyebrows elevate yet again.

She had a white long wig on, and had darkened her face to look very like Halle Berry in the X-Men movie. The silver contact lenses were the most surreal effect, and her black outfit accentuated her trim little figure.

“Hi Peter,” she said, slightly subdued.

“Hello Letty, is Tony here yet?”

Rob smirked behind his whiskers and mask.

“He called. He’s on his way, but might miss the first course.”

Pru relaxed a little.

Letty led them through to the large drawing room. All bar Tony gathered there, all looking self conscious in their super hero outfits. There was a very tall but rather thin Superman, Green Lantern was by the fire, trying to look casual and relaxed but failing miserably. Wonder Woman was sitting on the sofa, trying not to show she felt she was overexposed. Captain America looked more like Corporal Oxfam, and Pru laughed out loud when she saw one man dressed as Danger Mouse, complete with huge white ears.

“Don’t we all look completely ridiculous?” she said. However, she realised that none of them were listening to her. They were all watching Rob’s entry to the room. He’d taken his coat off, and had adopted that sexy walk again. He had tried not to, but the heels were so high it just seemed to happen. The costume was so tight she was waiting for a ripping noise.

“Hello everyone, don’t we look silly?”

Vigorous male head shook with disagreement. Pru had to admit, her little brother stole the show.

Cocktails were served. Pru was careful with what she drank. She noted with interest that Rob was doing the same. They all went into the dining room and sat round the enormous oval table, capable of seating more than twenty people with ease.

The starters were fresh oysters, which a couple of the party refused. Pru and Rob, having eaten many things that would not strictly be classified as food, ate them with no hesitation.

As the plates were being cleared away, Bat Man appeared, looking faintly jaded.

“Sorry I’m late, minor crisis on the farm,” he said, taking his seat opposite Pru.

“I’m relieved to see you. I didn’t want to be half a double act,” she said.

Tony smiled, taking his mask off.

“God, that thing is hot! Gosh, don’t you all look, look, um, look different.”

The ice was broken, but Pru noted that Tony did more than glance at Rob.

“Well, if I had to judge the best costume here, it would be hard, but I think Cat Woman wins, out of sheer eroticism,” he said.

Rob turned to him and blew him a kiss.

“Meeeow,” he said, flicking his tail and stroking his whiskers.

It was a very good meal, but Pru noticed that Tony drank quite heavily. Not that he was excessive, but certainly wouldn’t be safe to drive.

At a little after ten, the butler announced that the bus had arrived. Pru hadn’t even thought that far ahead, but now saw it as the only logical answer to get them all there at the same time.

The Hurlingham Club was deep in true blue Chelsea, being a large old manor house in superb grounds that was now set-aside for tennis and other gentle pursuits.

The party arrived and started to mingle with the other guests. Letty grabbed her friend Katie and taking her onto the dance floor, ensured that every male saw the exquisite couple right from the start.

Needless to say, neither was without willing partners for long. After forty minutes, ‘Katie’ excused herself to go to the Ladies.

Collecting her bag from where he had hidden it earlier, Rob disappeared across the lawns to a small pavilion by the bowling green.

Taking the Cat Woman suit off was harder than he had anticipated. He was suddenly worried about getting back into it later. However, he succeeded, and using the makeup remover, he wiped Katie away completely, taking off his false black varnished nails using the appropriate remover.
 

*          *          *
 
Letty was standing by the bar with Tony.

“Isn’t this fun?”

“If you say so,” said Tony, looking at the fools cavorting in capes and silly masks.

“Oh, Tony, stop being such a party pooper. Why don’t you go and dance with Katie?”

“Katie is doing fine without me,” he said, disliking being bullied into doing things.

“I think you and she would make a perfect couple.”

“Letty, your choice of men has, up to this point, been completely inappropriate, so please, spare me the marital advice.”

Letty, not taking the slightest offence, grinned and continued.

“She’s very attractive, she’d intelligent, she’s quick and quite a strong person. She’d make you an excellent wife.”

“She’s also fashion conscious, highly hyperactive, career minded, independent and too young for me.”

“So, who else could you marry? You’ve turned nearly everyone else down.”

Tony watched as Pru left the dance floor leading Wonder Woman towards where they were standing.

“I am in no rush, child. The woman I marry will be loyal, attractive without being chocolate-box pretty, dependable, intelligent, physically and emotionally strong. In short, she will be prudence personified.”

This said just as Pru came within earshot, and despite herself she started to blush.

“Hot, young Peter?”

“Just a bit,” she replied, grateful for the excuse.

“I was trying to persuade Tony to dance with Katie. Where is she?” Letty asked.

“I have no idea, I last saw her dancing with Inspector Gadget,” said Pru.

“Then Tony will have to dance with me,” she said.

“My dear girl, I should be delighted to dance with you, when hell freezes over.”

Letty stamped her foot.

“Oh Tony, you can be so boring.”

“Excusez moi, madamoiselle, would you do me the honour of accompanying me onto the floor?” said a new voice.

All turned to see whom it could be.

Standing a little in the shadows, was a slim young man dressed in black. With a tricorn hat, black mask, riding breeches and highly polished riding boots gleaming in the flashing lights. A sword was strapped to his waist, the tip peeping out from under his black frock coat. Blue eyes shone through the holes in the black velvet mast, as if mocking convention. He bowed low, sweeping his hat under him. He had long fair hair, tied back in a small ponytail with a length of black ribbon.

He handed Letty a single white rose.

Letty clapped her hands with delight.

“I’d love to, how wonderful!”

“Excuse me, young fellow, but I thought this was a theme party,” said Tony.

“Sir, you are quite correct. You see me as the latest Super Hero, HIGHWAY-MAN,” he said, bowing his head at Tony.

“Oh, very droll,” said Tony with a chuckle.

“Mademoiselle?” said the unknown, holding his arm for her.

“One moment. I have decided to take the lady for a dance,” said Tony.

Pru held her breath.

The shorter man took a half pace backwards, looking as if he were about to draw the sword.

“Sir, then the lady shall decide. Ma chéri, which shall be your partner?”

Letty’s eyes glinted in the lights. It might only be in Chelsea and not a Castle, but this was what romance was all about. It was no contest, as a few moments later, the unknown led her onto the floor.

Pru came over to Tony.

“Never mind, you can have the next one,” she said.

“Piffle. I can’t stand dancing, I didn’t want the bloody dance, but I just wanted her to feel a bit of competition.”

Pru laughed.

“You are a very strange man.”

“Oh, how so?” asked Tony.

“Sometimes you pretend to be so grown up.”

He laughed.

“Well done, you are more astute than you appear, young Peter.”

“So are you, Tony, so are you.”
 

*          *          *
 
Letty was enjoying the dance. For unlike the others who stood back and gyrated madly, he took her in his arms and waltzed her around with flowing grace.

“This is such fun,” she said.

“It certainly is.”

“Have you danced with many girls tonight?”

“I came to dance with but one, and my ambition is achieved.”

Letty grinned, aware this was so silly, but it made her go all tingly.

“I feel I know you, who are you?” she said.

“Aha, how can you ask that? Where is the romance in discovering your secret admirer’s identity, Letitia?”

Letty frowned, as this was so frustrating. He knew her name, yet she didn’t know who he was.

“Are you?”

“Am I what, ma chéri?"

“Are you my secret admirer?”

“Can you doubt it?”

“You can’t be very secret if I can see you.”

“Ah, but you may see me and never know me. That is my secret.” His eyes laughed at her from behind the mask.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you, and am here to tell you that I shall be watching over you. At the right time, I shall be there for you, and when I come for you, you will come with me.”

There was such certainty in his voice that Letty was captivated.

“How can you love me, you don’t know me?”

“I know you so well, ma chéri, I have loved you for many days, and hope in time you shall come to love me too.”

“I will wait for midnight, when the masks come off. Then I shall know you!”

“I shall not be here. As I said, I came for one dance, and now, I shall say farewell. Remember, I love you.”

The unknown took her hands and kissed them, finally kissing her on the lips.

“How will I know you?” she asked, afraid he was going to go away forever.

He opened his shirt and she saw, lying on his bare chest, a medallion of a Chinese dragon.

“This is the only one of its kind in the world. I will always wear it for you.”

One more kiss and he was gone.

Letty sought out Katie to tell her about the unknown. She found so many Cat Women that she became frustrated. She returned to the bar to find Tony still there.

“Tony, have you seen Katie?”

“Why, should I have done?”

“On Tony, you can be such an arse at times.”

“No, Letty, I haven’t. At least I don’t think I have. A woman in a suit like hers past me going to the loo a few minutes ago.”

Letty grinned. “Where’s Peter? It seems strange not seeing him with you, you’re like Siamese twins these days.”

She didn’t see it, but a slow flush rose in Tony’s face.

“I have no idea, I assumed he was off trying to fight the strange little man for your hand.”

Letty smiled and walked off in search of her friend, Katie. She couldn’t wait to tell her about the mysterious highwayman.

In the pavilion, Pru was lacing Rob back into the suit.

“You are a fool,” she said.

“Yes, dear.”

“A stupid romantic fool.”

“If you say so,” he said, grinning.

“There, not quite as tight as before. Are your boobs okay?”

Rob juggled them about.

“Yeah, I think so. How do I look?”

“Fine. You should have got a less fiddly costume.”

“Now she tells me.”

“Okay, come on, let’s get back before they miss us. Letty will be looking for you, you realise that?”

“Of course.”

Pru smiled.

“Does this mean that the boy is winning?

“Possibly,” he said, grinning again.

“Are the nails on tightly?” she asked.

“They’ll do.”

They tripped across the lawns, keeping into the shadows, entering the house by a side door. Rob grinned as his stiletto heels kept getting stuck in the grass. Tony was still by the bar, talking to an acquaintance. Pru, nodding at her brother, made her way over to his side. Rob took a different path, ending up at the Ladies.

“Ah, Boy Wonder, Letty is after your sister, any idea where she is?”

“She muttered something about the loo, cursing long queues and bloody silly costumes.”

“Ah, that explains it. Enjoying yourself?”

“I suppose so. I have to admit that these aren’t really my cup of tea. It’s fun seeing people making complete cocks of themselves.”

“Us included, dear boy, us too,” said Tony swirling his Bat Cape.

Letty found Katie as she came out of a cubicle in the Ladies.

“Oh, there you are, I’ve been looking for you for ages. You’ll never guess what has just happened.”

Rob smiled and repaired his makeup in the mirror. The quick change had been just about adequate, but there was much to do. The mask did him a favour, but still he was hard pushed to get things back to the way they’d been.

“No, I don’t think I can guess, so tell me.”

Letty was so excited, the words spilled over themselves as they came out in such a rush. She told her friend all about the mysterious swordsman, who had spoken to her in French, and expressed his love for her, even though she didn’t know who he was.

“Sounds a little potty to me. You must have some idea who he is?”

Letty shook her head, her white wig shimmering in the lights.

“I thought it could be Richard Venner, but I saw him snogging with Adele Mitchum. He’s dressed as Banana Man, in any case. His voice was rather like George Kaye, but George is a good three of four inches taller. I really don’t have a clue, isn’t it romantic?”

“If that’s what you want. Personally, I like my men where I can see them,” Rob said, finishing with the lipstick. “Be a love, and tighten up my laces at the back, I just can’t reach.”

Letty helped her friend adjust the costume, unaware she was helping Rob with his deception. Satisfied that the costume and makeup were as good as they could be, Rob and Letty rejoined the party, their arms around each other’s waists. Rob dragged a reluctant Tony onto the floor, and Pru danced with Letty. However, the latter kept looking around in the vain hope of catching a glimpse of her unknown admirer.

Tony wasn’t a natural dancer. Being such a tall man, he was neither graceful nor was he that well coordinated, at least not for dancing. Rob realised he wasn’t enjoying himself, and so took pity on him.

“My corset is killing me, would you mind if we sat this out?” he said.

Tony looked positively delighted, leading his partner gallantly from the floor. Sipping cold drinks, they watched the dancers for a moment.

“What’s Letty in a spin about? She came out with some drivel about a secret admirer.”

“Ah, you were otherwise indisposed, but a strange young man came and spirited her away for a dance claiming undying love for her. Knowing Letty as you do, you’ll understand that it is just the sort of stupidity she goes in for. Now she’s all agog to find out who the chap is.”

“Do you know who he is?”

“I? Good God, no. Only saw him for a moment, and with the costume and mask, haven’t the foggiest.”

“I think it’s quite sweet and romantic.”

“He’s probably a serial rapist, lining up his next victim.”

Rob laughed out of genuine humour. Tony smiled, the smile developing into a grin.

Rue and Letty appeared.

“It’s no good, she’s not with it at all. She keeps looking for her admirer,” Pru remarked.

The music ended, the lights came up and the host stood on the small stage with the DJ. Taking the microphone, he started speaking.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. Midnight is upon us, and it is time to judge the costumes and unmask. The judges have been circulating all evening, surreptitiously, but to give them a better idea, I’d like you all to split into ladies on the left and gents on the right of the hall.”

Letty and Rob went to the left, as the judges circulated amongst everyone.

After a few minutes, they congregated by the host, conferring with each other.

“It has been amazingly hard to select winners, because everyone has put in such tremendous effort, and really we’d love to reward you all. However, we have the winners! For the ladies, from incredibly stiff competition, notwithstanding there were several sharing the same character, it is Cat Woman - The one standing with Batman and Robin, appropriately enough. For the judges decided that the dynamic duo should share the prize for the men. So all three of you, please come up and collect your prizes.”

Letty squealed with delight as her friends walked up to collect their prizes. Pru was aware that Tony was terribly embarrassed under his mask. She had to admit that the man was so big, so well built, that he cut a very dashing and imposing figure. Their costumes were based on the movie costumes and not the TV series of the 1960s.

Rob collected a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, while the men were handed a very nice bottle of champagne. There followed the unmasking, and after that people started drifting away.

Rob and Pru said goodnight to their friends, and caught a cab home. Letty went to bed, but couldn’t sleep because her mind was focussed on her admirer. Tony sat in his armchair, a frown upon his face signifying he was a troubled man. He went to his computer and started searching in the Internet. He was there a long time, but by six in the morning, he went to bed with a small smile on his face.

“Well, well, well, that is very interesting,” he said, as he fell asleep.
 
 
Chapter 9 - Complications
 
 
Rob and Pru went back to work on Monday morning, the excitement of the weekend behind them. Tony went back to his farms, and Letty enrolled on a creative writing course.

On the top floor of Tremaine Tower, Michael Hatton was not a happy man. His office was vast, taking almost a quarter of the entire top floor. What wasn’t glass was wood panelling, and the desk was slightly smaller than an aircraft carrier. Embedded in the desk were essential pieces of information technology, without which he would find running the vast business empire very hard.

He wasn’t a good-looking man, but he exuded an air of power and strength. Almost completely bald, he kept what little hair he had left cropped very short. At fifty-seven, he was overweight and not terribly fit. Preferring to spend his leisure time relaxing with either his wife or his mistress, and rarely undertaking any strenuous exercise.

“What do you mean, you can’t find him?” he asked.

“I’m sorry sir, but the trail went cold in Geneva about four weeks ago,” said the man dressed in a black suit.

“Bloody hell, Ryan, what the hell am I paying you for?”

“Sir, with respect, he was onto us as soon as we picked him up.” Ryan Grover was a private investigator. He’d been a detective with the Metropolitan Police. However, he’d undertaken various covert and wholly unauthorised investigations on behalf of a much younger Mike Hatton, resulting in enormous financial advantage for the latter, and a requirement to resign for Ryan.

Mike had looked after the man, and he continued to produce excellent results until now.

“You didn’t go to Geneva?” Mike asked.

“He knows me, I had my best team onto him. He’s a slippery bastard. I had a man in the Zurich Bank, just in case, and we got lucky. It’s the first sighting in six years. I picked him up in New Zealand, to lose him almost immediately, and rumour has it he was in America a few years ago.”

“What about his bloody kids?”

“Nothing. They weren’t in Geneva with him, that much we do know.”

“Could they be in the country already?”

“No. I’ve a contact with Special Branch, and another with the Immigration service. I have the Tremaine name flagged. If anyone tries to enter the country with that name, I’ll know. All the airline passenger lists are screened.”

“What about false passports, or ferries and the bloody tunnel?”

“That’s always possible. There was a chance they could actually manage to find employment with this company. We’ve acquired the boy’s fingerprints from a house in Adelaide. We’ve checked all male employees in that age bracket against these prints, and nothing.”

Mike stood up from behind his desk and walked over to the window. Without turning round, he continued speaking.

“We made a mistake not taking care of business twenty five years ago.”

“We thought we had.”

“Yes, but we were too fucking slow. He managed to leave the country.”

“He can’t come back, there’s the embezzlement charges to face.”

“Which we generated. He’s had twenty-five bloody years. What the hell’s he been doing in that time?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Shit! Why now of all times? Just as the Tech -American group are offering the best takeover bid I’ve ever seen on a table.”

Ryan wisely kept silent.

“What can he do to us?”

“Not a lot, unless he has any of the documents from the original Tremaine Brothers Ltd. Apart from the original accounts we altered to make it look like he’d stolen the money, there isn’t anything.”

“I still find it had to believe he just walked in and took the fucking things from under our noses,” Mike said, thinking back to those days when he decided to shift power and wealth in his favour. His cousin Robert had inherited the company and most of the stocks and shares. The bloody Tremaines had always had one over on the Hattons, who, being cousins had always been involved in the running of the company, but never at the top.

It had been in the seventies during the recession. Robert had left the UK to try to find new markets and workforces in the Far East. While he was gone, Mike had used Ryan to dig some dirt on a competitor, and managed to frame his cousin for an embezzlement of  £250,000 during the acquisition of said company. When Robert returned he was arrested for the offence and bailed pending further enquiries.

The only evidence that would support Robert’s defence was the company accounts. Mike had provided altered accounts as being the genuine article, intending to dispose of the others as soon as possible. However, inexplicably, as they all thought Robert had breached his bail conditions and fled the company, the accounts went missing from the company safe. The only other person, apart from Mike, who knew the combination, was Robert.

The security officer claim that no one looking like Mr Tremaine had gone anywhere near the safe. The only people who’d been in the building were some office cleaners and some typists.

Mike believed that Robert must have disguised himself, but had no concrete evidence. The alternate explanation was that an office worker, unaware of their importance, accidentally disposed of them. As time went by, Mike was less inclined to believe the former story as he thought that Robert would have been anxious to prove his innocence.

“I have to go to Paris at the weekend. I need to know that we’re safe for the meeting next week with Tech -American.”

“We’re safe. Everyone in the company is screened, and I’m happy I can vouch for all employees. He can’t have anyone on the inside.”

“The only other way he can get to us is through the shareholders. I want you to get a list of all the major shareholders, sort out where they are and they are who they say they are. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to buy up as many shares as he can and open a take-over bid at the next meeting.”

“Yes sir.”

“We should have killed him, you know that?”

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing, sir.”

“Get on, let’s do what we need to do.”
 

*          *          *
 
Graham Goodyer was a barrister. He was a good one, and was attached to the Serious Fraud Office in London. As part of the Home Office, the SFO comprised of lawyers and detectives, as well as accountants and other specialists who were experts in the field of business and commerce. It was in this area that multi-million pound swindles took place on a daily basis, and because the perpetrators were highly connected, professional, respectable men and women; tracing and arresting them was exceptionally difficult.

His first appointment of the day was a Colonel Fabio Metatucci of the Italian Carabinieri. The letter had mentioned something about a British Company that may be responsible for high profile bribes in connection with EU contracts.

The man ushered into his office was almost exactly what Graham had expected. Although not tall, the Italian was very distinguished, with an immaculate suit and expensive shoes. He displayed a pent up energy and an air of command if not patrician arrogance. His hair was greying at the temples and his nose was slightly hooked, in the Roman tradition.

Graham stood up, and offered the man his hand. They shook, and the Italian had a firm dry shake. Graham noticed the man wore a Rolex wristwatch.

“Colonel, I am delighted to meet you, please sit down.”

“Thank you, Mr Goodyer.” The Italian sat, holding a manila folder across his knee.

“Now, how can we help each other, as that was what was in your letter?”

The Colonel smiled and opened the folder. Selecting five sheets of paper, he passed them over to Graham.

“You are familiar with the Tremaine Industries?” he asked, his accent distinct, yet his English was impeccable.

“I am, yes. Are they responsible or suspected?”

“Please, just read.”

Graham did, and started to frown. He read all the documents, and looking up appeared confused.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

The Colonel handed over three more sheets of paper.

Graham took them, and read them carefully.

“I don’t see the connection, Colonel.”

“Mr Goodyer, I have to admit to a small deception. Had I given my real name, you would not have given me your valuable time, and we’d be going through a wearisome procedure involving the boys in blue. You have in your hands the original accounts of Tremaine Brothers Ltd, prior to the acquisition of Stamford and Grant Ltd in 1979. There is also the itinerary and hotel bills showing clearly that at the time of the alleged offence I, Robert Tremaine was not in the country, and had neither the means, motive or opportunity to undertake such that is alleged against me.

“Secondly, I have here a set of photographs, taken by a trusted colleague of mine, showing my cousin Michael Hatton and another man, Ryan Grover whom, I believe, at the time was a Detective in the Metropolitan Police. The first photograph clearly shows Hatton passing an envelope to Grover. The second shows Grover opening the envelope, and one can just see that the contents appear to be a substantial amount of money. The third photograph shows Grover handing over some documents, which I believe are the private accounts of Stamford and Grant, having been removed during a burglary in September 1979.”

Graham looked at his visitor, unaware of how best to proceed. Before he attempted to try, Robert pressed on.

“I have obtained, at some personal cost to myself, an itemised account from a Swiss bank. It is a numbered account, but I can link it directly to Michael Hatton, by these hotel receipts, these photographs and this statement from Karl Schroeder, an account manager at the Banque du Basle. One can see that the exact amount that I am accused of removing from my own company, were paid into this account in January 1980.”

Robert sat back and folded his arms.

Graham read through the papers once more.

“Why did you breach your bail, if you believed you’d been framed?”

“One, no one believed me, they’d done a first class job on me. Two, I needed to be free to obtain my evidence. Three, I couldn’t trust anyone, as there was already one Detective Inspector taking money from Hatton, so who else?”

“Where have you been, since leaving the country?”

“All over, old boy. The question should be, where haven’t I been?”

“Your wife and child were with you, are they still abroad?”

“Sadly, my wife died in South America, shortly after giving birth to my son. Both my children are now adults and their location is no business of yours.”

“I need to bring someone else in on this one,” Graham said, picking up the phone.

“No problem, old chap. I’m not going anywhere.”
 

*          *          *
 
Howard Markham was not giving up that easily. It was several weeks since he’d been kept in police custody for twelve hours, but eventually bailed for the officers to make some further enquiries. It seems that the person reporting the card missing was unobtainable, and it looked like the card had been issued to someone whose details were not verified. He returned to his Chigwell home that he shared with his seventy year old mother.

It was the only real asset his father had left, his house that is, not his wife. The business had gone, as had all the investments, during the stock market crash in the late eighties. The only other item, which was almost an asset, that Howard had left, was the letter written by Sir Charles Greyson. It related to certain product reports pertaining to the pharmaceutical industry, just prior to the launch of an AIDS medication. The shares shot up on launch, to crash back as soon as the medication was deemed to have potentially dangerous side effects.

Sir Charles, armed with the details in the reports, stood to gain a great deal if shares had been bought and sold at key moments. Howard did not actually know whether Sir Charles took that opportunity, and was banking on the fact that the regulators wouldn’t care, the fact the information reached the public domain when it shouldn’t have would be sufficient.

Howard was also a coward. He wasn’t prepared to face Sir Charles, but Letty was a different matter. The scatty girl had no knowledge as to whether the letter was a threat or not, but could be frightened into doing what he told her. He’d deliberately kept his head down for a couple of weeks, and when the letter from the police arrived, releasing him from the bail and telling him there was no further action being taken in respect of the credit card, he decided it was time to act.

He sat and watched the house every morning for several days. Letty went out at eight, returning at about six. She carried a bag containing books, so Howard surmised that she was attending college. He was tempted to follow her, but knew that if she saw him, she’d probably run scared and do something silly. He needed to bide his time.

On the Thursday, he waited for Sir Charles to leave the house, and then rang the front door bell. The butler answered.

“Sir?”

“Hello, is Letty at home?”

“No, sir.”

“Damn! I so wanted to get these articles to her,” he said, holding up a folder containing blank pages of A4 paper.

“She will be home at six this evening, you may leave them if you wish.”

“I hoped to get them to her this morning. She told me she needed them at college.”

“She’s at the Covent Garden College, I’m sure you could drop them off at the reception.”

“Thank you.”

Howard returned to his car, sitting, carefully planning how he would do this. She had to go with him willingly, and once he was married to her, the millions she was due would fall neatly into his hands. He knew there was much that would go wrong, but he was determined to make sure that nothing did.

Driving through the busy London streets, he managed to find the college, and sat up outside.

If he approached her, she’d make a scene and that would be counter-productive. He had to persuade her to meet him, and somewhere that he could have control if she did become difficult. The only way she’d meet him would be if she thought he was willing to part with the letter and let bygones be bygones. There was a time when he knew she fancied him, perhaps he could convince her that he was actually a decent bloke and wasn’t as bad as she thought. He cured his temper, for if only he’d kept his cool and allowed her to have her second thoughts, he might still have had a chance.

As he watched the students coming and going, he realised that there was no way she’d go with him willingly. He was not going to be able to marry her, so there had to be another answer.

Kidnap.

He could take her and use the letter to keep her quiet. He’d set up a phoney kidnap and then pretend to rescue her. She’d say nothing, he’d be a hero. Her father would be delighted and reward him handsomely. A fiendish plan took shape in his mind. He needed to make some preparations, so he drove quietly away just before Letty walked within feet of where he’d just been parked.
 

*          *          *
 
Rob was working on his least favourite type of work, translating a contract full of legal jargon from Arabic into English. He was tucked away in his cubicle, oblivious of everything that was going on around him. As Katie, he had developed a character of a distant but generally sweet girl, who was not interested in romantic entanglements with anyone.

After rebuffing the office Romeos, he was subtly approached by a pleasant young woman called Sheena who worked in HR. Rob had been standing at the photocopier; waiting for it to complete a complex task he had programmed it to do.

“Hi, you’re Katie Marriott, aren’t you?” she said.

“Yup, guilty.”

“I’m Sheena, I work in HR.”

“I know, I saw you in there on our first day.”

“Oh, you remembered me?”

“I try to remember everyone, just in case.”

“How are you settling in?”

“Fine, it’s okay really. I just wish the fellas would understand what no means.”

“They’re a pain, aren’t they?” Sheena asked.

“Not so much a pain, more just plain boring. Just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m available.”

Rob was getting impatient with the copier, but understood the first rule of copiers, - leave me and I’ll eat your paper and screw everything up.

“You started with your brother, didn’t you?”

“Yes, he’s in the legal department.”

“I know. I had lunch with him yesterday.”

“Oh yes?” Rob was surprised.

Sheena laughed.

“It’s not what you think, it was the only free table, so we shared. He’s very nice.”

“Yes, I think so.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m forward or nosey, but have you anyone at the moment?”

“Me? Not really, why?”

“I just saw you being pestered by our Jon boy. He really fancies you, were you aware of that?”

“I’d have to be blind and stupid not to. He keeps buying me things, it’s so embarrassing.”

“You don’t like him, then?”

Rob smiled.

“Let’s just say, he’s not my type, okay?”

Sheena seemed to be struggling with something, and Rob started to understand where she was going.

“So, what is your type?” she finally asked.

Rob collected the sheets of paper that had now been sorted, and started putting them in order.

“I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. I think I’ve yet to find him.”

“Are you sure it may not be a her?”

Cards on the table, Sheena looked expectantly at Rob, believing him to be another girl. This was so complex that Rob started to laugh. Here he was, a male, dressed and pretending to be a girl. He fancied another girl who didn’t know he was a boy, but had met him as a boy and didn’t know he was a girl, or not. Then here was a girl, who was a lesbian, who also fancied him, believing he was a girl too.

“Sheena, she might be a girl, hell I don’t know. I promise, if I get a feeling it’s you, I’ll let you know.”

“We could go out for a drink and a meal, just to find out?” she asked, hopefully.

Rob looked at her. With what he had between his legs, she’d run a mile. Once this was over, one way or another he was staying as just one gender for the rest of his bloody life.

“Maybe, let’s see what happens, in a week or two. Okay?”

Keeping to his policy of never shutting any door, he watched Sheena leave with a smile on her face. Why did everyone he met end up fancying him?

Ever since then, Sheena would seek him out and joined him for lunch. However, he was now stuck in this Arabic contract, so sex was a long way from his mind.

“Katie?”

He looked up. It was the MD’s PA, Madeline Green.

“Yes?”

“Mr Hatton wants to know if you’re free this weekend.”

“This weekend? Yes, I think so. I was going shopping with a friend, but I can do that any time. Why?”

“He has a conference in Paris. He needs someone fluent in French German and Italian, so your name immediately came up. Could you accompany him?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Excellent, here’s your ticket. You leave from Heathrow on Friday at two twenty, and return on Monday at noon. Here’s his itinerary, and I’ll give you a copy of his notes before you go. You’ll be staying at the Hotel Splendide in the centre of Paris.”

“Aren’t you going?”

“No, I’ve a wedding to go to. Besides, I’m sure you can cope.”

“Right, what sort of clothes do I need?”

“What you normally wear will be fine.”

“Right, thanks.”

Madeline smiled and left him alone with his Arabic. Friday was only two days away. Still, he was so used to being Katie now, he almost felt he was her.

He finished his translation and took it to the legal department. Pru was in her office, pouring over some documents, making marks in the margin with a red pen.

“Hello stranger,” he said.

“Hi Katie, what’s up?” Pru answered, just as a colleague walked past the open door.

“I’ve just brought this back, do you want it or what?”

Pru looked at the translation work.

“Yup, that for me, leave it there and I’ll sort it in a minute.”

“I’m off to Paris with the boss on Friday,” Rob said.

“Lucky you, I hope he can keep his hands to himself.”

“I’ll be all right. He’s married.”

“I hear he’s a mistress as well.”

“Then he’ll be too knackered to chase after me.”

“Talking about chasing after you, has Sheena from HR spoken to you yet?”

“Sheena, the ‘I’d like to go to bed with you’ girl?”

“She has. What happened?”

“Nothing, what do you expect?”

“I wondered how you handled it, that’s all.”

“I let her believe there’s always a chance, as I do with all of them. I hear she had lunch with you. Did she twig?”

“No, at least I don’t think so. This is getting very complicated, I hope the old man comes soon and puts an end to everything.”

Rob examined one of his nails.

“Fuck, the varnish is chipped.”

Pru smiled, but it was a sad smile. She recognised that Rob was probably more girl than boy now.

“Well, I hope Paris is fun. It should be nice as the weather is warming up a bit.”

“It should be. I might get some shopping done, but I doubt it. I’ll see you later.”

He returned to his office and found he had nothing left to do. He popped his head around his boss’s door.

“Ronald, if there is nothing else for me, I’d like to go and sort out some stuff for Friday. Mr Hatton wants to take me to Paris for a conference.”

“Katie, I know, his PA has just sent me a memo. Are you okay with this, it is rather short notice?”

“Fine, I just need to rearrange and reschedule some things.”

“Take the rest of the day, and tomorrow if you want.”

Rob smiled sweetly, enjoying watching Ronald blush.

“You’re a darling, thanks,” he said, leaving him alone.
 
 
Chapter 10 - Family Re-united and Into Action
 
 
Rob got the tube home, deciding to drop in on Letty. He got off the tube and was half way to her house when he remembered she was in college. He was on the point of turning round when he glanced at a white Ford Transit van driving slowly up the road. He got a view of the driver who wasn’t looking at him. It was Howard Markham.

His blood ran slightly cold, for the man was staring directly at her house, so Rob knew that he was not there for his health.

In all the excitement of the role, the socialising and the new jobs, they’d forgotten about Mr Markham, and that had obviously been a mistake. He returned to the relative safety of the tube station and called Letty on her mobile. She didn’t answer. He called her home. The butler answered.

“James, it’s Katie Marriott, what time is Letty due home?”

“Being Wednesday, half past four, probably.”

“Thanks, can you tell her I called. I won’t be able to go shopping with her on Saturday, I have to go to Paris with my Boss.”

“I’m sure that’ll be very hard for you, Miss.”

“James, your sarcasm is still quite obvious, you know?”

James chuckled. He and ‘Katie’ had built up a rapport and there was a good deal of mutual respect between them.

“Thank you, Miss, I like to be appreciated.”

Rob hung up, still chuckling. Then he made his way home. He dashed in and went straight up to his room. He heard Theresa calling him, so, returning onto the landing, he looked down.

He stared straight into his father’s eyes.

“Dad, fuck me, what a surprise!”

“I see your language hasn’t improved, young man. Come down and say hello nicely.”

He returned downstairs, and his father watched as the elegant young woman walked towards him. Casting inhibitions aside, the two embraced.

Robert had spent the last two hours talking with his old friend and one time lover, Theresa. He was aware of the gender confusions that Rob and Pru faced, Rob in particular, and he felt responsible and a fair amount of guilt.

They went into the sitting room.

“I need to explain to you why this is necessary,” he said to Rob.

An hour later, Rob sat there shaking his head.

“So, we’re on the last leg now?” he asked his father.

“Yes, I hope so, at any rate.”

“Good, because I really need to make up my mind about who I am.”

“I understand that, and will respect whatever decision you make. I’d obviously prefer it if you should choose to remain male, but I can see that you may have gone beyond the point of no return. Rob, I have no right to force you to do anything, and, although these deceptions were my way of protecting you, I feel I have done enough harm.”

He gazed at his son, who looked such a vision of feminine loveliness that he now regretted some of his decisions.

“Dad, we went along with this because it was fun. I’ve had a ball, and I know Pru has. But, we’ve had enough, and want to live for ourselves for a change. I need to know who and what I really am, and I need time and space to do that. I don’t have much of either, as I have to go to Paris the day after tomorrow with your cousin Mike Hatton, and the girl I think I’m in love with is under threat from a blackmailer.”

“Tell me about this girl,” his father said, and so Rob did.

“Go to her. Sir Charles Greyson, you say?”

“That’s right, do you know him?”

“I might. Go my boy; she needs you. My car is outside, take it.”

Rob returned to his room, stripping away Katie and became Rob once more. Dressing in black SWAT style combat trousers and jacket, with a pair of Magnum boots, he looked more like an SAS soldier than anything else. He put a black balaclava into his pocket along with his mobile phone.

He ran downstairs and out into the street, where he looked for a car the keys his father gave him would fit.

A black Audi TT sat in a parking bay, and when he pressed the remote, the door locks opened and indicators flashed briefly. He grinned, typically father, he always did things in style.

It took him minutes to get to Letty’s house. The white van was nowhere to be seen, so he drove to the college. He had about fifteen minutes before she was due to come out of class.

He managed to reach the college, and to his dismay he saw the van already leaving, making off at some speed in the opposite direction. It passed him, and he saw Markham’s face pale behind the wheel. He was looking grimly determined, and as he passed, Rob saw his lips move, as if he was saying or shouting something to someone in the rear of the vehicle.

Rob spun the car round, and followed. He pressed the hot key on his phone and got Pru.

“Pru, Letty’s been kidnapped by that sod Markham.”

“What?”

“I saw Markham driving past Letty’s house in a van, but Dad was at home and I couldn’t get out fast enough. I managed to get to the college, but it seems that Markham has already snatched her. In case I’m wrong, can you ring the college and see if she’s still there. I’m approaching the Aldwych, he’d heading to the City and the East End.”

“Do you want me to call the police?”

“And say what? No. Not yet anyway. Remember the letter? I think he’s using that as a lever, so she would tell the police nothing is wrong, as she is afraid her father may face prison for whatever is in the letter.”

“Oh. You said Dad is at home, is he still there?”

“Yes. Or he was when I left. I have his car, so I think he’ll still be there.”

“How is he?”

“Pru, he’s fine, but let’s talk about him later, okay?”

“Sorry, I’ll ring the college and then him. If she’s okay, I’ll call you back. If you don’t hear from me, then it must be her in the van.”

“Right.”

Rob put the phone down. He just realised that any driving licence he had was in the name of Katie Marriott. He was uninsured, unlicensed and using a mobile phone. The last thing he needed was to be stopped by the police.

Howard Markham was not a happy man. He wasn’t exactly regretting his decision to snatch Letty from outside the college, but he couldn’t face much more of her screaming.

He’d parked the van round the corner, and waited for her by the main entrance. When she’d appeared, he had approached and simply opened the conversation.

“Letty, I’m here to apologise to you for what I did a few weeks ago. I also want to show my good faith by giving you the letter, so you can destroy it or do what the hell you want with it.”

She had stared at him, her books clutched across her stomach.

“All right, give it to me,” she said, not trusting him at all.

“It’s in the car.”

“Get it. I’ll wait here.”

“Okay, you can come with me, it’ll be quicker that way. I won’t bite, you know.”

Reluctantly, she followed, and on arriving at the van, she started to frown.

“You said it was a car.”

“Car, van who cares. Let me get it for you.”

He opened the van and taken a plain piece of paper from the seat.

He opened the passenger door from the inside.

“Here, get in, take a look if you don’t believe me.”

She got in and took the paper. Only when she registered that it was plain did she feel fearful.

“What’s going on? I told you, I won’t marry you!”

“I realise that. So, I just thought I’d sell the paper to the highest bidder, or else daddy can pay what it’s worth.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“Not the way I’m doing it. You see, your father is receiving a message that you’ve been kidnapped. If the police get told, then he thinks the kidnapper will kill you.”

“You mean you will?”

“No, you’ve got me all wrong. I’m going to be the one that rescues you, and gets the reward. Any whispers about the truth, and then I’ll use the letter, do you understand?”

Letty did. She was very angry and also afraid.

“You bastard, let me go!” she screamed at him.

He slapped her hard, and she fell silent.

“Now get in the back and shut the fuck up!” he commanded.

He had to ‘help’ her into the back, securing her arms with some rope he’d attached to the inside wall bulkhead of the van.

“Now shut up and this will all go smoothly. I don’t want to have to start mutilating you, but if you don’t keep quiet, an ear here or a finger there might have to happen.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me, bitch!”

Howard returned to the front and started to drive off, just as a black Audi TT came down the road.
 

*          *          *
 
Sir Charles received a letter by private courier.

It said:
 
 

WE HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER…       WE WANT  £1,000,000 IN USED NOTES…       NO POLICE…       IF YOU CALL THE POLICE, SHE DIES…       PAINFULLY.       YOU WILL BE CONTACTED AGAIN IN A       COUPLE OF HOURS.       IF YOU DON’T HAVE THE MONEY, SHE       LOSES A LIMB.

 
 
He started to shake. All his fears were realised, and he felt afraid for his precious daughter.

“Sir, a Gentleman has called. He wouldn’t give his name, but says it’s about Letitia.”

“Put him through, James.”

The phone rang and Sir Charles picked it up after the first ring.

“Greyson,” he snapped.

“Ah, splendid. I didn’t give my name to your man, but it’s Tremaine, Robert Tremaine, we met some time ago, but you probably don’t recall.”

Sir Charles was confused.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was about my daughter.”

“It is, dear chap, and I am the bearer of good news. It seems the villain of this piece is one Howard Markham, whom I believe you may know.”

“My God, he’s kidnapped Letty?”

“It appears so. You see, he is at this moment driving her eastwards through the City of London. I don’t know the details, as my, ah, my source was not really certain either. The fortunate circumstances that I can divulge, is that I have a trusted operative following Markham, and he will endeavour to free her at the first opportunity. I see no reason to involve the police at this time. Has he been in touch yet?”

“I have a note. He wants a million.”

“What a nasty fellow. He must know that kidnappings seldom work. I wonder what his real game is!”

“How did you come to have your man near my daughter?”

“Pure chance, old boy. My, ah, operative, happened to recognise Markham, and as it was outside your daughter’s college, put two and two together.”

“He must be very efficient.”

“My dear chap, he is without doubt the best.”

“So what happens now?”

“Nothing. If you hear from him, then go along with him as if you are going to pay him, and pretend you don’t know who he is.”

“How will I know what’s going on?”

“I shall send another operative over to your house to keep in constant touch with both me and the man on the ground.”

“Robert Tremaine, you said?”

“That’s right.”

“Not the one who had to leave the country some time ago?”

“The same, but I’m back, and I am no longer a fugitive from the law. On the contrary, I am now working with the authorities on several matters of mutual interest. But this is irrelevant, I have to go and I will send someone over.”

Sir Charles was holding a dead phone. He replaced the receiver.
 

*          *          *
 
Pru arrived home, having established that Letty wasn’t at college, and spoke to her father, alerting him to what had happened. Robert was waiting for her.

After giving her a hug, he brought her up to speed on his plans. Then with what had transpired between he and Sir Charles.

“You must go over to his house and take control,” Robert said.

“I can’t, daddy, he knows me.”

“No, he knows Peter Marriott. He doesn’t know Prudence Tremaine.”

Pru had never used her own first name in all the years she’d followed her father around the world.

“Am I to believe that that’s my real name?”

“It is.”

“So, us working for Tremaine Industries is no coincidence?”

“Indeed not!”

“I won’t ask. So, I can be Prudence, from now on?”

“No, just for a short while. I need to reassure Sir Charles that we Tremaines are trustworthy.”

Pru went upstairs, shaking her head.

She gratefully stripped away her binding from her chest, luxuriating in feeling free again. Then she changed into a smart skirt and jacket, with stockings and heels. She looked the efficient young female executive, and her short hair, with some gel and imagination looked very chic when she had finished doing her makeup.
 

*          *          *
 
James opened the door after the bell sounded.

A tall and attractive young woman holding a large briefcase stood there. She was faintly familiar.

“Hello, I’m Prudence Tremaine. I’m expected.”

“Come in Miss Tremaine, Sir Charles is in his study.”

Pru followed the butler across the hall; smiling as it was her heels that echoed on the floor this time, instead of her brothers.

“Sir Charles, a Miss Tremaine to see you.”

Sir Charles looked at the tall girl. She exuded confidence, power and efficiency. She was very attractive, not pretty, as she was too substantial to be pretty. Even though she wasn’t in any way fat, she was just a big girl who had a lovely smile. He too felt that there was something vaguely familiar about her, but Sir Charles couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Hello, Sir Charles, my father has explained the situation. Our operative is in touch with me by phone, so we know exactly where they are. Has anyone contacted you yet?”

“No, but if he’s alone, he won’t, will he? Not for a bit anyway.”

“If he has a mobile phone, he might. The chances are he’ll use a pay phone. I need you to portray the frightened father, and just go along with him. If he leaves Letty for any length of time, then our chap will go in and get her out. We just wait.”

“You’ve done this sort of thing before?”

“Loads of times,” she lied and smiled reassuringly at him. She took out the tape recorder and attached it to the telephone.

“It must be an exciting life, being in the security industry?”

She looked at him.

“Yes, it is sometimes. Most of the time it’s like any other job,” she said.

The butler appeared with a pot of tea and two cups.

“I thought you and the young lady could do with some tea, sir.”

“Good man, James. Thanks.”

They’d just started sipping the tea when the phone rang.
 

*          *          *
 
Rob watched as the van reversed into the lockup under the railway arches in Leytonstone. Markham appeared, locking the substantial doors before walking briskly down the road.

Rob guessed there was a pay phone not far away, so he had a few minutes to try to get Letty out.

He approached the lockup cautiously, as he wasn’t certain that Markham wasn’t alone. Although the large wooden doors were substantial and in good order, the weakest point was the lock. It was a single Yale padlock, looking small and puny attached to the large metal bracket. Rob smiled, taking out a small leather wallet from one of his numerous pouches. Selecting a slim fillet of metal, with a few jiggles, the lock clicked open. He moved quietly inside, closing the door, and pulling the balaclava over his head as he did so.

The lockup was quite small, with only enough room to park six cars - two abreast and three deep. There was an old shell of what had once been a Ford Granada and the white van. The van was unlocked, so he opened the rear doors.

Letty was lying on the floor of the van, her hands tied firmly to the van itself. She’d tried everything to undo them, but had tightened the knots in the process. There was a blindfold over her eyes and a length of duct tape over her mouth, sealing off her screams. She was feeling about as miserable as she could, and vague thoughts of her unknown admirer flitted in and out of her brain.

“How could I be so stupid?” she asked herself. “These things don’t happen today. I….” Then she heard the doors open. He hadn’t been long, the bastard.

It wasn’t Markham, for he spoke, and Letty experienced a strange thrill.

“Letty, I’m going to take off the blindfold and gag. Don’t scream or do anything silly. Everything is all right now,” the voice said.

She’d recognise that voice anywhere. It was her unknown.

The duct tape came off first, and she felt two lips press against hers for a brief moment. Then the blindfold came off, and she blinked as even the dim light startled her for a moment.

Her admirer was working on the ropes tying her hands. He was dressed from head to foot in black, looking like a secret agent. He had a balaclava over his head, his two eyes twinkling at her through the holes.

Soon she was free and rubbing the feeling back into her hands and wrists. They hurt, so he took her hands and gently massaged them.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here. He won’t be long.”

As they headed towards the doors, they started to open.
 

*          *          *
 
Markham was pleased. Old man Greyson was as pliable as anything, and claimed to have the money ready. But Howard was no fool. He knew that a kidnapper with a million pounds had a limited selection of countries in which to reside. However, as a gallant hero, who had rescued the unfortunate girl from a fate worse than death, only notoriety and wealth would fellow. He could live in this country, and may even be invited to go on Big Brother.

He should have this wrapped up within a couple of days, return the girl to her family, and reap the rewards. He was whistling as he approached the doors. He stopped as soon as he noticed that the padlock was missing.

He felt that icy finger of fear, similar to that he experienced when the police arrived at his hotel room at Heathrow.

“Not this time,” he said, pulling the gun from his pocket. It was an elderly Smith and Wesson .38. His father had acquired it quite illegally many years ago, for personal protection. When all handguns were made illegal in Britain, the gun was lying forgotten in the attic. Howard only discovered it quite recently while looking for anything of value to sell.

Never having had any training or practice with the weapon, he made all the classic mistakes that one sees actors doing when portraying supposed firearms specialists and professionals. The first mistake is to walk into an enclosed space without checking as much as you can first from the doorway. Quick glances, from different places around the door, to see whether your enemy is visible, armed and where they are.

The second is not pointing the gun where you are looking. The gun was actually pointing at the floor as he walked in looking all around him. He noted the rear doors of the van were open, so made another mistake in assuming the girl had got out somehow. His next mistake was not checking the van.

Letty was hiding behind a workbench. He saw her and pointed the gun at her.

“Out you come, you silly cow!”

He walked past the open back door of the van, and never saw the wrench as it hit his right wrist.

He dropped the gun, and swung to face this new threat. A shadow in black launched himself at him, raining blow after blow at him, driving him back against the hulk of the Ford behind. Howard was a big man, and had boxed quite effectively in his youth. He managed to connect a left hook on the smaller man in black, knocking him to the ground. He looked for the gun, seeing it at the back of the van. Letty also saw it and got to it first.

She picked it up with trembling hands, pointing it at them both. The other man stood up.

“Take the gun and get out, Letty, run!” he said.

“I can’t leave you,” she said.

“Just go, I’ll be fine.”

Howard roared in anger and rushed at the man in black. Somehow, the man wasn’t where he had been standing, but he managed to grab Howard’s right arm, and swing him into the rear door of the van.

Stunned and in pain, Howard turned to face the man.

“You little shit! Why can’t people mind their own fucking business?”

“Ah, Mr Markham, this is my business, for you have seriously wronged the woman I love and intend to marry.”

The voice was strangely calm and almost familiar. Letty felt that she knew the voice, but couldn’t work out to whom it belonged.

Howard picked up a length of steep pipe.

“Come on you little runt, come and fucking take me, if you’re so fucking brave.”

The man adopted a martial art stance, and waved him on with both hands. Howard approached cautiously, keeping half an eye on the girl. At the last moment, he lunged to the left, grabbing the girl and the gun. Seizing the gun from her, he turned it on the man and pulled the trigger.

The man wasn’t there.

He started to pull Letty towards him, while trying to point the gun at the man. The foot came out of nowhere, connecting to his hand, sending the gun spinning over the old wreck, to land with a thud somewhere at the very back of the lockup.

A fist followed, and Howard went down. He started to get up when another fist to the side of his head made all the lights go out. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Rob stood over him, ready to punch him again. He allowed his breathing to return to normal, smiling gently. His time in the Far East had not been wasted, as a black belt in Karate, he had never really had to use it in anger before.

Letty was at his side, trying to hand him the gun, which she had retrieved.

“That was wonderful,” she gushed.

Taking the gun from her, he opened it, looking at the five live rounds and one spent cartridge in the cylinder. Then taking out his phone, he spoke briefly.

“It’s done. All safe, Markham is unconscious, call the police. The sod had a gun. One shot fired, so the police may well be on way already. I’ll wait for them to almost get here, then I’ll bugger off. The story we agreed, okay?”

Then he turned and took Letty in his arms.
 

*          *          *
 
Pru ended her call on the mobile, picking up Sir Charles Greyson’s phone.

“Your daughter is safe and well, and our man has rendered Markham unconscious. Please dial 999, and ask for the police. Tell them that your daughter has contacted you, she managed to escape from her kidnapper, and an unknown member of the public, hearing her cries, helped by knocking out the man responsible. This is where she is,” she said, passing over a piece of paper.

“I can’t believe your man doesn’t want to make himself known.”

“Let’s say he has an advantage in anonymity.”

“Oh, I understand.”

Sir Charles dialled 999.
 

*          *          *
 
Rob tied up Markham tightly. Letty sat on the back of the open van watching her unknown as he checked through Markham’s pockets. Taking out a sheet of paper, he looked at it and smiled.

He tucked it away in one of his pockets.

“Is that the bloody letter?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t I have it?”

“When the police get here, they may find it and ask all manner of questions. It’ll be best that you say nothing about it. It will give me an opportunity to meet your father when I can ask for your hand in marriage.”

Letty grinned from ear to ear.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” she asked.

“Letty, at the moment, I am nobody. Soon, I hope to be someone. Then, and only then will I come and take you away. You will come, won’t you?”

“I’ll come with you now, if you but ask!”

Rob smiled.

“No. There are still matters to complete. The time will come. I promise.”

The wail of sirens could be heard, so he rolled up his balaclava past his lips, so he could kiss her.

“Remember, a stranger came to your help and had the fight with Markham. He tied him up and left.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

He smiled. His mouth was strangely familiar too. Oh, it was so frustrating.

“I do know you, don’t I?” she said.

“Letty, I can’t lie to you. You do.”

“Oh, tell me who you are, please.”

“I will, when the time is right, and then I’ll propose. I hope you can forgive me.”

Then he was gone.

The police were sceptical at first, but when she showed them the gun, and pointed out the bullet hole in the wall, they took her seriously. Howard came round, struggled a bit, and then gave up. He started to sob.

A lady detective called Beverly took Letty to the police station. She spent nearly two hours taking an incredibly detailed statement from her. Letty stuck to the true story, omitting only the letter and that Markham was planning to stage a rescue.

Letty went into great detail about the unknown helper.

“He was about five ten, very chunky, like a body builder, and had very short cropped hair. He had a tattoo on his right hand, on the back, it looked like a dragon or something. He sounded like a cockney. He was wearing jeans and a white England football shirt.”

At the same time, another detective phoned Sir Charles Greyson, and asked him to attend Leytonstone Police Station, and to bring the note. Prudence had left just prior to the police calling, giving Sir Charles a briefing as to what to say. She returned to Elm Park Gardens, and told her father the good news.

As soon as Sir Charles arrived at the police station, he was taken to an interview room to be reunited with his daughter.

Letty looked remarkably calm and very pleased to see him.

“Oh Daddy, this time it wasn’t my fault!” she said as she hugged him.

“No, I know it wasn’t my little love. I know.”

The officers took the note from him, sealing it in a forensic bag. Another detective took a statement from him. It was some time before they got home.

Meanwhile, back In Elm Park Gardens, Robert was relaxing with his daughter. The phone rang. Theresa answered it. It was Letty wanting to speak to Katie.

“I’m sorry Letty, Katie’s is still at work, but she’ll be back soon. Can I ask her to ring you?”

“I’ll do that, bye.”

“Splendid. A nice whisky is just what I need now.”

Rob arrived shortly afterwards. He walked in, looking very pleased with himself.

“The silly sod had a gun. He’ll be going away for a long time now.”

“You’re on the news,” Pru said, pointing at the television.

A reporter was standing outside a police cordon at the lockup.
 
 
      “Dramatic events unfolded here this afternoon. The full facts are not yet clear, but it is understood that a man has been arrested here on suspicion of kidnapping Letitia Greyson, only daughter of industrialist and financier, Sir Charles Geryson. I spoke to Detective Inspector George Adams a few moments ago.”

The camera shot changed to the policeman.

      “I can confirm that a young woman, was snatched from outside her college in Covent Garden at around four this afternoon. Tied up in the back of a Ford Transit, she was brought to this location. Tied up and gagged, she managed to chew through her gag and call for help. A passing member of the public, who has yet to come forward, came to her aid and gained access to the garage. After freeing her, they were confronted by the man, who is understood to have been armed with a handgun. A shot was heard by passers by, but they believed it to have been a car back firing. The men had a fight, and the kidnapper was over-powered. The girl contacted her father, and it was he who called the police. I can confirm that we have arrested one person in connection to this offence. We believe the man was acting alone, and that we are not seeking anyone else."

      “The young woman has now returned to her family unharmed, except somewhat shocked by her ordeal. I would urge the young man who came to her aid to come forward. He has displayed remarkable courage and I can assure him that we only seek to take a statement from him.”
 
 
Rob sniggered.

“I wonder what description she gave,” Pru said.

“Probably some six foot six black man. Oh, Dad, this is the letter the bastard was using as blackmail. Is it as nasty as he thought?” he said passing over the letter to his father.

Robert put on his spectacles and read the letter.

“Hmm, possibly. On face value, it seems innocuous enough, but there is a hint of slight irregularities. If it were I, I’d be slightly embarrassed but little more. Take it when you go and make yourself known to the family. But it won’t be for a while yet. I’m afraid you will have to go back to being Katie for a little while longer.”

“I suspected as much; may we know for how long?”

“You’re off to Paris with my cousin this weekend, so I think next weekend should see the beginning of the end.”

“Has he been really trying to track us to bump us off, for all these years?” Pru asked.

Robert scratched his head.

“I’m not sure. I do know that his men have tried to trace me, and succeeded a couple of times, that’s why we moved so suddenly so often. Michael fears me, he fears the fact I may have evidence that will ruin him, and he fears that I will prevent him from achieving his ambition.”

“Which is?” asked Rob.

“Robin, I don’t think he knows anymore. Initially, it was to oust me from my position and to take what wasn’t his. He was jealous, pure and simple. His family and ours were linked for so many years, and always he saw his family as subservient to ours. It wasn’t a matter of breeding, but one of ability. We were better at the job, but he is ruthless and quite fearless in business, which is why he has succeeded in such a competitive world. What he actually wants has been blurred, now I think it is to hang onto what he stole, and become as rich and influential as he can.”

“I never knew I was called Robin. I thought Rob was short for Robert.”

Robert smiled.

“You mother called you her little robin, just before she died. So I kept the name.”

“Rob, you’d better change, if I know Letty, she’ll be over to see you as soon as she can,” Pru said.

“How about you? Has your big soldier been in touch recently?”

“No, he’s probably busy down on the farm,” she said, quite brightly, but Rob knew she was missing him.

Rob went up stairs for a shower, shave and to recreate Katie again. As he sat at his dressing table, made up and looking every inch a desirable female, he tried to search his own eyes for his destiny. As soon as he became ‘Katie’ all male identity fell away, and he felt her to his core. He actually felt very at home and happy as Katie, yet he knew that the trials and tribulations to be really Katie would be unpleasant and costly. How much did he want it, or was he just content being something he knew?

He was happy being Rob, but felt that he would miss the girly things he had come to love. Then he thought of Letty. She loved him as Rob, and as nice as it was being her best girlfriend, he wanted more. The male hidden beneath so many layers struggled to be heard, but managed it in a very base context, that of sex.

He finished affixing his false nails, when Pru , now as Peter, shouted that Letty had arrived. He smiled at Katie’s reflection.

“Soon, my girl, you are going away for a very long holiday,” he told her.

‘Katie’ went down to let Letty tell her all about her ordeal.

---

 
To Be Continued...