Happy New Year everyone. I hope that it isn't as bad as a lot of people think it will be, as I have plenty to post this 2025.
Marianne
Chapter 1
Have you ever had that feeling that you were being watched? I was out of the office getting lunch at my favourite kebab outlet when I had that feeling, like someone had walked over my grave.
I looked around, furtively, and didn’t see anyone obviously looking my way, so finished my lunch and walked back to the office. I work in political research, with an independent company that would find out about anything, for anyone. We were generally helpful but would never back anyone who used our findings the wrong way.
My work included a lot of searching websites and social media platforms for the dirt that even sensible people had added to the medium. It’s amazing what teens will put up for fun, then try to deny when they want to look ‘responsible’. There was the growing animosity between political parties all over the world, and we were in high demand. The work didn’t pay as much as financial companies, but we weren’t paid badly.
A week later, I was looking in a shop window at suits, wondering if I needed another one, when I had the shiver up my back. I used the reflection to see if I could see someone that I recognised. I did, but it wasn’t somebody I had ever met. I saw him walk towards me.
“Excuse me. Lauren? Lauren Havers?”
“Sorry, no. I’m Garth, her younger brother.”
“I’m very sorry, with the hair and the stance, you looked so much like Lauren in her successful times, before she gave it all away. Are you in touch with her?”
“I am, actually. I saw her a couple of months ago on the occasion of the christening of her second child, another daughter.”
“Is she well?”
“As well as she can be, considering the abuse she suffered at the hands of that bastard agency owner. Your boss, too, if I’m not mistaken. I hope he rots in that prison they sent him to.”
“I was just a lowly studio assistant at that time. I had seen him in action, but he had built a wall around him with payoffs and threats. It wasn’t just the girls that he abused, he was a true non-discriminatory predator.”
I could see that he looked uncomfortable when he said that, and I felt sorry for him. I held my hand out to shake.
“My sister told me a lot about her life, and she has shown me lots of photos. I believe that I saw your face on the Morocco shoot.”
“You have a great memory. I was there and as excited to be working alongside the fabulous Lauren Havers as every other teenager would be. She was very kind to me, and always ready to help out with the setting up of a shoot. I suppose that she had done the same, hundreds of times, and I learned a lot, which held me in good stead when the brown stuff hit the fan. Who would have thought that a bunch of girls saying, “Me too” would bring such a big name to his knees.”
“It put a lot of you out of work, though, so it wasn’t all good.”
“I had been talking to another company, so I was ready for the crunch. Others weren’t so lucky.”
He gave me his card, and I read that he, Hugh Withers, was now a talent scout. I laughed.
“If you thought that you could sign my sister up to rejoin that madhouse, you would have been very disappointed. She’s living in Canada, with her media owning husband and her two daughters and three large dogs. She would never come back, even if she wasn’t ten years older than she was then.”
“Look. It’s been good talking to you. I’m sorry for the mistaken identity, but, from the back, you looked so much like her when I saw her last.”
For some reason, I gave him my card. Who knows, his company may want the dirt on a competitor one day. I went back to work and forgot about it. About six months later, I had a call put through to me in my office.
“Good afternoon, Garth Havers. Can I help you?”
“Garth, it’s Hugh Withers. We spoke some time ago when I mistook you for your sister. I wonder if we could meet, as there is something I would like to discuss with you. If you could make it, I have a table booked at the Ritz, tomorrow evening, at seven. I think that you may find it an interesting conversation.”
“I’m up for a free meal at the Ritz any day. You have me intrigued.”
“Just ask for the Withers table when you arrive. I’ll be there about six-thirty. Thank you for agreeing to come along.”
Not one to walk into something blind, I pulled his card from my desk drawer and did what I usually do if I wanted to know more about something. I found that Hugh came from a good family, with a good degree in Media Studies, and looked to be living a totally law-abiding life after the agency business. He was now working for an agency that found talent for TV programs, especially reality shows. I knew that I wasn’t being spoken to about any of those, as I could only cook the easy stuff, wasn’t an outdoors person, or a petrol head.
I went to the dinner with a good suit on, well, that’s what you do for the Ritz. When I was shown to the table, Hugh and two other men stood to shake hands. One was a person who had used my company to find all the rules concerning filming in the Pyrenees for a reality show. There was a lot of grey areas between what the French allowed, and the Spanish didn’t.
After some general talk, we ordered our meals. Then the one I had never seen spoke.
“Garth, I’m Albert Collie, a director of documentaries. We are thinking of putting together a program about the man that Hugh, and your sister, worked for. Hugh told me that he had mistaken you for Lauren Havers. Seeing you tonight has been an eye-opener. You have a lot of her movements. You are now about the age that she was during the trial. I’m asking if you could help us out when we start filming. We need someone who looks like her for long shots when we re-create the scenes. At the moment, it’s only going to be a twenty-minute segment on a behind-the-scenes news show.”
“You don’t expect me to wear a dress, I hope!”
“No, it will be enough to give you a wig and you would be wearing women’s slacks. Maybe just standing still in heels, but not much more than that.”
“What is the purpose of the segment? To whitewash or to tell the truth. If I say I’ll do it, I’ll need to clear it with my sister.”
“It all happened ten years ago, and there are some around who are building similar walls around their evil doings. We want to highlight what to look out for to a new generation. It will be warts and all, with some footage from the time. The problem is the lack of footage from inside the court. Without that, it’s just reporting, and loses sharpness. If you do join us, we’ll send you to see your sister with the shooting details so that she can see for herself before you sign on. What do you think?”
“Look, I would be happy to bring more grief on the predator that gave her a hard time. Pencil me in.”
We had a good meal and an interesting talk. I was given two more business cards to research later, and they promised to be in touch as things progressed. There were several other models from those days that they needed to find stand-ins for.
I had only been a couple of years in primary school when Lauren got into fashion, and just into secondary when the trial was on. All I knew was that it had been stressful to my parents. Lauren was ten years older than me, and twenty-one when the trial started, twenty-two when she retired. She had a short, but fantastic, career and had been featured in every fashion magazine in the world, walking away with her head held high and a million pounds in the bank.
Our family wasn’t envious of her money. My parents had a successful accountancy business and we had all grown up in a large home. I had an older brother, Hugo, who had been born a couple of years after Lauren, and had forged a good career in the army, now an acting colonel in Military Intelligence. There was also another sister, Molina, or Molly to us, who had followed Lauren into fashion, but in the support area of dressing and make-up for big shows. I was the youngest of the family, and a bit of a surprise to my mother, who thought that she was no longer able to bear children. Being a child of the computer age, my leanings were different to my brother, preferring watching a screen, only to find out that this was what he did a lot of, but it was satellite images that he was looking at.
When they did get in touch, I was asked to attend a meeting with the crew and the rest of the cast. It was at the TV station, in the evening, and I was interested to see what they had put together. When I arrived, I was directed to a conference room, where I sat with some very pretty girls and a few older men. The director, Albert Collie, introduced himself, then told us what the current state of play was.
“Right, folks. We now have all those who we need to recreate the trial of a man who is currently behind bars, but still saying that he had done nothing wrong. We have those who will play the legal side, and those who will stand in for the models. We will use a lot of footage from the times, and most of you will just have standing around shots and will be made up to look like the models of the day.”
One girl put up her hand.
“Excuse me, but Lauren Havers had the biggest part of bringing him down. Who will be playing her?”
“We have Garth Havers, her brother, here with us today. I know that he’s no femme fatale, but he has a natural stance that has fooled some of us that are old enough to have seen Lauren at the time. The plan is for you to just re-create the scenes outside the court, as you’re arriving and leaving, as well as general scenes in a set that we’ll build of the court. None of you have speaking parts, as most of the commentary will be just that, commentary from a voice-over specialist. The big news that I have for you, today, is that we will now be expanding the segment to be a full one-hour show, an instalment of a series called ‘Great Crimes Explained’. It gives us a bit more leeway to expand our original ideas. The details are in these documents which each of you will take with you and study. We want our re-creation to look so much like the real thing, it will fool even those who were there.”
The others took their documents and left, but Albert held me back, giving me two copies.
“There’s one for you and one for Lauren to look at. I’ve clipped my card to it so she can contact me about any changes she wants to make. If you can go and see her soon, give us the receipts and we’ll reimburse you.”
The next week, I arranged with my employer to take a four-day weekend and booked a flight to Montreal on the Thursday evening. I would spend the weekend with Lauren and fly back on the Monday afternoon. I rang Lauren to tell her that I was coming over and when I would arrive.
Everything went to plan, and when I cleared immigration at Montreal, she was waiting for me. She gave me a hug, so I dropped my bag and hugged back.
“It’s good to see you, Gee. This is a mysterious visit, out of the blue. Have you come to tell me that you’ve got yourself married?”
“Nothing like that, Lor. It will take a little while to talk about it. We can start as we’re going back to the house. How are my favourite nieces?”
“They’re doing fine. Conrad is looking after them at the moment. Is that the only bag?”
I told her it was, and she led me out to the car park, where she pressed a button and the lights on a Lincoln Town Car flashed. As we left the airport, I started telling her about the documentary, and how I was mistaken for her by Hugh Withers. I told her that I had a copy of the show detail for her in my bag.
At the house, we went inside, and Conrad gave me a man-hug. I liked Conrad. He was a multi-millionaire and just as normal as the guys I worked with. They were a bit OTT as well.
“Welcome back, Garth. I’m told it’s just for a few days. What’s it all about?”
“He’s taking a role in a TV documentary about the trial that I starred in. For some strange reason, they think that he’ll be playing me. I think it will need an awful lot of pancake make-up to be even close.”
“Lauren, I’m only to be in long shots because they think that I stand like you, and they can make my back view look like you in long shots.”
“They’ll have to site the camera across the street, brother, before that happens. I suppose they have current models to play the other ones who blew the whistle?”
“Yes, and look-alikes to play the legal eagles, with a lot of the show being newsreel footage from the time. I have the show detail here. Why don’t you have a read, see what you think, and we can talk about it tomorrow.”
We went to bed, and nothing was said at breakfast, with much of that taken up with getting the girls fed. Conrad took me to his golf club where we played a round to allow Lauren some quiet time to read the documents. We had lunch at the clubhouse and went home to find Lauren sitting in the lounge, with her feet curled under her and the document open.
“Gee, I have to say that they’ve done their homework. I see that they have listed the sort of clothes I had worn to the trial. It was all slacks or long skirts, as we were told to look like upstanding young ladies, rather than models in minis. With a good stylist, I expect that anyone could be a stand in for any one of us. Why you?”
“It’s purely on the fact that I’m the height you were at the time, and my general stance and movement has made those who knew you mistake me for you. It must be something to do with our genes, or something. Look, if you want changes made, or even don’t want it done at all, feel free to give me something to take back with me next week. I wasn’t old enough to appreciate whether this is faithful to the events. All I do know is that your evidence was enough, added to the others, to put him in prison. The producer wants this show to highlight what to look out for with others following that evil path.”
“I’ll endorse the project. I have a few things from those days that may help. You know me, like the rest of the family, I never throw anything away until it’s totally useless. I’ll have a look, this afternoon, and we’ll see if they fit you.”
“Fit me?”
“Of course. There’s nothing that will bring the event to life than the clothes I was wearing at the time. They could fob you off with look-alikes, but nothing can beat the real thing. It’s best that you try them here, in private.”
I played with my two nieces for a while, allowing Conrad some time in his office. When they were both tired, I laid them on a blanket in their playpen. I looked up to see Lauren looking at me.
“You know, Gee. One day you’ll make some lucky man a good wife. And do I have the bridal collection for you. I’ll tell Conrad to listen in on the monitor, then we’ll go and see what kind of actress we can make you.”
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
“Oh yes. I have, somewhere in my photo collection, a picture of you being Christened, wearing the same gown that I, and our siblings, were wearing when it was their turn. You’ve worn a dress of mine already, so this shouldn’t be a stretch too far. Come on, time to man up and face your worst fears – learning that we women have the best place in this world.”
I followed her to a spare room, after she had spoken to Conrad. There was a huge wardrobe that was standing open, with some skirts and tops laid on the bed.
“This is my ‘Cabinet of Historical Horrors’. On the dressing table you can see that there’s a scrapbook open to the trial times. What is on the bed is the outfit I wore in the day I gave my evidence. Strip to your undies, and we’ll see if you can get it on. We can worry about undies later on. Anything that gives you a shape will do, and I’m sure that Molly will want to be part of this. I might even fly over to see the shooting.”
When I was down to my undies, we tried the skirt, which fitted perfectly, but hung straight down from my waist. The top was a bit loose on me, but Lauren declared that it could be padded out. From then, we looked at the pages of newspaper clippings, finding almost every outfit she had worn and seeing if it fitted me.
With the last one I was wearing, which happened to be a knee-length dress, she went and got some new tights in a packet, opening it and teaching me how to put them on without putting a finger through them. Then we tried all the shoes, some that I nearly fell over in when I stood up. She left the room and came back with a suitcase. She packed every item I had tried on, including the shoes.
By the time I had redressed in my own clothes, I had become inured to the fear of wearing female outfits and had gained an appreciation of how they felt against my skin. On Sunday, we went through her scrapbook, with me taking pictures of the important clippings. They were transferred to a CD, which went into the case, along with one other item that I had read about in the clipping of the last day that the prosecution offered its case. It was the day that Lor was in the witness box.
On Monday, before I left, she took me shopping in Montreal, buying me all the items that she had used to ensure that she looked gorgeous. Not cosmetics, but moisturising cream, shampoo and conditioners, cuticle tools and a woman’s electric depilator. When I questioned the last item, she told me to start using it after I had shaved to give me the smoothest skin I had ever had.
Back in London, I was asked about having a case full of women’s clothes. Which showed on the X-Ray. I explained that they were for an exhibition which was being proposed on my sister’s career. Out in the concours, Molly, my sister, was waiting for me.
“Gee, Lor called me to tell me what you’ve let yourself in for. I’ll take care of that case, and get the contents cleaned. I know the TV company that is looking at that program, and I’ll see if I can get onto the team as your dresser. Lor sent me a picture of you in one of the outfits, and I really couldn’t see you there at all.”
“Thanks, Sis, that’s all I need. If I look so much like her, why am I still an office geek, and not on the cover of Vogue?”
“Probably because you haven’t tried to be. Who knows what the show might throw in your direction?”
“Other than jeers of derision?”
“Don’t be such a wet blanket. Did you park your car?”
“No, I took an Uber, it works out cheaper if you’re away more than a couple of days.”
“I’ll take you home, then, and you can give me all the gen on this show.”
“If you return it, I’ll lend you the documentation that they gave me. I think that I packed it in the suitcase. Lor said that you would sort out the other things I would need, so I guess that we will be seeing a bit more of each other for a while.”
“One rule before we see each other is for you to look after yourself. Get a good shampoo and conditioner from a good store and wash your hair every other day. Don’t get it cut and I’ll be able to create Lor’s look from that period. You don’t have far to go before it’s long enough, but it’s far too shaggy at the moment.”
“Lor already went down that road. I have the shampoo, conditioner, and moisturiser in my bag.’
She dropped me and my bag off at the apartment block, and I went up to drop the bag, going back out to a local pub where I knew I could get a decent meal. Tomorrow, I will be back at my desk, fielding questions about what I was doing over a long weekend. The perennial one was if I had met a woman. I smiled at the thought of telling them that I had met someone new, and it was another me.
When I was in bed, that night, the thought that I could be playing my glamorous sister kept coming back to haunt me. As far as I was concerned, she had been a legend, rather than just a model. Although I didn’t envy her money, I realised that I had envied her lifestyle. While I’m stuck in an office, searching for things that people had done, her life was being out there, doing those things for real.
The next morning in the office, it was as I had expected. After the tenth question, I relented, and told them that I had been to see my famous sister, to see if she had any old outfits I could borrow as I was going to enter as a contestant in the RuPaul show. That stopped the questions, but it did start the gossip mill with everyone wondering if I had finally developed a sense of humour. At least it allowed me to concentrate on what I was paid to do.
A month later, I had a text message with the shooting dates, so sent it to Molly and then went off to see my manager about some leave without pay. When I asked, he smiled.
“Got the schedule for the drag show, have you?”
I showed him the text message.
“I have, here are the shooting dates.”
“Oh, come on, Garth. I thought that everyone was having a joke.”
“No joke, boss. I will be on set for those three weeks. It’s not RuPaul but is a story about my sister and the agency boss that her evidence put into prison. It’s ten years since the trial.”
“So, why do they need you?”
“Because they think I look like my sister, or enough to fool people from the back. They tell me that I stand like her, but I can’t see it.”
“You wouldn’t, lad. You’re looking the other way! All right, even that one sounds weirder than you on the RuPaul show, but I’ll sign you off on the leave. When it is going to be shown, let me know and I’ll post it up on the board so that everyone can tune in to see your unmissable behind.”
Marianne Gregory © 2024
Chapter 2
On the weekend before the shooting was to start, Molly called me and told me to go and see her at the salon that she had shares in. When I got there, she and her business partner did more than I thought was needed. Who was going to see if I had smooth legs and arms anyway?
What they did to my eyebrows was going to cement the story about me being on the RuPaul show into the wall of gossip that had swirled around me. OK, I could have the breasts taken off with solvent, and the big-bottomed pants that hid my penis could be taken off. But nothing would hide the puffed lips, the shapely brows, and the earrings. Molly had brought a bag with all the things to make me a copy of my sister, and she gave me a new hairstyle taken from a photo taken at the trial. When I had been dressed, and made-up, I looked in the mirror and saw young Lor looking back at me. It was uncanny, and a bit scary.
“How about you mimic Lor like you used to do when you were young?”
I had to think back at how I used to make her voice.
“All right, sister. Now you have me like this, what do we do now?”
She grinned and clapped her hands.
“Now, Lauren, we are going shopping. You can’t wear that outfit every day, and the ones for the shoot are too precious for you to use as day wear.”
“I can’t go out like this, it’s crazy!”
“What’s crazy is how much you look like our big sister. You’ll be on a set on Monday, and they want you to look like Lor ten years ago. I have to say that it was easy to create. Come on, you have to meet the public sooner or later. If someone thinks you’re Lauren Havers, the famous model, go along with it and let them take selfies with you. It will make their day and will have you thinking like her. Give me a few minutes to change out of this smock into something where I won’t look out of place beside you. It’s time that you spend a bit of your savings on looking good.”
I had brought back a couple of handbags that Lauren had used during the trial, one was large and used to great effect on her day in the witness box. The other was a black bag that any woman would carry, if she shopped on Rodeo Drive. Molly had brought the black one and the cosmetics that had been used on me were added, along with my cash and cards in a black purse. There were other items in the bag that I saw but refused to comment on.
I was coached on my walk as we went to her car, then told how to enter, and exit, a car. It was starting to enter my consciousness just how different women move, and why. Once I caught on with the why, my brain could understand the how. She drove us to Chelsea, and we walked into a shop called ‘Aftershock’. I wondered if that was what a lot of husbands had suffered when they saw the account.
I was pleasantly surprised at the prices that I saw on things we were looking at. Molly had decided that I would need seven outfits to go to the set in. I had thought that I would turn up in my running gear and would be changed for the shoot. She assured me that none of the other models would be seen dead on a set unless they were looking good, and I had to follow suit.
We ended up with me walking out with three skirts and six tops, plus four dresses that made me look like some guys wet dream. I had tried everything, had two shopgirls running around getting the right shoes and accessories, had selfies taken with both and their manager, who had remembered Lor in her modelling days, and asked me what I was doing now. I told her that I was in town to watch over a recreation of the trial days, and she gave me a hug, telling me that what I, and the other girls, had done, had changed the dynamic in the fashion industry. She also gave Molly a hug when I said that I was staying with my sister. Didn’t give me a discount, though.
I paid with my credit card, which luckily only had G. L. Havers on it. When the manager looked at me, I smiled.
“My real name is Gloria Lauren, and I dropped the Gloria off for work purposes. It’s easier to let the bank keep the actual initials. You can’t make things too complicated with banks, can you?”
She laughed. Back in the car, I put my bags on the back seat. Molly turned to me.
“So, the great Lauren is staying with her sister. You actually got that right, but I was holding off bringing it up in case you didn’t want to. If we’re going to the shoot together, it’ll be a lot easier if I help you get made-up in the mornings. I’ve sent Lor some pictures of you in different outfits and told her not to do anything which would get her name in the papers. So, Garth Lawrence, we need to get you some frillies.”
We weren’t far from the big Westfield shopping centre. When we had parked, we hit Victoria’s Secret for some slips which I would need under a few of the dresses, and a couple of nighties and matching gown. I had long ago stopped thinking about complaining about the cost. I would just have to save up for an extra year to buy my Porsche.
As we shopped, several of the older women asked me if I was Lauren, and when I said I was, they all told me that I didn’t look a day older than when I walked the fashion runways. All my life I had been a backroom geek, and this adoration was intoxicating. Back in the car, with more bags added to the pile, Molly drove us into the countryside, to a secluded pub where two ladies could have a private lunch. I was coached in the ladylike method of eating, and chastised when I thought I might have the steak.
I had been spending the day in one-inch heels, and Molly got me to change into three-inch ones for the afternoon, which altered my perception of beauty, realising what women go through to look good. We parked near the rowing museum at Henley-on-Thames, and I had to stroll, leisurely, with Molly on my arm, until I mastered the technique of walking tippy toe. By the time we got back to her place, I was very glad to take the shoes off.
We had a light tea, and changed for bed, sitting in our nighties and gowns to watch some mindless TV, drink a few glasses of wine, and talk about things to come. It was surreal, now I look back on it, just what a sight we must have looked. I didn’t care. I was psyching myself up to be in front of the camera.
Sunday morning, I woke up with the nightie wound around my legs and panicked before I realised where I was, in Molly’s spare bedroom. We had breakfast and I had a shower with a shower cap on to protect my hairdo. I was dressed in one of the skirts and tops, having put everything on without help. Molly worked on the cosmetics and declared that we were good looking enough to go to an art gallery, so we parked at the closest tube station and went into the city and spent some time at the National Gallery. I was much more fluid in the heels today, and we were able to look around without anyone asking me if I was Lauren.
From there we strolled to the National Portrait Gallery, where I nearly caused a riot when I was looking at a painting of Lauren in a glorious gown and some people wanted selfies and autographs. The attendant had to come along and help me tell them that I wasn’t famous any longer and move them along. The likeness was remarkable, and I could now also appreciate why Lauren gave it all up when she did.
By the time we arrived at Elstree Studios for the shoot on Monday, I was able to channel Lauren quite easily. Elstree was once the centre of British film making, churning out comedies, action films and hosting the long list of British actors of past years. Now, it was the centre of TV show production, mainly game shows and reality programs.
Molly parked and we walked in to find our way to the right studio, with her carrying the suitcase. Luckily, there was a signboard with ‘Great Crimes – Studio Seven’ and a map showing us where to go. When we walked into the studio, the first person who noticed us was Hugh Withers, and the look on his face showed that I had made a new friend.
“Lauren, is that really you?”
“You asked me that outside a men’s store, Hugh. Remember what I told you then?”
“Garth? You can’t be. Garth is a bloke, and you certainly don’t look like a bloke to me.”
“You’re in TV, Hugh. Haven’t you seen what a good make-up artist and some lumps of foam can do before. I’m still Garth underneath, but I would like you to call me Lauren as it helps me stay in character.”
He smiled and called Albert over.
“Albert, this is Lauren Havers in the flesh, so to speak. I think that any scene with her in it won’t need it to be back views or long shots anymore.”
“Hello, Albert. I hope you don’t mind but Molly and I thought that me appearing as close as I could to Lauren of those times would make things easier for you. The suitcase contains most of the actual outfits that she wore during the trial. That may save your costume people some time. When I saw her, she read the documentation and endorses the project. She said, at the time, that she may come over to see it being filmed, but Molly has sent her pictures of me and told her to stay low. I’ve already been mobbed, had to stand for selfies, and written autographs for older women fans. And I’ve only been dressed like this since Saturday.”
“Lauren Havers, you are every inch the woman that I saw, years ago, on the pages of the magazines that I smuggled into my bedroom when I was a teenager. As an old song goes, ‘I loved you then, and I love you now.’ Welcome to the set, your being here will lift the game of the others. So far, they’ve been considering this an acting job, not a recreation of real life.”
As we walked towards the others, Molly whispered to me.
“On set five minutes, and you have one guy remembering his crush on you, and another telling you that he jacked off looking at your picture. What on earth did we create?”
We were given revised schedules for filming. They had built a set of steps that copied the court and there would be scenes of us going up, and then coming down them. As the trial ran for two weeks, we would all have to do that in ten different outfits. I had six of them in the case, and costume could provide the other four, all being normal sorts of things that Lauren had continued wearing until they had gone to fashion heaven.
The seven of us were told that we would now be in speaking parts, as they had decided to recreate some of the testimony from the trial. We lined up to sign the contracts and then went to be dressed.
There had been seven models giving evidence in the trial, with a lot more telling their stories in interviews as it unfolded. Each scene that we did had to be as per the pictures and news footage from the day, with us to be in the exact places on the steps. It took until the Thursday morning to do all the variations. We were given the afternoon off, and we seven were joined by all the costume and make-up girls to go for lunch.
Over the week, we had been bonding. The other models had accepted me as Lauren, and so had the rest of the crew. I was staying with Molly, and we were living like a pair of sisters. I had none of my normal clothes, she had put the things I wore to the salon aside, along with all my other things other than my credit card.
We were joined at the lunch by the owner of the agency that the other girls worked for. She was one of the new breed of women running agencies, with a lot of the men that had been in charge dropping by the wayside after the trial. I was introduced to her as Lauren Havers, and she nearly fainted. When she had been sitting for a little while, one of the girls told her who I really was, which made her almost faint again.
Over the course of the lunch, she asked me if I would go into her office for a photo shoot. Molly thought that it was a grand idea. We followed her to her office, and I spent the afternoon posing with some very opulent gowns on. I had fun, but it never entered my head that it would lead to anything else.
On Friday, we walked into the studio to see that the steps had been removed and the mock court had been installed. We started the process once more, being filmed along with a lot of extras playing legal types, the judge, the jurors and the public gallery. Some were playing the news media, who we had worked with on the other scenes.
The seven of us weren’t in shot during the Friday. We sat back and watched as the actors made the opening statements, all taken from the court records. The trial had been brought due to Lauren going to the police, and then other investigations bringing other complainants to light. The defence, of course, was that all the sex had been consensual, as all had taken place in hotel rooms with thin walls, and none of the others had gone to the police at the time.
Monday was the day that we filmed the first two girls being grilled. The story was the same – the accused had gone into their bedroom while on location, had inserted a rubber bung in their mouths and then raped them. When he left, he took the bung out and told them to say nothing or never work in the industry any longer. The defence always ended with the comment that the sex was consensual, and the complaint was just a way of gaining notoriety and get some money from TV interviews.
Tuesday and Wednesday was the same, leaving me to be in the witness box on Thursday. I had read the court transcriptions and had rehearsed my part. That day, I was wearing the expensive linen business suit with the skirt below the knees and carried the big bag that Lauren had taken in that day. When I was tested for sound and the cameras ready, we went into the scene. Most of the others had taken breaks during their scenes but I was determined that I wouldn’t be the one to break the tension as mine unfolded.
The guy playing the prosecution lawyer was very smooth in the part, called me ‘Miss Havers’ and led me through my history that led to that day, emphasising that I had been a model since I was sixteen, and was now only twenty-one. When I related my experience, the defence guy and the accused were looking smug. It had been the same at the actual trial, as far as the reports went. At the end of my statement, the lawyer sat, and the defence lawyer stood. We all had the script in front of us, with the lawyers having theirs on their desks and I had a teleprompt in the witness box where it couldn’t be seen.
The actor playing the defence lawyer was smirking as he started to surmise that I had only gone to the police to gain notoriety. My answer was that I was already famous as a model and that I had enough money saved. He pushed the question that I allowed the accused to have sex with me to enhance my position and leaving it six months before going to the police was unusual for a rape victim. This is where his, and the accused, research had let them down, being so sure that we would all be painted as money-grabbing, lying, sluts, out to tarnish a successful man’s name.
At that point, Laurel had pointed out that the shoot location was in Saudi Arabia, where a woman crying rape was likely to be in prison as the rapist was free to leave the country. They had been on location there, and then Morocco, for three months, so going to the police in the UK was hardly possible.
He then suggested that she had invited him to her room. Lauren had told him that she was from a good family, with breeding, and that she was saving herself for her husband, so was a virgin at the time. The defence grabbed at that and finished his cross-examination with the comment that her going to the police was only a way to wriggle out from the shame of her perfidy.
At that point in the trial, the prosecution lawyer stood and requested a further cross-examination. This was the place where the trial became very real for the reporters. The costume people had supplied me with a white nightie, similar to the one that Lauren had pulled out of her bag and shown the court. When the lawyer asked if I had any proof of the rape, I pulled the actual nightie from the bag and held it up, getting real gasps from the actors on set.
“As you can see. this nightie is torn at the bust, where he had torn it to suck my breasts. It is also stained where I bled when my hymen had been broken. Here is another stain, where he had wiped himself, leaving a blood smear with remnants of his semen. The prosecution has had this tested, and the stains have been proved to be mine and the accused.”
The director had intended to stop the scene as the nightie was being lifted, but the sight of the actual evidence, some ten years after the fact, had him making frantic gestures to carry on. The actors, being professionals, did just that. The defence lawyer stood to object and the judge dismissed it, the prosecution tendered the nightie as evidence and also the forensic report that proved that the blood was Lauren’s, and the semen was positively the accused. That’s where Albert called ‘Cut’ and came over to hug me as the rest of the cast cheered.
“Lauren, that almost gave me a heart attack. Why didn’t you tell me that you had the actual evidence all this time?”
“You heard the effect it had on the cast, Albert. Knowing what was to come wouldn’t have had the same sound. Lauren told me that it had been a surprise to everyone in that court when she pulled it out, and I wanted to recreate that surprise. That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? Re-creation of that day.”
The other models wanted to touch the famous nightie before I folded it and put it back in the plastic bag. That single item of nightwear had improved their work life since that day. The rest of the show was to be footage of reporters and commentators from the time. Without a need for a second run at the scene, our jobs were over. I, and the models, went to change into everyday wear. That I opted to stay in a dress was a surprise to both me and Molly, with her bringing a small bag with my Garth clothes. I wanted to come down slowly, going back to my apartment after the salon had done it’s best to erase Lauren
That afternoon, after we had all had lunch in the studio canteen, my original contract was torn up, with another given to me to sign, with some more money. Albert told us all that we would be shown the finished product before it went to air, but that he was confident that it would be a blockbuster episode in the series, and that, ‘Each of you seven girls are likely to be offered future roles when it was shown’. That made me stop and think. I had really enjoyed the bustle of filming, and had, I thought, acquitted myself well.
I stayed with Molly on Thursday night, and we talked about the drama of the show, made more dramatic with the actual nightie that sealed his future. The case, up until then, had been she says - he says hearsay. The physical piece of evidence that demonstrated the brutality and total disregard for a woman’s feelings was enough for the jury to bring a guilty verdict after just an hour of deliberation.
After that conversation, she asked the one question that had remained in my mind since we finished filming. What am I? For two weeks playing the part of Lauren, I had been hugged and spoken to more times by strangers than any other time in my life. I had found an aptitude for acting and had fun posing for a lot of cameras over the period. I looked, and sounded, exactly like my famous sister. We rang her around ten that night, nearly teatime in Montreal.
Molly spoke first and gave her the wrap up of the filming, telling her that it was a very powerful piece. When I spoke to her, I was still in character, and we hadn’t been speaking long before she started laughing.
“What did I say?”
“It’s not what you said, Gee, it’s how you’re saying it. You sound just like I did at your age. I only speak different now because I talk to my children a lot, and the social scene here would not allow me to talk with the old accent. You finished filming, why the voice?”
“Because dear Lor, I’m sitting here, still wearing a dress. I don’t know what I’m going to do. If I go back to work as Garth with puffy lips, thin eyebrows and earrings, they’ll laugh. I’m thinking about calling the office next week, to ask if I can go back as Gloria.”
“Where did Gloria come from?”
“I paid with my credit card at the dress shop, and it has G. L. Havers on it. As the lady thought I was you, I told her that my real name was Gloria Lauren but had dropped the Gloria. My contract with the TV company was in the G. L. name, and everyone on the set has called me Lauren for the last two weeks. I believe that the credits will have the same, Albert told me that after my performance, it wouldn’t be any good to have me listed as Garth Havers, as nobody would believe it. I can hardly believe it myself.”
“So, why not stay as Gloria. Molly has told me that you have had a photo shoot at an agency. Call them up, tomorrow, and ask if you can see the portfolio. I’m sure that it will be ready. If the manager has any business sense, she would have already shown it to likely clients. A clone of me on the catwalk will create a sensation.”
“I’m not sure that they want a clone of you, Lor. I’m just so befuddled with all that has happened, I wonder if I’ll be any good at my old job, any longer. I may just start looking at fashion sites. Do you realise that I now have more changes of outfit here than I have in my wardrobe at home. The trouble is that I can find a reason for changing to suit the hour, rather than dressing for a week.”
“You’ve discovered the joys of being a woman, Gee. You don’t have to send the suitcase back, keep the things I put in it. The nightie might find a home in the agency when you’re working for them. It can be framed in all its gory glory.”
“It certainly created something when I pulled it out on the set. All the other models wanted to touch it before I packed it away.”
“See, the next thing is that they’ll want to touch is the hem of your skirt.”
Marianne Gregory © 2024
Chapter 3
After we had finished the phone call, we opened a new bottle of wine and Molly opened a packet of crackers and cut some cheese from a wheel in her pantry. We were more settled with each other than we had been in any time in our lives. I knew that I had been fundamentally different from our brother but had never considered that it would need two weeks of wearing skirts for me to understand why.
Molly asked me when I was going back to work. I realised that the original shooting schedule had been for three weeks, so I now had an actual week of holiday that I can spend as I wished. When I told her that, she grinned.
“Fantastic! What we’ll do is have a sisters week. I’ll make you up as yourself, rather than Lor. It won’t fool anyone who had seen her, especially those in the fashion industry, but it will allow you to mingle with ordinary folk without having to sign autographs. If you do have to, tell them that you’re Gloria Havers, not Lauren, and sign them that way. The papers you sent me said three weeks, so I made you an appointment for Saturday week. Who knows, you may want to start electrolysis then.”
On Friday, we both slept late. After we had eaten, I went to shower and dress, putting on one of the dresses I had bought, with a cardigan that had been in the suitcase. With the black bag checked for contents, I called Molly to help me with the make-up. When she arrived, she told me that I would have to do my own. So, I sat as she explained what I should do. After several tries, we had created a new-look me, more like a normal person than a supermodel.
I rang the agency and asked about the pictures that had been taken the week before. Winnie, the manager, said that my portfolio was ready to be picked up. The others had told her that the show was in post-production, so had been expecting my call. She invited Molly and I to lunch, naming a nice restaurant around the corner from the agency.
When we arrived, we were shown to her table and asked what we would like to drink. We both ordered a dry white. When we were sat, with very attentive waiters holding our chairs, Winnie thanked us for coming. She had the folder with my pictures and handed it to me to look at. If I hadn’t remembered posing, I would have thought they were of someone else.
“These look fabulous. It’s a pity that they’re just fantasy.”
“They’re fantastic, that’s for certain, but not fantasy, Lauren.”
“Please, the show is over and, at the moment, I’m not Garth or Lauren. I’m Gloria Havers until I become Garth again to go back to work.”
“Why would you want to go back to your old job, Gloria? I’ve shown these pictures to some of my better clients, and they all want you modelling for them. You could earn the sort of money that Lauren did, and you wouldn’t have to work three years in low-paid work before you did. I have one client who has offered five thousand a day for your time, with an expected shoot of a week. That’s twenty-five thousand in your first week.”
I sat back to take that in. That was almost the Porsche that I lusted after. That thought was chased away as soon as I thought it. Those sports cars were hard to get in and out of when wearing a dress, and the more I thought, the more the Porsche was replaced with something a little bigger.
While I was taking that in, a waiter had arrived to take our meal order. I had been long enough eating with models to order something light. Winnie stayed quiet as Molly looked at the pictures and I thought about things. Molly declared that they were very good.
“More than good, Molly. Those pictures are pure gold. They are enough to offer the two of you jobs with the agency. My girls were very happy with the way you helped them during the filming, and the way you recreated Lauren was a masterpiece.”
“Well, she is my sister.”
“Which one? Lauren or Gloria?”
“After the last couple of weeks, Gloria is more my sister than Garth was my brother. I hardly ever saw him from one season to the next. We have bonded as sisters while she’s been staying with me. I’m tempted to ask her to move in with me and give up her apartment. I don’t know what our parents will say, but I think that it will be tempered by how famous she is. In our old home, money spoke louder than anything else.”
When our meals came, we concentrated on eating. I was eating and thinking hard at the same time, so was happy with the lack of conversation. When we had all finished, I asked the questions that had built up in my mind.
“Winnie, how much will my still being a bloke change things?”
“Absolutely no problem. The fashion industry is all about looks. We have slim guys with five-o-clock shadow wearing dresses these days. If you say that you’re Gloria, look like Gloria, sound like Gloria, then you will be Gloria, nobody is going to out you unless you out yourself. As long as you aren’t photographed in the men’s loos at a train station with your dick hanging out, everyone will think that you’re a woman.”
“What about those already in the know?”
“The film crew and the actors will keep quiet. It doesn’t do them any good to say anything. My girls are expecting acting offers. The other actors will get more work if the show’s a success, they won’t want to rock the boat. The crew don’t give a damn either way, the same goes for the crews that will work with you in the future. If you create work for them, they’re never going to do anything to upset the status quo.”
“When will you want me to start?”
“You can come in next week and see how you feel about it. If you don’t like it, you can go back to your job. If you like it, you can give them notice.”
“What will I be doing for the week?”
“If I make a couple of calls this afternoon, your feet won’t be touching the ground unless that’s what the pose calls for. It will give my clients time to put together what they want you to wear. I’ll supply a car and driver to pick you up and drop you off. You may not have to come to the agency at all. I’ll get proof sheets so you can see the results, but the photos that are used will be the property of the client.”
“That depends on if they want to use them.”
“Don’t be negative, Gloria. You saw what we did with your first time in a studio. With Molly making you look good; all you have to do is believe in yourself.”
When we left her, she had all the details for us, including my numbers for the tax and the health service. I still wasn’t sure, but Molly tried to lift me out of my negativity. We went home and packed for two nights away, and she drove us down to Eastbourne, where the family had a seaside property which we all had a key to. We made up a couple of beds and put the supplies that we had brought on the way into the fridge and pantry.
It wasn’t a big house, but a reasonable apartment in a large block. We had all put money in to buy six of them when they were selling, and five were rented out. It was a minute or two to the beach, and not much further to the marina. Ten minutes to the Sovereign Harbour shops, or two minutes by car.
We spent most of Saturday, and some of Sunday walking the beach or going to look at the rows of boats. We had our Saturday meal at the Harvester and had drinks bought for us by a couple of yachting types. It was a good rest from what had gone before, and we went back to the city in a much more relaxed frame of mind.
Monday morning, we were both dressed and ready when there was a knock on the door. A uniformed chauffer greeted us and made sure we were comfortable in the back of his car. It was a pleasant start to a truly busy day. He drove us to a spot near Tower Bridge where the others were setting up. We were welcomed to the shoot and shown the caravan where the changing was to take place. It was a good job it was quite large and had been modified, as I joined three of the girls from the TV show, and Molly joined two dressers.
That morning, I had confirmation of just how far I had fallen into this female thing. There I was, bumping into young women in their underwear, and all I could say was to ask where they had bought such nice bra and panty sets. When we were all gowned and made up, we were out there, being posed for the cameras as about fifty curious onlookers stood behind make-shift barriers.
That day, we went to three different sites, sometimes modelling the same dresses, but usually in something new. What wasn’t new was the comments from the onlookers. I was tempted to pull one of my formes out when, for about the twentieth time, some wag called out “Show us your tits”. I couldn’t, because they were firmly attached, but the thought made me smile.
That, alone, changed the dynamic of the shoot. The cameraman liked what he saw and started telling me to smile more. Up until then, we had all posed with that deadpan, uninterested face that you see on fashion pictures. After that, all four of us were smiling for the camera and the work became almost enjoyable.
The process was repeated for the next four days, with us being taken to the first location by our driver, working through the morning, having a van turn up with lunch, working through the afternoon, and having dinner with the other models before we were taken home again. It made me understand how hard it was to be a model, and to maintain the positive visage when you feel worn out. That week I posed in the city, by the river at Greenwich, on one of the old wartime forts in the Estuary, having been choppered onto it, and at Southend, first by the pier, and then at the end of it.
The odd thing was, that when we posed, I could imagine the background that they were aiming for. In one shot at the end of the pier, I was posed so that my hand looked as if it was holding a ship coming out of the docks. On the Friday, the venue for dinner was the restaurant where we had met Winnie. She had another gentleman with her when we arrived. He was introduced as the client we had been working for all week. He had a folder for all four of us models, with chosen pictures from the first four days.
“Ladies, I can’t tell you how happy I was when I saw the first proof sheet. These pictures are some of the best that we’ve had to work with on our next advertising campaign. I’ve told Winnie that I want all four of you for the next season, and to be the main models in our fashion show. She has, naturally, haggled, and to get your exclusive attendance, I have agreed to double your daily rates. We have another shoot set up for next week, only three days, on the wild coast of Cornwall. You’ll be taken down on Monday afternoon and brought back Friday morning. Hopefully the weather will be kind to us. I would love to eat with you, but I do have a prior engagement in Paris to go to. Enjoy your meal.”
He stood and came to kiss our hands before he left us. I, along with the others, were left stunned. Winnie got us all comfortable and with champagne ordered for a happy occasion. I looked at the photos that he had left for me. Once again, if I hadn’t been there, I would have wondered who that woman was. Winnie got us settled enough to order, then raised her glass and proposed a toast to, ‘Fashion, long may she reign!’ I took a sip and smiled as much as the others. It may have been hard work, but we were all heading off for a shoot next week. Who knows what may happen the week after.
Then it hit me. Next Monday I was going back to the office. I was sitting next to Winnie, so leaned over and asked her what his agreement meant for me, financially.
“He was the one who offered five, so you earned ten a day this week. The other girls were on fifteen hundred, so will now get three. Between you, my commission will pay for the running of the agency this week. I do have a contract for each of you and Molly in my briefcase. If you could sign it this evening, I can get you set up in the system and you will see your money in your banks on Monday. The shoot, next week, is all rocky cliffs and raging water, and you will be choppered to the sites from Exeter, where you’ll be staying. You’ll get a half day pay each way to Exeter.”
“I’ll go into the office and tell them I’m not coming back, then. It will create a bit of a stir when I walk in. Molly can drive me in and bring me back. I’ll have to go by my apartment as I’m sure that there’s stuff that has gone off. Thank you for your faith in me, I’ll try to live up to my sister’s legacy.”
“You’ve done that already, Gloria. The client couldn’t get over the pictures with all of you girls looking happy to be wearing the outfits. Keep that up and you can’t go wrong.”
While we ate, I was thinking about money. If I was to have been paid five, but was now on ten, this week I had earned fifty thousand for looking happy in the most outlandish places you could imagine. Next week I would earn forty thousand and get four nights in a hotel. I could afford to lose any notice money if I just go into the office and clear my desk. When I thought about it, the only thing in my desk that I wanted was my tablet and charging cord. Molly and I signed our contracts with the agency that evening. Molly had been working as a casual when required by her various employers, so would just say she wasn’t available when they came knocking.
On Saturday, after I had started electrolysis at the salon, we went to my apartment and threw out the rotting fruit and poured the sour milk down the toilet. I decided that we could keep the place as an alternative, seeing that it was closer to the city centre, while Molly’s place was in an outer suburb.
“What do you think of being here, some weekends, Molly. It will be handy if we have somewhere we have to be in the city.”
“Good idea, Gloria. There are two bedrooms, so we will just have to fill the place with some clothes to relax in. Actually, if we bring some things over tomorrow, you can walk to the office as you used to, then I can take us back to mine to be picked up. There is the parking space in the basement.”
So, we filled some garbags with my old things. I was sorry to see the back of a couple of good suits, but most of the rest was tossable. The suits and shirts went to a collection bin at a charity shop, and the other stuff went into the bin in the basement. We remade both beds ready for Sunday night and got some fresh supplies for Monday breakfast on the way back to Molly’s. That evening, we had another conversation with Lauren, telling her the news. She was happy for me but warned me to make sure that I had time off, as some clients would work you every day if they could get away with it.
Sunday, we loaded up the car and took a pile of things to the apartment, with me adding dresses to a wardrobe that had only seen suits, and frillies to drawers that had only held white boxers. We laundered the sheets that we had taken off yesterday, and I went around with a vacuum while Molly did some dusting. We had lunch in the kitchen and dinner at my usual pub. That night, I slept in my old bed, but now with breasts and a nightie. When I looked around the familiar room, I started thinking about the changes I wanted to make. In the morning, I dressed in a tight skirt and silky top for the office, and strolled my usual route, now with my heels clicking on the pavement.
When I arrived at the building, I used my pass to get in and up to the right floor in the lift. I walked into the office with a straight back and a big smile.
“Good morning boys. I’m just here to see old Grumpy Guts.”
I went straight to the aforesaid managers office and walked in.
“Yes, Miss. How on earth did you get in? This is a secure area, we do very important work for the government.”
“Oh, boss man. Don’t you recognise me? I told you that I was being cast as my sister for a TV show. Well, the show is finished and here I am to come back to work.”
“Garth?”
“No longer, lovey. I’m Gloria now and will remain so as long as I can look good. Do you think I look the part?”
“I think you look fantastic. You do know that there are no female toilets in this office?”
“Oh, yes. I don’t think that the guys will want me pulling up my skirt to pee at the urinal, so I do have a solution. How about I just walk out of here and never come back?”
“That, Gloria, is the most sensible thing you’ve said so far. I’ll come with you to clear your desk. We can tell the others that you’re Garth’s sister to take away his things. You can give me your pass and I’ll see you off the premises. We’ll pay your unused holidays out.”
“All I want is my tablet and charger. You can keep my mug as a souvenir.”
We went into the work area, and he opened up my desk, gave me the tablet and charger, and checked that there was nothing else I wanted. There was deathly hush as we did that, and then he escorted me out. As the door was closing, we could hear the chatter that exploded behind us.
He took me down to the main doors, took my pass from me, and wished me well. He was quite the gentleman, and I felt a little sorry for him, having no job advancement unless he moved to another company. Like most of the others in the office, he didn’t have the nerve to jump. I strolled back to the apartment, and Molly drove us back to her place.
Later in the day, we were in a small plane heading for Exeter, our luggage in the back. We were in the hotel and settled before the other models arrived by road. That showed me the gap between us, and I made sure that it didn’t alter my relationship with them. Over the week, we were all taken to the airport and then choppered to the site, where the caravan and the crew were waiting for us. It was windy and took a lot of willpower to keep smiling.
As the weeks flew by, with a number of shoots, none as windy as Cornwall, I became more used to the job, more used to being a woman, and a lot richer. We had advance notice of a fashion show, and I insisted on all of us models having a week without shoots. I spent the week learning how to walk in even higher heels.
Molly and I went to see Lauren. I had organised a new passport with an up-to-date photo. No-one questioned the M that was still on it. The three of us had a great time, being invited to several parties, the three of us much photographed for local and international media. It was noted of how much we looked alike. Conrad had the prime place for pictures and interviews, so it was easy on us.
The fashion show was certainly different. The other girls taught me how to strut my stuff and we did what the client had paid for, selling plenty of expensive dresses to rich people. The TV show was scheduled, and I emailed my old manager to tell him the date of the broadcast. Molly and I watched it on my big screen in the apartment. I was impressed by what they had put together. It was a true recreation of what had happened, and a glaring warning to those who may be going through the same things now.
The credits showed me as Gloria Havers, and the six other models were named. That changed things for me and the three that I was working with, as we all had requests to talk to people about TV and film careers. In the end, all three of the models went for screen tests and were signed with various companies. None would be named stars, but all would have a strong career as part of the entertainment business.
I stayed with our agency and our client, becoming a known name in the fashion business, with my picture on almost every magazine in the world. I took heed of what Lauren had done, even if I didn’t have the push to retire that she had. I stayed at the top of my game for ten years, carrying on after Molly had found a nice man and got married. I had amassed considerably more in the bank than Lauren when I told everyone that I had enough.
I had used the best breasts that money could buy, had weekly visits to the salon, had been around the world several times, and had purchased a hide-away in Devon. I wanted to live a quiet life and had the means to do so.
In the last few years of my fashion career, I had a new make-up woman, Veronica, about my own age, and we had become very friendly. She knew what I was, under the glamour, and encouraged me to go onto testosterone injections to re-awaken my dormant masculinity. She kept me looking like Gloria as my body wanted to revert to Garth.
On my final visit to the salon, I was debreasted and recreated as Garth, with my crowning glory shortened to a more manly style. I couldn’t do anything about the holes in my ears, or my plumper lips, but if Mick Jagger could get away with it, so could I.
When she had moved into the apartment with me, it was the beginning of the best times of my life. When we went to Devon, I was wearing a tracksuit and we had been shopping for new clothes for me, here and overseas. To everyone in the village, I was Garth Havers, a retired businessman and a happy addition to the local drama club.
Our daughter went to the local primary school, and everyone commented on how lovely she was. We had called her Lauren Gloria, after her famous Auntie and the famous look-alike. Who knows, she may grow up to be as beautiful as her namesake, she has the right genes to start with. We lived the quiet lifestyle that I had needed, until someone decided that I would be a good candidate for the next election. I suppose that I could play that part easier than playing as a fashion model for ten years. I could say, quite truthfully, that I spoke for everyone, man or woman, and had lived the lives to prove it.
Marianne Gregory © 2024