Where Simone and Michelle make new friends and discover useful ways ways to supplement their incomes.

Give me a high five!

The Sissy Farm.

Chapter 26

List of Characters.

Me. Michelle A Natural transvestite sissy.
Janice My Younger sister
Aunty Bev Janice and My mother’s Sister.
Mistress Janet Headmistress of the young lady’s academy
Doctor Shirley Williams. My endocrinologist.
Miranda. A very effeminate Sissy sales assistant.
Miss Stern Miranda’s mistress who owns the shop.
Peregrine. AKA. Uncle Penny. My transvestite uncle. (Aunty Bev’s brother.)
James AKA. Auntie Jamie Peregrine’s Partner. (Soon to inherit his/her fathers
earldom.)
Victoria An older RG friend of mine.
Jemima Victoria’s sissy brother.
Portia Victoria’s mummy.
Julia My dining companion and mentor at Mistress Janet’s Academy.
Sophia and Angelica Victoria and Jemima’s friends.
Delilah & Nancy My ex Attackers.
Davinia. Sissified Gypsy naughty boy once called David
John and Simone Davinia’s older gypsy brother and sister,
Isobel and Sally, The two youngest gypsy sisters.
Uncle Arnold Earl Weston’s odious younger brother.
Cousin William Arnold’s son and Auntie Jamie’s first cousin.
Elaine William’s wife.
Jeanette. William’s daughter, (who fancies Julia like crazy.)
Josephine & Persephone Jeanette’s younger twin sisters.
Andre Hair stylist in N Y.
Dawn Robbins Singer and Actress.

Simone and I arrived at Andre’s salon a little late and we felt a little sheepish when we met two of our regular customers waiting at the door. Trixie, our receptionist had the Christmas Eve off because of family commitments.

“Sorry we’re late Miss Dawkins. Car wouldn’t start.” Simone lied as I quickly set about work.
Fortunately Shirley Dawkins was a pleasant woman and she expressed no anger, in fact she actually complimented us after grinning knowingly. She had just sussed us out.

“I’m just pleased you’re open on Christmas Eve. It means I can go home with my hair intact and smart. It was hell on the exchanges all week. I’m just glad the markets are closed today. It’s the only bloody Chance I’ve got. Moment I’ve finished up here I’ve got some last minute presents to buy.”

Simone smiled welcomingly as she turned to address the other customer Jasmine.

“If you’ll both just take you seats, Michelle is ready for you now.”

“The other girl was Shirley’s trading associate so as they settled into their seats they immediately started discussing commodities and options.” As Simone washed and shampooed their hair I held out some styles from Andre’s book and suggested what I thought suitable. They made their choices and I started preparing. During this time they fell to discussing some currency exchange deals factoring various percentages and probabilities. Having a keen interest in maths but only as it interested me for leisure and my personal entertainment; I couldn’t help but eves-drop. They were discussing a deal that was coming up after Christmas and both girls weren’t sure of the outcome based on different volumes, percentages and risks.
Shirley turned to me and asked.

“Midge, can you get me my calculator from my bag?”

I was still waiting for Simone to finish up the shampooing so I had nothing to do and I reached into Shirley’s bag only to discover that her trading calculator with its programmable chip was not there. I showed her the bag and she cursed furiously.

“Dammit I know I put it in there. I nearly dropped it when I moved the forex trading file. Where the fuck can it be? I need those figures to work over Christmas at home; - well I’ll need the calculator with the programme at least.”

“Can you not go back to the office after you finish up here?” I suggested.

“No it’s all time locked from Saturday until Dec 28th. I’ll want the figures first thing on the 27th for the Tokyo markets because the Asian markets will be open on line. I’ll be doing some trading from home. Damn! Damn! Damn!

“So which calculations d’you need?" I asked, not really thinking it was that important.

"Oh the Forex predictions for the pound — dollar fluctuations."

“Are those equasions based on Fourier analysis?” I asked casually.

“Partly,” Shirley replied frowning curiously, “what d’you know about Fourier?”

“Oh, a little bit. I used to like sums at school.”

I noticed the pair share a patronising smile then one of them composed a little calculation, based on a sliding exchange rate over a fixed period to determine the most likely probability of profit — loss ratio. They had to repeat the values because I hadn’t been expecting the nature of the final answer but after they had rolled their eyes and sniggered condescendingly, they repeated the figures. As I lifted Shirley’s hair to check the collar line I casually gave them the answer before continuing to bend my knees as I double checked the hair line. I had deliberately made a point of being more concerned with getting the hair style right than the answer to the maths. Both Shirley and Jasmine who were maths graduates from Yale, and rated as top traders in the city, let out simultaneous gasps of astonishment.

“How did you do that?!!!” Jasmine screeched.

“Do what?” I replied unconcernedly as I continued nonchalantly styling Shirley’s hair. (It was my turn to be patronising.)

“That sum!! That calculation girl. How the hell did you do it?!!!”

“How do you know it’s right?” I countered, “I could just be bull-shitting.”

“Because that was the last big trade Jasmine and I pulled off before Friday’s close of play. It took us nearly five minutes with the aid of the computer to get it right. That was the correct answer because several of our other trading associates agreed before we made the trade.”

“Well then it must be right; so there you are.” I shrugged and finally gave Simone the mirror to show Shirley her hair as I turned to finishing Jasmine’s

It was only then that I noticed the disbelieving incredulity in both of the market trader’s expressions. I decided to have some more fun.

“What! What are you staring at me like that for?”

Shirley croaked as her voice betrayed her astonishment.

“What are you doing styling hair girl? You could be making millions trading the markets!”

I shrugged again, enjoying myself immensely.

“I like doing hair. I like being creative. Anyway, it’s not all about money.It's about my favourite lifestyle.”

Shirley ignored my ‘throw away’ remark and persisted.

“Could you do another calculation like that?”

“Suppose so. What sort of calculation?”

Jasmine stared at me through the mirror then gave me a problem. After double checking the figures again, (just to wind the pair up,) I gave them an answer. This time it was a straight forward four function iteration to solve a simple polynomial, transcendental equation. Meat and drink to me for it just involved long complex, high value numbers. The actual maths was fairly simple.

After giving them the answer which proved to be four simple numbers I realised that Jasmine had given me another complex problem that resulted in a simple answer. The four required values turned out to be one, two, four and eight. I grinned as I recognised the simple series. The problem could easily be ‘back-calculated’ to confirm its accuracy. Even so starting from the unknowns of the beginning involved holding and handling huge numbers in one’s head.

Jasmine gaped at me as I gave her hair the finishing touches and avoided meeting her gaze.

“How the hell did you hold those numbers in your head? They’re huge!”

I smirked.

“The secret is not to try and hold them for long or you’ll forget them. Do the maths quickly so you don’t have to remember the numbers for long, then write down the answer on paper. It’s easy.”

Shirley was studying me thoughtfully.

“If I phoned you on December 27th could you do a couple of those sums for me, say around four in the afternoon.”

I grinned and exchanged a knowing grin with Simone.

“If I’m awake. It’s one of our few days off. We’re going clubbing on Boxing night and we could be out till late. My mistress might require me for sissy duties. Anyway, I thought you were going home to your parents.”

“Not quite,” Jasmine interjected. “We are both going home to my dad’s.”

“Oh.” I replied disinterestedly.

Far be it from me to wonder about other people’s family arrangements but Shirley felt bound to offer an explanation.

“My parents and Jasmine’s mum don’t approve of us but Jasmine’s dad is okay with it and he’s divorced.”

“Oh.” I finished, still disinterested but the pair were determined to tell us about themselves now that they new Simone and I were an item.

“We’ve been together since freshman year.” Boasted Shirley.

“And.” I shrugged again.

It was lunch time and Simone and I were hungry for we had missed a proper breakfast because of Dawn’s intervention. We were looking forward to a meal in Angelina’s, our favourite diner across the street.

“Can we get you lunch?” Shirley offered.

Simone and I exchanged glances; we could see no harm so we agreed. The next appointments were for two o’clock. We had two hours to kill, not many people had their hair styled this late on Christmas Eve unless they lived extremely busy lives. After cashing up the money, Simone and I joined Shirley and Jasmine at our regular table across the street. Angelina’s partner immediately came to see us. He knew us well as regulars and had been an old friend of Andre’s before I had come to work at the salon. He took our orders and we settled down to chat. Shirley and Jasmine were eager to learn more about my maths tricks.

“They’re not tricks,” I protested, “I’ve just got this maths thing in my head. It ticks like a computer.”

“Is it there all the time?” Shirley wondered. “Does it affect your personality and stuff, make you into an automaton; - a philistine.”

“No!” I protested again. “No; I can switch it on and off when I want! Do I look like a philistine?” I felt a bit insulted for I took great care with my appearance and my clothes. I considered philistines to be disinterested in art and style and things beautiful and all things cultural.

“Well; no, it’s just that the math thing, it’s just that mathematicians tend to be so immersed.”

“Well I’m not immersed, - as you put it. I like music and fashion and clothes, - and hair of course. I only do maths stuff at college or very rarely at home.”

“Ain’t that the truth! I’ve never seen her do it except just now,” Simone interjected on my behalf. “She normally keeps it for her college work. And she doesn’t do much of that!”

“Oh, so you’re at college then, where, Harvard, Yale, MIT?” Jasmine asked.

“No, New York State. We’re not millionaires.”

“You should be at MIT. With a brain like yours you should be on their fast track. Building rockets or something.”

“What! Stuck all the way out in the boon-docks! So how would I work for Andre’? How would I get into New York every day for work. New York is where I want to be. New York is where it’s at! Clubs, glamour, culture, everything! Maths is just something stuck in my head, like musicians or artists have their talents. It doesn’t necessarily mean I have to be a mathematician or even like maths. I far prefer hair styling. I don’t want to be ‘fast-tracked’ as you put it. Anyway, where do those tracks lead to; - burn out as I seem to recall.”

“Give me freedom and give me hair! Is that it?” Shirley chuckled.

“Well, - yes actually. If that’s how it is then, - yes. Ah, here’s grub.” I sighed contentedly as Lucian arrived with the large tray.

“Where’s Angelina?” Simone asked; for Angeline usually waited on the tables while Lucian cooked.

“It’s Christmas Eve; she’s gone shopping with the kids. After you’ve finished, I’m closing up.”
Having exchanged polite small talk with Lucian we pitched into our food then Simone’s mobile rang. She handed it to me.

“It’s Dawn, for you.”

“Hi darling. I’ve been shopping and I’m coming over with your presents before I head off home.”

“Oh. Hold on love, we’re not at the salon, we’re having lunch with two customers.”

“Okay, I’ll leave them in the back-room. See you in the new year.”

That suited us. We’d be back at the salon by about a quarter to two so we continued eating. Then it started to snow, and snow and snow and snow.

At two o’clock the appointments cancelled their bookings. At four o’clock Dawn phoned to say her flight had been cancelled due to bad weather.

“So why are you calling us?” Wondered Simone.

“Cos I’m going to be stuck in New York all on my own.” I haven’t even got any food in my apartment. I ran everything down before planning on going home. The show doesn’t start again until after Christmas. Can I eat with you on Christmas day, I hate the idea of being stuck in my apartment all on my bloody own.”

Simone turned to me.

“Looks like one extra over Christmas. I’ll pop down to the store to get some extra food in.”

Since the bookings were cancelled we were doing nothing at the salon, I locked up the salon and joined her on the shopping expedition. We were just entering the store on the corner of our block when Simone’s phone rang again. It was the same thing again. Shirley and Jasmine’s flight had also been cancelled.

“Well they can’t stay over, I protested. There isn’t room. Besides, they’ve got a fancy apartment down town.”

“No but it’s the same as Dawn. They’ve run the food down and shops are closing. They just want to share Christmas dinner cos they’ll be alone. They’re at Kennedy and asking what they need to bring for extra supplies. They’ll stop at a store.”

I racked my brains as I tried to remember what we might run short of but Simone anticipated me as she spoke to them.

“Just find a deli and bring a whole bunch of extra fancy stuff. Drinks and sweets and pastries and stuff, oh and some extra puddings and sauce. We’re at the corner shop now and we can double up on the ordinary stuff down here, - milk, sugar, veg and stuff.”

As we entered the shop, the owner who knew us well was just about to close, Simone and I frowned at the weather. The snow was getting thick so we doubled up on all our purchases. With the shopping sorted, we returned home to find Dawn shivering on the doorstep. When she’d left, not expecting to return, she had posted the apartment key through our letterbox. The snow had already gathered on the shoulders and hood of her stylish parka and overnight bag. She helped us with the extra stores and grinned eagerly. “Preparing for a siege are we?”

“Dunno how long this’ll last. Just look at it.” Simone replied.

Dawn shuddered.

“Glad I’m staying over with you two. Oh, I see you’ve bought an extra bird. Does that mean I’m sleeping over?”

Simone and I exchanged knowing smiles. This wasn’t all about the snow. Dawn caught our smiles and blushed.

“Well. It was nice wasn’t it? Anyway, three bodies are warmer than two. Won't Santa get a surprise when he's filling our stockings?”

“Yes Dawn.” Simone and I replied in unison. “However,” Simone added, “we’ve got more guests coming over tomorrow. There’ll be five for Christmas dinner.”

Her smile faded.

“Oh are they staying over?”

“No. They share an apartment but just don’t fancy sitting down as two people on Christmas day. They got snowed out as well. They’ll be coming over in the morning. They’re long term customers of Andre so we thought we’d extend the invitation. It’ll be nice having five for dinner.”

“You mean Andre does their hair?”

“Yes.”

“So they’re two girls, - sharing an apartment, are they an item?”

“Yes,” Simone replied, “most of Andre’s customers are girls, d’you have a problem with them being an item?”

“Heck no! Well not the item bit but will they realise about me, and Midge and the hair thing for the show?”

“We’ll just have to be careful.” I added.

“And then some. We’d better get our story off pat.”

We concocted a story as we packed away the goods but it turned out not to be necessary. Shirley and Jasmine weren’t in to musicals or shows and whilst recognising Dawn they weren’t aware of the hair saga. After eating a Christmas Eve meal Dawn couldn’t wait to go clubbing. The club was open but many regulars were missing because of the snow. The mood was lively however and we had plenty of space to strut our stuff on the dance-floor. It was a happy trio that picked its way the few steps through the deepening snow back to our apartment. It was an even happier trio that cuddled up tight in bed.

Early the next morning, I put the bird in to roast and started preparations for the meal. At ten we got a progress report from
Shirley and Jasmine. The snow was two feet deep on the sidewalks but not drifting. They had half a mile left to walk because no subways or taxis were moving and like everybody else, they were walking down the centre of the ploughed streets. We wondered if they didn’t know anybody with a hummer or something but they were in a high old mood. The snow had made everybody friendly as people did what they had to do to get where they wanted to go. At one stage they had used their good looks to hitch a lift on a snow-plough along with about three others until the driver had to put them off as he passed the depot. The snow certainly added to the Christmas spirit. Eventually at eleven they arrived bearing gifts. It was hugs and smiles all around as preparations went apace and by one we were sitting down.

As we savoured the delights and lingered at the table getting steadily mellower, (drunker to our cousins across the pond.) nobody noticed that the snow had begun to fall again with avengance. Then at eight o’clock somebody remembered the time and pulled back the curtain. We all gasped at the sight that greeted us. There was no way Shirley and Jasmine were walking back that night for the snow was nearly three feet thick and the thermometer had dropped like a stone.

“You’ll freeze!” Squealed Dawn when Shirley broached the idea.

“So what do we do?” Jasmine wondered.

“Sleep over.” Simone offered.

“What! Five in a bed. Are you serious”

“It’s a big bed.” Simone added. “And it’s warm.”

Shirley and Jasmine exchanged salacious smiles as Jasmine remarked.

“Well, we’re all girls together. The old priest can’t complain.”

Simone, Dawn and I swapped amused smiles but said nothing and having settled the overnight issue we continued enjoying the evening.

Later of course my and Simone’s breasts needed emptying and the pair of traders could not believe their eyes when they asked Dawn where we had gone and why so long.

“What are they doing in there?” Shirley wondered.

Dawn said nothing but when we eventually emerged from the shower room we were forced to explain our thirty minute absence. Naturally at first, the pair would not believe us but when we showed them the milking machine and the bottled milk already packaged for the orphanage they had to accept it. Milking dominated the rest of the conversation for the remainder of the evening.
Eventually, the morning’s tramp through the snows took its toll on Shirley and Jasmine. Eyelids started to droop and we soon decided to retire for the night. As I undressed, the pair could not help looking at my wasp-thin waist as their jaws sagged at the ‘merry widow’.

“Good God! How small is your waist?!!”

“Eighteen inches,” I confessed.

“Is that the natural size or when your corseted.”

“It’s much the same,” Simone explained. “As a sissy, Michelle’s waist is more or less permanently corseted except for washing so it’s become that shape permanently.”

“Are you going to take it off?” Jasmine wondered.

I glanced at Simone who always made those sorts of decisions. Simone asked the pair.

“Would you prefer her to be corseted or now?”

Shirley looked at me.

“Which would you prefer Michelle? Would you be more comfortable with it off?”

I had to confess.

“I think I’d prefer it on. It gives my back support and I don’t ache.”

Jasmine and Shirley stared again in amazement.

“What! You mean, that is comfortable?”

“I’m a sissy,” I replied, “sissies have small waists and they need support for their tits.”

To demonstrate, I hefted my luscious bouncy orbs and they wobbled invitingly. Both Shirley and Jasmine looked envious.

“Gosh I wish mine were that firm and that big. I mean; - the milking should surely have turned them into udders.”

“No. They stay like this always, I’m a sissy,” I repeated, “it’s what sissies are.”

“Lucky bitch!” Jasmine mumbled softly but with a smile.

I smiled a little self-consciously but Simone had a sly grin on her face. I knew what was coming next.

“So how are we going to organise this sleep-over? Who gets to cuddle who?”

Both Dawn and Simone noticed Shirley and Jasmine eyeing my tits so, as my mistress Simone made an offer.

“D’you two want to cuddle Michelle?”

Both girls fell silent then nodded shyly.

“Mmm. Could we?” croaked Jasmine as lust overtook her voice.

“You’re honoured guests, of course you can.” Simone replied generously. “Dawn and I will be book ends. Just don’t push us out of bed.”

Needing no more encouragement, I was told to slip into the centre while Shirley and Jasmine stripped to their panties and slipped in either side of me. Dawn and Simone took the outside and soon we were cuddling salaciously as Shirley and Jasmine could not keep their hands of my bouncy boobs and waspish waist. They were experienced lovers of course and therefore refrained from just diving into my ‘pussy’; they knew exactly how to get a girl ‘ready’. I could feel the tension emanating from Simone and Dawn as they anticipated the shock that Shirley and Jasmine were about to get. I felt the same tension too. It behoved me to get both girls well worked up and juicy before they learned of my precious ‘secret’! To this end I behaved somewhat ‘virginally’ and giggled coquettishly if knowing hands strayed too close, too early. Shirley and Jasmine quickly caught onto the game and it was fully thirty minutes of salacious groping and caressing before the tension became too much and delicate fingers started to probe inquisitively against my silky sissy- thong with its thick front control panel.

Without actually taking my thong off and getting me properly horny, it was difficult to feel my flaccid sissy cockette through the fabric. It very much felt like a girl with overly large labia under her panties. Shirley and Jasmine continued playing with my ‘labia’ through the material of my sissy-thong for fully fifteen minutes before they realised I wasn’t getting wet. Meanwhile poor Simone and Dawn were getting wet just anticipating the shriek of surprise when the two in the middle did realise everything was not quite as they expected.
Eventually Jasmine felt forced to ask,

“Aren’t you horny yet Midge?”

“I take a little time darling. Perhaps if I slipped off my panties.”

“Mmm. Pleease.” Shirley sighed lustfully.

Gently I pushed their fingers aside then lifted my butt and slipped my thong off in one easy move. As my butt returned to the mattress inquisitive fingers started to delicately trace over my hips and down into the 'Vee' at the top of my thighs. Then and only then did their wanderings stop abruptly as they jointly fetched up against what appeared to be a somewhat hard and oversized clitty. As their fingers met they both felt my ‘clitty’ growing exponentially until it had literally sprouted into its easily recognisable and favourite natural condition. There was a mutual gasp as surprised fingers urgently ‘tested’ the strange development until both girls finally recognised what they were holding in their hands.

"My God!” Shirley squealed then Janice responded.

“It’s a, - it’s a cock!! She’s got a cock!”

I sighed salaciously and couldn’t resist humping gently against their hands but the pair quickly stopped me as they sat up with beaming grins. I lay back with my head on the pillow nervously wondering where they would take this discovery but I needn’t have worried. Simone and Dawn were there to protect me.

Shirley whipped back the huge duvet to expose my surprise and double check that it really was a natural cock. Jasmine’s eyes widened with delight as Dawn complained.

“D’you mind? I’m getting cold!”

“Why didn’t you tell us this?” Jasmine demanded; ignoring Dawn’s goose bumped protest.

“What’s there to tell?” Simone yawned, feigning disinterest. “You knew she was a sissy. Now can you put the duvet back? I’m getting cold as well.”

“Well, - yes, but I kinda’ thought she was a girl like your sister or something.”

“What! You thought I was sleeping with my sister?”

“Well no, - no, not sleeping with your sister but you know, - like living in the same apartment, sharing and stuff.”

“Well we certainly ‘share and stuff’, including Michelle’s delightful cock, or cockette as we like to call it. You’ll have noticed it’s not ‘full sized’ as it were.”

“Does it work?” Shirley demanded.

“Well of course it works!” Simone grinned. “You’ve just felt it and seen it haven’t you?”

“No! I don’t mean like that, I mean, you know, make fertile sperm.”

“Yee-es it works,” Simone sighed again, “now can we get under the duvet again.”

“Did you hear that Jasmine?” Shirley squeaked. “D’you want to then?

Jasmine needed no encouragement as she pulled the duvet back over our cooling bodies then eagerly slid her eager body over mine.

As she humped passionately, she whispered in my ear.

“I’m right at the best time of my cycle.”

“Oh!” I squeaked, you mean you’re trying, - trying for a baby.”

“You bet. This is just about the best Christmas present you could have given me.”

I immediately double checked with my Mistress Simone who simply acceded.

“If a lady has been given my permission to use you then you must please her in every way you can and as she wants. When we agreed to sleep in this arrangement, I gave my tacit consent so give the lady what she wants. If Jasmine wants a baby then oblige her.”

Who could resist such a consent? With redoubled vigour Jasmine and I were soon addressing Jasmine’s aims. I draw a veil over the remainder of the night. Having made a deal we shared beds until Jasmine’s fertile period was over and we agreed to repeat each month until Jasmine fell pregnant.

On Boxing Day Simone, Dawn and I were taking an easy one and lounging about stuffing our faces with cold turkey and assorted puddings. Shirley and Jasmine were on their phones in the late evening trading the far eastern markets. The snow was still thick and falling intermittently so Shirley and Jasmine could not return to their apartment where their computers lay idle. Although the snow was lying over three feet thick it was still only a couple of doors to the club from our apartment and being as Dick and Charlie lived over, we decided to go to the club. It was desperately quiet for only a few clubbers had made it through the snow. Dick decided to close up early.

When we stumbled back from the club at nearly midnight Shirley was waiting to pounce on me.

“Bev! Ah good, I’m glad your back.”

“Why?” I asked as I stamped the snow off my Uugh boots.

“Well you know you promised to do those equations in your head.”

“Ye-ees,” I replied non-commitedly.

“Can you do these?”

She handed me a piece of paper with about eight complex equations with very high values. I looked at them and frowned.

“These are big numbers.”

“They’re dollar yen trades. There’s billions of dollars riding on the deal and hundreds of billions of Japanese yen.”

“Jee’ze,” I wondered aloud, why such big bloody numbers.

“That’s nothing; you just wait until the Forex market opens. The pound dollar trades are infinitely bigger.”

“So when will that be then?” I asked.

“Not until after the new year. London’s like New York, the trading floors are closed. These trades with Tokyo are exceptional because our trading floors aren’t open. These are private deals for private clients and we haven’t got access to daily figures except by dealing directly with our colleagues in Tokyo.”

“Oh,” I said then had another thought. “Are these trade legal, I mean with the New York exchange being closed?”

“Yes, we’re licensed traders and the global markets never close. We’re actually putting these deals through our Tokyo associates.”

I shrugged, cos’ I knew no better and I ran the figures through my head. When I scanned the answers I remarked.

“Doesn’t seem much to me, zero point nought, nought, nought, two percent.”

“And what’s that as a fraction of one hundred billion dollars Midge?”

“Ahh yes, of course! I wasn’t thinking like that, it was just figures rolling through my head. Yeah. See what you mean now.

That’s a lorra’ lorra’ dosh! So, - somebody’s making some real money.”

Shirley exchanged a slightly embarrassed smile with Jasmine and I suddenly clicked.

“Shit! Some of this is your own money then!”

They blushed and nodded their heads as Simone chipped in.

“D’you always win?”

“No,” Jasmine replied, “but we are two of the most successful traders in our office.”

“So. Do I get my cut then? Being as I did the maths.”

“You’re welcome. Just open a trading account at our office in the New Year and we’ll guide you through the deals.”

Simone, Dawn and I exchanged thoughtful looks, this warranted further scrutiny.