Peter and Katie Marriott are returning to the UK after a lifetime abroad. The brother and sister are simply acting on their father’s directions. He has a plan, intending to join them a little later, but they have to fulfil certain obligations prior to his return.

Whilst at an airport hotel, the pair become entangled with a shady character who is intent on seizing the assets of a beautiful but somewhat scatty heiress, Letty Greyson. Using quick wits and dubious skills, they manage to rescue the girl and return her to the bosom of her family.

However, the attractive Katie and handsome Peter are not quite what they appear.........

 
 
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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Author's Introduction:
When considerably younger, I read and thoroughly enjoyed the many works of Georgette Heyer. A completely new and colourful world of Regency Romance opened up to me, and I found the whole range of books delightful in the extreme.

One book, The MASQUERADERS, was to become my favourite, dealing with issues with which I could readily identify. It had everything one could want in a book: - Wonderful characters, beautiful women, handsome heroes, nasty villains, duels by moonlight, deception, love and romance, highwaymen, heroic deeds and horse-back rides across open countryside. Good triumphed over evil, and true love prevailed.

It also had a hero who spent most of the book dressed as a beautiful woman, and a heroine who appeared as a man.

I have planned for a long time to modernise the story, using those wonderful characters that Georgette introduced to me then. Now I feel I am in a position to fulfil that ambition, and if this turns out half as good as the original, then I will be well pleased.

I make no apology for lifting the book from the eighteenth century and plonking it into the twenty-first. I am probably breaching all manner of copyright laws, but I state now that although the opening of the story is based on that great book, by the very nature of the world we find ourselves, my story will be different, save some of the names and the fact that it takes part in London. Anyone who has read the original work will be able to see where I am going to end up, but hopefully not the direction I intend to take to get there.

My thanks to those who helped me edit, but mainly my thanks to the late great Georgette Heyer for being such an inspiration.
 
 
Tanya Allan
 
Originally written in 2005, revised in 2008.
 
The Legal Stuff: Modern Masquerade  ©2005, 2008 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 1 - A Damsel in Distress
 
 
Grace Lumsden simply adored aeroplanes. At eighty-six, she’d only been flying for the last seven years. Her husband, Harold, had passed away before they could fly to New Zealand to visit their married grand daughter.

Grace had seen Harold buried, and then flown out on her own. She had been hooked by the travel bug, so now was spending her children’s inheritance by flying abroad at least six times a year. With family and friends in Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and North America, she was making up for lost time, aware, no doubt, that her remaining time was somewhat limited.

This trip was insignificant compared to many she’d undertaken, as Paris was a simple hop, skip and jump for her. The Woking Ladies French Circle visited the French Capital every year in the spring, spending two nights at a small hotel, and enjoying the galleries and cafés before flying home again.

Grace was watching London grow as the Airbus approached Heathrow from the East. She pointed out the landmarks to the young woman sitting next to her.

“There’s the Dome, Tower Bridge, The Tower, HMS Belfast, and there’s a tall ship on the river, don’t they look small from up here?”

“Yes, don’t they?” the girl said, smiling patiently.

She was a pretty girl in her early twenties. Long fair hair, falling in cascades down across her shoulders, accentuated her fine slender figure. Wearing a chic burgundy skirt, pale silk blouse, with matching jacket from one of the finest French designers, the girl exuded charm, breeding and a fair degree of wealth.

At first, due to her colouring, Grace believed the girl to be foreign, from Scandinavia or northern Europe. However, she dispelled this as soon as she spoke, for her precise Queens English accent reminded Grace of the late Princess Diana. The two gold rings she wore on her right hand contained substantial stones, one with amethysts and the other blue sapphires, which matched her eyes. She wore a single gold signet ring on the little finger of her left hand, on which a family crest had been engraved. The diamonds and sapphires in her earrings glinted, as she swept her hair away from her face with beautiful slender hands, with long varnished nails.

“Do you fly often?” Grace asked.

“Mmm, quite a lot.”

“I do love it. I quite forget how old I’m meant to be,” Grace said, smiling like a little girl.

“My father keeps us busy. We’ve lived abroad for most of our lives. In fact I was born in South America,” the girl said.

“We?”

“My brother, Peter, and I. Our father has travelled quite a bit on business, so we’ve never really been anywhere very long.” She inclined her head to a young man sitting on the aisle seat next to her. He had his eyes closed, and Grace assumed he was dozing.

He was a good-looking young man, clean-shaven with darker hair than his sister. It was cut quite short, yet he looked much the same age as his sister, was a few inches taller, and seemed generally more substantial than the slender girl.

“Is your father with you?”

“No, he’s still in the Far East, Japan, I think. He’s concluding some business, and hopes to join us in a few weeks after travelling through to Switzerland.”

“Gosh, what a lot of travelling. But what about your poor mother?”

“Mummy died when I was born. Peter is a couple of years older than I, so we never knew her.”

“But, you went to school here?”

“No. Papa believed we should receive whatever education was available wherever we happened to be. He taught us a lot, but probably not what the powers that be would approve of. I don’t think we’ve done too badly, I can speak more than six languages and don’t feel I’ve missed out.”

“You are British, though, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes, but this is my first time here.”

“Oh, you poor dear.”

The girl smiled. It was a lovely smile, reminding Grace of her own grand daughter. A pretty girl’s smile could lighten up a room, and this girl was just like that, as she was transformed into a beauty when she smiled.

“Have you a boyfriend?”

This time the girl chuckled.

“No, not at the moment. I’m Katie, Katie Marriott.”

As the plane began to come in to land, Grace and Katie shook hands.

“This is the bit I love!” Grace said, squashing her nose up against the Perspex of the window.

Katie smiled and glanced at her brother, who opened one eye and smiled at her.

“You are so patient,” he said, quietly.

She simply stuck her tongue out at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, both eyes open, and an expression of mild concern on his face.

“Yes, but I’ll be glad when this is all over.”

“You and me, both! But, he says we have to do it this way.”

“I know, but he doesn’t have to do it, does he?”

Peter smiled, glancing up the aisle.

“The papers are okay, aren’t they?” she asked, a frown creasing her brow.

Peter shrugged.

“If they’re not, we’ll soon find out, the hard way.”

The plane was on the ground, and the purser was welcoming everyone to Heathrow, telling them how cold and wet it was, which anyone with eyes could see for themselves. April could be a delightful month, or it could be shitty. At the moment it was the latter. Katie looked past Grace’s grey hair to the grey and drab outside world. Rain lashed the window, and visibility was poor.

What she’d told Grace was true, she’d never been to England before, now silently hoping that she might finally find a home here. Peter had been quite young when their parents had left the UK, so even he couldn’t remember anything about the land of his birth.

Grace looked so please as she unstuck her face from the window.

“There! That was wonderful. They are so clever the way they land these things. Tell me, my dear, have you far to go?”

“We are staying with friends in London, but they are away until tomorrow. We’re booked into a hotel here at the airport for tonight. We’ve been travelling for nearly thirty hours, so we felt it was wiser just to have a rest and travel into London tomorrow after the rush hour.”

“I live in Woking. That’s in Surrey.”

“Oh, so not far.”

“No, my son will be waiting for me. He’s a chartered accountant!”

Katie smiled, watching the other passengers become restless as the plane taxied to the gate-room. The plane almost taxied for a longer period than it had just flown, but much to everyone’s relief, it finally reached the gate-room and the extended gantry was attached to the front door.

It was the signal for everyone to stand up at the same time, scrabbling for personal effects and hand luggage. Grace was interested to note that the attractive young couple simply sat and waited for the rush to subside. This was the mark of a seasoned traveller, as there was little point in rushing simply to wait at the carousel for one’s bags.

They watched as most passengers were now standing, belaboured with their holdalls and other bags, waiting impatiently for those at the front to leave. Grace turned to Katie.

“This bit is such a scrum. It is my least favourite bit. I have to wait to last, as they provide a wheelchair for me. My hip, you know.”

Katie smiled, saying nothing.

At last the aisle cleared, and Peter stood, removing two matching holdalls from the overhead locker. Passing a smart leather coat to his sister, he asked Grace if she had a bag he could retrieve for her.

“No thank you, dear. I find it so much easier without bags. I just have my duty free gin!” she said holding up a carrier bag containing a litre bottle of Gordon’s gin.

Katie stood up, folded her coat over her arm and slung her black leather Gucci bag over her shoulder. They preceded Grace out of the plane, noticing the man from Passenger Assistance with the wheelchair by the door. They walked slowly up the gantry and along the terminal corridor towards the Immigration hall.

“This is it, girl,” Peter said softly.

“Mmm, nervous?”

“Of course, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been shitting myself since Paris. This is mad, we ought to have our heads examined; it’ll never work.”

“It has to work. Daddy’s plans depend on it.”

“Daddy’s an arse sometimes. There has to be a better way,” the girl said, with some feeling.

“If there is he’d have done it.”

“Yeah,” she said, entirely unconvinced.

Katie’s high-heeled boots made a clacking sound on the lino floor, and as Grace was pushed behind them, the older woman admired the girl’s trim figure and fine legs. Oh, to be that young and attractive again, she thought, wistfully.

They reached the Immigration Hall and lined up with the other EU Nationals. As it was a Paris flight, most were in this line, with a smattering of other, Non-EU Nationals in the other lines. They waited patiently. Two Immigration officers were on the two sides of the channel, and as Katie and Peter approached with their British passports open, the officers hardly glanced at them. Katie was through first, joined shortly after by Peter.

She let out a long breath, and then they moved off towards Baggage Reclaim.

“Shit, that was easy,” she said.

“They didn’t even look at the bloody things.”

“Just as well, really, isn’t it?”

Peter simply nodded, smiling. They both relaxed visibly as they joined the other passengers in the baggage hall. They last saw Grace as they were getting onto the Hilton Hotel shuttle bus. She was being helped into the front seat of a big grey Mercedes.

“She’s a sweet old thing,” Katie said.

“You in a few years?” her brother said, with his rich chuckle.

“Yeah, right!” she said, elbowing him in the ribs.

The Hilton is situated on the south side of the Airport, adjacent to Terminal Four. It is a large V shaped modern structure, with the rooms on the arms of the V and a vast glass wall closing the gap. A pool is at ground level on the inner side of the glass, with a pond with fountain on the outside of the glass giving the impression of one piece of water.

A stream of water trickled through the dining areas that were housed between the arms, creating a novel and pleasant atmosphere.

On checking in, they found their rooms reserved, and were given card keys for the doors.

“Enjoy your stay,” the disinterested young receptionist said, as she was already looking at the next guest.

“What do you want to do first, food, shower or sleep?” Peter asked.

“I don’t want to sleep yet, it’s only nine o’clock. A shower sounds good, but perhaps a bite to eat first.”

They went to the restaurant and ordered an expensive meal that was adequate, but hardly good value. However, they didn’t care, as the Gold MasterCard their father had given them seemed to work without causing security alerts. They sat, sipping their glasses of a Cote du Rhone.

Peter looked tired, and Katie knew what pressure he was under. As the elder sibling, he felt responsible.

“Not much longer,” she said.

He laughed, shortly and with little humour.

“He’s been saying that for years. I’m tired, really tired. I just want to get back to normal.”

“What’s normal? I don’t think I know what I want anymore.”

They shared the same weary smile, but were distracted by a couple arguing at the next table.

“I won’t, and you can’t make me!” the girl said.

“You bloody well will! You know what’ll happen if you don’t?”

“You bastard, you utter bastard!” the girl said, and then bowed her head, obviously crying.

Katie glanced at her brother, and they watched as the tall, beefy looking man stood, grabbing the girl’s arm, pulled her off towards the lift.

She was a petite, pretty, dark haired girl, a shade over five foot two, looking very young, not much out of her teens. She was dressed in jeans and a pale pink top. Her long dark hair framed her pale, heart-shaped face, and her big brown eyes were somewhat swollen and red due to the tears.

Peter saw the expression on Katie’s face.

“No, Katie. Not this time, please.”

Katie looked sharply at him.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I know that look, you can never resist poking your nose in business where a pretty girl is involved.”

She smiled a wicked little smile.

“I hate to see bullies take advantage of us weak and helpless females,” she said

“Hmm, yeah right!” replied her brother, but saw, with some alarm, that Katie was already heading for the lift.

“Shit!” he said, racing after her.

They shared the lift with the couple. The girl, silently sobbing, her head still bowed, while the man held her arm just above the elbow. His expression was one of arrogant complacency, and Peter noted the two white spots on his sister’s cheeks. Katie was angry, and he dreaded to think what was going to happen next.

Katie turned to the miserable girl.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

The girl looked up, surprise and hope flashed in her eyes.

“She’s fine, so fuck off, mind your own business,” the man said.

Katie looked as if she was about to hit the man. Peter almost reached out to restrain her, but as she drew back slightly against the door, he relaxed.

The lift stopped and the door opened. Katie deliberately brushed against the man as he passed her. Then they were gone and the door closed again.

“What are you trying to do?” Peter asked.

Katie smiled, holding up the man’s wallet.

“I’m not trying to do anything, I succeeded.”

“Katie, you’ll screw up everything. What did you want to go and do that for?”

“Katie said nothing, simply removing something from her bag and placing it in the wallet.

She read some of the documents and plastic in the wallet.

“Howard Markham, and he comes from a place called Chigwell in Essex.”

“What are you doing?”

“Evening the odds.”

“Katie, we can’t afford to get involved, you know that. There’s too much at stake.”

“What’s at stake? He hasn’t told us anything, not a fucking sausage. He commands this and that, and we leap about like trained poodles, but why, dear brother, why? For once in my life I’m doing something I want to do, and screw him.”

“Remember Thailand, last year?”

“That was different,” Katie replied defensively.

“Was it?”

“Yes. Well, sort of.”

Peter looked at the wallet.

“Okay, you’ve started. What’s the plan?” he asked.

Katie grinned and told him.
 
 
Chapter 2 - Arrival of the Large Gentleman
 
 
Howard Markham was tense. It wasn’t going to plan at all. The stupid bint was having a touch of the seconds, so he’d had to use a little pressure to convince her of the wisdom of not defying him.

He was a big man, now thirty years old, and determined to be a millionaire before he was forty. If this plan succeeded, he would achieve his ambition before his next birthday. If it failed, he shuddered, as he didn’t want to think about that.

The son of a self-made man, George Markham, he’d watched powerless, as alcohol and gambling reduced both his father and the fortune to nothing in a matter of a few short years. Now, bitter and determined, Howard thought he’d found the perfect plan.

Letty had gone along with it, up until a few hours ago. So, in a moment of weakness, he’d told her about the letter. He knew now that it had been a mistake, but he so wanted this to work, it was the only lever he had. She’d suddenly seen him for what he was, an opportunist.

“You don’t love me at all, do you? All you want is the money!”

He had tried to profess undying love, but he hadn’t fooled her.

Then he told her about the letter.

She was stuck, so he knew that he still had a chance. He’d rather she still felt some attraction for him, as it made marriage so much easier, but it was an irrelevant incidental in his plan.

Now she lay sobbing on one of the twin beds in their room. He stood staring out of the window, at the grey rooftops of Hounslow. He was also angry with the girl in the lift. He knew it was his fault, as he didn’t want to make a spectacle of their leaving the country, but she should have minded her own business.

A knock came on the door. He walked over and opened it. A young woman in hotel uniform stood there, with two police officers in uniform.

“Yes?”

“Mr Markham?” the woman asked.

“Yes.”

One of the officers stepped forward. Howard observed both officers were carrying pistols in holsters; it was unusual for the UK, but not the Airport.

“Is this your wallet, sir?” the officer asked, holding up a black leather wallet.

Howard’s left hand went to his inside jacket pocket.

“Yes, shit, I never knew it was missing. Where did you find it?”

“It was handed into the reception. A waiter found it in the dining area. How much money was in it?”

“About a hundred and fifty quid and five hundred dollars, plus all my cards, why, has it been stolen?”

“It’s all there, sir. So we can rule out theft.”

“Thank you. I’m very grateful. But, I have to confess, I’m a little baffled as to why it takes two officers to return it to me.”

“Sir, we aren’t returning it. I’m arresting you for possession of a stolen credit card. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

Howard felt an icy finger of fear creep up his chest.

“What? This is ridiculous, what stolen credit card?”

“Sir, I do not propose to ask you questions at this time,” the first officer said, as the second PC applied quick-cuffs to the protesting and very surprised man.

Letty Greyson stared in undisguised disbelief and relief, as Howard Markham was pulled from the room. Still sitting on the bed, she became aware of a friendly voice.

“Hi, it seems you’ve a spot of trouble. Can we help?”

Letty looked at the doorway, seeing the attractive blonde girl from the lift. She was smiling and looking so sympathetic that it was all became much for the poor girl. She hugged Katie, sobbing her heart out. Peter rolled his eyes as Katie smiled at him over Letty’s shoulders.

It took a few minutes for her to regain some semblance of control. Peter handed her a glass of water, and she sat with Katie, with the latter’s arm around her waist.

“My name is Letty Greyson. What’s happened?” she asked.

Peter and Katie exchanged glances.

“Hello Letty, I’m Peter Marriott and this is my sister Katie. Katie hates to see girls being bullied, so she came up with a plan. When he was so rude to her in the lift, she happened to, um, acquire the man’s wallet. I had this credit card, I have to say not in my real name, so I reported it stolen, and we wiped it clean, placing it in your nasty man’s wallet.

“We then left it on the floor in the Dining room, close to the table you had been sitting at. Conveniently a waiter found it and handed it in. An anonymous call to the police about a stolen card alerted the local police to the possibility, and the rest is history. I doubt they’ll keep him for very long, but it’ll give us time to spirit you away at least.”

Letty’s eyes went as round and as big as saucers.

“You picked his pocket?” she gasped with delight at Katie, who grinned.

“How clever! But, I’m in a real pickle. I thought he loved me, and I him, but he just wanted my money. You see, I’ve been left millions in trust until I’m twenty-one, and that’s a few months away. If I’m married, then my husband automatically becomes a trustee. My grandfather had some really old fashioned ideas about women and money.”

“You have my sympathy. Our father is somewhat eccentric as well,” said Peter.

“Howard was so different. He changed as soon as I said I thought it better to wait. He has this letter which he says will be enough to have Daddy arrested and sent to prison, and if I didn’t marry him, he’d send it to the newspapers and the police.”

“Have you seen this letter?” Katie asked.

“No, why?”

“The chances are he’s bluffing. However, you can’t be blamed for returning to your family now, can you?”

“I can’t go back, Daddy’ll kill me!”

“I doubt that. You’ll find that fathers may bluster a bit, but if he loves you, he’ll forgive you and welcome you with open arms,” said Katie.

“Hmm,” said Letty, unconvinced.

“Do you know what was in the letter?” Peter asked.

“No, only it was about something called ‘insider dealings’. I don’t even know what that means, do you?”

“What does your father do?”

“He’s a businessman. I don’t really know what he does. He goes to lots of board meetings and stuff.”

Peter tried to explain.

“Insider dealings related to the business of trading stocks and shares. If, as a company officer, one has inside knowledge about either a product or a company that will affect the value of that company’s stocks or shares, and one uses that information to the benefit of oneself or another, or to the detriment of others, then one can be accused of insider dealing.

“For example, if one know that a wonderful new product that a company is about to launch isn’t so wonderful, and one sells one’s shares before the company collapses. Or one knows that the company has had a takeover offer that would increase the value of the shares, and one buys loads at a lower rate, these are insider dealings.”

“Oh, is it illegal?”

“That’s a grey area. Some are, yes, but most of it is irregular at best, and corrupt at worst.”

Letty frowned.

“I don’t know. I’d hate for Daddy to get into trouble.”

“If he’s been naughty, that’s his problem. But for Markham to blackmail you, then you should let the police handle it.”

“I couldn’t!”

“We need to get you out of here. If the police don’t hold him, he could be back very soon,” Katie said.

“Where can I go?”

“In the meantime, I have a spare bed in my room, why don’t you share with me?” Katie suggested.

Peter snorted, coughing violently.

Katie looked daggers at her brother, who went into the bathroom to get some water.

“May I? This is so good of you,” Letty said.

When Peter returned, he found Letty and his sister packing up Letty’s case, on the point of vacating the room. A nervous looking assistant manager was hovering in the doorway.

Peter explained that Mr Markham was liable for the bill. The girl had been brought against her will, and he suggested that the hotel debit Mr Markham’s credit card just in case he decamped.

They then took the girl up one floor to Katie’s room. It was now nearly ten thirty and Katie had yet to have that shower she’d craved.

“Could you call someone for me?” Letty asked.

“Of course, who?”

“My cousin, Tony Fanshaw. He lives not far from here, and I know Daddy would feel happier if I was with him.”

She gave Peter the number, and Peter called it. He briefly outlined the problem, and found himself talking into a dead phone.

He smiled.

“Your gallant cousin is on way, I believe. He hardly let me finish explaining.”

“Oh, Tony is such a sweet guy.”

“Then what are you doing with the odious Mr Markham?” Katie asked.

Letty sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

“I’m a fool, I suppose. He was so, sort of, strong and in control. He was so confident and charming, I fell for it all. Still, I’m worried about the letter.”

“I should tell your father all about it. I don’t imagine there’s much of a real threat, otherwise, Markham would have tried to blackmail him, instead of you. He was depending on your innocence to work in his favour.” Katie said.

“You’re so wise, Katie. How old are you?”

Katie reddened, while Peter had another coughing fit.

“I’m twenty three, but I’ve been around a bit.”

“And some!” added Peter, sotto voce.

“Peter, shut up!”

Peter sniggered.

“You’re no angel,” his sister said.

“True, pax?”

“Pax.”

“I wish I had a brother like you,” said Letty.

“No you don’t, girl, he’s odious,” said Katie, smiling broadly.

“Hmm, she shows good taste. At least I’m not impetuous and foolhardy.”

“I’m decisive and brave,” Katie replied.

“Yeah, right!”

Letty was now calmer and felt so secure with this young couple. She’d only known them for a short time, yet she felt they were true friends.

She shared some more about her predicament and about her life as an only daughter and heiress to a vast fortune. Educated at the best schools, and yet not desperately academic, she hoped to get a job as a journalist, having a HND in the Media and Journalism.

“Daddy wants me to find a respectable man and get married. But what kind of life is that? I want to travel the world and see all those places before I get too old to appreciate them.”

“You could find the right man and do it with him,” suggested Katie.

“Yeah, as if I’ll ever find the right man. I’m so stupid when it comes to men. I always fall for the wrong one.”

“You never know, one might come along and sweep you off your feet!”

“Oh, Katie, I hope so. My problem is that I’m too romantic, and I don’t think there are any romantic men left.”

“There might be one for you,” Katie said with a smile.

There was a knock on the door. Peter went and opened it.

“Tony!” said Letty, clearly pleased to see the man who stood in the doorway, filling it very capably.

Tony Fanshaw was six foot five. Having rowed for Oxford, boxed at Sandhurst and played rugby for the Army against the other services, he was broad, lean and looked very strong.

His slightly battered face actually improved his looks, giving him a dashing air. Dressed in brown cords, brogues, a check shirt and a tweed jacket, he was the very epitome of the English Country gentleman, accentuated by his unruly sandy hair. He sported a faintly bored expression of mild amusement.

“Hello Letty, what the hell have you got yourself into now?”

Letty then spoke for ten minutes without breathing. She exaggerated the whole affair beyond recognition, and Katie’s part was elevated to the mastermind of a daring espionage ring.

“It seems the family are indebted to you, Miss Marriott,” he said.

“Please call me Katie. It’s nothing, I enjoyed it, as he was a class one shit.”

“My sister has a thing about men bullying girls. It’s a woman thing,” Peter said.

“I’m Tony Fanshaw, in case she neglected to tell you. I have a farm out in Buckinghamshire.”

“Peter Marriott and my impetuous sister, Katie.”

Tony shook hands with the pair.

“Jolly good. I’m happy you came along; otherwise, I hate to think what would have become of her. Letty, you’re an arse.”

“I know, Tony, I’m sorry.”

“I called your father, by the way. I ought to call him again to tell him you’re safe.”

Letty made a face.

“Must you?”

“Yes, I must. Unless you want to do it?”

“No thanks, you can.”

Tony walked to the bedside phone and spoke briefly to Letty’s father. He replaced the receiver and turned to Letty.

“I’m to take you home. He’s not happy, Letty.”

“Duh, tell me something I don’t know.”

Tony turned to Peter.

“I can’t thank you enough. If you’re in town, drop in on Charles Greyson; I’m sure he’ll love to see you. I have a small pad in Chelsea that I stay at from time to time. If you want, come and spend some time with the chaps and me. I used to be a donkey wallopper, so am a member of the Cavalry Club.” He handed Peter a card.

“Donkey Wallopper?”

“Sorry, Household Cavalry. I was Blues and Royals before the amalgamation. Short service commission only, but it was jolly good fun.”

“I’d like that, thanks Tony.”

Letty gave Katie a huge hug and kissed Peter goodbye, obediently following her enormous cousin out of the hotel.

“Thank God for that,” said Katie, heading for the shower.
 
 
Chapter 3 - Things Aren’t What You Thought
 
 
A short while later Peter knocked on his sister’s door.

She opened it.

She was engulfed in a vast white towelling dressing gown, with her wet hair wrapped in a turban of towel. Even in a towel she looked attractive.

She went and sat at the dressing table, using the drier on her hair, while Peter entered, shutting the door. He sat on her bed, watching her in the mirror.

“So, does the little dark beauty stir the nether regions, my dear?” Peter asked.

Without turning round, Katie snorted.

“She’s a pretty thing, just your type,” he continued.

Katie turned round, glaring at Peter.

“What about you, brother dearest, does man mountain get the juices flowing?”

Peter sat on the bed, looking slightly upset.

“If you must know, yes, he bloody does! Happy now?”

Katie sniggered.

“Oh, Rob, I so bloody tired of all this. I wish you hadn’t interfered, you always manage to complicate life.”

“Pru, if I hadn’t, you’d never have met Tony.”

“How can I continue being the boy if I feel like I do about him?”

“He even asked you to go to his club, will you go?”

“You know I can’t.”

“Peter can.”

“I’m not Peter, I feel all woman with him around. I’d never be able to keep up this farcical pretence for that long. It’s just as well we’ll never need meet up with Letty or her cousin again.”

“Bollocks. First thing tomorrow I’m going to call on Mr Greyson.”

“Rob, you can’t!”

“Pru, she’s fucking gorgeous.”

“She thinks you’re a girl.”

“So, that way I can become her new best friend.”

“Rob, you fool, you’ll be exposed and ruin everything.”

“How? Do I look like a boy?”

“You know you don’t.”

“So what could go wrong?”

“You! You always go wrong. What happens when you get carried away?”

“Then I shall have to be extra careful.”

“Like the last time?”

Rob looked slightly guilty, but then his grin returned.

“We all can learn from mistakes, can’t we?”

“You don’t realise the danger you are placing us in.”

“Danger, what danger? Look, by making friends with some respectable people, our cover stories will be reinforced. What could go wrong?”

“Tony will see through us, I just know it.”

“Tony? Do me a favour, Pru. He’s just a dopey farmer who can hardly see beyond the end of his nose. He’s not a threat, believe me.”

“He’s more a threat than you realise. He’d see through me after a while.”

“Ho, you make such a good boy, he’ll never see you for what you are.”

“Oh yeah! What happens when he asks me to play squash? Have you any idea how uncomfortable it is having one’s tits bound up tightly?”

Rob looked down at his own chest. The realistic silicone breast forms swinging free, firmly attached by strong adhesive, looking as if they were natural and giving no clue that the wearer was really a male.

“No Pru, I don’t think do.”

“It’s one thing to pretend to be someone else, to slip into the country and disappear. It’s quite another to make such a public entry into high society. The risks are too great.”

“Bollocks. I think she’s the one, Pru!”

“Oh, Rob, if you could hear yourself. They’re all the one.”

“No, this one is different.”

“Rob, life would be so much easier if I had been born the boy, and you the girl. You make a far prettier one than I, after all.”

“Perhaps, but you are still an attractive woman. Big, yes, but dead sexy. Besides, I may make a stunning girl, but as a lad, I’m dynamite.”

“I envy you your figure and height, it would have so much more appropriate for us to have been the opposite gender.”

“I’m not bothered about being five six. I’m only three inches shorter than you are, and it’s never been a problem for me. Letty is the perfect size for me.”

“Three and a half inches, remember? I’m just so broad. Why couldn’t I have your slender figure?”

“Because you take after mum, or so Dad says. He’s the lithe and wiry one, so I take after him.”

Pru watched as her brother repainted his toenails with red varnish. His hands were already immaculate and so feminine as makes no difference. Her hands were quite chunky, and it was a constant source of irritation that Rob was as feminine as he was. However, she knew perfectly well that when dressed as a male, there was nothing feminine about him at all. Tough and wiry, with a spirit of power and grace, he exuded an energetic enthusiasm for life that she could only admire and envy. As a girl, he looked stunning but retaining a hidden toughness that seemed to make him even more attractive to men.

She wondered whether these constant role swaps, designed by their parent as a means of completely obscuring their passage through the world, would have any permanent detrimental effect upon them. She quite enjoyed the thrill of fooling everyone, while she knew that Rob adored playing the role to the hilt, in a couple of cases, it almost went that far.

Rob became a girl almost to the core of his being, occasionally taking the role beyond a joke. A prominent Japanese businessman fell head-over-heels in love with ‘Sarah’, as he was calling himself, and even proposed marriage to ‘her’.

On another occasion, an Australian oil tycoon, somewhat the worse for wear, wouldn’t take no for an answer, and Rob very nearly became the victim of a nasty rape.

It had happened in the Raffles Hotel in Singapore. The tycoon, for some obscure reason was necessary to their father to obtain some drilling rights in the Northern Territory of Australia. Arthur (call me Art) Gallows liked his beer. He also liked his whisky, vodka or anything else that might have any alcoholic content. He also liked blondes.

Rob, in his guise as nineteen-year-old Samantha Fellowes, an American student on year release in industry, was given the task of softening up Mr Gallows, so daddy dear could obtain the valuable signature.

Rob was in the bar, pretending to be waiting for a friend. Art, already slightly lubricated, say a leggy blonde in a very short skirt and tight little top. He strolled over with a subtle chat up line.

“Hallo darlin’, where have you been all my life?”

Rob looked at the overweight sweaty Australian with some distaste. However, such a consummate actor, he smiled sweetly and replied,

“Waiting for you, honey.”

Art plonked his impressive bulk onto the bar stool next to his conquest, leering lasciviously at her.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, how about one of those cute little pink ones with a parasol?”

Now it has to be said that Rob was skilled, but after six cute little pink ones with parasols, even he was beginning to lose control.

“How about a walk, to clear the air?” Art suggested.

“Sure,” ‘Samantha’ giggling, agreed.

Somewhat unsteadily, the pair weaved their way through the ornate gardens, and Art suddenly dragged Rob to the ground, pinning him on his back with his weight.

“Art, you’re hurting me, honey, get the fuck off,” said Rob, maintaining the accent and act.

But Art was too busy undoing his fly with one hand, and groping one of Rob’s silicone titties with the other.

“Art! What the fuck are you doing?”

“Come on, honey, you know you want it.”

With that, he ripped Rob’s panties off, exposing a substantial length of sticking plaster that held him in check.

Fortunately, the Australian was too far gone, so was unable to see the truth. Rob, now genuinely afraid, heaved with all his might, pushing the big man off him and onto his back, rolling away as he did so.

The sudden movement proved too much for Art, who promptly threw up all over himself.

Rob stood up, rearranging his clothing with his heart racing.

Art started to snore, so without further ado, Rob left the man where he was, lying in a pool of vomit, and returned to his room, where he too, threw up into the toilet. Prudence found him a couple of hours later, sitting on the bathroom floor shaking with sobs.

She sat with him, putting her arm round him, waiting for him to stop crying. She felt her anger build up against her father, so once she put Rob to bed she sought him out.

He’d been in his room, working on his laptop.

“Daddy, this has to stop!”

“And just what makes you say that?”

“Rob was damn near raped because of you?”

“I? Goodness gracious, I haven’t seen the boy all evening.”

“Don’t play the innocent. You set him up with that fat bastard, and the same fat bastard almost raped him in the garden.”

“He didn’t though, did he?”

“No thanks to you.”

“Oh, Prudence, you are so well named. I trusted Rob to be able to take care of himself, and he did. So where’s the problem?”

“Daddy, he was damn nearly raped, what would you feel like if he had been?”

“Pru, he wasn’t, so there’s no problem.”

This wasn’t the first such incident, but Rob became more adept at handling lecherous males after that, even to the point of providing ‘hand-relief’ on a couple of occasions.

Robert, Pru and Rob’s father, managed to acquire the signature from an extremely embarrassed Australian, who could remember nothing about the previous evening after leaving the bar. For some reason, Art was informed that he had actually raped the American girl, and it was only Robert’s diplomacy and tact that prevented her from taking the allegation to the local police.

Pru never truly trusted her father again.
 

*          *          *
 
Rob finished repainting his nails, putting the varnish away in his large vanity case. He glanced up, as he brushed his long hair.

“Oh, Pru, you’re not worrying that I’m turning into a transsexual again, are you?”

“This can’t be doing either of us any good. You do it too well to be an act.”

Rob shrugged, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Pru, lighten up. If you take it seriously, then it’s bound to affect you. I don’t, I treat it as a game, as a challenge. My challenge is to convince everyone that what they see is real. You know how far I’ve gone with some men, and even when kissing them, it’s an act, just as actors on the stage or movies, it isn’t the real me.”

Rob cast off the dressing gown, and Pru saw clearly the real Rob. Notwithstanding the silicone breast forms; his shape was otherwise so obviously male that she could only admire his skills in dressing. Padded panties and a tight waist-clinching corset gave him that perfect shape. His arms, normally concealed beneath silk sleeves, were a little too sinewy and the muscles too well defined to be classically female. Yet, Rob had managed to risk the beach in a swimsuit on several occasions, portraying an athletic female, who found herself surrounded by huge hunks of muscle-bound testosterone that left Pru gasping in pure admiration at his skills in deception.

Flirting outrageously, making dates and never going too far, Rob now knew the limits, and if anyone attempted to push past these limits, he was quick and very well able to maintain his honour and his secret.

“Admit it girl, you’re jealous of your little brother,” he teased.

“Perhaps, a little. Not so much of your physical attributes, more of your confidence and whole carefree attitude. That I envy.”

“Aha, therein lies the responsibility of being the elder child. I let you worry, and so I don’t have to.”

Pru laughed, but in truth was becoming very weary of this game their parent had them play. The role reversal had started when Rob had been thirteen, and they were living in Hong Kong. Rob even attended an English School as Charlotte Ramsay, and had managed to fool teachers and pupils alike for an entire year.

Pru had been Jennifer, and allowed to be Charlie’s elder sister. No one questioned the girls, as Charlotte had been so pretty and charming. In fact, much to their father’s amusement, in the school play, Pru was selected to play the leading man opposite Rob as the leading lady.

One year later, in New Zealand, fourteen year old Rob was back to being a boy, Jamie Scott, with an elder brother, Simon. Their first names had changed almost on a yearly basis, as had their surnames. In truth, neither of them knew what their real surname was.

“What time do we have to be at Theresa’s?” Rob asked.

“She said she’d be home around noon, so we’ve been asked in time for lunch.”

“Good, then we’ve time to drop in on the Greysons.”

“Oh, Rob, please give up this madness.”

“Pru, come on, live a little. Your mountain might be there,” Rob said.

Pru smiled slightly.

“Just promise me; no funny business, okay?”

“Moi? Funny business? When have I ever stooped to funny business?”

“Daily, goodnight,” said Pru, wanting to be in her room and having a much needed rest.

Brother and sister kissed each other, both silently thankful for the other. For as siblings, rarely had any been quite so interdependent.

Pru was very tired, and she was so grateful to be free of the tight bindings she kept across her chest. She had a long soak in her bath, allowing her skin time to breathe and be free from constraint. She knew that Rob lived totally as his adopted persona, both in view of others and out of view.

Pru, however, couldn’t do that and keep sane. Whenever alone, she’d return to the familiar and comfort of being herself. Therefore, as she dried herself, she slipped on a silk nightdress and not a pair of flannel pyjamas. She looked at herself in the mirror, and realised she did envy Rob. She knew she was good looking, in a larger sort of way. Her cropped hair was indicative of her role, and made her look more masculine. However, her shape was classically hourglass, and she was an accomplished actor, capable of maintaining a deception for long periods at a time.

The voice was the hardest, as both had found. Pru had managed to master a very masculine gruff voice, and found by speaking quite quietly, she was able to sound convincing.

It had to be said, that apart from their school days in strange climes, the longest they’d ever had to maintain a deception normally ran to hours rather than days. This wasn’t a problem for Pru, but was for Rob, who needed to shave occasionally.

Pru had also experienced occasional near misses due to her real gender. As one can imagine, tampons and feminine hygiene products are not a prerequisite of many male facilities. She’d become very adept at anticipating such emergencies.

Although weary, sleep was not quick in coming to Pru. Her mind flitted to the incident with Mr Markham and the pretty girl, Letty. However, it was of Tony Fanshaw she thought of most - the tall man with the casual attitude to life. His smile was warm and although slow to start, rewarded one with a depth of humour that seemed to glow. She experienced a strange feeling when she thought of him. For so long she had been prepared to up-sticks and move at a moments notice, the feeling of safety and security was as alien to her as knowing the warmth of home.

Yet, Tony made her feel safe. For under his gaze, she felt a curious protection existed, and from his mere presence, she drew a feeling of security.

Pru fell asleep, but the smile on her face was one that she seldom adopted.

Rob, however, slept like a log. He had an innate ability to be able to close his eyes and go to sleep, at any time of the day or night. This skill annoyed his sister so much that she now believed he did it solely to wind her up.
 
 
Chapter 4 - Stepping Out
 
 
Pru was woken up by someone tickling her feet.

She opened an eye to see Rob, immaculately dressed in a beautiful Italian silk dress, with makeup hosiery and shoes to match.

“Bastard!” she muttered.

Rob laughed, somehow managing to sound so feminine, and yet retain the core of his masculine identity.

“It’s nearly eight thirty. If we’re going to drop in on the Greysons, we need to get a move on.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Bloody ages. Don’t you know how long it takes us girls to look pretty in the morning?”

Pru laughed and made for the bathroom.

“Get me a coffee, there’s a love,” she said, running the shower.

She wasn’t long, and came out a few moments later, with a towel wrapped round her, as most women do. Rob had poured her a coffee, and was sitting reading the Daily Telegraph.

“Tremaine Holdings are up again,” he said.

“Good for them, so what?”

“Dad was always particularly interested in them, over and above all others.”

“Why?”

“Beats me, I just remember him always looking at them first, no matter where we were in the world.” He turned over a few pages.

“Oh God! I don’t like the new Spring range from Paris. Those shoulders are just over the top.”

Pru smiled and shook her head. Some girl was going to have a tough time if he ever found one stupid enough to get married to him.

Pru drank her coffee, reluctantly dressing once more as a male. Rob helped with the binding process, so that once more, Pru became Peter Marriott. Combing her hair with a central parting, Pru conceded that she looked the part.

“If I was a girl, I’d fancy you,” Rob teased, looking every inch a very attractive girl.

“Thanks darling.”

Rob helped Pru pack, and then they descended with their luggage to the reception level. They left their bags with the receptionist, strolling into the dining room for breakfast.

Many a male eye followed Rob’s seductive walk as Katie once more took to the floor. He had perfected a walk that rolled the buttocks, with shoulders perfectly straight, placing each delicately high heeled foot in front of the other with the toe just pointing out, causing grown men to cry and redistribute their anatomy inside their trousers.

Katie sat, just giving a brief tantalising flash of leg before pulling her hem down to cover up. They both ordered a full English breakfast, and settled down to watch the other guests.

“Do you think it ever warms up?” Rob asked.

They both stared at the greyness outside and the rain that lashed against the vast glass wall. The pond looked wholly uninviting.

“I bloody well hope so,” said Pru, with some feeling.

“Do you remember any of it?”

She shook her head.

“I was only two or something when we left. I don’t even remember Mum.”

“I know. I still feel guilty,” said Rob.

“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault the doctors in Columbia were crap. Dad’s shouldn’t have ever made us leave.”

“It’s not Dad’s fault. They said that her heart was going to go pop anytime. It was just my birth that caused it. It would have happened here, as well.”

“I still think we shouldn’t have left. I often wonder what kind of life we would have had if we’d stayed.”

“Boring! I would be boring, not able to speak Cantonese, Arabic, French, German, Spanish, Italian, and all the rest. We would never have had as much fun as we have.”

Pru smiled.

“I still would have liked a home.”

“We’ve had hundreds. Remember that ranch in Argentina?”

“Yes, we only stayed there eight months.”

“We stayed in Monaco for nearly two years. That villa was brilliant.”

“It wasn’t home though, was it?”

“It was good enough. What about the yacht in the Aegean?”

“That was lovely, but is wasn’t a home. We’ve never had a dog, do you realise that?”

“So? I had a tarantula in New Mexico.”

“It’s hardly the same,” Pru said.

“Maybe not, but it gave me respect at school.”

“Third graders don’t keep tarantulas in their lunch pails.”

“I did.”

Pru went quiet as their food was delivered.

“It was fun, though, most of it,” she admitted.

“It’s not over yet. I have a feeling this bit will be the best.”

At that moment, one of the receptionists came over to their table.

“Mr Marriott?” he asked Pru.

“Yes?”

“I have a message for you, sir.”

The man handed Pru a folded piece of paper and departed.

She read it.

“Shit!”

“What?”

“It’s Tony. He’s invited me to a dinner at his club tomorrow night. Black tie.”

“Oh, goodie, we get to go shopping,” said Rob.

“No, not ‘we’, this is a men only event.”

Rob smiled.

“How apt,” he said, and continued eating.

They left the hotel at nine thirty, catching a black cab for the centre of town.

The cabbie wasn’t the cheeky cockney that Rob was expecting. He was a disillusioned University ex-lecturer from Aberdeen, who grunted occasionally and sniffed perpetually.

They arrived at Cadogan Place in Belgravia at a quarter after ten. It was still raining. The whole of London seemed to have an atmosphere of gloom hanging over it, even the posh bits.

They took all their luggage out of the cab, and Pru paid the miserable Scotsman. Looking up at the large town house, she felt slightly out of her depth.

“Are you sure this is the place?” she asked.

“Yup, absolutely. Impressive, isn’t it?” ‘Katie’ answered, pushing the bell.

Pru smiled, watching her brother adopt perfect feminine gestures and mannerisms as if born to the role. The door opened and a man dressed in a smart suit looked at them.

“Hello, we’re Katie and Peter Marriott, we’ve come to make sure that Letty got home in one piece after her nasty ordeal.”

“Please some in,” said the man, eying the baggage with some apprehension.

“Oh, we’re just dropping in for a quick visit. We’re on way to Elm Park Gardens, do you know it?”

“I do, Miss, thank you. Please, leave them here and come through to the sitting room, I’ll inform Miss Letitia and Sir Charles that you’re here.”

The butler left them in a luxurious sitting room, with what could have been a Turner over the mantelpiece.

“Letitia,” said Pru, smiling.

“It’s better than Prudence.”

“Yes, Katherine, it is.”

Their sibling spat was interrupted by Letty bursting into the room at a run, and flinging herself into Rob’s arms.

“Oh, Katie, I’m so glad you came. I was hoping you would.”

“We just had to make sure Tony brought you back in one piece,” said Pru.

“And why shouldn’t I?” said a deep voice from the doorway.

Pru went bright red and Rob laughed with pure joy.

“No reason, I just, um, I just wanted, to….” Pru was lost for words, looking embarrassed.

“Did you get my message?” Tony asked.

“I did, thank you. It was very kind of you to ask me, but until I’ve touched base with our hosts, I am not yet able to accept.”

“I understand. Give me a bell when you know.” Tony turned to Rob. “Are you well, Miss Marriott?”

“Tony, please call me Katie. Miss Marriott sounds so formal. I’m very well, but wholly unused to the climate. Does it ever stop raining?”

“I told it did once in eighteen seventy-four, for ten minutes,” he said, drawing a smile from all.

Sir Charles Greyson chose that moment to enter the room. He saw his daughter with her arm around a strikingly attractive blonde-haired girl some three or four inches taller that she. Tony was standing next to another fine looking young man, of medium height and build. It was Tony who introduced them.

“Sir Charles, this is the delightful pair who thwarted that arse Markham last evening. Katie and Peter Marriott, Sir Charles Greyson, Letty’s longsuffering father.”

Sir Charles looked faintly embarrassed. He was of slight stature, with grey hair, receding, but rather long at the back so it curled over his Saville Row suit and pink shirt. In his late fifties, he was particularly protective of his daughter, who had come late in life to his late wife and he. This over-protectiveness was probably the cause for her rather flighty behaviour, but somehow, he was unable to revise his behaviour at this late stage.

“I am indebted to you, it seems.” He was about to formally shake their hands, when Katie breezed over to him and kissed his cheek. She was of a similar height to him, if not slightly taller in her heels.

“Oh, Sir Charles, I’ve heard so much about you, and I don’t believe a single word the girl said. It is so nice to meet you, and I can see where Letty gets her twinkle from.”

From that moment on, ‘Katie’ had him eating out from her hand. Pru simply shook the man’s hand, muttering, “How d’ye do,” and stood back and let ‘Katie’ do the rest.

They spent an hour with the Greysons. Tony took ‘Peter’ to the snooker room, as clearly the two girls were inseparable once Sir Charles retired to his study, much relieved to find Letty in the tender hands of a responsible female companion for a change. Pru gasped at her brother’s audacity as she heard him say to Sir Charles, “Rest assured, for while I am in London, I shall make it my business to be a good friend to Letty, and make sure that she’s rarely out of my sight.”

Crafty bugger.

Pru, no stranger to snooker, pool or billiards, performed more than adequately against Tony, by beating him in the first frame.

“Letty tells me that you’ve lived abroad for most of your life, where about?”

“All over. USA, Canada, South America, Europe, the Far East and Australasia. Dad has various business interests, so we kept moving around.”

“You must have seen some sights, eh?”

“One or two. Thailand was different. Hopefully things will settle down now we’re back.”

“Left a string of girlfriends along the way?”

Pru went red; pleased she was standing behind Tony as he played his shot.

“One or two, maybe.”

“I’ll bet your sister’s a real heart breaker.”

“Yes, she is,” Pru said, not having to lie for a change.

“Who’s the elder?”

“I am by a couple of years. I’m twenty four.”

“You don’t look it.”

“My nickname at school was Cherub, but to be honest, I’d rather forget that.”

Tony laughed and potted the white of the end cushion.

“Shit!”

Pru smiled.

“What school did you go to?” she asked.

“Wellington. Dad went there, so it was a family tradition. How about you?”

“I went to about twelve schools in all, stretching from Columbia to Australia and most points in between.”

Tony paused in his game, looking up at her.

“So, there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye. Were these English Schools or what?”

“Or what mostly. A couple were, like Hong Kong and Milan, but usually they were simply local schools in the local language. America and Canada were easier, on the language front at any rate.”

“Ah, a bit of a linguist then?”

Pru smiled.

“A bit,” she said, modestly.

“What do you do?”

“I’ve got a job with Tremaine Industries, in their legal department.”

“Lawyer?”

“Law degree only. International Law at Harvard.”

Tony was impressed.

“And Katie, I’m sure she’s not just a pretty face?”

Pru laughed out loud.

“Oh, she’s far more than meets the eye. She’s the real linguist. I can get by, but she’s fluent in six other languages and most capable in as many more. She starts work with the same company in their International office, as an interpreter and translator.”

“I’ve not heard of Tremaine Industries.”

“Neither had I, until searching for jobs. They had a push to recruit people with international experience.”

“It certainly sounds as if you two fit the bill.” Tony left Pru with a snooker, and stood back grinning maliciously. “Get out of that!”

Pru did, by going of two cushions and a pocket edge. She was rather fluky and potted the last red.

“Bugger me!” said Tony.

“I’d rather not, I’m off luxuries this week,” said Pru, potting the black and lining up on the yellow.

She potted the yellow but missed the green. Her lead left Tony needing at least three snookers.

“You’ve played before,” he said.

“Once or twice,” she admitted.

“I hope you can make dinner, you’d like the club.”

“Loads of old men in leather armchairs, overdosing on gin?” Pru asked.

Tony chuckled and potted the pink instead of the brown.

“Fuck! I concede, sir.”

“Seriously, what do you do, apart from fuel a chemical dependency in a leather armchair?”

Tony laughed again.

“I like that,” he said. “I farm. Or to be brutally honest, I manage six farms of our land. I took over from my Pa when he died four years ago; I was only twenty-four when he went. Had to leave the army, just as I was about to sign on as a regular. So, we had tenant farmers in five, while the main farm was ours. To be frank, we were buggered by the recent mad cow disease scare, and then came foot and mouth. The tenants sold up and decided to leave, so I took on all the farms, diversifying into vegetables for supermarkets and putting one farm under glass for tomatoes and some soft fruits.

“I employ three managers, one for the livestock, one the arable crops and the last for the green houses. I breed prize bulls on the original farm, and my mother’s stables are still very lucrative. To be honest the place runs itself, but occasionally I show up and pretend to know what is going on.”

“You miss the army,” Pru said. It was a statement, not a question.

He chuckled again.

“Yes I do, does it show?”

“Yes, a little. Oh, don’t get me wrong, you are committed to what you’re doing, but you miss the life you left behind.”

“You’re very astute, that’s why I joined the TA. I’m a Captain in the Bucks and Berks Horse. It’s an armoured yeomanry regiment; we get together and play soldiers every month and, once a year, go somewhere different to play for a week or so. It’s not the same but it does the job.”

“My father says that you can take the man out of the army, but you can never take the soldier out of the man.”

Tony looked at Pru, half closing his eyes.

“I must meet your father some day, he sounds my sort of chap.”

“I think he is,” Pru said, reddening, for her father also said, “A girl will often marry a man who is most like her father.”

“So, another game, or shall we join the girls?” Tony asked.

Pru looked at her watch, noting that over an hour had elapsed. She couldn’t remember an hour she had enjoyed so much for a long time.

“We’d better go, we are due at out friends in a while. Thanks for the game.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry I wasn’t better competition for you. Perhaps we could have a game of squash someday soon?”

Pru laughed in spite of her control.

“Maybe. It’s not my game, though.”

“I don’t mind winning, I promise,” Tony said, and Pru blushed.

Returning to the sitting room, the girls were nowhere to be found. However, Letty’s giggles led them upstairs to Letty’s bedroom, or to be more accurate, Letty’s suite.

It was a huge house, and with just Letty and her father in the main house, with the staff of three in apartments to the rear, it was really far bigger than was appropriate for so few people. However, Sir Charles wouldn’t see it that way, and entertained his foreign clients and guests in a grand scale, initially with his wife as hostess, and after she died, his daughter in her place.

They found Letty and Katie kneeling on the floor looking at photograph albums scattered around them.

“This is Tony as a serious sixteen year old,” said Letty, pointing at the page. Pru leaned over and saw a much younger and serious faced Tony glaring at the camera.

“I don’t like having my picture taken, either,” she said.

“I’m not so bad these days, but I used to hate it.”

“Katie, we ought to be going. Theresa’s expecting us any minute,” Pru said.

Rob looked up and grinned, his eyes dancing with unmitigated pleasure.

“Did you get beaten then, Peter?”

“I’m ashamed to say that young Peter thrashed me in two straight frames. He is a veritable tiger with a cue,” Tony said.

“You’ll have to get together for a rematch. Do they have tables in the Cavalry Club, Tony?” Rob asked.

“Indeed they do.”

“Then he’ll just have to accept your very kind offer, I’m sure Theresa will understand,” Rob said, enjoying watching Pru’s colour rise in her cheeks.

“I’ll wait until I check with her. She might have something planned, you never know. It would be impolite to make plans without speaking to her first.”

“I quite agree, give me a ring when you know. I gave you a card, didn’t I?” Tony asked.

“Yes, you did,” said Pru.

They said their farewells in the hall, even causing Sir Charles to venture out from his study to thank them once again.

“We’d better call a cab, I’m not lugging all this round to Elm Park Gardens,” said ‘Katie’.

“”I’ll drop you off, if you like. I’ve plenty of room in the beast,” said Tony.

“The beast?” said Pru.

“My Range Rover. Letty calls it the beast because she thinks it’s too big for the town.”

“I might have known you’d have one of them,” ‘Katie’ said with a smile.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to,” said Pru, before Rob started lowering the conversation down to penis sizes in relation to the size of a man’s car.

“It’s no problem, I’d like to help.”

Pru blushed again, feeling foolish, as the man was just being friendly.

“Thanks, it’ll save us a few bob,” said Rob, recognising that Pru was getting sidetracked.

It took them a few minutes to reach Elm Park Gardens, and to a slightly smaller but equally up-market town house.

“Ah, the Lowes,” said Tony as he pulled up outside.

“You know them?” Pru asked.

“Yes, I was at Oxford with Stephen. How do you know them?”

“Daddy met Roger Lowe in Hong Kong some time ago, and I think they still have business connections,” said Pru.

Theresa opened the front door and was surprised to see Tony with the siblings.

“Tony, what are you doing?” she asked. Her accent was still discernable, although she’d been married to Roger for thirty years; her French accent had not quite been eliminated. Hailing from Switzerland, she met Roger at a conference in Geneva. Roger had been a hard-nosed businessman, and she was the complete opposite, so they had complimented each other wonderfully. She was a gloriously outrageous hostess, and as a result, any party at the Lowes was bound to be fun.

Roger died a couple of years previously, and the siblings’ father had renewed his friendship with her shortly afterwards in Geneva.

She was a jolly plump woman, being one of those women whose beauty wasn’t reduced by age, but enhanced. Her lively smile and wonderful sense of fun transcended generation boundaries, and her laughter was infectious.

“Theresa, how lovely to see you. It seems that we now have mutual friends. These good people were of assistance to Letty last evening, and in return I find myself helping them. I had no idea they were coming here until just now.”

“What’s Letty done this time?” Theresa asked.

“Just been a blackmail victim by that idiot Howard Markham, do you know him?”

“I don’t think so.”

“He’s nothing to worry about, but he thought he could get his hands on her assets by marrying her. Letty, poor fool that she can be, fancied she was in love and went as far as the airport and then, as usual, got a touch of the seconds. Luckily, Peter and Katie here managed to thwart him, and Letty was reunited with us once more.”

“How fortunate,” she said, arching her eyebrows at Pru.

“While I am here, would it be in order for me to steal young Peter from you tomorrow evening for dinner at the club? Only I’d hate for it to clash with an event you’d already planned.”

Theresa looked questioningly at Pru, and noticed that Rob was trying hard not to laugh.

“I have nothing planned, so he is all yours, if he wants to, that is.”

“Oh, he’ll want to,” said Rob, watching his sister go bright red again.

“That’s settled, I’ll be here at seven to pick you up, old man,” Tony said.

“Right, thanks,” stammered Pru.

Tony kissed Theresa and ‘Katie’s’ cheeks, shook Pru’s hand and departed.

“Welcome to England my loves. Oh, to see Tony kiss you, Robbie dear, what a lovely sight.”

“Theresa, don’t you remember me, I’m Pru?” said Rob.

“Pah, you are far too slender to be Prudence, and far too pretty.”

“Thanks very much,” said Pru.

“You, my dear are not pretty like the boy, you are beautiful and statuesque. It might have been six years since I last saw you, but you are far more the woman than your impish little brother ever could hope to be,” she said, giving them both a hug.

“Tell me how’s your father?”

“As always, insufferable,” said Rob as the door closed, and for a while, they were able to be themselves.
 
 
Chapter 5 - New Friends
 
 
“I’m not happy with this,” Pru admitted, as Rob helped her with the black bow tie.

“You’ll be fine.”

“I just feel he’ll find me out, and I can’t face the humiliation. He’ll be so angry and it isn’t fair to him.”

“You’ll be fine. Man-mountain is as blind as a bat, you’ll dance rings round him. There, a work of art, even if I say so myself.”

He stood by his sister and they both regarded her reflection in the full-length mirror.

The dinner jacket (tuxedo, for the North Americans) fitted perfectly, and with a crimson cummerbund, she looked very dashing.

“I’m shaking,” she admitted.

“You’ll be fine,” Rob repeated.

She made a face, desperately torn. On the one hand she knew she had to keep to the plan, yet on the other, she wanted to throw away Peter and be herself. She found Tony attractive and wanted earnestly to be the woman for him.

“Maybe he’s gay, and fancies your bum.”

“Rob. That’s disgusting!”

“Look, if he’s straight, then you’ve nothing to worry about. If he’s not, he’s in for a disappointment, isn’t he?”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, noting that Rob was still dressed as Katie, even if in jeans and a sweater.

“Letty and I are going up to the West End to see a film.”

“Oh Rob, be careful.”

“I shall. Look, I like the girl, and want to be with her. I promise I’ll behave and won’t disgrace myself by giving the game away.”

Rob brushed a spec of dust of his sister’s shoulders.

“You’re as ready as can be. Just go and enjoy yourself. Try to relax and go with the flow.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Oh, Pru, just relax. If things get sticky, make an excuse and leave. Say you’ve got jet-lag or something.”

There were sounds of movement downstairs, and Theresa’s voice shouted up.

“Peter, Tony’s here.”

“Oh shit!”

“He’s coming,” shouted Rob.

“I feel like a girl on her first date.”

“Pru, you are, but he doesn’t know it yet.”

“Oh, Rob, what do I do?”

Rob grabbed her by the arm and physically pulled her out of the room and to the stairs. By the time they reached the foot of the stairs, she was able to move without assistance.

“Hi, Peter, ready?” Tony asked.

“Yup.”

“Gosh, Katie, you’re looking lovely. Letty says you’re both off to the cinema. Have fun.”

“Thanks Tony, try not to get my brother too drunk.”

With a nervous smile, Pru followed Tony out of the house. Theresa turned to Rob.

“She’s very nervous, why?”

“I think she thinks she’s in love,” Rob said with a grin.

“With Tony? How delightful. So many girls have yet to snare that one. They would make a perfect match.”

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“Oh, your Papa. He’ll be fine with it. Tony is of an impeccable family. And he’s filthy rich.”

Rob laughed, as Theresa pronounced it as ‘feelthy’.

Rob pulled on his leather jacket and slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He then stood facing the hall mirror, shaking out his hair and repairing his lipstick.

“Is Tony gay?” he asked.

“Oh dear me, no. At least, I don’t think so, why?”

“If he is, then Pru is in more danger than we thought. If he isn’t, and twigs, the result could be similar.”

Theresa found this enormously humorous, and she gave Rob a hug as the lad left the house.
 

*          *          *
 
“Ever been to a club?” Tony asked, as they made their way towards the Hyde Park end of Piccadilly, and the Cavalry and Guards Club.

“I’ve not been in England since I was two.”

“I forgot, sorry. But surely they have similar abroad?”

“They had one in India, but I was only a child. I just remember the Indian army officers being almost more English than the Brits. It was very strange. I went to an American Officer’s club, and that was slightly different, I think.”

“Never fancy the forces as a career?”

Pru smiled and shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I think you’d like it.”

“Perhaps,” she said, noncommittally.

“Well, not to worry, you’ll meet some of the chaps I used to soldier with. There will be twelve of us. Six from the regiment and each with a guest.”

“Oh, no women then?”

“No, chaps only, so the jokes will be slightly juicy.”

“Ah!”

“No girl friend, young Peter?”

“No, not at the moment. How about you?”

“Lots have tried, but I have yet to find one that meets my exacting standards.”

“And just what are they?”

“I rather subscribe to Professor Henry Higgins’ view,” Tony said, with a chuckle.

“Oh, that a woman should be more like a man?”

“Capital. You know My Fair Lady?”

Pru grinned.

“It was my mother’s favourite show. Dad would play the video endlessly, just to remind himself of happier times.”

“I know it’s frightfully non-PC, but I can’t be doing with those women who get all fluffy about life. Take your sister, she’s lovely, but probably knows more about those clothes she wears than could possibly be good for her. Every time I’ve seen her, she looks wonderful, but can she unhitch a trailer from a Land Rover, or grab a sheep with its head stuck through a barbed wire fence?”

“Actually, yes, she can. Katie is hardly your normal girl. She is a better shot than most men I know, she rides a motorcycle and she swears like one of your troopers.”

“Really? Hmm, interesting,” said Tony with a strange expression in his eye.

Pru closed her eyes briefly, wondering why she couldn’t just keep her big mouth shut. Now the man she fancied was interested in her brother because she just sold him to the man. Sod!

“However,” she continued. “She has more clothes than we have wardrobes, she takes forever to get ready for anything, and just can’t hold her liquor.”

“I could live with that,” Tony said with a smile. Pru almost rose to the bait, but then realised he was teasing her.

“Here we are.”

It was an imposing building with remarkable views of Green Park, in the heart of Mayfair. They entered and Pru found herself in a spectacular hallway, with a black and white checked floor and an ornate staircase winding upwards past the chandeliers.

“We’re in the Double Bridal Room on the second floor. It’s at the back of the building, but it’s nice and quiet. We can get hopelessly pissed and no one will give a damn.”

That’s nice,” said Pru, not meaning it at all. Suddenly, she was feeling even more nervous. They went up the stairs, finding the room indeed tucked away at the back of the building. Four men had already arrived; standing with drinks in their hands. All were wearing dinner jackets, so Pru felt less conspicuous. One was wearing full mess dress, including medals and three pips of rank.

“Fanny! Good to see you man,” said a very jovial looking young man with a florid face and large paunch.

Pru was amused by Tony’s nickname, storing it away for future use.

“Podger, still too fat, I see,” said Tony, shaking the other’s hand.

“This is a young friend of mine, Peter Marriott. He’s very bravely agreed to come along and partake of a boozy evening with us tonight. The overweight oaf is Paul Stewart-Grant, the thin captain in mess kit, with the silly moustache is Archie McRae, and I’m afraid I don’t know their guests.”

The men introduced themselves to Pru. All were mid to late twenties, and so far these were all taller than she. Before any conversation could start, the other six arrived. Pru was introduced to them all, but instantly forgot their names.

Tony handed her a gin and tonic, which she gratefully sipped. Then she gasped. It was fifty percent gin. She knew full well that two of these, and she was going to be in great danger of losing whatever control she had. She walked over to the single large round table and looked at the menu, while seeking somewhere to dispose her drink unobserved.

Tiger Prawns & Sole Terrine with a Roast Yellow Pepper Coulis * * * Breast of Duck with a Honey & Ginger Sauce Chá¢teaux Potatoes Panache of Root Vegetables * * * Passion Fruit Tart with Crá¨me Fraiche * * * Coffee

The menu looked delicious, and as she glanced at the eleven men, it dawned on her that not one of them had the slightest notion that a female had penetrated their traditional defences and was even now lurking in their midst.

“Looks good enough to eat,”said Tony, as he joined her at the table. He rested on hand on her shoulder.

“It does; the prawns in Australia will take some beating, I have to say.”

Tony smiled. Pru suddenly felt a prickle of apprehension. Did the man know? Did he suspect? Why was he so friendly? Was Rob right, was he gay? She suddenly didn’t want to be here. Yet, the touch of his hand and his proximity to her excited her in ways she had never experienced before.

They all had another drink before dinner, and much to Pru’s consternation, she was forced to drink them both. She took the opportunity to escape to the lavatory, and seated in the cubicle, she attempted to make sense of her confusion.

Her father had strictly instructed her to keep a low profile and avoid any extensive socialising whereby she could be readily identified or exposed. She laughed, without any humour. It was day two, and she was already doing everything wrong. She shook her head sadly and concluded her business. However, just before leaving the cubicle, two men entered, and were obviously stood at the urinals.

“Who’s that young chap with Tony?” one asked the other.

“No idea, a Peter someone. Never seen him before.”

“Is he army?”

“Don’t think so. Tony mentioned something about being in law.”

“Looks too young to be a barrister. How did Tony meet him?”

“He and his sister helped out with his cousin, you remember her, the one who nearly ran off with that black rapper last year?”

“What Letty?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Nice girl, pity about the old man. He’s so over protective, it’s no wonder the poor girl wants to run away the whole time.”

The men progressed from the urinal to the washbasins.

“Still, Peter has a gorgeous sister, by all accounts.”

“Really?”

“Yah, Tony said she’s a real blonde bombshell, and quite a character. She and Letty have gone up town to the cinema tonight.”

“I’ll have to see if I can’t meet her. What’s her name?”

“Katie, I think.”

The men left, and Pru couldn’t help smiling. The coast clear, she came out of the cubicle, washed her hands, and returned to the small chamber.

The men were all sitting and she took her place next to Tony. She watched with dismay as a large glass of white wine was poured into an enormous glass.

“We’ve a beautiful burgundy for the next course,” said the captain.

Pru groaned inwardly. This was going to be tough, as she was already feeling slightly tipsy.
 

*          *          *
 
Meanwhile, across town in a cinema just off Leicester Square, Letty sat close to Rob watching an American chick flick. They were sharing a tub of popcorn, and Letty had held Rob’s arm since they left the house.

“I can’t remember the last time I went to the cinema,” Letty whispered.

“Me neither.” Rob said, feeling intoxicated by the scent in Letty’s hair. The sticking plaster holding him in place was seriously threatened, and he tried to concentrate on the movie. It was utter balls, but Letty was enjoying it, and so Rob sat there, simply enjoying being with her.

After the movie ended, they went to Garfunkles to grab something to eat. They lined up behind the ‘Wait Here To Be Seated’ sign, and Letty chatted inanely about the film. She tucked her arm through Rob’s, and they looked just like two girls out on the town.

Carlo Pascini had been working in London for three years. Now, as headwaiter, he had an eye for the pretty girls. Not only did his Latin charm usually ensure the girls were good tippers, he had an excellent record of persuading them to meet him later.

It was the blonde one that caught his eye. She was with a smaller darker girl, who was equally pretty, but less dynamic somehow. He busied himself, helping arrange tables, watching her as he did so. She was like a lioness, gentle and deliberate in movement, but with hidden power and strength.

She became aware of his gaze and their eyes met. Her blue eyes were wonderful, but also quite fearless. She met and held his stare so that it was he who broke away, slightly breathless and intrigued. He had found his quarry for the evening.

The two girls were behind a party of five young men. He found a table for two that became free, and rapidly cleared it, resetting it in record time. He approached the line. Holding up a hand with two fingers raised, he stared at the blonde girl and smiled.

“Two, I have a table for two!”

It was the darker girl who stuck up her hand, and he let them through to guide them to their table.

“Buonasera, belle signorine!” he said.

To his dismay, the object of his desire smiled sweetly and replied in fluent Italian.

“Taglio l'amoreggia, e ci dá  il menu!” (Cut the flirting and give us the menu)

“E italiano, Signorina?”

“No,” she said, sitting in the chair he held for her.

He nodded and smiled. She was even more of a challenge now!

“You would like a drink?” he asked.

“White wine for me,” said the darker girl.

“Beer, a pint of John Smiths, please.”

Carlo, smiling and nodding, thought this girl was wonderful.

The girls chatted like old friends. Actually, Rob said very little as Letty said enough for both of them. Rob discovered rather a lonely girl, who was seeking stability and freedom from her father. Despite all that had happened, she adored her father, who obviously thought the world of her.

“Why can’t I meet that special man, the one I dream about every night?” she asked Rob.

“Tell me about him,” Rob asked.

“Well, he’s not as big as Tony, we’d have to fit well together, so he’s not too tall. He’s strong and very quick. But most of all, he has a smile that melts my heart. He would find me an icicle from an Alpine waterfall to cool my drink, and he’d leave me a single white rose on my bedside for me to find in the morning.”

“White?”

“I adore white roses. He’d be so fair, to contrast with my dark hair, and he’d be like you.”

“Me?” said Rob, almost dropping into a dangerous octave through surprise.

“Yes, he’d be able to speak in lots of different languages, and just be able to protect me from harm for the rest of my life.”

“Tall order, I doubt one like that exists,” Rob said.

“He exists!” she said, quite certain.

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen him.”

“When?” he asked, frowning.

“In my dreams. He comes to me every night.”

“What’s he look like?”

“I told you,” she said, grinning.

“His face, what’s his face look like?”

“I don’t know, as he wears a mask. You know, like Batman and Robin.”

“Letty you are an incurable romantic. No one wears masks these days.”

“He does.”

Rob laughed and Letty joined in. Carlo brought their drinks.

They ordered their food, and Rob, recognising the predatory nature of the Italian, flirted outrageously with the poor man.

The food was adequate and just the quantity they needed, and in a busy restaurant, they were able to chatter in privacy in the midst of so much noise.

“So, when do you start at your new job?” Letty asked.

“Monday.”

“Where is it?”

“Tremaine Tower is just down from Victoria station towards the Houses of Parliament. It’s not far from New Scotland Yard. St James tube station is the closest.”

“Not far then.”

“No.”

“I’m still trying to get a job, but the HND isn’t really enough for most papers.”

“Why not do a degree?”

“I don’t want to. I have to be honest, I don’t need a job. Certainly not for the money, but I want to get out and see the world. I wanted to do VSO, you know, to go and help out in some poor country or something, but Daddy refused to let me go until I was over twenty-one. I get all my inheritance then, you see.”

“When is your birthday?”

“Not until August, why?”

“I have a feeling you’ll meet the man of your dreams before then, and he’ll whisk you away to places you haven’t dreamed about yet.”

Letty smiled.

“You’re teasing me.”

“A little, but I actually think you will find him. How do you think you’ll meet?”

“Oh, it has to be in a castle, with a full moon, and he’ll wear his mask. I’ll know him by his smile, and he’ll speak to me in French, calling me ‘Ma chéri’.”

“I was right, you are incurable,” Rob said, smiling and wondering where the hell he could find a mask.

They paid for the meal, and left a love-torn Carlo wondering where he had gone wrong. They caught a cab, to drop Letty off first.

“I wonder how Peter is getting on,” Letty said.

“Hmm, I wonder.”
 

*          *          *
 
Pru was drunk. She knew she was drunk, and had just heard one of the most revolting stories she had ever heard. They had reached the cigar and brandy stage and she had managed not to be sick, but had yet to fall over.

She told a story about an English sailor who went to bed with a prostitute, only to find the girl was a boy. The punch line contained words she had never before spoken, and yet the men seemed to appreciate it.

She saw Tony smiling at her, and her heart ached. She wanted to grab him, confess all and ask him to take her to bed. However, she didn’t. She excused herself and went to the lavatory again.

She sat on the toilet, bowed over with her head on her arms. She found herself silently crying tears of frustration. Why can’t I be me? She asked herself.

Hearing no answer, she cried a little more.

“Peter, are you in here?” Tony’s voice asked.

“Yes, won’t be a minute.”

“Okay chap, I’ve had enough, so if you don’t mind, we’ll make a move. Archie’s just thrown up in the fireplace.”

Pru started to laugh, and managed to dress herself without too much trouble.

The others were as bad or worse than they, so after saying goodnight, they left.

“Look, old man, my place is closer than yours, why don’t you crash on the sofa, just for the night?” Tony said.

A sofa sounded heavenly to Pru so she heard herself agreeing. They arrived at a small mews and Tony’s flat was half way down on the right hand side. He fumbled with the key and managed to open the door.

It was a two bedroom flat, but one bedroom was full of computer equipment and loads of files. The living area was all open-plan.

“Sofa’s there, bathroom’s there, good night.”

Tony left her alone, and shut his bedroom door.

She sat on the sofa and took off her jacket and tie, loosening the cummerbund with some relief. Her right shirtsleeve was stained red with at least two glasses of wine that she’s ‘accidentally’ managed to flick down her sleeve to avoid drinking too much.

She went into the bathroom rinsed out the worst of the wine from the sleeve, and washed her face. She was conscious of that strange kind of numbness that alcohol has on the face.

She returned to the sofa, pulled up a tartan travel rug, and fell back, asleep almost immediately. She was still wearing her trousers and soggy shirt.

---

 
To Be Continued...
 

 
 
Peter and Katie Marriott are returning to the UK after a lifetime abroad. The brother and sister are simply acting on their father’s directions. He has a plan, intending to join them a little later, but they have to fulfil certain obligations prior to his return.

Whilst at an airport hotel, the pair become entangled with a shady character who is intent on seizing the assets of a beautiful but somewhat scatty heiress, Letty Greyson. Using quick wits and dubious skills, they manage to rescue the girl and return her to the bosom of her family.

However, the attractive Katie and handsome Peter are not quite what they appear.........

 
 
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

Author's Introduction:
When considerably younger, I read and thoroughly enjoyed the many works of Georgette Heyer. A completely new and colourful world of Regency Romance opened up to me, and I found the whole range of books delightful in the extreme.

One book, The MASQUERADERS, was to become my favourite, dealing with issues with which I could readily identify. It had everything one could want in a book: - Wonderful characters, beautiful women, handsome heroes, nasty villains, duels by moonlight, deception, love and romance, highwaymen, heroic deeds and horse-back rides across open countryside. Good triumphed over evil, and true love prevailed.

It also had a hero who spent most of the book dressed as a beautiful woman, and a heroine who appeared as a man.

I have planned for a long time to modernise the story, using those wonderful characters that Georgette introduced to me then. Now I feel I am in a position to fulfil that ambition, and if this turns out half as good as the original, then I will be well pleased.

I make no apology for lifting the book from the eighteenth century and plonking it into the twenty-first. I am probably breaching all manner of copyright laws, but I state now that although the opening of the story is based on that great book, by the very nature of the world we find ourselves, my story will be different, save some of the names and the fact that it takes part in London. Anyone who has read the original work will be able to see where I am going to end up, but hopefully not the direction I intend to take to get there.

My thanks to those who helped me edit, but mainly my thanks to the late great Georgette Heyer for being such an inspiration.
 
 
Tanya Allan
 
Originally written in 2005, revised in 2008.
 
The Legal Stuff: Modern Masquerade  ©2005, 2008 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 6 - Of Schemes and Schemers
 
 
Rob appeared for breakfast, yet again dressed as Katie in a skirt and warm sweater. He found Theresa still in her dressing gown, reading the paper.

“I see Pru’s door is still closed, what time did she get in?” he asked.

“She never came back. Her bed’s not been slept in,” Theresa said.

“Shit, really?”

“I think perhaps she had too much to drink and ended up sleeping with the big soldier.”

Rob paled visibly under his carefully applied make up.

“Oh God, do you think so?”

“I think she was drunk, yes, but she probably slept on the man’s spare bed,” Theresa said, looking at Rob critically.

“Why the skirt? You don’t have to dress up when you’re in the house.”

“I’m going shopping with Letty.”

Theresa smiled.

“Do I detect the work of cupid?”

Rob poured out his cereal, added the milk and sat down.

“Theresa, I don’t know. Hells bells, you don’t know how bloody confusing my life had been and still is. All I do know is that I feel something for her that I have never felt before, and I adore being with her.”

“Oh thank God, I did so fear you’d prefer being a girl, and end up like that forever!”

Rob smiled, munching through his cornflakes.

“It had crossed my mind,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Last month in Paris, I never told Pru, but I came that close to going to bed with a man. He was a Canadian, of French origins, and was the epitome of charm and goodness. He was a delegate at some conference and Dad saw his influence as positive in some project involving logging and paper mills in Quebec.

“Dad wanted to know his opinion on the current policy of the provincial government, probably because he wanted to know who to bribe. Anyway, I let him wine and dine me, and we even went dancing. I found out what Dad wanted, but was quite pickled, and actually found myself turned on by his advances.

“I claimed to be having my period, but intimated I might consider other activities. I meant it, Theresa, and would have done it too!”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I think he sensed I was not really willing, or maybe he wasn’t used to women. Afterwards, I had a funny feeling he might have been gay and felt obliged to act the manly man. How ironic was that? Imagine his reaction to finding out I was a male too! He seemed very relieved when I told him about my period, and that was it. He sent me some flowers the following day and left town shortly afterwards.”

“How did you feel?”

Rob looked sharply at her and then his face softened.

“If you must know I was disappointed. Shit, I was so mixed up. I really do feel like a girl when dressed like this. I wanted him to fuck me, even though I haven’t the right equipment. Daft, isn’t it?”

“Have you ever?”

“Had sex with a man, you mean? No. I went to a transvestite bar once, with some friends. They all thought I was a girl, and Pru came, as herself. I was dancing and a man pushed in and propositioned me. He was the only person who has ever read me. I was happy dancing with him, and have to confess to have been tempted to go with him, just to see what it was like.”

“And?”

“Pru simply said one word to me, and I didn’t go.”

“The word, what did she say?”

“AIDS.”

“Oh.”

“It never crossed my mind. So although I give the impression of being in control and all that, actually, I am a little fucked up.”

Theresa smiled, reaching out and taking his well-manicured and very feminine hand.

“If you end up as a girl, you could do a whole lot worse. You are so pretty, so you would fit right in with no difficulty at all. I have awful trouble remembering you are really a boy! I imagine Tony will be after you soon in any case. You never know, you could make a lovely bride.”

“God forbid, he’d crush me to death. No thanks, I’ll leave him to Pru, she’s big enough to handle him.”

Rob finished his breakfast, and washed up his bowl. Theresa watched the ‘girl’ as she walked about the kitchen. There was nothing masculine about ‘her’ at all. Rob was a consummate and unconscious actor, capable of being the person he portrayed without actually thinking about it.

“I’m off. I’m meeting Letty at her place in half an hour.”

“Where are you going?”

“Oxford Street. I need a new dress, particularly as there’s the Spring Ball at the Hurlingham Club in ten days.”

“Oh, and just how did you find out about that?”

“Letty mentioned it, and wanted to know whether Peter and I would go in her party.”

“Oh, this is getting too complicated. Your father would be most displeased.”

“He’s not here, Theresa, he’s never around when we need him,” Rob said, slightly bitterly.

“There is an alternative,” she said. Rob frowned.

“What?”

“Well, why not go as a boy for a change. Oh, say you’ll go, and then have a migraine or a really rough period or something. Cry off at the last minute, and go to the ball as yourself. That way, you could perhaps allow Letty to see the real you. Not too much, just enough to excite her.”

“Theresa, you are a darling, why didn’t I think of it?”

“Because, contrary to appearances, you aren’t a woman.”

Rob hesitated, and turning, looked quite disappointed.

“I know. Sometime I really wish I were. I even looked into surgery. It’s expensive, but I think I could do it.”

“Would you really go that far?”

“Before I met Letty, I might have done. But now, Let’s just say, the jury’s out!”

Rob picked up his coat and bag, leaving the house with a spring in his step.
 

*          *          *
 
Pru opened a gummed up eye, and closed it again immediately. She groaned, her head hurt, her mouth tasted like a badger had used her tongue to lick its bottom, and her stomach was churning. She remembered arriving at Tony’s flat, and she remembered pulling the rug over her. The events of the dinner after the main course were hazy. She tried to remember what she’d eaten. The prawns had arrived while she was reasonably sober, but after that, she was unsure.

Bladder pressure determined she had to get up, so she staggered to the bathroom, collapsing with relief onto the toilet, having locked the door first.

Her dinner suit was crumpled and the shirt was ruined. Her sleeve was dry, but hideously stained. She washed her face, rinsing her mouth with some Listerine mouthwash that Tony kept by the basin. After combing her hair, she felt a little more human. Tony’s aftershave sat on the side. She picked it up. AU SAVAGE, she read, smiling at the analogy. Opening the top, she splashed a drop on her hand. Bringing her hand to her nose, she breathed in the scent, feeling mildly intoxicated, as it brought back memories of his closeness on the previous evening. However, guilt returned over her deceit, and she replaced the bottle on the side.

Returning to the sitting room, she found her jacket and put it on, hiding the worst stains. Just after she’d done that, Tony appeared clad only in his jockey shorts. His early morning erection was in evidence, and Pru looked away.

“Morning Peter, shit, that was a good night.”

“Morning. Yes, it was.”

Tony picked up his mail that was lying on the mat inside the front door. He unconsciously stuffed his right hand down the front of his shorts, scratching vigorously.

“Help yourself to coffee and stuff, I’m going to shave,” he said heading for the bathroom.

“Do you want one?” Pru asked as the door closed.

“Yeah, thanks, mate. One sugar and milk.”

Pru smiled and went to the small but very serviceable open plan kitchen area. She was impressed with how clean and tidy it was, wondering whether it actually got any use.

It took her a while to find everything, and she made two coffees. She poured a bowl of cereal and, on opening the milk, sniffed the bottle suspiciously. Not smelling sourness, she splashed some onto the cereal, and sat at the small table.

She looked round the flat, liking what she saw. Firstly, it was neat, and unlike her experience of bachelor pads, it was relatively dust and clutter free. Either he had a cleaner or he was house-proud. She suspected the former.

Secondly, it gave her a flavour of her host. The pictures were of country scenes, a fox hunt here, a pheasant standing in a snowy field over there, and of horses grazing and river craft gently rocking on their moorings.

There were no piles of papers, no dirty clothes on the floor, only a spic and span flat, maintained with almost military cleanliness. She saw in it a man who liked order in his life, and yet was more at home with functionable articles than with decoration. She smiled; he needed a woman in his life. It was at that moment she decided that that woman should be she.

Tony came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Pru simply handed him the mug of coffee, and finished her cereal.

“You found something to eat, well done.”

“I’m used to living in strange places. There is a limit to the places one can hide cornflakes.”

Tony chuckled, sifting through his post.

“No work today?” she asked.

“I work everyday, in different ways. I’ve a meeting with the bank at eleven, so I’ve half an hour. Fancy some lunch afterwards?”

“I’d better get back, Theresa and Katie will be worried about me.”

“Nonsense. I’ll wager that Katie and Letty are off shopping somewhere, and Theresa knows that boys will be boys!”

“I’ll just ring Katie, just to let her know I’m still alive.”

Pru dug her mobile out of her jacket pocket and rang her brother.

“Hi Peter, still alive?” Rob asked; the use or her masculine name telling Pru that he was with someone.

“Katie, I’m still with Tony, just in case you were worrying.”

“I was slightly apprehensive, but if he’d found out, you’d have come home in tears,” Pru now realised that whoever was with her brother was no longer in earshot.

“Not necessarily, I could have done the other,” Pru said smiling at Tony.

“The other? You mean gone to bed with him. How likely is that?”

“From where I’m standing, quite likely.”

“You mean he’s semi-naked and desirable?”

“Something like that. How did you get on?”

“We had fun. The chick-flick was interesting, you’d have liked it, but the company was superb.”

“What are you up to at the moment?”

“I’m shopping with Letty. We’ve been invited to a Spring Ball in a couple of weeks, and I’ve just found out it’s a themed fancy dress do.”

“What’s the theme?”

“Super heroes. You ought to see my Cat Woman outfit; it’s unbelievably sexy. You’ll have to go as Batman. You get to wear a plastic breastplate-like thing. Hide you know what.”

Pru laughed.

“I’ve been asked to have lunch with Tony. So I’ll see you later.”

“Shit girl, you’ll be marrying the sod next.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she said, looking at Tony.

“I’ll catch you later, Letty wants me to check her new underwear.”

“Take care, Katie.”

“I am, and it’s wonderful.”

She switched to phone off.

“Shopping?” asked Tony, without looking up.

“Shopping. You were right.”

“Naturally. So, how about I meet you at Simpson’s for a spot of lunch, at, say, one?”

“Simpsons? On the Strand?”

“Yup, one o’clock should be okay, but if you want I could make it later?”

“No, one’s fine. Thanks. I’d better be going.”

“Well, I’ll get dressed, I have to get to the City pretty damn sharpish. Stay if you want, or let yourself out, and I’ll meet you in Simpsons at one.”

“I will, and thanks for last night, it was fun.”

“Yes, it was. It was good of you to join me. Anyway, I’ll see you later.”

Tony smiled and wandered to his bedroom. Pru let herself out of the flat, making her way to the main road. Aware she was receiving more than one odd glance from passers by, she hailed a cab.

Fifteen minutes later, she arrived back at Elm Park Gardens, much to Theresa’s relief. She spent the next hour telling her of her exploits and her disquiet, as she peeled out of her ruined shirt.

“Don’t you find him attractive?” Theresa asked.

“That’s the problem, I do, far too attractive.”

“Then where’s the problem?”

“Theresa, it may have escaped your notice, but I’m supposed to be a man.”

“Oh, phooie, an incidental.”

Pru, grinning broadly, shook her head and went up to have a nice hot bath.

She was five minutes early at Simpsons. She’d dressed more casually, in a pair of dark grey flannel trousers, black brogues, a tweed sports jacket and a check shirt with an Indian Army tie. Unsure whether to go in and wait or to wait outside; she was dithering on the steps when Tony arrived.

“Hi, just got here?” he asked.

“Yup, was dithering. Didn’t know whether to go in and wait or what,” she said, quite honestly. “I’ve never been to any of these places before, so I feel rather out of my depth.”

Tony smiled sympathetically.

“My fault. I’ve had rather a privileged upbringing, so know all the best places. I, sort of, forget that most people haven’t the same experience as me, so, lets go in, I’m starving!”

It was yet another superb meal, and Pru felt very young and unsophisticated alongside this man. Although only four years older than she, Tony was so confidant and in control, she began to feel slightly in awe of him. He carried himself with similar airs and graces to her father. It was an air of natural superiority and command, yet he wasn’t arrogant of priggish.

He never talked down to the staff, as her father would, instead, he was pleasant and understanding. She could see how he must have been a good army officer, able to inspire his men through coming alongside them and leading by example. A real ‘come on’ rather than a ‘go on’ style of leader.

They chatted about many things. She asked him questions about his family and although he answered, he was unusual in that he turned the tables on her, and she found her sharing far more than she had intended. Most men she’d met were only too happy to talk about themselves. Tony was different, he appeared to be genuinely interested in her, and was a superb listener.

She was careful, never actually telling a lie. She might be living one, but she avoided telling anything that was not true.

“You’ve had a really diverse and unusual life, if I may say so.”

“I suppose I had, but it seemed normal to me at the time.”

“How do you feel about settling down in the UK? I take it that’s why you are here?”

“I rather like the idea of settling down. Katie loves the travelling round, and doesn’t seem to tire of the endless procession of temporary houses and apartments.”

“She’s young and female. She’ll find a good man, and she’ll soon change her mind.”

“Are you offering?” Pru asked, teasing him.

“Tempting, but I think she’d rather to independent for me. She’s very attractive and a charming girl, but somewhat too energetic for my liking.”

Pru looked carefully at him, trying to discern whether he was testing her or teasing. Of either, he gave no sign, appearing quite earnest in his demeanour.

“You seem to have her measure already. So what about me, what have you decided about me?” she asked.

Tony smiled.

“You, dear boy are somewhat of an enigma. One minute, I think I have you pegged, and then you say or do something that throws me completely. I confess that I find you fascinating. No doubt the product of your unique life experience.”

“I like to keep people guessing,” she said with a smile.

Tony nodded his head.

“Well, you’re succeeding.”

When it came time to pay, Pru offered to pay her half. Tony wouldn’t hear of it.

“My pleasure. When you are earning, next week, I’ll let you take me out to celebrate a weeks in employment, okay?”

He agreed, hoping that they’d still be friends in a week. She knew, from bitter experience, that her father’s plans meant that any friends she made were often lost in a matter of days, not weeks.

She returned to the house in Elm Park Gardens feeling very lost indeed. Tony had shaken her to the core, as she found she wanted him so much it almost hurt. She went to her room, stripped off all her male attire, and dressed as the woman she was.

Theresa was very surprised when a very elegant and beautifully made up Prudence joined her for tea, wearing an Italian dress and looking very attractive.

“Oho! Do I detect some of the sophistication of Peter has disappeared?”

“This is me, Theresa. This is who I am and who I want to be. Is it too much to ask?”

“Hopefully, you can be you very soon, my sweet.”

“Oh God! I bloody well hope so,” said Pru, very much the woman.
 

*          *          *
 
Rob and Letty, arm in arm, had visited so many shops that Rob’s head was spinning. They’d lunched on the run, continuing shopping up to nearly five o’clock. Letty was a professional shopper, and seemingly had no thought of expense. Rob, aware that the credit card he had was somewhat limited, was far more careful with what he bought. Carrying about twelve large carrier bags, they decided to call it a day, returning to Letty’s home.

Rob was feeling triumphant, for he knew that at no time did anyone suspect he was anything other than an attractive blonde girl on a shopping spree with a chum. More importantly, Letty hardly let go of his hand or arm all day. He found her such fun that all his worries about his father’s plans evaporated for a while.

Her father was out, or so the butler informed Letty as they arrived in an explosion of bags.

“He will be home late, Miss Letitia, and asks for you not to stay up for him. Will you be dining in, this evening?” he asked.

“Will you stay with me, Katie, just for supper? I hate being on my own.”

“I ought to get back, Theresa and Peter will be worried.”

“Please, we can try on the costumes,” Letty said, pleading.

Thoughts of Letty as Storm from the X-Men excited Rob sufficiently to persuade him.

“Oh, all right, but I don’t want to be late.”

“You won’t be, I promise. Thanks so much!”

Letty hugged Rob. He was finding it very hard to control his urge to do more than simply hug back. He forced himself to break the embrace, and carried the purchases up to Letty’s room. As Letty changed, to give her friend an impromptu fashion show, Rob called his sister.

“Hi Rob, how’s it going?” Pru asked. Rob instantly knew she had dropped being Peter, as her voice was soft and feminine.

“Fine. I’m having dinner with Letty at her place. Her dad’s out so she’s asked me to stay a while.”

“Did you have fun?”

“If watching Letty dress and undress all day can be considered fun, then yes, I have. Pru, my libido can’t take much more of this.”

Pru laughed.

“Then don’t see so much of her,” she advised.

“Pru, there’s very little of her I’ve not seen! We went to this one shop; it sold slinky underwear. I swear, she had nothing on other than a thong, and I had to just sit there and smile. It’s driving me potty!”

“Don’t come to me for sympathy; it’s all your own fault.”

“How did you get on with the yeti?”

“He’s not a yeti, he’s remarkably astute and charming.”

“Oh, touched a nerve, have I? You haven’t, Pru, have you?”

“Haven’t what?”

“Fallen in love, at last?”

Pru was silent. It was the first time that word had been spoken, and she now believed she might well have done.

“Oh my God, you have!” said Rob, in delight.

“Rob, it’s not that simple. He thinks I’m a man.”

“If you keep swooning every time he walks into a room, he’ll soon twig.”

“We have to stick to the plan.”

“Stuff the plan, go to him, girl!”

“I can’t, Daddy was quite clear.”

“Fucking Daddy doesn’t have to put up with all this shit,” Rob said. Pru knew that for all the bluster, even Rob wouldn’t defy their father. For no matter how strange and difficult their tasks had been over the last ten or fifteen years, there had always been good reasons for them, and in the end, it had been to their advantage.

“Don’t be late, we should talk,” Pru said.

“I won’t, I promise.”

He kept his promise, for after a light supper with Letty, he made his excuses and left, returning to Elm Park gardens once more.
 
 
Chapter 7 - Tremaine Industries
 
 
Monday morning saw the Marriotts up early, preparing for their first day at work at Tremaine Tower, in the City of London. Pru was wearing a dark pinstripe suit, a pale blue shirt with white cuffs and collar, a tie from the Punjab Cricket Club, and her black brogues, highly polished.

Rob, on the other hand, looked every inch the sophisticated female executive. Having had a little help, his hair was up, his makeup was exquisite and he looked absolutely stunning in a black pencil skirt, dark stockings, a cream blouse and a gorgeous bolero style jacket with black velvet collar. With an ornate cravat in turquoise at his throat, with matching turquoise earrings, necklace, brooch and ring on his right ring finger. Theresa shook her head, as from the tip of his varnished toenails to the top of his head, he looked the most perfect girl that had ever graced the front of many a fashion magazine.

“Oh dear, you look ravishing, and yet there is something distinctly unfair about it,” she said.

“Why?” asked Rob, as he tried to eat toast without smudging his perfect lips.

“Because there are real girls who would sell their souls to look like you.”

Rob chuckled, giving her a coy look.

“You never know, I might just cross to the light side of the force,” he said.

Pru rolled her eyes. They’d had a quiet weekend, but to her consternation, Rob elected to remain as Katie the whole time, despite Pru relaxing as herself.

They’d spent much of the time talking. Rob admitted he was seriously concerned about his gender identity and his sexuality. Pru expected it, but was at a loss to know what to say.

“I just am so at home as a girl. It’s like it’s become the real me, and the boy has taken second place.”

“You do seem to spend more time as a girl. You don’t have to right now, for example,” she said.

“I know, but Letty could come round, and I can’t afford to be caught on the hop.”

“That’s a crap excuse, and you know it!”

Rob had smiled, but was still serious.

“It’s like if I had the right bits, I’d be happy to go to bed with a man. I just don’t feel I could with my male stuff. I know I’m not gay!”

Pru had smiled.

“What about going to bed with Letty?”

“Yup, I could do that,” he said with a grin.

“If you were a girl?”

He paused.

“I still think I could. Shit, I am gay!”

“No, you’re just fucked up. The sooner we get back to normal, the better.”

“What’s normal, Pru?” he’d asked, his voice that of a young girl.

“Take away the clothes, the make up and the pretence, that’s normal.”

“We’d be a bit cold, wouldn’t we, sis?”

They’d both laughed, but Pru was seriously worried about her brother.

However, now on this Monday morning, the pretence was still holding firm. They arrived at the vast glass and steel edifice, not far from St. Paul’s Cathedral, at eight forty exactly. They walked into the huge reception area together, and Pru noticed that virtually all the male eyes turned and locked in on her little brother.

“Peter and Katherine Marriott to see Jonathon Fletcher,” Pru said to the girl at the desk. She smiled and rang through to the HR Manager.

Jon Fletcher was twenty-eight and going places. He’d been with Tremaine Industries for six years, ever since graduating with his degree in HR and business management. He was five eight, slim and very fit, as he played squash three times a week and soccer every Sunday. He had not had the privileged education of Tony, as he’d worked hard at the comprehensive school in Edmonton, north London, and earned his place at university through that hard work.

With short dark brown hair and quite sharp features, he had a reputation of being ruthlessly ambitious and also slightly predatory with the girls.

He was informed of the arrival of two new people, a brother and sister who’d been recruited in Europe for posts in the legal department and in languages. He asked the receptionist to send them up to the small conference room on his floor, the seventh.

It was his task to welcome them to the company, arrange for any training, and see to their documentation, for tax and pensions, for example.

He left his office, reading their files. There wasn’t much in them, just a note on each from the man in Italy, stating that they were ideally qualified for the posts and the company would be foolish to pass them up.

He was still reading when he entered the conference room. Looking up he almost dropped the folders. For seated in a chair, with the most wonderful legs crossed, was the single most attractive girl he’d ever seen.

Standing behind her was a young man, one hand in his immaculate suit pocket, looking calm and collected.

His eyes returned to the girl. She smiled, and warmth seemed to radiate outwards from her. Jon, feeling his loins stirring, shifted uncomfortably.

“Ah, Peter and Katherine Marriott?” he stammered.

“Katie,” said Rob, his voice all husky and sultry.

“Katie,” he repeated, mesmerised by her crystal blue eyes.

“Please call me Katie, it is less stuffy.”

“Katie,” he said, feeling foolish for repeating it again.

Pru smiled and had to glance away. Rob was going straight for the jugular, or rather the penis. He was at his most outrageous, flirting and showing his very obvious cleavage at every opportunity.

Jon did his best. He welcomed them to the company, arranging for two junior clerks to show them to their new departments after the documentation formalities were complete. However, it had to be said, his mind was not on the job at hand. His one regret was that she was to be working in a department with which he seldom had contact. Only on those rare occasions when he was dealing with persons with no English would he consider calling on their services.

He watched the girl walk away, unable to take his gaze from her wonderful buttocks. He had to go to the lavatory and masturbate, as such was the effect she’d had on him.

“You’re a tart!” Pru hissed at her brother as they entered the lift with two girls instructed to take them to their respective departments.

“He didn’t check the papers,” he whispered back, and Pru had to concede the point. Under normal circumstances, the HR manager would scrupulously check and scrutinise all documentation. Jon had simply transferred all the details without question.

Pru and her guide exited the elevator when it stopped at the twelfth floor, leaving Rob and the other girl to go on upwards. Rob smiled at the girl.

“Have you worked here long?” he asked.

“No Miss, just a few weeks.”

“What’s with this ‘Miss’ shit? My name’s Katie.”

The girl smiled uncertainly.

“I’m Amy Johnson. We’re not meant to call you by your first name.”

“Why not? It’s not the army.”

“Mr Hatton believes that an organisation has to have levels of attainment, and that certain distinctions are necessary to give those below targets to strive for.”

“What utter bollocks, who’s this Hatton character?”

“He’s the senior M D, Miss.”

“Stuff him, I’m Katie, okay Amy?”

Amy smiled, a little broader this time.

“Thanks, Katie. I don’t think you’ll fit in with Mr Hatton’s ideas.”

“Well, if Mr Hatton doesn’t fit in with me, he’ll just have to go!”

The girl laughed this time, ceasing abruptly as the elevator stopped and the door opened. Amy led the way down to a large office with several people working in compartmentalised cubicles.

A larger area at the end had a huge desk and behind the desk sat a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and slight paunch. Ronald McMillan had been headhunted for the company from an independent translators company based in Brussels. Having worked in the business for many years, he recognised a good deal when presented with one. He’d set up the department in just five months, and Katherine Marriott was his latest acquisition.

A mutual business associate in Italy recommended her to him. Georges Lassard, their representative in Paris had arranged a meeting with her and strongly recommended her to him. He’d accepted and offered her a job. It was coincidence, but her brother was offered a job with the legal department, on another recommendation by the original associate.

Amy left with a quick smile at the smart Miss Marriott.

“Miss Marriott, welcome to Tremaine. You come highly recommended,” he said, shaking her finely manicured hand. He was mildly surprised by her firm handshake, somehow doubting that someone as attractive as she was could possibly have any strength.

“Thanks for the welcome. I’m sure I can pay my way.”

Ronald took her to meet the others in the department, and showed her to her compartment.

“These look frightful, but actually you will need the privacy. With all the translation and interpreting we have to do, we do need some privacy.”

“We do interpreting from here?” she asked.

“Oh yes. We have hot lines coming straight in from wherever our chaps and chapesses are. We even have videophones and live web-cams for special jobs. There are three special video conferencing suites, whereby we can sit in on conferences involving as many as they have equipment. We never really need go anywhere.”

“Impressive,” said Rob, actually impressed for a change.

“So, what’s your speciality, apart from looking amazing?” asked Ronald, appreciating this remarkably attractive girl.

“Actually, I specialise in the one to one situation,” ‘Katie’ said, making Ronald feel rather warm all of a sudden.

“Actually, I’m better in the spontaneous interpreting situation, I get rather bored with endless tracts of translation. Give me an unrehearsed job any day.”

They talked techniques and languages for a while, and Ronald was more than impressed with both her attitude and apparent ability. He asked her to listen to a couple of tapes and translate as they ran. She managed French, Italian and Arabic all very easily. When she told him of the languages she could speak fluently, and then those she had a good working knowledge of, he was doubly impressed.

After an hour, she was allowed to settle into her cubicle, arranging whatever equipment she required from the stationary and computer supplies.

Meanwhile, a few floors below her, Peter Marriott was settling into the legal department. His function was to scrutinise legal contracts and other documents with a view to ascertaining company liability and responsibility in each one. He reported to the company lawyers who worked in the same office, but as he specialised in international law, his knowledge seemed to be greater than theirs in certain areas.

They met for lunch in the executive (class three) dining room. Top management were class one, departmental bosses were class two, they were class three, and then there was the canteen for the rest.

“Well, what’s your lot like?” Pru asked.

“Okay. Ronald is my boss, and I think the only one. He’s a big softy, good at organising things, but not frightfully good as a people person. It’s a good department as far as technology goes. I haven’t met many of the others yet. How about you?”

“The lawyers are okay, a bit ignorant about certain aspects of international law, but it’s a new department, so we’re all learning together. I have a free rein and just have to check through documents and pass them on to the lawyers for final approval.”

“Dull, you mean?”

Pru smiled.

“Absolutely, but it’s not as if it’s for very long.”

“I wish we knew what we were doing here, it’s not like him to keep us in the dark for as long as this.”

“Patience, dear girl,” said Pru as a couple of young men approached the table.

“Hi, we understand you’ve just joined the company, so we thought we’d come over and welcome you,” the taller one said to the siblings, although he was only looking at Katie.

‘Katie’ smiled that smile of hers and oozed charm and sex.

“Yup, we started today. I’m Katie and this is my brother Peter. I’m in languages and he’s joined the legal department.”

“I’m Hugh Crossman,” the taller one said. “I’m in marketing.”

“Gary Birch. Logistics.”

They shook hands. Pru had to keep from smiling too much, as the guys were falling over themselves to get close to her brother. ‘Katie’ invited them to sit at their table. They almost fought over the seat next to her.

The lunch break ended, and the men left.

“You really are a dreadful tart!” Pru muttered.

“You’re only jealous,” Rob replied.

“Yes, maybe, but it isn’t natural.”

“Don’t go there, Pru, I’m only too well aware it’s not.”

They returned to their offices, and so began a routine that stretched into the next few days and then weeks. Brother and sister became settled and indeed, were very soon accepted as part of the furniture. In the legal department, Peter Marriott was considered a bit of a wizard in his field, and even the lawyers treated him with respect. So much so that the senior solicitor advised the young man to consider further qualifications to become a solicitor. He even offered him special facilities to study in company time, and to sponsor him through his articles.

Pru, lacking any direction to the contrary, accepted and found herself very busy indeed. The work wasn’t hard, but the exam was a few months away, and she had a lot of ground to cover. The Harvard qualification was genuine, but she lacked experience and knowledge of English law.

Meanwhile, her brother, in the guise of the sexy Katie, was having a ball. Selected by many of the senior management to accompany them on business trips across Europe, he was rarely in the country for more than a few days at a time. Each man attempted to woo Katie and get her to go to bed with them, and each one went away disappointed, but ever hopeful.

‘Katie’ never turned them down flat, she simply postponed their ardour.

At home, he spent most of his free time with Letty. They had grown very close over the weeks, and as the evening for the Spring Ball approached, Letty’s excitement became infectious. She arranged a dinner part at her house for fourteen. It included, of course, Tony Fanshaw and the Marriotts, amongst others. Tony was disinclined to accept, believing that fancy dress parties were a trifle juvenile. However, when he realised that Peter and Katie were going, he changed his mind.

“What costume have you chosen, Pete?” he asked.

“Ah, that’s supposed to be secret.”

“Don’t be an arse, come on, which one?”

“Batman.”

“I have a suggestion.”

“What?”

“Be Robin to my Batman?”

Pru smiled. Any day, she thought.

“Why should I?”

“I wouldn’t make a good Robin, and you’ve more his build.”

“Alright.”

So Tony changed Pru’s plans, and, as it happened, they made a very good pair when they went down to the costume shop. Pru had to admit that Tony made a far better Batman than she ever would.

Tony had been conspicuous by his absence over the weeks since the Marriotts started work. He had to return to his farms and do some work for a change. In fact, he’d not been in touch at all, and Pru was feeling neglected, despite knowing that there was no reason for her to do so.

On the evening of the party, Tony phoned to say he was delayed, and Pru found herself fretting that he wasn’t coming at all.

“Pru, calm down,” said Rob, as he squeezed into his Cat Woman outfit.

“I can’t, I’m confused. It’s as if he knows. Rob, and is testing me.”

“He doesn’t know. Here, do me up, there’s a love.”

Pru laced her brother into the suit. With his hip and bum padding, silicone boobs and tight lacing, he was real competition for Michelle Pfiffer.

“Wow, I hope I don’t have to eat too much, otherwise there will be a serious rending of something, and I hope it’ll be the costume and not me.”

“I can’t believe the way you look. What the hell have you done with your dick?”

“Don’t ask. I don’t think the little sod will ever be the same again!”

“I thought that you might try to go as yourself. I’m pleased you’re being sensible.”

Rob’s smile alerted her to feel disquiet all of a sudden.

“Oh, Rob, what are you planning?”

“When I hired this, I asked how many other Cat Women are going to be there. It seems that I will be one of five or six. So, after the first hour, I’ll sneak away, change into my other costume, and return to win the hand of fair Letty.”

“Oh Rob, you can’t!”

“I can, and must. Pru, if I don’t do this, and do it now, I will be stuck as Katie, and may never want to go back. I need to be me, at least for a while.”

Pru was silent. She agreed wholeheartedly that he needed to break from being female. However, she had serious reservations about doing so in such a public forum.

Rob nodded, seeing her agreement.

“Thanks, Sis, you know I have to do this?”

Pru nodded, giving Rob a hug.

Pru then changed and put on a long overcoat. Rob was wearing thigh length black PVC boots with six-inch stiletto heels. He looked simply gorgeous, and there was no one who would ever dream he was male. Even his cleavage, displayed by the suit to leave little for the imagination, seemed perfectly natural.

His hair, streaming our from under his mask, shone as a luxurious golden ray of sunshine.

“This fucking tail is going to piss me off,” he said, tripping over it for the third time going down the stairs.

Theresa watched them descend to the hall. Her eyes noted Rob’s amazing shape. She arched an eyebrow.

“So, you’ve decided to stay like this?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t. I may, but I have to know for certain.”

Theresa exchanged glances with Pru who shook her head.

“Bugger!” said Rob, dashing upstairs again, or as fast as his heels and tail allowed him to. He returned a few seconds later carrying a holdall.

Pru raised her eyebrows in silent query.

“My alternate costume,” he explained.

“Oh, and which hero are you going as?”

“Ah, that really is a surprise.”

“Your cab is here,” said Theresa. “You two have a lovely time, and don’t do anything too silly.”

“We won’t. At least I don’t intend to,” Pru said, helping Rob put his coat on.
 
 
Chapter 8 - Of Masks and Mystery
 
 
Letty opened the door to them herself.

“Katie! You look fantastic,” she squealed, giving Rob a huge hug and a kiss, making Pru’s eyebrows elevate yet again.

She had a white long wig on, and had darkened her face to look very like Halle Berry in the X-Men movie. The silver contact lenses were the most surreal effect, and her black outfit accentuated her trim little figure.

“Hi Peter,” she said, slightly subdued.

“Hello Letty, is Tony here yet?”

Rob smirked behind his whiskers and mask.

“He called. He’s on his way, but might miss the first course.”

Pru relaxed a little.

Letty led them through to the large drawing room. All bar Tony gathered there, all looking self conscious in their super hero outfits. There was a very tall but rather thin Superman, Green Lantern was by the fire, trying to look casual and relaxed but failing miserably. Wonder Woman was sitting on the sofa, trying not to show she felt she was overexposed. Captain America looked more like Corporal Oxfam, and Pru laughed out loud when she saw one man dressed as Danger Mouse, complete with huge white ears.

“Don’t we all look completely ridiculous?” she said. However, she realised that none of them were listening to her. They were all watching Rob’s entry to the room. He’d taken his coat off, and had adopted that sexy walk again. He had tried not to, but the heels were so high it just seemed to happen. The costume was so tight she was waiting for a ripping noise.

“Hello everyone, don’t we look silly?”

Vigorous male head shook with disagreement. Pru had to admit, her little brother stole the show.

Cocktails were served. Pru was careful with what she drank. She noted with interest that Rob was doing the same. They all went into the dining room and sat round the enormous oval table, capable of seating more than twenty people with ease.

The starters were fresh oysters, which a couple of the party refused. Pru and Rob, having eaten many things that would not strictly be classified as food, ate them with no hesitation.

As the plates were being cleared away, Bat Man appeared, looking faintly jaded.

“Sorry I’m late, minor crisis on the farm,” he said, taking his seat opposite Pru.

“I’m relieved to see you. I didn’t want to be half a double act,” she said.

Tony smiled, taking his mask off.

“God, that thing is hot! Gosh, don’t you all look, look, um, look different.”

The ice was broken, but Pru noted that Tony did more than glance at Rob.

“Well, if I had to judge the best costume here, it would be hard, but I think Cat Woman wins, out of sheer eroticism,” he said.

Rob turned to him and blew him a kiss.

“Meeeow,” he said, flicking his tail and stroking his whiskers.

It was a very good meal, but Pru noticed that Tony drank quite heavily. Not that he was excessive, but certainly wouldn’t be safe to drive.

At a little after ten, the butler announced that the bus had arrived. Pru hadn’t even thought that far ahead, but now saw it as the only logical answer to get them all there at the same time.

The Hurlingham Club was deep in true blue Chelsea, being a large old manor house in superb grounds that was now set-aside for tennis and other gentle pursuits.

The party arrived and started to mingle with the other guests. Letty grabbed her friend Katie and taking her onto the dance floor, ensured that every male saw the exquisite couple right from the start.

Needless to say, neither was without willing partners for long. After forty minutes, ‘Katie’ excused herself to go to the Ladies.

Collecting her bag from where he had hidden it earlier, Rob disappeared across the lawns to a small pavilion by the bowling green.

Taking the Cat Woman suit off was harder than he had anticipated. He was suddenly worried about getting back into it later. However, he succeeded, and using the makeup remover, he wiped Katie away completely, taking off his false black varnished nails using the appropriate remover.
 

*          *          *
 
Letty was standing by the bar with Tony.

“Isn’t this fun?”

“If you say so,” said Tony, looking at the fools cavorting in capes and silly masks.

“Oh, Tony, stop being such a party pooper. Why don’t you go and dance with Katie?”

“Katie is doing fine without me,” he said, disliking being bullied into doing things.

“I think you and she would make a perfect couple.”

“Letty, your choice of men has, up to this point, been completely inappropriate, so please, spare me the marital advice.”

Letty, not taking the slightest offence, grinned and continued.

“She’s very attractive, she’d intelligent, she’s quick and quite a strong person. She’d make you an excellent wife.”

“She’s also fashion conscious, highly hyperactive, career minded, independent and too young for me.”

“So, who else could you marry? You’ve turned nearly everyone else down.”

Tony watched as Pru left the dance floor leading Wonder Woman towards where they were standing.

“I am in no rush, child. The woman I marry will be loyal, attractive without being chocolate-box pretty, dependable, intelligent, physically and emotionally strong. In short, she will be prudence personified.”

This said just as Pru came within earshot, and despite herself she started to blush.

“Hot, young Peter?”

“Just a bit,” she replied, grateful for the excuse.

“I was trying to persuade Tony to dance with Katie. Where is she?” Letty asked.

“I have no idea, I last saw her dancing with Inspector Gadget,” said Pru.

“Then Tony will have to dance with me,” she said.

“My dear girl, I should be delighted to dance with you, when hell freezes over.”

Letty stamped her foot.

“Oh Tony, you can be so boring.”

“Excusez moi, madamoiselle, would you do me the honour of accompanying me onto the floor?” said a new voice.

All turned to see whom it could be.

Standing a little in the shadows, was a slim young man dressed in black. With a tricorn hat, black mask, riding breeches and highly polished riding boots gleaming in the flashing lights. A sword was strapped to his waist, the tip peeping out from under his black frock coat. Blue eyes shone through the holes in the black velvet mast, as if mocking convention. He bowed low, sweeping his hat under him. He had long fair hair, tied back in a small ponytail with a length of black ribbon.

He handed Letty a single white rose.

Letty clapped her hands with delight.

“I’d love to, how wonderful!”

“Excuse me, young fellow, but I thought this was a theme party,” said Tony.

“Sir, you are quite correct. You see me as the latest Super Hero, HIGHWAY-MAN,” he said, bowing his head at Tony.

“Oh, very droll,” said Tony with a chuckle.

“Mademoiselle?” said the unknown, holding his arm for her.

“One moment. I have decided to take the lady for a dance,” said Tony.

Pru held her breath.

The shorter man took a half pace backwards, looking as if he were about to draw the sword.

“Sir, then the lady shall decide. Ma chéri, which shall be your partner?”

Letty’s eyes glinted in the lights. It might only be in Chelsea and not a Castle, but this was what romance was all about. It was no contest, as a few moments later, the unknown led her onto the floor.

Pru came over to Tony.

“Never mind, you can have the next one,” she said.

“Piffle. I can’t stand dancing, I didn’t want the bloody dance, but I just wanted her to feel a bit of competition.”

Pru laughed.

“You are a very strange man.”

“Oh, how so?” asked Tony.

“Sometimes you pretend to be so grown up.”

He laughed.

“Well done, you are more astute than you appear, young Peter.”

“So are you, Tony, so are you.”
 

*          *          *
 
Letty was enjoying the dance. For unlike the others who stood back and gyrated madly, he took her in his arms and waltzed her around with flowing grace.

“This is such fun,” she said.

“It certainly is.”

“Have you danced with many girls tonight?”

“I came to dance with but one, and my ambition is achieved.”

Letty grinned, aware this was so silly, but it made her go all tingly.

“I feel I know you, who are you?” she said.

“Aha, how can you ask that? Where is the romance in discovering your secret admirer’s identity, Letitia?”

Letty frowned, as this was so frustrating. He knew her name, yet she didn’t know who he was.

“Are you?”

“Am I what, ma chéri?"

“Are you my secret admirer?”

“Can you doubt it?”

“You can’t be very secret if I can see you.”

“Ah, but you may see me and never know me. That is my secret.” His eyes laughed at her from behind the mask.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you, and am here to tell you that I shall be watching over you. At the right time, I shall be there for you, and when I come for you, you will come with me.”

There was such certainty in his voice that Letty was captivated.

“How can you love me, you don’t know me?”

“I know you so well, ma chéri, I have loved you for many days, and hope in time you shall come to love me too.”

“I will wait for midnight, when the masks come off. Then I shall know you!”

“I shall not be here. As I said, I came for one dance, and now, I shall say farewell. Remember, I love you.”

The unknown took her hands and kissed them, finally kissing her on the lips.

“How will I know you?” she asked, afraid he was going to go away forever.

He opened his shirt and she saw, lying on his bare chest, a medallion of a Chinese dragon.

“This is the only one of its kind in the world. I will always wear it for you.”

One more kiss and he was gone.

Letty sought out Katie to tell her about the unknown. She found so many Cat Women that she became frustrated. She returned to the bar to find Tony still there.

“Tony, have you seen Katie?”

“Why, should I have done?”

“On Tony, you can be such an arse at times.”

“No, Letty, I haven’t. At least I don’t think I have. A woman in a suit like hers past me going to the loo a few minutes ago.”

Letty grinned. “Where’s Peter? It seems strange not seeing him with you, you’re like Siamese twins these days.”

She didn’t see it, but a slow flush rose in Tony’s face.

“I have no idea, I assumed he was off trying to fight the strange little man for your hand.”

Letty smiled and walked off in search of her friend, Katie. She couldn’t wait to tell her about the mysterious highwayman.

In the pavilion, Pru was lacing Rob back into the suit.

“You are a fool,” she said.

“Yes, dear.”

“A stupid romantic fool.”

“If you say so,” he said, grinning.

“There, not quite as tight as before. Are your boobs okay?”

Rob juggled them about.

“Yeah, I think so. How do I look?”

“Fine. You should have got a less fiddly costume.”

“Now she tells me.”

“Okay, come on, let’s get back before they miss us. Letty will be looking for you, you realise that?”

“Of course.”

Pru smiled.

“Does this mean that the boy is winning?

“Possibly,” he said, grinning again.

“Are the nails on tightly?” she asked.

“They’ll do.”

They tripped across the lawns, keeping into the shadows, entering the house by a side door. Rob grinned as his stiletto heels kept getting stuck in the grass. Tony was still by the bar, talking to an acquaintance. Pru, nodding at her brother, made her way over to his side. Rob took a different path, ending up at the Ladies.

“Ah, Boy Wonder, Letty is after your sister, any idea where she is?”

“She muttered something about the loo, cursing long queues and bloody silly costumes.”

“Ah, that explains it. Enjoying yourself?”

“I suppose so. I have to admit that these aren’t really my cup of tea. It’s fun seeing people making complete cocks of themselves.”

“Us included, dear boy, us too,” said Tony swirling his Bat Cape.

Letty found Katie as she came out of a cubicle in the Ladies.

“Oh, there you are, I’ve been looking for you for ages. You’ll never guess what has just happened.”

Rob smiled and repaired his makeup in the mirror. The quick change had been just about adequate, but there was much to do. The mask did him a favour, but still he was hard pushed to get things back to the way they’d been.

“No, I don’t think I can guess, so tell me.”

Letty was so excited, the words spilled over themselves as they came out in such a rush. She told her friend all about the mysterious swordsman, who had spoken to her in French, and expressed his love for her, even though she didn’t know who he was.

“Sounds a little potty to me. You must have some idea who he is?”

Letty shook her head, her white wig shimmering in the lights.

“I thought it could be Richard Venner, but I saw him snogging with Adele Mitchum. He’s dressed as Banana Man, in any case. His voice was rather like George Kaye, but George is a good three of four inches taller. I really don’t have a clue, isn’t it romantic?”

“If that’s what you want. Personally, I like my men where I can see them,” Rob said, finishing with the lipstick. “Be a love, and tighten up my laces at the back, I just can’t reach.”

Letty helped her friend adjust the costume, unaware she was helping Rob with his deception. Satisfied that the costume and makeup were as good as they could be, Rob and Letty rejoined the party, their arms around each other’s waists. Rob dragged a reluctant Tony onto the floor, and Pru danced with Letty. However, the latter kept looking around in the vain hope of catching a glimpse of her unknown admirer.

Tony wasn’t a natural dancer. Being such a tall man, he was neither graceful nor was he that well coordinated, at least not for dancing. Rob realised he wasn’t enjoying himself, and so took pity on him.

“My corset is killing me, would you mind if we sat this out?” he said.

Tony looked positively delighted, leading his partner gallantly from the floor. Sipping cold drinks, they watched the dancers for a moment.

“What’s Letty in a spin about? She came out with some drivel about a secret admirer.”

“Ah, you were otherwise indisposed, but a strange young man came and spirited her away for a dance claiming undying love for her. Knowing Letty as you do, you’ll understand that it is just the sort of stupidity she goes in for. Now she’s all agog to find out who the chap is.”

“Do you know who he is?”

“I? Good God, no. Only saw him for a moment, and with the costume and mask, haven’t the foggiest.”

“I think it’s quite sweet and romantic.”

“He’s probably a serial rapist, lining up his next victim.”

Rob laughed out of genuine humour. Tony smiled, the smile developing into a grin.

Rue and Letty appeared.

“It’s no good, she’s not with it at all. She keeps looking for her admirer,” Pru remarked.

The music ended, the lights came up and the host stood on the small stage with the DJ. Taking the microphone, he started speaking.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. Midnight is upon us, and it is time to judge the costumes and unmask. The judges have been circulating all evening, surreptitiously, but to give them a better idea, I’d like you all to split into ladies on the left and gents on the right of the hall.”

Letty and Rob went to the left, as the judges circulated amongst everyone.

After a few minutes, they congregated by the host, conferring with each other.

“It has been amazingly hard to select winners, because everyone has put in such tremendous effort, and really we’d love to reward you all. However, we have the winners! For the ladies, from incredibly stiff competition, notwithstanding there were several sharing the same character, it is Cat Woman - The one standing with Batman and Robin, appropriately enough. For the judges decided that the dynamic duo should share the prize for the men. So all three of you, please come up and collect your prizes.”

Letty squealed with delight as her friends walked up to collect their prizes. Pru was aware that Tony was terribly embarrassed under his mask. She had to admit that the man was so big, so well built, that he cut a very dashing and imposing figure. Their costumes were based on the movie costumes and not the TV series of the 1960s.

Rob collected a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, while the men were handed a very nice bottle of champagne. There followed the unmasking, and after that people started drifting away.

Rob and Pru said goodnight to their friends, and caught a cab home. Letty went to bed, but couldn’t sleep because her mind was focussed on her admirer. Tony sat in his armchair, a frown upon his face signifying he was a troubled man. He went to his computer and started searching in the Internet. He was there a long time, but by six in the morning, he went to bed with a small smile on his face.

“Well, well, well, that is very interesting,” he said, as he fell asleep.
 
 
Chapter 9 - Complications
 
 
Rob and Pru went back to work on Monday morning, the excitement of the weekend behind them. Tony went back to his farms, and Letty enrolled on a creative writing course.

On the top floor of Tremaine Tower, Michael Hatton was not a happy man. His office was vast, taking almost a quarter of the entire top floor. What wasn’t glass was wood panelling, and the desk was slightly smaller than an aircraft carrier. Embedded in the desk were essential pieces of information technology, without which he would find running the vast business empire very hard.

He wasn’t a good-looking man, but he exuded an air of power and strength. Almost completely bald, he kept what little hair he had left cropped very short. At fifty-seven, he was overweight and not terribly fit. Preferring to spend his leisure time relaxing with either his wife or his mistress, and rarely undertaking any strenuous exercise.

“What do you mean, you can’t find him?” he asked.

“I’m sorry sir, but the trail went cold in Geneva about four weeks ago,” said the man dressed in a black suit.

“Bloody hell, Ryan, what the hell am I paying you for?”

“Sir, with respect, he was onto us as soon as we picked him up.” Ryan Grover was a private investigator. He’d been a detective with the Metropolitan Police. However, he’d undertaken various covert and wholly unauthorised investigations on behalf of a much younger Mike Hatton, resulting in enormous financial advantage for the latter, and a requirement to resign for Ryan.

Mike had looked after the man, and he continued to produce excellent results until now.

“You didn’t go to Geneva?” Mike asked.

“He knows me, I had my best team onto him. He’s a slippery bastard. I had a man in the Zurich Bank, just in case, and we got lucky. It’s the first sighting in six years. I picked him up in New Zealand, to lose him almost immediately, and rumour has it he was in America a few years ago.”

“What about his bloody kids?”

“Nothing. They weren’t in Geneva with him, that much we do know.”

“Could they be in the country already?”

“No. I’ve a contact with Special Branch, and another with the Immigration service. I have the Tremaine name flagged. If anyone tries to enter the country with that name, I’ll know. All the airline passenger lists are screened.”

“What about false passports, or ferries and the bloody tunnel?”

“That’s always possible. There was a chance they could actually manage to find employment with this company. We’ve acquired the boy’s fingerprints from a house in Adelaide. We’ve checked all male employees in that age bracket against these prints, and nothing.”

Mike stood up from behind his desk and walked over to the window. Without turning round, he continued speaking.

“We made a mistake not taking care of business twenty five years ago.”

“We thought we had.”

“Yes, but we were too fucking slow. He managed to leave the country.”

“He can’t come back, there’s the embezzlement charges to face.”

“Which we generated. He’s had twenty-five bloody years. What the hell’s he been doing in that time?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Shit! Why now of all times? Just as the Tech -American group are offering the best takeover bid I’ve ever seen on a table.”

Ryan wisely kept silent.

“What can he do to us?”

“Not a lot, unless he has any of the documents from the original Tremaine Brothers Ltd. Apart from the original accounts we altered to make it look like he’d stolen the money, there isn’t anything.”

“I still find it had to believe he just walked in and took the fucking things from under our noses,” Mike said, thinking back to those days when he decided to shift power and wealth in his favour. His cousin Robert had inherited the company and most of the stocks and shares. The bloody Tremaines had always had one over on the Hattons, who, being cousins had always been involved in the running of the company, but never at the top.

It had been in the seventies during the recession. Robert had left the UK to try to find new markets and workforces in the Far East. While he was gone, Mike had used Ryan to dig some dirt on a competitor, and managed to frame his cousin for an embezzlement of  £250,000 during the acquisition of said company. When Robert returned he was arrested for the offence and bailed pending further enquiries.

The only evidence that would support Robert’s defence was the company accounts. Mike had provided altered accounts as being the genuine article, intending to dispose of the others as soon as possible. However, inexplicably, as they all thought Robert had breached his bail conditions and fled the company, the accounts went missing from the company safe. The only other person, apart from Mike, who knew the combination, was Robert.

The security officer claim that no one looking like Mr Tremaine had gone anywhere near the safe. The only people who’d been in the building were some office cleaners and some typists.

Mike believed that Robert must have disguised himself, but had no concrete evidence. The alternate explanation was that an office worker, unaware of their importance, accidentally disposed of them. As time went by, Mike was less inclined to believe the former story as he thought that Robert would have been anxious to prove his innocence.

“I have to go to Paris at the weekend. I need to know that we’re safe for the meeting next week with Tech -American.”

“We’re safe. Everyone in the company is screened, and I’m happy I can vouch for all employees. He can’t have anyone on the inside.”

“The only other way he can get to us is through the shareholders. I want you to get a list of all the major shareholders, sort out where they are and they are who they say they are. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to buy up as many shares as he can and open a take-over bid at the next meeting.”

“Yes sir.”

“We should have killed him, you know that?”

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing, sir.”

“Get on, let’s do what we need to do.”
 

*          *          *
 
Graham Goodyer was a barrister. He was a good one, and was attached to the Serious Fraud Office in London. As part of the Home Office, the SFO comprised of lawyers and detectives, as well as accountants and other specialists who were experts in the field of business and commerce. It was in this area that multi-million pound swindles took place on a daily basis, and because the perpetrators were highly connected, professional, respectable men and women; tracing and arresting them was exceptionally difficult.

His first appointment of the day was a Colonel Fabio Metatucci of the Italian Carabinieri. The letter had mentioned something about a British Company that may be responsible for high profile bribes in connection with EU contracts.

The man ushered into his office was almost exactly what Graham had expected. Although not tall, the Italian was very distinguished, with an immaculate suit and expensive shoes. He displayed a pent up energy and an air of command if not patrician arrogance. His hair was greying at the temples and his nose was slightly hooked, in the Roman tradition.

Graham stood up, and offered the man his hand. They shook, and the Italian had a firm dry shake. Graham noticed the man wore a Rolex wristwatch.

“Colonel, I am delighted to meet you, please sit down.”

“Thank you, Mr Goodyer.” The Italian sat, holding a manila folder across his knee.

“Now, how can we help each other, as that was what was in your letter?”

The Colonel smiled and opened the folder. Selecting five sheets of paper, he passed them over to Graham.

“You are familiar with the Tremaine Industries?” he asked, his accent distinct, yet his English was impeccable.

“I am, yes. Are they responsible or suspected?”

“Please, just read.”

Graham did, and started to frown. He read all the documents, and looking up appeared confused.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

The Colonel handed over three more sheets of paper.

Graham took them, and read them carefully.

“I don’t see the connection, Colonel.”

“Mr Goodyer, I have to admit to a small deception. Had I given my real name, you would not have given me your valuable time, and we’d be going through a wearisome procedure involving the boys in blue. You have in your hands the original accounts of Tremaine Brothers Ltd, prior to the acquisition of Stamford and Grant Ltd in 1979. There is also the itinerary and hotel bills showing clearly that at the time of the alleged offence I, Robert Tremaine was not in the country, and had neither the means, motive or opportunity to undertake such that is alleged against me.

“Secondly, I have here a set of photographs, taken by a trusted colleague of mine, showing my cousin Michael Hatton and another man, Ryan Grover whom, I believe, at the time was a Detective in the Metropolitan Police. The first photograph clearly shows Hatton passing an envelope to Grover. The second shows Grover opening the envelope, and one can just see that the contents appear to be a substantial amount of money. The third photograph shows Grover handing over some documents, which I believe are the private accounts of Stamford and Grant, having been removed during a burglary in September 1979.”

Graham looked at his visitor, unaware of how best to proceed. Before he attempted to try, Robert pressed on.

“I have obtained, at some personal cost to myself, an itemised account from a Swiss bank. It is a numbered account, but I can link it directly to Michael Hatton, by these hotel receipts, these photographs and this statement from Karl Schroeder, an account manager at the Banque du Basle. One can see that the exact amount that I am accused of removing from my own company, were paid into this account in January 1980.”

Robert sat back and folded his arms.

Graham read through the papers once more.

“Why did you breach your bail, if you believed you’d been framed?”

“One, no one believed me, they’d done a first class job on me. Two, I needed to be free to obtain my evidence. Three, I couldn’t trust anyone, as there was already one Detective Inspector taking money from Hatton, so who else?”

“Where have you been, since leaving the country?”

“All over, old boy. The question should be, where haven’t I been?”

“Your wife and child were with you, are they still abroad?”

“Sadly, my wife died in South America, shortly after giving birth to my son. Both my children are now adults and their location is no business of yours.”

“I need to bring someone else in on this one,” Graham said, picking up the phone.

“No problem, old chap. I’m not going anywhere.”
 

*          *          *
 
Howard Markham was not giving up that easily. It was several weeks since he’d been kept in police custody for twelve hours, but eventually bailed for the officers to make some further enquiries. It seems that the person reporting the card missing was unobtainable, and it looked like the card had been issued to someone whose details were not verified. He returned to his Chigwell home that he shared with his seventy year old mother.

It was the only real asset his father had left, his house that is, not his wife. The business had gone, as had all the investments, during the stock market crash in the late eighties. The only other item, which was almost an asset, that Howard had left, was the letter written by Sir Charles Greyson. It related to certain product reports pertaining to the pharmaceutical industry, just prior to the launch of an AIDS medication. The shares shot up on launch, to crash back as soon as the medication was deemed to have potentially dangerous side effects.

Sir Charles, armed with the details in the reports, stood to gain a great deal if shares had been bought and sold at key moments. Howard did not actually know whether Sir Charles took that opportunity, and was banking on the fact that the regulators wouldn’t care, the fact the information reached the public domain when it shouldn’t have would be sufficient.

Howard was also a coward. He wasn’t prepared to face Sir Charles, but Letty was a different matter. The scatty girl had no knowledge as to whether the letter was a threat or not, but could be frightened into doing what he told her. He’d deliberately kept his head down for a couple of weeks, and when the letter from the police arrived, releasing him from the bail and telling him there was no further action being taken in respect of the credit card, he decided it was time to act.

He sat and watched the house every morning for several days. Letty went out at eight, returning at about six. She carried a bag containing books, so Howard surmised that she was attending college. He was tempted to follow her, but knew that if she saw him, she’d probably run scared and do something silly. He needed to bide his time.

On the Thursday, he waited for Sir Charles to leave the house, and then rang the front door bell. The butler answered.

“Sir?”

“Hello, is Letty at home?”

“No, sir.”

“Damn! I so wanted to get these articles to her,” he said, holding up a folder containing blank pages of A4 paper.

“She will be home at six this evening, you may leave them if you wish.”

“I hoped to get them to her this morning. She told me she needed them at college.”

“She’s at the Covent Garden College, I’m sure you could drop them off at the reception.”

“Thank you.”

Howard returned to his car, sitting, carefully planning how he would do this. She had to go with him willingly, and once he was married to her, the millions she was due would fall neatly into his hands. He knew there was much that would go wrong, but he was determined to make sure that nothing did.

Driving through the busy London streets, he managed to find the college, and sat up outside.

If he approached her, she’d make a scene and that would be counter-productive. He had to persuade her to meet him, and somewhere that he could have control if she did become difficult. The only way she’d meet him would be if she thought he was willing to part with the letter and let bygones be bygones. There was a time when he knew she fancied him, perhaps he could convince her that he was actually a decent bloke and wasn’t as bad as she thought. He cured his temper, for if only he’d kept his cool and allowed her to have her second thoughts, he might still have had a chance.

As he watched the students coming and going, he realised that there was no way she’d go with him willingly. He was not going to be able to marry her, so there had to be another answer.

Kidnap.

He could take her and use the letter to keep her quiet. He’d set up a phoney kidnap and then pretend to rescue her. She’d say nothing, he’d be a hero. Her father would be delighted and reward him handsomely. A fiendish plan took shape in his mind. He needed to make some preparations, so he drove quietly away just before Letty walked within feet of where he’d just been parked.
 

*          *          *
 
Rob was working on his least favourite type of work, translating a contract full of legal jargon from Arabic into English. He was tucked away in his cubicle, oblivious of everything that was going on around him. As Katie, he had developed a character of a distant but generally sweet girl, who was not interested in romantic entanglements with anyone.

After rebuffing the office Romeos, he was subtly approached by a pleasant young woman called Sheena who worked in HR. Rob had been standing at the photocopier; waiting for it to complete a complex task he had programmed it to do.

“Hi, you’re Katie Marriott, aren’t you?” she said.

“Yup, guilty.”

“I’m Sheena, I work in HR.”

“I know, I saw you in there on our first day.”

“Oh, you remembered me?”

“I try to remember everyone, just in case.”

“How are you settling in?”

“Fine, it’s okay really. I just wish the fellas would understand what no means.”

“They’re a pain, aren’t they?” Sheena asked.

“Not so much a pain, more just plain boring. Just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m available.”

Rob was getting impatient with the copier, but understood the first rule of copiers, - leave me and I’ll eat your paper and screw everything up.

“You started with your brother, didn’t you?”

“Yes, he’s in the legal department.”

“I know. I had lunch with him yesterday.”

“Oh yes?” Rob was surprised.

Sheena laughed.

“It’s not what you think, it was the only free table, so we shared. He’s very nice.”

“Yes, I think so.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m forward or nosey, but have you anyone at the moment?”

“Me? Not really, why?”

“I just saw you being pestered by our Jon boy. He really fancies you, were you aware of that?”

“I’d have to be blind and stupid not to. He keeps buying me things, it’s so embarrassing.”

“You don’t like him, then?”

Rob smiled.

“Let’s just say, he’s not my type, okay?”

Sheena seemed to be struggling with something, and Rob started to understand where she was going.

“So, what is your type?” she finally asked.

Rob collected the sheets of paper that had now been sorted, and started putting them in order.

“I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. I think I’ve yet to find him.”

“Are you sure it may not be a her?”

Cards on the table, Sheena looked expectantly at Rob, believing him to be another girl. This was so complex that Rob started to laugh. Here he was, a male, dressed and pretending to be a girl. He fancied another girl who didn’t know he was a boy, but had met him as a boy and didn’t know he was a girl, or not. Then here was a girl, who was a lesbian, who also fancied him, believing he was a girl too.

“Sheena, she might be a girl, hell I don’t know. I promise, if I get a feeling it’s you, I’ll let you know.”

“We could go out for a drink and a meal, just to find out?” she asked, hopefully.

Rob looked at her. With what he had between his legs, she’d run a mile. Once this was over, one way or another he was staying as just one gender for the rest of his bloody life.

“Maybe, let’s see what happens, in a week or two. Okay?”

Keeping to his policy of never shutting any door, he watched Sheena leave with a smile on her face. Why did everyone he met end up fancying him?

Ever since then, Sheena would seek him out and joined him for lunch. However, he was now stuck in this Arabic contract, so sex was a long way from his mind.

“Katie?”

He looked up. It was the MD’s PA, Madeline Green.

“Yes?”

“Mr Hatton wants to know if you’re free this weekend.”

“This weekend? Yes, I think so. I was going shopping with a friend, but I can do that any time. Why?”

“He has a conference in Paris. He needs someone fluent in French German and Italian, so your name immediately came up. Could you accompany him?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Excellent, here’s your ticket. You leave from Heathrow on Friday at two twenty, and return on Monday at noon. Here’s his itinerary, and I’ll give you a copy of his notes before you go. You’ll be staying at the Hotel Splendide in the centre of Paris.”

“Aren’t you going?”

“No, I’ve a wedding to go to. Besides, I’m sure you can cope.”

“Right, what sort of clothes do I need?”

“What you normally wear will be fine.”

“Right, thanks.”

Madeline smiled and left him alone with his Arabic. Friday was only two days away. Still, he was so used to being Katie now, he almost felt he was her.

He finished his translation and took it to the legal department. Pru was in her office, pouring over some documents, making marks in the margin with a red pen.

“Hello stranger,” he said.

“Hi Katie, what’s up?” Pru answered, just as a colleague walked past the open door.

“I’ve just brought this back, do you want it or what?”

Pru looked at the translation work.

“Yup, that for me, leave it there and I’ll sort it in a minute.”

“I’m off to Paris with the boss on Friday,” Rob said.

“Lucky you, I hope he can keep his hands to himself.”

“I’ll be all right. He’s married.”

“I hear he’s a mistress as well.”

“Then he’ll be too knackered to chase after me.”

“Talking about chasing after you, has Sheena from HR spoken to you yet?”

“Sheena, the ‘I’d like to go to bed with you’ girl?”

“She has. What happened?”

“Nothing, what do you expect?”

“I wondered how you handled it, that’s all.”

“I let her believe there’s always a chance, as I do with all of them. I hear she had lunch with you. Did she twig?”

“No, at least I don’t think so. This is getting very complicated, I hope the old man comes soon and puts an end to everything.”

Rob examined one of his nails.

“Fuck, the varnish is chipped.”

Pru smiled, but it was a sad smile. She recognised that Rob was probably more girl than boy now.

“Well, I hope Paris is fun. It should be nice as the weather is warming up a bit.”

“It should be. I might get some shopping done, but I doubt it. I’ll see you later.”

He returned to his office and found he had nothing left to do. He popped his head around his boss’s door.

“Ronald, if there is nothing else for me, I’d like to go and sort out some stuff for Friday. Mr Hatton wants to take me to Paris for a conference.”

“Katie, I know, his PA has just sent me a memo. Are you okay with this, it is rather short notice?”

“Fine, I just need to rearrange and reschedule some things.”

“Take the rest of the day, and tomorrow if you want.”

Rob smiled sweetly, enjoying watching Ronald blush.

“You’re a darling, thanks,” he said, leaving him alone.
 
 
Chapter 10 - Family Re-united and Into Action
 
 
Rob got the tube home, deciding to drop in on Letty. He got off the tube and was half way to her house when he remembered she was in college. He was on the point of turning round when he glanced at a white Ford Transit van driving slowly up the road. He got a view of the driver who wasn’t looking at him. It was Howard Markham.

His blood ran slightly cold, for the man was staring directly at her house, so Rob knew that he was not there for his health.

In all the excitement of the role, the socialising and the new jobs, they’d forgotten about Mr Markham, and that had obviously been a mistake. He returned to the relative safety of the tube station and called Letty on her mobile. She didn’t answer. He called her home. The butler answered.

“James, it’s Katie Marriott, what time is Letty due home?”

“Being Wednesday, half past four, probably.”

“Thanks, can you tell her I called. I won’t be able to go shopping with her on Saturday, I have to go to Paris with my Boss.”

“I’m sure that’ll be very hard for you, Miss.”

“James, your sarcasm is still quite obvious, you know?”

James chuckled. He and ‘Katie’ had built up a rapport and there was a good deal of mutual respect between them.

“Thank you, Miss, I like to be appreciated.”

Rob hung up, still chuckling. Then he made his way home. He dashed in and went straight up to his room. He heard Theresa calling him, so, returning onto the landing, he looked down.

He stared straight into his father’s eyes.

“Dad, fuck me, what a surprise!”

“I see your language hasn’t improved, young man. Come down and say hello nicely.”

He returned downstairs, and his father watched as the elegant young woman walked towards him. Casting inhibitions aside, the two embraced.

Robert had spent the last two hours talking with his old friend and one time lover, Theresa. He was aware of the gender confusions that Rob and Pru faced, Rob in particular, and he felt responsible and a fair amount of guilt.

They went into the sitting room.

“I need to explain to you why this is necessary,” he said to Rob.

An hour later, Rob sat there shaking his head.

“So, we’re on the last leg now?” he asked his father.

“Yes, I hope so, at any rate.”

“Good, because I really need to make up my mind about who I am.”

“I understand that, and will respect whatever decision you make. I’d obviously prefer it if you should choose to remain male, but I can see that you may have gone beyond the point of no return. Rob, I have no right to force you to do anything, and, although these deceptions were my way of protecting you, I feel I have done enough harm.”

He gazed at his son, who looked such a vision of feminine loveliness that he now regretted some of his decisions.

“Dad, we went along with this because it was fun. I’ve had a ball, and I know Pru has. But, we’ve had enough, and want to live for ourselves for a change. I need to know who and what I really am, and I need time and space to do that. I don’t have much of either, as I have to go to Paris the day after tomorrow with your cousin Mike Hatton, and the girl I think I’m in love with is under threat from a blackmailer.”

“Tell me about this girl,” his father said, and so Rob did.

“Go to her. Sir Charles Greyson, you say?”

“That’s right, do you know him?”

“I might. Go my boy; she needs you. My car is outside, take it.”

Rob returned to his room, stripping away Katie and became Rob once more. Dressing in black SWAT style combat trousers and jacket, with a pair of Magnum boots, he looked more like an SAS soldier than anything else. He put a black balaclava into his pocket along with his mobile phone.

He ran downstairs and out into the street, where he looked for a car the keys his father gave him would fit.

A black Audi TT sat in a parking bay, and when he pressed the remote, the door locks opened and indicators flashed briefly. He grinned, typically father, he always did things in style.

It took him minutes to get to Letty’s house. The white van was nowhere to be seen, so he drove to the college. He had about fifteen minutes before she was due to come out of class.

He managed to reach the college, and to his dismay he saw the van already leaving, making off at some speed in the opposite direction. It passed him, and he saw Markham’s face pale behind the wheel. He was looking grimly determined, and as he passed, Rob saw his lips move, as if he was saying or shouting something to someone in the rear of the vehicle.

Rob spun the car round, and followed. He pressed the hot key on his phone and got Pru.

“Pru, Letty’s been kidnapped by that sod Markham.”

“What?”

“I saw Markham driving past Letty’s house in a van, but Dad was at home and I couldn’t get out fast enough. I managed to get to the college, but it seems that Markham has already snatched her. In case I’m wrong, can you ring the college and see if she’s still there. I’m approaching the Aldwych, he’d heading to the City and the East End.”

“Do you want me to call the police?”

“And say what? No. Not yet anyway. Remember the letter? I think he’s using that as a lever, so she would tell the police nothing is wrong, as she is afraid her father may face prison for whatever is in the letter.”

“Oh. You said Dad is at home, is he still there?”

“Yes. Or he was when I left. I have his car, so I think he’ll still be there.”

“How is he?”

“Pru, he’s fine, but let’s talk about him later, okay?”

“Sorry, I’ll ring the college and then him. If she’s okay, I’ll call you back. If you don’t hear from me, then it must be her in the van.”

“Right.”

Rob put the phone down. He just realised that any driving licence he had was in the name of Katie Marriott. He was uninsured, unlicensed and using a mobile phone. The last thing he needed was to be stopped by the police.

Howard Markham was not a happy man. He wasn’t exactly regretting his decision to snatch Letty from outside the college, but he couldn’t face much more of her screaming.

He’d parked the van round the corner, and waited for her by the main entrance. When she’d appeared, he had approached and simply opened the conversation.

“Letty, I’m here to apologise to you for what I did a few weeks ago. I also want to show my good faith by giving you the letter, so you can destroy it or do what the hell you want with it.”

She had stared at him, her books clutched across her stomach.

“All right, give it to me,” she said, not trusting him at all.

“It’s in the car.”

“Get it. I’ll wait here.”

“Okay, you can come with me, it’ll be quicker that way. I won’t bite, you know.”

Reluctantly, she followed, and on arriving at the van, she started to frown.

“You said it was a car.”

“Car, van who cares. Let me get it for you.”

He opened the van and taken a plain piece of paper from the seat.

He opened the passenger door from the inside.

“Here, get in, take a look if you don’t believe me.”

She got in and took the paper. Only when she registered that it was plain did she feel fearful.

“What’s going on? I told you, I won’t marry you!”

“I realise that. So, I just thought I’d sell the paper to the highest bidder, or else daddy can pay what it’s worth.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“Not the way I’m doing it. You see, your father is receiving a message that you’ve been kidnapped. If the police get told, then he thinks the kidnapper will kill you.”

“You mean you will?”

“No, you’ve got me all wrong. I’m going to be the one that rescues you, and gets the reward. Any whispers about the truth, and then I’ll use the letter, do you understand?”

Letty did. She was very angry and also afraid.

“You bastard, let me go!” she screamed at him.

He slapped her hard, and she fell silent.

“Now get in the back and shut the fuck up!” he commanded.

He had to ‘help’ her into the back, securing her arms with some rope he’d attached to the inside wall bulkhead of the van.

“Now shut up and this will all go smoothly. I don’t want to have to start mutilating you, but if you don’t keep quiet, an ear here or a finger there might have to happen.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me, bitch!”

Howard returned to the front and started to drive off, just as a black Audi TT came down the road.
 

*          *          *
 
Sir Charles received a letter by private courier.

It said:
 
 

WE HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER…       WE WANT  £1,000,000 IN USED NOTES…       NO POLICE…       IF YOU CALL THE POLICE, SHE DIES…       PAINFULLY.       YOU WILL BE CONTACTED AGAIN IN A       COUPLE OF HOURS.       IF YOU DON’T HAVE THE MONEY, SHE       LOSES A LIMB.

 
 
He started to shake. All his fears were realised, and he felt afraid for his precious daughter.

“Sir, a Gentleman has called. He wouldn’t give his name, but says it’s about Letitia.”

“Put him through, James.”

The phone rang and Sir Charles picked it up after the first ring.

“Greyson,” he snapped.

“Ah, splendid. I didn’t give my name to your man, but it’s Tremaine, Robert Tremaine, we met some time ago, but you probably don’t recall.”

Sir Charles was confused.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was about my daughter.”

“It is, dear chap, and I am the bearer of good news. It seems the villain of this piece is one Howard Markham, whom I believe you may know.”

“My God, he’s kidnapped Letty?”

“It appears so. You see, he is at this moment driving her eastwards through the City of London. I don’t know the details, as my, ah, my source was not really certain either. The fortunate circumstances that I can divulge, is that I have a trusted operative following Markham, and he will endeavour to free her at the first opportunity. I see no reason to involve the police at this time. Has he been in touch yet?”

“I have a note. He wants a million.”

“What a nasty fellow. He must know that kidnappings seldom work. I wonder what his real game is!”

“How did you come to have your man near my daughter?”

“Pure chance, old boy. My, ah, operative, happened to recognise Markham, and as it was outside your daughter’s college, put two and two together.”

“He must be very efficient.”

“My dear chap, he is without doubt the best.”

“So what happens now?”

“Nothing. If you hear from him, then go along with him as if you are going to pay him, and pretend you don’t know who he is.”

“How will I know what’s going on?”

“I shall send another operative over to your house to keep in constant touch with both me and the man on the ground.”

“Robert Tremaine, you said?”

“That’s right.”

“Not the one who had to leave the country some time ago?”

“The same, but I’m back, and I am no longer a fugitive from the law. On the contrary, I am now working with the authorities on several matters of mutual interest. But this is irrelevant, I have to go and I will send someone over.”

Sir Charles was holding a dead phone. He replaced the receiver.
 

*          *          *
 
Pru arrived home, having established that Letty wasn’t at college, and spoke to her father, alerting him to what had happened. Robert was waiting for her.

After giving her a hug, he brought her up to speed on his plans. Then with what had transpired between he and Sir Charles.

“You must go over to his house and take control,” Robert said.

“I can’t, daddy, he knows me.”

“No, he knows Peter Marriott. He doesn’t know Prudence Tremaine.”

Pru had never used her own first name in all the years she’d followed her father around the world.

“Am I to believe that that’s my real name?”

“It is.”

“So, us working for Tremaine Industries is no coincidence?”

“Indeed not!”

“I won’t ask. So, I can be Prudence, from now on?”

“No, just for a short while. I need to reassure Sir Charles that we Tremaines are trustworthy.”

Pru went upstairs, shaking her head.

She gratefully stripped away her binding from her chest, luxuriating in feeling free again. Then she changed into a smart skirt and jacket, with stockings and heels. She looked the efficient young female executive, and her short hair, with some gel and imagination looked very chic when she had finished doing her makeup.
 

*          *          *
 
James opened the door after the bell sounded.

A tall and attractive young woman holding a large briefcase stood there. She was faintly familiar.

“Hello, I’m Prudence Tremaine. I’m expected.”

“Come in Miss Tremaine, Sir Charles is in his study.”

Pru followed the butler across the hall; smiling as it was her heels that echoed on the floor this time, instead of her brothers.

“Sir Charles, a Miss Tremaine to see you.”

Sir Charles looked at the tall girl. She exuded confidence, power and efficiency. She was very attractive, not pretty, as she was too substantial to be pretty. Even though she wasn’t in any way fat, she was just a big girl who had a lovely smile. He too felt that there was something vaguely familiar about her, but Sir Charles couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Hello, Sir Charles, my father has explained the situation. Our operative is in touch with me by phone, so we know exactly where they are. Has anyone contacted you yet?”

“No, but if he’s alone, he won’t, will he? Not for a bit anyway.”

“If he has a mobile phone, he might. The chances are he’ll use a pay phone. I need you to portray the frightened father, and just go along with him. If he leaves Letty for any length of time, then our chap will go in and get her out. We just wait.”

“You’ve done this sort of thing before?”

“Loads of times,” she lied and smiled reassuringly at him. She took out the tape recorder and attached it to the telephone.

“It must be an exciting life, being in the security industry?”

She looked at him.

“Yes, it is sometimes. Most of the time it’s like any other job,” she said.

The butler appeared with a pot of tea and two cups.

“I thought you and the young lady could do with some tea, sir.”

“Good man, James. Thanks.”

They’d just started sipping the tea when the phone rang.
 

*          *          *
 
Rob watched as the van reversed into the lockup under the railway arches in Leytonstone. Markham appeared, locking the substantial doors before walking briskly down the road.

Rob guessed there was a pay phone not far away, so he had a few minutes to try to get Letty out.

He approached the lockup cautiously, as he wasn’t certain that Markham wasn’t alone. Although the large wooden doors were substantial and in good order, the weakest point was the lock. It was a single Yale padlock, looking small and puny attached to the large metal bracket. Rob smiled, taking out a small leather wallet from one of his numerous pouches. Selecting a slim fillet of metal, with a few jiggles, the lock clicked open. He moved quietly inside, closing the door, and pulling the balaclava over his head as he did so.

The lockup was quite small, with only enough room to park six cars - two abreast and three deep. There was an old shell of what had once been a Ford Granada and the white van. The van was unlocked, so he opened the rear doors.

Letty was lying on the floor of the van, her hands tied firmly to the van itself. She’d tried everything to undo them, but had tightened the knots in the process. There was a blindfold over her eyes and a length of duct tape over her mouth, sealing off her screams. She was feeling about as miserable as she could, and vague thoughts of her unknown admirer flitted in and out of her brain.

“How could I be so stupid?” she asked herself. “These things don’t happen today. I….” Then she heard the doors open. He hadn’t been long, the bastard.

It wasn’t Markham, for he spoke, and Letty experienced a strange thrill.

“Letty, I’m going to take off the blindfold and gag. Don’t scream or do anything silly. Everything is all right now,” the voice said.

She’d recognise that voice anywhere. It was her unknown.

The duct tape came off first, and she felt two lips press against hers for a brief moment. Then the blindfold came off, and she blinked as even the dim light startled her for a moment.

Her admirer was working on the ropes tying her hands. He was dressed from head to foot in black, looking like a secret agent. He had a balaclava over his head, his two eyes twinkling at her through the holes.

Soon she was free and rubbing the feeling back into her hands and wrists. They hurt, so he took her hands and gently massaged them.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here. He won’t be long.”

As they headed towards the doors, they started to open.
 

*          *          *
 
Markham was pleased. Old man Greyson was as pliable as anything, and claimed to have the money ready. But Howard was no fool. He knew that a kidnapper with a million pounds had a limited selection of countries in which to reside. However, as a gallant hero, who had rescued the unfortunate girl from a fate worse than death, only notoriety and wealth would fellow. He could live in this country, and may even be invited to go on Big Brother.

He should have this wrapped up within a couple of days, return the girl to her family, and reap the rewards. He was whistling as he approached the doors. He stopped as soon as he noticed that the padlock was missing.

He felt that icy finger of fear, similar to that he experienced when the police arrived at his hotel room at Heathrow.

“Not this time,” he said, pulling the gun from his pocket. It was an elderly Smith and Wesson .38. His father had acquired it quite illegally many years ago, for personal protection. When all handguns were made illegal in Britain, the gun was lying forgotten in the attic. Howard only discovered it quite recently while looking for anything of value to sell.

Never having had any training or practice with the weapon, he made all the classic mistakes that one sees actors doing when portraying supposed firearms specialists and professionals. The first mistake is to walk into an enclosed space without checking as much as you can first from the doorway. Quick glances, from different places around the door, to see whether your enemy is visible, armed and where they are.

The second is not pointing the gun where you are looking. The gun was actually pointing at the floor as he walked in looking all around him. He noted the rear doors of the van were open, so made another mistake in assuming the girl had got out somehow. His next mistake was not checking the van.

Letty was hiding behind a workbench. He saw her and pointed the gun at her.

“Out you come, you silly cow!”

He walked past the open back door of the van, and never saw the wrench as it hit his right wrist.

He dropped the gun, and swung to face this new threat. A shadow in black launched himself at him, raining blow after blow at him, driving him back against the hulk of the Ford behind. Howard was a big man, and had boxed quite effectively in his youth. He managed to connect a left hook on the smaller man in black, knocking him to the ground. He looked for the gun, seeing it at the back of the van. Letty also saw it and got to it first.

She picked it up with trembling hands, pointing it at them both. The other man stood up.

“Take the gun and get out, Letty, run!” he said.

“I can’t leave you,” she said.

“Just go, I’ll be fine.”

Howard roared in anger and rushed at the man in black. Somehow, the man wasn’t where he had been standing, but he managed to grab Howard’s right arm, and swing him into the rear door of the van.

Stunned and in pain, Howard turned to face the man.

“You little shit! Why can’t people mind their own fucking business?”

“Ah, Mr Markham, this is my business, for you have seriously wronged the woman I love and intend to marry.”

The voice was strangely calm and almost familiar. Letty felt that she knew the voice, but couldn’t work out to whom it belonged.

Howard picked up a length of steep pipe.

“Come on you little runt, come and fucking take me, if you’re so fucking brave.”

The man adopted a martial art stance, and waved him on with both hands. Howard approached cautiously, keeping half an eye on the girl. At the last moment, he lunged to the left, grabbing the girl and the gun. Seizing the gun from her, he turned it on the man and pulled the trigger.

The man wasn’t there.

He started to pull Letty towards him, while trying to point the gun at the man. The foot came out of nowhere, connecting to his hand, sending the gun spinning over the old wreck, to land with a thud somewhere at the very back of the lockup.

A fist followed, and Howard went down. He started to get up when another fist to the side of his head made all the lights go out. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Rob stood over him, ready to punch him again. He allowed his breathing to return to normal, smiling gently. His time in the Far East had not been wasted, as a black belt in Karate, he had never really had to use it in anger before.

Letty was at his side, trying to hand him the gun, which she had retrieved.

“That was wonderful,” she gushed.

Taking the gun from her, he opened it, looking at the five live rounds and one spent cartridge in the cylinder. Then taking out his phone, he spoke briefly.

“It’s done. All safe, Markham is unconscious, call the police. The sod had a gun. One shot fired, so the police may well be on way already. I’ll wait for them to almost get here, then I’ll bugger off. The story we agreed, okay?”

Then he turned and took Letty in his arms.
 

*          *          *
 
Pru ended her call on the mobile, picking up Sir Charles Greyson’s phone.

“Your daughter is safe and well, and our man has rendered Markham unconscious. Please dial 999, and ask for the police. Tell them that your daughter has contacted you, she managed to escape from her kidnapper, and an unknown member of the public, hearing her cries, helped by knocking out the man responsible. This is where she is,” she said, passing over a piece of paper.

“I can’t believe your man doesn’t want to make himself known.”

“Let’s say he has an advantage in anonymity.”

“Oh, I understand.”

Sir Charles dialled 999.
 

*          *          *
 
Rob tied up Markham tightly. Letty sat on the back of the open van watching her unknown as he checked through Markham’s pockets. Taking out a sheet of paper, he looked at it and smiled.

He tucked it away in one of his pockets.

“Is that the bloody letter?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t I have it?”

“When the police get here, they may find it and ask all manner of questions. It’ll be best that you say nothing about it. It will give me an opportunity to meet your father when I can ask for your hand in marriage.”

Letty grinned from ear to ear.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” she asked.

“Letty, at the moment, I am nobody. Soon, I hope to be someone. Then, and only then will I come and take you away. You will come, won’t you?”

“I’ll come with you now, if you but ask!”

Rob smiled.

“No. There are still matters to complete. The time will come. I promise.”

The wail of sirens could be heard, so he rolled up his balaclava past his lips, so he could kiss her.

“Remember, a stranger came to your help and had the fight with Markham. He tied him up and left.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

He smiled. His mouth was strangely familiar too. Oh, it was so frustrating.

“I do know you, don’t I?” she said.

“Letty, I can’t lie to you. You do.”

“Oh, tell me who you are, please.”

“I will, when the time is right, and then I’ll propose. I hope you can forgive me.”

Then he was gone.

The police were sceptical at first, but when she showed them the gun, and pointed out the bullet hole in the wall, they took her seriously. Howard came round, struggled a bit, and then gave up. He started to sob.

A lady detective called Beverly took Letty to the police station. She spent nearly two hours taking an incredibly detailed statement from her. Letty stuck to the true story, omitting only the letter and that Markham was planning to stage a rescue.

Letty went into great detail about the unknown helper.

“He was about five ten, very chunky, like a body builder, and had very short cropped hair. He had a tattoo on his right hand, on the back, it looked like a dragon or something. He sounded like a cockney. He was wearing jeans and a white England football shirt.”

At the same time, another detective phoned Sir Charles Greyson, and asked him to attend Leytonstone Police Station, and to bring the note. Prudence had left just prior to the police calling, giving Sir Charles a briefing as to what to say. She returned to Elm Park Gardens, and told her father the good news.

As soon as Sir Charles arrived at the police station, he was taken to an interview room to be reunited with his daughter.

Letty looked remarkably calm and very pleased to see him.

“Oh Daddy, this time it wasn’t my fault!” she said as she hugged him.

“No, I know it wasn’t my little love. I know.”

The officers took the note from him, sealing it in a forensic bag. Another detective took a statement from him. It was some time before they got home.

Meanwhile, back In Elm Park Gardens, Robert was relaxing with his daughter. The phone rang. Theresa answered it. It was Letty wanting to speak to Katie.

“I’m sorry Letty, Katie’s is still at work, but she’ll be back soon. Can I ask her to ring you?”

“I’ll do that, bye.”

“Splendid. A nice whisky is just what I need now.”

Rob arrived shortly afterwards. He walked in, looking very pleased with himself.

“The silly sod had a gun. He’ll be going away for a long time now.”

“You’re on the news,” Pru said, pointing at the television.

A reporter was standing outside a police cordon at the lockup.
 
 
      “Dramatic events unfolded here this afternoon. The full facts are not yet clear, but it is understood that a man has been arrested here on suspicion of kidnapping Letitia Greyson, only daughter of industrialist and financier, Sir Charles Geryson. I spoke to Detective Inspector George Adams a few moments ago.”

The camera shot changed to the policeman.

      “I can confirm that a young woman, was snatched from outside her college in Covent Garden at around four this afternoon. Tied up in the back of a Ford Transit, she was brought to this location. Tied up and gagged, she managed to chew through her gag and call for help. A passing member of the public, who has yet to come forward, came to her aid and gained access to the garage. After freeing her, they were confronted by the man, who is understood to have been armed with a handgun. A shot was heard by passers by, but they believed it to have been a car back firing. The men had a fight, and the kidnapper was over-powered. The girl contacted her father, and it was he who called the police. I can confirm that we have arrested one person in connection to this offence. We believe the man was acting alone, and that we are not seeking anyone else."

      “The young woman has now returned to her family unharmed, except somewhat shocked by her ordeal. I would urge the young man who came to her aid to come forward. He has displayed remarkable courage and I can assure him that we only seek to take a statement from him.”
 
 
Rob sniggered.

“I wonder what description she gave,” Pru said.

“Probably some six foot six black man. Oh, Dad, this is the letter the bastard was using as blackmail. Is it as nasty as he thought?” he said passing over the letter to his father.

Robert put on his spectacles and read the letter.

“Hmm, possibly. On face value, it seems innocuous enough, but there is a hint of slight irregularities. If it were I, I’d be slightly embarrassed but little more. Take it when you go and make yourself known to the family. But it won’t be for a while yet. I’m afraid you will have to go back to being Katie for a little while longer.”

“I suspected as much; may we know for how long?”

“You’re off to Paris with my cousin this weekend, so I think next weekend should see the beginning of the end.”

“Has he been really trying to track us to bump us off, for all these years?” Pru asked.

Robert scratched his head.

“I’m not sure. I do know that his men have tried to trace me, and succeeded a couple of times, that’s why we moved so suddenly so often. Michael fears me, he fears the fact I may have evidence that will ruin him, and he fears that I will prevent him from achieving his ambition.”

“Which is?” asked Rob.

“Robin, I don’t think he knows anymore. Initially, it was to oust me from my position and to take what wasn’t his. He was jealous, pure and simple. His family and ours were linked for so many years, and always he saw his family as subservient to ours. It wasn’t a matter of breeding, but one of ability. We were better at the job, but he is ruthless and quite fearless in business, which is why he has succeeded in such a competitive world. What he actually wants has been blurred, now I think it is to hang onto what he stole, and become as rich and influential as he can.”

“I never knew I was called Robin. I thought Rob was short for Robert.”

Robert smiled.

“You mother called you her little robin, just before she died. So I kept the name.”

“Rob, you’d better change, if I know Letty, she’ll be over to see you as soon as she can,” Pru said.

“How about you? Has your big soldier been in touch recently?”

“No, he’s probably busy down on the farm,” she said, quite brightly, but Rob knew she was missing him.

Rob went up stairs for a shower, shave and to recreate Katie again. As he sat at his dressing table, made up and looking every inch a desirable female, he tried to search his own eyes for his destiny. As soon as he became ‘Katie’ all male identity fell away, and he felt her to his core. He actually felt very at home and happy as Katie, yet he knew that the trials and tribulations to be really Katie would be unpleasant and costly. How much did he want it, or was he just content being something he knew?

He was happy being Rob, but felt that he would miss the girly things he had come to love. Then he thought of Letty. She loved him as Rob, and as nice as it was being her best girlfriend, he wanted more. The male hidden beneath so many layers struggled to be heard, but managed it in a very base context, that of sex.

He finished affixing his false nails, when Pru , now as Peter, shouted that Letty had arrived. He smiled at Katie’s reflection.

“Soon, my girl, you are going away for a very long holiday,” he told her.

‘Katie’ went down to let Letty tell her all about her ordeal.

---

 
To Be Continued...
 

 
 
Peter and Katie Marriott are returning to the UK after a lifetime abroad. The brother and sister are simply acting on their father’s directions. He has a plan, intending to join them a little later, but they have to fulfil certain obligations prior to his return.

Whilst at an airport hotel, the pair become entangled with a shady character who is intent on seizing the assets of a beautiful but somewhat scatty heiress, Letty Greyson. Using quick wits and dubious skills, they manage to rescue the girl and return her to the bosom of her family.

However, the attractive Katie and handsome Peter are not quite what they appear.........

 
 
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

Author's Introduction:
When considerably younger, I read and thoroughly enjoyed the many works of Georgette Heyer. A completely new and colourful world of Regency Romance opened up to me, and I found the whole range of books delightful in the extreme.

One book, The MASQUERADERS, was to become my favourite, dealing with issues with which I could readily identify. It had everything one could want in a book: - Wonderful characters, beautiful women, handsome heroes, nasty villains, duels by moonlight, deception, love and romance, highwaymen, heroic deeds and horse-back rides across open countryside. Good triumphed over evil, and true love prevailed.

It also had a hero who spent most of the book dressed as a beautiful woman, and a heroine who appeared as a man.

I have planned for a long time to modernise the story, using those wonderful characters that Georgette introduced to me then. Now I feel I am in a position to fulfil that ambition, and if this turns out half as good as the original, then I will be well pleased.

I make no apology for lifting the book from the eighteenth century and plonking it into the twenty-first. I am probably breaching all manner of copyright laws, but I state now that although the opening of the story is based on that great book, by the very nature of the world we find ourselves, my story will be different, save some of the names and the fact that it takes part in London. Anyone who has read the original work will be able to see where I am going to end up, but hopefully not the direction I intend to take to get there.

My thanks to those who helped me edit, but mainly my thanks to the late great Georgette Heyer for being such an inspiration.
 
 
Tanya Allan
 
Originally written in 2005, revised in 2008.
 
The Legal Stuff: Modern Masquerade  ©2005, 2008 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 11 - A Big Man Is Awake
 
 
Thursday saw the Marriotts back at work. Although ‘Katie’ had been told she didn’t need to go in, she had a couple of tasks to fulfil in relation to checking some data on the company records. Robert had told Rob precisely what he needed, and so there was no doubt as to what he was looking for.

It was remarkably easy; and related to some minutes of meetings with some executives from the Tech -American Group. He found what he wanted, copied what he needed and returned to his office. Sheena was waiting for him.

“Hi Katie, how are you?”

“Fine Sheena. I haven’t seen you for some time, are you okay?”

“Yeah, still looking for that special person,” she said with a smile.

“Well, that’s life. What can I do for you?”

“I heard you’re off to Paris with the big cheese.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I was wondering, if you’d like some company, I could meet you at your hotel?”

“That’s very sweet, but I don’t think it would work,” Rob said, trying not to be too harsh. Actually, Sheena was a very attractive girl, but Rob knew that his secret was just too tricky.

Sheena looked disappointed.

“How about a drink tonight, just to chat?” she said.

“Okay, just a chat, right?”

“Well, if things progress, you know how it is?” Sheena said with a small smile.

“Sheena, you’re very sweet, but actually I think I’ve found someone.”

“Lucky person. May I know if it’s a he or a she?”

Shit! How to get out of this one?

“It’s the opposite gender to me, does that help?” he said.

“He’s a lucky boy. Well, if you ever want to come over the fence, I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, I’ll bear it in mind.”

“Still okay for the drink after work?”

“Just a quickie.”

Sheena smiled and left him alone.

Relieved at his quick thinking, Rob went back to work, to try to calm himself down.
 

*          *          *
 
In the legal department, Pru was having a slack moment. The phone rang.

“Tremaine’s, legal department.”

“Peter, I have to see you.”

It was Tony.

“Where are you?”

“In my car, I’ll be in town in about an hour.”

“This sounds serious.”

“It is.”

“Is it a legal matter, I’m not a solicitor, yet.”

“No, it’s not legal, it’s more, I suppose one could say, a matter of the heart.”

“The heart? And you need to speak to me?”

“I do. I need your, ah, advice.”

“My advice. I’m flattered, but I’m hardly an expert in this field. What makes you think I can help?” Pru asked, suffering turmoil in her mind. He’d met someone else, and she was dying a little.

“I can’t drive and speak. I have to meet someone in about an hour, will you be free for lunch?”

“Yes, where?”

“Anywhere you like.”

“The Duke of York is quite good, do you know it?”

“Yes. I’ll be there at half twelve.”

Pru put the phone down, and noted she was shaking. Tears threatened to engulf her. She quickly went to the lavatory and shut herself in a cubicle.

She’d lost him!

The tears came, and she just let them, crying silently. If only she’d told him. Cursing her father, her brother, herself and the whole world, there she sat, a picture of dejection.

Somehow, she managed to regain composure. After about ten minutes, she waited for the lavatory to be clear, emerged and washed her face in cold water. Then she returned to her desk, engrossing herself in her work. She watched the clock, and time seemed to be made of treacle, all of a sudden, as that second hand seemed made of lead.

At a quarter past twelve, she got up and casually sauntered out to go to lunch. No one stopped her, and she found herself walking very fast towards the pub, which was about a five-minute walk from the building. On entering the pub, she noted it was filling up with the usual lunchtime regulars. She couldn’t see Tony, but she was a few minutes early. Going over to the bar she ordered a half pint of lager, and found a secluded table in a corner. She sat, toying with a beer mat, looking up expectantly every time someone entered the pub.

At about twenty-five to one, Tony arrived. Pru was surprised as he was in his scruffy old farmer’s gear, including green wellies. He stood in the doorway for a moment, scanning the crowd. Then he saw he, and with a brief nod and a smile, made his way over to her.

“Got a drink?” he said.

“Yes thanks.”

“Sorry I’m late, bloody lawyers.”

“Thanks,” she said, trying to smile.

“I’ll just get a drink. Have you ordered food?”

“I’m not hungry.”

He looked at her with a strange expression. Then he nodded and went to the bar. Pru sat there, feeling tormented, and thinking of all the ways she could tell him the truth. It seemed to take ages for him to return, but she realised it was only a couple of minutes.

Pretending to be calm and that nothing was wrong was hard, but Tony simply sat and said nothing for ages. He was frowning, and looked troubled. Pru’s heart went out to him, and she longed to reach out and hold his hand.

“So, what’s the problem?” she asked, forcing her voice to be businesslike.

“There’s this girl,” said Tony.

“And?”

“Well, it’s slightly complicated, but I’m not sure how she feels about me.”

“Ask her, it’s usually the best way, or so I’m told.”

“Hmm, I want to, but I think I’m more likely to complicate things if I do.”

A couple of office workers sat really close, the pub was becoming crowded, and Tony looked very uncomfortable.

“If you want, we could go for a walk. I can always catch a sandwich later,” suggested Pru.

Tony nodded and finished his pint in one long gulp. Pru finished hers and they left the pub and the noise behind.

It was a crisp sunny spring day, and both felt better outside. They strolled down the pavement towards the embankment.

“How do you think she’d react?” Pru asked.

“I’m not sure. I think I might scare her a little.”

“Why?”

Tony smiled.

“Because she’s a complicated soul, and I think I’m an extra complication that will cause her undue problems.”

Pru was quiet for a moment, her brain going into overdrive.

“Does she know what you feel about her?”

“No, at least I don’t think so. I’ve been careful not to let my feelings show too much. But it is quite hard.”

“Why?”

“Because I love her.”

They had reached the river. They stood, side by side, watching the boats moving up and down in front of them.

“Then I should tell her at the first opportunity,” Pru said, her heart breaking as she said the words.

“I shall. But I need to know the best way to do it.”

“I don’t think there’s a right way or wrong way to say it. You’ll make her day however you do it.”

Tony smiled, still staring across the river.

“Are you sure?”

She laughed.

“I’m sure. She’ll be the luckiest girl in the world.”

Tony looked sharply at her, watching her every expression.

“I don’t want to make an arse of myself,” he said, turning away again.

“Why should you?”

“Probably because I’d be sticking my nose into something I have no knowledge about.”

“What, love?”

“No, her complicated life.”

“How so?” she asked, looking at him, a glimmer of hope in her heart.

“Well, for some strange reason she’s pretending to be something she isn’t, and I just want her to know that I don’t care. How does one get through to someone deeply into a strange deception?”

At this point, he turned and looked at her, his eyes piercing her very soul. Pru’s heart rate increased and she felt slightly faint.

“What?” she stammered.

“Look, this can’t go on, I can’t take the pretence any more. You’re brilliant, but as I’ve come to get to know you, I am as sure as I can be what you really are. I just need to know why?”

Pru felt a rushing sensation in her ears, and as she wavered two strong arms reached out and steadied her. She looked up into his eyes, and saw the deep feeling he had been hiding from her.

“I can’t!” she said, fighting back the tears. A passing tourist saw two men almost embracing and hurried along as if he might become infected.

“Walk with me,” he said.

Both with hands rammed into their pockets, they walked slowly along the embankment.

“How did you guess?” she asked, her voice calm and now up to her usual pitch.

“It was a slow process. It started at the dinner. I actually saw the wine going down the sleeve. It’s a trick I learned ages ago and on its own would have meant nothing. Then, the following morning, your reaction to me puzzled me. I thought you might have been gay, but then my instincts kicked in. You really are very good you know?”

“Thanks, I’ve still failed,” she replied.

“May I know your real name?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Prudence.”

Tony didn’t laugh, but he smiled, nodding.

“It is very fitting, somehow.”

“My friends call me Pru.”

“May I be a friend?”

“I don’t deserve your friendship.”

“You do. So, your sister, she obviously knows, who else?”

Pru smiled.

“My sister, my father and Theresa.”

Tony frowned.

“Your father wouldn’t be Robert Tremaine, by any chance?”

Pru stopped walking.

“Is there anything you don’t know?”

“Lots, but I am now confused. Tremaine is supposed to have had a son and a daughter. Not two girls.”

Pru said nothing. They started walking again.

“No! I don’t believe it, not Katie?”

She nodded, still saying nothing.

“I’ll be buggered!” said Tony.

“Not by me you won’t!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…., but Katie, a boy? I don’t believe it!”

“Believe it, he is so much better than I.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know the whole story, and in a way it’s sad that you have exposed me now, as we are so close to the end. Dad was framed for an embezzlement he never did. The men responsible know Dad has evidence that can harm them, so they’ve been trying to locate and kill him for years. We’ve had to use extreme measures to keep hidden, and these role reversals have been one of many ploys.”

“You can trust me, I’ll not betray you. Why should I? I want you to be my wife.”

Pru stopped walking again.

“What did you say?”

“Pru, I love you. I love your courage, I love your steely resolve and I love your loyalty. I want to take you away from this deception. It isn’t right. I want to carry you off to my farm, and allow you to blossom into the wonderful woman you should be.”

These words broke Pru’s steely resolve, and she broke into tears.

They came to a bench. They sat close, but still not touching. Pru’s control was still in place, just, and she wasn’t going to break with her discipline.

“How can you love me, I’m living a lie?”

“I don’t know. I just know I do. Once I’d guessed, I had to spend as much time with you as I could, but in the end, being with you and not being able to speak to you as I wanted, and not being able to touch you or kiss you. It was driving me mad, so I went back to the farm. I kept thinking about you all the time, and in the end, I knew I just had to come and force you to admit what you really are.”

Pru was silent, wanting to reach out and touch him, but so entrenched in her role, she couldn’t.

“Tell me, was the highwayman your talented brother?” Tony asked.

“You guessed?”

“No, I’ve only just worked it out. So he was the one who freed Letty from the kidnapper. My God, what a family!”

“Poor Rob, he’s still slightly screwed up by the role playing.”

“Ah, so it’s Rob. I was wondering what his real name was. I can imagine it does. He does a very good girl, I even fancied my chances, until I realised I loved another.”

“I feel such a fraud.”

“Why?”

“I so want to be the woman for you.”

“You are, on the inside.”

“Tony, you don’t need someone like me. There are so many respectable women who’d leap at the…”

He kissed her, interrupting her. In broad daylight, two supposed men kissing on the embankment of the Thames.

He stopped and she looked up at him.

“There, that wasn’t too bad, was it?”

She shook her head.

“Now. How do I find out what she feels about me?”

“Ask her.”

“How do you feel about me?”

“I love you with all my heart, all my soul and all my life.”

“Marry me?”

“Tony, I can’t, I have to…”

He kissed her again.

“Marry me?”

“Ton…..”

“Marry me?”

“Oh all right!”

He burst out laughing.

“Oh, with such grace. Thank you. Now, when can you give up this charade?”

“A week, not much longer.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Now, I’m starving, how about some lunch?”
 
 
Chapter 12 - A Quick Drink
 
 
Sheena was excited. Being an attractive girl was fine, but when one is attracted to other girls, and one’s parents are old fashioned, it is so very hard to live a double life.

She’d found Mark, a gay male friend, at a party about a year ago. Mark came from an equally repressed background, and had an awful time keeping himself in the closet. Naturally promiscuous and with a steady boyfriend, he was terrified of his bank manager father finding out.

She and Mark came to an understanding. To their respective parents, they pretended to be going out together. Initially this had worked brilliantly, but as time went on, pressure to get married started to be brought to bear. They lived totally separate lives, in different flats, using each other as alibis for meeting their real lovers. In order to ease the parental pressure, they’d started sharing a flat together.

This had proved a wonderful compromise, until Mark’s boyfriend, Andy, moved in with Mark. They all got on famously, and on those occasions that Sheena brought someone back, the atmosphere was great.

However, mothers started ‘dropping in’ and the evidence of boy on boy and girl on girl was quite clear, unless one took special trouble to eliminate such evidence.

Stress was the inevitable result, and Andy had given Mark an ultimatum — come out or he was history.

After nights of tears, he’d bitten the bullet and come out of his closet, telling his mother he was gay.

She was upset, but her first remark was, “Oh my God, have you told Sheena?”

He couldn’t tell her that Sheena was a lesbian, so he said he had and that it was all over between them.

He and Andy kept the flat, so Sheena looked for a small single bed place. Her own mother, devastated by the news, would spend time with Marks mother trying to see if it was curable. Still she retained her own secret, and it was becoming a heavy burden for her.

Her last relationship ended when she found Marcia cheating on her with a boy. She had resigned herself to a life of celibacy when she saw Katie.

The girl had brought some work to HR, as they were actively recruiting abroad and required multi language application forms. She’d first seen her on her first day, and every now and again she’d see her about the building. She approached her once, and made it plain she was interested.

To Sheena’s delight, Katie hadn’t dismissed her out of hand, as so many did. She said she wasn’t interested, but seemed to leave a door open. She’d bided her time, and after seeing the girl rebuff all the men in the office, she’d gritted her teeth and gone in to make her interest very plain indeed.

She came away disappointed, for Katie admitted she had a relationship with a man. However, she did accept her offer of a drink and a chat. Now Sheena was confused, as she believed she was getting mixed signals from Katie.

At a little after five she made her way to Katie’s office. She stood looking at the girl as she worked on her computer terminal. She was really beautiful. She had an air of power and strength that Sheena hadn’t seen before, and she felt herself tingle with excitement at the possibility of becoming close with her.

Katie turned and saw her watching, waving her into the office. Katie’s cubicle was quite small, or snug, and she sat close to the girl as she finished up. She could smell her fragrance, becoming almost heady with lust.

Katie finished up, closed down the computer, and put away her papers.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Just a bit,” Sheena replied with a smile.

Katie stood up, took her jacket off the hanger and put it on. Then she took her bag from the small cupboard and slung the strap over her shoulder.

“Let’s go. Just a quick drink, okay?”

The girls left the building, saying goodnight to the security staff on the door.

“Where are we going?” ‘Katie’ asked.

“Scene or non-scene?”

“What?”

“Do you want to go to a scene or a non-scene place?”

The penny dropped. Sheena wanted to know if he wanted to go to a gay bar.

He smiled, as this could prove interesting.

“I’ll try anything once, how about scene?”

Sheena’s grin increased.

“Okay, are you sure?”

“Yeah, but, just a quickie.”

Sheena had her car, as she lived in a flat overlooking Victoria Park in the East End. It was a fifteen-minute drive, through the traffic, to a small pub off the Whitechapel Road.

As soon as they entered, Rob realised that he was the only male in the place. This was as scene as they come, and after a brief glance, most women who looked at him, glanced away, satisfied she was one of them. Two or three remained staring, hoping, no doubt, he’d return the stare and this could lead to other things.

Rob played it cool, and met no one’s eyes as he and Sheena approached the bar.

“What would you like?”

“A half lager shandy, thanks.”

Sheena bought the drinks and they found a table in a small booth.

“What do you think?”

“I’d hate to be a bloke and just walk in off the street.”

Sheena laughed and moved closer.

“I’m so pleased you came.”

“That’s okay. I may not be in the market, but I’m open minded.”

“This person you’ve found, is he nice?”

“I think so,” Rob said, taking a sip from his drink.

“Have you ever been with a girl?”

Rob spluttered his drink.

“Yes, yes I have,” he answered, quite honestly.

“So, is it really better with a man?”

“Have you been with a man?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Sort of. I was abused by my father’s business partner when I was fifteen. I know that’s not really counted, but it sort of spoiled things for me.”

“Shit! That’s awful, did you tell anyone?”

“I told my mum, but she thought I was making it up. She saw the blood and then believed me. She told Dad who pretended it never happened. I ran away and told the police. It made a right stink, as he was married and had children. I was made to feel so bad about it all. I refused to go to court in the end.”

Rob took her hand.

“I’m so sorry. It must have been awful for you.”

“I left home as soon as I could. He’s still working with Daddy and grins at me every time he sees me, the bastard!”

They continued to chat, and one drink led to two and then four.

Rob found himself on the small dance floor, holding Sheena in his arms. They started kissing, and his sticking plaster started to pull.

Shit! How the fuck did this happen? He thought to himself.

It was eight o’clock, and he knew he had to get out before things got too hot.

He broke away from her. It was surreal, all these women, and no men. Women kissing and fondling each other, openly and without any inhibitions.

“I have to go!”

“Must you?”

“Yes. I have a million and one things to do before tomorrow.”

“Can we do this again?” she asked, putting one hand round the back of his neck.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

They returned to the table and collected their coats and bags. Sheena accompanied Rob outside. They stood close together. Rob found her very attractive and he was aroused.

“Look, Sheena, I feel sort of guilty about this. I do find you attractive, but to be honest, my life is so complicated just now; this is one complication I can’t cope with. I also need to sort myself out. It’s nothing you’ve done, but I need to know which side of the fence I am.”

He wanted to tell her the truth, but knew that was impossible.

“I promise I won’t have any expectations,” Sheena said. She desired Katie so much, and she was willing make any compromise if the girl would be willing to go to bed with her.

“It’s not a matter of expectations. It’s a matter of truth and integrity. As I said, if we went to bed, or even started a relationship, it is doomed before we start, so unless things change, I have to stop here. I appreciate that this is difficult for you, but it has to be. I promise, that if I find myself on your side of the fence, I will come to your door.”

Sheena had tears in her eyes, and Rob felt so bad.

“I did say a quick drink, I thought this might happen.”

“Why did you come, then?”

“I’m not sure, and that’s the truth. Sheena, I’m as screwed up as you are, if not more so. Don’t hate me, please?”

“I don’t. I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Rob found tears in his own eyes.

He kissed the girl.

“This has to be, I’m sorry.”

He turned and walked away, leaving her standing on the steps of the pub.

He hailed a cab and sat watching the rain as it started to put a real damper on the evening. The streetlights made weird shaped on the glass of the taxi, and Rob found himself even more confused than ever. He had wanted her, as a man wants a woman, and yet, he wanted her to want him as two women.

He thought of Letty. The guilt and confusion threatened to overwhelm him.

“What am I?” he asked himself.

“Sorry love?” said the cabbie, and Rob realised he had vocalised out loud.

“Nothing, sorry.”

“What am I?” he repeated, silently this time.

“I’m a man.”

“You don’t look like one!”

“This is pretend. I’m a man.”

“You don’t think like one.”

“I do.”

“You act, sound and live like a girl.”

“That’s all pretend.”

“Who are you trying to kid?”

“No one. I want to be me.”

“Who are you?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

“Who do you want to be?”

Rob thought long and hard.

“I don’t care, I just want to stop pretending.”

“The operation is easy these days.”

“I’d still be pretending.”

“No one would know. You’re attractive enough.”

“I’d know.”

“Who do you want to be?”

“Me!”

The cab pulled up outside Elm Park Gardens. Rob paid the fare and walked up the steps. The others were having dinner. He noted that Pru was dressed as herself again.

“Are you joining us?” his father asked.

“I’m not hungry,” he said and started going up stairs.

After a few moments Pru followed him, finding him face down on his bed, crying.

“Oh Rob, it’s okay, sweetie, it really is okay!”

“What the fuck am I, Pru?”

“You’re my baby brother, and I love you.”

They held each other for a long time. Eventually Rob went for a shower, removed everything that was Katie and slipped into bed stark naked.

Pru went down stairs and sought her father.

“This stops now!” she said.

“Soon.”

“No, Daddy, now! That boy is at the end of the road. Do you realise what he’s been through?”

“I can imagine.”

“No, you can’t. We had a conversation very like this back when that big Australian tried to rape him. You had no idea then and you still have no idea what he’s going through.

“That boy doesn’t know his arse from his elbow. He doesn’t know if he’s a boy or a girl, straight or gay. He is so fucked up by your bloody plans and intrigues that he hasn’t a fucking clue as to what planet he’s on. It has to end tonight.”

“That’s impossible, I promise no longer than next week end.”

“He might not last that long. On your head be it.”

She turned and walked out, leaving his sitting there, alone.
 
 
Chapter 13 - Paris in the Spring, Caught in the Act
 
 
“Captain Bosworth and his crew thank you for flying British Airways. We look forward to welcoming you on board a British Airways flight again soon, and hope you have a pleasant time here in Paris. Please remain seated with your seat belts fastened until the aircraft has stopped moving.”

As soon as the Airbus stopped, Rob unfastened his seat belt and stowed the magazine in the pocket provided. He had never flown First Class before, and had enjoyed it immensely. Club and business class, yes, but never first, the space and service had been wonderful. Dressed as the high-flying female executive she purported to be, ‘Katie’ was immaculate in a dark Kashmir woollen skirt and top, with silk blouse. With perfect makeup, nails and hair, he was the object of attention from every male he passed.

Michael Hatton liked having a very attractive girl in his company. To all onlookers, she appeared to be either his mistress or his daughter. He didn’t actually mind which they thought she was, as he was just pleased to be seen with someone as striking as she.

She was good company, capable of holding a solid conversation, and with sensible views, reasonably expressed. He was impressed with her grasp of international affairs, and she possessed a good deal of knowledge pertaining to other cultures and nationalities of which he was ignorant. She was polite and respectful, but not supercilious and subservient. She was destined to go far, so he relaxed in her company.

The cab ride from the airport passed many landmarks. Mike noted that Katie didn’t look that interested in any of them.

“Been here before?”

“I lived here for a few years.”

“Really?”

“I adore it, but for the people and ambience, not the tourist traps.”

“Ah. I have to confess, I’ve only been here on business, so really have never had time to actually get out and see the sights.”

“There are some cafés that you just have to see. The problem is that businessmen are too highly charged to appreciate the laidback lifestyle.”

“Are you saying it’s good to be laidback?”

“There’s laidback and laidback. Take you, for example. You’ve been a hard worker for what, thirty years, plus? Where has it got you? Are you happy? Do you not yearn to just stop the world and get off, lounge around in whatever clothes are available, and pass the time of day with like-minded people who don’t care what the stock market is doing?”

Mike smiled. Actually, quite recently, he had asked himself what all his life was in aid of.

“You’re married, right?” she asked.

“I am.”

“Children?”

“Three, grown up now.”

“Do you get on with them?”

“I suppose so, why?” he asked, frowning.

“Wouldn’t you like to walk barefoot along a beach with your children, with no agenda, no pressure and no time constraints?”

The concept suddenly sounded very appealing.

“I suppose so.”

“Then that’s the atmosphere the cafés in Paris offer you.”

He nodded appreciating the idea, but realising the practice was not going to be his to make. She smiled.

“You’re missing out,” she said.

“Then if we have time, you could take me to a café.”

“I’d like to.”

They arrived at the hotel, and had rooms on the same floor. It was a luxurious hotel, and Rob closed the door of his room, grinning with unmitigated pleasure. It was noon, but there was an initial meeting at two thirty. He had time for a soak in that wonderful bath, and then he’d be ready for the fray.

He was feeling a whole lot better after his time with his sister on the previous evening. He recognised that going with Sheena was a silly mistake. He felt more sure of himself, as his father had taken him aside as he was leaving this morning. Dressed as Katie, he was ready for his Paris trip.

“Rob, if you want to stop, then you must stop now.”

“Dad, I can do this.”

“I know you can, but you no longer have to.”

“I do, Dad. I need to prove to myself that I can finish it, put away Katie and start being who I should be.”

“I told you, you must be who you feel you are.”

“Dad, I need to find that out for myself. I will finish this.”

His Dad had given him a hug, and he’d left, still as Katie.
 

*          *          *
 
Meanwhile, back at Tremaine Tower, ‘Peter Marriott’ was in the Archives. Searching through accounts material from nearly thirty years ago, Pru was looking for anything relating to Ryan Grover. She didn’t hear the door open, so never saw the man who hit her on the head.

A short time later, Tony Fanshaw was walking towards Tremaine Tower. He felt so much better now that there were no secrets between them any more. He felt such a fool, for although he had been about as certain as he could be that ‘Peter’ was a girl, her sheer confidence and audacity made him doubt even his own senses. For a while he wondered whether he was turning gay, as the attraction was so strong, but as he began to see through her deception he became more and more convinced she was indeed a woman. He had declared his feelings and found, to his delight, that his love was returned, and now he found the whole scenario rather exciting.

He planned to take his friend, ‘Peter’ out for lunch, and as he was a little early he decided to walk the block to pass the time. As he walked down the side of the building, he glanced down into the underground garage/car park. He couldn’t see much, but he saw a glimpse of two men placing an inert figure of another into the boot of a car.

He couldn’t see any faces, but all his instinct told him that Pru was in trouble. What could he do?

His car was a good distance away, so he couldn’t hope to get back and attempt to follow. He watched, horror struck, as one man stayed with the car, and another headed back to the elevator. He made a decision, he had no time to do anything else, so he calmly walked down the ramp into the car park.

Gavin Newman was a driver. He did little else, but he was a very good driver. He’d started out driving for a team of robbers, but found himself in Brixton Prison for three years for his part in an armed robbery. The detective inspector, Ryan Grover, offered him a deal. Pass information on robbers and even if he was involved, he’d get him off.

It worked, so Gavin still drove for the jobs, and worked as an informant. He actually made a bit of money, of which he paid thirty percent to Grover. It didn’t last, as Grover was caught taking back-handers from all manner of people. However, men like Grover are very useful, and he was never out of work for long. In turn he needed a driver who didn’t ask questions, so he offered Gavin a chance to turn respectable, almost.

Ryan had told him to get the car ready at the upper level of the underground car park, by the freight elevator. He complied.

Ryan told him to help put the unconscious man in the boot. He complied.

Ryan then told him to wait while he contacted the boss. He was complying.

He sat in the car, behind the wheel, listening to Capital Radio. He heard the footsteps before he saw anyone. He looked up, and frowned as he saw a strange man approach. He was a big man, looking like he meant business. Gavin wasn’t a fighter, as he only drove cars. Being five eight, and no more than ten stone, six foot five of angry ex-army officer was too much even for Gavin.

He tried to start the car.

The driver’s door was almost wrenched off its hinges. Gavin felt two large and very strong hands grab him, and the next thing he knew, he was face down on the concrete with consciousness ebbing away. He never even saw Tony’s face.

Tony opened the boot with the ignition key, looked down at the inert figure of the girl he loved, and became even angrier. On checking her pulse, he found it strong. He knew he couldn’t carry her all the way to his car without attracting attention, so he closed the boot, and jumped into the drivers seat, moving the seat back all the way.

He started the car, and drove it slowly out of the car park, turning left towards where is own car was parked a few streets away. He then changed his mind, contemplating driving all the way back to his farm. He knew the men wouldn’t report the car stolen without giving their game away. He drove straight past his car, heading west towards the M40.

Ryan was reporting to Mike on the phone. Unfortunately, Mike was in Paris, so wasn’t able to speak much. He was just having lunch with an attractive interpreter from the company, and so he was limited to grunting and monosyllabic answers.

“I’ve caught a snooper in archives.”

“Yes?”

“He’s a new bloke, works in the legal department. Name of Marriott, Peter Marriott.”

Mike looked over the menu at Katie Marriott.

“Excuse me my dear, business calls,” he said and stood up, leaving her at the table.

“Go on.”

“I’ve laid him out cold, and he’s in the boot of the Merc. What do you want done with him?”

“Are you sure of what he is?”

“Why else would he be in archives looking at the 1970s accounts?”

“Hmm, have you checked with his department head?”

“Yes, and he’s supposed to be looking over a contract for our transport boys.”

“Shit. Is he Tremaine’s kid?”

“No. I’ve checked his prints, and he’s not.”

“So what the hell is he? I’ve his sister here in Paris, she’s a lovely girl, and very good at what she does. Could he just have been doing a favour for someone?”

“I don’t know. I’ll need to ask him.”

“Okay, take him to the usual place. Don’t hurt him, not yet. Just get him to tell us everything he knows. I’ll work on the sister. Maybe she’s in on it too.”

Tony couldn’t keep driving knowing she was in the boot. He pulled over, still within the West End. He went to the boot and looked in. She was coming round. He looked up and down the road, and lifted her bodily out of the boot and carried her to the front passenger seat.

She opened her eyes.

“Ow!” she said, rubbing the back of her headwith her hand.

“Bloody hell, that fucking hurts.”

She blinked a couple of times, took in Tony, and looked about her.

“Okay, what the hell happened?” she asked.

Tony told her what he’d seen and done.

“So, what were you up to, to bring this onto yourself?” he asked.

“Dad wanted me to look for something in archives.”

“So, the boss has probably been told, what are we going to do now?”

“Rob, we have to warn Rob.”

“We can’t just call, Hatton will be suspicious. We have to assume that the men who have now lost you have told him. Katie is supposed to be your sister, so Hatton will assume you are in it together. We could call the police?”

“We’ll do better than that, we’ll go there and help him. Hatton won’t do anything until he gets back to the UK, so he’ll play it careful. If we go to Paris, we could walk in and walk out with Rob.”

“You people just don’t live normal lives like the rest of us, do you?”

Pru grinned.

“Take me to Elm Park Gardens. It’s time that Miss Tremaine was allowed out of her box again.”

Robert Tremaine was on the telephone when Pru and Tony arrived. It became evident that Tony knew their secret, and was the latest recruit in the Tremaine cause.

Pru left Tony downstairs with her father.

Tony was obviously still angry at what had happened and held the older Tremaine responsible for endangering the woman he loved. He stood somewhat stiffly, glaring at the older man.

“I don’t suppose it would do any good if I attempted to explain?”

“Sir, you have allowed your daughter to flirt with danger once too often. She could have been killed!”

“She wasn’t, and if you hadn’t interfered, the undercover officers who were watching the whole thing would have arrested those responsible and tied it all into the man I’m after.”

Tony blinked a couple of times.

“Do you think for one minute that I’d let Pru undertake such a task without taking as much care of her as I could?”

“Well…”

“For your information, the serious Fraud office and the Metropolitan Police are actively investigating Mr Hatton, several senior officers of the company and one Ryan Grover, whom you have neatly got off the hook.”

“Daddy, stop being a pompous ass. Tony did what he thought was right, which is more than can be said for you half the time.”

Both men turned and stared at Pru.

She had stripped away all vestiges of Peter Marriott. Wearing a bright red dress, with white piping on the sleeves and hem, sheer stockings and high heels, she looked majestic. With her makeup, earrings and other jewellery, she simply took Tony’s breath away. Her short hair somehow suited her, particularly the way she had styled it, and he knew in his heart that there could never be anyone else for him. Of Peter Marriott, there was absolutely no sign at all.

“Prudence, dear, I was just…”

“Daddy, Tony and I are engaged, regardless of your views on the subject. I’ve had enough of being dictated to, and fully intend to be a full partner, rather than just an ‘operative’ of this family. Now, what shall we do about Rob?”

Tony wasn’t sure what he expected, but he was more than pleasantly surprised at how feminine Pru turned out. He thought she was wonderful before seeing her like this. Now, his heart sang.

“You scrub up pretty well,” he said, and received a box around the ears.

“All right you two, enough. We must work out how we finish things,” Tony held his hand out to Pru who took it, standing as close as she could to him. They both looked at Robert.

“Okay, Daddy, let’s hear it.”
 

*          *          *
 
Mike received a second, and very worrying call from Ryan.

“He’s been sprung!”

“What?”

“He’s done a bunk. We had him in the boot of the car, I left Gavin while I called you, and some big bastard laid out Gavin and nicked the car.”

Mike apologised to Katie again, and walked out of the restaurant to a secluded spot.

“You mean the car’s been stolen with a body in the boot?”

“That’s what it looks like. Only he’s not a body, yet.”

“You fucking idiot. Can’t you do anything right?”

“There’s another problem.”

“Oh, bring them on, the more the merrier.”

“I’ve just been speaking to Reg Clarkeson in accounts, he says that some of our accounts have been frozen.”

“What do you mean, frozen?”

“We can’t use them, no money in, no money out.”

“Call the banks, it’s probably a computer thing.”

“He says he tried that, and was told it was technical. But, he checked with Infratronics, just down the road, they use the same bank, and they have no problems.”

Mike looked at his watch. He had a meeting in less than half an hour in this very hotel. It was an important meeting, and one he could not afford to miss. He looked at Katie Marriott, sitting poised and elegant at the table, as she finished an excellent meal. Mike didn’t want to think she was involved, as she seemed too nice.

“Find the car, find Marriott, find out what his game is, and if necessary change banks. I’m switching this bloody phone off, and won’t be available until five o’clock.”

He turned the phone off, returning to the table.

“Sorry about that, my dear. Such are the trials of high office.”

Rob was astute enough to realise that trouble was occurring. He also knew that his father was probably the instigator. It was possible that Pru was in trouble, which meant he could be in danger. Mike was charm itself, and slightly more oily and greasy than he had been before the first call.

Nevertheless, the man gave no hint he suspected anything was amiss. Indeed, they went into the meeting as if nothing was wrong. ‘Katie’ was kept very busy, as there were representatives from four language groups, so Mike had her translating all four in rotation.

The hours sped past, and as the meeting broke up, Rob realised that it was now almost half past five.

Mike was pleased. The meeting had gone very much better than he had anticipated. He was really pleased with Katie, as she had managed to keep ahead of the game, and even surprised the delegates with her linguistic skills. She kept a cool head and didn’t become flustered even when discussions became heated. Such was her calmness that gradually the speakers took their cues from her, and only continued when she had finished interpreting.

The more he saw her in action, the more he became convinced that her brother was operating alone, and probably had no real idea what he was doing or what he was after. The question was simple, for whom was he working?

He proposed to see if Katie knew the answer. It had to be done subtly, and over dinner in the hotel.

“Katie, you did remarkably well, today. Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir, I try.”

“You will join me for dinner, won’t you?”

“I’d love to, thanks. What time?”

“Eight?”

“Super, it’ll give me another opportunity to try the spa-bath.”

Rob returned to his room, where he attempted to call his sister. Her mobile was switched off, and was diverted to answer phone. He thought about calling his father and decided not to. His father always had the attitude that problems were for solving, not sharing.

Rob ran the bath, and after making sure the door was once again secure, he had a luxurious soak, shaving his legs, arms and anywhere else that needed it.

He was early down to the bar, dressed in a little black number he’d bought in Italy a few months previously. With shapely legs, sexy high heels and a gorgeous figure, he was conscious of the frankly appraising stares of most of the men in the bar as he entered.

He walked over to the bar. A tall, elegant woman in a bright red dress was perched with her back to him on a bar stool, her long legs as shapely and slightly longer than his. Her broad American accent marked her origins, but her escort was very tall and was dressed in a check shirt and tan trousers. Rob assumed him to be American also.

“Honey, can we go see the loov tomorrow?” the woman asked, but Rob was staring at the man. It was Tony, but Tony was looking through him as if he didn’t recognise him.

Then the woman turned round. Rob nearly fainted, for it was his own sister in all her glory and then some.

“Hi, or should I say bonjoor. Are you French?”

“No, I’m English, my name’s Katie Marriott,” Rob said, looking puzzled.

“Hi Katie, my name’s Marianne McCulloch, and this here is ma husband Tony. This is our first time here in gay Paree. We were going to London first, but there were all kinds of problems there,” Pru said emphasising the last five words.

It was at that moment that Mike turned up, looking very smart in a dark suit and tie.

“Is this your husband, honey?” said the outrageous Pru.

“No, this is my employer, Michael Hatton. This is, I’m sorry, Marianne, I’ve forgotten your surname.”

“McCulloch, honey. It’s Scotch.”

“That’s Scottish, dear. Scotch is a drink,” said Tony with a dry but definite New England accent. Rob was impressed, and smiled in spite of his confusion.

Mike was anxious to distance himself from the brash and ignorant Americans. He suggested to ‘Katie’ that they go to their table.

“Yes, I’d love to. Would you mind if I powdered my nose first?”

“What? Oh, no, not at all,” said Mike, slightly embarrassed.

‘Katie’ headed for the ladies, followed a little while later by the big American woman.

They had the lavatory to themselves.

“What the hell is going on?” Rob asked.

Pru told him.

“Tony knew? You found out yesterday and said nothing? Shit, Pru, you’re slipping.”

“No, I’m getting out. As soon as this one’s over, I’m going to move in with Tony. We’re getting married.”

Rob stared at her.

“Good for you. It’s about time, and I approve, he’s a cracking bloke.”

“I know. What about you, little brother, which way are you going to go?”

Rob shook his head.

“I honestly don’t know. I think I love Letty, but I also love being a girl. I’m screwed up!”

“You need to lose Katie for a while. Learn to be Rob again, then make your choice.”

Rob changed the subject.

“So, what can we do about Hatton? I do know he’s seriously worried about something, and I think it’s more than just Peter Marriott.”

“Look, we’re here now, we’ll back off a little and let Hatton start to see what you know. You ought to know that Daddy did a deal with the powers that be, and there is a full scale investigation into Tremaine Industries.”

“So, it all comes to a head?”

“Yup, then we can go back to being normal, kid.”

“Pru, what the hell is normal?”

“That, my dear brother, is what you can have fun finding out.”

‘Katie’ returned first, and accompanied Mike into the restaurant. Pru returned to Tony and they sat in the bar, keeping a casual eye on Rob.
 

*          *          *
 
“I’m a little concerned,” said Mike, as he looked at the menu.

“Oh?”

“Yes, it appears that your brother has been accessing files that don’t concern him.”

“Peter?”

“Yes. One of the security men found him in the archives. Would you know if he has a hidden agenda?”

“I don’t think so. I know he told me that he got a call from an ex-employee who wondered about ex-gratia payments for those injured before the 1987 Industrial Accident Regulations. He told the man to see a solicitor, but he said he couldn’t afford one. I think Pete is a bit of a soft touch for a sob story, so I think he could have been looking into that.”

Mike Hatton felt a degree of relief, as it all made perfect sense. Anyone could pretend to be an ex-employee, and by calling the legal department, the clerk would feel legally bound to check out the claim, before notifying management. Robert Tremaine could have instigated such a search, and the searchee would have no idea they were being used.

He experienced the lifting of a cloud from his mind, but there were still other clouds to annoy him.

Now he had a problem with Ryan’s hasty actions. Where was Peter now, and was it likely he’d sue? What a mess.

As for the frozen accounts, what was that all about? Was there a Trojan attack on the account or was it more sinister, were they the target of an investigation?

He wouldn’t be able to find out until Monday. By which time he would be flying back.

“You seem distracted,” said ‘Katie’, as the waiter finished taking their order.

“I’m sorry, there are several things happening that are worrying me. Not least the board meeting next Thursday.”

“Oh, that’s a big one is it?”

“Yes, one of the most important for a long time. It could decide the future of Tremaine Industries.”

“Sounds ominous.”

“It’s not meant to. In a changing world, the larger corporations and multi-nationals are best suited to survive, so it seems logical that we must look to amalgamate with a multi-national to give us the boost in the world market.”

“It’s different when one looks at companies as being started and run by a single family. With big corporations taking over, the people on the ground seem less important. Priorities seem to focus on the turnover and the shareholder, rather than the worker and the families they are trying to support,” she said.

“That’s a slightly naíve view, in this day and age. For we have seen that strength comes with the security of a big company.”

“Not necessarily. For with every buy-out there are casualties. I mean, when Morrisons bought out Safeways, they had no interest in perpetuating an effective HR system, so all the HR staff, from management down were out on their ear. The systems that had taken years to develop and put in place were scrubbed instantly. Morrisons HR handling was barbaric, but effective. So many were left scrabbling back in the job market place after having had their secure jobs removed.”

“That’s progress, my dear.”

“No, its called profit for shareholders and bonuses for management. There seems to be no honour, respect or decency left. It’s dog eat dog, and to hell with the little guy.”

Mike stared at this very attractive girl. Her views weren’t the ignorant ideas of an idealist, she had sound views based on real facts, and it perturbed him slightly that the system was that transparent.

Wisely, he changed the subject, and they spoke of lighter matters. She was very worldly and well travelled, and he enjoyed her descriptions of the lady-boys of Thailand.

“Seriously, you can’t tell they aren’t girls. I suppose the only effective way is to inspect their nether regions, but there are many travellers and sailors who didn’t find out until the last possible moment, and hey, any port in a storm.”

“I find it hard to believe that males can disguise their masculinity as effectively as that. Even with breast implants and hormones, there will always be traits they can’t hide,” Michael said.

“Really? Like what?”

“Hands, for one. Take your hands,” he said, looking at her slender hands with beautifully manicured and varnished nails. “They are so different to mine.”

“But if I’d been taking hormones for years, wouldn’t they look feminine?”

“Probably not. They’d be bigger. Like your size, and strength; a male is just naturally bigger, and no amount of hormones would alter that. I find it had to accept that males can ever successfully pretend to be female.”

Katie had a strange smile on her face.

“The other thing you have to realise is that the Thais and other oriental people groups have smaller frames to Caucasians and African peoples. The different structure of the male and female skeleton is less marked than ours, so it is easier to create an impression of being female,” she said.

“Well, maybe, but I think I’d always know one when I saw one.”

Katie smiled and nodded.

“Yup, I think you probably could,” she said.

“I mean, Looking around here, the only one which could possible be a male would be that bloody American woman, and that’s only because of her size. But with those boobs and her general shape, one can see she’s a genetic female.”

“So, I couldn’t be a transvestite, then?” she said, teasing him.

Mike laughed.

“You? Oh dear me, no. There are several good reasons why you could never be mistaken for a man in drag.”

“They are?”

“Look around you. Every male in the place wants to take you to bed, apart from the fact that you ooze sex appeal, you are just far to feminine.”

Katie smiled, but refrained from saying anything else, as the waiter brought their wine.

The meal was very good, helped by ‘Katie’s’ excellent French. Mike noted with relief that the noisy Americans came in later and were seated a long way from their table.

After the meal, Mike excused himself, returning to his room to make some phone calls.

Rob found Pru and Tony in the bar.

“Hi guys, how’s it going?”

“Dad called. The police have found the car and picked up a man called Ryan Grover and the driver Tony hit. As Peter Marriott has ‘gone missing’ the police are treating it as a potential murder enquiry. The driver has already told the police about the body in the boot business and then the car being stolen. Mr Grover is in deep brown stuff.”

“Has Dad told them the truth?”

“Does Daddy ever tell anyone the whole truth?”

“No.”

“Well then, what do you expect?” asked Pru.

“I don’t know, I wish I knew what was on his mind.”

“Is there anything coming up that he’s got plans for?” asked Tony.

“Not that I know….wait, yes, Mike was mentioning something about a boardmeeting on Thursday. It seems there may be a takeover bid forthcoming, and judging by what he was saying, the management are in favour.”

“Don’t the board of shareholders have to agree?”

A light came on for both Pru and Rob.

“The meeting, Dad must have been buying up loads of shares to attempt a coup at the meeting.”

“Isn’t there a rule about how many can be owned by a single individual?”

“Probably, but that’s where we come in. I’d bet anything, we are the major share holders, and he will just have enough to get him access to the meeting.”

“Now all we have to worry about is Mike,” said Rob.

“Nah, he’s history.”

“He could still go down fighting.”

“He can try, but look at who he’s facing,” said Tony with a grin.

“That’s true. Look, shall we go out to a night club?” suggested Rob.

Tony looked at Pru, and the latter had a smile on her face.

“No, I think Mr McCulloch is gonna have to take Mrs McCulloch to bed,” she said, in her best (or worst) American drawl.

Rob smiled, but Tony smiled even more.

“Goodnight Katie, see you in the morning,” said Pru.

In his room down the hall, Mike Hatton was a very worried man. Ryan’s numbers were simply unobtainable, and he started to sweat.
 
 
Chapter 14 - It All Comes Together
 
 
Pru was in seventh heaven. Tony was as steady and strong in bed as he was on dry land, so to speak. She’d had a few brief and unsatisfactory sexual encounters in her life. Mostly because her father managed to scare off any potential bed-mate before it ever reached that stage. Unlike Rob, she’d spent more time as her own gender than he had. She was in no doubt as to her correct gender and sexuality.

It had been like coming home, for both of them.

They’d both been nervous, as neither were experienced in sexual matters. Tony had lost his virginity at eighteen to a mother of a friend from school. Although the experience had taught him a good deal, it also scared him a little. He had been a big and good-looking lad, and girls would all but throw themselves at him. He found the girls he was attracted to were the ones least likely to be an easy lay.

He actually preferred this, as he wanted to find someone with whom he could be a friend with first, and just enjoy their company, sharing common interests. To become lovers was secondary, and in Pru he found the perfect compromise.

“You know, I think Professor Higgins would approve of you,” he told her as they lay together as the dawn broke, sending slivers of pale light through the chinks in the curtain.

“Me, why?”

“He wanted a woman to be more like a man.”

She rolled on top of him, so their noses were almost touching.

“So, I’m more like a man, am I?”

“Yes and no. Yes, in that I can relate to you easier than any woman I have ever known. I feel I don’t have to explain things to you, as you will automatically understand. But, no, because you are without doubt the most beautiful and sexy woman I have ever met.”

“More beautiful than Katie?”

He laughed.

“I love you, Pru,” he said, and she did something amazing with her tongue.

Tony rose first on the Monday morning, as he did most mornings, presenting her with continental breakfast in bed, with a single red rose.

Saturday had seen a very subdued Hatton attend the various meetings. Rob had seen that the man was clearly distracted, and the meetings, although satisfactory, managed to pass without much input from Tremaine Industries senior executive.

Sunday gave ‘Katie’ an opportunity to see some of the city. As Mike stayed in the hotel, still trying in vain to contact Ryan, so the ‘nice American couple’ agreed to accompany her.

There was a final meeting with three members of the Tech -American group. There was no need for ‘Katie’ to be present, as they all spoke English. However, Mike Hatton was feeling insecure, and wishing to make a good impression, he asked her to attend as his PA.

It was a brief meeting. The senior negotiator was a vice-president of the American company, Harry G. Laszsciw, a third generation New Yorker of Polish descent. He was a hard-nosed man, who gave little. He saw Tremaine Industries as a small fish, but quite a valuable one. Their possession of a large section of the European and Far Eastern Market rendered them a valuable asset in the global picture of Petrochemical Industrial and agricultural machinery, in particular - pumps. Vast areas of low-lying land depended upon Tremaine pumps to irrigate and drain. They were dependable and easily maintained, with cheap parts and were now being constructed in factories in the countries themselves.

Tremaine, although not a huge corporation, was a wealthy one, and had great potential.

The short but constructive meeting fascinated Rob. Tech-American was offering a substantial sum for the smaller British firm. Although Laszcziw didn’t say so, Rob understood that as soon as it was acquired, it would be split into divisions, asset stripped, with the British end dissolved. He had a tape recorder running throughout.

Mike was more relaxed after the meeting, having come to an understanding with Laszcziw. There was the Shareholders Board Meeting on the Thursday where a vote would be taken. Mike seemed complacent that he would win the day. He stood to win an enormous personal fee from the Americans for engineering the deal, as well as transferring his shares from Tremaine to Tech-American, which would also benefit him greatly.

“I think it’s quite sad. I mean, this company was built up by one man, and here you are selling it up.”

“That, my dear, is what we call progress,” he said, quite cheerfully. They were in the taxi to the airport. Rob knew that the end was now in sight. Though quite what that end would mean, he had no idea.

As he boarded the plane, and he took his seat next to Mike in First Class, he noted that his sister and Tony were in Business Class, a little way back. Pru gave him a little wave.

The short flight was uneventful, and they whizzed through immigration, collected their luggage and were out of the Terminal in no time.

“I’ll see you in the office tomorrow. There’s no need to go in today, I have to, but you can have the rest of the day off. Please don’t talk to anyone about the meeting this morning, it is strictly confidential until after this Thursday’s meeting.”

“I won’t,” Rob lied.

Mike went to the cab rank and got into the next cab in line. Rob watched him go as Tony and Pru joined him.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now, nothing, it’s business as usual.”

“Really?”

“I’ve just talked to Dad. The SFO are about to close down Mr Hatton. Four of his top people are also under investigation, so I think we have to carry on as normal. At least, you have to, Peter Marriott has disappeared.”

Rob frowned.

“What are we going to do about that?”

“Nothing, she’s coming down to my place in the country, and will stay there for a while,” said Tony, placing a proprietary arm around he shoulders. She looked up at him, grinned and kissed him.

“Until Thursday, that is,” she said.

“Thursday, why?”

“Daddy has put some shares of Tremaine Industries into our names. We have enough to attend the meeting.”

“Which names?” Rob asked, reasonably enough. After all, he’d used so many over the years.

“Ours, silly, Robin and Prudence Tremaine.”

“We’re Tremaines now, then?”

“Daddy says we always were.”

“And you believe him?”

“Not normally, but this time, yes, I think I do.”

“Hmm,” said Rob, unconvinced.

They caught the bus to the long Term Car Park. It was quite crowded so they spent the journey in silence. Rob reflected on everything that had happened, and was not a little unsure of the future.

They bus dropped them off within a few metres of Tony’s Range Rover, so very soon they were heading into town. The plan was to drop ‘Katy’ off at Elm Park Gardens, liase with Tremaine senior, and then Tony was taking his fiancée down to his home in the shires.

Robert was pleased to see them. He was excited, as clearly developments had occurred while they had been in Paris.

“Everything is on hold until the meeting,” he told them. “The SFO and police are holding back and will wait for the end of the meeting. Ryan has been charged with conspiracy to kidnap and murder, he’s being held incommunicado at a police station. He was at court this morning and has been remanded back into police custody.”

This was especially exciting news, for it was Ryan who had engineered the false allegations against Robert all those years ago.

“So what do I do, Dad?” Rob asked.

“You must go to work as usual. This is a crucial time, as my cousin must be lulled into a false sense of security into believing that nothing is wrong.”

“Won’t he twig about Ryan?”

“Who knows? He is probably worrying more about the accounts being frozen. The SFO froze them to monitor them, but have released them now. The bank is cooperating and will state they had a mainframe closure.”

So, Tony and Pru left for Buckinghamshire, Pru looking more relaxed and at ease than Rob could ever remember. He felt faintly envious, and that made him think of Letty and then of Sheena.

His father went out, to meet with the SFO, so Rob sought Theresa in the sitting room.

“Why the long face, Rob?”

“I don’t know if I want this to end. In a way, it’s all I know.”

“Don’t look at it as an ending, but as a fresh start of a different part of your life.”

Rob sat down. Theresa smiled sadly, for he sat properly, as a young woman in a skirt.

“Theresa, what should I do?”

“I can’t answer that, only you can.”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have to ask.”

“In your heart, what do you want to do?”

“In my heart? I don’t know. Part of me wants to be Rob, to love Letty and live happily ever after. But another part of me wants to be Katie, to become as much a real woman as I can, and to take life one step at a time.”

“There is a third way,” Theresa said.

Rob frowned.

“What?”

Theresa told him.
 

*          *          *
 
‘Katie’ turned up on time for work on Tuesday. There seemed no difference at Tremaine Towers, and Rob completed the reports on the weekend’s meetings that Mike had asked him for.

In fact, everything was so ordinary, that rob was inclined to think that his father might have been mistaken. At lunchtime Sheena sought him out.

“What’s happened with your brother?” she asked.

“Why, what have you heard?”

“There’s a rumour he was kidnapped, and may be dead. But seeing you here, I suppose that’s all it is, a rumour.”

“Peter was involved in an attempted theft of a car from the car park. He saw someone trying to steal a car, and they thumped him, taking the car. They took him a mile or so and then dropped him off. He was slightly hurt and is having a few days off. That’s all.”

Sheena looked relieved.

“I’m glad he’s alright.”

“Thanks.”

“How was Paris?”

“Fine, it was fun.”

“Did the MD try to bed you?”

“No, he had a lot more on his mind.”

“Thanks for the other night, I think.”

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out like you’d hoped.”

“I’m still here, and you’re still talking to me,” Sheena said with a small smile.

“I still have some stuff to sort out, and don’t mean to fuck you about. I think it’s best we just leave things the way they are for a bit.”

Sheena nodded, clearly disappointed, and yet there was a little hope there for her.

“May I still be your friend?”

“Sheena, of course, but when this is all over, you may not want to be.”

Sheena frowned.

“Why?”

Rob smiled sadly.

“Let’s just say, I’m a very complicated individual,” he said.

“Aren’t we all?”

“Probably, but believe me, I am more than most.”

Sheena smiled uncertainly and left Rob alone once more. He shook his head sadly, there were going to be a lot of casualties after this was all over.

Wednesday was a repeat of Tuesday. Peter Marriott was officially sick, and Rob had to answer a few questions about his adventure, but once it proved to be quite minor, they dwindled to nil very quickly.

On Wednesday evening Letty called on the phone, and ‘Katie’ spent nearly an hour chatting to her. After the call was over, Rob retired to his room, and lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. His friendship with the other girl was one of the finest he’d ever had, and he knew that once the truth was out, that friendship was possibly never going to be the same again.

He didn’t know which he valued most, being Katie and her friend, or being Rob and her lover. He also kept trying to imagine what a lesbian relationship with Sheena would be like, and was coming to the conclusion that it was not destined to be either lasting or realistic.

There was a knock on his door.

He got of the bed and opened the door. His father stood there.

“Rob, may I come in?”

He opened the door and his father entered his room, sitting on the bed.

“Son, we need to talk.”
 

*          *          *
 
Thursday morning saw Theresa in the kitchen making breakfast. Robert came down and kissed her cheek.

“Good morning my dear, have you given any thought to what I said?”

She smiled.

“Robbie, we have known each other for years. I will, on one condition, the company comes second.”

He smiled.

“Done. You fix the day.”

She looked surprised, and then pleased.

Rob appeared, for the first time dressed as a male, in a smart dark suit, silk shirt and tie. His hair was very short, and he looked uncertain.

“Excellent, you look very smart my boy. Theresa, your hairdressing skills have not diminished over the years,” Robert said.

Rob smiled uncertainly.

Theresa handed him a full English breakfast.

He looked at it, and then at her.

“What’s the occasion?”

“First, you need building up, if you are to be the boy again, and secondly, why shouldn’t your future step-mother spoil you a little?”

He smiled.

“Congratulations. It seems everyone is getting settled except me.”

“That my boy is also up to you. I’m sure that Sir Charles would like his letter returned and Miss Letty would like the truth?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. What happens when she rejects me because of the deception and lies I’ve perpetuated?”

“My boy, believe me, Letty is an incurable romantic, she’ll love you all the more. Trust me.”

“Yeah, right,” said Rob, once more unconvinced.

They ate their breakfast, and Robert kept looking at his watch.

“Expecting someone?” Rob asked.

“Yes, at it happens. Your sister should be here soon, and I’m expecting a chap called Goodyer.”

“Is he a policeman?”

“No, he’s a Barrister, but he’s part of the SFO. We are all going together. You’ll need these,” he said, passing over some documents.

“What are they?”

“Proof that you own twenty three percent of Tremaine Holdings shares.”

“Twenty three percent? That’s quite a lot.”

“Pru has the same, and I have five percent.”

“How come?”

“I transferred most of my original twenty percent to you two early on. Then I’ve bought a little more over the years, in bits and bobs, just to keep them unsuspecting. So, the three of us now own fifty one percent of the shares, and therefore can outs the current board and management.”

“Ah!” said Robin, a light coming on.

“Why the subterfuge?”

“Because if he’d suspected that I was buying up all his shares, he’d have blocked me legally, and if that failed he’d have had us all bumped off. So, all my intrigues were for a purpose, believe me.”

There was some noise at the front door. Pru and Tony came in, closely followed by Graham Goodyer and another man, who was introduced as a Detective Superintendent Paul Gration from the Fraud Squad.

“All here, anyone for a tea or coffee before we go?” Robert asked. There were no takers. “Right, into the fray.”
 
 
Chapter 15 - Show Down
 
 
The extra large conference room on the sixteenth floor was huge, and very light. The long pale wood table gleamed as the sun reflected through the long windows and off the highly polished surface. The view across to the south side of the river was marvellous, with St. Paul’s Cathedral at the edge of the picture.

There was room for forty people around the table, and seating for twice that number at the sides of the room. Twenty had congregated so far. The board members took their places at the table, and the voting shareholders sat at the sides.

Anyone with more than four percent of the vote was permitted to take a seat at the table. He did not expect that many to appear, as a full mail drop had taken place with the take-over offer clearly explained. The board was recommending to shareholders to accept the offer, and so proxy votes would be sent in by those bothered to reply. As the deal meant a large cash incentive for all share holders, Mike was confident that it would be a resounding yes vote.

Mike Hatton was slightly agitated. Ryan had disappeared off the face of the map. Young Peter Marriott was not contactable, although he had reportedly called in sick, with some tale of being assaulted by a car thief.

The bank had apologised over the frozen account, it had been a computer glitch after all, but he was still uneasy.
 

*          *          *
 
Downstairs, in the reception area, Robert Tremaine and his party appeared at the desk.

The receptionist, Sonia Johnson, looked up.

“Good morning, sir, may I help you?”

“Yes, we’re here for the shareholders’ meeting.”

“If you could sign in, please,” she said, passing the visitors’ book across.

They all signed in.

“It’s on the sixteenth floor, please take the elevator on the right.”

He thanked her and they moved off in the direction of the elevator. There was a slim, fair-haired young man in the group. He smiled at her and she smiled back. He was a very good-looking guy, and his suit looked like a very expensive Italian one. He wasn’t that tall, but he had bags of charm.

As the lift door closed, she looked at the visitors’ book.

Robert Tremaine

Prudence Tremaine

Robin Tremaine

Sir Anthony Fanshaw

Graham Goodyer QC

Ch. Supt P Gration. MPS.

She blinked a couple of times.

Robin Tremaine, that was the nice young man.

Tremaine, that was the name of the company, she wondered whether there was a connection.

There was a junior clerk taking names and checking share holdings at the door. When the Tremaine party appeared, and he saw the amount of holdings they had, he became slightly nervous. However, he had no choice, but entered the details, and allowed them to enter the antechamber to the boardroom. Refreshments were laid out on a table by the window, and they each collected a cup of something warm and a biscuit.

Then they entered the boardroom itself.

Mike Hatton was staring out the window, and was alerted to their arrival by a gasp from one of the board members. David Achieson had known Robert Tremaine well, and had been surprised and disbelieving when it was alleged he had swindled the company of such a trifling figure. However, he’d stayed on out of loyalty to both Robert and his father.

As time had passed, the eighty year old was resigned to the fact that as he’d fled the country, Robert must have been guilty, but still was uncomfortable with the whole concept. Therefore, when Robert walked into the boardroom as bold as brass, he’d gasped in surprise.

Mike turned round at for a moment the two men locked eyes.

“You!”

“Indeed cousin, it is I.”

“You are not welcome here. I shall have the authorities informed, you are a wanted man.”

“That won’t be necessary, sir,” said the Superintendent, who then identified himself.

“Mr Tremaine is assisting us with certain enquiries and has invited us to this meeting. And, for your information, he is no longer wanted by the police, having satisfied us concerning his innocence of all allegations that were made.”

Mike stood and stared; there was absolute silence in the room. Old David Achieson broke the silence.

“Well I’ll be buggered, I knew you couldn’t have done it, Robbie boy. Welcome back.”

“Thank you David. It’s so good to see you too.”

Mike was still standing, his mind working overtime.

“Who are these people?” he demanded.

“How remiss of me, may I present my son, Robin, my daughter Prudence and her fiancé Sir Anthony Fanshaw, and these two gentlemen are, ah, here as my, ah, legal advisors.”

Pru turned to Tony.

“Sir Anthony?” she asked, sotto voce.

“Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

“You certainly will. Does this mean I’ll be Lady Fanshaw?”

“Never a lady, only a wench,” said her brother with a grin.

“May I call the meeting to order?” asked Mike.

Everyone took their seats, and much to mike’s distress, the three Tremaines sat at the table, signifying they had at least twelve percent of the voting stock.

“The point of this meeting is to discuss and vote on the offer of Tech-American to purchase Tremaine Industries. You have all been sent the board’s recommendation, so may I call upon you to vote as required?”

“Point of order, Mr Chairman.”

“Mr Tremaine?”

“Is there to be no discussion on the offer?”

Mike stared at his cousin, and if looks could kill, Robert would have died a thousand deaths.

“Is there any point? Most of this has been discussed at length by the board.”

“I just thought it would be wise for the minutes to show that opportunity was given to discuss the disposal of my father’s company by profiteering bastards, who have no thought for the loyal and hard working workforce. Some of these people have given decades in the service of this company, and for what? For a few greedy men to line their pockets at their expense.”

“You are out of order, sir!”

“Probably, but I have made my point.”

“Are there any more discussion points?”

No one raised their hands.

“In your folders are voting slips. Please enter your proportion of shares and your vote. The board recommends accepting the offer, so a yes vote would follow the board’s recommendation. A no vote would leave the company as it is.”

There was a time of silence, with papers being completed. One of the executives collected the voting papers, and retired to a desk at the side of the room. It didn’t take him long. With an ashen expression, he returned to Mike and handed him a single piece of paper.

Mike knew before he read it.

“Fifty eight against, and forty two in favour. The recommendation is not carried, and the offer is hereby refused.”

He sat down, defeated.

Robert looked at David Achieson, his seven percent had come at an opportune moment. Robert stood up.

“Mr Chairman, I propose a vote of no confidence in the board and with the senior management of this company.”

“Seconded!” said David.

“It is therefore placed before the shareholders present to vote, that the incumbent board and senior management team be stripped of their positions and required to resign. Effective immediately.”

The clerk hurriedly started to get the papers together.

“That will not be necessary, a show of hands will suffice.”

Four hands raised, Robert’s, David’s, Pru’s and Robin’s. Representing the same fifty eight percent.

“Damn you!” said Mike, looking grey and quite ill.

Robert ignored him completely.

“As the chairman has just stood down, I’d like to propose a new chairman and chief executive of Tremaine Industries. My son Robin Tremaine.”

Robin looked aghast at his father.

The votes were cast, and Robin found himself the new chairman.

“May I respectfully suggest to the chairman, that he should appoint the new senior management team and new board. I’ve taken the liberty in completing a list for you.”

Robert was enjoying himself immensely. He passed a list to the dazed young man, who looked at it and passed it to David.

“Please sort this out. I need to speak to my father.”

“That, ladies and gentlemen, is the end of the meeting, if there is no other business, then I declare the meeting closed. Tremaine Industries has a Tremaine at the helm once more.”

Graham and the Superintendent shook Robert’s hand before closing in on the pale Michael Hatton.

“Michael Hatton, I’m arresting you for deception, theft, conspiracy to kidnap, to murder and several cases of false accounting, you do not have to say anything, but……”

Several of the shareholders approached Robert and shook his hand. Robert was pleasant with all, and as the sacked executives slunk out of the room, he looked out across the Thames.

“A good day’s work,” he announced.

“Dad, what’s this about being chief executive?”

“I can’t give it to Pru, she’s going to be a farmer’s wife and have loads of squealing brats.”

Pru giggled and hugged her husband to be.

“But, it’s your company,” said Robin.

“No, it’s a Tremaine company. It was passed to me for safe-keeping and I lost it. I am not worthy to hold it; besides, I’m too old and tired. I’ve made recovering it my life’s work, and now that is accomplished, I can pass it on as my father did to me.”

“I’m not ready, I’m too young.”

“I agree. The men and women on that board, and the management team I suggest will do the job while you become older and wiser. Just don’t take too long about it!”

“But Dad, what about you?”

“I will caretaker it for five years, and then I am retiring completely. Is that fair?”

Robin grinned.

“Fair.”

“Now, isn’t there a man you have to see about a letter?”
 

*          *          *
 
Sir Charles Greyson was concerned. Firstly, over an alleged letter that that cad Markham alluded to, and yet never surfaced when the police searched his home and car. He knew of the letter, and was, as Robert surmised, embarrassed but not desperately afraid of any serious consequences should it surface in the public arena.

He was more concerned about his daughter. Ever since that blasted fancy dress ball, she’d been in a dizzy state over a boy. He knew his daughter and had seen what she’d been like with a series of young men, Markham amongst them, but never had she been quite so potty.

She was not doing any work at college, except dreaming about her young man. Whenever he challenged her about him she just smiled and said, “I don’t know,” to every question.

It was therefore some surprise to him when James announced that a Robin Tremaine was in the drawing room, and had called to see him about a confidential matter.

“Tremaine? Is this another one of Robert Tremaine’s offspring?”

“I’m sure I don’t know sir, but if I should hazard a guess, then I should say that is a likely conclusion.”

He made for the drawing room, aware that Letty was not yet home from college, though why she bothered going was beyond him. He entered the room to see a slight but fit looking young man standing looking at the portrait of his late wife.

He was very smartly dressed in a dark suit, had short fair hair and had an easy manner. He turned as he entered.

“Sir Charles, it’s good of you to see me. I’m Robin Tremaine, you’ve met my father and sister, I believe?”

“Yes, how do you do? Is your father well?”

They shook hands.

“Very well. And my sister sends her regards. She has just become engaged to Sir Anthony Fanshaw, with whom I believe you are also acquainted?”

“Indeed, I am. Tony’s a cousin of mine. My congratulations to them both.”

“Thank you sir. However, I am here today on a double mission. My first is to return something to you which I believe you should take care to dispose of properly.” With that he took out the letter and passed it over.

Sir Charles read the letter and frowned.

“How came you by this?”

“Sir, that day when Letty was kidnapped, it was I who followed and effected her release. It was I who traced the letter, and it was I who saw to the arrest of the man responsible.”

“You? But Letty described someone completely different.”

“That was my fault. I was at the time also engaged in a covert operation against a fraudster, and could not afford to have my identity generally known or my appearance disclosed. It would have compromised my operation.”

“You are a policeman?”

“No. I am, as from this morning, the chief executive and chairman of Tremaine Industries. I’m sorry it is not such a glamorous occupation.”

Sir Charles was reeling. He walked over to the coal fire, and threw the letter onto it, watching the paper darken, crumple and then ignite.

“You said a double mission?”

“Yes sir. You may be aware that your daughter has been distracted of late over a young man for whom she declares undying love?”

Sir Charles smiled.

“Yes, but this is hardly unusual.”

“I’m sorry for that, sir, for I am here to inform you that that man is me, and I seek permission to ask for her hand in marriage.”

Sir Charles sat down.

He fully expected this sophisticated and educated young man to tell him that he knew whom the man was, but never did he expect that it was to be someone as eligible as he.

“You?” he repeated, unnecessarily.

“I, sir.”

“In this day and age, it isn’t really necessary to ask my permission.”

“Sir, my father has taught me many things. Most of which are completely useless, but he has taught me some old values, which have a sound basis in common sense and good manners. So with your permission, may I address Letty?”

“Robin, is it?”

“I prefer Rob, sir.”

“Then Rob it is. Please don’t keep calling me sir; it makes me feel older than I am. My name is Charles, and if you are to be my son-in-law, then I would prefer you use my name.”

“I hesitate to do so, for she may yet refuse me.”

Sir Charles started to laugh.

“My Boy, how well do you know my daughter?”

“I like to think, very well.”

“Then how do you think she’ll react?”

Rob smiled.

“I’d like to think she’ll accept.”

“So do I, now all you have to do is ask. She’s due back any minute. I have to thank you for the letter. I am indebted to you and your family.

“It’s a pleasure, sir, sorry, Charles.”

The banging of the front door alerted them to the arrival of the girl in question.

“Daddy, who’s car is that….?” She started saying as she walked into the drawing room. She stared at the smart young man with her father.

“Ah, Letty, this is young Robin Tremaine. His father has helped me out of a business pickle. I have to make a phone call, see if he’d like a drink or something.”

Sir Charles winked at Rob and left them alone, closing the door as he left.

Letty stood staring at the man. There was something achingly familiar about him.

“Hello Letty, remember me?” he asked, with a smile.

It was his voice. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt the warmth rise in her whole being.

“You!”

He nodded, opening his shirt to show her the dragon.

“You’ve come for me?”

He nodded again.

“Where will you take me?”

He laughed.

“You would go with me, just like that? Knowing nothing about me?”

“I love you, I’ll go wherever you want me to, what more is there?”

“Oh Letty, you really are potty!”

He walked towards her, and taking her hands in his, he kissed her.

The kiss went on and on. Two souls met and mingled, and a deep certainty settled on Rob. For the first time in his mixed up life he now knew what he wanted.

He broke off from the kiss.

“Letty, I came to ask you to marry me, but first I have to ask you to forgive me.”

“What for?”

“I have not been entirely honest with you.”

She frowned.

“How?”

“Look at me, Letty, see if you can guess.”

She stared at him frowning.

“What?” she asked.

“When I said I know you, why do you think that was?”

She shook her head; her dark curls bouncing as she did so.

“You know me, Letty, you know me well.”

“You could be another brother of Katie and Peter Marriott.”

“Very close, but wrong. Look again.”

She looked, and the frown became deeper. She started to shake her head.

“No, you can’t be. It’s not possible!”

“What’s not possible?”

“You can’t be her, she’s a woman!”

“Tell me, what do you see?”

“There’s no way you could be Katie, no way at all.”

He simply stood and smiled. She saw that it was true. He had the same eyes, the same smile.

“But Katie is a woman.”

“Is she, Letty?”

“How, why?” she said.

“It’s a long story; it started before I was born……”

When he’d finished, he took her hand.

“You see, I don’t deserve you, I have lived a lie and deceived you.”

“Oh my God! The things I must have said to you, and the changing booths out shopping!” Her hand went to her mouth as she remembered stripping down to her knickers whilst shopping with Katie.

“I swear to you, you said nothing to me that was out of place, and as for the shopping, maybe that’s why I came to love you.”

“You love me?”

“I do. I want you for my wife, please?”

She smiled and nodded.

“On one condition?”

“What?”

“Katie was my best friend, can Katie come shopping with me sometimes?”

Rob grinned and kissed her.

“I’ll have to ask her, but I’m sure she’d be delighted.”
 
 
Epilogue - A Family At Peace
 
 
Robert put down his newspaper, and finished his breakfast. The headlines made very interesting reading.
 
 

TYCOON CHEATED FOR 30 YEARS

Millionaire businessman Michael HATTON appeared in court today facing several charges going back nearly thirty years.     After a dramatic showdown with his missing cousin, Robert Tremaine, during a board meeting last month, Hatton was arrested with other senior executives of Tremaine Industries. The board of directors and senior executives were all sacked when Tremaine turned up with his son Robin (22) and daughter Prudence (24), who now possess over fifty percent of the company shares.     Having been framed by Hatton for embezzlement back in 1979, Tremaine jumped bail and left the country. He has spent the last twenty-five years planning his revenge.     Mr Tremaine’s house in Berkshire, had been used by Mr Hatton, was last night back in his hands.

A spokesman for the Serious Fraud Office said, “Mr Tremaine approached us in possession of compelling evidence that it was Hatton and not he who had been responsible for the initial offence, and our investigations have shown that many more offences have been committed by officers of the company over the last two to three decades.”     Six people have been arrested, more charges are expected soon.     Robert Tremaine is now taking control of his company once more, as a caretaker for his son, who is being groomed for the job. Robin, who has recently become engaged to Letitia Greyson, daughter of Sir Charles Greyson was unavailable for comment. Mr Tremaine said, “I am just pleased that justice is being done.”     Hatton was remanded in custody having been committed for trial at the Crown court.

 
 
“Altogether very satisfying, my dear,” he said to Theresa.

“It’s hard to think it was only a month ago that you had that meeting.”

“And look what’s happened since. I have my home back, my business back and my children are finally getting settled. I have married a beautiful woman, so what more could a man want?”

“I am so pleased for Robin. He seems so much more fulfilled somehow.”

“I know, and I have to confess to being seriously worried about the poor lad. It was too much what I expected of him. It is a testimony to his strength of character that he has turned out as well adjusted as he has.”

Theresa simply smiled.

“As for Pru, the wedding is in four weeks, she wants to be a June Bride.”

“She’ll be a March mother then,” said Theresa.

Robert frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Robert, that girl wants children, lots of them, and I guarantee she’ll start as soon as she can.”

“Oh, I had hopes she’d finish her legal training. I always fancied having a barrister in the family.”

“Robert, sometimes you can be so blind. She’s to be a farmer’s wife, she adores the life and she’ll only be happy with about eight children hanging around her.”

“Could be worse, I suppose.”
 

*          *          *
 
The woman in question was practicing for that day, as she and Tony made love in the huge bed in his Buckinghamshire home. The couple had hardly left each other’s side in all the time since the board meeting that altered their fortunes forever.

Tony took her everywhere, and she found immediate acceptance amongst those in the local vicinity, on the farms and nearby. Sir Tony, as he was known, was considered a real local gent, and she immediately filled the accepted idea of his good lady. She’d already become known in the local pub as ‘Lady Pru’.

Their days were filled with companionship and laughter, their nights with passion and pure unmitigated love. They were true soul mates, and neither yearned for anything else in life.
 

*          *          *
 
Letty tried on the dress, she wasn’t sure if it suited her. After looking in the mirror, she approached her companion, a stunning blonde girl.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Hmm, isn’t it a little tight across the shoulders?”

“Just a bit, do you like it?”

“It wouldn’t suit me.”

“No, do you like me in it?”

“I adore you in it, but I’d prefer you out of it!”

Letty giggled and the two girls kissed. The sales assistant looked away, embarrassed.

“Go on then, buy it, and we can have fun getting you out of it later.”

Letty giggled again, stripping off in front of her friend. She struggled to pull her jeans on, and then her top. The pair of them approached the checkout with the dress.

The assistant looked faintly disapproving.

Letty paid and they left, but Letty couldn’t restrain herself any longer. She burst out into a terrible fit of giggling.

“She thought you were a girl!” she said.

“So, that’s nothing, she thought you were a lesbian.”

Letty stopped and kissed her friend, and they became quite passionate. Two suited businessmen almost collided as they were watching the two girls and not where they were going.

The girls laughed, linked arms, and walked off down the road. Rob smiled; perhaps Theresa’s third way could work after all.

---

 
FIN?