When Abigail's Aunt Harriet told her she could bring along a friend with her to stay for Easter, she didn't stipulate until later it had to be a girl. But what was going on in the little village, cut-off from the rest of the world? This is a story set partly at Seacombe Independent Girls' High School, commonly known as SIGHS and involves young people involved in such things as humour, adventure, crossdressing and growing-up.

Author's Note: This story is complete and will be published in four parts at approximately daily intervals.

It was the usual boring post-Easter thing. "For your homework," Miss Jenkins said, "write a story about what you did over the Easter holidays."

If only Miss Jenkins knew the truth of it! What I did over Easter was anything but boring. In fact, I want to write down what really happened. Afterwards, I'll put a few words together for Miss Jenkins and hand that in on Thursday. OK, so here goes.

Everything that happened over the Easter holidays began with that bitchy comment by Stephanie Turner. Until then, I'd thought of her as a friend; not a particularly close friend but certainly someone I'd occasionally go back home with to help her with her homework

"I suppose, Abigail," she said to me with a smirk, "you'll be spending Easter with your boyfriend?"

It was a couple of weeks before the end of school term, and I'd just returned to the Common Room to find everyone in a discussion about where they were going for their Easter holidays – Bermuda, The Seychelles, Thailand – the names dripped from their lips as though quoting from an article in Vogue. At a private school you have to put up with that kind of bull, and so I'd simply kept quiet, content to listen in envy.

I was one of the six boarders at SIGHS – the Seacombe Independent Girls High School. Both my parents currently worked in Iraq – not the kind of place where you brought out your children to live with you – or even for holidays, and they had job contracts for many months ahead and couldn't come home for Easter. So I was fully expecting to be on my own for the holidays – apart, that is, from Mr and Mrs Carter who ran the SIGHS boarding house as virtual foster parents.

I returned her smile. "You mean Harry Fielding? No, he's off somewhere exotic." We'd only been out together once so I was rather pleased that Stephanie was referring to that dishy hunk as my 'boyfriend'.

"Harry?" She stared as me though I was an alley cat admiring a king. "Of course not. The Fielding family are sharing a villa in Bermuda with us. No, I meant Benjamin Walters. He's your boyfriend, isn't he?"

The bitch! The absolute bitch! "Benjamin Walters is not my boyfriend," I retorted. I could feel a flush coming to my cheeks. "He's only fourteen, for heaven's sake."

"And a little runt with it," Stephanie agreed. "But I thought flat-chested girls like you had to take any boy they could get. Anyway, you've been seen together lots of times."

I ignored the comment about the size of my AA-cup boobs. Against her pair of 34Ds, it was an argument I could never win. "I only see him in the holidays, and that's because he's usually the only boy at SPS who doesn't go home." Benjamin boarded at the boys' public school and was in the school year below mine. I knew he fancied me, but I made certain that relationship never went beyond friendship. Stephanie was right in one respect; he was a little runt.

My best friend, Anna Vaughan, broke into the conversation then – I think to take the heat off me. "Well I have to spend Easter with my aunts, uncles and cousins, and I dislike almost every one of them. I quite envy you, Abigail, being on your own."

I gave her a smile of thanks, the school bell rang and, for once, I gratefully went off to one of Mr Duncan's boring Chemistry lessons.

***

"You could get bigger boobs if you wanted, you know," Anna said to me later that day, "and I'm not talking about plastic surgery."

"Bigger boobs without plastic surgery? You mean these hormone creams that you see? Do they work?"

"No. Not creams," Anna said. "There's a shop in town called Big Busts. They make these skin-like garments that look like big breasts. Apparently, they're very realistic."

"Really? I bet they're expensive."

Anna nodded. "Hundreds if not thousands of pounds. One of the girls in the music academy has one she doesn't use. I could ask her if we could borrow it."

"But," I pointed out, "it's no good having big boobs for a couple of weeks if my breasts are going to return to minuscule afterwards."

"Why not borrow it over the Easter holidays," she suggested. "If it's as good as they say, you could persuade your parents to buy you one as a special Easter present."

"Hmm." I couldn't really imagine getting much sympathy from my mum on that subject, who always admired my tall, willowy shape, and I'd be far too embarrassed to talk to my dad about it. Still, there was no harm in borrowing it for a while, was there?

***

Emily Davis was quite friendly when we went to see her after school the next day. She explained that her mother had originally been working for the company who made them, and had borrowed several for her sister's friends. One had been returned late, and it had never found its way back to the company. Apparently, it had been used several times before by other friends. She took us upstairs to her bedroom and went to get the item from her sister's room, where it was kept.

"Oh," I said, as she held up for inspection a skin-coloured, leotard-like garment with a high neck. "I thought it would be like a padded bra rather than a leotard. Why is it that shape?"

"This is called a Torsolet," Emily said. "It's designed to bolster out the hips and bum as well as the breasts. If you want a figure-eight shaped body then this is definitely for you, but that's a bit outdated now. It's really designed for males to wear, so that their hips are as wide as their shoulders."

"Males to wear!" Both Anna and I said the same words.

Emily smiled. "Oh, yes. Put this on a boy and he immediately has a girl's body."

"How weird," I said.

Emily's smile grew even wider. "Not really," she said, by which we guessed she'd done it to some boy before.

"Try it on," she said to me. "It's all right," she added as she saw my hesitation, "it has been washed since the last person used it."

To be honest, I wasn't really keen on it, but I'd put Anna and Emily to a lot of trouble, so I didn't want to back out now. Emily explained how I needed to spread a gel over my body before donning the Torsolet, to avoid perspiration collecting. "Use the green gel," she explained, "if you only want to wear it for a couple of hours. The red gel is semi-permanent. Use that and you'll be stuck in the thing for ten to fourteen days, so it's only for when you've decided to continuously wear it."

So I stripped naked before them and Emily helped to spread the green gel all over, from the top of my neck down to my groin, although I made certain I did the bit between my legs. With Emily's help, I pulled the Torsolet over my head and then down my body. As soon as I had my head through the neck of it, I glanced down and was horrified at the enormous boobs protruding from my chest. Is this what Stephanie Turner continually looked down upon? How embarrassing!

"We'll sort out the plumbing later on," Emily said. "Let's fasten the gusset between your legs."

She went to pass the gusset under my groin but I stopped her. I felt quite sensitive about people putting their hands there. I pulled it through and she helped to fasten it at the rear.

"Wow! What a body," Anna said.

"Yes," I agreed, staring at the mirror with a revulsion I was trying hard not to show. "It certainly makes a huge difference."

"You'll be able to pull all the boys, now," Anna said.

"I guess I will," I said. "But do I really want to pull boys who are only interested in my boobs?"

"All boys are interested in boobs," Emily said. "They may see other things in you as well, but as a starter, boobs work wonders. But with boobs that size, you need to know you'll attract lots of attention just walking down the street. Do you want to go home in it now?"

"No!" I gasped, trying not to offend Emily by saying I never wanted to wear it again.

***

So that might have been it, had not my Aunt Harriet telephoned that evening to invite me to stay for Easter. She lived in Combehaven, just a few miles outside Seacombe in a lovely rambling house on the banks of the River Combe. Occasionally, I'd gone to stay there with my parents as a child. Now I was boarding locally, we met up more often on weekends. She'd take me into Seacombe for a cream tea, or perhaps a trip to the cinema.

OK, it was nice getting out of school for a while, but Aunt Harriet was decidedly weird. She was an illustrator for a children's book publisher, and always brought a sketch pad with her, wherever she went. A walk to the cinema and she'd suddenly push me in front of a sweet shop and start sketching. It was even worse when I went to her house. She had these little girl dresses I had to put on whilst I sat for her in various poses around the house and garden. At least, when her illustrations appeared in the books, she'd made my face unrecognisable. Can you imagine what Stephanie Turner would have said if she knew about that?

So Easter with Aunt Harriet meant I'd spend the whole of the holidays being sketched whilst I looked and felt totally stupid. On the other hand, wasn't that better than being on my own around school, with only Benjamin Walters for company.

Sensing my hesitation she added, "Bring a friend if you want." I immediately thought of Anna who'd been complaining about Easter with her family. Wouldn't it be fun to spend Easter with her in my aunt's rambling house? There was an additional advantage with Anna that, with her younger-looking features, it would be her who Aunt would pounce upon to dress up and be drawn.

"Thanks Aunt," I said. "That sounds a great idea. I'm sure my friend Anna would love to come."

"That's settled then," she said, and I was left with a little excited glow in my tummy.

***

"Of course I can't get out of Easter with my family," Anna said next morning after I'd relayed the invitation. "My parents would kill me."

It was the same with all my other friends I asked that day.

"You'll just have to ask Benjamin," Anna said after I'd told her my woes. "I promise I won't tell Stephanie."

I had been thinking of Ben, but Anna's suggestion seemed to give the idea a ring of approval. I telephoned him on his mobile that evening. He was downhearted when I told him I was going to be away from school at my aunt's for Easter, but when I asked him to join me he was so overjoyed. For some stupid reason, I had this warm glow in my tummy at the very thought of spending the hols with him. Don't get me wrong, no way do I have any kind of romantic feelings for Ben, and I'm certainly not the kind of girl who opens her legs for any boy who fancies her. (Well, actually I haven't opened my legs for anyone, but that's by the bye.) Still, I did bask in a sort of afterglow; it was just a shame I couldn't announce it to all and sundry.

***

That kind of yummy feeling continued until the Saturday evening before term ended. My aunt rang to confirm the pickup arrangements for lunchtime on Tuesday, after the staff had put on their end of term play – usually a very jolly occasion. I told her I'd be bringing Ben, rather than Anna.

"A boy. You can't ring a boy."

"But Aunt," I protested. "You've got plenty of bedrooms in your house. He's not my boyfriend. We're not sleeping together."

"It would have been simpler if you were. The problem is that the house is full of Eastern European students at the moment. The old schoolhouse in the village has been turned into a school for English as a Foreign Language, and all the villagers are accommodating them. I've set aside a bedroom for you and Anna, but the other rooms are all multi-occupied by a dozen young women studying EFL. I'm sorry, but you simply can't bring a boy along."

I was heartbroken – no, that sounds stupid, as though I really did have feelings for the little runt. But I was certainly dismayed at the idea of Easter with only my eccentric aunt for company, apart from a bunch of women students who couldn't talk English. As for the idea of telephoning Ben and telling him he couldn't come, I simply didn't have the courage. I decided I'd leave it until the following morning.

Then, as I was going to bed and hanging my clothes up in my wardrobe, I saw the Torsolet, still untouched since I brought it back from Emily Davis.

Wham! The idea hit me between the eyes. It would never work, of course. He'd never agree to it, for a start. Would he?

Even if he did, my clothes would never fit him wearing the Torsolet. I remembered the debacle at Emily's house, when she and Anna had tried to insist that rather than taking off the Torsolet, I wore it back to school. My bra would have looked simply ridiculous trying to cup those enormous breasts. Omitting the bra, I buttoned up my blouse squashing up the breasts so the buttons kept popping open. The nipples poked through like thimbles.

"Put your jacket on," Anna suggested.

But the jacket wouldn't do up so it gaped open, leaving me looking like a St Trinians tart.

"The Torsolet does adjust," Emily said. "Only it's a bit fiddly and I need to get on with my schoolwork. Why not take it off for now and carry it back in its bag? You can adjust it in your dorm, tonight."

"Good idea," I said, thankful to escape further embarrassment, and vowing never to touch it again until after Easter, when I could return it with thanks.

So if I really was going to dress Ben up as a girl, I'd need to borrow some clothes from a busty friend – someone I could trust to keep quiet about everything. Anna was far too short, and she was only a B-cup, anyway. And as I ran through my list of friends, I realised the only one who qualified with the right bra size was Stephanie Turner. But not only would she rib me mercilessly about going away with Ben, she'd embarrass him by telling everyone that he was a tranny. That aside, she'd had special permission from the headmistress to start her holidays early, so she'd flown out to Bermuda that very morning. Fat lot of help she was going to be.

I went to bed with no workable solution to the problem.

***

Next morning it was one of those wet and miserable days. I made a mental note to pack all my warm clothes and raingear for the trip to my aunt's. Whilst she normally kept the house warm, it would be good to take walks along the wooded river valley on days like this. Except that I remembered loaning Stephanie my anorak a couple of weeks ago, prior to that bitchy remark about Ben and she hadn't yet returned it.

Have you noticed that some ideas, like the one last night, come with a 'Wham!' – others come with a very subdued 'Dong.' This was definitely one of the latter. As I've already mentioned, I've occasionally gone home with Stephanie to help her with her homework. I knew under which stone the key to the front door was kept; I'd also watched her type the numbers 3578 into the alarm system – notable for being such an easily guessed combination – look at any keypad if you don't know why. So there was nothing to stop me popping round there this morning, recovering my anorak and perhaps borrowing a few of her nice sweaters and some waterproof leggings. In fact…

I had another 'Dong' then.

***

"Hi Ben. How are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm really looking forward to spending Easter hols with you."

"Ah." I paused a little, to give him time to realise there was bad news coming.

"Ah what?" he asked.

"There's a problem," I said. "My aunt was expecting me to bring a girl. Normally, there are plenty of spare rooms in her house, but at the moment she's let them all to foreign students. It means there's only one room left."

"You mean," he said, sounding as though he'd just won the lottery, "we have to share a room?"

"No way!" I said. "Even if I was crazy enough to want to share a room with you, my aunt would never allow it."

"I don't understand," he said. "Where am I going to sleep?"

"That's just it," I said, "I'm afraid there's nowhere for a boy to sleep."

"You mean I can't come." He sounded as though he was about to cry, and I was quite touched that he so wanted to come on holiday with me.

"Well," I said. "The only thing is… Well, if we disguised you as a girl you could then share my room."

"Disguised me as a girl? I'd look stupid."

"I don't think so. As long as it was done properly."

"But I'm the wrong shape. My face is wrong. My hair… Everything."

"OK," I said. "I accept it might be a challenge, but are you all right with the principle?

"That's to say," I said before he could say no, "that if we succeed in fooling my aunt, you get to sleep in a room with me."

"Sleep in room with you?" His lottery number really had come up.

"In separate beds, Ben. I'm not going to bed with you."

"Oh sure. Yes. Of course. I mean, I wouldn't try anything like that. Of course not." Yeah, like the idea had never crossed his mind.

"That's the deal, Ben. If you say you'll give it a try, you have to be a girl for the whole of the holiday. No switching to a boy when you feel a bit randy."

"No. Of course I wouldn't do that."

Yeah, I thought, and I'd refuse a million pounds if it was offered.

***

Playing hooky on the last day of school was simple – not only were all the staff dressing for their parts in the play, but no one could possibly suspect that any girl would want to play hooky on that fun-filled morning. So Anna and I went to our form class to get our names ticked off the register, and then, when everyone else wandered off to the hall to get the best seats for the play, Anna and I dived into the toilets. We waited there until the performance had started, and then walked as bold as brass out of the main gate, our rucksacks on our backs. I went straight to Stephanie's house but Anna said she had to pop to the shops first and would be along shortly. The key was under the stone where it had always been, and the same combination turned off the alarm. Ten minutes later, Ben was ringing the doorbell.

"Come in Ben," I greeted him. "It's really great that we're going to be two girls together for a couple of weeks."

"If it works," he said. "I still think I'm going to look like a boy in girl's clothes."

"Firstly," I said, "come upstairs and see what I've brought for you."

You should have seen his face when I showed him the Torsolet. His eyes almost popped out of his head, and then he got all embarrassed about looking at the more private areas, if you know what I mean.

"You're going to have to get used to looking at girl bits," I told him. "Now, did you wear your swimming trunks beneath your uniform?" He nodded, so I told him to get stripped off.

***

Anna arrived a few minutes later, which I was quite pleased about. For after Ben had taken off his shoes and socks, and then unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, he stopped undressing and just stood there like a wally.

"Is there a problem?" I asked him. "I mean, you haven't forgotten to put on your swimming trunks, have you?"

"No. It's... well..."

"Then for heaven's sake get stripped off. We've got a lot to do and not much time to do it. I'm not going to see anything I haven't seen at the swimming pool."

So he unfastened his trousers, pulled them down and that was when I realised the problem he had. He had a massive boner in his swimming trunks! That's to say, I'd not had a lot to compare it with, but it looked massive to me, and the very thought of where that wanted to go dominated my attention. I wasn't certain whether it was through revulsion or attraction. Fortunately, the doorbell rang then and I went down to let in Anna.

"It's so embarrassing," I said after telling her the problem.

"That's easily sorted," she said. "Where is he?"

She marched up to Stephanie's bedroom with me trailing uncertainty behind. I knew she'd had far more boyfriends than me – was she going to toss him off or give him a blowjob?

Instead, as she marched up to him, she said, "You can stop waving that around." She had her school satchel over her shoulder and she suddenly pulled one of those metal nail files out of it and went to stab him right at the base of his bulge, where I guessed his rocks must be.

"Shit!" he said, just managing to deflect her blow. "You're fucking crazy." His boner, I noticed had completely disappeared. Like magic.

"Girls do not use language like you've just used," I told him. "If you want to spend the next two weeks at my aunt's, you'll have to behave properly. Do you understand, or is it all off?"

"Sorry," he said, "but I thought Anna was going to take it all off. She took me by surprise."

"Well, you took me by surprise," I said. "Thrusting that out, and don't think you're going to be doing that again for the next two weeks.

"Of course not." He thought he was lying to us, but we knew differently.

***

The next few hours were a flurry of activity. Fortunately, he hadn't yet started sprouting a beard, but we sprayed hair remover over his legs and arms. Amazingly he had really attractive legs without the hair. Then we applied the red gel all over his upper body down as far as his swimming trunks. I didn't bother to mention that he'd be stuck in the thing for two weeks – after all, hadn't he agreed he'd be a girl for that time with no more erections?

Anyway, we pulled the Torsolet over his head and down his body, and then shoved him into the bathroom with instructions to spread the gel over his private bits, then feed them into a pocket on the underside of the gusset which then fastened between the legs. I'd had a good look at the Torsolet when I washed it out after getting it back to school. To be honest, I couldn't work out where he was going to pack all the equipment I'd seen evidence of earlier. But I could work out how the wee came out. The really weird thing was it had a quim buried in the squishy padding in the gusset. Somehow, I didn't think Ben would be using that, any more than I intended using mine.

When he emerged from the bathroom, both Anna and I were shocked at the change. Gone was the little runt; instead was a body not that dissimilar to Stephanie's! His head still looked quite boyish, but I reckoned a bit of makeup and a restyle of his hair, and no one would doubt they were looking at a girl. Actually, the restyling took us quite a long time as we messed up our first attempt and had to start again. It was well worth doing so, as by then, Ben had given up asking what we were doing, and we could use Stephanie's blonde hair dye on him. And I always thought she was a natural blonde!

Anna did most of the work on his hair, whilst I helped with the difficult bits. In the meantime, I sorted through Stephanie's clothes so we could 'borrow' some to take with us. I found an old rucksack of Stephanie's with a huge picture of Barbie Doll on the outside, which I thought would be more suitable than the empty rucksack he'd brought with him.

Three hours later, two girls in school uniform left Stephanie's house, Anna having departed earlier, in order to meet her parents and get carted off to relatives for Easter. I'd deliberately told Aunt Harriet to arrive at the school for one-thirty, giving ample time for the rest of the school to disperse before we got back there. I didn't want any of my friends or teachers to start wondering who the new girl was.

***

Fortunately, we only had to wait ten minutes outside the school before Aunt Harriet arrived in a beaten up Land Rover station wagon, the sort with lots of seats in the back.

"Hi girls," she greeted us, as I opened the passenger door. "Pleased to meet you Stevie." I'd already explained that I was bringing Stevie Turner instead of Anna.

"Hello, Mrs Barker," Ben said. He normally spoke quite softly, and Anna and I had agreed it was best not to try to change it, by talking falsetto or whatever. "Thank you so much for inviting me to stay with Abigail."

"Dump your rucksacks in the back," Aunt directed, "and then you can both sit up here next to me."

We pushed our rucksacks inside the rear passenger door and it was just then I heard a car pulling out of the vehicular exit from SIGHS. I glanced around and nervously smiled directly into the face of Miss Harper, the Head. She normally terrified me, but she gave me a lovely smile in return, and then glanced at the other girl in SIGHS uniform standing beside me. I had to say that Stephanie's uniform fitted Ben superbly and no one could have guessed there was really a boy underneath. But Miss Harper knew every one of her 423 girls, and her face turned like thunder as she looked at Ben. It was as though she not only knew there was a non-SIGHS person in her school's uniform, but that it was actually a boy.

Then, she glanced down to the watch on her wrist and I could see her calculating the time. Everyone knew she was flying out today to get the last of the winter snow at a Swiss skiing resort. She clearly had not left herself much time to get to the airport. Her face set into a 'Just wait until next term' look, and she drove past us.

"She looked in a foul mood," Aunt said, as we squeezed in beside her. "You'd think she'd be pleased it was the end of term."

Quick as a flash, Ben, bless him, said, "I'm afraid I'm not in her good books at the moment. Still, I'm trying hard to be a good girl from now on."

"How boring," Aunt replied with a smile. "I hope you won't be too angelic."

"I don't think that's very likely," I said. "There's not much of the good girl inside Stevie."

"So what would you be doing, Stevie," Aunt conversationally said, "if Abby hadn't invited you on holiday with us?"

I almost froze solid and it wasn't just because she'd called me Abby rather than Abigail, in front of one of my friends. I realised how I should have thought through some sort of cover story, but I'd been totally preoccupied with the physical aspects of the conversion without thinking of more complex issues.

"My mum remarried recently," Ben said, "and I don't really get on with my stepfather. They're going to Jamaica for a couple of weeks. Spending time with Abigail in rainy Britain seems idyllic in comparison."

It all came out so easily; Ben had told the exact truth and it sounded great. And he'd called me Abigail.

"Well just remember," Aunt quipped, "that two negatives don't always make a positive." Huh! My aunt's sense of humour could be quite trying.

"I not only love this time of year," Ben said, "when it's wet and miserable outside and I'm warm and dry inside a house, but Abigail has been fantastic for me in the past year. A really warm shoulder to cry on."

OK, I know what you're thinking here: physical intimacy. But he really was crying so I simply gave him a hug and he blubbered on my shoulder. Made a real mess on my school jacket, actually; took me ages to get it off. Whatever. I decided it was time to change subject.

"So Aunt," I asked. "What's this with these foreign students?"

She gave a little grimace. "To be honest, things haven't been too busy with my illustration work. So when Mrs Starkey decided to open up the old schoolroom as an English as a Foreign Language college, taking in lodgers was a way of boosting my income. I've got a dozen students – all girls, thank heavens – so they help out around the house, do the cooking and cleaning – it's all part of the deal. They're actually no trouble at all."

"Who's Mrs Starkey?" I asked, feeling I should know but not able to place her. I'd visited Aunt's house infrequently as a little girl, and once or twice when I'd first started boarding at SIGHS, twenty months ago, but had only met a few neighbours.

"She used to be the village schoolmistress, before the council closed it down, aeons ago, so she switched to teaching EFL at local colleges. She still lives in the village, though.

"I'd better warn you," she continued, as she changed down and swung the Land Rover onto an unmade road, "that it gets pretty rough along this track. The floods last year brought down the bridge, and the council say it's not a public road so they won't repair it, and there's no way the few villagers can afford it. We have to take this track to get around it."

"Is that why we're in a Land Rover?" I asked as we lurched down a pothole.

"My car was useless on this track," Aunt said, "so I sold it. Couldn't afford to get my own 4x4, so a number of us clubbed together to buy this heap. We share the running costs."

"So do you not have any illustration work on at the moment?" I asked, both concerned for my aunt's well-being, but also rather pleased we wouldn't have to be modelling for her.

"Actually, I picked up a new commission a couple of weeks ago," she said. "It's different from normal – a graphic novel for teenagers with reading difficulties." She gave me a rather apologetic sideways glance. "It's about two teenage Victorian girls."

"Aunt!" I gasped, amazed at her audacity. "Let me guess. Immediately after getting the commission, you rang me up and invited me to stay over Easter and bring along a friend."

She nodded. "That's about it."

"Hang on," I said, "did you say it was about Victorian girls. But what about our clothes?"

"No problem," Aunt said. "I've been to a theatrical costumer and got some lovely Victorian dresses. You'll both look lovely in them."

"Aunt!" I protested, but knew it was too late. We had no alternative; we'd been well and truly shafted.

***

"Aunt!" I protested again, but with even greater justification. "It's a double bed." We'd arrived at the house and she'd taken us straight up to our bedroom.

"I told you about that when you wanted to bring along that boy," she said. "I said it would be no problem if you were sleeping together."

I heard Ben gasp besides me. That wasn't exactly what I'd told him. "Well I'm not sleeping with anyone," I said.

"You are now," she said. She turned to Ben and asked, as bold as brass, "You're not a lesbian, are you Stevie?"

She took us both by surprise. "Er..." Ben started to say. "Well, er, n..."

"Yes she is, Aunt," I broke in. "That's the problem. Stevie's a lesbian."

"I always could tell when you were lying," Aunt said without rancour. "Now unpack your bags and come downstairs and meet the girls."

"No way are you going to sleep with me," I said, once she'd left the room. "You'll have to sleep..."

"Don't worry," Ben said with a grin, "we'll put some pillows down the centre of the bed, then my honour will be safe."

I couldn't help returning his smile. Of course both our honours were safe; Ben was wearing the Torsolet and was stuck in it for at least the next ten days. "OK," I said. "But there'll be no wandering palms all over my body."

His grin widened into a smile. "Abigail, just relax. I'm a girl, remember? I promise I'll do my best to behave like one all the time I'm here."

"You're really enjoying being a girl, aren't you?"

His grin became rather sheepish. "I don't normally have much confidence," he confessed. "I remember when we first met, it was you who came up to me and asked if I was the new boy at SPS. I'd never have dared to come up to you, even though I'd seen you coming out of SIGHS."

"And now?" I asked.

"It's funny," he said, "I thought I'd be terrified wearing girl's clothes but instead..."

"Instead?"

"Well... I feel great. You obviously know what it's like to be attractive and having boys – and men – staring at you." Did I? "When we were standing outside SIGHS and those boys from SPS walked past, I should have been terrified they were going to recognise me. Instead I was on a high that they were looking at us as two sexy girls."

Me? Sexy? One half of me was all a flutter whilst the other half declared that he was a little runt for whom I had no feelings – not romantically, anyway.

He waved towards the window. "That's a fantastic view."

I was glad he'd changed the subject. He was right of course. The house, stood right on the bank of the River Coombe, as it meandered between wooded hills.

"You can't see the best view of all," I replied. "There's a boathouse built into the house. Aunt's got a boat in there and we can go out on the river and look back at this lovely rambling old house. It seems so romantic seen like that." I paused. Why had I said romantic? "I mean in a mysterious way," I added.

"It sounds fantastic," he said. "Thank you so much for thinking of me and inviting me here."

"Well you won't think so much of me when Aunt forces us into Victorian clothes, and we have to stand about posing."

He smiled again. "Now I'm a girl, I guess I can confess that I love costume dramas on TV. I'm really looking forward to dressing up in those long elegant dresses. But talking of dressing up, could you help me get changed into some jeans? I think it's going to take me some time to get used to wearing a skirt which lets the wind blow up to my bum."

"Ah," I said. "I meant to talk to you about that. You know I told you we'd borrow Stephanie's clothes, and that she had dozens of pairs of jeans?"

He nodded, a look of caution on his face.

"Well when I sorted through them, I found they'd all be far too small for your huge hips and bum. I'm sorry, but the only things I could find which would fit around the hips were her skirts and dresses."

As his mouth gaped open, I added, "There's no problem with your tops, of course. You and Stephanie are about the same size, so you do have some lovely outfits."

I still wasn't clear in my own mind why I'd deliberately ignored the many stretch leggings Stephanie had which would have fitted Ben perfectly; maybe it was me thinking back to the fun I used to have dressing up my dolls. My Barbies and Sindys were never allowed to wear trousers.

I was expecting an outburst but instead he said, "It's a good job you thought about that. It would have totally given the game away if I'd arrived with several pairs of jeans which didn't fit. I guess I'll have to get used to wearing skirts sooner than I expected. So can you help me choose something to wear?"

We went downstairs a few minutes later and Ben looked fantastic in a tight denim skirt and a white sweater with matching blue flowers, which superbly followed Ben's curves. Even Stephanie's shoes were the right size, and I'd chosen Stephanie's lovely light-blue trainers to go with the clothes. I'd smuggled a couple of pairs of heels into my rucksack along with some stockings which I'd introduce him to in a few days' time – I didn't want to freak him out straightaway.