PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS

Although written as a standalone piece, Private Investigations involves many of the same characters as my previous story on this site, ‘Others Prefer It Cool’ and begins on the morning after the events described in that tale. So it’s not compulsory, but you might want to read that one first!
Thanks for reading,
Sue
x

1

I awoke with that deep, languid, contentedness that comes with a good nights sleep. I lay there quietly, still and warm, for a while thinking back to the events of the previous evening – not only had I been out in public dressed as Sue for the first time, but I’d done so at the most glamorous of film premieres attended by the most famous of Hollywood stars. And all thanks to a chance meeting several months ago with the woman whose bed I now occupied, film and television producer Rachel Sixsmith. I rolled over towards her, but her side of the bed was empty and cold. I eased myself up onto one elbow. There, on top of the bedside table was a hastily scribbled note. “Sorry sweetie! Early flight to LA! See you later! X”

I flopped back down onto my pillow and stretched slowly. The sun was streaming in through the tall Georgian sash windows of the bedroom. I reached across for my phone. There was a text message from my flatmate, fellow stage school graduate and best friend, Meg. “How was the prem? X” A calendar pop up reminded me that I had a shift with the catering business for whom we both worked starting at five. It was already well after two. Shit! I reluctantly rolled down the duvet, eased out of bed and made my way groggily towards the bathroom. I surveyed myself in the mirror through eyes still full of sleep. The beautiful silky hair extensions that Tara had put in yesterday would have to come out before I went out to work this evening, back in Dave mode. Similarly the acrylic nail extensions that Jo had done. I hadn’t made a check of which salon the girls came from yesterday – Rachel had arranged for them to come around to the house. Never mind – I was sure there would be a business card with an address somewhere in the house and I could call around on my way back to Meg’s. All that effort for one night. It seemed a shame. I slowly brushed out the tangles until my hair fell gently again in soft curls over my shoulders and down my back. Sighing, I turned my attention to my breast forms. They would definitely have to go before I went to work. There was solvent to remove the adhesive in the bathroom cabinet. At least I thought there was. But as soon as I opened the door, I remembered that I’d used the last of it the last time I’d worn the forms.

I knew I couldn’t cancel work at such short notice. The company operated a ‘Three strikes and you’re out’ policy when it came to cancelling shifts, and I was already on two. But if I could arrange a late replacement, that would work. I texted back Meg. “Prem fab! Tell you all l8r. Can you cover my shift 2nite?” A few seconds later the reply beeped in “Sorry. Working same shift.” I tried again “Know anyone else?” Two minutes later. “Sorry. What’s the prob?” I paced up and down the landing corridor for several minutes trying to think of something. The clock kept ticking. Eventually I decided there was no choice other than to go back to Meg’s whilst there was still time – maybe she would come up with another idea.

Meg and I had met on our first day together at stage school. She was from Leeds and I was from Blackburn, and we bonded instantly as the only northerners in a year group otherwise full of students from posh private schools. Her dad had come to the UK as a student from Nigeria and stayed to work in the NHS. Meg had learnt to look after herself growing up as a black kid in a poor neighbourhood. Where I wouldn’t complain if, for example, someone jumped a queue in front of me, Meg was quite the opposite. As Leeds people would say “She calls a spade a shovel”. Her forthrightness together with her preference for ripe language could come as quite a shock to people who didn’t know her well. In outward appearance she was stunning – elegant, tall and classically beautiful. The contrast had become a source of much amusement for us and over the time we’d known each other she’d become not only a best friend but something of a big sister to me.

I hurriedly pulled on the jeans and t-shirt I’d been wearing when I’d arrived at Rachel’s yesterday. Fortunately, my jacket was baggy enough to accommodate the breast forms without them being too noticeable. I piled my hair up as best I could and quickly strapped my cycling helmet down over it to hold it in place. Jumping on my bike, I set off for Meg’s.

She was on the sofa watching daytime television when I got in.
“Hey Dave! I was just about to start getting changed for work. So, good night then? Did you manage to fix your shift?”
“Great night, yeah. Listen, I’ve still got a problem.”
She turned the television off and turned around to face me. I went on.
“So, you know how it was the ‘Others Prefer it Cool’ premiere last night?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Well, thing is, Rachel persuaded me that it was, you know, in the spirit of things if I went along all dressed up”
“What do you mean?”
“In drag.”
“Oh, cool! Show us the piccies then, come on!”
“I will, but. The thing is, Rachel flew straight out to LA this morning before I got up”
“I don’t follow”
“She, um, arranged for a few things. To make me look better.”
Meg grinned. “Go on…”
“So I, erm…” I took off my cycling helmet and my hair cascaded down. “I er, had extensions put in.”
Meg shrieked.
“And erm…” I took off my gloves and showed her my nails. “Acrylic. I can’t get them off without going back to the salon. But the worse thing…”
I took off my jacket and lifted my t-shirt.
Meg was helpless “Oh. My. God. This is so funny! You’ve got to show me the photos!”
I unlocked my phone and handed it over. She flicked through the pictures from last night.
“Bloody Hell, Dave, is that you? You look fucking gorgeous!”
I squirmed.
“And that’s Jack Jones with you as well, and Diana whatshername…who’s the bloke with the combover?”
“That’s erm, that’s Rachel. She went in drag too.”
“Oh my god, that looks like one amazing party. So come on, tell me all about it.”
“I will, but I’ve got to get out of this mess first. I haven’t got any stuff to get the breast forms off. They’re stuck on. And then I’ve got to sort out my hair and nails…”
She smiled.
“No problem!”
“What do you mean no problem?”
“You made one hot looking chick last night. Do it again tonight for work. I can lend you the uniform. No one will know as long as the numbers stack up”
“Oh, fuck. No.”
“You got any better ideas?”
I was silent.
“And you can’t afford to lose the job.”
I sighed. “Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Meg pulled a black skirt and a plain white cotton blouse from her wardrobe.
“Here. Lucky we’re about the same size. You might need…” she rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a garment I didn’t recognise. “…Spanx. Pull you in a bit if the skirts too tight. Now, what else? Bra…” she rummaged again. “And some black tights. Here you go. Oh, and some shoes. What’s your size?”
“Seven”
“I’m a six. But I’ve some ballet flats that are on the big side. Hmm. Here you go.”
I stood looking slightly lost with her clothes piled in my arms.
“Use the bathroom. When you’re dressed I can give you a hand with your make up.”
“That’s ok, I think I can manage.”
She looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
I went into the bathroom and tried on the skirt. It was tight at the waist, but once I’d wrestled my way into the spanx it fit perfectly. Meg’s make up was spread out on the counter. Over the months I’d been dressing up with Rachel I’d managed to perfect a pretty good glamorous night time look. Perhaps I could just tone things down a bit…
Meg tapped on the door and came in. She was dressed herself now in a similar skirt and blouse.
“How are you getting on? Budge over! I need to do mine as well.”
We stood side by side at the mirror like sisters, occasionally passing across a mascara wand or a lipstick.
“You’ll need to put your hair up. Working with food and all that.”
“Hmm. Can you help?”
Eventually we were finished. Meg looked at me via the shared mirror.
“So. I can’t call you Dave when you’re dressed like this”
“Rachel calls me Sue”
“Calls me?”
“Sorry?”
“You said ‘calls me’, not ‘called me’. As in ‘last night she called me’”. She paused, as though she was about to add something but then thought better of it. “OK. Come on then, Sue. If we don’t catch the next bus we’ll be late.”

The bus was full and we ended up sitting at opposite ends of the top deck. That was a good thing – I could tell Meg was full of questions and I wasn’t ready with any answers. When we got to the venue I made myself busy. There was usually time to chat with the other staff, but tonight I was happy to keep my head down. Occasionally I’d glance up and notice Meg looking over at me from the table she was serving at. I concentrated on staying in the present and simply being Sue. I was a good actor, which helped, but where during the times I’d dressed up with Rachel it had been the sensuality of the clothes and the make up that I’d enjoyed, I’d realised last night at the premiere and again tonight that I felt compellingly comfortable with how other people interacted with me as Sue. After a nervous start, I soon settled in to my role.

The evening passed quickly. Once everything had been finally tidied away and we were ready to leave, I made my way tentatively back to Meg. She was talking to another waiter.
“Oh, hi Sue! This is Rob. He lives a bit further along from us in Acton. He’s offered us a lift home.”
Rob was a local boy, born and bred. He had an easy way with words, and chatted away happily as he drove us home. When I told him I’d graduated from stage school he was fascinated.
“So, I could be telling my friends, in a year or two, when we’re watching telly “I gave her a lift home once’” he laughed. “What kind of stuff do you want to do – you know, stage, or film, or telly?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I’d take just about anything at the moment”
“I see you in films, definitely. Glamorous leading lady stuff.” He looked across at me, grinning.
We were soon back at Meg’s place. We parked up outside and Rob leapt out, dashing around the car enthusiastically before opening my door for me.
“Thanks.” I smiled.
“So, erm, when’s your next shift? I’ll maybe see you then?” he said hopefully.
“I’m not sure at the moment, but that would be nice. Thanks for the lift.”
We said our farewells and I followed Meg quietly into the flat. She stopped just inside the door. I looked at her sheepishly.
“Come here.” She beckoned me to her and enveloped me in a huge hug. “You know you’re my best friend and I love you to bits don’t you?”
I nodded.
“There’s more to this than just a fun night out in drag isn’t there?”
I nodded again.