My stepfather or shall I say bigamous stepfather and murderer of my mother looked smug as he stood in the dock.

Working Girl ~ Life Goes On!

By Susan Brown

You may want to read the thrilling non stop original Working Girl first, cos if you don't, you'll have no idea what the story is about, and now on with the show...

Chapter 1

I sat at the back of the court watching those funny men and women in strange wigs pontificating and posturing in front of the jury.

My stepfather or shall I say bigamous stepfather and murderer of my mother looked smug as he stood in the dock.

He was older than I remember, grey hair now flecked the once jet black hair. Perhaps he used Grecian 2000 before? Anyway, the barristers were finishing their summing up and it was all over bar the shouting.

I paid little attention to what they were saying, being more interested in the reaction to all this on my ex step daddy.

He had this sort of smirk on his face, as if he knew that he was going to be found not guilty. He kept looking up at me; that cruel smile playing on his thin lips. I stared at him, hoping that his eyes would fall in guilt of the terrible crimes that he had committed, but no, once an arse hole always an arse hole.

The barristers stopped their bleating and the old fart of a judge said more than a few words to the jury and then they filed out and Sheila and I left the building for a well-deserved lunchypoo at the sandwich shop around the corner from the court.

As we sat and munched on our salad sandwiches, mayo oozing out of the sides, I was a bit quiet. Sheila’s noticed this.

‘Penny for them?’

‘Oh just thinking.’

‘About what?’

‘My life and how things have gone.’

‘Blimey, that’s a bit heavy.’

‘Yes, I suppose so. A lot’s happened over the past year.’

‘You tell me.’

‘You already know.’

‘It was a figure of speech.’

‘Mmm.’

I took a sip of my capo...more froth than drink and I was off in la-la land again.

After the scum ball Roger was sent down for various misdemeanours and sent to Pentonville Prison to break rocks, sow mailbags bend over for hunky prisoners — you know stuff like that, my life got a bit better.

My uncle helped a lot by letting me loose on the HR or Human Resources. Pippa was great and helped me in her scatter-brained way to get over the traumatic things that had happened to me and I thrived in helping the staff with their problems. Everyone said I had a good ear, not sure which one, but you get the picture.

I really enjoyed being a girl and I suppose I went a bit overboard with Laura Ashley clothes and mega girlieness. My heals got so high that I was up in the clouds and Sheila spent most of the time trying to tame my feminine beast. Not being into half measures, I was wearing enough makeup to hold up the Tyne Bridge and to be honest I didn’t care. I copied Phillipa and the other girls and started wearing sunglasses perched on top of my head, even going to bed in them. I started wearing ultra short skirts. They got so short that you could clearly see my silky panties. Anyway, not stopping there, my tops got somewhat briefer as well; exposing my belly button was now the norm and I was fast becoming a health and safety hazard to any brickie working on a building site — you know, strained necks and other things.

Anyway, I suppose inevitably reaction set in and one day I woke up in my see through girlie pink baby doll and looking down at myself, Percy had decided to wake up and have a stiffie. I threw a bit of a wobbly. I saw myself as someone just playing with the idea of being a girl. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and totally lost it. I just saw a boy dressed up as a girl and I suddenly hated me and all I stood for.

I ripped my clothes off and dragged out my dust covered boy stuff from the back of the wardrobe. In no time, I was all sort of grungy, wearing scratchy jeans and black tee shirts. I got some gel stuff and slicked back my long hair. I wasn’t any happier but I thought that was doing the right thing by being a boy again.

In a fit of angst, I ran into the garden and threw all my girls clothes in a pile, including my lacy bras and set light to them. Watching the flames roar as the flame retardant clothes went up in smoke made me feel liberated; I didn’t need to look like a girl any more and that’s how I wanted it. I didn’t need to take several hours to get dressed and made up. I could get ready in five minutes flat and not bother to shave and wash if I didn’t want to. In short, I could be a perhaps smelly but manly man again.

All this sort of made Sheila a bit unhappy with me, as the deal was that I could stay with her as long as I was a girl. I was now presenting as a boy and Sheila told me to change back to the real girl I was or get lost.

I got lost and moved back to my parent’s house, which, if you have been paying attention and not falling asleep, was now mine.

Well, to cut a long story very short, I soon realised that I could not change the past. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw Toni and not Tony. They say clothes maketh the man, but in my case it didn’t make me one.

It took three days of soul searching, not to mention several bottles of Chá¢teau Crap before I finally rang Sheila and asked her to rescue me.

‘About bloody time,’ was all she said as she swept into my house and gave me a cuddle fierce enough to raise the dead.

It was decided that as she was so totally peed off with her landlord, the odious Davis, she should move in with me and to that end we were as happy as pigs in the proverbial manure.

I started wearing girls’ clothes again and felt happier than I had in ages.

I abandoned the Laura Ashley and tarty look and started wearing stuff that was somewhat less flowery and more teenage like. I also toned down the make-up by several inches and I think that I looked the better for it.

All in all I was now fairly happy. Only the oncoming trial of Step Daddy From Hell had marred my happiness and now the trial was over and all we needed to hear was the verdict, but why was my heart all aflutter and how come I was all depressed?

‘So what’s the prob kid?’

I looked at Sheila. I wished that I were so self-assured as she was. One look from her, quietened down the most inebriated drunk in casualty.

‘It’s just…’

‘What.’

‘What if he gets off?’

‘He won’t.’

‘He might.’

‘No he won’t. Look it’s open and shut. He is more guilty than Judas,’

‘Who?’

‘Look in the bible.’

‘Right…’

‘Anyway, to change the subject subtly, fancy going to the flics tonight?’

‘What’s on?’

‘Don’t know, we can go to the multiplex, there’s bound to be something we like.’

‘I don’t know if I can think about tonight. What will I do if he gets off?’

‘Well, I can think of twenty things we can do on him with a knitting needle.’

‘Violence doesn’t answer everything.’

‘I know,’ she sighed, ‘it’s the beast in me, I try to be nice but it’s just not in my nature when you are dealing with testosterone filled men who think that they are God’s gift to women.’

‘You are supposed to be a nurse; you know Florence Nightingale and stuff.’

‘So, the point is?’

‘Aren’t you supposed to save life, not kick the living whatsit out of it?’

‘Not pond life.’

‘What have you got against goldfish?’

‘Who said anything about goldfish, I was thinking more of slugs.’

‘I don’t know if slugs live in ponds.’

‘I don’t either but the are wet and slimy and that just about sums up your ex step dad.’

I sighed again and munched my sandwich. Nothing was going to cheer me up until this ordeal was over.

It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that the jury came back into court. I looked at them as they filed in. I had read somewhere that if the jury didn’t look at the accused, then he or she was guilty. About half did and half didn’t; what the hell did that mean?

We all stood up as the judge came in.

After he sat down and we did the same, the usher stood up and turned to the jury.

‘Defendant and leader of the jury, please rise.’

The head jury person and slime ball stood up.

The usher coughed and then spoke.

‘Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict you are all agreed upon?’

‘Yes.’

‘Regarding the murder of Elizabeth Roberts nee Summers, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?’

‘Guilty.’

There was a gasp around the court and the judge had to call for silence.

‘Is this verdict upon which you are all agreed?’

‘Yes.’

I looked at the man who had killed my mother and saw that he had collapsed in tears. His veneer of superiority had left him. He looked ten years older and not a little but pathetic. Was I sorry for him? No.

After things had settled down again, he was made to stand.

‘David Roberts, you have been found guilty of the most heinous crime of murder. You show few signs of remorse and judging by the fact that you have not assisted the police in any way or pleaded guilty to the charge, I have little sympathy for you. Sentencing will take place after I have received various reports. You will appear before me in one week’s time. I have to warn you, subject to these reports that I propose a very lengthy sentence for this terrible crime. Also, there are other charges to be satisfied at another date, which need to be answered. Further, police in Australia and New Zealand have requested that you be extradited to answers charges in those countries. Now take him down.’

As he was led from the dock, he looked at me. The look of hate made me recoil in horror, and then he was gone, shouting his innocence as he was taken to the cells below the dock.

As Sheila and I walked out into the bright sunshine, I felt a weight leave me. I was free of him now and I could get on with the rest of my life.

‘I say…Miss!’

We turned around and there was our friendly policemen.

‘Hello boys,’ said Sheila.

‘He’s got his comeuppance then.’

‘We knew that the scumbag was going to cop it. He’s going to be in the slammer for a long stretch.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Enough said. Need any help, just call the local nick Bye.’

Then they were off. Will I see them again? Probably, knowing the scrapes that I get into.

A few minutes later, we were sitting down having yet another capo and deciding what to do next.

‘You know something Sheila?’

‘What.’

I am due some holidays and I know that you haven’t had one for yonks. Shall we have a holiday?’

‘Where, I can’t afford much on my meagre wage.’

‘Oh it’s on me. I’m well off now and I just want to get away from things.’

‘Well if you are sure. I like the idea of not paying and I never look a gift horse in the mouth.’

‘Why not?’

‘Why not, what?’

‘Why don’t you look a gift horse in the mouth?’

‘Erm…bad breath? Any way where do you want to go and what do you want to do, find a beach somewhere and cook our bodies; go skiing, what?’

‘Don’t laugh but I fancy a cruise.’

‘All those old wrinklies!’

‘I saw a program the other day. Cruises have changed. It’s quite the fashion now; young people go and there are lots of things to do. Some of the larger ships are almost like mini cities. Tons of discos and bars, dancing till you drop, food you can die for, plenty of free drinks, that sort of thing and exotic locations…it will be great!’

‘Any men?’

‘I suppose so, more than you can handle.’

‘I’m still off men, but I suppose it’s curable - you’re on, where’s my sailors hat?’

To be continued...

Please leave a comment...thanks

The judge looked at his papers again and then looked at the man who ruined my life.

Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 2

By Susan Brown

Chapter 2

We approached the docks at Southampton from a taxi. We had taken a train from home and picked up the taxi from the station. Both Sheila and I were a bit quiet. Understandably, I kept looking over my shoulder. Were we being followed? I didn’t know, but there was a constant prickling at the back of my head making me feel as if we were being watched.

I was thinking of the recent events and the fact that we nearly had to cancel our holiday.

It was only yesterday that we were back in court for the sentencing of ex Step Daddy. His slippery lawyers had done everything but appeal to the Queen for mitigating circumstances, diminished responsibility and other rubbish. The sentencing had been put off three times, but eventually he was back in the dock looking angelic, shamefaced, remorseful and anything else that his slimy, slick suited legal team had coached him on.

I sat up in the gallery with Sheila holding my hand for support.

The Judge came in and we all rose and then sat down again when he did.

He shuffled some papers, took a sip of water, gin, vodka or whatever and then the usher spoke.

‘Will the accused please stand.’

He stood up, looking meek, or a poor impression of it anyway.

The judge looked at his papers again and then looked at the man who ruined my life.

‘David Roberts, I have already said what I think of you and I will not elaborate on that. After seeing the various reports and receiving information from Australia regarding your activities there, I have come to the conclusion that you are a man who has no morals and are a danger to the public. I feel constrained to pass a sentence to reflect that. You callously murdered your wife and defrauded her child of the family inheritance. You are beneath contempt and I will show you as much mercy as you gave your wife. I have no hesitation in sentencing you to life in prison with a recommendation that you will spend a minimum of 25 years without possibility of parole. As stated before, there are charges that have been made against you in other countries and further sentences may apply at a later date. Is there anything you wish to say to the court?’

He looked over at me. Even dressed as I was, he somehow knew who I was.

‘I have only one thing to say and that is Tony, you are as good as dead!’

Everyone in the gallery gasped at the threat and the judge had to bang his hammer several times to get silence.

‘Take him away.’

I blanched as I looked at his hate filled face. As he was taken down, he didn’t take his eyes off of me. I felt dread to the bottom of my stomach. I wanted to be sick. What had I done to him and why did he feel this way about me?

I felt a tug at my arm.

‘Come on, lets get out of this.’

I followed Sheila out of the courtroom and in a few minutes, we were sitting drinking some restorative coffee.

‘What will he do?’

‘Toni, you don’t have to worry about him. He can’t get at you now.’

‘He can get someone else to kill me.’

‘Not without money and everything has been taken away from him.’

‘Still…’

‘Look, it’s not unusual for people to blurt things out like that as they leave court. I’ve seen it lots of times on TV. In fact it’s unusual if they don’t say something nasty. Now are you going to sit there feeling sorry for your self or are we going to pack for the holiday. We’re going tomorrow.’

So here we were going into the docks after a hell of a week. I saw just one ship at the docks and wasn’t very impressed.

‘Bit small isn’t it?’

The taxi driver laughed.

‘You’ve got to be joking haven’t you?’

We got a bit nearer and then squinting, I saw some ants on one of the decks; I suddenly realised that those ants were people and the ship was ginormouse!

‘Bugger me with a pitchfork!’ I said without thinking.

Sheila tutted me.

‘That is not the way a young lady speaks.

‘You do it all the time.’

‘Who said I was a lady?’

Point taken.

I looked up at the white sides of The Princess Chelsy.

There was countless decks reaching up to the sky and finished off with four huge funnels like candles on an impressive birthday cake. It would take all day for me to count all the portholes, so I didn’t bother.

The ship could carry nearly 4000 passengers had four ballrooms, a West End Theatre, countless cinemas and on nearly every passenger deck there was a disco and at least one bar. You could either get fit in the four huge swimming pools and six gyms or kill yourself with the incredible choice of food and drink in the multitude of restaurants and bars.

The taxi dropped us off at the reception area and in no time, we were being booked in.

There were what appeared to be hundreds of people milling around waiting to go through customs. There was a bit of a delay due to the heightened security. I was a bit worried about my passport as it said I was a him when I had been booked in as a her.

I pulled Sheila over to relatively quit corner and told her of my concern.

‘Look Sheila, I’m worried I might get caught and slung into jail or something and no way do I want a rectal examination.’

‘Don’t worry, it will be OK.’

‘But do I look homogenized enough to get away with it?’

‘Homogenized, oh you mean androgynous. Well you are wearing jeans and a tee shirt and your hair is in a ponytail. I think that you look a bit, shall we say effeminate but you will get away with it. You might want to pop in the ladies and take off your makeup, earrings, bracelets, bra and false boobs, other than that, you will be OK. As soon as we go on board, you can slip into the toilet and put everything back on again.’

‘Who’s idea was this?’

‘Yours.’

‘I told you I was thick, why didn’t you listen to me?’

‘What and loose the chance of a bit of nookie on board a ship full of men wearing sailor suits. Are you mad?’

‘You’re disgusting and you a nurse too.’

‘Look, I’ve tried doctors and I had a stab at airline pilots, if this doesn’t work, I’ll try the army and failing that, there is a nice rugby team down the road from us. I’m bound to find someone from the first fifteen that is up to my high standard.’

I shook my head and made my way over to the ladies. I had to queue; what a surprise, but eventually I shut myself in the cubicle and using a little mirror from my rucksack and some cold cream, I ungirliefied myself.

I took off my bra and false breasts and stuffed them in the rucksack. Then I flushed the loo and went to see where Sheila had gone to.

Luckily, she was chatting up a tall dark stranger, so I found her easily enough.

As I walked over; she was giving him a piece of paper and after kissing her on the cheek, he walked away with a smile on his face.

‘I can’t leave you for two minutes.’

‘One, you have been ten minutes, two, you can talk and C don’t confuse me. Now lets give you the Sheila once over.’

She looked at me from top to bottom like some sort of medical scanner, she then got a tissue from her bag and dabbed the corner of one of my eyes, it came away black.

‘You’ll do; right they are letting people through now, shall we go?’

‘OK,’ I said reluctantly.

‘Hang on, I nearly forgot,’

‘What.’

‘They are going to search the bags. What have you got in there that might show them you are something different?’

‘Different…oh.’

I blushed as after quickly looking around, I then transferred my boobettes and other stuff to Sheila’s bag.

‘Phew, that was close.’ I said with relief.

We joined the long queue and eventually, my bag was being zapped through the security x ray. The burly customs man rummaged about in my bag and then handed it back to me. I smiled nervously, but he didn’t notice. Then after Sheila got hers through without any bells and whistles, we went up to one of the passport control desks.

This was the bit I was dreading. I just knew that I had this sort of guilty; I’m a bomber or mad axe murderer face on. I handed over my passport and he scrutinised it a bit, looked at my face and then looked at the picture again. My heart started going all floppy on me and I was coming over all unnecessary.

‘You’ve changed a bit.’

I said, ‘yes,’ in my deepest manliest voice that sounded as if I had just had a lungful of helium — more Minnie Mouse than Rambo —then I just went red and shut up.

His lip curled slightly.

‘Hmm, you may want to get your passport photo updated, erm Sir.’

He stamped it, gave me a rather unsavoury sort of, what I’ve found on the sole of my shoe, look and I was on my way,

My heart was in my mouth and I lost no time in looking to see if there was any medical facilities I could find where I could quietly have my heart attack without too much fuss.

Sheila joined me and we walked up the gangplank or whatever the called it and into the bowels of the ship. I kept looking around. I still felt uneasy, as if I was being watched. Is this what it’s like if you forget to renew your TV licence?

As we went through the large metal doors, my jaw dropped.

To say my gasted was flabbered would be an understatement. We entered into a large hall like area. There were desks dotted about and men and women in pseudo-naval uniforms and shiny plastic smiles ushering people to the desks for processing.

Sheila steered me over to the left and we found ourselves in a posh ladies loo. Gilt and gold plated stuff abounded and more marble than Elgin ever had. This, I imagined, was what the Queen’s loo was like, though I heard a rumour that the Queen doesn’t need to use toilets, mind you, it was in The Daily Planet and they keep saying that Elvis is alive and working in McDonalds.

Luckily the place was empty and we went over to the huge mirror, tastefully backlit to catch all your nooks and crannies, and Sheila slapped some makeup on me. In less time than it takes to soft boil an egg (three minutes if you like it really runny) I was back to being Toni again. I disappeared into the loo; it had wooden seats so my bum didn’t have to get too cold.

I had a noisy wee (I hate that don’t you?) then, after pulling up my panties and jeans I put my bra and blancmonges back in the cups. I squeaked a bit as the cold pink breastie stuff touched my bare skin. As you can see I have the female terminal…ternimoil….erm, stuff off pat.

Soon, I was out of the loo and following Sheila to the nearest desk.

‘Hi, how may I help you today?’

‘We need to find our cabins.’

‘Of course Madam…’

‘It’s Miss.’

‘Sorry, it’s been a long day. Can I have your names please?’

Sheila told her.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, you are in the wrong place.’

‘WHAT!’

I slunked back a bit; not wanting to be in the fallout of a Sheila rant. I felt sorry for the girl, but you don’t mess with Sheila without body armour.

‘You misunderstand, Mad…erm…Miss; you are first class passengers, did you not here your names being called?’

Sheila climbed back down from the chandeliers.

‘No, we were in the Ladies.’

‘That’s quite understandable. Excuse me for a mo?’

She picked up a phone and whispered into it. Then putting it down again she turned to us.

A member of the crew will be here in a moment…aah there he is.’

We turned around and saw a young boy, scarcely older than me walk up. He was wearing a bellboy type uniform, covered with gold or more probably brass buttons. He had a trademark cheeky grin on his face and yes a cockney accent.

‘Ullo ladies. Would yer likes ter follow me?’

We followed as the cheeky chappie talked nineteen to the dozen at us. God knows what he was talking about, as I only understood every third word.

We went up in a lift along a corridor up another lift until I swear we would be out on the roof or something. I thought of the Titanic and how far some of the passengers fell for some reason but luckily, we got off at yet another corridor. I was very impressed at then splendour of everything. Deep red carpets deadened our footsteps. The walls had tasteful paper on them and the ceilings would not have looked out of place in the Sistine chapel.

We came to a door and the bellboy — who I believe was named Arfer or something, swiped a card through a slit thingy on the door frame. The door clicked and opened. Arfer let us in, waving us through and followed on behind.

The room was vast. In fact it was a series of rooms — what Arfer called, ‘a sweet.’

‘I’ll er leave yer to ave a look round. If yer needs a hand give us a buzz on the jellybone.’

‘Do you need a tip?’ said the ever-practical Sheila.

‘Naa. Gives us somefin before yer goes home. Same goes for all the crew. Bye!’

He left us to ourselves.

We were oohing and aahing as we saw that we had a room each with en suite bathrooms and baths that you could have held a syncronised swim in. Next to the each bathroom, were some walk in wardrobes bigger than my flat in the odious Davis’s tenement.

There were two reception rooms, each big enough told a seriously large party in and
after jumping up and down on the beds and looking in drawers and stuff, we walked over to a large curtain and I pulled the cord. The curtains swished silently back.

‘Bloody hell!’ said Sheila.

I said nothing as words failed me. All we could see was the docks and beyond — the ocean. The view from here was to die for. We were not overlooked and we could sit out there naked if we wanted as no one would see us. Not that I would of course.

‘I don’t understand.’ I said.

‘What?’

‘I paid for economy.’

‘If this is economy, what the hell is first class?’

‘No the girl with the plastic grin said we were in first class. I was to far out of it to realise.’

‘Perhaps we’ve had an upgrade?’

‘There’s upgrades and there’s this.’ I said waving my arms about.

We went back inside. It was Sheila who noticed.

‘What’s this?’ she said walking over to the side where there was a marble table, with some champagne and glasses on a silver tray. In front of the open bottle was a sealed envelope. It had ‘Toni.’ on the front.

I tore open the envelope. Inside was a handwritten note. Sheila looked over my shoulder as I read.

Dear Toni,

I hope you like the surprise and the liberty I have taken to upgrade you. My brother has caused you so much heartache and I am sorry for that. I hope that this slight deception helps a bit to take the pain away and for you and Sheila to enjoy your holiday. I have left Two Thousand Pounds each for you to spend on what you like and I will be seriously annoyed if there is anything left at the end of your cruise.

What I said to you before is true. I consider myself to be your uncle. I do not have many relatives and in the short time that I have known you, I have grown to love you almost as a father. If you can reciprocate by being my loving niece, all the better.

Have a nice time and when you have had your holiday, come back to work as Pippa and everyone else here is already missing you.

All My Love

Uncle Peter

I burst into tears as Sheila just said, ‘Awwww.’

To be continued...

Please leave a comment...thanks

The soapy suds were up to my chin and the Jacuzzi jets were doing strange things to my delicate flesh; in short I was in heaven.


Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 3

By Susan Brown

Chapter 3

I sunk back in the bath and went ‘aaaah.’

The soapy suds were up to my chin and the Jacuzzi jets were doing strange things to my delicate flesh; in short I was in heaven.

I reached out a damp hand, picked up the fluted glass and took a sip of sparkling champagne.

This was living in the lap of luxury with a sugar Uncle to thank. He was not really a sugar Uncle, just the nearest thing to a close relative I had and his sweet gesture to put Sheila and me here, in the lap of luxury, made me love him all the more. It also made me wonder if he came out of the same womb as my crappy ex step dad (may he rot in jail).

Anyway, I stopped thinking such unpleasant thoughts put my glass down and sort of drifted away…

‘Toni, wake up in there.’

I jumped slightly as I woke up suddenly.

‘Hello?’ I said yawning.

Sheila was talking from behind the closed door.

‘What you doing in there?’

‘Waking up.’

‘Well, get yourself out of the bath, you’ll get all wrinkly. You have ten minutes to dry yourself off and get in here.’

‘Why, what’s up.’

‘We need to have a good look around and see where the action is.’

‘I don’t need action, I’m quite happy in here sipping champers and getting slightly squiffy.’

‘You’ve only had one glass, are you a girl or a mouse?’

‘Eek!’

‘Listen, I didn’t come here to sit around. We need to get out there and stir things up a bit.’

‘Do we have to?’ Even to me, my voice sounded a bit whiny, but to hell with it. I was on holiday and wasn’t after men like the human equivalent to the female praying mantis was.

‘Yes we do. Anyway, I’ve heard that there is an Indian restaurant on the fourth deck that does a mean vindaloo.’

Now I may not have mentioned this, but I love a good curry. Some people like drinks or smoking, others have to snort drugs or read Barbara Cartland books, but me; it’s curry, hot and strong enough to melt lead.

I was out of there like a scalded cat and in a very short few minutes; I was in the bedroom deciding what to wear.

Sheila was already dressed in a micro skirt, fishnet stockings and a blouse that left nothing to the imagination… subtle she aint!

I, on the other hand did not want to flaunt anything so, despite Sheila protests that I might as well dress like a nun, I chose a yellow strappy sundress that went to just above my knees, some sandals and my hair in a high pony tale. I was trying for the ‘Sandy in Grease’ look, before she went tarty that is and I think I got it just right.

As we left our suite, I started humming ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You.’ until Sheila jogged me painfully in the ribs and threatened a lobotomy, whatever that was, if I didn’t stop it and start being cool.

As we entered the main concourse of the massive ship, looking around in amazement at the vibrancy of the place, all lights, chandeliers, mirrors, marble, deep carpets - you get the picture; I marvelled at the number of people aboard; the place was heaving. It was busier than a Harrod’s sale and I was in danger of getting knocked over in the rush as passengers all, ‘oohing and aahing,’ as they looked around the massive ship.

I must admit, I thought the passengers would be on average about 80, but I noticed amongst the blue rinse and false teeth brigade, a surprising number of younger people.

Here was me thinking that if we went on a cruise, it would be nice and quiet and that I would be able to recharge and all that stuff and the only action necessary, being to avoid being run over by Zimmer frame or wheel chair grannies. Instead of that, I was surrounded by people who wanted to partay…and everyone was so bloody cheerful!

In the space of twenty minutes, we entered and left three discos, four wine bars, two pubs, a crá¨che (don’t ask) and no less than seven shops. I had to physically restrain, Sheila in the shops, no mean feat as she has the muscles (but not the fat) of a sumo wrestler. I had even had my bum pinched twice and when I complained to Sheila she said that was nothing she had pinched several boy’s bums herself. I was beginning to worry about Sheila!

Eventually we landed at the Star of India restaurant. The place was relatively empty and was an oasis of quiet in an otherwise noisy ship. An Indian lady in a gorgeous red and gold sari was at the entrance and ushered us in. I couldn’t take my eyes off her dress and lusted after it with a passion that surprised me. Just a few years ago I was a spotty youth who picked his nose and was typically boyish and look at me now?

Soon we were ushered to a table in the corner by a quiet, unassuming Indian waiter, all smiles, bows and subservientism.

Looking at the menu, I chose Madras over my usual vindaloo as I did not want to embarrass myself in the wind department later.

Suddenly, I felt a slight shiver go down my spine and quietly looked around. I still had the strange feeling of being watched. I just hoped that the feeling would go away soon and that I could unwind and forget about my cares and woes.

Sheila finally chose a korma and a mushroom bhaji and the waiter left us with a drinks list whilst taking the order to the kitchen. There was no need to really look at the list, as it is a capital offence to drink anything other than lager with a curry.

‘Well, Toni, what do you think of the ship?’

‘It’s great — so much to do and that’s without visiting ports and doing sightseeing.’

‘Bah, sightseeing is for wimps, we need to find out where the action is and find some men.’

‘But I don’t like men…that way.’

‘What way?’

‘You know.’

‘I know?’

‘Yes; do I have to spell it out?’

‘Yes.’

‘s.e.x.’

‘What have you gone off sex?’

‘I’ve never been on it really and anyway, after Roger (may he rot in jail) I don’t want anything that way, thank you very much.’

‘What about Giles?’

My face went red at the thought of Giles, the man who lived downstairs from us at the hated Davis’s block of flats. He was nice and those muscles were interesting but still, I think I prefer girls…I think?

‘Don’t give me that, you gave him moon eyes every time you squeezed past him on the stairs.I swear you did it on purpose’

‘I did not, it’s not my fault that the stairs are narrow.’

‘OK…you might and I use that term lightly, might not like men, but there are always women.’

‘But what woman would want me looking like this.’

‘I grant that you look a wee bit too angelic in that dress, but some girls like that sort of thing.’

My face went red again.

‘Do we have to speak about this?’

‘Well you need to make up your mind. Imagine it you are in the disco, dancing around your handbag…as you do, and a man and woman comes up to you with the come hither look. Which one will you choose, the hunky man with rippling muscles, straight clean white teeth, strong forehead, hair; golden and kissed with the sun and a smile that would brighten your day, or the girl?’

‘I see you’re back on men again…anyway, why do I need to choose. I have no intention of getting laid as you like to put it?’

‘Why not, you’re pretty, nice, with a sort of wall flowerish personality. Let you’re hair down, go with the flow and do what comes natural.’

‘Is that curry going to your head. I have no intention of getting into anything at the moment. I need to recover from what I’ve been through, not throw myself at the nearest man or woman. Anyway, I have an extra package in my panties which makes it a bit difficult to have anything meaningful happen to me.’

‘Some people wouldn’t mind what you have nestled in your panties but sorry Toni, I don’t want to push you, I just want you to have a good time.’

‘I will, now eat up your curry, the lager’s getting warm.’

We finished our meal in relative silence, enjoying the food and drink and winding down a bit.

All too soon, we finished and found ourselves back in the busy concourse. I was feeling a bit bloated after overdosing on the rice and suggested to Sheila that we go find the pool and sit down by it.

After asking several people and looking at a couple of maps, we found ourselves on an open deck.

The sea breeze was slight and the water was blue with small white crests. It was quite warm and very pleasant. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and I could feel the heat of the sun on my shoulders and through my thin cotton dress.

Ahead of us we could hear some shouting and splashing and, turning a corner, we saw the huge swimming pool, it was sort of kidney in shape and had slides and stuff at one end and at the other, a gently shelving slope that led into the cool blue chlorinated water.

We found a couple of seats with canopies over them and lay down in the coolish shade. We didn’t want to get sunburnt and I made a mental note to buy some sunscreen or something later.

I shut my eyes and relaxed, letting any tension knotting my muscles ease.

I must have fallen asleep as I felt a hand on my shoulder.

‘I’m just going to the loo, see you in a minute.’

‘OK, Sheila,’ I said without opening my eyes.

I sighed and drifted off again…

After a bit, I surfaced again, yawning and rubbing my eyes, I opened them, blinking in the glare of the sun and there on the opposite side of the pool, I saw someone looking straight into my eyes.

It was a man, dark hair; tall I would say, wearing a shirt, tie and sober dark trousers. He wasn’t smiling, as such, but had a sort of sardonic grin on his face. I felt quite uncomfortable at that so I looked away from him and sat up. I had no idea where Sheila was but I felt like I wanted to go back to our suite. I looked back at the man, but he had strangely disappeared!

I sighed with relief. Sheila had told me about that. Some men like looking at pretty girls and I suppose I was quite nice to look at and not many people wince when they look at me anyway. As Sheila says, I scrub up well.

I supposed that Sheila had snared a man or something, so rather than wait, I went back to the suite, stopping off at the shop for some sunscreen gloop first.

I swiped my card into the thingy and the door clicked open. As I walked in, I was almost overcome by the fragrance. The place was full of bouquets of flowers. It had more blooms in there than at the Chelsea Flower Show and I wondered what was going on; perhaps Sheila had an admirer?

I went over to the nearest bunch of red roses. There was a little envelope attached to one of the stems and to my surprise, it had ‘Toni’ written on it.

I opened the envelope and inside was a note.

Hello Toni, it’s great to see you here.

An Admirer.

I looked at several other bouquets, and the same words were written on all the cards.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose like a frightened hedgehog. .I felt that something strange was going on here and I may be out of the doo doo and firmly in the poo again.

To be continued...

Please leave comments as it's nice to hear from you.

Looking at the note left me with a feeling of dread. Here I was on holiday on this lovely cruise ship, trying to get away from my problems and enjoy myself for once and some weirdo has sent me more flowers than at a rock stars funeral.


Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 4

By Susan Brown

Chapter 4

Looking at the note left me with a feeling of dread. Here I was on holiday on this lovely cruise ship, trying to get away from my problems and enjoy myself for once and some weirdo has sent me more flowers than at a rock stars funeral.

I heard a noise behind me and jumped.

‘Bugger me with a pitchfork!’

‘I would rather not,’ I said as I turned to see Sheila walking through the door. Mind you, you don’t walk through the door do you? You sort of walk through the doorway, otherwise you’d mash your nose or something. I’m burbling. I know I am, back to the present Toni, get a grip!

I looked at Sheila; she was opening and closing her mouth a bit like a goldfish waiting for her food.

‘Close your mouth, Sheila, you’re creating a draft.’

Her mouth shut suddenly. I noticed that her lipstick was somewhat smeared and hair looked like it had been dragged through a hedge backwards.

‘You look a mess; been playing tonsil hockey with some poor bloke?’

‘Erm, yes, a double glazing salesman from Bolton.’

‘Is he still alive?’

‘What do you mean? I don’t kill every man I have a relationship with. I may scar them for life if they cross me, but I’m a pussycat really.’

‘You mean tiger.’

‘Never mind about that. What the hell is going on here?’

I silently passed her several of the notes. She scanned them quickly and turned a lighter shade of pale.

‘Blimey, someone’s either got the hots for you or is even more warped than me!’

‘That’s saying something.’ I mumbled.

‘Pardon?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Right; we need to do something.’

She went over to the phone and picked it up.

‘Hello, can I speak to the florists shop? What do you mean, you don’t have a florist shop. We have had some - no let me change that - a ton of flowers delivered to our room, where did they come from? Yes I’ll hold.’

She tapped her feet as she waited. I cleared one of the chairs of some flowers and sat down. It was good to see Sheila in full flow.

‘Hello yes, what?’ she looked at me, a puzzled look on her face, ‘no, OK thanks.’

She put the phone down and looked at me. I was a bit disappointed as I had expected a grade one rant from Sheila.

‘They don’t know anything about the flowers. They don’t have a florists, they do have some flowers for general use about the ship but they are limited and fully accounted for.’

‘What’s this all about, Sheila?’

‘I’m not Miss Marple; I haven’t the figure for it. Look, I think we need help. It might just be a wacky admirer but then it could be a stalker and I can’t watch you all the time. We have to call in the cavalry.’

‘They can’t have horses on boar…’

‘I know that I was talking metaphorically.’

‘Does it hurt?’

‘What?’

‘Metaphoriwatsit.’

‘Don’t sprain your brain dear. I’ll explain later; anyway, we need to talk to security.’

She went back over to the phone and picked it up.

‘Hello, can I speak to security please…. Hello, is that security, we have a problem, Huston… sorry; I always wanted to say that. Could someone pop up and sort out a problem for us? No I don’t want to say anything on the phone as walls have ears…I know that walls don’t really have ears, stooped; look, are you coming or not? Good do you know which rooms we are in? That’s it, see you in a mo then.’

She put the phone down and came and sat next to me.

‘Don’t worry; we’ll get to the bottom of this. You never know, it might be a rich eccentric multi millionaire who wants to rush you off your feet and whisk you away to a life of luxury and debauchery.’

‘There again, he might just want to kill me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I remember the look on ex step daddies face in the court. I got the impression that he has crossed me off his Christmas list — permanently.’

‘Come on, what can he do, he’s sowing mailbags or crunching rocks in prison.’

‘Yes, but he may have friends outside.’

‘Look, there is no need to worry. On a ship like this, they would have top-notch security. Blimey, it’s like a mini city and they would be aware that some shady characters might get on board. The security staff are probably the best in the trade — the David Beckham’s of their trade…top of the profession…’

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

‘Oh shit.’

I looked up and saw.

‘Bugger,’ I said with feeling. ‘It’s you!’

‘Hello ladies, you called security?’

There in the doorway, in all there glory or lack of it was Britain’s answer to Starsky and Hutch — our old friends Mick and Dave!

They came through the door, looking around at the mini garden that was our suite. They both had sunglasses on, which looked ridiculous as it was hardly sunny in here. They were out of uniform but the Hawaiian shirts and Bermuda shorts clashed horribly with…just about everything.

Sheila was the first to speak — she often is.

‘What are you two doing here?’

‘I bet you’re surprised to see us; we was surprised when we found out that you too were aboard. Funny how thing turn out, isn’t it?’

‘Hilarious,’ said Sheila, ‘I thought you were a long way away, nicking people for parking on yellow lines.’

‘We are on secondment.’

Not firstment?’

‘No secondment; we won the raffle down at the knick to be the onboard police presence on this trip.’

‘Why do you need police here; what about the security staff?’

Dave spoke up.

‘There has been a tip off vis-á -vis the possibility of drugs being on board. We have had info from a grass that some wacky backie is on here. Also some hard stuff like coke and amphets. We are here to nab the slimballs and make them do some hard time without the option.’

I only understood a few of the things that Dave had said so Sheila interpreted.

‘What Dave is saying is that they have been told by an informer that there may be some drugs on board. They are here to try to catch them and then take them back to the UK where they will be put in prison.’

‘Well, why didn’t he say that?’

‘Because he can only talk in cop-show speak.’

‘Oh.’

‘Well ladies,’ said Mick, getting down to business, ‘what have we here?’

‘Flowers,’ said Sheila through gritted teeth.’

‘’Yes, madam…I am aware of that, but what is wrong with having a few flowers?’

‘Firstly, I’m Miss or preferably Ms not Madam and secondly, these flowers were delivered without our permission by some nutter who has written loads of cards, all with the same message on them, look.’
She passed a few of the cards to Mick and Dave.

They had to put their sunglasses on the top of their heads to read the message, reminding me a bit of the girls at work.

‘Hmm…suggestive, eh Dave?’

‘You’re right there, Mick.’

‘Suggestive of what?’ I said.

‘Erm… well…now that you have brought this to our attention, we’ll take the cards away for fingerprint, saliva, DNA tests and that jazz; but don’t worry about it; we are top notch investigators, not much gets past us, eh Dave?’

‘True, very true, Mick.’

‘We’ll get back to you on this ladies, in the mean time, enjoy you holiday and if anything else untoward happens, let us know.’

Sheila showed them out and I just sat there.

‘Well Toni; feeling better now that the dynamic duo are on the case?’

‘No.’

‘Me neither.’

‘There was another knock on the door.

‘What now!’

Sheila went over and yanked open the door. It was Buttons, or whatever his name was, the perky bellboy with a trolley thingy.

‘Ullo ladies, ow are yer doin?’

‘Yes?’

‘Sorry ladies, I been sent up to ask yer if yer wants me to take away the flours?’

‘Flours?’

‘Yea, you know flours,’

‘Oh you mean flowers. Do you want to keep them Toni?’

I shook my head, the sooner they were gone, the sooner I could try to forget all this.

The chirpy chappie picked up the all flowers, put them on the trolley and with a cheery wave that sickened me a bit, left us whistling a happy tune.

‘Is he on drugs or something?’ I asked.

‘Too much cola, probably.’

‘What do you want to do now?’

‘Do you fancy eating anything?’

You’ve not long had something.’

‘I know, but I’m still a bit peckish.’

‘It’s those men you go after; saps your strength.’

‘I don’t go after them, well not much anyway. Look, fancy a drink down by the pool, I might grab a sandwich too.’

‘OK, might as well try to enjoy myself.’

As we walked down the corridor, I had that strange feeling of being watched again. I looked around and, of course, there was nobody there. I shrugged my shoulders thinking was being paranormal about it and carried on.

When we got to the pool, half the loungers were covered in towels, “must be a lot of Germans about,” I thought as we found a quiet spot where we wouldn’t get too splashed by the overweight belly-floppers.
A waiter came over, all glistening teeth and Latin charm.

‘What would you charming laydies like today?’

‘You please.’ said Sheila.

‘Behave!’

‘Sorry Toni, just being friendly.’

‘Can I have an orange and lemonade please?’

‘Of course, with ice?’

‘Yes please.’

‘And you Mees?

‘’Coke please, plenty of ice and can I have a ham sandwich too?’

‘Of course, anything for a lovely laydie.’

I could have sworn that Sheila sort of simpered as the Latin lothario loped off.

After a short time he returned leaving us with our drinks and Sheila’s sandwich.

‘Goodbye, lovely laydies. If you need anything just snap your fingers and I will be with you in a flash.’

‘I’d like to see you flash!’

‘Sheila!’

‘You make me blush,’ said the waiter with a grin cheesier than White Wensleydale.*

Looking at him,; under the tan, I saw no signs of blushing and as he walked away, I could see that Sheila had some unfinished business at a later date.

I sipped the drink through the straw, feeling the cold nectar hitting the back of my parched throat.

Looking up at the sky, I could see that apart form a few scudding clouds, it was a fine clear day. The sun was high and I could feel the heat through my thin sun dress. I didn’t know if I would get up the courage to get a swim suit, I was worried where I would put Percy as, lets face it, I couldn’t unscrew him and stick him in my handbag.

I closed my eyes and sighed, relaxing in the warm sunlight.

After a bit, I could hear a sort of slurping noise. I opened one eye and saw a small boy looking at me. He a chocolate ice cream cone in one hand and was busily picking his nose with the index finger of the other one. He had ice cream over half his face and down his arm and he was staring at my chest. He must have been 4 or 5 and I supposed that his mother loved him.

He reluctantly extracted his finger from the mining expedition and pointed at my chest.

‘What?’ I said.

‘Your lumps are wonky.’

‘What lumps?’

‘On your belly.’

I looked down and saw that he must have meant my chest. I noticed with horror that one of my false my booblets had come adrift from it’s moorings and was about 4 inches higher than the other one. I placed my hand on top of it and pushed it down to its natural resting place.

I looked up at the boy who now had wide open eyes and a rapidly melting ice cream dripping down his arm.
I put my finger to my lips and just said ‘Shh.’

He looked like he was going to cry but before I could say anything else, he ran off crying for his mummy.
I shrugged my shoulders and shut my eyes for a while and all was relatively peaceful.

I must have sort of dropped off as I was suddenly and violently awoken by the af

ter shock of a tidal wave, as some large plonker decided to land on his ample stomach in the deep end.
I wiped my eyes to prevent chlorine poisoning or something and glanced up.

My heart sort of flip-flopped as I saw the man looking at me from across the pool. It was him, tall, dark hair, wearing a business suit. He was looking straight into my eyes and had a sort of a sad smile on his face. I turned around and jabbed Sheila in the ribs, she shot up two feet and then glared at me.

‘WHAT?’

‘It’s him, the man who stared at me, look, there he is…’

I pointed over and realised that once again he had disappeared. What was this, some magic trick or something?

‘Where?’
‘He’s gone again.’

‘Are you sure it was him?’

‘Yes, I would know him anywhere.’

‘Well, never mind, he probably just fancies you. Let me get some beauty sleep. If he turns up again, wake me gently or I might accidentally on purpose give you a right hook.’

Sheila shut her eyes leaving me to worry about what had happened today. What more could go wrong and it’s not tea time yet.

I shut my eyes and waited for my heart to stop racing. Just then I heard a young child.

‘Mummy, here she is, her lumps were wonky and I…’

To be continued...

* White Wensleydale cheese has a mild, slightly sweet flavour with a honey aftertaste.

Please leave comments as it's soooooooo nice to hear from you.

It was dark, well it would be as it was nighttime and the lights were out...


Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 5

By Susan Brown

On the good ship lollipop.
Its a sweet trip to a candy shop
Where bon-bons play
On the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay.

Chapter 5

I woke up in a sweat; I had just dreamt that I was Shirley Temple. I shuddered, as I could almost taste that lollipop.

It was dark, well it would be as it was nighttime and the lights were out.

In the distance I could hear the throbbing of the engines. Then I realised that it was actually Sheila snoring next door.

I was wide-awake now; I glanced at my little portable Minnie Mouse alarm clock. I loved the way one arm was pointing to the minutes and the other, a bit shorter, to the hour hand; it was 2.30am — quite a few hours until I had to get up.

Anyway being unable to sleep, of course my mind went over what had happened the previous day. I won’t write the bits that you know, cos you read it already, and if you haven’t read it, what’s the point of starting to read this half way through? — Anyhoo, after the Stupid Child Booblet Incident, I got a bit fed up with cooking myself around the swimming pool and also I was still a bit uptight about the mystery man, learing at me across the swimming pool.

I was thirsty — Sheila had gone man hunting again — well I assumed that was the case as that was her main hobby apart from physical violence. I decided to go to one of the bars on the next deck up.

As I went up the steps, I once again had that feeling of being watched. It was getting to be bit annoying. I mentally shrugged my shoulders and told myself not to be silly; I would land up at a nut farm in a straight jacket if I didn’t watch out.

I found my way to the bar, which appeared to be a karaoke one, as there was this old bloke singing ‘I Did It My Way,’ off key and about twenty seconds behind the music.

I ordered some earplugs and a screwdriver, whatever that was. It was the house speciality evidently and the nice man behind the bar said that I looked like I needed one. —It tasted like orange juice with a bit of a bite.

‘Yummy,’ I said, ‘can I have another?’

Funnily enough, after the second orange juice thingie, I felt a lot better and lost that feeling of being watched. After the fifth one, I was singing a very good rendition of Sailing, by Rod Stewart….

I am sailing, I am sailing,
Home again cross the sea.
I am sailing, stormy waters,
To be near you, to be free…..

Then I fell down and I got intimately acquainted with the deck, which needed polishing, by the way.

I must have a had a little sleep then, as I woke up in my cabin with a bit of a headache.

Sheila was standing over the bed looking down, a small smile or was that a leer played on her lips.

‘Hello.’ I said and wished I hadn’t as the noise coming out of my mouth started a pneumatic drill in my head that threatened to blow it apart.

I winced a bit; well quite a lot really and held my head in my hands — trying to stop the banging of the drill with little success.

‘Got a headache have we?’ boomed Sheila.

‘I don’t know about we, but I think I am dying; please don’t shout… I can’t take it.’

‘I was only whispering; take this.’

I looked up, and saw through bleary eyes that Sheila was holding a glass. There was some browny, yellowy liquid in there, the sight of which made me want me to throw up all over the bed.

‘I can’t drink that; I’ll be sick — anyway, what is it?’

‘Just a concoction that cures hangovers.’

‘I don’t have a hangover — I must have a bug or something.’

‘Yes, it’s the drinking bug; now sit up and drink it or I’ll force feed it to you.’

I sat up; holding my head to prevent it falling off and with shaking hands took the glass from a smirking Sheila.

‘I thought you was a nurse, you should be nice to me and wipe my fevered brow.’

‘Stuff that; all that sort of thing went out with Florence Nightingale; it’s all “lets get them cured quick and out of here, so we can keep up the quota” now.’

I looked at the slightly pulsating liquid with distaste.

‘What is it?’

‘You don’t need to know.’

‘Will it kill me?’

‘Might.’

‘Will it stop the builders in my head, banging and drilling?’

‘Should do; now drink up like a good girl.’

I took a deep breath and drank it straight down. It was a bit lumpy and I nearly gagged at the taste, but I eventually finished it and dropped the empty glass on the carpet. I swear that the few drops that split out of the glass and got on the carpet started eating away at it. There was evidence of smoke, but I wouldn’t swear to it.

I shut my eyes to stop the room spinning. Funnily enough, after a few minutes, I was feeling a bit better and then after a while, a lot better.

‘What was in that?’

‘Better not to know; but it’s worked, hasn’t it?’

‘Yes. I must steer clear of that spanner drink.’

‘You mean screwdriver.’

‘Whatever.’

‘Are you up to coming out? A brisk walk around the ship, all those sea breezes, ozone and crap like that will clear your head.’

‘Do I have to?’

‘Doctors orders.’

‘You’re not a doctor.’

‘Naa, thick lot are doctors, us nurses are always the brains of the outfit. Now, come on get your sandals on, a bit of lippy, sun tan lotion, quick flick with a hairbrush and you’ll be a new girl.’

‘Yes Mummy, where’s my sun glasses?’

‘Don’t start.’

Fifteen minutes later, we were walking around the deck and I was breathing in the fresh sea air. We were miles away from any coast. To be frank, I had no idea where we were or even the name of the ocean we were in; geography wasn’t my strong point; mind you, education in general wasn’t my strong point, never mind, I hate those people who think they know everything and I do have a sunny personality.

My head had now cleared and all was well with the world. I didn’t feel that weird feeling of being watched and relaxed a bit and started to enjoy myself.

We were leaning over the railings looking down at the swimming pool and all the semi naked bodies, cooking quietly in the sun on loungers. I could see that Sheila was salivating over all the man flesh on offer. Most of the men were old enough to be her father but some were younger and without beer guts. I on the other hand was more interested in the overall picture of people enjoying themselves, especially in the pool. I was above all this flesh worshipping stuff that Sheila seemed to thrive on.

All the laughing, shouting, splashing, porpoising and other things that go on and around the pool made me feel happier than I had been for a long time.

My hair was getting in my face a bit and I felt that at some stage, I would have to go to the salon to get snipped a bit. My dress was billowing slightly in the sea breeze and I had to hold it down with one hand to prevent any ogling male down below catching a glimpse of my knickers. Thoughts of Marilyn Monroe came to my mind. I didn’t want that to happen. I marvelled at the fact that I now felt so comfortable in my female persona. Who would have thought that a short time ago, I was a shy, spotty boy without any future and a sad past.

Soon, we moved on (I dragged Sheila, kicking and screaming away)and we found ourselves in a coffee shop. The smell of the coffee and Danish pastries reminded me that I was hungry. So we sat down, asked for a Capo and pastry and looked around us.

‘He’s nice; like his bum.’

‘For God’s sake, Sheila, can you stop thinking about men for one minute.’

‘Not really; I have a problem; I like men.’

‘I would never have thought.’

‘Sarcasm, Toni?’

‘Would I?’

‘Hmm, watch it. Anyway, you decided whether you like boys or girls yet?’

‘Do I have to choose?’

‘Not really; if you want to be AC/DC it’s fine by me; whatever floats your boat. You can jigger with whoever you fancy.’

‘You are so crude sometimes Sheila, I haven’t found a soulmate yet. I don’t want to jigger with anyone as you so charmingly put it.’

You will, I have a feeling in my water that you will find true love on this cruise.’

‘I heard that cruise romances never work.’

‘That a fallacy.’

‘There you go talking about sex again!’

‘I don’t mean phallus, dummy. I mean it’s a falsehood.’

‘Oh.’

The drinks and pastries arrived and there was relative silence as we consumed the scrumptious delicacies with concentrated exactetude…who said I can’t rite English?

As we sipped our frothy coffee, our eyes spanned our fellow customers. It appeared that Sheila was correct that the average age of passengers on cruises appeared to be getting younger. There were quite a few people of our age, quite a few families with young kids and a fair smattering of people dressed like they were in their twenties but were probably over forty. I know when I’m as old as that; I will dress according to my age and try not to look like mutton dressed up as lamb, well I hope I will, anyway.

‘Are these seats taken?’

We both looked up as two men stood there, smiling down at us.

‘No, they’re free,’ said Sheila in her throaty — ‘I-am-up-for-it’ voice.

The men sat down.

‘I’m Jake, this strange man is Tim.’

‘Hey- I’m not strange, just a bit weird.’

I laughed at them and drank my capo. I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.

‘This is Toni and I’m Sheila. What are nice boys like you doing on a tub like this?’

I looked at Sheila; talk about corny!

‘Well,’ said Tim, ‘until we saw you to lovely ladies, not a lot.’

Tim was looking at me and suddenly, I went all sort of goosy, skin wise. The hairs on the back of my head stood to attention and my tummy did a three-point flip, flip, flop. I was diving in to his ocean blue eyes and I didn’t have any water wings.

Jake was saying something and without hearing it, I found myself nodding.

Conversation was going on around me, but I was in Another Place. I looked at Tim’s, Adam’s apple, bobbing up and down as he spoke. I must have said something witty as he laughed, his teeth were as white as any toothpaste advert and the smile lit up his face.

I could vaguely tell that Sheila had latched onto Jake like a female limpet mine, but for some reason, I wasn’t paying too much attention to what she was doing to or rather with Jake.

All too soon, the men left and there was I sighing into my now fast cooling drink.

‘My God, I never thought that I would see that!’

I turned to Sheila and said, ‘What?’

‘You.’

‘What about me?’

‘Agreeing to go out for dinner tonight with a hunky man; talk about dumbstruck, love at first sight and all that.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Earth to Toni; is there anyone in there? You agreed to go on a date with Tim. There was so much chemistry and electricity between you, you could harness it and run the ship for five days, easy.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘You did.’

‘I…I…I’m going on a date?’

‘Yes, hen.’

‘But, I’m a bloke.’

‘Not from where I’m sitting; anyway, you said you wanted to be a girl.’

‘I do…I think, but, but…what if he gets heavy and wants to put his thingie in my whatsit.’

‘So what?’

‘I haven’t got a whatsit!’

‘You don’t need to worry about that; he seems a nice boy; he will only want to kiss you, perhaps a bit of tonsil hockey but no more than that. Anyway, if he does get a bit heavy, just tell him that it’s your time of the month.’

‘What, June?’

Sheila looked at me sadly.

‘I think that me and you need to go back to the cabin and I’ll tell you a few things about the birds and the bees.’

‘Birds and bee…’

‘Later, dear.’

To be continued...

Please leave comments...Thanks

Yuk, that sounds really messy.’ I said, ‘ so all women go through that, every month!

Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 6

By Susan Brown

There we were sitting in the cabin, me on the bed and Sheila lounging around on the erm… lounger.

‘Yuk, that sounds really messy.’ I said, ‘ so all women go through that, every month!

‘Yep.’

‘Blimey, I’m glad I don’t have to. If I have my whatsit chopped off, would I have periods too?’

‘No, you need a womb for that anyway, your whatsit as you like to call it, isn’t chopped off, it’s sort of inverted…I think.’

‘Sounds a bit weird,’ I said, feeling a bit sick, ‘I don’t spose they sell those womb jobs at Tesco’s*; you know, they sell almost everything else.’

‘Not yet, but give them time; didn’t you do sex and that at school?’

‘No, I was away that day.’

‘But you must have an idea about the birds and the bees?’

‘Yes, of course, I watched Oprah you know, on cable.’

‘What about your mum and dad, didn’t they explain anything?’

‘Not really, we didn’t talk about that sort of thing. I think Mum thought that it was distasteful and Dad always went down the pub when anything like that was on the telly — mum said he had issues, whatever that means. I was a bit silly when I was younger and kept putting things in my mouth. One day I found some little blue triangle pills that looked like sweets on my dad’s bedside table. I ate one and it made me feel all funny and I got a ginormous headache. Mum said that I was silly to eat things like that and I got a smacked bottom, Dad got a telling off too, for leaving them out. It was only later, I found out (On Oprah) what those pills were for, you know s-e-x.’

‘So what you are saying is that you have led a sheltered life.’

‘Spose.’

‘Well, you are in for a rude awakening. Mind you, after Roger the octopus I would have thought that you would be OK dealing with men?’

‘Nothing really happened with Roger, though it could have. Anyway, is there any way I can put Tim off?’

‘Getting cold feet?’

‘Cold body more like it.’

‘I thought you fancied him?’

‘I do..don’t…I mean, I don’t know. Part of me thinks that I’m sick in the head to want a bloke, another part says, oooh he’s dishy and that. I don’t know what I feel.’

‘That’s normal; even I have my doubts about men.’

‘You!’

‘Yes me, don’t laugh like that; I think, though you may not notice much, that I may be a bit over the top with my man chasing.’

‘You could do it at the Olympics and get a gold medal.’

‘Naa, silver maybe, but not gold…’

The phone rang, making us both jump. I went over to answer it.

‘Hello?’

I could here nothing at the other end except breathing.

‘Hello, can I help you?’

Just more breathing, it sounded a bit like an asthmatic sheep to me.

‘Hello, who is it; what do you want?’

The phone went click and there was silence.

‘What was that about?’

‘Don’t know, some person with breathing problems… wrong number I spose.’

The phone rang again and I picked it up.

It was the breathing again.

‘WHAT!!!’ Hello….oh bugger off!’

‘What’s up Toni?’

‘It was him…her…whoever again, wouldn’t talk, just breathed down the phone at me.’

‘I hate that; sounds like a heavy breather…goes around in a dirty mac, reading questionable material and exposing themselves to old grannies. Needs castrating…that sort.’

That graphic thought immediately made me want to cross my legs for some reason. It made me think; if I wanted to be a girl, a real girl I mean, I would have to change my metaphoric outie to an innie. Would I like to go through the hassle not to mention pain and suffering? Lets face it, if I had a cold, I thought that I had double pneumonia and blood…don’t talk to me about blood! Mmm it took some thinking that. I swiftly tried to take my mind off that to another thing that was bothering me.

‘Sheila?’

‘What,’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Course.’

‘Am I boring?’

‘Boring…you! You’ve got to be joking…it’s a laugh a minute around you. I never know what’s going to happen next, why?’

‘Well, I’m worried about my date with Tim.’

‘Why; you’re a nice girl…pretty in a simple wholesome, sickly farm girl sort of way, but I suppose some men like their girls like that.’

‘It’s not that; it’s just…’

‘Come on spit it out to your Auntie Sheila.’

‘Well, I know some people might think that I’m as thick as two short planks and that I can’t play the piano like Stradivarius; though I am good at computers as my dad taught me lots about that but, I don’t want to seem thick, blond and air headed to Tim; I have my pride.’

‘Well, it looks like its time for another lesson, Lotus Blossom. Look, the one thing you need to know about men is that they are more interested about themselves than anyone else. They like to be around beautiful women; they more often as not, are more interested in getting inside your panties than listening to your views on Marx …’

‘Ooh, I liked the Marx Brothers…especially Harpo; he was the one who didn’t talk and kept blowing a taxi horn…’

‘Never mind about that; keeping to the subject; you are sweet, young and painfully innocent…men like that as they can protect and look after you, fold you in their arms and do the manly thing.’

‘Manly thing?’

‘Yes, its what I call the “Me Tarzan, you Jane” thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Most men like to think that they are the dominant species…more fool them… full of wit, strength and enough testosterone to paint Tower Bridge…twice over. They think that their jokes are funny; they’re opinions on politics, finance, sex, marriage and religion are spot on; they also think that women swoon over them and that they are the last word in sartorial elegance.’

‘You haven’t got over your last boyfriend yet, then.’

‘Of course I have; let him rot in hell.’

‘So what are you driving at?’

She seemed to pull herself together.

‘Sorry about that, what were we talking about? Oh yes; look, don’t worry about Tim; he’s a nice boy, he will treat you like a lady and I would be surprised if he tried anything on... especially on the first date.’

‘First and last.’

‘I don’t know. I saw the look on your face when you two were in la la land. Lets see what happens, shall we?’

‘Okay, if you say so, but what will I wear?’

‘Spoken like a true women, lets have a look at your wardrobe…’

We went over to the closet and after rummaging about, throwing clothes hither and thither, Sheila made a pronouncement.

‘It’s no good, we need to go shopping…’

‘Shopping…here?’

‘Yes, I just happened to notice that there are four clothes shops and two shoe shops on board; I’m sure we can find something to spend your uncles money on.’

And so it came to pass that I went forth and spent some dosh on some clothes. It wasn’t easy…I wasn’t used to a spending frenzy like wot Sheila was; I was guided by her wise and some times not so wise views. I wore myself out trying on all types of clothes all the way from Mary Poppins to what Sheila liked to call the femme fatale style. I was surprised at my lack of stamina…I was knackered after the first seven changes, but Sheila was not even into her second wind.

I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of my mega-dressathon; it’s enough to be said that, eventually, I got something that pleased both me and Sheila and I found myself semi comatose on my bed, two and a half hour later, a couple of hundred pounds lighter, but with an expanded wardrobe and a dress to die for, according to Sheila. I hoped that Tim was worth it.

Sheila went for a shower; she too was coming out tonight as this was going to be a foursome. I could hear her singing, “I’m getting married in the morning” — off key as she showered away.

The phone rang and I struggled to get up and answer it.

‘Hello?’

There was just the sound of heavy breathing.

‘Look, whoever you are; go away and get a life!’

I slammed the phone down and started to shake a bit.

‘What’s up?’ Said Sheila, coming in, drying her hair with a towel.

‘It was that heavy breather again.’

‘Right.’ She said all masterful. ‘I’ve had enough of this crap.’

She went over to the phone and picked it up.

‘Hello…get me security…hello, can you get down here please, we have a situation…yes it is Sheila, how did you know? Oh, right, as soon as possible please.’

She slammed the phone down.

‘Right; do you want to get a shower; we only have an hour and a half to titivate ourselves up before the boys come to pick us up.’

‘Okay,’ I said going into the bathroom and shutting the door, not wanting to be around when “security” turned up.

I quickly got undressed and showered; enjoying the jets of cool water as it hit my body and various delicate bits. Soon I was clean from head to foot. I put on my pink slinky wrap and walked out into the bedroom. There, before me stood our friendly coppers, Batman and Robin…I mean, Mick and Dave.

I blushed to my blond roots. I had forgotten that they were coming!

I was pleased that I was covered up, well marginally anyway and that my added extras were not on show… hopefully.

‘Hello,’ I said, rather shyly.

‘Hello Miss, said Mick, ‘nice dressing gown.

‘None of that sexist talk,’ said Sheila taking charge, ‘what are you going to do about it?’

Mick cleared his throat and spoke.

‘Well, as I see it, we have a prima face case against possible perps who have, contrary to various bylaws and statutes, made lude and licentious noises down a telephonic instrument…’

‘Pardon?’ I said in a state of some confusion.

‘He said someone was being naughty down the phone,’ said Sheila.

‘Oh.’

‘Yes, we need to nail him or them and be quick before it escalates,’ said Dave with some gravity.

‘Them?’ I squeaked.

‘Yes, you only heard breathing, I understand.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, it’s hard to tell if it was just one or more than one person phoning you then, isn’t it. The Modus operandi of your criminal occasionally means that they sometimes have accomplices. We need to go deep on this one, eh Mick.’

‘Yup, good job we’re here to look after you and apprehend desperate criminals. Are you happy now, Miss?’

‘Spose.’

‘Right ladies, leave it with us, we’re on the case now.’

‘Thanks Dave; you to Mick,’ I said as they left.

I sat down on the bed rubbing my wet hair with a towel.

‘What do you think Sheila; do you see them finding out who did it?’

‘Not a snowball chance in hell.’

‘That’s what I thought. I won’t answer the phone again.’

‘You’re probably right…let’s get ready, we’re running out of time.’

I thought that an hour and a half was enough time to get ready…it wasn’t. I suppose that’s why girls are always late.

After finishing drying myself, using the dryer on my hair and then tugging said mop into some sort of shape. I then put on my silky undies, the bra was a bugger, plastered on the makeup and squeezed into my dress and shoes; when finished, I had about a minute to spare.

I took a bit of time to look at myself in the floor length mirror. I saw a pretty girl with blond hair, light makeup, shiny pink lips and a dress that was silver and glittery, what Sheila called a boob tube. Talking of boobs, I adjusted the breast forms slightly so they were placed correctly and pointing in the right direction. I didn’t want any more Little Brat With An Ice Cream incidents again. The dress accentuated my rather thin body and hugged me in various places. Luckily, Percy was behaving himself behind two tight pairs of panties and, looking sideways, I could see no tell tale bump.

I then looked at my legs that were encased in sheer hose. I loved the way the hose felt against my skin and emphasised what I think are quite good legs, though I say so myself. The shiny nylons reflected the light a bit and had a wonderful sheen to them…yummy! Finally my eyes travelled down to my shoes, which were silver sandals with three-inch heels. They were a bit difficult to walk on, but accentuated my ankles and made me feel quite girlie.

‘Have you finished looking at yourself?’

‘I suppose, are my hips too big?’

‘I’ve seen bigger hips on a stick insect…you look lovely and you know it, now come on; we’re meeting the boys at the disco.’

I tore my eyes away from the mirror and my gob was truly smacked when I saw what Sheila was wearing.

I remember seeing on cable a program called The Avengers there was a girl on there called Emma Peel, she was heavily into leather and that’s what Sheila was wearing, a leather jump suit. It was so tight, that you could almost see individual muscles and goose pumps under the black sleek leather.

‘Blimey.’ That’s a bit over the top!’

‘’Not too understated?’

‘You will cause a riot wearing that; does it come with a government health warning?’

‘Don’t be funny; lets go.’

As we walked through the various corridors and down several lifts, I was uncomfortably aware of the stares we were getting. My bum was pinched more than once and I must say I was not a happy bunny. I still had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched and this didn’t help my state of mind much.

Eventually, we started following a bit of a crowd, wearing party clothes and I could here the thump, thump of music in the distance coming nearer as we headed towards the disco.

My heart was thumping to the beat of the music as I started to get wound up over the coming meeting with Tim. Part of me wanted to see him — the thought of his smile made me go a bit squishy — another bit of me dreaded the date as I was more than a little bit concerned that I might give myself away and be exposed as a boy.

The noise got suddenly louder as we reached the swing doors leading into the disco. Sheila held me firmly by the arm as she propelled me through the doors into the bright lights and sweaty throng.

Although there were strobe and spot lights dancing all over the place, I couldn’t see much other than several people on the dance floor, gyrating there hips in tune to some sort of jumpy electronic music. We pushed through a crowd of people and fought our way to the bar…more bum touching up made me want to run back to the cabin, but Sheila’s grip on my arm tightened as she sensed my unease and in a few moments we were ordering our drinks. I avoided a thumbscrew or whatever it was called and asked for a cider. Sheila had a rum and coke. We stood by the bar as we waited for the boys. No sign yet but that was no surprise as the place was big and now getting very crowded.

I felt almost naked in my somewhat brief dress. I imagined that everyone was staring at me and wondered if my panties were showing. I looked at the dance floor and sipped my drink. Sheila was ordering another rum and coke and my shoes were tapping on the floor in time with the music.

There was a gap in the dancers on the floor and I saw through to the other side. My heart jumped as I saw that man again. He was wearing what seemed to be the same suit and he was looking straight into my eyes. He had a sort of smile on his face or was it a leer. I turned to grab Sheila.

‘Sheila,’ I shouted over the music, ‘it’s him…’

Sheila turned around, but when I looked, he was gone…again!

I stamped my feet in frustration; I was getting a bit fed up with this.

‘What?’ Said Sheila.

‘Nothing,’ I shouted through my teeth.

I took a big swig of my drink and emptied my glass. After ordering another, Sheila turned to me.

‘Come on, let’s find the boys.’

We worked our way through the mass of bodies. I was feeling quite hot by now; God knows how Sheila was managing trussed up in all that leather; she must have been using industrial strength deodorant.

I glanced over to a corner of the room that didn’t have so many people. It seemed a bit saner over there, so I grabbed
Sheila and made motions that I wanted to go over and park myself for a while. The boys, I thought should be looking for us, not the other way around.

As we arrived, I noticed a couple of men in tee shirt, facing away from us; they had there arms around each other and were swaying to the music. On the back of one tee shirt, was the legend ‘Mums are for life’ and on the other it said ‘not just for Christmas.’

The men turned around as we walked up, but I knew who they were before they turned.

‘Hello Ronald and Derek, fancy seeing you here!’

*Tesco’s — large supermarket that wants to close all the high street shops.

Please leave comments...thanks

‘Ooh look, Ronnie, its Toni and Sheila; hi girls!’
‘Well, you can knock me over with a feather; fancy seeing you girls here,’ said Derek, enthusiastically.
 
Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 7
 
By Susan Brown
 

 
 

‘Ooh look, Ronnie, its Toni and Sheila; hi girls!’

‘Well, you can knock me over with a feather; fancy seeing you girls here,’ said Derek, enthusiastically.

We said our hello’s and found a table a bit away from the music where we could talk without going deaf.

‘What are you boys doing here?’ I asked.

‘On holiday love, like you,’ said Derek.

‘I didn’t know that you had time off. I work in HR and I can’t remember seeing your holiday request.’

‘It was a spur of the moment job…you know, last minute thing.’

Sheila and Ronald were talking away but I couldn’t really hear what they were saying as the music was still a bit loud.

‘So Toni, having a nice time?’

‘Sort of.’

‘What do you mean?’

I told him all about what had happened, the flowers, funny phone calls, being watched, stupid Dave and Mick and all the rest.

‘Strange,’ said Derek, ‘trouble seems to follow you around, dear.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘Never mind, Ronnie and me will look out for you and don’t forget that you have Sheila.’

‘True, I’d put her up against The Terminator, let alone any low life who was out to get me.’

We chatted for a bit longer then I realised that four was a crowd and by the looks Derek and Ronald were giving each other, they wanted to get up close and personal. So after making motions to Sheila, we left them playing tonsil tennis and went for another drink.

Before going too far, I felt myself being pinched on the bum, again!

I turned around and there was some 150 year old walnut with an innocent look on his decrepit face.

‘Look chum,’ I said, ‘do that again and I’ll take your walking frame away from you.’

I stomped off after the retreating figure of Sheila as she did her famous parting of the waves job; getting through the press of people and getting to the bar in record time; leaving several people bemused and not knowing what hit them.

Following in her wake, I was soon with her and ordering another cider.

‘Hi girls!’ I heard from behind me.

I turned around and there he was in the flesh; and very nice flesh it was, too! Tim was looking particularly edible in a soft cotton, button down shirt and light blue chino trousers. His smile made me go all wobbly at the knees and if the bar hadn’t been propping me up, I would have swooned at his feet.

‘Hello Tim.’ I whispered.

I could vaguely hear Sheila saying something to Jake, but I was too far into Tim to notice. To be frank, you could have cut off my leg and I wouldn’t have paid much attention.

I was steered away from the bar and led to a quietish corner away from the hubbub. Tim sat me down with a drink and sat next to me — very close. Sheila walked up with Jake and sat on the other side of the table.

‘Well,’ said Sheila, ‘this is very nice.’

I didn’t say anything and I could feel my eyes cross as Tim did things to one of my knees under the table. His hands were wondering in a northward direction and I could feel Percy, perking up in anticipation. Now, even I knew that this was not a good thing. Tim was looking for something I hadn’t got. In fact if he went any higher, he would have the surprise of his life. I gave Sheila a look which hopefully conveyed my concern, but she was busy trying to seduce Jake and paid little attention to me.

I did what any self respecting girl would do.

‘Sheila, SHEILA! We need to go to the loo.’

Sheila looked up, rather annoyed as she had reached stage two and was going for stage three in record time.

‘Are you sure!’ She said in a breathless voice, here face visibly flushed even under the strobe lights.

‘I’m sure,’ I replied in desperation as Tim’s wondering hands, reminiscent of an octopus, slid slowly but surely up to my family jewels.

Sheila put Jake down with a sigh and I jumped up. Tim’s hand banged on the underside of the table and he looked a bit like a lion that had lost its dinner,as we walked to the toilets. I was walking a bit funny due to my unasked for and unwanted stiffie, but eventually we arrived at the toilets and joined the inevitable queue.

‘What was that all about,’ hissed Sheila, ‘I was doing well there and then there was you looking all flushed and fevered at me.’

It was noisy, so I couldn’t say what I wanted to and anyway there was a semi naked girl standing virtually on my shoes, chewing gum and trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.

‘Can we go somewhere quiet — it’s important.’

We left the queue and went outside where the sound dropped to a dull roar. We went over to the railings and we were finally alone enough for me to talk to Sheila.

‘He’s all over me like a rash!’ I said desperately.

‘What do you mean; he looked okay to me.’

‘His hands were all over me under the table. My God we had only just sat down; I thought he was a nice boy.’

‘He is; he’s just letting libido take over.’

‘What’s that, some sort of disease?’

‘No silly; like most men, his brain has direct access to what’s in his pants.’

‘So?’

‘So, he gets up close and personal to a gorgeous girl and his cock takes charge and starts telling his hands where to go and what to do.’

‘Men aren’t all like what you think they are.’

‘No, but Tim can see that there’s a chemistry there, his natural instinct takes over.’

‘Well, if that’s the case, I’m off men for good.’

‘You say that now, but can you tell me, hand on breast form that you don’t fancy him?’

‘That’s beside the point, I’m not that sort of girl, come to think of it, I’m not any sort of girl.’

‘Well you want to be.’

‘I think so, but I want to take my time to decide. I still like girls, you know.’

‘So your bi, it doesn’t matter whether you are a boy or girl; that’s not the issue.’

‘I’m confused. I like Tim but if I can’t let him have his evil way, I will loose him before I really get to know him.’

‘Well, just tell him that he is going too fast.’

‘And if he won’t accept that?’

‘Tell him that you’re on.’

‘On what?’

‘Time of the month, curse…do I have to spell it out? Okay I do; tell him that you have started your period.’

‘Gross!’

‘Not for nearly half the world’s population who have deal with it for a lot of their lives.’

‘Not me!’

‘That’s where the nearly comes in. One of the advantages you have over other women is you don’t have to go through the inconvenience, mess, mood swings and other lovely things. Mind you with hormone pills, you will it least get some of the things we get.’

‘Sounds like fun…not!’

‘You said it. Now lets get back in there and as soon as we sit down, whisper in his ear why your nether regions are off limits.’

‘Yes, Auntie…and thanks.’

‘If you call me Auntie one more time…’

‘Okay mum.’

I squealed quite girlishly as I ran back into the heaving throb that was the disco, with Sheila following swiftly behind. I still don’t know how she could run, let alone walk in that leather gear, she did kind of squeak like a rusty hinge, perhaps I should suggest oiling her…then again, perhaps not.

We arrived back at the table; the boys looked a bit deflated, no doubt a bit hung up with waiting for us. Miraculously, more drinks had been provided and I had a swift couple of gulps of cider in preparation for my continued wrestling match with Octopus Man.

I could see in the corner of my eye that Sheila wasted no time in continuing where she left off with Jake. I remember seeing a program once about a praying mantis and what the female did to the male mid stream as it were. There were definite similarities. Jake thought he was running the show and was going to get a bit of a surprise at some stage.
Meanwhile, Tim tried to regain the initiative by simultaneously giving me a tonguey thingy down my throat with some more of the wondering hand treatment.

I stopped him delicately by thumping him in the chest, and when he went ‘oof.’ I whispered in his ear that I was on and I was quite messy down there, his hand removed itself as if it had been bitten by a nasty snake form Australia.

“My goodness,” I thought, “it works; strike one for the ladies team!”

Things settled down a bit after that and Tim returned to being nice and sweet rather than a pale imitation of Neanderthal Man.

We left Sheila and Jake to themselves. I don’t know what they were up to, but involved a lot of heavy breathing and moaning.

We went on the dance floor and erm…danced. The place was packed and we kept on being bashed against by John Travolta wannabees. I had my bottom pinched, again and again and promised myself that next time, I would carry some protection, like bullet proof panties.

We gyrated to the music and I was having a good time as the lights showed up Tim’s nipples clearly through his thin shirt. I could have told him, but somehow I held my tongue.

Eventually, there were some slow dances and it was nice being close to Tim and feeling him as he felt me. He kept well clear of ‘that zone’ and I was grateful for that, it didn’t stop him from feeling up my bottom and false titties though, and I more than once got a bit worried and prayed that they would stay securely anchored in my bra. It must have been okay, cos he didn’t mention it. It stands to reason that anyone with an ounce of sense would notice if you had a tittie that was disengaged from your body and I was so glad that it didn’t happen.

All good things pass, and eventually, we were dancing the last waltz along with about fifty other couples on the crowded dance floor. By now my lips and tongue were a bit numb and my lipstick was a thing of the past. It had been a nice evening and it confirmed that I had the hots for Tim. The fact that I still had male equipment, dented my happiness, but based on my experience tonight, I was almost convinced that I should go and get myself ‘done,’ and make myself a real woman. I was still a bit sketchy about how it could be done, but I was sure that I would find a way, even if it meant going to Bangkok or somewhere.

Sheila and Jake had disappeared some time ago and I could only imagine what Sheila was doing to the poor unsuspecting man.

We left the disco as the last tune was being played and walked the decks. The stars shone brightly and there was a slight breeze coming off the sea. The moon was high in the sky and I was feeling ever so romantic as we walked hand in hand in the moonlight. We passed several groping couples, but played little attention as we were in our own little world.

Time passed and finally, I had to give in to tiredness. Tim was the perfect gentleman…well he had to be, as I was…erm…indisposed in the um…nookie department.

He said goodnight outside my cabin and after several minutes intense lip massaging, he reluctantly let me go, promising to see me the very next morning.

I went into my cabin, humming the last waltz. Sheila had obviously gone with Jake to do what she had to do, so I was quite alone. I went into the bathroom and went to the toilet. I yawned and realised how tired I really was. I looked at my face and realised that it would take several minutes to clean off my makeup and to be honest, I couldn’t be bothered. I yawned again and then left the bathroom and went into my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to go to bed. The light was off, so I searched about and found the light switch. I blinked at the sudden brightness and then screamed as I saw a naked man on my bed with a rose in his teeth…

To be continued...

Please leave comments as it give a starving author sustenance.

I took in the rotund stomach, let’s not be gentle here — pot bellied, then the lobster pink of the skin that had not seen enough factor 30. The sparse hair, the drool on the lips that held the thorny rose, clenched between off white and brown teeth...
 
Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 8
 
By Susan Brown
 

 
 

Previously on Working Girl ~ Life Goes On!

I went into my cabin, humming the last waltz. Sheila had obviously gone with Jake to do what she had to do, so I was quite alone. I went into the bathroom and went to the toilet. I yawned and realised how tired I really was. I looked at my face and realised that it would take several minutes to clean off my makeup and to be honest, I couldn’t be bothered. I yawned again and then left the bathroom and went into my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to go to bed. The light was off, so I searched about and found the light switch. I blinked at the sudden brightness and then screamed as I saw a naked man on my bed with a rose in his teeth…

My eyes focused on the vision sprawled on my bed; it couldn’t be!

The tale continues...

I took in the rotund stomach, let’s not be gentle here — pot-bellied, then the lobster pink of the skin that had not seen enough factor 30. The sparse hair, the drool on the lips that held the thorny rose, clenched between off-white and brown teeth.

It was the hated Davis!

For those gentle souls that have not kept up with my misadventures — Davis was Sheila’s landlord and my previous one when I lived as Tony. If you want to know anything more, you will have to read the previous instalments and get Sue’s (my biographer) hit count up a bit.

Anyway, there he was, larger than life, lying there with a rose in his mouth.

‘What..what...what?’ I said.

‘Hmmmmph,’ he said.

‘Take that thing out of your mouth.’

‘Ouch.’ he said as I pulled it and unfortunately caught him with a thorn on his top lip. I wondered fleetingly if that was what a fish felt with a barb in its mouth?

‘I said, what are you doing there dressed, I mean not dressed like that?’

‘You want me!’

‘No I don’t, I would prefer to have the plague rather than you.’

‘But...you wrote me a letter.’

‘I didn’t!’

‘You did; you said that you were going on a cruise and that you wanted to be with me. You put the ticket in the letter. You said that you wanted me more than anything. You lusted after my body and couldn’t wait to see me and have me. I knew that you liked me really; I could tell when you poured that drink over me in the restaurant — it was a lovers tiff, that...’

There was a knock at the door, I went out of the bedroom across the reception room and opened it, I was a bit distracted but thought that it might be Sheila without her key or something.

It was Tim.

‘Hello, darling, we hadn’t arranged to meet to tomorrow and I thought....’

He was looking past me. I turned around and there was Davis, rose in hand, Willy, moving slightly...in harmony with the rocking of the boat; a bit like a fleshy metronome...

‘Oh shit.’ I said delicately.

‘Sorry Toni, I didn’t realise you were busy.’

Before I could utter a word, he looked at me as if I was something he scraped off his shoe, and left.

I shut the door and turned around.

‘If you are not out of here by the time I get back, I will stick that rose up your bum and then feed you to the sharks!’

I wrenched open the door and tried to follow Tim. I had no idea where he could be as I wasn’t sure where his cabin was. To say I was upset would be an understatement. I was crying like a girl (well I am a girl...want to make something of it?) I didn’t know what was going on, but it looked like my dream holiday was turning into a nightmare. I ran up and down the decks, not easy in those heels but I couldn’t find him. In desperation, eyes streaming and heart sobbing, I went into the ladies and fixed my face, well a girl has standards... then I used my brain rather than emotions. I didn’t know which cabin he was in. Sheila, who would know as she knew everything about every eligible male on the planet, was doing what she normally does with men so she wasn’t going to be around until morning. I had to sort this out for myself.

A little light bulb went off in my head...The purser’s office! I had read in a pamphlet that all enquiries are handled by them! They would know where his cabin was!

I followed the signs and arrows to the purser’s office. There was a little glass window and a lady in a vice admirals uniform...well she had lots of shiny buttons and things...looked up, with a tooth glistening smile.

‘How may I help you?’

‘I need to find my boyfriend.’

‘Where did you leave him?’

‘Outside my room.’

‘Oh, dear, had a bit of a tiff, did we?’

‘We didn’t, I did.’

‘And how can I help you?’

‘I need to know which room he is in.’

‘Don’t you know?’

‘That’s why I’m asking. ‘

‘I am sorry; I can’t give out personal information.’

‘It’s not personal, you have about a thousand crew here, and I bet they know.’

‘Know what?’

‘What room he’s in.’

‘Why would they want to know that?’

‘If they needed to know, you would tell them.’

‘Yes, but they are crew.’

‘So it’s not secret is it?’

‘What isn’t?’

‘Where Tim is.’

‘Why would they want to know?’

‘You aren’t going to tell me, are you?’

‘I am sorry; I can’t give out personal information.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

‘I won’t.’

I left her and wandered the decks, feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t look where I was going and bumped into someone.

‘Gor blimey, hold hard, what’s up then?’

I looked down and saw our cheeky chirpy bell boy, Arfer. He was out of uniform, wearing a hideous sort of Hawaiian shirt and shorts, he clashed with himself, colour-wise, but my thoughts were more about Tim than the boys’ sartorial elegance.

‘I can’t find, Tim.’

‘Who’s Tim then?’

‘My boyfriend.’

‘Where’d you leave him then?’

‘Don’t you start; I’ve just had the same conversation with the lady in the purser’s office.’

‘Old frozen drawers? She a bit of a one; having it off with the chef, she is, thinks she runs the place.’

‘I only want to find out his cabin number.’

‘What, up for a bit of night nookie, are we?’

‘Don’t be rude. We just had a misunderstanding and I wanted to clear it up.’

‘And here’s me thinkin' that you wanted my body.’

‘Not today, thanks.’

‘Never mind. want me to get your Tim’s room number then?’

‘Could you!’

‘It’ll cost yer?’

‘How much?’

‘A snog.’

‘In your dreams.’

‘Can’t stop a man askin'. OK, a peck on the cheek then.’

I bent down and kissed him...I was desperate.

‘And another when I come up with the goods.’

‘If you insist.’

‘Right, leave it ta me. Stay ere’ won’t be a mo.’

He scuttled off like some sort of forward moving crab, disappearing around the corner and leaving me in limbo.

I was getting a bit chilly as the sea breezes were playing havoc with my nether or should that be never regions. I wondered what Tim would be thinking of me. Slut, harlot, bitch, hooker prostitute...all things that came to mind as my goose pimples got goose pimples on them.

Girlie tip number 1: Don’t go out on deck without a cardi or faux fir coat.

As I waited, couples went past me hand in hand, whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears and annoying the hell out of me. I wasn’t one to moan about my lot, but let’s face it; I had more problems coming in my direction than Sheila had men going after her!

I heard the patter of tiny feet and around the corner came my favourite leprechaun, I mean bellboy, Arfur.

He skidded to a halt and was panting a bit like a Labrador puppy. I resisted the urge to pat him on the head and give him a biscuit and just said, ‘well?’

‘Piece a cake.’

‘Pardon?’

‘I said piece a cake, can’t yer speak inglish?’

‘Not like you, thank God. Did you get it?’

‘It’ll cost yer.’

‘I know,’ I said with a sigh.

He puckered his chapped lips and I thought of England and kissed him.

‘Loverly!’ he said with a sigh.

‘Well?’

‘Well wot?’

‘The cabin number?’

‘Oh yea, its 212.’

‘How did yer, I mean you do it.’

‘Used me obvious charms.’

‘You haven’t got any.’

‘Probly not. I just told her that her boyfriend was standing outside the kitchen and wanted to see ‘er about some sausages.’

And?’

‘She rushed off and I looked at the ship's rosta.’

‘What a good boy you are!’

‘Does that mean I get anova kiss?’

‘No.’

‘Worth askin; see yer later aligator.’

‘In a while crocodile.’

He sauntered off and I rushed down the corridors, up and down some stairs until I arrived breathless at Tim’s cabin.

I knocked on the cabin door and went, ‘ouch.’ as it was made of steel.

After a few seconds, a door opened and a pretty girl stood there. She was wearing a robe of some sort that left little to the imagination; in some countries, it would be banned. I hated her on sight.

‘Yes?’ she said, her plucked eyebrows going up about an inch.

‘Is Tim here?’

‘And who wants to know?’

‘Me.’

‘And you are?’

‘Toni.’

‘’Oh, you’re Toni, are you?’

‘Yes, that’s what I said.’

‘Well, Toni, he doesn’t want to speak to you.’

She slammed the door in my face.

After a few moments, I wandered off. I didn’t really care where I was going.

To be continued...

Please leave comments as it give a starving author sustenance.

‘Give me a soldering iron, please,’ I said to the barman, behind the erm, bar...
 
Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 9
 
By Susan Brown
 

 
 

Previously on Working Girl ~ Life Goes On!

I knocked on the cabin door and went, ‘ouch.’ as it was made of steel.

After a few seconds, a door opened and a pretty girl stood there. She was wearing a robe of some sort that left little to the imagination; in some countries it would be banned. I hated her on sight.

‘Yes?’ she said, her plucked eyebrows going up about an inch.

‘Is Tim here?’

‘And who wants to know?’

‘Me.’

‘And you are?’

‘Toni.’

‘’Oh, you’re Toni, are you?’

‘Yes, that’s what I said.’

‘Well, Toni, he doesn’t want to speak to you.’

She slammed the door in my face.

After a few moments, I wandered off. I didn’t really care where I was going.

The tale continues...

I wasn’t sure where I walked. I do know that I was wandering around for quite some time. I got a bit chilly walking the decks wearing just a silvery boob tube, stockings, high heels and not much else, so eventually I found myself at one of the bars; the place was fairly empty, just a few couples snogging themselves silly in the dark corners where they thought no one could see them, I suppose.

‘Give me a soldering iron, please,’ I said to the barman, behind the erm, bar.

‘Sorry?’

‘What are you sorry about?’

‘Nothing Miss; it’s just that I haven’t heard of that drink.’

The cogs in my brain tried to mesh, without much success.

‘Hmm, is it a spanner?’

‘Don’t think so, Miss.’

‘Call me Toni, please…Miss sounds like I’m a school teacher or something…now…erm, I know, it’s a socket set…no. claw hammer, chain saw…’

‘Do you mean a screwdriver?’

‘YES!! I knew it was some sort of tool, hand tool, I mean, oh God that sounds rude! Look, a screwdriver please and go easy on the soft stuff, forget the ice and don’t bother with the fruit and veg…in short, make it so strong that it would make a bishop dance on the table tops.’

‘One strong, bishop strength screwdriver, coming up.’

In moments, my throat felt as if sulphuric acid was being poured down it. My eyes popped and I sort of started smoking around the ears. My tummy went all sort of warm and I saw two versions of the friendly barman; suddenly he, or it may have been they, were my best pal or pals.

‘Hey, barman,’ I smiled, ‘what’s your name?’

‘Patrick.’

‘Well, Patrice, you make a hell of a drink.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

‘I won’t.’

He was wiping a few glasses and looking at me with a strange look.

‘What?’

‘Well Miss…’

‘Toni, it’s Toni.’

‘Well Toni. Some barmen and women have what is called the gift.’

‘What do you mean, the gift?’

‘Well, it’s a thing that is passed down through the generations to selected bar people. We can see when a customer is having worries or troubles and we, in our small way, try to help wherever we can to help and counsel their troubled souls.’

‘Am I a troubled soul?’

‘I’m thinking that you are. I observe that you have been crying. It’s late and yet you are here at the bar drinking a strong and potent drink. I surmise that you have problems in the love department and you wish to drown your sorrows, am I right?’

I looked at both of him, trying to decide which one was real; eventual I chose the right-hand one as he seemed a little less wobbly and I liked his smile.

‘You hit the nail on the head Patrice; I had a row with my boyfriend, just because there was a naked man in my room holding a rose between his teeth.’

‘Did you ask the man to go to your room?’

‘No.’

‘Then why are you at fault?’

‘Because, Tim thought that he was my boyfriend, but he wasn’t.’

‘No?’

‘No, he was my ex-landlord who thought that I lusted after him.’

‘And do you?’

‘Do I what?’

‘Lust after him?’

I snorted as I drank the remainder of my drink.

‘Lust after him!’ I said as I bashed the glass on the bar. ‘I would prefer to lust after, after, after, erm…a jellyfish, rather than that toad.’

‘Then why do you feel bad?’

‘Because when I went after Tim to explain… I went to his room and when I knocked on the door, I chipped a nail doing that by the way…some bimbo answered it and was snooty to me.’

‘Bimbo?’

‘Yes, she was pretty in an obvious sort of way, had a robe on that would have been obscene on a prostectu…prethet…pro…hooker. Her lips had been collagenated, they were so big and rubbery and her eyebrows were halfway up her forehead…the cow!’

‘I take it that you don’t like her?’

‘Is it that obvious? Anyway, she as good as said that Tim didn’t want me and seeing as she was there dressed like that, it’s clear that Tim was two-timing me.’

‘How do you know?’

How do I know what?’

‘That he’s two-timing you.’

‘Because she said.’

‘He didn’t say it.’

‘So?’

‘Well, call me a simple barman, but I prefer to get my information from the horses’ mouth.’

He’s not a horse, he’s lovely; she’s a horse, though, all buck teeth and big bum.’

I thought about that for a bit.

‘Can I have another Budweiser?’

‘You mean screwdriver?’

‘That’s it.’

He poured me a drink and I took a big swig. I waited for the after-thrusters to kick in, but nothing happened. Looking at the glass suspiciously, I saw that it was a slightly different colour to the last one.

‘It doesn’t taste the same.’

‘It wouldn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because there’s no alcohol in it.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because, if you are going to go back to see Tim, you don’t want to be drunk.’

‘I never want to see him again, the louse.’

‘Yes you do; I can tell you have feelings for him; otherwise, why drown yourself in the bottom of a glass.’

I started to tear up a bit. The barman was ready with a tissue.

‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

‘I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?’

‘Naa, the bar is empty and I like looking at pretty girls.’

I blushed.

‘I think though that you have a few things on your mind apart from a wandering boyfriend.’

I looked at him and saw a kind face; not one that would laugh at me or anything. If he was 15 years younger, I would probably fancy him, but getting away from that disturbing thought…

‘Can you keep a secret, Patrice… Patrick?’

‘Me! I’m a fully paid-up member of the Bar person Guild and one of the rules states that the customers’ secrets are our secrets. We act as a sort of confessional service. It’s free, but we appreciate tips.’

I looked at him again, he seemed kind. It may have been the drink, who knows, but sitting there I felt the need to talk…

So I told him about my life. How I lost my Dad and my Mum. My stepfather’s betrayal; my job and how I was persuaded to pretend to be a girl. Then I told him how much I liked being a girl and then the horrible trial, all the rest of the messy stuff and now all this with Tim.

By the time I was finished, I had several wet tissues in front of me and I was in a bit of a state.

‘So, let me get this straight, you are a man?’

‘Officially, yes.’

‘May I say you don’t look like any man I know; also you are worried that your boyfriend is cheating on you?’

‘That’s right.’

‘And your boyfriend thinks that you are a girl?’

‘Yes.’

‘Don’t you think that you are cheating on him too?’

‘Why?’

‘By lying to him about your gender?’

I thought for a moment and then shook my head to clear it. Suddenly I was very tired and I just wanted to go to bed. All this thinking was hurting my brain.

‘I…I’m going to bed.’

‘That’s a good idea, Toni. Things will seem better tomorrow, especially if you need to speak to Tim; there’s just one thing…’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, I don’t want to run your life or anything, but it seems to me that you have allowed yourself to be told or heavily influenced regarding what you should or shouldn’t do by other people. It’s about time you stood up for yourself and do what you want and be what you want to be without others putting their spoke in.’

‘Thanks,’ I said yawning and not really taking it in, ‘goodnight and thanks for listening.’

‘All part of the service, Miss.’

‘It’s Toni; night, night Patrick.’

‘Night, Toni.’

I left the bar a bit unsteady but by no means drunk. I was on autopilot as I made my way to my cabin.

As I walked along, a little unsteadily I must admit, I heard a ‘Psst.’

I looked around and saw two people in the shadows.

‘Psst!’

I looked over again, rather annoyed now.

‘I am not pissed, just a bit drunk.’

The couple came out a bit from their hidey-hole. It was Mick and Dave, Britain’s answer to Starsky and Hutch. They were both wearing sunglasses; strange that, as it was the middle of the night.

‘Sorry, Miss, said Mick. ‘We’re on surveillance for the purps.’

‘Purps?’

‘Yes,’ said Dave, ‘we have a lead that a certain person or persons unknown, are following you and causing you mental bodily harm.’

‘You mean the strange man in the dark suit?’

‘Erm…no it was someone naked with a rose between his teeth. We had a report.’

‘Oh, that was just my ex-landlord.’

‘Ex-landlord?’

‘Yes, he thought I had the hots for him, but I would more likely have the hots for you and Mick and that’s ridiculous too.’

‘Oh…right…well Miss we had better continue our undercover work…it means we are on overtime.’

‘Fair enough; mind you, if you do see a strange man in a suit, looking furtive, he’s probably up to no good.’

‘We’ll bear that in mind Miss.’

With that, they both faded into the shadows again.

Shaking my head, I carried on walking. A little while later, I arrived at my door. I fumbled with my pass key and eventually got the door open. It was dark, so I switched on the light. Luckily, there was no one home. I was half, no make that fully dreading the sight of Davis and that bloody red rose, but he had gone. Sheila was obviously spending the night elsewhere, swinging off a chandelier or something and I was glad of that as I needed some peace, quiet and above all, sleep.

Looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, I cringed a bit as I saw that my makeup had run all over my face, making me look a pale imitation of Alice Cooper. I scrubbed off the detritus on my face and vaguely wondered where from my murky past I had dragged up that word. I was too knackered to care and soon I was in my silky nightie and tucked up in bed.

I woke up early, expecting to be depressed and everything, but for some reason, I wasn’t. During the night I had had a metamorf..metermur…erm, a complete change in the way I felt about things. It must have been my talk with Patrick or something. I saw clearly that I had not been in charge of my destiny. I was like a ping pong ball, being pinged when I wanted to be ponged…I thought about that for a moment, thinking that it didn’t sound quite right, but I knew what I meant, I wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore, The worm had turned!

To be continued…

Will Toni get her man?

Can Sheila keep her skirt on?

Has Davis got greenfly?

Who is the strange stalker?

All these and many more questions will, hopefully soon be answered…

So, tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion of Working Girl ~ Life Goes On!...if you dare!

All comments will be gratefully received and passed on to the less fortunate.

‘I jumped out of bed, going over to the port hole thingie and looked out. It was going to be another hot day and the sea looked calm and not sick making… a good omen!
 
Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! Final Chapter
 
By Susan Brown
 

 
 

Previously on Working Girl ~ Life Goes On!

I woke up early, expecting to be depressed and everything, but for some reason, I wasn’t. During the night I had had a metamorf..metermur…erm, a complete change in the way I felt about things. It must have been my talk with Patrick or something. I saw clearly that I had not been in charge of my destiny. I was like a ping pong ball, being pinged when I wanted to be ponged…I thought about that for a moment, thinking that it didn’t sound quite right, but I knew what I meant, I wasn’t going to be pushed around any more, The worm had turned!

And now, on with the story…

I jumped out of bed, going over to the port hole thingie and looked out. It was going to be another hot day and the sea looked calm and not sick making… a good omen!

Wondering, on the off chance, that Sheila was back, I went out of my room and over the plush carpet of the reception room to her boudoir. I knocked on the door and hearing no answer, I tentatively opened the door. The still made up bed told its own story…she had slept elsewhere; what a surprise!

The mood I was in, I couldn’t have cared less. If she wanted to bed the whole ships crew (a distinct possibility) it was up to her. I was standing on my own two feet now and I was going to be the mistress of my own fate.

I remembered from the ship’s guide book, that we were arriving in a port today. I couldn’t remember quite where it was, it had a name like fruit, orange…no, banana…nope, tangerine; that was it…Tangiers.

There were several tour buses to pick people up and I fancied going because the furthest abroad I had been when I was young was The Isle of White!

I went into the bathroom, took off my silky nightie and let it drop to the ground. In moments, I was under the hot jets and getting all nice and clean. I then washed my hair, which was getting quite long by now. After rinsing my locks, I used the conditioner, guaranteed to make my hair manageable and shiny, remembering to leave it on for a few minutes before washing it off. Ooh it felt soft and silky once I had dried it with the hair dryer.

Walking over to my closet, I had a problem, what to wear? I knew I had to be a bit careful as local custom and leering locals meant that I didn’t want to show much of my English rose type flesh; yes all right I had a few unwanted spots, but a girl can dream can’t she?

‘Right,’ I thought decisively, ‘let’s get going….Twenty minutes later, I had tried on most of my wardrobe and finished up wearing the things that I had first tried on.

Looking at myself in the mirror I quickly gave myself the once over. I didn’t have much time as the ship had now docked and I needed to hurry up or would miss the tour bus! It was a good job I wasn’t hungry so I didn’t need to fortify myself with cornflakes this morning.

Okay, back to the mirror. I saw a quite pretty girl with shoulder length blond hair, light makeup and sensible clothes. I had on a white, cheesecloth long sleeved blouse and matching gipsy style long skirt. Around my neck I had a colourful red and blue silk scarf. I wasn’t wearing any tights or stockings as it was too hot for that, just some low heeled strappy sandals which were comfortable and good to walk in. To finish, I had a sort of floppy straw hat which I hoped would keep the sun off my head a bit. All in all, I was pleased with the effect and thought I scrubbed up well. I was also pleased that I was able to do this without the help of Sheila!

I left the cabin and shut the door behind me, making sure it was securely locked; I didn’t want any more strange rose in teeth people visiting while I was out!

‘Ullo Miss, yer lookin very edible this mornin’,’

It was the little cheeky chappie himself, Arfer.

‘Hello there.’ I said brightly.

‘Are you goin’ art?’

‘Art?’

‘Yus art.’

‘Oh, out you mean; yes I’m going on the bus tour.’

‘Well be careful art there, it’s full of bleedin foreigners.’

‘Have they cut themselves?’

‘Wot?’

‘If they’re bleeding.’

‘Wot?’

‘Never mind; I’ll be careful.’

‘You goin’ wiv that Tim bloke?’

‘No, by myself, but with the tour guide and everyone else there, I’ll be okay.’

‘You be careful of those foreign blokes, they might get a bit leery and try to kidnap you and take you to a harem or somefink.’

‘I’ll try to avoid it but thanks for your concern.’

With that I left the little man and went down several corridors and flights of stairs until I got to the main dining room, where I met the other passengers who were also going on the tour.

There was a young woman there wearing a ships uniform, all buttons, bows and stripes, not my taste, but what do I know? She had a paper in her hand and she spoke in a monotime….metronom…flat voice.

‘Right ladies and gentleman. I am ships officer Petrie but you can call me Sally. In a few moments, we will go down to the bus. Just a few pointers though. Morocco is a mainly Muslim country and I would ask you to respect the people and their religion. The main language is Arabic, but many people, especially in the ports and tourist areas speak a least some form of English. Tangier, also known as the White City, revolves around its brilliant import and export port and you are sure to see many millionaires' yachts where the Mediterranean and Atlantic Ocean meets. After looking around, we will be going on a journey into the Rif Mountains to visit a traditional Berber souk or market which gathers weekly. The souk is one of the typical features of rural life in Morocco. Here, agrarian people come from the neighbouring hills to sell their goods and buy what they will need for the coming week. As well as finding local merchants, you will find the craftsmen — fixing shoes or welding a tea pot. There are also hairdressers and the soothsayers or medicine-men. You will also find the blacksmiths and the local dentist practicing their trade without any of the modern amenities. A visit to the rural souk is truly a journey back in time. En route back to Tangier we will visit Asilah, the fortified Portuguese village 46 km south of Tangier on the Atlantic coast. I hope that you all enjoy the tour, so ladies and gentlemen, shall we go?’

I won’t go on about the tour, I really enjoyed it. I hooked up with a couple from Scunthorpe who sort of adopted me for the trip. I know I was all independent and everything now, but it was nice to be with others.

One thing worth mentioning, apart from the occasional bum pinch and leery looks from the local yokels, was when I was in the market with my new friends, I saw a sort of tent affair, off to the side. There were several words in foreign type languages on a board outside; one word said ‘Fortune Teller.’ For some reason I was drawn to it and on being prompted by Betty and Fred (my friends) I found myself going in to the gloomy slightly smoky interior.

It took my eyes a few moments to get used to the gloom but I saw someone dressed in flowing robes, her head was covered with a scarf so only her dark green eyes showed through. She was sitting behind a red cloth covered table.

‘Gobbledegook.’ she said.

‘Pardon?’

‘Oh, you are American?’

‘No English?’

‘Ahh Engleesh. You want fortune told?’

‘Erm, how much is it?’

‘10 Dirhams.’

‘Do you accept British money?’

‘Yes, that will be ten pounds.’

I thought that it was a bit steep, but for some reason, gave her the money anyway.

The 10 pound note disappeared into her robes like some sort of vanishing trick and she looked at me with piecing eyes.

‘Sit.’

I sat.

‘Hands.’

I put my hands on the table and she grabbed them turning them over so she could see my palms.

She looked at them carefully.

‘Hmm.’ she said.

‘Hmm? I said.

‘Yes, hmm.’

She studied them a few more minutes. I was pleased that my hands were clean as it would have been embarrassing if they had been a bit grubby.

‘Ha!’ she exclaimed suddenly, making me jump slightly.

‘Ha?’ I said.

‘Yes, ha! you have interestink lines.’

‘I do?’

‘You do. You are not what you seem; you have had pain in the past and this is affecting you now. You are on the cusp?’

‘Will it hurt?’

‘What?’

The cusp?’

‘You not understand? The cusp it is, is is, star sign two signs you are between star signs, understand?’

‘Not really.’

She looked at me then her eyes went up as she muttered something about, ‘stupid girl.’

‘I explain. you are torn between two signs, birth signs. you have two souls in you. You need to decide which soul be strongest. Make wrong decision very bad, make right decision, very good, okay?’

‘Okaaay.’ I said not really understanding what the hell she was going on about.

She let my hand go and I stood up.

‘One other thing…’

‘Yes,’ I said as I turned away.

‘You will meet a tall dark stranger.’

‘Oh, I’ve already done that.’

‘Oh,’ she said, appearing a bit deflated.

It was early evening when we arrived back on the ship. I said goodbye to my friends, promising to meet up with them again and I found my way, somewhat footsore to my cabin.

On opening the door, I saw that it had happened again; the place had more flowers in it than a florist. The smell was a bit overpowering and I opened the doors leading to the balcony to let the air clear a bit.

Every bunch had a card attached. I picked up the nearest and it said:

To Toni, you light up my day ~ an admirer.

I picked up some more and they all said the same thing.

‘So, the fun continues,’ I thought.

There was still no sign of Sheila and I wondered a bit if she was avoiding me or something. Anyway I went over to the phone.

‘Hello, is Batman and Robin there…sorry Mick and Dave…Hello Dave, it’s Toni here, it’s happened again, more flowers.’

‘Right Miss, touch nothing, we’ll be there in a mo.’

I put the phone down, swept some flowers off the bed. I laid down looking at the ceiling. My mind was in turmoil. You might be wondering if I had been thinking about Tim and I must admit, throughout the day, my mind had gone back to him again and again. I knew that I needed to move on.

What Patrick had said was true. I had lied to Tim in a way as I had not mentioned the fact that I had an optional extra between my legs. The fact that I had now decided to have it removed didn’t make it any easier as I should have told him before. Knowing that Tim had another girl, hurt me a lot, but I could do nothing about it. Toni, Mark 1 would have just curled up in a ball or put her head in the sand hoping someone would help her get out of the mess, but Toni Mark 2 was made of sterner stuff. I decided that I would move on.

There was a knock on the door. I got up from the bed and opened it.

‘Hello.’ I said, looking at Mick and Dave standing there in flowery shirts, Bermuda shorts and sun glasses perched on there heads.

‘Hello, Miss,’ said Dave as the duo walked or shall I say swaggered in.

They looked around, picked up the flowers, looked at the hand written cards, mumbled things in each others ears, took notes and then turned to me. Mick was the spokesman today.

‘Well Miss; it’s the same modus operandi as the previous incident.’

‘What?’

‘Sorry Miss?’

‘What do you mean, ‘modus whatsit?’

‘Oh modus operandi means erm means…Dave?’

‘Yes, what Mick was trying to say is that it’s the same as before.’

‘I know that. What are you going to do about it?’

‘Erm, well, Miss; enquiries are underway and searches are being made. We have questioned a suspect but have not been able to ascertain whether said suspect is in the frame.’

‘You mean the toad Davis?’

‘I think his name is Mr Davis, Miss.’

‘And what about the man who has been following me, the one in the dark suit?’

‘Enquiries are ongoing on that one Miss.’

‘So let’s get this straight; you know nothing, have found no one and you have no idea what you are doing.’

‘Not true Madam…I mean Miss; enquiries are at a delicate stage but we fully expect to apprehend the guilty party or parties, quite soon.’

There was another knock on the door.

I went over and answered it. It was Arfer.

‘Yes?’ I said.

‘Had a call, Miss; I needs to take some flours away.’

‘I take it you mean flowers; didn’t your mother teach you English?’

‘No Miss, I was a poor little orphan.’

‘Oh my God, I’m sorry!’

‘That’s all right Miss, it gets me lots of tips from old ladies who want ter mother me. Now do yer want me to take the flours?’

‘Yes please.’

He pulled in a trolley from the corridor and proceeded to put all the flowers in it. Meanwhile I continued my conversation with the deadly duo.

‘I don’t want to tell you your job, but I assume that you are going to check where these flowers came from; see Davis and check if his writing is the same as on the cards; look at CCTV cameras to see who is coming along the corridor and getting into my room and find out who the strange man in black is who is stalking me?’

‘Erm, yes Miss…all in hand.’

‘Don’t let me keep you.’

‘Sorry? Oh yes, come on Mick, lets go.’

They left, shortly followed by Arfer who was whistling ‘The Lambeth Walk.’ rather badly.

And so I was alone…no further on than when I got up this morning. I didn’t feel like going down to eat so I did the civilised thing and phoned down for a sandwich and a bottle of wine. I wondered what Sheila was up to; I hadn’t seen her all day…but knowing her, she was having a wonderful time…I wished I was.

There was a knock at the door and I opened it. My food had arrived!

The waitress pushed in a trolley. I must admit I was surprised. I’m not ageist or whatever it’s called, but this waitress looked about a hundred years old, was deaf, had bottle top glasses and sort of creaked as she walked.

‘Hello, Madam.’ she said with a voice that quavered.

‘It’s Miss.’ I said.

‘Sorry Madam, did you say something?’

‘IT’S MISS.’

‘What have you missed? Sorry, I can’t hear you, It’s my hearing aid; I think the battery is gone.’

‘JUST LEAVE THE FOOD HERE!’

‘Sea food? No you ordered a sandwich.’

‘LEAVE THE FOOD AND THE WINE HERE!’

‘The time? It’s eight o’clock, I think, my watch has small hands and with my eyes…’

I started to have a headache; you know the sort, starts behind the eyes and in no time your whole frontal lobes are under attack.

I motioned her out. I didn’t want the blood of a little old lady on my hands and anyway it’s a bugger to get off the carpet.

I gave her a pound coin and could see her wilt under the weight of it. Finally, with much clicking and clacking, she left me and I was once again on my own.

I looked at the sandwich and saw that it was ham and cheese. Taking a bite out of it, I picked up the wine and poured myself a glass. It was Merlot, red rich and full of grapeyness…you can see I’m a wine conisewer or whatever it’s called.

I sat on the sofa and relaxed. The wine tasted yummy and the sandwich was rather nice too. I decided to put my worries and love life on the back burner. Sheila was obviously out again and I wondered in passing whole her latest victim was. I drunk another glass and pondered on the inig..igni. ingm… the thing whatever it was that Sheila was. Why did she go after men the way she did. Was it a hobby? Did she have deep feelings of inadeqwhatever it is? I didn’t know. I took another bite of the sarny and drank deeply. Funny thing was, the wine was affecting me a bit. I found myself not quite there; you know, in the room but not of it…

I had profound thought, looking down at myself, my long white skirt and blouse, my toesies peeping out under the skirt, all red and loverly… I thought, I thought….’I dress therefore I am.’ and zonked out…

I woke up with a headache to end all headaches. If normal headaches were the equivalent of being in the third division of the football league, this was Premier League stuff. I had several builders banging away with pneumatic drills in my head and my tongue tasted like it was made of a particularly grainy sand paper. I hadn’t thought about opening my eyes as I knew that red hot pokers would be involved somewhere.

Through the pickaxe noise in my head, I heard the sound of someone in the distance. It was a familiar voice…

‘Toni, wake up you silly cow!’

Yes, it was Sheila, using her normal bedside manner with the sick.

I opened my gummy eyes and squinted in the light. Now, me being me, I thought that I would wake up in some nice starchy hospital with all my relatives around me, looking anxious and ringing there hands…you know stuff like that. I would be in a pristine white hospital bed, wearing at worst a hospital gown and at best, a nice silky nightie. One of my loving carers would be wiping my fevered brow and the doctor would be beaming at the end of the bed, saying how wonderful I was doing and stuff like that.

Now, you know what I’m going to say, so to stop the suffering I will come straight out with it. Scrub the above…it didn’t happen like that.

My eyes creaked open like a less than well oiled crypt. I blinked twice and groaned slightly with the glare and then I noticed that I was sitting on a chair facing three other chairs. I noted immediately, that one of the chairs was occupied by Sheila. She had her hands behind her and her legs were tied up. I wondered fleetingly if I was taking part in some sort of bondage thingie…then I saw that the other two chairs were occupied by Mick and Dave. Both of the police forces finest were out cold and snoring. Sheila, of course was awake and somewhat vocal.

‘It’s about bloody time; I thought you was going to sleep forever!’

‘What…what…what happened?’ I said through dry and cracked lips.

‘I don’t know. I was just getting back to our cabin, when I felt a thump on the back of my head and I woke up here, trussed up like a chicken.’

‘Who did it?’

‘No idea. It was a man though, because he came in and fed me a few times. I didn’t see his face as he had on a ski mask and wouldn’t say anything. The second time he came in, he gave me a drink and it knocked me out. When I woke up, these two cretins were here and so were you.’

My head had started to clear as the labourers had obviously knocked off for the night so I could think a bit more clearly.

‘I wondered a bit where you were. I thought that you were making your way through the crew, so to speak.’

‘I was I had only got to B though, when I thought about you. I was worried so I left Brian and came back to the cabin. I wonder if I’ll ever get to Z.’

‘Z?’

‘Yes Z, Zorba, one of the cooks, nice eyes, not sure about the moustache though.’

‘How can you think of men at a time like this?’

‘It keeps my mind occupied.’

With that we fell silent for a minute. I was thinking of men too, well a man actually…Tim and though I had only known him for a little while, I desperately wanted to get more intimately acquainted with his various body parts. Then I remembered HER with her high rise eyebrows and disgustingly clear skin and shuddered. I had no chance there. I was still a man, well boy I suppose with all the dangly bits to prove it. Tim would run a mile into the arms of HER rather than give me a kiss and cuddle.

I sighed and then looked up as I could hear a sort of stereophonic sounds coming from our intrepid policemen. After some synchronised groaning, they woke up gradually. It was painful to watch as they gradually winced and groaned their way to full wakeupness.

‘What’s going on here?’ said Mick, through swollen lips.

‘I want my Mum,’ said a rather anal Dave. I wondered if he had an octopus complex… no that’s not right; I shook my head and it rattled.

Anyway they both gradually woke up to the fact that they were tied up with nowhere to go.

‘What’s happened?’ said a confused Mick.

‘Well,’ said Sheila, ‘you appear to have been nabbed like us; so what happened to you?’

‘We were in our room, sampling some beer that a nice man gave us to try and I don’t remember anything else.’

‘Where did he give you the beer?’

‘Outside our room; funny that he seemed to be waiting for us. He said that the ship had its own brewery and was asking passengers for their opinion on the newest beer.’

‘And you didn’t think that was strange?’

‘Not really, Dave said he was thirsty and anyone who wanted to give him a beer was okay by him.’

Dave, who was still a bit cross eyed and out of it, didn’t say much, just grimaced and shook slightly.

I looked about the room; it was obviously some sort of storage area. There were brooms, buckets and things dotted about. We must have been a fair way down in the ship, because you could hear the throbbing of the engines quite clearly and it was quite warm.

‘Have you tried shouting for help?’ I said to Sheila.

‘Yes but when the man came in he laughed, saying that I could scream as much as I liked, no one would hear me down here.’

I tested the ropes and could tell that they had been tied by someone who had their rope badge from the scouts.

We fell silent then. No one had anything to say. Sheila looked deflated and the boys dejected. Me; I was where I normally was, up to my neck in poo with nowhere to go.

I must have fallen asleep for a while, as I jumped slightly at the sound of the door being opened.

Looking up, a man came into the room; he was dressed in black and was tall. Was this the tall dark stranger the fortune teller was talking about?

He closed the door behind him and walked up in front of me. He had a bottle and some glasses in his hands.

So, Toni or is it Tony with a y…we meet at last.’

As far as I was concerned there was no one else in the room, just me and him. I looked at his eyes, I couldn’t see his face as it was covered by a mask.

‘It’s Toni with an i;’

‘First you must be thirsty. I’m a kind person at heart and don’t want to see you all suffer so I have brought you some wine to drink. I like being civilised and so drink up, while you can. Don’t worry, it’s not poison. I could have done that a thousand times but didn’t.’

He poured some wine in a glass and held it to my lips. I was parched and so I gulped almost without thinking. He repeated this with the others and then set the glasses and bottle on a table in the corner.

‘What do you want?’

‘Revenge.’

‘What for. I haven’t done anything to you?’

‘You have.’

‘What? I don’t know you.’

‘No, you don’t but you do know a very dear friend of mine.’

‘Who?’

‘A friend that you got put in prison.’

‘My ex step father?’

‘No… your ex boss, Roger. We are lovers and you got him put away.’

I was shocked, I didn’t expect that.

‘I...I thought he liked women.’

‘He does, to use and abuse, but he prefers me and you put him away and you are going to pay for that.’

My heart chilled at the finality of his voice.

‘W…what do you mean?’

‘I enjoyed playing games with you, sending you the flowers, it’s so easy to bribe the crew on ships, they don’t get paid well and any ‘extras’ are always welcome. The silent phone calls too. It was nice to see you get wound up, and then there was that fool Davis, making him believe that you actually wanted him…all games that I loved playing. Switching your bottle of wine for one that had been laced was easy using that old myopic bat of a waitress, the rest you know.’

‘No I don’t, you still haven’t said what you are going to do with us.’

My head felt woolly again. I looked at the others and noticed that they were asleep. I shook my head to keep it clear.

‘That’s easy; the wine had a little extra in it just to send you to sleep. I’m not cruel. I don’t want to see you suffer; just knowing that you are dead is enough for me. Just outside this door is a tradesman’s lift. It leads to a deck used by the crew, but only occasionally. By chance, there is a gate in the railings and a sheer drop into the sea. Outside this door, I have a trolley. I will load you all on there, tying you on nice and securely. Then I will cover you up, just on the off chance that you might be seen. A few minutes later, you will have a little swim, straight down, of course and shortly after, you will be a nice meal for any passing fish.’

He took off his mask and I saw his face. I had never seen him before and as my eyes grew heavy I realised that I would never see him or anyone else again…

I could hear voices and a lot of noise, some screaming, a bump and then nothing…

I woke up gradually. I wasn’t in any pain, no headache or anything just an awareness that I was either in heaven or in bed. Judging by the fact that I could smell that hospital smell and someone had just dropped a bedpan somewhere nearby I realised it was the latter rather than the former.

I cracked an eye open and swivelled it about the room. As I didn’t have any mind numbing pain from opening one eye, I took a chance and opened the other. I was in a hospital room, one with port holes, so I was still on the ship. I looked to my left and saw Sheila sitting there in a dressing gown. She was reading a magazine.

‘Hello,’ I said rather weakly.

She looked at me.

‘So you’re awake. About time you lazy sod. I’ve been up and about for ages.’

‘What happened?’

‘I…erm, someone else is going to explain…look, I have to get back to my room, there’s a dishy doctor that I’m cultivating, see you later.’

She left in a hurry and I was a bit puzzled by what she said.

I shut my eyes for a moment and opened them as a nurse walked in.

‘Hello, dear, how are you feeling?’

‘Okay, thanks.’

‘That’s good, let me just take your vitals.’

She stuck a themom..themeter…glass stick in my mouth and then grabbed my wrist, looking at her watch.

‘Okay, you should live for a while longer.’

‘What happened?’

‘When dear?’

‘To me?’

‘Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head about that; see you later.’

I said, ‘but,’ to a closing door.

I was left by myself then for a while. I could hear people going up and down the corridor but nobody came in.

Looking down, I could see that I was wearing one of those hospital gowns, white, shapeless and not very flattering. I wondered what the doctors and nurses thought about my gender thingie but then shrugged. The things that I had been through made it seem a bit inconseqwhatever.’

I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to see Tim standing at the bottom of the bed.

‘Tim!

‘Hello, Toni, how are you feeling?’

‘Okay, but what are you doing here?’

‘Don’t you want me here?’

‘Of course I do, but after the other night…’

‘Oh forget that. I just hope that you are okay.’

‘Yes, I’m fine I just want to get out of here.’

‘I spoke to the doctor…he was a bit preoccupied with your friend, Sheila, but I managed to get out of him that you can go back to your cabin after lunch.’

‘How long have I been here?’

‘About 36 hours. They wanted to flush out the drugs.’

‘Oh, I’m okay then?’

‘Yes, fighting fit.’

‘What happened to that man?’

‘Man?’

‘Yes, Roger’s boyfriend; he didn’t say his name.’

‘Mark Havers is his name. He’s in the brig and will be handed over to the authorities when we get back to England.’

‘How come you know so much?’

He looked embarrassed as he sat down by the bed.

‘Well, I have confession to make.’

‘What?’

‘Well, your Uncle was concerned about you and hired me to watch out for you.’

I was shocked and just blurted out, ‘You’re a private dick!’

‘I prefer the term security consultant and that is my job with your uncles company.’

‘But…but, I don’t understand.’

‘’Let me explain. After the trial, your uncle felt that you needed to get away and he arranged for this cruise with you and Sheila. He was concerned though that because of the publicity of the case and the fact that trouble seems to follow you around, you needed to be watched. I took on the job, together with my colleague, Samantha.’

‘The snooty bitch?’

He laughed.

‘Yes, she does do a nice line in snooty bitches.’

‘So you and she?’

‘What?’

‘You’re not?’

‘Good God no; she’s married with three kids.’

‘Oh.’

‘Anyway, to continue, we have been keeping an eye on you and watching those bumbling policemen as they tried to sort things out with no success. We noticed that you were being watched by someone and Samantha kept a close eye on him. We found out early on that he was bribing the crew and once the flowers started arriving we knew that he was responsible. We didn’t have a strong case though, so we kept him on a long leash and waited for him to do something that we could nail him on. We bugged his phone so we knew the silent phone calls were coming from his cabin. Also, with the captains’ permission, we were able to trace and record some ship to shore phone calls he made to Maidstone Prison.’

‘That’s where Roger is!’

‘That’s right. Anyway to cut a long story short, we needed as much evidence as possible to put Havers away for a long time, so we left it as long as possible before nabbing him.’

‘But we could have been killed!’

Tim looked unhappy at that.

‘Yes, sorry, that’s my fault. When we listened in to the conversations between Mark and Roger, Roger just said that he wanted you to be scared out of your wits. I think that Mark had decided for himself to do away with you and any other witnesses.’

‘How did you know how to find us?’

‘Samantha followed him after we realised that you wasn’t in your cabin. When she saw where he was going, she came for me and we came down with security staff and caught him in the act.’

‘Well I’m glad you did. I didn’t fancy being fish food!’

We were quiet for a minute. I wanted to say something but I didn’t know how to say it.

I gulped and in the spirit of the new forceful me I squeaked it out.

‘Tim.’

‘Is your voice okay, you sound funny?’

I coughed.

‘Sorry, look Tim…erm, as my Uncle employed you, does that mean that this has just been a job to you?’

He looked at me.

‘No it was more than that.’

‘How much more.’

‘I…I think I love you.’

You could have hit me over the head with a cricket bat and I don’t think I would have noticed. Then my deep dark secret welled up and grabbed me by the throat. I remembered what Patrick told me about lying to Tim. I had to tell him, even though it may mean the end of everything.

‘Tim...you don’t realty know me.’

‘I know you enough to realise that you are very important to me. You are sweet, lovely, funny and I want to get up close and personal with you.’

I went a bit gooey inside at that, but I had to hold firm.

‘Look Tim, I can’t keep the secret from you. You really don’t know all about me.’

‘What do you mean?’

I gulped, took a sip of tepid water from a plastic cup and then turned back to him.

‘I…I…I’m not a real girl.’

I could feel my eyes watering as I said those words. I didn’t look at him, I couldn’t.

‘What do you mean? Of course you are.’

‘I’m not, I am a boy; I have boy bits.’

‘So?’

I looked up and through my tears I could see him smiling.

‘You knew?’

‘Yes, your uncle thought that it was only fair and right that I should know, just in case there were any problems.’

‘But…but does that mean…’

He held my hand.

‘It doesn’t matter what’s between your legs, I love Toni the person. If you want to keep the boy bits or if you don’t; it doesn’t matter, I love you.’

I looked into his eyes and saw the passion and love in there.

‘I…I want to be a real girl, as much as I can.’

‘Okay, that will be lovely…we can explore your new body…together.’

‘Can I explore yours?’

‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’

The next day, I was out of the clutches of the doctor and nurse and back in my own cabin. I did a lot of sighing and gazing sightlessly out of the windows.

‘Oh for Gods’ sake, will you stop wheezing like that, the windows are getting condensation on them!’

I looked at Sheila, who was painting her toe nails with the concentration of Michelangelo doing his stuff on the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

‘Jealous?’

‘Of course not. I have several men hanging on my every word. Love is over rated though.’

‘No it’s not. Tim is lovely, sweet and has a gorgeous bottom.’

‘Men will always let you down, Love em, leave em and go onto the next one…that’s what I say.’

‘You can say what you like, Sheila…I’m happy with the way I am and once I have an innie instead of an outie, I’m going to make my Tim the happiest person alive.’

‘Oh please, I feel sick. Look I’ve told you, you can’t just go to a supermarket and get the op done. You need to see a gaggle of psychiatrists take enough pills to sink this ship, get hormonal and moody and a pain to live with. Then, if and when you have the operation, you have to stick things in you that are unpleasant at the least and bloody painful at the most. You want to go through that, just for love?’

‘Yes…and for me.’

‘I can’t take any more of this; I’m going for a walk, coming?’

‘I’ll be out later.’

‘Okay, I’ll meet you at the bar.’

Sheila left me to my thoughts. Did I really want to go through all that? I hadn’t been a girl all that long, though I suppose there must have been something in my background lurking away, waiting to come out at the right moment, otherwise, why did it feel so right?

I stood up and went over to the mirror. After touching up my makeup and brushing my hair, I considered changing. The yellow strappy sun dress that I was wearing looked okay though, so I left the cabin and walked out into the sunshine. Looking out to sea, there was no land in sight, just the wide blue Med. We were heading towards Greece, and I just fancied myself sitting next to the sea, a glass of wine in my hand and my eyes gazing lovingly into Tim’s eyes.

Sighing, I wondered along the deck, smiling and nodding people as I went.

‘Cooey!’

I knew that voice and as I turned, I saw Ronnie and Derek walking up to me.

‘Hello boys!’

‘Toni, you look lovely dear, doesn’t she Ronnie?’

‘Mmm, edible, shame you’re not a boy though.’

‘Ronnie, don’t be a tease.’

‘Just joking, love. Well Toni, how are you after your awful ordeal?’

‘Great thanks, just glad it’s all over.’

‘I was just saying to Derek that we think you should be the first to know.’

‘Know what?’

They both said it together.

‘We are getting married.’

‘To each other?’

‘Of course silly,’ said Derek looking at Ronnie and smiling.

‘When?’

‘As soon as we get back to England. We want you as a bride’s maid.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, as long as you don’t mind wearing a leather dress, it’s going to be biker themed.’

‘That sounds erm…nice.’

‘It will be. Anyway speak to you later; we are going for a sauna bath.’

‘OK, bye boys.’

I was thinking what sort of dress I was letting myself in for when I bumped into something soft, squelchy and smelly.

I stepped back and gasped as I saw that it was the hated Davis and he was holding a red rose in his hand.

‘Oh it’s you.’ I said, none too kindly.

He looked me up and down…correct that, leered me up and down. He had on an orange tee shirt and long green baggy shorts, he clashed with himself and you couldn’t miss him if you tried.

‘Oh it’s you.’

‘Yes, well it was, last time I looked in the mirror. Look, I’m not interested; I told you before.’

‘What?’

‘I said I’m not interested in your or your cheesy rose.’

He looked at the rose with a puzzled frown on his pock marked face.

‘Oh,’ he said smiling, showing his yellowed and miss-shaped teeth, ‘this isn’t for you, I have found someone who loves me?’

‘You have…I mean are you sure?’

‘Yes,’ he said looking over my shoulder, ‘here she is now.’

I turned around to see a woman coming toward us. She was old, ancient really. She creaked as she walked and had thick pebble glasses on. I recognised her, though she was out of uniform, it was the waitress who came to my cabin the other night!

Without another word to me, Davis went past and up to the woman, giving her the rose. She smiled, sniffed at it, sneezed, picked up her dentures from the floor and took his arm. They walked slowly back down the deck arm in arm, oblivious to anyone else.

I just shook my head and hoped that they would be happy. I couldn’t help thinking that the waitress could have done better.

I had agreed to meet Sheila at the bar and assumed that it would be the one we normally used. I walked in and there was Patrick.

‘Hello, Miss, would you like a screwdriver?’

‘No thanks Patrick and call me Toni, please. Can I have an orange and lemonade? I’m trying to keep a clear head.’

‘Very wise?’

He got my drink. It was quite busy in the bar and it was few minutes before I could speak to him again.

‘Thanks Patrick for being so nice the other night.’

‘Don’t mention it, all part of the service. Did you manage to sort things out?’

‘Yes thanks; I told Tim all about me and he’s cool.’

‘And the young lady you found in his room?’

‘Just a colleague.’

‘So, alls well that ends well.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Good, well, perhaps we’ll speak again. There’s a cocktail that you might like, it’s called A Long Slow Screw Up The Wall.’*

‘Sounds interesting; I’ll bring my boyfriend in later, perhaps we could try it together.’

Patrick just smiled and carried on working. There was no sign of Sheila, so I finished my drink and I made my way down to the Olympic sized swimming pool.

I sat down in one of the few deck chairs that didn’t have German towels on and just sucked up the atmosphere. I was just nodding off in the sunshine when I heard a sort of slurping noise, cracking open one eye I saw, with distaste, the young boy who had mentioned my uneven boobletts the other day. With one hand he was licking a cornet and with the other, exploring the upper reaches of his nose. I marvelled at how ambid..abidex…adidex…how he managed that, when he opened his mouth.

‘Your lumps are straight.’

I looked down and indeed, my lumps were correctly positioned.

‘Why?’

‘Why are your lumps straight?’

‘Because they are.’

‘Why?’

I looked at the boy, wondering whether homicide was justifiable when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone looking at me furtively. It was the tall man in a dark suit.

I was up out of the chair like a scalded puddy cat. I kept my eyes on him as I rushed towards him. The hairs on the back of my head were marching with precision up my scalp and despite the heat of the sun; I had gone decidedly goose bumpy.

He tried to fall back into the gloom of an archway but I had him.

As I got closer, I could see his black suit, white shirt and speckly grey tie. His mouth was curled into a grimace. A light sprinkling of sweat lay across his furrowed brow and he looked more than a little uncomfortable.

I skidded to a stop in front of him. He was a head taller than me, but I couldn’t give a damn about that. I had been through enough on this cruise to last a lifetime and I was not a happy bunny.

‘Right, what’s all this about. Why are you stalking me and looking all sinister. Everywhere I look, you are there, staring at me, then when I look back you’re gone, off to do something nasty to some little old lady or pinching sweets from tiny tots?’

‘Erm.’ he said.

‘Erm, isn’t good enough. Erm gets you nowhere. If all you can say is erm, I’ll call those two stupid policemen who are hiding behind the deck chairs over here and you can explain yourself to them.’

‘S…s…sorry, Miss.’

‘Not good enough. Mick, Dave, stop pretending to hide and come over here.’

In seconds the dynamic duo was by my side. I winced slightly at the Bermuda shorts, but I stayed on track.

‘Right, explain in clear English what the fu….flipping hell you are up to?’

He looked at me, then Mick and Dave and sighed.

‘I’m the ship’s photographer. I take candid shots of the passengers and then at the end of the cruise give them an album.’

‘You’re a photographer?’

‘Yes.’

‘You take pictures?’

‘That’s my job.’

‘You’re not some nasty sex fiend after my body?’

‘N…no Miss, the captain wouldn’t like it.’

‘Ah, where is your camera then?’

He picked up a bag from behind him and there it was; an industrial strength digital camera with lots of lens thingies.

I was at a bit of a loss what to say. I felt a bit foolish making a scene like that.

‘Right….well…don’t do it again,’

I turned decisively on my heal, proud of my command of the situation and walked away…straight into the swimming pool.

I went to the bottom flailing a bit. I could swim like a fish…a dead fish and I wondered fleetingly if I would see my life flash before me prior to drowning.

Then I suddenly felt strong hands grab me from behind and I went up like someone in a lift (that’s elevator for my American friends, though why it’s called an elevator I don’t know.) Anyway I was back on dry land in a jiffy. I didn’t need mouth to mouth and that was a pity, because the lifeguard was a bit dishy.

I said thanks, feeling a bit self concho…consciiu…embarrassed. Sheila rushed up to me.

‘Are you okay?

‘Yes, yes…I did it…erm on purpose, for a laugh.’

‘It didn’t look like it.’

‘Never mind that, where have you been?’

‘Oh the Captain has been showing me his port holes and steering wheel.’

I looked at her in awe.

‘You’ve hit the jackpot!’

She looked smug.

‘Yes, and he’s single.’

‘Jammy cow,’

‘Well, yes I suppose I am. I have to go now; he wants to show me his etchings.’

With that she was off.

I went back to my deck chair and sat down. I was still dripping a bit and I should have gone to change, but I needed a rest after my brief drowning incident in the pool.

Ignoring stares as best I could, I closed my eyes and sighed with relaxation. I was just drifting off to sleapybyes (is that a word? it should be, if it isn’t) when I heard a familiar sucking and slurping noise.

I opened my eyes and there he was again, licking his ice cream and trying to get his index finger as far up his nose as possible.

‘What?’ I said.

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why are your bumps floating in the swimming pool?’

The End

* Thanks for the Cocktail idea, Karen J!

All comments will be gratefully received and passed on to the less fortunate.