The one where Kim makes a decision

Kris yet again worked miracles, not because the script was bad, but because she was having a really crappy day, her laptop has been pronounced D.O.A. and she still managed to get this back to me. Well done Kris!

Antoine’s was a fairly intimate place and involved a dinner for the two of us.

“So how are you getting on?” she asked.

I don’t know quite what she expected me to say. So far over the last two days, I had been plonked into a situation I clearly had little or no control over and wasn’t at all sure which way was up. Were I at home I would no more of dreamed of dressing this way than flying unaided, but here I was, dolled up to the nines, as a girl.

I could see that the dinner and dance outing was well, probably a bit of a joke, but to continue to push me out into the big, wide world like this was fast losing its appeal — if it had any to begin with.

I knew I was fighting against something that I couldn’t do much about, well not immediately and it felt like falling — I knew I couldn’t stop it and I also knew that the fall itself wasn’t going to be bad, but the sharp stop at the end, now that was something else entirely.

“Alright, I suppose.” I said, not really sure why what was happening was happening and definitely unsure that dressing me up like some cheap alternative to the Spice Girls was the answer to my predicament. I wondered why rather than taking me to dinner, she couldn’t have sported the cash for some emergency clothing?

“Huh!” she said, looking somewhat deflated. “There’s gratitude for you.”

“It’s not that I’m not grateful, it’s just that I don’t feel right like this. I appreciate how much support people have given; donating their clothes and whatnot, but I’m not a girl, I’m a boy — well man and…” I shrugged and looked back at my wine glass.

“Are you sure? You look better than some girls I have seen and a damned sight more attractive than you did when you first came on board.”

There was no denying that my current guise was better presented, but that didn’t detract from the fact that what I was, (was) well, male and what I looked like was female. Whether I looked better as one over the other wasn’t the point. I leant across the table and said the next part quietly.

“Why can you not understand that just because I don’t look particularly masculine, doesn’t mean I will just drop straight into the guise of a girl and enjoy it. I’ve spent my whole life — short as it is — knowing I’m no stud to look at, but I’ve got used to it and that’s the way it is. Despite my shortcomings, I still want to look male, or as near as I can manage, not this, this… whatever you’ve made me into.” I said plucking roughly at my blouse and making Donna wince.

The rest of dinner was rather more subdued. Donna kept throwing me glances, I suspect to see whether I was likely to get angrier than she thought I was already. I wasn’t angry, just frustrated. I didn't feel I fitted like this and wanted out. I wanted to be dressed in clothes I felt comfortable in and sit on the deck, drifting along enjoying the cruise, but if the last couple of days were anything to go by, that wasn’t likely.

There was something I’d observed about women and that is that as long as they haven’t got a face like a bag of spanners and a halfway reasonable bod, they will get hit on. I was hit on plenty during the dance and I didn’t like it then. I didn’t suppose that more exposure to it would make it any better but it did kind of go with the territory. However, spending the rest of my three week cruise politely telling blokes to sod off wasn’t my idea of fun.

“Look, I know it’s not the perfect situation, but I was planning on going to the nightclub after this. Why don’t you come along? If it’s no good you can always leave.” There was me thinking I had got away with not having to ‘shake my thang’ and there I was — again. This time though, it wasn’t in a fairly brightly lit ballroom, but more intimate surroundings and with music that was much more up my street. This time Donna’s idea to go to the nightclub was welcome.

I kept thinking about Lucy and well, you know how it goes — thinking I’d got a chance, if only I could get back into man-clothes.

My heart nearly missed a beat when there she was. She came rushing over to me and nearly swept me off my feet.

“I’m so glad you came.” she said, giving me a hug.

“I’m glad you’re here. I would feel a bit like a fish out of water without you.”

“You needn’t, you wouldn’t be alone for long.”

I wanted to tell her that being alone would be preferable to being preyed upon by men. I just smiled and we went to the bar to get some drinks.

I was hoping to dance with her and we did, but together, not ‘together’, which I suppose was expected, but soon enough, fellas were dancing with us and whilst I felt rather uncomfortable, she was in her element.

I was dreading the slow dance and bowed out after a couple of numbers only to be followed back to the table I had found by the guy who thought he was dancing with me. Well we WERE in the same vicinity, but… Anyway, his name was Saul and he was all about him. “I this…” and “I that…” and within minutes I was almost yawning.

Fortune smiles on the brave though and having not told him to bugger off like I was thinking, he was still yakking on and on when Lucy and her fella, Eric, returned. She sat down beside me and we started chatting amongst the four of us, which was no mean feat with the loud music.

When our glasses were empty, I was going to do the gentlemanly thing and get refills — I’m going to have to remember about this as there ARE advantages to being part of the fairer sex — but Eric offered instead.

“What do you think?” asked Lucy as the two blokes disappeared towards the bar.

“What about?”

“Eric, silly.”

“Oh, um, I don’t know. Do you like him?”

“I don’t know. He’s a bit full of himself.”

“Mine too. Didn’t stop talking about himself all the time you were dancing.” We laughed at the daftness of men and decided that we’d have a drink with these two and then give them the bum’s rush, I think Lucy had the idea that we would find more suitable beaus. I was just hoping to get the hell out of there.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying the sounds or the atmosphere, but I wasn’t in any way pleased at the prospect of watching Lucy team up with some la-di-dah Neanderthal and bugger off with him, leaving me to team up with some other equally macho slob, whose idea of impressing a girl was half of lager, a quick jig on the dance floor, then out the back for a swift knee-trembler.

Saul and Eric returned and were looking quite smug. They put drinks down in front of each of us and sat down. I don’t know quite what was on their minds — well I do, but I was trying desperately to steer well clear of all that mucky stuff.

We were both a little tipsy and were doing things that girls do, clowning around, getting quite close to one another and when I turned my head to see her face just an inch or two from mine, I took my chance and gave her a kiss, which got a roar of approval from the two guys.

The response wasn’t exactly what I expected or hoped for, but in the cold light of day, I guess that to suddenly find yourself, lips crushed together with those of another girl, may well be a little disconcerting. It wasn’t for me, but then I wasn’t a girl (despite appearances) and I was thinking about her from a guy’s perspective. Boy this could get very confusing.

She just giggled and I could see that it was all taken in fun; you know the way girls can be so close as to appear intimate without fearing being seen as lezzies.

For me it was quite a rush. God I wish she had taken that kiss as seriously as I.

Anyhow, by the end of the evening, we were pretty razzed and having ditched Saul and Eric, we wandered back towards her cabin arm in arm, singing the refrain from a song by a popular beat combo, whilst trying to walk in a straight line and not giggle quite so much. We reached the door to her cabin and although I wanted to give her another kiss, she hugged me instead and then kissed my cheek.

“I’ve had a really good time.” she said and giggled again. “Good night Kim, see you tomorrow.”

I wandered back towards Donna’s cabin, but found it locked and knocking didn’t get me anywhere, so I headed back to mine.

The next morning I had a bit of a hangover and having just crashed out on arrival back at my cabin, I looked like a panda too. As much as washing got the majority of the makeup off and looking better, I needed some remover to clean it off properly. I also needed a change of clothes. The only place I knew I could get them was Donna’s cabin. This living between the two, wasn’t working out particularly well, since she was the only one with a key for hers.

Still she was up and about when I got there and didn’t seem in the least bit distressed that I had gone back to my cabin the night before. I showered, cleaned myself up and reapplied some eyeliner, since it was the only thing I knew how to do properly, humming the same tune that Lucy and I had been singing on the way back after the nightclub.

“Who’s a happy bunny this morning then?” asked Donna as I exited the bathroom, combing my hair. I just shrugged; looking a little smug I suppose and grinned. “Well, well, well and don’t we look nice this morning?”

This looking ‘nice’ was something I was actually getting into. The fact that it was looking girly nice didn’t seem to matter. I enjoyed the compliments I was getting for having made an effort, however simply the things I did were done. True I had a lot to learn about makeup, but slapping a bit of eyeliner on was something after a couple of stabs in the eye, one tends to get good at quite quickly.

“How did you get on last night?” she asked on the way to the breakfast bar.

“I got a bit drunk.” I replied.

“I know that, but what about the other thing?” she pressed, nudging me with her elbow and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

I was about to ask “What other thing?” but remembered the two fellas Lucy and I were with, then the penny dropped. She thought that Lucy and I got off with a couple of blokes. How many times was I going to have to tell her that I wasn’t that way inclined?

“Oh, you know…” I said and left it hanging. There were far too many people about to start trying to explain to someone that didn’t want to hear that I hadn’t even got into kissing, let alone horizontal jogging.

“Ah-ha!” she exclaimed and it was her turn to look incredibly smug. I on the other hand, shook my head resignedly and considered putting the next one into the ships hospital just to show her what can happen when you try touching me where it matters.

Breakfast was cool. Some hot coffee and croissants was fast becoming a firm favourite with me. I was usually a cornflakes and cup of tea bloke - if that most days. Maybe it was the sea air.

Lucy was coming in with another couple as I was finishing up. I was glad I took the time to have a shower and make myself look presentable.

It seemed odd now I come to think about it; that I should be applying makeup and putting clean and pressed girl clothes on to impress another girl. On the face of it, for a boy, it’s the most natural thing in the world, but when you consider that I look like a girl and I’m trying to impress a girl who’s into boys…

Perhaps I was deluding myself. The kissing thing was something that was drink induced. Sober, I don’t suppose she would stand for that. I guess I could try and find out, but right now, having someone that I thought trustworthy was much more important than the thought of a short bout of tonsil hockey under the life boat — in lieu of there being no bike sheds.

“Hi Kim.” she said with a note of hangover in her voice.

“So this is the famous Kim is it?” said one of the older couple who entered the breakfast bar with her. Well, I say ‘older’ but they couldn’t have been more than thirty-five if that.

“Sorry. Pete, Gil, this is Kim. Kim, this is my Uncle Pete and Aunty Gil.”

“I’m not your auntie, Lucy!” the young woman admonished.

“Well, it’s easier than telling the truth.”

I wondered what that meant, but it was followed by a few seconds of awkward silence that often hangs in front of you after someone puts their foot in it as Pete, Gill and Lucy all looked as though they wished they hadn’t bothered getting up that morning.

“The croissants are very good today and the coffee’s delicious as usual.” I said brightly, trying to divert the attention from two red faces and one look of obstinacy. No prizes for guessing who was looking tight-lipped and obstinate.

When breakfast was over and everyone had stopped looking daggers at Lucy, who was studiously playing the part of the aloof teenager, she grabbed me and nearly dragged me out of the breakfast bar. Pete shouted “where are you going?” and Lucy rolled her eyes.

“As if I can go far on this tin can!” she said tutting loudly.

I couldn’t help but smile. There we were, probably a good couple of hundred miles from anything that could remotely be described as dry land and they were asking her where she was going. She pulled me to her, threaded her arm through mine and we wandered off down the deck, the slightly chilly breeze blowing through our hair. We walked in near silence, just the odd sentence here and there to punctuate the sound of the sea and the breeze.

It was then that it dawned on me. I was assuming that Lucy wasn’t into me, yet she clearly was, but in what way? The one thing that I hadn’t done was ask her about it.

“Um, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” I asked; my voice no more than a hoarse whisper.

“Sorry, what was that?” she asked. I blushed.

“Would you like to join me for dinner?” I asked.

My heart was in my mouth as I watched closely for a reaction. She seemed to think about it for a while before telling me what I least wanted to hear.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” she said.

“Why?” I asked. “You like me and I like you. What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t want to be with you — that way.”

“What; you’ll eat breakfast with me and walk arm in arm down the decks of this ship, but you won’t eat dinner with me?”

“Um, it’s a bit more than that.”

“Well; what more?” I asked.

“I can’t say.” she said and broke away from me, running off up the deck and round the corner.

“What did I say?” I wondered, which was followed swiftly by “Why me?”

I wandered dejectedly back to Donna’s cabin and knocked on the door. I needed to tell her that one way or another I needed to get back to being Kim the slovenly, unkempt, but above all — Male.

I had less money now than I started with and I was trying to formulate a plan for getting some clothes as an alternative to looking like a teenage girl, which wasn’t doing anything for my love life and whilst I had learned the skill of makeup application and how to pick out an outfit, but that wasn't really what I wanted, was it?

Donna answered the door.

“This really isn’t a good time, Kimmy. Can you come back in an hour, no make it two?”

“Brilliant!” I thought as she closed the door. “This is just getting better and better.”

I wandered even more dejectedly back to my cabin. That noisy hole in the depths of beyond and wondered whether I should bother to ever come back out again. I was about to turn into the corridor and go down to my cabin when I heard voices.

“You haven’t seen him?” said a woman’s voice. I was sure I recognised it but couldn’t quite place it.

“How can you call that a him?” said another, a man this time.

“There’s no need to be like that, it’s not his fault.”

“Wouldn’t catch me getting caught up in all that, I mean, imagine dressing up as a girl for God’s sake.” The man laughed, a bitter derisive laugh that made me want to go and confront him, but I just hung back.

“You’re a nasty, nasty man, d’you know that?” said the woman.

“And I should care why?”

“Just tell him that Margaret’s looking for him.”

“I’ll try and remember.”

“Make sure you do. Cabin 15C.”

I imagine that was the officer that knocked on my door the other day. There I was thinking that I had passed with flying colours and all the time he already knew and that was confirmed as first Margaret went past and then a couple of seconds later, the officer sauntered past too. I slipped quietly round the corner to my cabin.

I was stuffed. I thought Donna and a few of her friends were the only ones who knew I was not a girl, but it appears I was wrong.

I took my shorts and shirt down to the ships laundry and waited for them to do before I almost ran back to my cabin. I got out of Kim-en-femme, into Kim, scrubbed my face to try and clear off all the makeup, slicked my hair back into something a little more befitting for a boy and headed for cabin 15C.

To be continued…