Charles is now at Jane's Winsome Girls' School for Wayward Boys. He has volunteered to become one of Jane's girls to help Jane not only clear his name but to help Francis. He has a lot to learn about being a girl in a short amount of time, as Toby Camber is arriving at the school in a weeks time. Something else occurs that Charles wasn't expecting, he learns something else about himself while being Charlotte.

CHAPTER 74
“Minibus is leaving, love. You need to get down the hill”

“Mam, I don’t know! I’m sure I’ve forgotten something—just can’t think what it is!”

She stepped forward for a hug, bringing a smile with her.

Andrew has a choice to make

Allison has dealt with her first client, a man named Des, where they smoked some smokes that were relaxing. However Allison is less relaxed leaving Des’s voter’s apartment. This despite Des’s insistence it was a good talk. What he’d explained to her didn’t sit well with Allison. Especially him saying, to sum all he said up, “Voting doesn’t change things. Laws don’t enforce things. People change things. People enforce things.” As if some dismissal of the reality of the station was as easy as a wave of his hand.

He did suggest she meet her friends, and even suggested where they go. The only reason Allison is going to where Des recommended is because Des admitted the woman there, the woman who owns the place, Jenny, might be able to help more than he could. Allison figures she might as well try; she’s tired. No-one’s been outwardly hostile, but with the twists and turns she just wants to relax, and have someone actually help her. She really, really hopes she can just relax. Even if there’s no help... Just relax...

My name is Anastasia Johnson, Annie for short. I was a high school Junior with 4.0+ grades and babysitting two children, twin girls, age 8 years old, the evening that this happened. Their parents arrived home earlier than usual and with them came the husband’s brother, Blake. I was rushed and as soon as they paid me, I was in my little car and on the way home.

My name is Yves Thomas. That’s Yves, as in Yves Saint Laurent and Yves Montand, who were famous Frenchmen of the 1950s and 60s, or so my parents tell me.

Apparently neither of those two, unlike my parents, was actually born in France so that makes three of us. My surname might seem typically British but it’s possibly even more common in France.