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Chapter 2: A temporary appointment  

The following morning, I presented my list of suggested tunes to Carol over breakfast. She read it through, thanked me but said that she would prefer not to comment on any of the titles without Beth.

She appeared to be a little anxious about something.

‘When’s Beth coming?’ I asked.

‘She said she’d try to be here by about nine o’clock; she has something to ask you before we make a start,’ she said and began to clear the breakfast table.

‘Do you know what it’s about?’ I asked.

‘She’ll explain to you.’

With that my cousin disappeared into her bedroom where she remained until the doorbell rang a few minutes later. She emerged carrying a black dress on a hanger which she hung on a coat hook by the front door before opening it. Beth came in carrying a couple of packages.

‘Hi Carol, Good Morning Alex!’

‘Hi Beth, I’ve completed that list for you both to consider,’ I began.

‘Thanks, that’s great, we’ll discuss them later,’ she replied.

She put down her packages on the table and turned to Carol.

‘Have you spoken to him yet?’ she asked.

‘No, I was leaving that for you to do, as it was your suggestion.’

‘Spoken to me about what?’ I asked, now intrigued.

‘Well, Alex,’ Beth said carefully picking her words. ‘Carol and I were talking last night after you went to bed. We were really grateful for your help yesterday but we’re still a little anxious about this forthcoming gig.’

She hesitated for a moment looking for the right words, but then decided to take the plunge.

‘So, we wondered whether you’d like to become a temporary member of the ‘Honey Bunnies.’

Bethany’s announcement came as a complete surprise to me. I turned towards Carol to see her reaction, whether they were trying to wind me up, but she seemed to be avoiding my gaze.

‘Do they want me to appear in their line up as a boy, or as a girl?’ I asked myself.

I struggled to remain calm; to appear nonchalant.

‘I thought the ‘Honey Bunnies’ was supposed to be a girl group.’

‘So we are, but you have already demonstrated to us that you have a fine girl’s singing voice. We suspect that with a few artificial aids and adjustments we could have you looking like a passable girl as well - at least for the one performance.’

I struggled to get out a response.

‘What do you mean by artificial aids and adjustments?’

‘I’ve brought some clip in hair extensions with me which are roughly the same colour as your own hair and some shoes that should fit you. We also have the stage dress that Alice used to wear,’ she said pointing to the black dress that Carol had hung next to the door.

‘I can provide you with a bra and a pair of tights and we can use my makeup supplies,’ Carol added.

‘We’ll need to provide you with some boobs but I’m sure we will find a way of doing so convincingly,’ concluded Beth.

I needed a moment to think through the implications of what they’d just said and had to stop myself from appearing too eager.

‘You want me to stand up in front of a large audience and pretend to be a girl?’ I asked.

Beth nodded.

‘They have a drag show at the venue once a month but you're a far better singer than any of the regular performers. I also suspect you’ll look a lot more convincing as a girl than any of them as well. At least let us see how you look when you’re dressed as a girl. If you look ridiculous I promise that we’ll forget all about the plan.’

‘But Carol, what is Aunt Emma going to think?’

She shrugged.

‘I’ve no idea! Mum isn’t planning to be back until this evening, by that time we’ll have safely returned you to the state in which we found you, so she need never know.’

I didn’t respond, as thoughts raced around my brain. The whole idea was so far-fetched – a complete non-starter. There were so many potential problems. But there was no question that they needed some help and the idea of performing once again did have a certain appeal. If I were honest with myself this could be the opportunity I’d always been longing for.

‘Well Alex, what do you think of the idea?’ asked Beth, after a few seconds waiting for an answer.

‘As long as you promise that I’ll be back as a boy before my aunt comes home, I’ll be willing to see how I look, but I’m not making any promises about the performance next week.’

‘It’s a deal,’ she replied and both my companions appeared to be relieved.

Beth and Carol had clearly been working out a plan as they now sprang into action.

‘We’re going to need you to de-fuzz your legs and arms first of all. Carol will then loan you some underclothes and a pair of her tights.’

I went up to my bedroom and did as they instructed, using my electric razor. Fortunately, neither my limbs nor my face were particularly hairy.

‘A razor should be good enough for today, but we may need to use some depilatory cream on your armpits,' said Carol.

‘What if your mother notices?’ I asked.

‘She shouldn’t do so as long as you always wear a t-shirt around the house, and you’ll find that they grow back fairly quickly.’

Once we were finished Beth came in and attached some silicone breast enhancers just below my natural breasts and created a cleavage by pushing them together and wrapping several layers of transparent tape around my chest.

‘I trust this is going to come off without leaving a mark.’

‘Don’t worry, any marks will soon fade and in any event they won’t be visible under your t-shirt,’ she said.

Despite the enhancers, I still needed a little padding inside one of my cousin’s push-up bras but eventually appeared to have quite a convincing pair of boobs and even a cleavage. This was just as well, as the little black dress I was asked to put on had a fairly low-cut top. Nevertheless, it seemed to fit me quite well, apart from the slight appearance of a bulge between my legs.

‘Here, you’d better put this on,’ said Carol handing me a garment.

‘What is it?’

‘It is a home-made gaff made from the top of an old pair of tights and a sock with the toe cut off. It is used to tuck the offending article out of the way between your legs, and keep it there during the performance.’

‘Where did you learn about all this?’ I asked.

‘I looked it up on the internet last night. Advice for female impersonators.’

I did as I was told and was then handed a pair of tights and shown how to put them on. It was quite a nice feeling to have my smooth legs encased in the nylon hose.

‘Have you ever worn high-heels before?’ asked Beth.

‘No I don’t think so.’

‘That is apart from trying on my Mum’s shoes when I was younger and she wasn’t in the flat,’ I thought.

‘It's lucky that you have relatively small feet for a guy, and I have large feet for a girl. You can put these on now and I suggest that you keep them on. The more practice you can get wearing them the better.’

Before I was able to get any practice in the shoes I was asked to sit at the dressing table, but facing sideways so that Carol could do my makeup for me.

‘How long have you had those studs in your ears?’ she asked.

‘I had them pierced last summer,’ I replied.

(That was another thing that Mum and Dad had objected to.)

‘So there should be no difficulty in taking them out and replacing them with a pair of proper earrings.’

‘I’ve only ever taken them out once or twice, but I guess that there will be no problem.’

‘Good, I’ll put in a pair of my pearl drops for now but when it comes to the performance we can all wear a pair of matching chandelier style.’

I wasn’t used to removing and replacing my studs, but I found that the holes had fully healed and it was not such a difficult task to do so. Beth then proceeded to clip in the various hair extensions she had bought.

‘These will take a little time to put in correctly and so we’ll probably need to help you to get ready next Friday evening,’ she said.

‘I haven’t said that I’m going to do it yet.’

‘You will do once you see the finished job.’

'Can I watch what you're doing?' I asked.

'Alright. I guess that you are going to need to know how to do this for yourself.'

Over the next twenty-five minutes or so I watched in the mirror, transfixed, as Carol gradually transformed my face into that of an attractive young woman. She began with my cheeks and then moved on to my eyes, brows and lashes and finally my lips. She used a variety of different cosmetics in bottles, tubes, powders and applicators. Whilst this was going on Beth was working on my hands, pushing back the cuticles, applying acrylic finger nail tips, and holding them in place until they set securely. Once they had set, she applied little blobs of acrylic to the remainder of my nails and then smoothed them down and polished them until it was no longer apparent that they were artificial

‘You have quite slim hands for a guy, you really should have been a girl,’ she commented in a matter of fact way.

I wasn’t sure what to say in response to that comment.

‘I suffered from chronic asthma as a young teenager and this appears to delayed my puberty which is why I’ve remained at five foot five with a fairly high pitched voice and small hands and feet. However, the doctors say that I’m alright now and will probably catch up over the next year or two although I’m unlikely now to grow any taller.’

‘That's the ideal height for our purposes. So long as your voice doesn’t suddenly start to break over the next fortnight - that would be a disaster.’

‘I don’t think that’s likely to happen, I think I’m probably stuck with a relatively high-pitched voice.’

Beth now started to paint lacquer on my new nails.

‘You're sure that you'll be able to get these off in time tonight,’ I said.

‘Yes don’t worry. Just soak the nails in acetone for a few minutes and the acrylic, the tips and the polish will all come off together.'

At last, at 11.15 the girls expressed themselves to be satisfied with their work, and I was helped into the black dress, and given a necklace to match the earrings.

‘Come and have a look at yourself in the full-length mirror in my bedroom,’ suggested Carol.

‘Well, young lady, so what do you think of yourself?’ asked Beth.

I didn’t answer, but just stared at my image in the mirror. To say that I was impressed, or even amazed, would have been an understatement. I looked like the totally convincing young woman that I’d always felt myself to be deep inside my soul.

‘Well?’ asked Carol.

‘I guess I do look ok,’ was all I could manage to reply.

Beth and Carol exchanged glances at one another, but I’d no idea what they were thinking about.

‘So what are we going to call you when you're dressed as a girl?’ asked Beth

‘I don’t know,’ I responded, still in a state of shock.

‘Well for a start it has to be Alexandra’ rather than ‘Alexander’ but that is a bit of a mouthful, and we can’t call you ‘Alex’. How about ‘Xndra?’ suggested Carol?’

‘You could call me Sandy, I guess,’ I said.

‘No Sandy can also be used as a boy’s name. How about Ally?’

‘I don’t mind Ally,’ I replied, this time adopting a slightly higher pitch.

‘Your voice has changed!’ said Beth.

‘Well if I’m going to be dressed like a girl I may as well try to sound like one as well.’

‘Alright so that's agreed then Ally, now that we know you look and sound like a girl we’d better make sure that you can still sing whilst you're wearing a dress and high-heels.’

Over the next hour we all became convinced that I was going to be a useful addition to the Honey Bunnies and not just as a backing singer. There was no further discussion about my taking part in the next gig thereafter, it was simply taken for granted by all concerned. We spent the next three hours going through our repertoire, adapting the songs to three voices where necessary and taking it in turns to take the lead. We also went through my list of suggestions and found seven or eight that we all knew. Bethany or Carol sang the more modern tunes, and I led with some of the twentieth century classics which we’d selected from my list. Yet we all supported one-another and our voices sounded well together so we came up with a well-rounded performance. Eventually we finalised our programme and made a digital recording with brief musical interludes where we wanted the musicians to improvise.

‘So what do you think, Carol?’ asked Beth as we listened to the recording.

‘I think it’s great, it’s the best we’ve ever done,’ she replied.

‘How about you, Ally?’

‘Yes, it sounds pretty good to me,’ I replied.

I didn’t add that I couldn’t remember ever having enjoyed myself so much before.

At five o’clock this was emailed to the leader of the Pompey Players together with an explanation of what we hoped to achieve.

‘OK, you had better help me to get changed now, before my aunt gets back,’ I said to Beth.

‘Yes, of course. I think we’ll need one more practice session and we’ll also have to help you to get ready on Friday night, but we can do that at my place if you like,’ said Beth.

‘Yes I’d prefer that Aunt Emma didn’t know about this as she’s in regular contact with my Mum.’

True to their promise Bethany and Carol had changed me back into a young man by the time Aunt Emma arrived from her weekend away. My boobs were unstuck, leaving a little bit of a mark behind, but which would soon fade, and my nether regions were allowed their freedom once again. The false nails and false hair that I’d been wearing were removed and my earrings replaced by my usual plain studs. I also reverted to my normal voice. I still felt a little different, conscious of my smooth arms and legs, but my Aunt didn’t seem to notice any change in me or ask what we’d done over the weekend. She was more concerned with my plans for the following week.

‘What time do you start your job tomorrow, Alex?’ she asked.

‘Nine o’clock.’

‘How will you get there?’

‘I’ll be able to get a bus tomorrow but will have to walk on those occasions when I’m on a late or very early shift.’

‘You can borrow Susan’s bike if you like, it’s in the garden shed.’

‘Thanks very much.’

I completed the first eight hours of my McJob undergoing my hygiene and safety training. I would begin in earnest the following day and was told to report in at 5.30 am on Tuesday-Thursday as this was a quiet time when I could be shown the ropes without the daytime rush. It was a gruesome time to have to cycle in to work, but at least it meant that there would be no danger of clashing with any rehearsal for the Bunnies on Thursday or our performance on Friday. The restaurant manager stressed that what he was looking for in his staff was willingness to work hard and be flexible. He trusted that we would be flexible with our hours and in return he would do his best to accommodate any commitments we might have.

The work was not difficult but boring and things could get hectic at breakfast time and during the lunch time rush. Our hours were cleverly organised and there were three compulsory but unpaid half hour breaks which meant that the morning shift did not finish until 2.30 pm after the lunchtime rush, and the afternoon shift started at midday. I quickly discovered that the appeal of having as many hamburgers and as much coffee as I wanted quickly wore off. I also asked the manager about arrangements for me to be paid and was told that I’d receive my wages at the end of a fortnight. Payments would be made to me by an agency, who would charge me an administrative fee (deducted from my wages) for doing so.

‘Is that legal?’ I asked one of my new colleagues at work. ‘I thought we had to get the minimum wage.’

He smiled.

‘Welcome to the real world. They expect total dedication and flexibility on your part, but just wait until you want them to do something for you.’

Beth called round to see us on Wednesday evening after I’d finished work.

‘The guys say that they liked the tape but are asking for a rehearsal tomorrow evening. Alex can get changed at my house if he wants, and I’ve already told Mum that we’ll be getting ourselves ready there on Friday afternoon. Dad has promised to give us a lift in to the venue.’

‘That’s just as well as my Mum is likely to be at home,’ said Carol.

‘So will you be telling the musicians about me?’ I asked.

‘They already know that we’ve recruited a substitute for Alice’, said Beth.

‘But will you tell them about Alex?’

‘No I think that might worry them. It will be best if we keep Alex on a ‘need to know basis’ said Beth.

‘I agree,’ said Carol.

‘What is Ally going to wear for the rehearsal?’ asked Beth.

‘That’s a good point. We don’t want her spoiling the stage costume. I expect I’ll be able to find her something of mine to wear, if she can borrow your shoes,’ said Carol.

It sounded odd, but in some respects it was quite nice to hear the other me referred to as ‘she’ and ‘her’. It helped me to keep separate the two identities.

‘What time will you finish work tomorrow, Alex?’ Beth asked.

‘I should be back here by three.’

‘If you both come to my place as soon as you get back we’ll be able to get you changed into Ally before Mum and Dad get home from work – that way there’ll be no awkward questions for us to answer.’

‘As long as you're sure you know what you're doing,’ I said.

‘Don’t worry everything will be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

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