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No Half Measures

by Jenny Walker

First Movement

CHAPTER 1

I began to belt it out as my fingers hammered the keyboard's keys,

"So take a good look at me now.....
I'll still be standing here.....
and you coming back to me is against all odds.....
and that's a chance I'll have to take....
so take a look at me now."

The final chords faded and I looked up, smiled and into the microphone said, "Thank you, have a good night folks." As the usual crescendo of applause hit my ears I felt that buzz, that indefinable rush that I always got with performing. Perhaps some people got used to it, but I doubted I ever would. I hoped I wouldn't. I looked around the club and through the smoky haze saw folks chatting, ordering a last drink or getting ready to go. I leaned back in my chair and after a few slow breaths, found the energy to rise and steeled myself for the hated task of packing up my equipment.

At last the keyboard was in its case as was my guitar. The sequencer was carefully packed away with my laptop, all cables neatly coiled and bagged, and my amplifier unplugged and ready to go. By now the club was practically empty and the staff were beginning to clear up. Dave came over and offered to help me lug my gear down to my car. I gratefully accepted. "Great set as usual," he remarked as I packed the stuff into the back of my beat-up Ford Fiesta.

I stood back, everything packed in tight, I wiped my brow and grinned, "Thanks Dave. Good number in tonight."

He smiled, "Thursday nights with Nick Evans are becoming a popular tradition in The Last Stop". He handed over a brown envelope, "There you go Nick," his brow furrowed, "Real sorry I can't give you more, you know I'd love to, but making ends meet and all that."

I shrugged and waved a hand at him as I took the envelope, "Dave, you know I'd gladly do it for free..." I paused, "If I could live on air alone." I winked.

He laughed and replied, "You know I think you would. Say, any comeback from your recent demo?"

I winced as he reminded me. "Yeah well, I've got to go and meet one of the agents at Sony tomorrow." I stuck my hands in my pockets and idly kicked the kerb with my right foot, "But I don't hold out much hope," I continued, looking at the ground. Which was a lie, as I had great hopes, great dreams, but was well aware of their potential to be shattered yet again.

"Well, it's their loss if they turn you away if you ask me," Dave replied giving what was probably supposed to be a friendly light punch on the shoulder. However as he was 6 foot something and somewhere over 200 pounds and I was, well a good bit less than that -- I staggered and nearly fell over. "Sorry man," he said with an apologetic smile.

I shrugged and waved. "No problem, I'll see you next week," as I got into my car. "Good luck tomorrow," he called as I pulled the door closed.

----------*----------

When the alarm blared at seven the next morning, I groaned--and despite trying to ignore it, turn it off, destroy it or at least maim it--I eventually remembered I had deliberately placed it out of reach of my bed to protect it against such intended destructive actions. I dragged myself out of bed and heading for the shower muttering, "Damn it, I'm an artist. Shouldn't have to get up at such ungodly hours." I worked late into the night and rarely rose before mid-morning, but not today.

Getting dressed in the one and only suit I owned, I thought briefly about breakfast but the immediate wave of nausea that crashed over me laid that idea to rest. I checked myself in the mirror and tried to make my straggly shoulder-length black mane look something approaching respectable. I heard my mother's tones in my head, "Nicholas, would you not think of a haircut once in a while?" I grinned to myself as I heard myself tell her I was an artist and not subject to the same expectations of society as the worker drones were. I sighed as the usual progression of such conversations played through my mind inevitably moving towards the issue of me getting a 'proper job' or the like. With the current feeling in my stomach, a part of me was siding with my mother this morning. I shrugged, straightened my tie and headed out the door.

From my Greenwich bed-sit flat, it was about a 35 minute ride on the Tube with one change to get to the headquarters of Sony Music in central London. Sitting in the crowded carriage, I played my demo disc over and over in my head. I was damn proud of this one. I had poured body and soul into the writing of these songs. They were full of emotion, pathos -- full of me. I had recorded them again and again on my digital four-track recorder until I was at last fully satisfied with them.

I had no doubt that this was the best I could do, and hence why I felt so nervous this time. Hell, I had had plenty of experience of rejection but up to now I had used the negative feelings to spur me to better writing, better singing and performing. This time? This time I wasn't sure if I had anything more to give. I had chosen Sony as on my previous round of rejections, they were the most positive. If it is possible to have a positive rejection that is.

As I walked up Great Marlborough Street towards the Sony building, I thought I was going to have to stop and throw up in the street. "Get a grip would you," I muttered to myself and then I noticed the look a woman passer-by gave me. I just smiled and nodded to her as I walked on. Inside the building the plush entrance lobby was probably twice the square footage of my miserable flat and the cheerful girl behind the desk, after checking her computer, told me to go to the 4th floor lobby and ask for Simon Andrews.

I was kept waiting of course. I expected nothing less. After 40 minutes a tall tanned guy in what had to be an Armani suit came out and, effusively apologising, introduced himself as Simon Andrews. He ushered me into his office which needless to say was large, plush and expensively furnished. I politely declined his offer of coffee as my stomach did another somersault and I sat in the proffered leather chair as he sat down behind his desk.

"Well, Nick," he began with a smile, his palms face down on his desk, "Can I call you Nick?" he asked and then carried on without waiting for an answer. "I have to say I was really impressed with your demo. Strong songs, good writing, good performing." He paused.

I felt my heart was going to break through my chest, but I managed to keep it in and smiled faintly, "Thanks."

He nodded, "Yes, good songs, accomplished writing. You obviously have a talent." He paused again and nodded and I began to get an impending feeling of doom. There was a 'but' looming on the horizon I was sure.

"However," he said with a slow intake of breath, "although the songs and the musical performance are very strong, I'm just not sure that your vocals are exactly what we would be looking for at this current time." He smiled apologetically.

It was that old familiar kick in the stomach feeling. My vocals weren't strong enough? I don't have much of an ego, but I did feel I had a good voice. After letting his words sink in, I steeled myself and made myself ask the pathetic questions, "So you are not sure? Not what you are looking for at the moment, but maybe another time?" I hated myself for asking.

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and that was all the answer I needed, but he spelt it out, "Look to be honest Nick, we wouldn't be considering taking you on as an artist," he paused and half-winced, "now, or at anytime, really." He spread his hands.

I nodded, "OK. Thanks for being straight with me." Sure thanks for kicking me in the teeth, for removing the last straw of hope. I don't know what it was that made me press on. "I'm sorry for going on," I began, "but it would be helpful for me if you could explain just why my vocals aren't what you are looking for."

He nodded as if to say 'fair enough' and with a bit of hesitation replied, "Well, I don't know quite how to put it....," his voice trailed off and he looked like he was searching for the right words.

Instead of telling him 'where' he could put it I stifled the reflexive urge and said, "Look, just give it to me straight, I can take it." I lied.

"Alright," he said a little more happily, "to be honest in today's climate we are looking for male vocalists with voices that are stronger, more commanding."

I blinked a few times, "But my voice is strong." I was a little puzzled.

He nodded, "Ye-es, it is a strong voice, however what we are looking for is a voice with...." he paused and wrinkled his brow, "with more balls, let's say."

I sighed, and rubbed my chin, "Was that the only reason?" As I asked I knew from his expression that it wasn't, "You can tell me straight, I promise not to cry," I forced a smile. In front of you, I added mentally. As for later? All bets were off on that one.

He sighed, "Well, the agent who met you initially did remark that he didn't think your image would be very...how can I say it....marketable?"

I gave what I am sure was a very cynical smile with an unimpressed snort. "Marketable," I repeated and shook my head. "Alright, Simon, can I call you Simon?" I said and continued apace, "Well thanks for your honesty. I'll not take up anymore of your time." I stood up and was about to head for the door when he spoke again.

"Nick, wait." I turned around as he continued, "I said we wouldn't be taking you on as an artist, but we would be very interested in working out a deal with you as a songwriter."

I paused and chewed my lower lip, "A songwriter." I repeated. I shook my head, "I really don't think so, I'm not going to give up so easy."

He persisted, "Alrigh,t but at least think about a one-off deal. The five songs on your demo we would be very keen to cut a deal with you on." He could obviously see my expression building up to the 'get stuffed' look as he raised his hands defensively, "Look, Nick just think about it, ok? Here take this proposal and look at it, give me a call if you are interested." He held out a white manilla envelope and smiled almost pleadingly. I shrugged and took the envelope from him and headed out the door without another word.

----------*----------

The weather fitted my mood. Typical November London day -- grey, misty, drizzly and windy. I walked, head down, and walked. From ever since I could remember, I had loved music. It had been my life and I always thought I would make it. Despite all the rejections I still had the belief in myself. Until now perhaps. This was the big one and as they say the bigger they are, they harder they fall. A voice with more balls. A marketable image. I knew what he was getting at.

He wasn't the first. OK, so I didn't want to play rugby at school, or any sport for that matter. I had made every excuse to escape to the music department at every opportunity. I wasn't what you would call well-built. Slight and thin, not the tallest, nor quite the smallest though, at 5 foot 7. I shrugged and winced inwardly as the memories came back from my school days.

Pretty boy. What a hateful nickname. It didn't start out spitefully as in fact it was some of the girls who had coined the term for me. They meant it factually. I was fine-featured as I liked to think of it. However once it got out, I was stuck with it. It was eventually shortened to PB and that was how I was known by most of my year. I sort of hoped most people forgot what it originally stood for. The jocks didn't beat on me at least; it was just what they called me.

I think if I hadn't had my music, if I hadn't had something in my favour, something to be respected for, I may have attracted the casual beatings that other non-entities did. I closed my eyes and pictured the yearbook caption to my photo, "Award for: Most gifted musician. Nickname: 'PB'." I sighed then jumped as the car horn dragged me from my reverie and back to reality. I jumped onto the pavement and gave the car driver a two-fingered salute. Couldn't he see I was in a 'not to be messed with' mood?

I paused to gather my bearings as I had been wandering aimlessly. Charing Cross Road. I pulled the collar of my jacket up as the rain became more persistent and headed for a familiar coffee shop about a hundred yards down the street. Ordering a black coffee I slouched into a corner seat and slipped back into my self-pitying introspection.

Marketable image. The words seared through my brain. Damn, I mean I could eat more, put a bit of weight on, work out a bit. I stirred the coffee and added two sugars and then a third, feeling that I deserved the extra fix. Problem was if it came to spending the hard-to-come-by cash on decent food or a new piece of musical equipment, I knew which would win. And if it came to a choice of spending time cooking, exercising and the like or working on a new tune, or even just listening to music. I knew what I would do.

I drank the coffee and realised that music was my life. Take it away and there was little left. It seemed a little pathetic put like that. I pushed my straggly wet hair back from my face and rubbed my eyes. What now? What else could I do?

The rain had eased a bit so I dragged myself from the chair and headed out again and after pausing for a moment to decide my route and destination; I decided it was home via Charing Cross station and two tube changes. I trudged on with heavy feet, not sure what I was going to do when I got home.

I'd left school with two A-levels. Music of course - an A grade. English a C grade which I was pleasantly surprised with. The Maths had been an unmitigated disaster. I shrugged, the Maths and English were by the bys. I'd spent most of my younger days' spare time involved in music of some kind or another. Orchestra, choir whatever.

A voice with more balls. I winced. Sure I was just about a tenor, as long as it wasn't too low a part. Sure I occasionally had helped the altos in choir practice. But I had a strong voice, I knew it.

When I got home I passed on lunch despite having had nothing to eat all day. No nausea, just no appetite. I stripped out of my damp clothes and tossed them in the corner of my bedroom with a mixture of anger and frustration. With nothing better to do and feeling exhausted I decided to climb back into bed and see if the world looked any better the other side of a few hours nap. It didn't really.

----------*----------

It was about 6pm when I surfaced and showered. I didn't bother getting dressed again even though there was something pathetic about sitting around in my dressing gown having slept all afternoon. I didn't really care though. I forced myself to eat a cheese sandwich and a packet of crisps. I turned on my stereo and selected one of the compilation CDs that I had made for myself of music that I liked. I lay down on the sofa and let the music wash over me as I tried not to think. Easier said than done.

A voice with more balls. The words cut into me over and over again. What was he trying to say? I had a girly voice? Rubbish. I reached for the remote and turned up the volume as one of my favourite songs started. 'Show me Heaven' by Maria McKee. I loved the way it started slow, quiet, mellow and built up to an emotional crescendo. As it finished a strange thought came to me. A girly voice? No way, I'll prove it. I can't do it.

I switched the stereo off and went over to my studio. OK, the corner of my living room cum kitchen that contained my equipment. I fired up the sequencer and four-track and began to lay down some tracks for 'Show me Heaven'. I never stopped giving thanks for the ears that God gave me. To be able to hear a song and, without much trouble, to be able to sit down and play it was not something I ever took for granted.

I laid down a background keyboard track, a bass guitar riff and then programmed in the percussion on the drum machine. I played it back and nodded to myself, not bad. I never tried to play a song exactly as others performed it. Take what you hear, interpret it, play around with it and add a bit of yourself to it. I picked up my semi-acoustic guitar and plugged it into my amp, switched on the microphone and added a bit of reverb to the mic channel. I adjusted the mic stand's height -- I never could do the old sit down and sing with the guitar thing. You had to stand, had to perform.

I paused and closed my eyes. I wasn't going to sing this song as a man might. Think, think -- how would a woman sing it. I touched the record button on the four-track. I would give it my best shot and still it would be me. No balls, huh?

The intro started and I began a little finger plucking on the guitar and closing my eyes, sang the familiar words.

"There you go, flashing fever from your eyes.
Hey babe, come over here and shut down tight.
I'm not denying, We're flying above it all.
Hold my hand, don't let me fall,
You've such amazing grace.
I've never felt this way..."

I smiled to myself as the music crescendoed. I really loved this song and as the chorus kicked in I forgot about what I was trying to do and just went with it and sang it out,

"Oh, Show me heaven, Cover me, Leave me breathless,
Oh, Show me heaven please."

I added more rhythmic strumming on the guitar,

"I've shivers down my spine,
and it feels divine."

I did have shivers down my spine. That inexplicable feeling of being lost in music, lost in the moment of performance. I felt the dark cloud of the day slipping away as I reached for the high notes at the end and finished with some mellow guitar finger-picking. I sighed and turned off the recorder. I smiled. It was good to play. Good therapy. Cathartic. Now let's hear it.

I sat down on the stool and pressed play. The intro started and I winced as I heard a slightly off note from the guitar. I resisted my perfectionist urge to stop right there and do it again as the verse started. It was good. Or I was good, a little too good for my liking. I sighed and closed my eyes and tried to listen as impartially as I could. I shook my head as the chorus burst in.

This was not good. What I heard was a next to perfect rendition of this song. Emotion, feeling, all the notes perfect. As it closed I felt a strange mixture of feelings. Professional pride, yet personal distress. I had a strong voice alright and being honest, I had just heard one of my strongest vocal performances. A strong voice, but right enough I doubted anyone would have said the singer had a 'ballsy' voice.

After sitting staring into space for a few moments I mentally shook myself. Alright, one song doesn't make a diva. It's a fluke, a scary one, but a fluke. Let's try it again. I thought for a few moments trying to think of another familiar song to try to prove myself wrong with. 'Torn', by Natalie Imbruglia. If you're going to be a one-hit wonder may as well make that hit a great song I always said. I knew the song well.

The tracks were laid down and I grabbed the guitar. As tempting as it was to deliberately do it badly, I just couldn't do that. I gave it my all and as I sat and listened to the playback, it was the same again. As the song ended, my head was in my hands. Was slimy Simon right?

I shrugged and like a failing gambler looking for double or quits, I decided to give it one last shot and raise the stakes. I racked my brain for a song that had a fantastic female vocal. After running through many possibilities I knew the one to try. 'Unbreak my heart' by Tony Braxton. God, I loved that song, fantastic vocal. Starting low with a hint of veiled emotion but building up to melancholic heights of vocal agility. This was the hurdle on which I would fall. I shoved in the CD and listened to it a few times. Fantastic. And unmatchable, I was sure.

I followed the same procedure and determined to give it my all, no matter what. I even laid the guitar track in first so I could concentrate on the vocal. Taking the microphone in both hands I put my heart into it and surprised myself with what I thought was probably a reasonable effort. I was wrong. It wasn't reasonable, it was ghastly. Ghastly because it was brilliant. I was sure I would sound like a man in pain on the high falsettos. But no. I rubbed my eyes. It had been a long day and I felt like an emotional wreck. I transferred the three songs to a blank minidisc. Why? I always kept a record of what I had done. The old obsessive-compulsive side coming out again I guess. I crawled into bed for what I knew would be a fitful and disturbed night's sleep.

----------*----------

I reached out for the alarm clock and tried to thump it, crush it, the usual. I smacked it across the room but still it kept trilling. I was sure I hadn't set it as I had had no particular intentions on the getting out of bed before lunchtime front. Eventually I realised it wasn't the alarm clock, but the phone and, gathering enough coherent cognitive power, I managed to co-ordinate my right hand to lift it off the cradle and bring it to my ear. "Yeah," I murmured into it, hoping I was holding it the right way up.

"You're still in bed!" the voice accused, "I don't believe it -- well actually I do."

Jools.

"Umm, hi Jools," I said, forcing myself to sit up to ensure that consciousness was maintained, "Wassup?"

"Not you obviously," she said with more than a little hint of irony in her voice.

"Umm no," I agreed as I rubbed my eyes and yawned. I looked for my clock to see the time and was puzzled when I couldn't see it. I spotted it in the corner of my room, upside down. I vaguely remembered launching it in that direction subconsciously. "How are you?"

"Oh I'm fine," she said brightly, and then in a sarcastic tone, "except for the fact that a good friend has stood me up for the brunch date we had."

Damn. "Oh.....yes," I said slowly. "Erm sorry. I sort of -- well, forgot."

"So I gathered," she retorted. "So should I cut my losses or can you make it here sometime before sundown?"

"No, I'm coming now," I said more awake now and climbed out of bed just before dropping the phone. "Crap," I muttered and grabbed the receiver, "Jools, you still there?"

"Of course Nick, I'm always here aren't I?"

"Err OK; I'll see you in about 20 minutes. Bye." I set the phone down and grabbed a pair of jeans. I looked in the mirror and wished I hadn't. No need to shave at least, did that yesterday. Hair a mess, could do with a shower. I shrugged as I pulled on a shirt and shoved my feet into my already laced sneakers. Grabbing my jacket and just remembering to grab my keys as I ran out the door, I also as an afterthought grabbed my minidisk player with last night's disk still in it. I knew I should make more of an effort with myself. I thought that it least it was only Jools. Only Jools?

Julie Carstairs. Possibly the closest friend I had right now. We'd been a lot more at one time. When I first came to London 5 years ago, fresh out of school and painfully naive, a friend suggested I get myself an agent. Not knowing any better I got a music mag and looked up the classifieds for agents. There were two entries under 'A' and one under 'B'. As serendipity would have it, the first was a wrong number; the next two were answer phones. Under 'C' I phoned Julie and when she spoke to me she must have realised how green I was and taken pity on me. We met up and chatted.

She was only 4 years older than me yet shared the same love of music that I did. She couldn't play or sing much but had decided to get into the business in the best way she could. Julie could sell ice to Eskimos and having completed a business degree was starting out as an agent. Her business was small and scanty at that time, but she had the fortunate backing of wealthy, generous and concerned parents. Not that mine weren't generous; I was just too stubborn and had this thing about making it on my own.

As we chatted, we realised we had a lot in common and she agreed to try and get me a few gigs to start off with. I had nothing to pay her with but she didn't care. She came round and I played her a few songs and I knew she was impressed. We met up regularly and one night after a gig, she came back to my place and, well, things got personal if you know what I mean. For a few months, I was able to say for the first time that I had a proper girlfriend. It didn't last though. Things sort of got stale.

Music was both of our priorities. Her business was picking up, and she was representing a growing number of West End performers. It wasn't what she really wanted. She wanted to crack open the commercial music industry with a big star, but she was still waiting. I wasn't going to be it despite both of our hopes and things sort of petered out. We both decided to shake hands, separate and remain friends. Most Saturday mornings we would meet up in Marnies' Café, a little deli at the start of the Portobello Road and chat about life, give off about our lack of success, laugh, cry and basically hope and dream together.

I ran out of the Notting Hill Gate tube station and huffed and puffed my way up the street until I got there and collapsed into the seat opposite her, red-faced and panting. She smirked and shook her head, "20 minutes! More like 35 and you look awful."

I shrugged, "You know I always promise more than I can deliver, and you look wonderful."

She laughed. "Flatterer." Looking concerned she continued, "But seriously you look like crap."

I raised an eyebrow and with a mirthless chuckle retorted, "You sure know how to kick a guy when he is down, Jools."

After the waitress came and took our order, she said, "Didn't go well yesterday then?"

I shook my head, "You could say that." I related the exchanges between myself and Simon and she made all the right sympathetic noises. I told her the specifics of the reasons why he'd turned me down. She just commented that he sounded like a jerk. She didn't quite contradict what he had said though. When I mentioned the offer of buying my songs, her business brain clicked into gear.

"How much did they offer?" she asked with interest.

I shrugged, "I don't know, I turned him down of course." I bristled a little with indignation, "You know my views on just being a songwriter Jools."

"That's fine, but you need to live and eat. So you weren't interested to know what they were offering?"

Julie could be so darned practical and real at times. I suddenly remembered and fished in my pocket and pulled out a crumpled white envelope. "He said this was the proposal."

She snatched it out of my hand and began to open it just as our food arrived. "Hey," I protested lamely as she pulled out a headed piece of paper and scanned it. Her eyebrows rose a little and she handed it to me.

I took it and trying to pretend indifference, I read it with some interest to see what they thought my songs were worth. I was somewhat pleasantly surprised. I finished reading it and looked up at Julie, "£10,000 for the rights to 5 songs," I stated. "That's probably a lot isn't it?" I asked her.

She nodded, "I'd say so. But don't accept it -- tell them you want 2% royalties also."

I sighed, "I wasn't going to accept it at all Jools, you know..."

She leaned forward and interrupted, "C'mon Nick. Think about it. You are a professional musician as you like to think about it. What is a professional? Someone who makes money from what they do. You aren't sacrificing your artistic integrity or your goals by actually cashing in on your talent, are you?"

"I guess not," I murmured. I grimaced, "But it's the thought of someone else singing my songs." I paused, "It just seems like a violation or something."

Before she could pester me about it any further, I figured I'd distract her with my minidisk. I wasn't quite sure why I was going to get her to listen it. Perhaps it was a hope that she would think it was a poor effort and that would do something to restore my wounded ego. Or rather perhaps it was the total opposite. I think somewhere deep down I was actually quite proud of the performances in a strange sort of way. I slid the minidisk across the table, "Have a listen to this."

"What is it?" she asked suspiciously.

I shrugged, "Just some songs a friend sang, I did the musical accompaniment." I wondered if she would realise who had really sung them.

She grimaced, "Nick...you know I don't really like it when people try to get things past me by the back door. Get your friend to come see me up front."

I sighed, "Look Jools, just have a listen and give me your honest opinion. That's all -- no catches, no strings attached." Not half!

She nodded, "Alright." She put on the headphones and started to listen. I drank my coffee and made a half-hearted attempt at my sandwich. I could just about make the sound out from across the table. The singing started and I could see her expression change from one of resigned reluctance to one of interest. She nodded a few times. After the first chorus, she slipped the headphones off, "Who is she? She's good!"

I winced momentarily but shook my head, "Just listen, there's three songs. Listen to them all and then we can talk."

She shrugged and replaced the headphones. As she listened to the second and third songs I could see she was enjoying them. When they finished she set the headphones down on the table and shook her head saying nothing for a moment. When she spoke it was one word, "Wow." Another pause. She leant forwards towards me, "Who on earth is she? What a voice! Good choice of songs, 3 of your favourites Nick, I presume you suggested them to her."

I shrugged and shifted in my seat suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. "Yeah, something like that," I murmured.

She would not be put off though. "Nick I want to know who she is. Does she have an agent?" I could see the wheels of her mind turning. "I really want to meet her." Seeing my disinterested expression she persisted, "C'mon Nick, she has a real future with a voice like that."

I sighed. Julie had never waxed lyrical like this about my singing before...well that is until now. "Jools," I began and then hesitated, "There is no future for 'her' because...well I don't know how to say it except that it was me singing on the disk." I sat back and watched her eyebrows shoot upwards.

She screwed her eyes up as she took that one in. "Huh? Did you get a new effects module or something? Electronically modify your voice?"

I shook my head, and said quietly, "No, I just thought I'd try something a little different."

"Why? How?" she seemed a bit overwhelmed.

I shrugged and tried to explain the mood I had been in after the rejection and comments from Simon Andrews. I don't know if she understood but she seemed to take it in.

"Nick, if that is you on the disk, which I still find hard to believe...well you sound amazing. I've never heard your voice like that, so strong."

I grinned wryly, "I sounded like a girl singing and now I'm told that my voice is strong." I gave an ironic half-snort-cum-chuckle. "But if you don't really believe me, come on back over to my place and I'll give you a live demo."

"OK," she said.

I was a bit taken aback but regained my composure and replied, "OK well then let's go." I made my usual pretence about wanting to pay, but as always she wouldn't hear of it and settled the bill herself.

We didn't talk much on the journey back to my flat. Julie seemed preoccupied. When we got in, I suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable, "You don't really want to hear me sing like that, do you?"

"I most certainly do," she said indignantly. Then with a sly smile, "I mean, I don't know if I really believe that was you singing." She always knew I couldn't resist a challenge.

"Alright then," I retorted, "which song do you want me to sing?"

"All of them."

"OK."

"Fine."

"Right," I said turning on my equipment. When everything was set, I grabbed my guitar, started the backing track and stood up to the microphone. I got my mind ready for what I was doing and began to play. I closed my eyes and began to sing, I let my voice flow over the familiar words and let myself get immersed in the music and the emotion. Just like last night, I put everything into it, heart, mind and soul and when I finished 'Show me Heaven' I opened my eyes and saw Julie sitting on the arm of the sofa staring at me with her mouth slightly open.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She shook her head as if snapping out of a trance. "Umm nothing, nothing. Go on, don't stop," she waved a hand at me to encourage me to continue.

I turned back and started 'Torn'. Again I let myself be absorbed into the performance and found it coming more naturally than it had last night. I reasoned it was probably just increased familiarity with singing this way.

When it finished, I didn't even look at Julie, I just set the guitar down and started the final song, 'Unbreak my heart'." I gave it the 'full welly' as a friend of mine used to say. I cupped the microphone between my hands and it was as if I was almost pouring myself into it. When the song finished I just stood there, eyes closed for about half a minute, before turning to face her.

I shrugged, "There you go. Believe me now?" She just stared at me as if I was an alien or something. She shook her head.

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears I don't think I would have believed that was possible. Being perfectly serious -- that was absolutely amazing."

I winced again and murmured, "Pity it's not really the real me singing and getting such praise."

She looked at me thoughtfully and chewed her lower lip, "Perhaps, perhaps not." I didn't know what she meant and didn't feel inclined to ask her to elaborate. She jumped to her feet and said, "I'd better be going. Can I borrow that minidisk?"

"Sure. What do you want it for?"

She shrugged noncommittally, "I just want to listen to it again." She had that calculating look in her eyes, but I was too drained to push her any further so I gave it to her. She gave me a peck on the cheek and headed for the door. "I'll be in touch," she waved.

"Bye Jools," I said, "Oh, I'm heading up to see my folks tonight and won't be back 'til Monday afternoon so I'll talk to you sometime next week."

----------*----------

CHAPTER 2

It had been good to spend some time with my folks, but I was glad enough to be driving back down the M4 towards London on Monday afternoon. My parents now lived in Cardiff and had done so for the past 3 years or so. Dad was a solicitor and when I was growing up he had been based in the Pembroke office of the firm Roberts, Unwin & Jones.

Pembroke had been home, Cardiff wasn't. On the coast of south-west Wales, Pembroke was a medium-sized town probably best known for its majestic castle. I had been born there, grew up there and went to school there. I missed it from time to time, but it was hardly the centre of the universe.

Dad had been promoted to a senior partnership in the central office in Cardiff and was now winding down towards retirement. Mum had been a teacher but hadn't taught since my sister and I were born. Claire was 3 years older than me and was the 'success' of the children in my parent's eyes. Or so I perceived it. They would never say it in so many words. Claire was an accountant working in Bristol. Unmarried as yet, and closer to Cardiff, she visited Mum and Dad a lot more often than I did as Mum had reminded me the past day or two.

I loved my folks dearly. We had never wanted for anything growing up and they had always encouraged my interest in music. I remember Mum putting me through my piano practice each week and telling me to do it over and over again until I got it right. I attributed my perfectionist tendencies to her. They had urged me to go to Music College after leaving school, to get a decent qualification. I declined; I had other ideas in mind.

I think they hoped I'd grow out of my desire to be a successful singer/songwriter and would settle down, become a music teacher, get married and produce grandchildren for them. Yet in their favour they didn't spend their time rubbishing me or berating me. They tried to be encouraging, but I knew they were concerned that I was throwing my life away on a pipe dream. I had told them about the latest rejection and I think Mum knew how galling this one was. I could never really hide my feelings from her.

Dad was always worried about my financial status and true to form offered me a helping hand again this time. I refused as always, but this time he wasn't backing down. Apparently he'd just got a bonus or something and he claimed he'd given Claire a gift as well and he wasn't going to treat us differently. So I accepted somewhat reluctantly. He gave me a cheque for £2000 and ignored my protests. I was grateful really. I made scant enough money with the odd gig here or there and just about made ends meet each month.

I was halfway down the M4 when my musings were interrupted by the ringing of my mobile phone on the seat beside me. I grabbed it and flicked it open, "Hello?"

"Nick, where are you?" It was Jools.

"Umm, about halfway between Bristol and London, on the way back from my folks. Remember?"

"Oh yes," she said quickly. She sounded a little on edge and continued, "Listen, tell me do you think you could write songs for, well you know a girl to sing?"

"Huh?" I had forgotten about all this the past day or two.

She sighed sounding impatient, "Look the songs you sang the other night to me. Do you think you could write original songs to be sung like that?"

"Jools, what is this about? Are you harping back on the songwriter thing again?"

"Nick, just answer," she sounded ticked off now, "Do you think you can or not? I'll explain later, I'm sort of in the middle of something."

I paused, "Umm, well I dunno. I guess so."

"OK fine, give it a try would you? I'll be round tomorrow sometime. Bye."

"Uh bye," I said, but she was already away. I shook my head and threw the phone on the seat beside me. She was up to something and I didn't have a good feeling about it, but that was Jools.

I timed my journey perfectly to coincide approaching London with the evening rush hour and spent a frustrating 1-1/2 hours circumnavigating the M25 before making it back to my flat. I arrived in and checked my answer phone messages. Three. All Jools, getting more agitated with each one wanting to know where I was. Why she didn't phone my mobile after the first attempt was one of those things I'd never work out.

Her messages reminded me of her strange question this afternoon. I dumped my bag on the floor and headed for my 'studio'. I switched on the keyboard and let my fingers roam, playing aimlessly for a while to relax and warm up.

The process of writing a song is a strange one and if someone was to ask me how I do it I probably couldn't give a clear answer. Sometimes I had a fragment running around in my head for days which forms the nucleus of a song. Sometimes it comes out of nothing. Usually I have a thought in my head as to what the lyric should roughly be about. I form the song and melody and then just sing and see what words come. Most times I have to step away from the keyboard and guitar and sit down to get the words finalised. Other times however it all just flows out and I just switch on the four-track to make sure I don't lose it or forget it.

After 5 or 10 minutes of mind-clearing playing I stopped. I sat and thought. Think like a girl? I grinned and mentally pictured myself extracting logic and reason from my mind. Chuckling to myself I knew I'd get a slap from Jools if I shared this with her. But more seriously, I sat and thought. I needed a spark of inspiration. My mind drifted back to my earlier reminiscences whilst driving and I cast my memory back to my childhood. Slowly an idea began to come to me and I let my mind run with it.

I let my hands rest on the keys and considered what key to play in. 'D' I thought first. But then remembering this was for a female vocal I adjusted upwards to 'F'. Starting with high treble arpeggio-style chords I began to search for the heart of this song. I let my hands seek out the right chord progression as I hummed the potential melody. The verse was a melancholic wispy style. I got stuck on the end of the verse and couldn't find the right chord. I tried again and again before I got it -- A diminished 7th -- perfect. Now into the chorus which was a bright, loud flood of nostalgic longing.

After about an hour or so, I wasn't sure as time has little meaning in such a situation, I felt I had the music complete and began to tease out some of the lyrical phrases that had been floating around in my head. It was one of those times when it just flowed. Putting myself in the right mindset I sang the lines as a woman would and it clicked, it came together.

It's hard to explain the feeling of anticipation as a song is being born. The excitement mixed with an apprehension that it might not turn out just as good as you know it could be. At last I felt I had it. I scribbled down the lines on a piece of paper and after a bit of scoring out here and there and making changes it was done.

I pulled the microphone down to within range and hit record on the four-track. It was a song about a young woman in the midst of the hassles of life casting her mind back to the days when all she had to worry about was if the sun was shining or not. The title was the main line from the chorus, "9 years old again." It was me, yet the perspective was not quite mine.

When finished, I paused for breath and then started the playback. It was good. Sometimes it was hard to appraise your own songs. Sometimes it was easy. Sometimes after spending hours working on a song, when I played it back I would immediately realise that it hadn't lived up to its promise and with sadness I would there and then mentally bin it. Rarely would working on it further or changing it be good enough. This one however I knew was good right from the first time.

Reluctantly I had to admit that it was helped by the rather strong and unfortunately undeniably female vocal that was carrying it. I knew the limits of my vocal range and that was the beauty of being a singer/songwriter: you could write the songs to showcase your own vocal breadth and depth. This song did that: from the verses which were soft and delicate with a high-pitched vocal line leading into a more melodic and powerful chorus.

It was one of the reasons I was against just being a songwriter. If the songwriter writes the song for their own voice, surely the song will be diminished if sung by someone else.

When it finished I switched off all my equipment and headed to bed. There was nothing more to do, I had created and it was good.

----------*----------

Being rudely awakened from sleep was unfortunately becoming a familiar pattern. This time after swiping at the alarm clock and then ascertaining it was neither the clock nor the phone, I achieved enough consciousness to realise it was the door buzzer. I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled over to the door of my flat and picked up the intercom phone. "Yes?" I said wearily.

"C'mon let me in," said an all too bright voice. Jools.

I sighed, "OK," and pressed the door release for the downstairs door. I opened my door and leant against the wall waiting for her arrival. She came bouncing up the stairs and strode into my flat with a grin on her face. Her face fell slightly at the less than enthusiastic expression on my face. She gave a little smile and held up the box in her hands, "I've got fresh coffee and croissants," she said enticingly.

I tried not to, but couldn't help myself from smiling. There was something infectious about Jools when she was in this sort of mood. I closed the door and followed her over to the table and slumped into a chair. She grinned at me and gestured at me, "Nice of you to make an effort for me. Makes a girl feel real special."

I gave her a mock-scowl and realised I must be quite a sight in my old T-shirt and shorts, sleep-filled eyes and wayward hair. I shrugged and reached for the coffee and a croissant eagerly, "What time is it Jools?"

She checked her watch "Half past nine. The day is young and there is lots to do."

I winced, "Half nine?" I gave her the 'what the hell are you doing getting me up at this time' look.

She ignored it and tucked into her own croissant. "So," she said, her eyes bright, "did you give what I suggested a try?"

I carefully chewed my croissant thoroughly and then took a long mouthful of coffee to wash it down, keeping her on edge deliberately. After a pause, I replied simple, "Yes."

She blinked a few times, "And?" she said expectantly.

I shrugged diffidently, "Well, I guess it was OK."

"Did you make a recording?" she pressed.

I raised my eyebrows and blew out my cheeks, "Did I record it or not?" I mused.

She sighed with exasperation, "Of course you did, you always do. Stop toying with me and let me hear it." She almost pouted.

I grinned and, grabbing another mouthful of croissant, wandered over to the four-track and turned it on. I got it ready and hit play before coming back to the table. Just before it started I said, "It's called '9 years old again'." I sat down and casually sipped my coffee as it started.

Jools on the other hand looked like she was sitting on eggs. She tapped her foot, shifted position, nodded and smiled from time to time as the song played. When it was finished I casually strolled over and switched off the four-track and again made my way back to the table and drained the remains of my coffee. I looked up at her and saw she was looking at me strangely.

"Are you happy with the song?" she asked me.

I smiled and shrugged, "I guess it's ok."

"OK?" she replied, "OK? C'mon Nick, seriously! Don't tell me you don't think that's the best song you have ever written."

I couldn't help myself and smiled broadly and tilted back in my chair, "Well, it is pretty good I think."

"Pretty good?" she echoed, "It's flippin' amazing and you know it."

My smile got wider, "Gee shucks, thanks. So what's got you all worked up? Been developing the master plan for me to sell out my integrity as a songwriter now?"

She smiled and shook her head, "Not exactly." She hesitated.

"C'mon Jools, what have you been up to and why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this."

She thought for a moment before looking me in the eye and replying, "Look Nick, you've always wanted to be a singer/songwriter, a performer, a successful artist, right?" I nodded but she didn't need to wait for me to answer, she knew so she continued, "And ever since I've known you, that has been your one and only goal, it's been your driving ambition. You are determined to make it happen aren't you?"

"Sure," I replied, "you know that."

She nodded, "And if I know you right, which I think I do, you would almost do anything to fulfil that dream, no?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Enough of the softening me up Jools, what are you scheming?"

She took a long, slow breath, and hesitated again before going on, "Nick, I took that minidisk you gave me to a record company to let them hear it..."

"You did what?" I said with incredulity.

She held up her hands, "Hear me out. Yes I took it to a major label record company yesterday, demanded a meeting with one of their liaison agents and played it to him. Do you want to know what he thought?"

"Erm, sure, and I want to know why you did this?"

"All in good time. Well he got quite excited and wanted to know who this girl was. He was very impressed with her vocals to say the least and wanted to know if she was interested in the possibility of a recording contract. He wanted to know if she could write her own stuff and was so taken with the sound that he took the disk to one of the senior managers to let them hear it."

She didn't pause for breath but went right on. "That's when I phoned you and asked about writing songs for a woman. So eventually when he came back in, I told him that I could confirm that she was an excellent songwriter also. He had brought his manager with him and they both expressed great interest in meeting this girl and the definite possibilities of setting up a deal."

I had so many questions but the first one that came out was, "And?"

She grinned, "Well I arranged a meeting for just over a month's time, Monday 23rd December, as I said she was focussing on an intense period of song-writing at the moment. They agreed as long as I promised that I wouldn't be contacting any other labels in between times."

I shook my head, "Jools, I mean..." Words failed me and I tried again, "What on earth is this about? I mean that is me singing. They aren't going to be too impressed when I show up with you. Sorry I know you were expecting a girl, but hey at least I can sing like one?" I shook my head again, "What's the point of this?"

She nodded slowly and obviously choosing her words carefully replied, "Nick. You want to be a successful artist. You would do almost anything to achieve that. Well, I think this is your big chance. How far are you willing to go to take this opportunity?" She looked at me meaningfully.

Then it clicked, "Oh God, no Jools. You aren't implying? You are. Urgh!" I groaned and buried my head in my hands. After a few moments I lifted it again, "You can't be serious?"

She leant forward animatedly, "C'mon Nick, think about it. You and I both know that with a voice like your 'new voice' and writing songs like that one, you've got every chance to make it. This is it, this is the big one."

I exhaled slowly, "Jools, no. I mean there's no way it would work. We'd be a laughing stock. Me dressed up as a girl?" I shook my head, "No, it would be a fiasco." I looked down at the table.

Jools reached out and grabbed my hand and squeezed it until I met her gaze again. She said emphatically, "Nick. Give me a chance to prove we can do this. Don't take this the wrong way but I think we have every chance to make this work and to make it work well." She looked at me meaningfully.

I got her drift. It was the same old, same old. Pretty boy all over again. I felt a hollow sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was going to protest again but I looked at Jools and I recognised that determined look in her eyes. Did she really think it was possible? Would she have gone out on a limb like this if she didn't? Did I want it to be possible? I didn't really know the answers to any of these questions.

After a few moments, I replied softly and somewhat reluctantly, "What did you have in mind to prove this?" I was fairly sure I didn't want to hear the answer.

I saw her eyes light up, "OK, well get showered, dressed and we'll go to my place."

"Jools," I demanded, "I'm not moving until you tell me what you have in mind."

She sighed, "Look Nick, let's give it a dress rehearsal test ok? I've got some things back at my place we can use. Let me try a new look on you. No pressure, let's just see how things pan out, ok?"

I grimaced but knew that she was like a dog with a bone until she got her own way, "Alright. I'll do this but as long as you understand this is it. Whenever you realise it isn't going to work, that's the end of it and you can sort out the mess you have got yourself into and have tried to get me into."

"OK," she agreed, "fair enough. Now go get showered and dressed quick and let's go."

I was a bit perturbed that she had agreed so easily but put the thought out of my mind as I went to comply with her instructions.

----------*----------

We arrived at Jools' place and I lifted my guitar out of her car. She had insisted that I bring it but hadn't been overly forthcoming as to why. Jools had an apartment in Shepherd's Bush in West London. It was a nice area and properties didn't come cheap here. Apparently it was her parents' London apartment but they rarely stayed there so for all intents and purposes it was hers. The apartment was on the second floor of a Georgian style terrace house. The ground floor was an office which Jools claimed she rented from her parents and used as her base for her work. I doubted the rent she was charged was too steep. More luxurious almost than the property in London terms was the fact that there was enough room to park two cars comfortably, three at a squeeze, in the yard behind the house.

Once inside, I felt extreme butterflies in my stomach at what lay ahead. I didn't quite know what lay ahead and I think that was the main problem. I set the guitar down, took off my coat and looked at Jools. I think I must have looked terrified because she came over and gave me a hug. She murmured in my ear, "Look, I know this is all a bit overwhelming, but just trust me and let's see what happens." I hugged her back. It felt nice. But not in the way it once had. Oh I loved her alright. But it was more like brother and sister with me and Jools now.

"OK," she said in her business-like voice. "The first thing is to get your hair washed and sorted."

"I could have washed it back at my place when I was showering," I complained.

"Yes, but I want to do some styling," she explained as if to a small child.

We went into the bathroom and she had me take off my shirt and lean my head over the bath. She proceeded to wash my hair and shampoo it. The steaming hot water erupting from the shower head was soothing as were her hands massaging my scalp. I think she shampooed it twice with different shampoos and then I think it must have been conditioner that came next. My hair hadn't been as well cared for in a long time. When she was done she had me sit in a chair and after towelling it briefly, she combed diligently through my hair ignoring my protests when she worked through the tangled bits which I usually neglected.

When it was all combed out straight and she was happy she explained, "OK, now don't freak. I am going to put your hair in rollers now to give it some shape." I think she must have seen the expression on my face as she went on quickly, "I said, don't panic. It's not a perm, it's not permanent, and it will comb out completely after one wash...or two. Just trust me."

I sighed and let my protests subside. For about the next half-hour she wound my hair onto a set of rollers she had already heated. Apart from the occasional "Ouch" from me when she tugged a bit hard at my hair, I let her work away unhindered. When every inch of my head it seemed was covered in rollers, she gently placed a hairnet over my head to keep them in place.

"There," she smiled, "stage 1 complete. Not too bad?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

I shrugged and forced a smile, "OK, I guess."

"Right, next step is to try on some new clothes."

"OK," I said less than enthusiastically but didn't protest. I knew this was coming and I had agreed to go along with her plan for today. We went into her bedroom and she suggested that I remove my trousers and pants. She gave me a pair of blank nylon panties and told me to put them on and give her a shout when I had done so. She stepped out of the room.

I slowly slipped off my jeans and pants and picked up the black panties. I stood there for a moment feeling as if I was standing at an invisible threshold that something deep inside me was warning me against crossing. I shrugged mentally, if you can do that, and slipped the panties on. I didn't feel much different I had to admit. They felt comfortable and the sensation of nylon against my skin was not displeasing. There was a little bulge in the front of the panties. Little -- that was another issue. I called Jools back in as I stood there embarrassedly.

I knew she was trying to keep a straight face but was having difficulty. I sighed and rolled my eyes. "OK go on and laugh, we both know you want to."

She smirked and then sniggered, "I'm sorry Nick. It's just kind of amusing."

I couldn't help but smile too, "Yeah well, laughing at me I think will be the theme of this afternoon."

"Now now," she chided, "don't be such a pessimist. Just wait 'til I am finished with you."

"I can't wait," I said dryly.

Jools held up a black garment, "Right, this is a corset. You know what that is don't you?" I nodded as she wrapped it around my torso and began to tighten the laces at the back. I felt my stomach getting more and more compressed.

"It's a bit tight," I gasped.

"That's the idea," she said through gritted teeth as she really pulled hard and tied it off." She took a measuring tape and measured my waist with the corset on, "25 inches -- not bad at all. What is it normally?"

"Umm, 30 inches," I replied.

"It's as well you are a little slim thing."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment, Jools?" I groaned.

She ignored the question; I guess it was rhetorical anyway. She opened a plastic bag and pulled out two pieces of foam shaped like, well you know, shaped like breasts. "Alright darling, time to give you some curves," she said as she popped them into the cups in the corset.

My face was flaming red and I didn't know where to look or what to say. She must have sensed my discomfort and she placed a hand on my arm, "Stick with it Nick. It's fine; it's only you and me."

I nodded manfully -- as manfully as one can do standing dressed in black panties, a corset and with a full, if false, cleavage on display. Worse was yet to come however as Julie picked up a pair of silky black stockings. She grinned at me, "Well, men always claim they like stockings." She winked and I rolled my eyes.

"I hardly think this is what most men mean, Jools."

She shrugged, "Don't judge before you try them, here sit down." I sat down on the edge of the bed and she slipped first one on, then the next. She got me to stand up and attached them to the suspenders on the corset. It felt strange having my legs encased in this silky material. Not unpleasant, but I wasn't about to admit that.

"Umm why couldn't I just wear pantyhose?" I asked.

"I want you to enjoy the full experience," she replied with a wink.

"Gee thanks," I said.

She handed me a white satiny blouse and I slipped it on. It was when I came to try and button it up that I got into difficulties. Julie reminded me of the fact that women's clothing buttoned the other way and I eventually managed to button it all the way up. It was a V-neck blouse, but not too low cut. Then she gave me a somewhat rueful grin as she handed me a short, black skirt. I took it tentatively and with a bit of hesitation, stepped into it and pulled it up. I just about managed to zip it up in the back without having to ask for help. I adjusted it until it sat properly where my 'new' waist was.

"Shoes," Julie said as she handed me a pair of black court shoes with not too much heel on them. I slipped my feet into them and they fit perfectly.

"How did you know what size...," I began.

"Now, do you expect me to do anything by halves?" she protested.

I should have figured. Jools always had it all worked out. That scared me a little as I wondered would things work out as she was planning. I looked around the room; I was fully dressed and sort of curious to see how I looked. Julie had a big wardrobe with three floor-to-ceiling sliding doors, the middle one was a mirror but it was behind one of the other ones it seemed.

"Oh no you don't," Julie grinned. "I know what you are after and you will just have to wait for the finished product."

I wrinkled my brow, "What else has to be done?"

"Make up silly," and she led me to the dressing table, the mirror of which had been covered with a towel.

"More humiliation," I murmured.

"Don't think of it like that," she said in a voice that almost seemed pained. She looked a bit downcast and for some reason I felt bad.

"Sorry," I said and forced a smile, "OK, do your worst then."

She grinned and began to rub moisturiser cream into my face and neck. She massaged it in gently and tenderly and I closed my eyes, quite enjoying the sensation. After several applications she told me that my skin was a lot softer now and that I really should moisturise on a regular basis. Next she took a sponge and began to carefully apply what she told me was a foundation cream over my face. She blended it in carefully at the edge of my face and neck and then lightly brushed some powder over it.

Getting me to close my eyes, she applied a few shades of eye shadow and then outlined my eyes with a pencil. Next came the mascara and it was a strange sensation having this thick black substance brushed onto my lashes and then the lashes teased out. She dabbed a hint of rouge onto my cheeks and then with a lip pencil, outlined my lips. After a coat of a darkish red lipstick she got me to purse my lips and then she applied a coat of lip gloss. I blotted my lips on the paper hankie she gave me and she stood back and nodded.

She placed a gold chain around my neck, a bracelet on my wrist and a few rings on my fingers. Two hoop clip-on earrings were attached to my lobes and she sprayed me liberally with some perfume. I coughed a few times, "Is perfume really necessary?" I protested lamely.

"Remember," she explained, "it's about the whole experience."

I nodded, "Ok, ok."

"We're nearly done," she said cheerfully, "just have to get your hair brushed out." She removed the hairnet and began the tedious job of extracting each roller. Eventually the last one was removed and she began to vigorously brush out my hair. Although my scruffy hair was normally shoulder-length, with my new curls it came down to just above my shoulders. She brushed and coiffed and at last seemed satisfied. She stepped back and got me to stand up. "Now let me see the finished product," she said with anticipation.

I stood up and although feeling slightly awkward to say the least, I struck a pose for her and made a little pout. She stood stock-still and went a little pale. I saw her swallow and she just stood and stared at me.

"What is it?" I asked. I presumed she was disappointed that despite all her efforts, it was all for nothing. Gently I said, "Things didn't turn out the way you thought?"

She shook her head briefly before saying in a strange voice, "I guess you could say that. Here, have a look for yourself." She slid the sliding mirror door out from behind one of the others and I turned to look at myself.

My heart almost stopped and I froze rather like Julie had. My mouth went dry and I felt as if I had broken out in a cold sweat. I shivered. "My God," I whispered.

"I know," Julie murmured, her expression equally as shocked as she came to stand beside me. The person standing beside Jools in the mirror was not me. Looking back at me was an extremely attractive woman with medium-length black curly hair. The face was exquisite -- my face I had to remind myself. The whole look was scary. The clothes, my figure -- it was all woman.

I turned to look at Julie and tried to find words. "Jools...is this, I mean did you, well think that this is how I would turn out?"

She swallowed again, still the sombre look on her face. "No," she croaked. She coughed and finding her voice, "Nick, I had no idea really. I sort of thought you might look--well, Ok. Certainly I thought you might look enough like a girl to get by. I'm sorry if that sounds bad, but you know yourself that you're not exactly..." her voice trailed off.

I sighed, "I know Jools." I turned to look back at the mirror and stood there almost transfixed for a moment before continuing, "I had no idea though..."

Julie nodded, "Me neither. Wow."

We both stood looking in the mirror for about a minute before Jools shook her head. "I mean, you bitch!" she exclaimed and gently gave me a dig in the ribs.

"Huh?" I said looking at her with puzzlement.

She grinned, "Look at you! You're absolutely gorgeous and put me to shame. And you're not really...well...you know."

I screwed my face up, "Jools, come on I don't put you to shame..."

She interrupted and turned my face back to the mirror, "Don't deny it Nick. You're stunning, beautiful, admit it."

She was right. Jools was pretty, mousy brown hair, medium height -- perhaps a little on the wrong side of slim, but not much more than a little. I looked at myself. I had gone from being a medium height, scrawny, scruffy-haired fine-featured man to a tall, slender but curvy, very attractive woman.

I felt strange. I wasn't sure how to explain the way I felt. Disturbed, certainly. Amazed, yes. Curious, puzzled and...in a strange way, a little proud. I turned one way and the next and watched the way my curls bounced. I checked myself out from the rear and then turned back to face Julie. In a small voice I said, "OK. I admit it, but the words almost stick in my throat and I don't know how I feel about it."

I plumped myself down on the edge of the bed and she sat down beside me. She took my hand and held it lightly. "Nick, you've been very patient with me so far, but would you try one more thing for me?"

I shrugged and smiled, "Sure, why not. In for a penny, in for a pound. What is it?"

"Well, would you mind getting the guitar and singing '9 years old again'? I just sort of want to see how you look singing."

I nodded and got up to get the guitar from the living room. It felt strange walking in a skirt and stockings. Again it wasn't unpleasant, just incredibly foreign. I checked the tuning of the guitar briefly and made a few adjustments. I went back into the bedroom and slipped it over my shoulders. I grimaced a little and loosened the strap. My breasts were in the way. Wow, strange thought. I shook my head and looked up at Julie, "Shall I start?"

She nodded, "But turn towards the mirror first so you can see, too."

I did as she asked and started into the song. Yes, it had been written on the piano, but that was the joy of writing your own songs, you knew how you felt it should be played on other instruments, too. Although I had only played it on the keyboard before, when I played it I heard all the other parts in my head. So I played and began to sing. As I watched the young woman in the mirror sing my song I got a bit distracted so I closed my eyes and let the music take over. Music was such a release. I let the tension of the day flow out of me as I strummed and sang. I brought the song to a close with some soft gentle plucking as the vocal faded. Opening my eyes I saw the woman in the mirror smile and her lashes fluttered a little.

I looked over at Julie and saw she was biting her lower lip and her hands were clasped together, her knuckles white. I raised an eyebrow. She exhaled slowly as if she had been holding her breath throughout the whole song. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and she murmured, "Nick honey, we need to talk."

She wouldn't say another word for now but insisted we get coffee first. As she walked out of the room I gathered that I should follow her. I had sort of wanted to mention getting changed out of these things but figured I should leave it for now. I took a seat at the table as she brought the coffee over. I took a sip and savoured the bitter taste in my mouth thinking that I had certainly earned it. She sat down and looked at me thoughtfully. I took another drink of my coffee before feeling slightly uncomfortable under her gaze. "Ok, Jools, what do we have to talk about?" I had a sneaking suspicion I knew where the conversation would head.

She smiled at me and shook her head, "You know I still can't believe it's you I'm sitting looking at." I smiled a little self-consciously and blinked a few times, looking away for a moment. She laughed and clapped her hands, "Oh my goodness, that is SO perfect."

"Huh?" I asked furrowing my brow.

She giggled, "The way you shyly averted your eyes and fluttered your lashes, my goodness if there were any men here they would be eating out of your hand."

A moment's silence before I replied softly, "There is a man here."

She bit her bottom lip and shook her head with an apologetic smile on her face, "Sorry Nick, but it's just that you are so...how can I say?" She paused, "You just look great."

I changed the subject, "We have to talk?"

"Yes," she said. Business-like Jools was back and I was actually quite glad. "Right, now where were we? Ok Nick, the way you looked and sang in there, my God, it was unbelievable." She fixed her gaze on me and gave me this intense look, "You didn't watch yourself as you sang, but Nick I have never seen you sing like that, look like that, perform like that. Never! The feeling, the emotion, the body language? Awesome, totally awesome." She paused to let her words sink in.

Whilst my cheeks were burning at her words, I was also burning inside. Not with embarrassment but with pride. I always knew deep down inside that I had that indefinable 'it'. I just didn't know where it was. But was this what it takes to bring it out? "Uhh thanks," I murmured.

She wasn't finished, "Nick, I know this is a biggie, but I really do think this could be it. Do you catch my drift?"

I swallowed, suddenly feeling queasy and a myriad of clashing emotions flooding me. I croaked, "Yeah, I understand."

She raised her eyebrows and slowly exhaled. "Well, what do you think Nick?"

I sat still for a few moments and tried to collect my thoughts. I began hesitantly, "All right Jools, I admit, as hard as it is to say it, I look like a girl. But there's so much more at stake here." I paused again and then tried to articulate my feelings, "Hypothetically speaking, if we go for this, I have to not only look like a girl, I have to talk like a girl, have mannerisms like a girl, behave like a girl, walk like a girl, think like a girl." I stopped, the implication sunk in and I half-whispered, "I have to BE a girl." It was my turn to take the deep breath.

Julie slowly nodded, "You're right. You're absolutely right. There's no half measures here, sure there's not?"

I nodded and thought aloud, "If we were to go for this, all out success is what we'd have to go for. To make it...worth it. And if that is the case, well, the truth couldn't get out." I swallowed hard, "I can't believe I'm thinking about this."

Julie smiled sympathetically, "Nick you have to think about this. I really do believe this is the big opportunity. The price is high, but the potential reward is too. If this is the only way to reach your goals, and I'm afraid I think it might be, if so, can you afford not to consider it?"

"I guess not," I murmured. "But there is so much to think about, so many things to cover, so many things that would need to be sorted."

She put her hand over mine and looked me in the eyes, "Nick. Don't worry yourself about all the details. I can handle them. I'm good with details. If you decide to go for this, I'm here with you each step of the way." She paused, "Well, that is, I don't mean to presume, but if you want me to help that is."

"Jools!" I protested, "Of course I would want you, I would need you." I grinned foolishly and allowed a little flight of fancy, "If this is the big one for me, hitting the top, then it's the big one for you. A star needs an agent." I winked.

She laughed, we both laughed. Then I thought some more, "But I don't know if I can do it. I mean to go in front of a major label company? I don't know if I can pull it off. The whole thing, you know, being a girl?"

Julie nodded, "Why do you think I spun them the story about you not being able to meet them until the 23rd December? Almost 5 weeks away. That gives us plenty of time to work on all these things."

"You really do seem to think of everything. I mean you didn't know how this afternoon would turn out, but if it did turn out right, you are thinking several moves ahead it seems. I hope you can keep ahead on this. You are quite something!"

She smiled and her cheeks flushed a little, "What a team we could make."

I smiled and then thought of more things, "Hold on, what did you say my name was when you were talking to them? And which record company did you approach?"

Julie grinned, "I said I wasn't prepared to reveal your name yet as you were intent on privacy at this stage and wouldn't permit me to reveal it unless there was a face to face meeting with a real proposal on the table." She laughed, "They were practically drooling. Tell them there's something they really want and then almost tell them they can't have it. But you are right, you'd need to think of a name if we're going to run with this."

"The record company?" I reminded her.

She hesitated and then with a little smile, "Sony records."

I blinked a few times and knew before I asked, "Who were you dealing with?"

She smiled, she knew I knew, "Simon Andrews."

"Jools! What are you playing at; why on earth would you pick him? I mean he has seen me, the real me just this last week and has heard me sing? Do you want this to fail at the first hurdle?"

She shook her head and said evenly, "Think about it. If it is going to fail then better it fails right away. Minimum of embarrassment, no scandal. We have to be very, very careful if we proceed with this. No slips, no mistakes. So if we can't pull it off with Simon Andrews, at least we know. If we can, on the other hand, then that in my book means we have every chance of success."

I nodded, she was right. Of course she was right, she nearly always was. I couldn't quite believe I was considering this, but could I dare not consider it? "Alright, I'm going to need to do some serious thinking and sleep on this."

"Ok, well I guess we should get you ready for the road again, miss," she teased.

I gave her a playful slap as she got up and danced out my reach into the bedroom. I realised that taking the make-up off could take almost as long as putting it on. It was with a weird feeling inside me that I undressed, removing the skirt and blouse. I didn't quite know what it was. Regret? Julie freed me from the corset and gave me some privacy whilst I redressed in my shirt and jeans. When ready to go, I glanced in the mirror. My own clothes, no make-up, but the hair was still the same curled coiffed style. It would need to be washed out later. I was shocked at how much I still looked like a girl. Was it just a hairstyle, or did I somehow look different now? I shrugged and after begging a baseball cap off Julie to hide my curls, we left and she drove me home. We didn't talk much on the journey. We both seemed to have a lot occupying our minds. She stopped outside my flat and I gave her a rueful grin before getting out of the car, "Hell of a day, Jools."

She laughed and leant over and gave me a peck on the cheek, "It sure was."

I paused, "I'll ring you in the morning and, well, let you know."

She smiled, "Do that. Because if, well, if you are going to...we'll have a heck of a lot to do."

----------*----------

That evening, alone in my flat, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't settle to concentrate on anything. I tried to play first the keyboard and then the guitar to settle my mind. Unusually, I couldn't concentrate on the music as my mind kept drifting. The image of myself earlier that day kept coming back into my mind and phrases from my and Jools' conversation were playing over and over again in my mind. I tried to lie on the sofa, close my eyes and turn my stereo up loud and let the music soothe me. But it was all to no avail. Eventually at 10pm I gave up and decided to do the unthinkable -- go to bed early.

Surprisingly I fell into a deep sleep fairly quickly but it was a troubled sleep. I must have woken several times during the night and was aware of intense dreams. Whilst I couldn't exactly recall them, I knew they involved me singing and performing as, well as a girl. One time I woke in a cold sweat, my heart thumping. Some cold water on the face, and a drink of water helped settle me down and at last I got a decent period of undisturbed sleep.

I woke of my own accord and noticed it was just getting light. A quick check of my bedside clock revealed it was only 8 am. I hadn't woken of my own accord at this time for as long as I could remember. I lay there and thankfully, my mind seemed a little clearer. Some people say that sleeping on things, decisions, problems whatever, is definitely a good thing. I don't know whether the subconscious mind is able to process and work its way through things or not, but certainly I felt more settled this morning. I folded my arms behind my head and looked up at the ceiling. I realised that my mind was made up. I wasn't exactly sure when this had happened, but I knew what I was going to do. I reached out and grabbed the bedside phone. I was going to ring Jools and let her know now before I changed my mind.

After several rings she answered the phone and sounded decidedly sleepy, "Hello?"

I grinned to myself, "Jools? What are you still doing in bed? For heaven's sake woman, there's so much to be doing and you're sleeping in? Do you think this is what I pay an agent for?"

"Nick?" she said puzzledly. Then after a moment during which her brain obviously processed what I had said she continued, this time sounding much more lucid, "Nick! You mean...?" Her voice trailed off as if she was unsure what to say.

I chuckled, "Jools -- let's do it."

I heard a squeal from the other end of the phone, "You mean it? Now, are you sure? You aren't just winding me up? You've thought about this haven't you?"

"Slow down, Jools," I urged. "Yes, I have thought about it. I'm scared, no, I'm petrified. But if this is it, if this is the big one, I have to know, we have to find out."

"Oh my god," she whispered breathily, "I was up half the night worrying that you might not go for it. And then I was worried that you would so I was working out all we would need to do." She hardly paused for breath, "Right. Ok right. We need to sort some things out and get ready. I'll be right over, get some coffee on."

I laughed, "Alright Jools, you get some clothes on. See you soon."

I put the phone down and took a deep breath. I wasn't exactly sure about all the things I was feeling, but I knew that part of it was excitement. I showered and actually washed and conditioned my hair properly, before drying it and giving it a proper combing. I pulled on a clean T-shirt and pair of jeans and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was not really curly any more, but it was still sleek and wavy. It was quite feminine and being honest, I thought it looked well.

Not long after the coffee had percolated, the door buzzer chirped. I let Jools in and she came bounding up the stairs, straight in and threw her arms around me. I was startled, but returned the hug. She released me and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "Nick," she said breathlessly, "we are going to make it big. I think you've made an extremely brave decision, but I think it will pay off."

I shrugged feeling a bit uncomfortable, but forced a smile, "Well, I guess we owe it to ourselves to see anyway."

We sat down to some coffee and toast and Jools began, "OK Nick, for us to move ahead, tell me what you have thought about."

I paused and gathered my thoughts as best as I could, "Alright. The way I see it, if we are going to go for this, it has to be done as best as possible." I breathed deeply, "No half measures. And that scares me, but not as much as ballsing it all up by making a half-cocked attempt does." I paused and looked at her but she motioned for me to go on so I continued, "Another thing is that there should be no links between Nick Evans and the new me." I looked around the flat and with a rueful grin stated, "So I guess I can't really stay here. Not that I'm best buddies with the other tenants in the building, but they know me and if I start dressing in skirts and all, I think they might make the connection." I stopped and looked over at Jools, "What do you think?"

She nodded slowly, "I think you have it spot on and it's exactly what I have been thinking. I'm glad you've worked these things out for yourself though. To be honest, I don't think it's just a matter of not staying here any more, I think you should give your notice to the landlord and move out completely."

I raised my eyebrows, "Wow, sort of final isn't that?"

She nodded again, "Well yes. But I think the way we should do things should be to assume that it's going to work out, let's assume you get a record deal, let's assume you make it big. Hell, let's assume you become the next big name in music." She paused to let her words sink in before going on, "If so, you don't want to be haunted by us not having done things right at this time. You don't want any loose ends. Let's make the break, Nick, and let's go for it."

I took a long slow drink of my coffee. My mouth still felt dry though. After a few moments I nodded and sort of half-croaked, "OK Jools." I thought of the obvious, "OK, so I move out of here, what about my stuff and where am I going to live?"

She grinned, "Well, I've sort of thought about that and have an idea."

I mock-groaned, "Why am I not surprised?"

She shook her head, "Now now, none of that. What I was thinking is that we both head down to my parents' house on the south coast and we stay there for the next four weeks working on everything and give it all we can."

"Where do your parents live?"

"Between Plymouth and Seaton, a little village on the Devon coast," she replied.

"Umm, but Jools, I can't quite picture how this will work: Hi Mum and Dad, this is Nick, but he's going to become a girl, can we stay here?"

She laughed, "Silly. They won't be there. They spend most of the winter in Florida. I don't think they plan to be back until March or so."

"Well for some," I murmured. I guessed the Carstairs' import and export business was going well and someone else was doing the work whilst they enjoyed Florida's winters.

I thought some more, "I'll have to cancel my gigs at The Last Stop. What will I tell Dave McCann?"

Jools shrugged, "Remember, if all goes to plan, he'll never see Nick Evans again."

I mused, "Guess I could say I've got cheesed off with it all and am heading back to Wales to Music College or something."

She nodded, "Sounds good. That can be your story for tying up all your loose ends here."

"What about money though?" I wondered.

"It won't really be a big issue as you'll be staying at Mum and Dad's, but we will have some expenses: new wardrobe etc." She looked at me with a knowing look.

I sighed, "I know. Sell my songs to Sony. Ten grand."

"And 2% of the royalties, don't forget that!" she chirped in.

I nodded, "But where will 'Nick' be to collect the royalties, if there ever were any?"

She smiled, she'd obviously thought of that, "Fill in a bank transfer form as part of the agreement, they'll pay directly into your bank account. They don't need to know where you are."

I nodded, "Alright. I guess I'll not be needing those songs anymore."

We talked through other details. I was going to move most of my things into a storeroom at her office and leave my car at her place. I would bring most of my music equipment down to Devon so I could work on more songs. I was going to tell Mum and Dad I was going down there to get some peace to write new material and that I would get in touch with them in a few weeks. Mum and Dad. I didn't want to think about them as I had no idea how I could explain what we were contemplating. I tried not to think about that for now.

It was nearly lunchtime before we finished. It was Wednesday and we planned to head down to Devon first thing Saturday morning. Jools left and her parting shot was that I had two days to come up with a new name also.

----------*----------

The next two days were a flurry of activity. I spoke to my landlord and told him I was moving out at the weekend. He didn't shed any tears or anything and thankfully I was able to talk him down to one week's rent as my notice because he had someone looking to move in right away. I broke the news to Dave about having to cancel my gigs. He was obviously disappointed and I felt bad leaving him in the lurch. I felt bad about not being up front with him, but I couldn't really tell him what was going on. He wouldn't have believed it. I barely did.

Jools and I made countless trips across London in our cars ferrying my stuff to her place. She had been busy too. She had to contact all her clients and tell them she was taking a brief 'holiday' but would be contactable on her mobile for anything urgent.

I got the money from Sony, too. I talked with Simon Andrews on the phone and he seemed delighted that I had reconsidered. He was less happy when I added the 2% royalties clause, but when he realised I was going to walk away from the deal otherwise, he gave in. He wanted to meet again to finalise things, but I had no desire to meet him again as 'Nick' so I got out of it by flattering his ego. I said I was sure he was far too busy and if he left the contract and cheque at the reception on his floor, I'd call in, sign it and take the money. It worked and I did so without event. The money was duly lodged in my account.

On Friday night, all loose ends seemed to be tied up. I was staying in Jools' spare bedroom as my flat was empty and I had seen the last of it. It wasn't overly devastating. I had never really looked upon it as home. It was a place to stay in the interim until my number came up. Maybe that time was now. I didn't know, but as I drifted off to sleep I felt more than a little anticipation at what lay ahead tomorrow and beyond.

----------*----------

CHAPTER 3

Saturday morning started out as a crisp, clear late autumn day: frost on the ground and pale sunshine with a clear blue sky. We were on the road by just after 9 am as we had about a 5 hour journey ahead of us. Julie drove a 5 series BMW. She said it wasn't for the status, but more because it was to appease client expectations, give them confidence or something. Sure Jools.

We had managed to fit in all my music equipment and Jools' suitcases. Rather disconcertingly we hadn't packed any clothes or belongings for me. I understood why, but it sort of brought the finality of things home to me. At least with it being a Saturday the hateful London traffic was less than usual. It was never absent, but relatively speaking, the roads were quiet. Before long we were outside the perimeter of the M25 and heading down the A30 dual carriageway. We hadn't talked much so far as we were both still in the process of waking up completely.

"So have you decided yet?" Jools asked.

"Huh?" I replied intelligently.

"A name," she said in a tone that indicated that I should obviously have known what she was asking me.

"Yes," I said a little hesitantly.

"Well?" she said impatiently, "Don't keep me in suspense."

I shrugged somewhat shyly, "Well I don't know if you'll like it or not..."

"Pfffft!" she said, or something that sounded like that, "It's more important that you like it, now come on, out with it."

"OK," I sighed, "it's Cara Malone."

She smiled, "Cara Malone?" She pondered and nodded slowly before repeating, "Cara Malone. I like it."

I looked over at her uncertainly, "You sure?"

"Definitely, it's classy, feminine and distinctive. Where did you get that from?"

I laughed a little, "To be honest, I don't really know. I've just been thinking about it over and over the past few days and when I woke up yesterday morning, it sort of just popped into my head. I liked it."

"Alright, Cara, we have a name then."

I felt myself blush a little as she called me by the new name. "That feels so strange," I murmured.

She giggled, "I thought it might, but seriously, from now on you have to be so conditioned to respond to Cara that you don't think about it. And the reverse: you don't respond to Nick."

I nodded. Of course she was right. As the journey progressed we chatted about this and that. Reminiscences, friends, music. She continued to refer to me as Cara as much as she could and after a while I didn't feel just so uncomfortable with it. I think I would have found it easier if, well if I looked more like a Cara. But I guessed that would come before much longer.

We stopped for coffee just outside Salisbury and again for lunch on the far side of Exeter. I didn't have much of an appetite. Excitement or nerves? I wasn't quite sure which. We had about another hour to drive.

"OK, the list," Jools said.

I grinned. She had this habit of talking as if I really should know what she meant when I had no clue. "The list?" I asked.

"Yes. The list of who knows."

"Of who knows?"

She sighed, "Yes c'mon Cara, keep with it. The list of people who know about you."

I think I caught her drift, "Ah I see. Well it's you and me isn't it."

She nodded, "Yes. I think we need to guard the list carefully."

I puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"I think we need to think very seriously before ever adding anyone to the list. And no-one gets added to the list without us discussing it and agreeing on it. You agree?"

"I guess," I replied, "But who else are we ever going to add to the list?" As I asked it, I realised some of the answers and continued, "Oh right. Like my folks and so on." I grimaced.

"Yes, but we can cross those bridges if and when we come to them. However there is one person I want to add to the list a lot sooner than that. In fact very soon."

I was intrigued, "How soon? And who?"

"Well," she checked the time, "In about 45 minutes. And it's Beth, my sister."

"Beth," I said slowly and thoughtfully. Beth Carstairs was Julie's younger sister. Two years younger if I remembered correctly which put her about 25 years old. I had met her once or twice when she was up visiting Jools in London but didn't really know her at all.

"Umm why do we have to add her? Does she live at your parents' home?"

"Well, yes she does, but that's only one of the reasons we should add her," Jools replied. She went on to ask, "Do you know what Beth does?"

I racked my brain. I may have been told before but couldn't remember. "No sorry, I can't remember."

Jools looked over at me and gave me one of those smiles which always made me nervous. "Well Cara, she sort of runs her own business in Plymouth."

I knew she was dragging this out but I played along, "What's her business?"

"She owns a salon."

"A salon?" I asked, "What sort of salon?" I had a fair idea and knew where this was likely to be heading.

"She runs a beauty salon. And she's pretty darned good at it too."

If she was anything like as determined as her older sister, I could well believe that. "I see," I replied.

"You do?" Jools asked.

I nodded, "Well, I need to become Cara in many ways. And I imagine Beth has certain...skills, which would be helpful to that end."

She grinned at me, "You're very understanding. But you are right and I think Beth will be invaluable to us. Err, you know how I said earlier about us discussing and agreeing together before adding someone else to the list?" She sounded a little tentative.

"You've already told Beth," I said matter-of-factly.

"Yes," she replied guiltily. "Are you annoyed?"

I shrugged. I wasn't so why pretend to be. "No, it's fine." I looked at her watching me worriedly so I smiled, "It's fine, really."

She smiled looking somewhat relieved. "It's just I had to tell her in advance to make sure she can help this afternoon."

"Go on," I said, "this afternoon?"

"Yes, I figured that we shouldn't delay your 'conversion' into Cara. Minimise the chances of anyone down here seeing you as you are now. No point wasting time, we may as well get on with it. So anyways, the salon closes at lunchtime on Saturdays but Beth is going to stay behind and meet us there. There'll be no-one else there and she can work her magic on you. I've got her to get a few things that we will need."

I just smiled, "Jools, it's as well I trust you and I'm glad you are my friend. I sure wouldn't want you for an enemy."

I think she almost blushed which would be a first, "Oh you," she said dismissively and returned her full attention to the road ahead. We were nearing the outskirts of Plymouth and I felt the nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach grow stronger the closer we got.

----------*----------

"La Belle Femme" was on a relatively quiet side-street off Mayflower Street in Plymouth town centre. Jools pulled up right outside and illegally parked.

"Can you leave the car here?" I asked.

"Not really," she grinned, "but I won't be leaving it too long so it'll be Ok."

"You aren't?" I puzzled, "I thought we would be here for some time?"

She laughed, "Oh you and Beth will be, but I was going to head out to Silsbury Manor and get some things unpacked."

"Silsbury manor," I pondered, "that's your parents' home?"

She nodded and I raised my eyebrows wondering what to expect. But then I refocused, "Hold on, so you are leaving me here alone with Beth?"

She looked at me with a little smile, "She won't bite you know."

I shrugged awkwardly, "I know, but well it's just sort of weird enough let alone being with someone I don't know while undergoing..." I searched for words, "well my transformation."

Julie squeezed my arm, "Trust me, you'll get on fine with Beth. Plus I think it will be good for you two to get to know each other. Beth will be helping us a fair bit over the next few weeks."

I sighed and grinned ruefully, "Alright, guess I'll have to trust you. Yet again."

We got out of the car and Jools knocked on the door of the salon. The blinds were down but it wasn't long before the door opened and there was Beth. She gave Jools a big hug, "Heya big sis, good to see you."

"You too," laughed Jools returning the hug.

We stepped inside and Beth turned to me and a little shyly said, "Hi, you must be Nick." She went as if to shake my hand but then shrugged and reached up and gave me a little hug.

Jools grinned, and looking at me said, "Oh it's not Nick anymore, sure it's not?"

I grimaced a little but forced a faint smile and turned to Beth, "No it's not Nick anymore, I'm...Cara Malone."

She smirked, not unpleasantly, "Well hi Cara, it's great to meet you. Jools has filled me in on most of the details and I think you're extremely brave to give this a go."

I half-laughed, half-snorted, "Or maybe it's extremely foolish I'm not quite sure."

I noticed Beth staring at me, she seemed to be appraising me, "Oh I don't know," she mused, "I'd say you have great potential."

I blushed and didn't quite know what to say and thankfully Jools stepped in, "Right, how about getting things kicked off, there's lots to do."

"Yes you're right," Beth said. "Alright Ni...Cara, do you want to pop into this cubicle here and change out of these boring clothes and put on the items you'll find in there?"

I figured the question was rhetorical so I just smiled and nodded before heading into the cubicle. I wasn't sure what I would find there, but it was just a simple white robe. Oh and then I noticed the skimpy black nylon panties on the chair. Well, I thought to myself, this is what I'm here for. So I pulled off my shoes, socks, T-shirt, jeans and boxer shorts. I slipped on the panties and again noted to myself the lack of unpleasant sensations on doing so. I think that was as much as I could bring myself to admit at the moment. I wrapped the robe around me. It came to around my knees. I gathered up my clothes in my arms and stepped outside.

Jools smiled at me, "Want me to take those?" she offered.

"Err OK," I replied, "what are you going to do with them?"

She smiled gently at me, "What do you think I should do with them, Cara?"

I swallowed and then nodded, "I guess you should just get rid of them somewhere." I paused, "I'll not be needing them again I guess."

She smiled and gave me a little peck on the cheek as she took the clothes from me, "I'll see you both later and I think you'll be looking quite different Cara by the time I get back." She headed for the door and turning to Beth before she left, "Give me a ring on my mobile when you are nearly done and I'll scoot back over. Have fun you girls!"

She went out, got back into her car and drove off. I looked at Beth and she smiled at me. "Are you ready?" she asked gently. I grinned and nodded, "As ready as I'll ever be I guess."

She grinned back, "OK, well first things first. Body hair. Or rather getting rid of it more like."

I smiled wryly, "Shouldn't be too big a job, I'm not exactly what you'd call the hairiest."

She nodded, "Good, but we still need to get things right, from now on it's hairlessness we need. What I was planning was to do a full all-over body wax if that's Ok."

I shrugged, "Erm I guess. I'm thinking it will be painful, but you know best."

She nodded and smiled apologetically, "It will be painful, I am afraid, but it will give good lasting results. Far better than shaving, and actually less longterm skin irritation compared with most depilatory preparations."

"Ok then," I said trying to sound brave, "Let's get started."

She brought me over to a couch, "Now Cara, you'll need to remove your robe for this."

I nodded and removed the robe feeling more than a little embarrassed as I climbed up onto the couch. She began with my legs and spread hot wax onto the front surfaces of them. It actually felt quite nice and soothing. That was until she started to strip the wax off. It felt like she was tearing my skin off. It brought tears to my eyes and took all my self-control to stop myself from crying out or reaching down to stop her.

She smiled up at me sympathetically but carried on as quickly as she could. Then she had me roll over and repeated the process on the backs of my legs. When she finished that, it felt as if my legs were on fire. But there was more to come. The same procedure was repeated on my arms. She took a razor to my armpits as she explained that waxing would be too painful. I found it hard to imagine it being any more painful than it had been thus far so I was grateful. I had very little back and chest hair and I was glad. The removal of what little I had was nigh on excruciating.

"Darn," I muttered through gritted teeth, "I hope I don't have to get this done too often."

She looked at me and smiled, "We can think about other techniques that would have...more lasting effect for next time." She paused and looked a bit uncomfortable, "Cara...this is a little bit delicate. But...well, as we will be trying to minimise any 'bulge' down there," she indicated my groin region, "it might be an idea to remove the hair from there." She looked embarrassed herself.

I nodded and said slowly, "Err alright. You want me to remove my panties?"

She raised her eyebrows, "Only if you are comfortable enough with this."

I laughed a little at that, "I wouldn't call it comfortable, but it's fine." I slipped them off and felt very vulnerable lying there. Beth took the razor and gently and gingerly began to shave. After a few minutes she looked up and said, "Sorry but I'm going to have to..." and she lifted my privates to shave around and below. I exerted all the willpower I could, but couldn't help from preventing some stirring in that region. Beth was a very attractive woman. She was petite and slim with long auburn hair.

"I'm really sorry, Beth," I murmured feeling mortified.

"Don't be," she reassured, "I'm basically done. You want to slip your panties back on?"

I can safely say I was never as glad to pull on a pair of skimpy black panties as I was then. I was now hairless from my neck down. She then explained that she was going to rub in some moisturiser to minimise any skin irritation. This was the nice part as she massaged the cool cream into my skin all over. I lay back and closed my eyes and relished in the soothing sensations. I was almost disappointed when she was finished.

"Right. Hair," she said brightly as she gestured towards the washbasin. I sat down in the chair in front and laid my head back onto the shaped edge of the basin. She began to rinse with steaming hot water and I closed my eyes enjoying the relaxing feeling. Shampoo, conditioner and dear knows what else, then another good rinse and she was done.

"Your hair is lovely and soft," she said, "But it could be in better condition. Don't you look after it?" She almost sounded accusing.

"Erm, well no, not really. Sorry."

I think she must have seen the look of guilt in my eyes, she laughed, "Sorry I didn't mean to get heavy-handed, but from now on you are going to have to look after it much better."

I nodded, "Sure" as she began to comb it out. She lightly dried it off with a hairdryer before stopping and sitting down in front of me. She smiled at me, "How do you feel about hair extensions?"

"Umm hair extensions?" I said not knowing how I felt about them at all.

"Yes, hair extensions. Your hair is of reasonable length, but I think it would look so much better if it came down to about here," she gestured to just below my shoulder blades. "I'm pretty sure I'll have an exact match here and trust me, no-one will spot the fact that they are extensions. It'll be as real as your own hair."

I shrugged and felt my heart quicken. The pace of all this was accelerating but then I knew it would have to. I forced a smile, "Sure. No half measures eh?"

She grinned, "I know Jools told me you were willing to go all out for this, but I just want to check each step of the way."

"Thanks," I said softly and I meant it.

She came back with a few different shades of hair extensions and finding one that matched mine exactly, began to weave them in. It took quite some time and I just closed my eyes and let her get on with it. Once done, she brushed vigorously through my hair and nodded, "There we go, impossible to tell. Now for a bit of style. I was going to give you a permawave if that's alright."

I laughed, "It's fine, but you'll have to tell me what it is first."

She laughed too, "I keep forgetting that you are not one of my regular customers and that you don't understand the lingo. A permawave is somewhere between a perm, and a little waviness in your hair. So it won't be totally curly, but it has more body than just a little wave in your hair. Ok?"

I nodded and grinned, "Sure, fire away. I'm in your hands."

She weaved my hair in and out of what looked like long rollers. It wasn't as tightly wound as the other day when Jools did it. Then she sprayed something strong smelling over my hair and placed what looked like a large shower cap over my hair. "Ok, we leave that for about half an hour, then rinse your hair and get you on the dryer."

"What's next then, boss?" I asked.

She grinned, "Well I was wondering what you think about your facial hair."

I smiled lamely, "There isn't much to wonder about. I haven't shaved for 2 days now on Jool's instructions and as you can see, there isn't much to write home about."

She nodded, "That's probably a good thing." She paused and began hesitantly, "How would you feel about permanent removal of facial hair?"

I paused and whilst initially reacting against such a suggestion, realised that it made little difference. "Well, I guess I'm never planning on growing much of a beard no matter what the future holds. So, in that case, I guess I'm open to suggestions."

She nodded, "I can give you a number of electrolysis treatments over the next few weeks which will essentially effect permanent loss of facial hair. Think about it, no more shaving!"

I smiled cautiously, "I can see the advantages."

"And because you don't have much in the way of facial hair, the treatments will be mild, should be effective, and without side-effects. So what do you think?"

I shrugged, "Go for it, I guess."

She got her kit and began to work on my face applying a small electrical current to each hair for about 15 seconds. It took about half an hour or so before she was done. She rubbed a hand over my face and smiled, "Baby smooth."

I smiled, I didn't quite know how to react. She continued, "I'll repeat this once a week or so over the next month and depending on how well we get on, we may need a repeat treatment once a month or so. Or we may not."

She brought me back over to the sink and, removing the cap, rinsed the foul smelling stuff out of my hair. She put the rollers back in again and then sat me down under one of those big hair-dryer helmet things. "About half an hour here to dry. Whilst your hair is drying, I was thinking I could work on your nails."

"My nails?" I asked

"Yes. I could paint your toenails and then give you a new set of fingernails."

"Umm, why bother to paint my toenails, and what do you mean a new set of fingernails?"

She smiled patiently, "Why the toenails?" She shrugged, "It's part of the overall effect I guess. No-one sees them often, but you do and it conditions you in a small way perhaps. By a new set of fingernails I basically mean a set of acrylic nails which are essentially glued on over yours. They look perfect, they are hard, durable and stylishly feminine."

I shrugged, "Well OK I guess."

She began to paint my toenails a deep reddish brown colour explaining that she felt it fitted in well with my natural colouring. After a few coats I was sitting there with bits of cotton wool between my toes to keep them apart whilst drying. She got a set of nails and after measuring a few against my fingers she decided on the right size. "How long do you want them to be?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said wrinkling my brow, "What do you think?"

She shrugged, "You can have them as long as you like, up to an inch if you wanted."

I screwed up my face, "No, that wouldn't do. It'd affect my guitar and piano playing." I pondered, "Although a little bit of length would help my guitar finger picking I guess. How about this long or so?" I asked indicating a distance of about 3 or 4 millimetres.

"Great!" she said, "Now what about colour?" Seeing the familiar blank look on my face she laughed, "You can have them clear like ordinary unpainted nails, but to be honest, then you have the hassle of having to paint them. You can get them coloured and then you don't have to worry about painting them, but if you want to, you can paint another colour over them. Now make sure you realise, once these are on, they are on until they grow out basically."

I felt a little overwhelmed and just asked her to do what she thought was best. She selected a dark reddish-brown colour and began her work. I rested back under the dryer and I think with the warmth I must have drifted off. She gently shook me, "Come on sleeping beauty. There's more to be doing," she chuckled.

I blinked a few times as I felt a little disorientated and went to rub my eyes and scratched myself, "Ow," I complained. I looked down at my hands and saw my new nails. I was awestruck. I stretched out my fingers and looked at them one way, then another.

"Beautiful aren't they?" murmured Beth.

"Yes," I said without thinking. "Umm, that is, they make my hands look slimmer and more..."

"Feminine?" she prompted. I grinned and shrugged awkwardly.

Placing the cap back on over my dry hair and leaving the rollers in place she brought me back into what looked like a dressing room. "Now," she said. "I've got something special for you in this box."

She opened the box and lifted two familiar shaped objects out of them. They were obviously breast forms. "These are very special, state of the art stuff," she told me, "Finest silicon forms with a synthetic latex covering that is the closest to mocking natural skin I've seen. They don't come cheap, but Jools insisted we cut no corners in this area."

I looked at them, "They look quite big."

She smiled and shrugged, "Jools thought that as you are trying to make an impact with your music and your image why would you want to skimp in this area."

I rolled my eyes.

"Now, I've got some medical adhesive here," she demonstrated. "Pasting this onto your chest and the underside of the breasts will ensure they stay in place and move appropriately. I think it lasts for about a month at a time." Walking towards me, she raised her eyebrows, "Shall I?"

I nodded and swallowed. "Sure," I croaked.

She applied the adhesive and then held the breast forms onto my chest making sure the positioning was perfect. She held them firm for about 5 minutes before letting go. The feeling was one of the strangest feelings I have ever had. I felt unbalanced and the sensation of movement in front of me did not feel right at all.

"Well?" she asked, "How do they feel?"

"I -- I don't know," I stammered, "It's sort of weird."

"Feel them," she encouraged.

I lifted my hands and cupped my breasts. They felt pretty real. I raised my eyebrows. Beth noticed.

"Good aren't they?" she asked with a smile.

I nodded, "They feel very realistic."

"They look it too, even without a bra or anything. Look," she gestured to a mirror. She was right, they did look very real. They didn't quite match my skin tone but apart from that, they looked like the real McCoy.

The next step was another corset and it was just like the other day as she laced me in tight. It had the effect of constricting my waist down as before, but also pushed my breasts up and out more.

"Beth?" I asked, "What size are these breasts just out of interest?"

She smiled, "D cup."

I rolled my eyes, "Did you have to get such...big ones?"

She laughed, "No half measures, remember? And sure, the guys will love it."

My face felt as if it was burning and I felt as if I had been hit in the stomach. The guys? To be perfectly honest, I really hadn't considered the prospect of interacting with guys as a woman. Or the effect I might have on them. It was very disconcerting. I was distracted from thinking about it further as Beth handed me a small flesh coloured garment.

"What's this?" I asked.

"It's a gaff," she explained. "It's to help hide any bulges, you know, down below. I'll turn away and you can slip it on and put your panties back on. If you need any help, just ask." She winked mischievously.

I worked out how it went on and as I pulled it up and on tight, it had the desired effect. I replaced my panties and told Beth I was ready. Next she handed me a pair of stockings and having watched how Jools had put them on me the other day, I was able to do it reasonably well myself. Beth seemed impressed. I clipped them onto the suspenders at the bottom of my corset and stood up waiting for what was to come.

"Here you go Cara," she smiled, "Your first dress." She handed me a little black dress and I took it and looked at it. My first dress. I gathered that it was meant to go on over my head, there was no zip or anything so I shrugged and slipped it on. I pulled it down, straightened it and made sure it fit well around my breasts and then I tugged the hem down. It was long-sleeved, form fitting and came to just above my knees.

Again I had to admit to myself that wearing a dress and stockings didn't feel unpleasant. In fact, the sensation of stockings on my recently waxed, now smooth legs was quite exquisite. I was glad I didn't have to admit this out loud though.

"Nice," mused Beth. "Now for some shoes." She handed me a pair of shiny black shoes. They had a 2 inch or so heel and I slipped them on. Of course they fit perfectly. The Carstairs girls didn't seem to get much wrong.

She brought me over to a make up chair, which wasn't facing a mirror and I sat down. She looked at my face, "Your eyes are a strong feature. So deep and brown, we'll be able to bring them out nicely." She began by rubbing moisturiser into my face and a similar procedure followed like the other day with foundation being added shortly afterwards and setting powder.

"Eyebrows," she said.

"What about them?" I asked having a suspicion as to what was coming.

"I was going to pluck them to make them look more feminine if that's OK?" she asked.

"Work away," I said, "That's what I'm here for."

It was painful and brought tears to my eyes. She plucked, plucked and plucked until was sure I had no eyebrows left. At last she was satisfied and sat back and smiled. "There, that looks much better." She began to apply eye-liner and several shades of eye shadow before coating my lashes with mascara. Again some rouge and then lipstick. She chose a rich red-brown colour and carefully painted my lips and then added some gloss.

She sprayed me with some perfume and winked, "Jools said to ensure the whole experience was given." I snorted.

"Oh," she said, "I almost forgot." She went and brought a box over from the bench, "Jools and I got you this as a little sort of starting out present." She smiled shyly.

"What is it?" I smiled curiously.

"Open it," she urged.

I opened the box and inside was a jewellery set. Gold. Not cheap looking. I looked up, "Wow. This looks...lovely."

She smiled and lifted out a medium sized gold chain and fixed it around my neck. I picked out a gold watch, "Really lovely," I mused as I slipped it on my left wrist. She placed a thin gold chain on my right wrist. There were two rings in the box, one went on the ring finger of my right hand, and the other on the third finger of my left hand. All that remained in the box was a pair of gold hoop earrings. I lifted them out and soon realised that they weren't clip-ons.

"Umm, these aren't clip-ons," I said stating the obvious. "They are for pierced ears." I looked up at Beth.

She smiled and nodded, "Yes, well they came as part of the set, sorry."

I paused and thought. I looked up at her again. I took a deep breath and swallowed again. "Err, well I suppose...well it might be an idea..." I swallowed and continued, "It might be an idea to get my ears pierced...?" my voice trailed off and I added, "what do you think?"

She smiled and squeezed my arm. "Jools and I both think so, but we didn't want to force you into anything. But yes, if you are going for this all out, then it probably does make sense."

I nodded and fingered the gold hoops in my hands. They were really lovely. I nodded and chewed my lower lip for a moment before speaking, "OK, yes. Can you do it?"

She smiled, "Sure I can. Now do you want to put those hoops in now or studs? It will take about 4 weeks before the holes are healed and you can change earrings."

"Umm, the hoops are nice," I said.

She nodded, "Alright then." She got some ice and placed it against my left ear for a moment and then pierced it with her piercing gun. It was like a dull ache. She worked the hoop into place and then repeated the procedure with my right ear. It was another strange sensation to add to all the others: feeling earrings swing in my ears.

She sat and looked at me for a moment without speaking. I noticed and asked, "What is it?" She shook her head, but I persisted, "No come on, what is it?"

She shrugged, "Well I was just thinking. Well it depends on what sort of image you're going for, but if you're aiming to be a female star, musician whatever, well I was thinking you might want to think about more piercings? And if so, well if you proceeded now, they would be healed and good to go in 4 weeks. Just a thought."

I thought about it. I could see her point. But part of me was recoiling against it. I weighed it up and decided she definitely had a point and given I wasn't sure what grounds I had particularly for disagreeing.

"No half measures?" I said softly. She smiled and nodded. I asked, "What do you suggest?"

"Well, I was thinking that if I pierced each ear once more at least, that would probably be enough for now."

I took a deep breath, "OK"

"OK? You want me to?"

I nodded slowly, "Yes sure, go for it."

"Alright," she smiled, "I'll just put little gold studs in this time. The procedure was repeated in both ears. As she did it, I wondered what would happen if I was ever going to try to go back to being Nick, but I put that thought out of my head as it wasn't exactly helpful to the current situation.

"Nearly done," she said. She took the cap off my head and removed the rollers. Another vigorous brushing of my hair ensued and eventually she was done. She stood back and got me to stand up. I complied.

She gave a low whistle. "Well I never." I looked at her questioningly. She continued, "Jools told me how good you looked the other day, but I didn't think she meant this good. I mean, this is incredible. If I didn't know otherwise, I would swear blind that you are and always had been a woman. Unbelievable."

I felt my curiosity getting the better of me, "Can I see please?"

She brought me into the dressing room where there was a full-length mirror and I stopped dead in my tracks. It was like the other day only much more so this time. I had flowing long, sleek wavy black hair, pencil-thin eyebrows which at that current time were trying their best to make it up my forehead to my hairline. Perfectly made up, absolutely perfectly. I guessed Beth was pretty good at what she did. The dress clung to my figure which was shapely to say the least. The breasts were prominent, the waist narrow and my legs looked long and shapely.

"She was right," Beth mused.

"Hmm?" I said as my mind tried to regain control of my body.

"Jools said that when I was done with you I'd agree."

"Agree what?"

"She said you were absolutely gorgeous and would make me completely green with envy to look at you."

I waved a hand dismissively at her and winced, "Nonsense."

"No seriously," she said softly, "I see a lot of women in here, most not particularly beautiful, but some are. I'm not sure I've seen anyone in here more beautiful than you."

I didn't know what to say. "Thanks," I heard myself say as I turned to look at myself in the mirror again.

"You know," she said, "If you can sing half as good as you look, beware world because here comes Cara Malone!"

----------*----------

Time was marching on, it was well after seven and Beth had rang Jools to say there was little point in her coming back in to us. We would both come on out to Silsbury Manor in Beth's car. Beth handed me a short black jacket and after slipping it on, I stepped outside the salon. As she locked the door I felt extremely uncomfortable. It must have been obvious.

"What's wrong Cara?" she asked softly right beside me.

"Umm, I dunno," I replied, "I think I just feel very strange outside looking like I do and dressed like this." I paused, "I keep thinking people are going to start laughing and pointing or something."

She chuckled softly and took me by the arm as we walked round to the back of the salon to where her little Renault was parked, "Honey, trust me, they may stop and stare but there would be no laughing or pointing. Jealous looks, looks of desire maybe, but no-one is ever going to think you are anything other than a beautiful woman." She added, "Especially after the next 4 weeks."

I didn't know whether to be reassured or more disconcerted. It worked both ways on different levels. I mean, if I was wearing a black dress and made up to the nines, I was quite happy to be thought of as a woman. However the comment about no-one ever thinking I was anything but a woman? Was this a one-way trip I wondered? What if things didn't work out? I put these thoughts out of my head as Beth opened the passenger door for me.

"Sit down bottom first and then swing both legs in together," she murmured to me.

I did as she instructed and it was quite a strange movement compared to my normal one leg in first, then body, then other leg manoeuvre. I must have completed it satisfactorily though as she grinned at me and drove off. We drove for about 4 or 5 miles out of town into the dark countryside before Beth told me we were nearly there.

"Now," she said, "let me warn you. My parent's house is quite big. It can be quite overwhelming to first time visitors."

I shrugged but still I couldn't help but give a sharp intake of breath as she rounded the bend in the coastal road and I saw the lighted mansion on the next headland.

"You weren't half kidding," I murmured.

She smiled almost a little embarrassedly, "Yes well, I know."

"How long have your folks lived there?"

"Oh they got this place built about 17 years ago. It's not that old a building. So I was about 8 years old when we moved here. It's the only home really that Jools and I remember."

She pressed a button on a remote device beside her and the large wrought iron gates that we had driven up to began to slowly open. We drove through and began a slow drive up the long driveway to the house. Again another remote button pressed and one of the 4 garage doors slid open to admit her car. We climbed out and I saw Jools' car there alongside a sleek Jaguar and a sporty Mercedes. Her parents' cars I presumed. She led me over to a staircase at one side of the garage and keyed in a code on the lock beside the door at the top. We entered the house and about 10 seconds later Jools came dashing around a corner.

"Let me see, let me see," she said breathlessly.

Beth grinned and stood aside leaving me in the middle of the hallway standing there shyly. I smiled a little unsurely.

"Oh -- my -- god," Jools said slowly. She stared at me and shook her head slowly, "Oh my god," she repeated.

After an awkward moment's silence, I cleared my throat, "Umm do I look OK, Jools?"

She laughed, "Cara, darling, you are unbelievably gorgeous. I can't believe you were ever a man."

I winced again but figured pointing out the offensiveness of her statement would be inappropriate given that she meant it as a compliment.

Jools turned to Beth, "You are an absolute wizard sis."

Beth laughed and shook her head, "An artist is only as good as the raw material and the raw material in this case was awesome."

Jools grinned and inspected me closely. She took my hands in hers and ooh'ed at my nails, she winked at me as she looked at my breasts. She gently stroked my smooth cheek and then she noticed my earrings. She raised an eyebrow and asked me, "Were these your own decision?"

I nodded and smiled feeling quite embarrassed. "No half measures you know Jools," I quipped. She turned to Beth and raised an eyebrow.

"It was her choice," Beth replied indignantly, "I did not force her at all."

"OK OK," Jools said placatingly before turning back to me, "Just checking. I just want to make sure you're comfortable with everything Cara."

I laughed out loud, "Comfortable?" I grinned, "I wouldn't quite say that, but I'm aware of the need for all this and I'm still fully committed to it."

Jools grinned, "Fully committed?" She gestured to me and winked, "No kidding."

Before I could retort or pinch her or something, she clapped her hands, "So who's hungry?"

I suddenly realised I was absolutely starving. Not surprising really since Beth and I hadn't eaten anything all afternoon. We both made noises of confirmation and Jools led the way to the kitchen. The house was amazing. The hall was wooden panelled, wooden floored and very tastefully decorated. The kitchen was large and spacious. An Aga cooker in the corner made it warm and cosy and large French windows overlooked what I imagined in daylight would be a very pleasant view. We sat down at the table and Jools served us generous helpings of steaming cottage pie.

As I tucked in happily, I asked Jools, "Did you make this? It's really good."

She chuckled, "I resent your implication. But you are quite correct. I didn't make it, Mabel did."

I raised an eyebrow a forkful halfway to my mouth, "Mabel?"

She nodded, "Mabel Finniston is the housekeeper. She and her husband Sam live in the gate lodge. You probably didn't notice it in the dark as you drove in. Sam is the groundsman cum gardener cum handyman whatever. They're both in their sixties and have been working for Mum and Dad since we moved in here." She shrugged, "They're more like grandparents to us I guess."

I nodded and ate a few more mouthfuls before something struck me, "Umm Jools. Are they...well, are they on the list?"

Beth looked puzzled, but I knew Jools understood. She replied, "No they are not. I wasn't planning on telling them. It wouldn't be a problem, but looking at how you've turned out, I can't imagine any need to tell them."

I took a slow breath and murmured, "My first real test I guess." I was going to have to convince two people up close for a lengthy period of time that I was a woman. It was quite a daunting prospect.

We finished up dinner. I wasn't able to eat as much as I had thought I would which puzzled me. When I mentioned it to the girls, Beth grinned and pinched my waist, "I think your new corset might have something to do with that. Probably not a bad thing too. It will teach you to have a woman's appetite."

I grimaced and said with mock-drama, "The trials of being a woman."

We took cups of hot coffee into a comfortable little sitting room. It was very homely and I gladly sank into a soft chair.

"Cara?" Jools asked.

"Mmm?" I replied.

"I was thinking. Voice," she said enigmatically.

"Voice?" I replied, "What's wrong with my voice? Sure that's what got me into all this."

Jools looked puzzled for a moment, "Oh wait, not your singing voice. I was thinking, your speaking voice. You're going to need to do something with it don't you think? I mean, it's not as if you've got the most...," she stopped.

"Go on," I said with a sigh having a good idea what was coming.

"Sorry," she said wincing, "I was going to say it's not as if you have the most manly voice. I'm really sorry. But do you think you can do something with it? I mean, how about trying to speak from your throat or something, rather than from the bottom of your chest."

I pondered and nodded. I thought about it a bit and then felt I was ready to try something out. I noticed both of them looking at me expectantly. "Umm," I said in my normal voice, "I think I can try something, but I feel sort of awkward, I don't know what to say."

Beth clicked her fingers and reached down beside her chair and pulled out a magazine. It was a woman's magazine and she opened it at one of the short stories it contained. "Why don't you just read and see what you can do," she suggested helpfully.

It was a good idea so I took it and got ready to read. I closed my eyes and mentally imagined myself as a woman about to speak, sort of like I had done when singing before. I began to read out loud. I made my voice a little softer, but not weak or whispery. I did as Jools said and tried to speak from my throat or even my mouth, rather than from my chest. I read on and on and made little adjustments here or there. As I read more, I tried to forget that the voice reading was mine and as I listened to myself speak, I felt the same disconcerting feeling that I had felt when listening to myself sing as a woman. I wasn't sure what Jools or Beth would think, but to my ears, the voice speaking was a woman.

I stopped reading and looked up at them. They both were staring at me trance-like. They looked at each other and then looked back at me. "Wow," Beth murmured.

"Wow indeed," Jools said with a growing smile. "Cara, you have a lovely voice and I don't just mean your singing voice. And how's about the Welsh accent!"

"Sorry?" I said, still trying to speak in the woman's voice.

She grinned, "You've got your accent back again!"

I thought about it and realised she was right. Since moving up to London 5 years ago, my natural Welsh accent had become dulled to the point that no-one realised I was from Wales anymore. But now, speaking as Cara, the familiar lilt was back in my voice. I smiled, quite happy about this.

"Well, I don't know how it happened, but I guess it's a bonus," I replied. Yes, the lilt was there.

Jools smiled at me, "That voice, from that face on that body..." she shook her head and left her statement unfinished. I felt my cheeks flush, but I couldn't help myself from smiling. I couldn't help myself from yawning shortly after that too and I noticed Jools and Beth both catching the contagious yawn.

"Let's give you a quick tour, and then we can show you to your room," Jools said standing up from her chair, "You must be tired, I know I am."

I smiled and nodded, "It's been quite a day."

They showed me around the house. It was quite something. I loved the library with its wall to wall shelves and books on anything under the sun. Apparently their Dad was an avid reader. The formal drawing room was lavishly furnished, and I was almost afraid to touch anything for fear of tarnishing it. The dining room was a spacious room which had windows on three sides and a long shiny oblong table in the middle of it. But it was the room at the end of the hall that I really warmed to. I think Jools purposefully kept it to last. She smiled as she opened the door.

She turned on the light and I entered a largish room with a lacquered wooden floor. Along one wall was one big mirror with a wooden rail at waist height. I noted my music equipment was stashed against the opposite wall. But it was the far end of the room that caught my attention. There was a massive bay window and in front of it was a polished black baby grand piano. My eyes lit up and I turned to Jools with a goofy grin. "Wow, err can I?"

She grinned and gave a mock-frown, "Oh now, I don't know..." She laughed unable to keep a straight face, "Oh go on, of course you can."

I sat down on the stool and reverently and cautiously lifted the lid. I paused and then began to play. I wasn't sure what I was playing. It didn't really matter. The lush tones of the piano combined with the delightful acoustics of the room brought a dreamy smile to my face. After a few minutes I stopped and turned round.

Before I could say anything, Beth winked at Jools, "OK, she can certainly play, but can she sing?"

I grinned and turned back to the piano, rising to the challenge. I mentally prepared myself and gave them 'Show me Heaven'." I gave it everything and lost myself in the moment before slowly bringing myself back to earth as the song finished. I turned round and nimbly got to my feet. I think it must have been the adrenaline from playing that made me do what I did next. I haughtily tossed my head and smiled at Beth with a little wink saying, "Oh the girl can most certainly sing."

Both she and Jools burst out laughing. Between giggles Beth tried to speak, "With your voice and that attitude, I can see why you and Jools are going to such lengths." I couldn't help from joining in the laughter too.

"This is a great room," I enthused. "What's the mirror for?"

Jools and Beth looked at each other and rather sheepishly Beth explained, "Well, when we were young girls, we were both sort of keen on ballet."

I laughed as I pictured them pirouetting or such like, "No kidding."

"Oh don't you laugh," Jools warned, "This room has other uses too. Like very good for aerobics."

I grimaced, "Sounds like hard work."

She smiled, "It is and it will be. Us girls have to keep toned and stay in shape."

"What's the view like?" I mused aloud.

Beth replied nonchalantly, "Oh you know, nothing special. Cliff, beach below, crashing waves and the like."

Jools interjected, "Think you could write some more songs in this room?"

I nodded, "Oh most definitely, I think I could spend a lot of time in here."

----------*----------

The girls gave me the upstairs tour. The house must have had about six bedrooms! They showed me to one of the guest bedrooms. I think it was the largest bedroom I had ever stayed in with a large queen size double bed to boot. And it had its own ensuite shower room too. Beth said her good night and I thanked her sincerely for her help earlier in the day. Jools hung back and asked if I wanted any help removing my makeup. I gratefully accepted and she patiently teacher-like talked me through each step getting me to do it myself. Then she told me to give my hair a good brushing and rather mother-like left me in no doubt that I should give it the old standard hundred brushes morning and night. I slipped off my necklace, bracelet and rings.

"Err Jools," I pondered, "What do I wear, you know, to bed?"

She smiled and walked over to my bed. She lifted my pillow and grinning, lifted a sleeveless black silk nightdress. "How's this?"

I chuckled, "I guess it's grand. What about the corset?"

Jools thought, "Well, I think it would be useful to keep it on but maybe loosen it a lot. I think it'll be good for developing your figure. Do you want a hand?"

I smiled, "Do you mind?"

She helped me out of my dress and showed me how to remove my stockings without getting a run in them. She helped me loosen the corset and I revelled in the relative freedom of that. I slipped on the nightdress.

"How does it feel?" Jools asked curiously.

I felt a little embarrassed as I replied, "Erm, well it feels really nice to be honest." It did. It was soft and silky. It wasn't restricting, it was airy.

She grinned, "I thought you'd like it."

I caught a glimpse of myself in the dressing table mirror and paused. No make up at all. Yet still it was a woman looking back at me. Was it just the hair? The earrings? The figure or the nightdress? Or a combination of all of the above? I wasn't sure. Jools asked me what was wrong and I explained what I was thinking. She smiled and asked me if it really mattered what explained it. I guess it didn't and told her so. She said goodnight and was heading for the door when she paused as if wanting to say something more.

"What is it Jools?" I asked as I sat on the edge of my bed.

She hesitated, but slowly made her way back to my bed and sat down beside me. She sat in silence looking thoughtful for a moment before looking sideways at me. "No half measures, isn't that what you said?" she asked softly.

I smiled back at her, "Well, if I'm going to do it, I think that's the right approach don't you?"

She nodded, "Absolutely. It's just that there was something else I was going to suggest, but didn't know whether or not to bring it up."

I paused. I had no idea what she was going to suggest but my curiosity was piqued. "Well Jools, tell me what it is. I can't give an opinion if you don't let me know."

She nodded again, "Alright. Now I didn't tell this person any specifics so don't get all worried about another person knowing. But there's this doctor I know. Well she's an old family friend and I went to see her a year or two back when I had some...problems. I was mentioning to her that I had a friend who wanted to become a woman."

I interrupted, "Well wanted is not exactly how I would have put it..."

She held up a hand, "I know, I know. But I didn't want to go into specifics. Anyways I was just inquiring out of interest with her if there was anything she could suggest that would help." She paused to let her words sink in.

I think I got the drift. "Hormones?" I said a little shakily.

She nodded and smiled sympathetically, "Yes. Now I know it's a big thing, but let me lay it out and you can either think about it or never mention it again. Either way, it's totally fine with me."

I swallowed hard to keep my stomach from ascending into my throat, "Alright, I'm listening."

"Well, she said that you, or rather, my friend, could take what is essentially a souped up strength version of what is like a female contraceptive pill. It contains a mixture of oestrogens and progestagens to mimic the female hormonal balance. I asked her what sort of effects they would have if taken for about 4 weeks. Apparently there wouldn't be much effect in that time. Hair would be softer, skin would be too. Perhaps slight change in body fat distribution but nothing too noticeable. With me so far?"

I nodded, "There's more?"

She smiled and nodded, "Well then she said that if 'my friend' wanted to accelerate things somewhat, a starter booster dose could be used. Basically an injection of high dose oestrogen to kick start things. That combined with 4 weeks of the daily pills would have a bit more effect." She paused for a moment before continuing, "Basically after that time with the head start, there would be quite noticeable redistribution of body fat. Narrower waist, fuller hips. And well, the beginnings of some natural breast development." Jools held up a hand, "Now she was quite clear, that either way with starter dose or not, after 4 weeks, none of the changes would be irreversible in any way." She stopped and looked at me.

"Wow," I murmured. Then I thought of something, "Jools. Just by chance, would you happen to have in your possession here the pills and the starter injection?"

From the guilty look on her face I knew the answer before she spoke. "Yes Cara," she confessed, "Look I only thought I'd get them from her just in case. I want you to believe me on that. To be honest, I had almost decided not to mention them at all, but I figured it was only fair to give you the options."

I nodded, "It's alright. I'm not angry." I wasn't, I was just a little overwhelmed. I thought for a few moments as I tried to get my brain around it. It was scary on the one hand. But on the other hand, as Jools had said, nothing would be irreversible.

I started to think out loud, "Jools, if we make a go of this, I mean say we get a deal and things turn out successful. Well as we said before, that sort of means I'm going to be a woman from now on. In that case, it would be the sensible thing to take some hormones then wouldn't it?"

She nodded, "It does seem logical."

I continued, "Alright, and if as you say the changes aren't irreversible after 4 weeks..." My voice trailed and I wrinkled my brow as I tried to take it on board.

I shook my head, "Jools I can't get my head around all of this and it seems scary, but thinking simply about it. If things work out, I probably will need to take hormones. Starting now probably makes sense. If things don't work out, well then I stop and there's no long lasting effects."

I looked over at her and exhaled slowly.

"What are you saying?" she prompted gently.

"I guess I'm saying that I'm pretty well petrified, but on balance, why don't we go for it. I can stop anytime. I mean we have to give this everything or else it's a pathetic waste of time and money and me being scared shouldn't affect that."

She smiled, "Are you sure? Want to sleep on it?"

I shook my head, "No Jools, I don't want to sleep on it. Let's do it. Sleeping on it won't change the reasons for doing it."

"Are you sure?" she asked again.

I half-chuckled, "Well no, I'm not sure, but I'm saying yes let's do it, so go get your hormone gun before I change my mind."

She grinned and said she'd be back in a moment. Within a minute she slipped back into my room with a syringe.

"Do you know what to do with that?" I asked tentatively.

She smiled, "My friend talked me through it and said I couldn't go wrong."

"Famous last words," I muttered.

She told me to roll over onto my stomach and I did so. She lifted the hem of my nightdress and pulled my panties to one side. "Hold still," she murmured. I felt a stinging jab on my right buttock and then an intense pain as she injected the contents of the syringe.

"Ouch," I murmured into the bed.

She vigorously rubbed the injection site and then pulled my nightdress down. I sat up and smiled at her, "I don't feel any different yet."

She laughed, "I don't think it works that quickly."

"Oh wait," I said raising a hand to my brow and frowning. Seeing she was looking at me with concern, I quipped, "It must have worked, I think I've forgotten how to park a car. Darn, I'm a woman."

She sighed, "You!!" and gave me a playful slap. She placed a strip of pills on my bedside table. I noticed that 3/4 of them were red and 1/4 were yellow. "You take one a day, starting with the red ones," she explained. "I'll leave them here; it's totally up to you to take them. I'll not be forcing them into you."

She looked at me thoughtfully, "You know Cara, you really are something else. I'm amazed at how well you are taking this. You're so determined."

I laughed, "Oh, I don't think the half of it has sunk in yet. I'm sure there will be tears at some stage. But we've got to go for it; well I know I have to."

She gave me a tender hug and then a gentle peck on the lips, "Night Cara. Sleep well. Want me to give you a wake up call in the morning?"

"Sure thing. And thanks Jools...for everything."

She grinned and waved closing the door behind her. I slipped under the covers of the bed and lay down. My head was swimming as I thought back over the day. Thankfully I was so tired that I didn't have long to mull over things before I drifted off to sleep.

----------*----------

CHAPTER 4

I woke of my own accord and discerned the faint beginnings of daylight on the other side of the curtains. I felt quite disoriented at first. Probably due to the long hair half over my face which I soon realised was my own. And due also to the fact that when I rolled over the pulling sensation on the front of my chest reminded me that I had breasts.

I propped my head up on an elbow and got my bearings. I checked the digital clock beside my bed. Just before 8 a.m. This early morning wakening by yourself lark was getting to be a habit. Whether it was a bad one or not I reserved judgement on just yet. As the memories of the previous day flooded my consciousness I realised I was now quite definitely awake. It was a strange sensation. Almost an anticipation of my first full day as a girl.

I sat on the edge of the bed and decided I may as well go on and get ready for the day. I went into the bathroom and lifted the toilet seat. As I pulled up my nightdress, I realised the incongruity of what I was about to do and couldn't bring myself to do it. I set the seat down again and sat down instead. It just felt more appropriate and I figured I had better get into the habit of it. I chuckled to myself as I imagined the looks I would get if I walked into the gents looking like I did now and hitched up my skirts before the urinals.

When done, I slipped off my nightdress. Taking off the silky material filled me with a sensation somewhat akin to regret, but I shrugged figuring that there would be plenty more nights to enjoy the feeling of it.

I managed to unhitch my corset and dropped it to the floor. I added my panties to the pile on the floor. I looked in the mirror and felt quite strange. Almost disappointment. The perfect illusion of femininity was not as perfect now. In a weird kind of way this moment reinforced to me the correctness of my decision last night regarding the hormones. With that thought in mind I walked straight back into my bedroom and pushed out the first pill from the strip beside my bed. I popped it in and swallowed it.

I could hardly believe the path I was now on but I was never one for beating about the bush when doing something. I wasn't quite sure if I was crazy or not, but in my way of thinking, if you're going to be crazy, may as well go all out and be a raving lunatic.

Going back into the bathroom, I turned on the shower and as the water was heating up, I looked about for something to keep my hair from getting wet. I figured it didn't need to be washed as it was only washed and set yesterday. I found a shower cap and managed to bunch my hair up under it.

Slipping under the steaming jets of water was a great feeling. I soaped my body. My smooth body. It was a strange sensation soaping my breasts. I knew they weren't really mine and they obviously had no sensation in them, but under my hands they felt real.

My skin felt more sensitive to the touch. I didn't know if it was the total hairlessness, the hormones, or my imagination. I figured it was probably mostly the latter option. Stepping out of the shower I wrapped the towel around my waist, but as I caught my reflection in the mirror, I chuckled to myself realising that wouldn't do. I pulled the towel up and wrapped it around my upper body and noted the improvement in decency in my reflection.

After towelling off, I noticed a tube of scented body moisturiser beside the bath. I figured I should use it so I rubbed in liberal amounts all over my body. The fragrance was subtle and sort of floral. After using the scented body spray which I also found on the bath side, I removed the shower cap and shook my hair loose. The feeling of my long hair on my bare back was another new but strangely nice sensation.

Picking up my corset and returning to the bedroom I wondered what I should wear. The same as yesterday? Or was there another option? I spotted a neatly folded pile of clothes on a chair at the far side of the room. On further inspection there was a clean pair of panties, a black top, blue denim skirt and black ribbed pantyhose. There was a pair of black boots with a reasonable sized heel under the chair. I guessed these were all for me.

After fitting myself into my gaff and sliding on the panties, I began to tackle the corset. After a bit of effort I managed to hitch it together around my torso. I began to lace myself into it. Although I was tempted to go easy on myself, I figured it would be self-defeating. So I gave it a bit of elbow grease until I felt my waist significantly constricted. I pulled the rib-knit black top over my head and noted that it clung to my figure quite nicely. After pulling on the pantyhose, I stepped into the denim skirt and zipped it up. It was quite short, just below mid-thigh. The boots were quite awkward to get into, but I worked my feet into them and zipped up the sides. They came to mid calf. I quite liked them I decided.

I checked out my appearance in the wardrobe mirror and shook my head. Even without make up, I looked too good. The girls had good fashion sense too as demonstrated by the outfit they had left for me.

I sat down at the dressing table and pondered what to do as I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. Well, I reckoned I had better give the make-up thing a go. I was going to have to learn sooner or later and I reckoned learning by mistakes would be a part of it. I remembered as best I could what Beth and previously Jools had done to me. There was a full set of cosmetics on the dressing table in front of me. I took a sponge and dabbed on a light coating of foundation, blending it in as well as I could. Then a light coat of powder. After that, things seemed a little harder. I decided that less is best, certainly for this attempt. I brushed a light coat of dusky brown eye shadow onto my lids and applied one coat of mascara. Having managed that without making a total mess of myself, I felt quite proud. I brushed on a smidgeon of rouge and then contemplated the lipsticks in front of me. I selected a shade that looked similar to the one that Beth had used yesterday. A deep reddish-brown. This was where it could all go wrong I figured. Taking a deep breath, I pursed my lips and gave it my best shot. I didn't go overboard and that was probably why I got away with it. I blotted my lips and then inspected my handiwork in the mirror. I smiled. Not too bad I thought to myself. I really did feel quite proud and being honest, I had to admit that I had quite enjoyed doing my makeup myself. I sighed at my appearance. It was definitely Cara Malone looking back at me. I looked hard to see if I could spot Nick Evans, but I didn't think I could make him out.

I grabbed the hairbrush and began the vigorous brushing of my hair that I had been instructed to carry out. I was almost at the hundred when there was a gentle tapping at the door. I cleared my throat and remembering to speak in 'Cara's' voice said, "Come in."

Jools stuck her head round the door. "Oh you're up," she said sounding surprised. "Oh and you're dressed too," she added as she came in.

I smiled at her, "Well, I thought I'd just get on with it."

"And your makeup!" she exclaimed. "Did you do that yourself?" she asked with a little incredulity in her voice.

I grinned, "Sure I did. Is it that bad and obvious?"

"Not at all," she said sounding impressed, "Not at all bad indeed." She stood back and looked me over, "Damn girl, you look good."

I felt myself blush and looked down, but looked back up and said the only thing I could say, but also the thing I felt inside too, "Thanks Jools."

"Well since you're up and dressed and all, ready for breakfast?"

I nodded, "Sure thing," and gave my hair a last few brushes getting it into the shape I wanted. I got up and then almost as an afterthought, grabbed the perfume on the dressing table and gave a few spritzes to each side of my neck. I stood up and noticed Jools grinning at me.

"Like the boots?" she asked with a smile.

I laughed and blushed again, "Yes actually I really do."

She laughed with me, "Come on girl, let's go get some brekkie."

----------*----------

Beth was already in the kitchen getting things ready. She seemed quite surprised to see us.

"Oh, that was amazingly fast Jools," she said.

"Wasn't it?" Jools replied, "But actually, when I got there, Cara was already dressed and ready, make up and all."

That got Beth's interest, "Really?" she said, wiping her hands on a towel and walking over to me. She nodded and grinned, "Not bad at all girl. You're going to be a quick learner. I think you are a natural."

I half-laughed, half-snorted but murmured, "Thanks."

"What do you think of the outfit? I picked it myself," Beth asked.

I smiled, "I like it thanks."

"Seriously?" she asked raising an eyebrow, "I mean I know why you are doing all this, but do you really like the clothes?"

I shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable. I pondered and thought about it. I started hesitantly, "Well, I hadn't really thought about it in too much detail. I know why I am doing this, but I guess I have to admit that there are certain parts that I don't mind too much. Other bits totally freak me out. But yes, I like the outfit." I paused and in a quiet voice added as an afterthought, "I think the clothes make me look nice."

Beth smiled kindly and gave me a little hug, "I think they do too. It's totally OK to like them. Hell girl, you're going through a heck of a lot, I think you've every right to enjoy yourself as much as you can."

I blinked a few times and gave a hesitant smile, "Erm, thanks Beth." I tried to change the subject as I was feeling really quite uncomfortable now, "Did somebody say something about breakfast?"

Beth and Jools both laughed and I joined in with them.

"OK, let's eat," Beth said.

I sat down at the table and she poured me a bowl of what looked like muesli, she poured the same for Jools. She then added some dried fruit on top. I stared at the bowl and then looked at Jools. She had a similar expression to mine. I think it was disdain. I let Jools speak.

"Uhh, Beth, what's this?"

"It's muesli with dried apricots," Beth replied.

"Hmm, not really my usual sort of thing," Jools replied as Beth poured us all a glass of fresh orange juice.

"Well," Beth began a little defensively, "you said that you wanted my help for you and Cara to be as healthy and fit as possible. It starts here. Give it a chance; you never know you might get to like it."

"Hmph, I doubt it," Jools said a little sulkily.

I poured some milk onto mine and tried a spoonful. Pretty dry and tasteless. Harmless though. I grinned at Jools who was trying hers. We both struggled our way through it. I wasn't used to any breakfast as I usually didn't rise 'til mid morning. Jools was more of a croissants and pastries person from what I knew of her.

When we finished, Beth smiled at us and offered us some wholemeal bread toasted. Whilst it wasn't that appetising to either of us, we accepted it given the lack of other options. When I asked Beth about the chances of a cup of coffee she said that we could have some herbal tea. Too much coffee being a bad thing and not a great way to start the day and all that. I saw Jools roll her eyes and I smirked knowing how much she lived on coffee.

After we finished, Beth said, "Now since it's Sunday, I'll give you both the morning off, but the exercise program starts tomorrow without fail."

Jools just groaned, but I asked, "Exercise program?"

She nodded, "Yes, get you fit and toned. We'll alternate between morning jogs and indoor aerobics." She grinned mischievously, "It will help you to work up an appetite for your muesli."

Both Jools and I groaned. I wasn't used to regular exercise at all and had a fair idea it was going to be painful. But I had already had a lot of new experiences so far, this would just be another one to add to my growing collection. After we had cleared up the breakfast dishes, I asked what was on the agenda for the day.

"Well," Jools started, "Beth and I are going to Church. You are welcome to come along if you want, but we'll understand if you don't."

"Church?" I said raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Beth explained, "when we are at home, Mum and Dad like us to go to Church each Sunday. They like the family to be part of the local parish so we go to the Anglican Church in Seaton when we are home."

I thought for a moment, "But your Mum and Dad are away so they won't know either way?"

They both looked at each other and grinned. Jools shrugged, "Yeah, but Mabel would dob us in if we defaulted. Besides, it's sort of become a habit. It's been a while since I've been. I guess it's good for us."

"Like muesli and exercise?" I asked teasingly.

She stuck her tongue out at me before asking, "So what about you?"

I shifted a little awkwardly. I hadn't been to Church for some time. My parents were strict Welsh Methodists and when I was young, Church was very much part of our lives. Since I had moved away, it hadn't seemed that relevant. But to think of going to Church as a woman? It seemed a little hypocritical to me. "Umm, thanks but I think I'd need to get more confidence up first Jools before I could face going to Church as Cara."

She smiled, "No problem, I understand. Will you be OK here without us?"

I laughed, "I think I'll survive. I'll maybe tinkle a few ivories on that rather nice piano I spotted last night. See if I get some inspiration."

The sisters got themselves ready and left dressed very nicely and conservatively in typical Sunday best dresses and I made my way to the music room. That's what I called it in my mind. The view was spectacular. The big bay window looked out over the Devon coast. A cliff reared up just along the coast from Silsbury Manor and I could see gulls circling and landing all the time. The waves down below were crashing onto the sand. It was a dry clear day and the sun was trying hard to penetrate a thin layer of cloud. As I sat down at the stool I just drank in the view for several minutes before coming to my senses again. I began to play. To play anything and everything that came to mind.

----------*----------

Inspiration was flowing. I had hit upon a catchy melody. I was hamming it up on the piano, but it was made for the guitar. It was on the guitar I was hearing it in my head, but I always found it easier in general to write the full song on the piano first. It was a rocky number and it had ironically arisen from the theme of yesterday's goings on and conversations. 'No Half Measures' I was titling it. I had been humming around a melody as I played and some words were floating around in my head too.

"Yesterday's hopes are today's shattered dreams,
Tomorrow only brings more,
Are you going to let the world poke fun at your schemes,
And trample them into the floor?

It's gonna take no half measures,
Pushing beyond the limit,
No half measures,
Gonna take heart, soul and spirit,
For when you feel it's over and there's no point going on,
Is when you realise what is chaff and what're your treasures,
But if there's half a chance of making it, join me in this song,
Let's kick down the ever-closing doors -- no half measures!"

I added a few more verses, a melancholic bridge and finished with two rousing choruses, shifting the last one up a key and stretching the limits of my 'new' voice before bringing it to a sultry soft close as I repeated the last line, "So c'mon push open every door -- no half measures!" I stopped and took a breath and then I heard someone clapping from behind me.

I turned sharply thinking that it was a bit early for the girls to be back. Instead I saw a portly lady smiling from the door. I reckoned it was Mabel. She smiled at me and stopped clapping. "You've got the gift m'dear," she stated matter-of-factly in a broad Devon accent.

I smiled shyly, "Erm thanks."

She nodded and walked over. She wiped her hands on the apron she was wearing. "Mabel Finniston. You must be Miss Cara."

I smiled. It was strange to be addressed so formally, but it seemed appropriate from Mabel. "Yes, nice to meet you Mrs. Finniston."

She chuckled and flapped her hands at me, "Mabel m'dear, Mabel it is."

I stood up a little awkwardly as she approached, not quite knowing whether to reach out to shake her hand or what. She stuck out a friendly hand though and resolved my dilemma. I shook her hand and my hand seemed slim and dainty in her large grasp. She looked me over appraisingly.

"You're quite the looker too Miss Cara. And quite a big girl too I see," she was looking at my breasts. She didn't seem bothered, but I felt extremely embarrassed. I didn't know what to say, but she continued on.

"I hear you're down 'ere to write some songs. Hoping to get a record deal with Miss Julie's 'elp." She looked me up and down and frowned a little, "Although I can't says I approves of the length of your skirt m'dear. A little short don't you think? And for a Sunday?"

I fought the almost irrepressible urge to ask her exactly how long a skirt should be to be appropriate for Sundays. In fact I wasn't sure exactly what to say and looking back wished I'd kept my mouth shut, "Erm well I don't have many...long skirts." I had been about to say I didn't have many skirts but reckoned that would sound a bit fishy. However I fear I just ended up convincing Mabel I was some sort of tart.

"Ah well," she tutted, "I guess if you're going to be the music star, I imagine you'll be wearing even less at times than you are now."

I blushed and smiled, dropping my gaze a little as I didn't know how to respond. She chuckled, "Oh come now child, that pouty smile might work on th'on young lads around 'ere, but it'll cut no ice with me. I've known too much of the like from Miss Julie and Miss Elizabeth over the years. Now you go back to your playing and singing, I like to listen to you and I'll have the Sunday dinner ready before long."

I did as instructed and added the finishing touches to my new song. I was well pleased with it. I didn't have the half-doubts or reticence that I sometimes did when finishing a new song. I knew this one rocked and I was proud of it. I sang it through from start to finish and gave it the full treatment. I heard whispers behind me and turned to see Jools and Beth peering in the door.

"Wow," Beth said. "Who sings that? I've never heard it before."

I laughed and stood up. I sashayed over to them and fluttered my eyelids, "Cara Malone sings that."

They both giggled for a moment. Jools spoke, "You mean to say you wrote that just this morning?" She seemed a little incredulous.

I nodded and buffed my nails, "Yes."

She gave a low whistle, "If you can write songs like that as quickly as that, you'll have more than enough material at the end of your time here."

I smiled wistfully, "It doesn't always come as easily Jools." I shrugged, "I was lucky this morning. I was in the groove or whatever. It doesn't often happen, but when it does....," I paused and grinned, "It's pretty damn good, isn't it?"

Beth laughed and turns to Jools, "She's not only talented, beautiful and sexy, but she's modest too."

Jools winked, "Oh we don't want her being modest and I doubt anyone looking like her is really modest."

I caught a glimpse of myself in the wall mirror. I was going to register the almost automatic protest against what they were saying, but as I saw my reflection: my full, feminine figure and my long, shapely legs, my long full-bodied hair and my attractively made up face, well I couldn't deny what they were saying.

What was more disconcerting than the fact of it all was my response to it. As I looked at myself, I felt myself getting aroused. I looked like a sexy woman and I feared I was beginning to like it.

I tried to get my mind back on track by telling them about my encounter with Mabel. I told them about my comment about not having any long skirts and they both laughed. Jools told me that now I had a reputation to live up to and when we went shopping tomorrow for more outfits for me, she knew to get the short tarty stuff for me. I protested, but not too much.

Sunday lunch passed without too much incident. I met Sam Finniston, a wiry silver-haired thin man with a dry sense of humour. Mabel had scolded him for apparently eyeing me up too much. My embarrassed reaction had amused them all no end.

After lunch Jools, Beth and I had taken a long, leisurely walk around their parents' estate. It was large and the cliff walk was breathtaking. We spent the evening all curled up together on a sofa in the family room before a roaring log fire watching a DVD together. Beth advised us to turn in early as she would be giving us an early wake up call for morning exercise. With groans of anticipation, we heeded her advice.

I managed to get myself undressed, my corset loosened and my makeup removed without assistance. I smiled as I slid my silky nightdress on and again revelled in the lovely sensations. As I lay down in bed, I pondered my first full day as a woman. I had mixed feelings. Contradictory feelings. I had to admit to enjoying the way I looked, yet feeling uncomfortable at times too. I had to admit to being excited about the songs that I as Cara was writing and singing. Yet at the moment, down here in Devon, we seemed to be far away from the real world and the thought of having to sing and perform as Cara was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

----------*----------

True to her word, Beth woke me just before 8 a.m. and with a bright and far too cheery 'Good Morning' threw back my curtains. Not that too much light streamed in as the beginnings of dawn were just beginning to become evident. I groaned as I sat on the edge of the bed rubbing my sleep-filled eyes.

"C'mon sleepyhead it's a fresh clear morning, get dressed and let's go!" she said enthusiastically.

"What will I wear?" I murmured with a yawn.

She set down some items on my bed. "I've got what you need. Take off your corset and slip on this sports bra. I've got a track suit top and jogging pants for you. And some running shoes which should hopefully fit. I'll see you downstairs in 2 minutes." She grinned, "No being a lady and taking half an hour to get ready. Don't bother with make up or anything."

I slipped off my nightdress and corset. I had a bit of difficulty with the bra, but eventually managed to get it on correctly. The jogging pants and track top were a lilac colour and fit me snugly. The shoes were white with pink trim and were a good fit also. I found a scrunchie on my dressing table and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I was a bit worried about how I would look heading out without my corset, make up or without doing something with my hair. I checked myself over in the mirror. It was worryingly reassuring. No make up, hair in a simple ponytail and a tracksuit. Yet I looked for all the world like an attractive woman in sports gear.

Beth, myself and a sleepy and somewhat grumpy Jools headed out of the house into the cold crisp morning. The sun was just beginning to come up and the sky was clear and blue. Beth said we would just go for a light jog this morning. She headed off and Jools and I followed. She led us over one of the meadows towards the coast and then down one of the paths that led to the beach. The tide was half in and we ran along the sandy beach in the near perfect stillness which was only disturbed by the sounds of our breathing and a few cries from circling gulls overhead. As the sun rose further, its faint rays began to glint on the breaking, rippling waves and were also reflected off the cliff face on the other side. Although I felt like my lungs were beginning to burn, it was almost compensated for by the beauty of the situation. I was not in good shape, but thankfully I was not the first one to protest.

"God Beth, can we not turn back, I'm going to pop my clogs if we go any further," Jools complained.

Beth laughed. She was breathing more heavily now than before, but still seemed comfortable. She was obviously far fitter than Jools or me. "Alright," she relented and turned, "but no slacking off on the pace. Push yourself; it's the only way to get fit."

That was all very well, but coming up the path from the beach, both Jools and I could barely maintain a slow jog. It was a relief to be back on the flat meadow and the sight of the house getting ever nearer was the only thing that kept me going. When we arrived back on the doorstep, Beth was stretching and limbering down. "That was exhilarating wasn't it?" she enthused.

If I had any breath left in my body to spare from the seemingly impossible task of keeping my body alive, I might have actually agreed. But Jools and I were both half-collapsed on the doorstep sucking in air greedily as if it was going out of fashion. After what seemed like an age, but was probably only a matter of minutes, my lungs decided to stop trying to break out of my chest. Jools looked a little less unhappy too. We went inside and despite a vain hope of a more substantial breakfast, it was muesli and wholemeal toast with tea again. Though it was amazing how much better it tasted this morning.

I enjoyed revelling in the hot jets of my shower after breakfast and after moisturising, sat down to dry my hair. I blow-dried it as best as I could and attempted to style it the way Beth had done the other day. The outcome was not too displeasing. Not seeing any other options, I dressed in the same outfit as the previous day and began to do my make up. I kept it simple again reckoning that I could manage that. Again, I was happy with the job I did. I slipped on my boots and checked the overall look in the mirror. "Lord, I'm beautiful," I murmured to myself, half-pleased and yet half-unbelieving still that it was really me. I found Beth in the family room downstairs.

"Cara, you look great. See a bit of exercise and you look radiant."

I laughed, "You look pretty good yourself." She did. Beth was petite with perfectly coifed shining auburn hair. She was more feminine, sensual and graceful in her movements and manner than Jools. And whilst both sisters were both physically very attractive, Jools attractiveness I reckoned was probably more in her assertive confidence and the enthusiasm she exuded rather than in her femininity per se.

"Jools says she's going to spend most of the day in the library on the phone, sorting some of her clients out so I thought we'd get to work this morning and then do some shopping after lunch," Beth explained.

"Work?" I said a little unsurely.

She laughed, "Oh yes. You might look like a phenomenally attractive sexy woman, but we need to work on getting you to act, think, speak and move like one all the time. There's more to being a woman than looking pretty you know." She winked.

I smiled, "I guess you're right. OK so what do we have to do then?"

We went to the music room and started with walking. I spent the morning walking up and down with Beth giving hints and tips here and there. She got me to move my hips more. She encouraged me to totally over exaggerate it whilst we were practising so that from now on when I was walking I wouldn't have to think about it. I felt a little silly swinging my hips so much and taking these little narrow steps, but when I looked at my reflection in the wall mirror, I had to admit that it was very sensual to watch.

"But Beth, I mean swinging my hips so much, I mean isn't it a little provocative looking?"

She laughed, "Well Cara dear, yes it is. And to be honest, most women don't walk quite like that, but let's face it, in your chosen profession, sexiness sells."

I didn't know what to say, but felt myself flush a little again. Then she got me to slip off my boots and brought me a pair of high-heeled shoes. A 4 inch heel I think she said. When I first slipped them on, I felt very unsteady and gingerly took some steps. She encouraged me to keep going until I got more confidence. Eventually I felt a little more balanced and steady, but it wasn't long before the shoes actually started to hurt.

She relented and said we'd practise more over the next few weeks. It seemed that Beth planned to spend each morning working with me on my femininity: walking, moving, gestures, speech, mannerisms, fashion, make up and anything else I would need to know. She next got me working on sitting and standing. The first time I sat down on a chair in the lounge, she pointed out my skirt which was riding up my thighs in a very revealing manner. She taught me how to smooth down my skirt when sitting and standing and made me do it again and again and again. When I protested mildly she reminded me that all these mannerisms had to be totally subconscious and natural if I was going to succeed. She was right.

The time had flown and before we knew it, it was lunchtime. After grabbing a quick, small sandwich with Jools, Beth and I headed out shopping whilst Jools went back to her list of phone calls. Before we left, she handed me the black jacket I had worn the other day and a small black purse. I peeped inside and saw some basic cosmetics, tissues and a hairbrush.

----------*----------

Beth drove us into Plymouth and we parked outside a medium sized shopping mall. I felt quite self-conscious as I got out of the car, but remembered to keep my legs together. Beth must have sensed my reticence.

"Relax Cara," she whispered to me as we walked across the car park, "you look great, trust me all anyone is going to see is a pretty woman."

I grinned and winked back at her, "Two pretty women you mean." I took some satisfaction from the growing blush on her cheeks at my comment. She laughed.

As we walked down the main thoroughfare of the mall, I concentrated on walking the way Beth had taught me that morning, my head held up high and a half smile on my face. It wasn't long before I noticed the looks I was getting from some of the men I passed. I recognised the look: it was appraisal and appreciation. I felt my heart racing inside of me. It felt too weird to have men looking at me and barely concealing the desire in their glances. But what was more surprising was some of the looks that the women gave me. Somewhat disdainful and quite unpleasant. I began to fear that perhaps some of the women could see through me. I mentioned this to Beth and she sniggered.

"Oh it's not that they see through you," she half whispered, "let me explain. Quite a few women have difficulties with an exceptionally attractive woman. Particularly one that is more attractive than they are. That's why they are looking at you like that, they are comparing themselves to you and coming off worse." She shrugged, "It doesn't bother me, don't worry I won't look at you like that."

I gave a little snort, "You definitely won't, you're far prettier than I am Beth."

She put a hand on my arm and inclined her head, "Now come on Cara. Time for a reality pill. Let's cut the crap now. I'm flattered that you think I am pretty, but face it, you are stunningly gorgeous. That is why you are going to be a big success. Oh yes, you are musically gifted and have a wonderful voice. But combine that with how sexy and beautiful you look? It's a winning combination and few have it."

I swallowed and felt uncomfortable. I wrinkled my brow a little, "But Beth, it doesn't seem right. I mean me being...," I forced myself to say it, "me being beautiful, you know with me being really..." I left the rest unsaid knowing she knew what I meant.

She shrugged, "Who cares? The reality in this situation is how you look now. I don't know, perhaps this was always meant to be." She smiled at me, "Just relax and actually enjoy it, I mean the numbers of cute guys who have been checking you out while you've been obsessing -- hell I'm jealous." She winked.

I smiled and sighed, "Alright. I guess you are right."

She nodded, "I know I am. Now what do you want to get first?"

I raised my eyebrows and after a momentary pause said, "Beth, I really have no idea what all I need to get. You're going to have to help me out big time here."

She smiled and gave her hands a little clap together, "Just what I was wanting to hear. OK shall we start with lingerie?"

I winced, "Do we have to?"

She giggled, "Yes come on, let's get the most embarrassing part over and then you can enjoy yourself."

We went into Pretty Woman, a shop I can safely say I had never been in ever before in my life. I was worried that someone was going to hit an alarm button and shout that there was some sort of pervert man in the shop, but of course that didn't happen.

The assistant who served us gave no indication that she thought I was anything other than how l looked. She measured my bra size for me and I did find it a little embarrassing. Apparently I was a 36D. I did feel a little self conscious and almost cursed Jools and Beth for giving me such large breasts but I had to admit to myself that I was becoming quite partial to them. I tried to rationalise it: most guys like large breasts. Yes, but not on themselves, an annoying little voice said inside my head. I ignored it.

We gathered a collection of different styles and colours of bras, stockings, pantyhose, nightdresses and panties. I was extremely glad for Beth's help as I wouldn't have had a clue. But she educated me at every step as to the different choices and reasons for choosing them.

When it came to paying, I realised that I had no money or anything in my purse that I could pay with. Beth caught on to what I was thinking, "Don't worry," she murmured, "We can sort it out later, it's all taken care of for now." She handed over her credit card. I made a mental note that I must make sure I sorted both her and Jools out for the expense they had already gone to.

We then headed to a modern boutique across the mall. I browsed through the racks of clothes with Beth. It was really quite amazing the variety and different styles of clothing that women could choose from. In a sense it was quite simple for men: shirts and slacks. Not much variation really. But this was different, each rack brought a new style, texture, colour, length. Perhaps this was why women found shopping more interesting than men.

I had to admit that I was fascinated to a degree, and somewhat overwhelmed. I was glad Beth was with me as she interjected little hints and tips when I was looking at various items. "Too frumpy." "Too old for you." "Too young for you." "Too tarty" I tried to see if I could spot the patterns that identified these flaws but I wasn't too sure that I could. We did pick out a number of items: tops, blouses and skirts.

As we took them towards the changing room I had a sudden rise of panic. It felt wrong to be heading into the ladies' changing rooms. But as we were about to go in, I saw myself in the long mirror outside and felt reassured by my appearance. Beth came in with me to help me. I tried on everything and it must have taken about 20 minutes at least. Must be why women take longer at shopping I mused to myself. Most of the tops were quite tight fitting and most of the skirts were on the shorter side.

I mentioned this to Beth and she grinned at me, "Well Cara, we aren't dressing you for you to be a nun, or a business executive. The way we figure it you should get used to flattering clothing that will suit your image. Not cheap or hooker-like, but certainly sensual and attractive."

As I checked out the latest outfit on myself I think I could see what she meant. It was a black knit polo neck with a short black and white checked skirt. It was flattering and sensual. I felt myself getting turned on and felt mortified although I was sure Beth wasn't aware of anything. She did smile at me though.

"You like it, don't you?" she asked softly.

I laughed, "Is it that obvious?" Hoping that it wasn't obvious in the way that I was feeling lower down.

She nodded, "You don't have to be ashamed of liking and wanting to look good."

I grinned, "Yes I like it. It feels nice, it looks nice -- what's not to like?"

We left the store with the top and skirt and headed on to the next one. After visiting a few more stores, we were becoming more and more laden down with bags and had collected up about 5 or 6 new outfits including several jackets and coats. I realised that we hadn't bought any pants and remarked on this to Beth.

She giggled, "Well yes, I was wondering when you would notice. It's not that you're never going to wear any pants of course, but Jools and I reckoned you should become completely at ease in skirts and dresses first. I mean you know how to wear pants already."

I nodded and grinned, "Yet again, you have a point. But I haven't bought any dresses?"

"Yet!" Beth added as she wheeled me into another shop. "Now then," she continued, "if the lady wants a new dress, the lady gets a new dress." She giggled and so did I.

We looked through the racks until Beth gave a little squeal.

"Found something?" I asked.

"Oh yes," she said holding up a jersey dress which was mostly black except for a white band around the middle.

I raised an eyebrow, "Why is it white like that in the middle?"

"Come on and try it on and let's see," she said.

We went back to the changing rooms and I tried it on. It was a lycra and wool mix and it clung to my figure. The white band accentuated my narrow waist and contrasted against the black which outlined my breasts above it. It did look very fetching I admitted to myself. I admitted this to Beth also. Needless to say, we bought it.

By this stage, I was getting tired and as comfortable and lovely as my boots were, my feet were getting sore. Beth looked a little tired too. "Are we done?" I asked.

She grinned at me ruefully, "I wish we were, but we still have to do the shoe stores."

I sighed and she continued, "Although we could stop for a quick coffee and sit down?"

I was all for that, so we headed for the food court and I gratefully rested my feet and relished the taste of the bitter coffee. We chatted about this and that -- mainly clothes actually. I didn't know that much about women's clothing yet, but I certainly knew a lot more now than I did before and I was learning all the time.

I noticed a man in a black suit sitting at a table several tables away. He seemed to be looking over at me occasionally and then looking away if I would look up. Beth had her back to him. I leaned forward almost conspiratorially and whispered, "Beth there is a man back there and I think he is checking me out."

She giggled and whispered back, "Really? OK, here's what to do, to see if he is watching you for definite: uncross your legs, stretch and then shift around a little in your seat and then slowly cross your legs again. Watch for his reaction."

"I can't do that," I hissed back at her.

"Course you can, come on, do it!"

I sighed and then sat up straight and stretched catlike, raising my arms up into air and then uncrossed my legs, repositioned myself on my chair and then slowly crossed my legs over again, pulling my skirt down as I had been taught. I sneaked a sideways glance over at the man and saw his eyes fixated on my legs. I almost sniggered and then he caught me looking at him and he smiled at me before looking away embarrassedly. I told Beth about the effect I had on him and she giggled and snuck a glance at him despite my protests.

"Oh he's cute, well dressed, rich," she whispered back animatedly.

I shrugged, "Well I don't know about the cute part, I don't think I can judge that." I wasn't attracted to him, that thought was almost repulsive. But I did feel a certain rush from knowing the effect I had on him.

I looked up and then leaned towards Beth, "Oh my god!" I hissed.

"What is it?"

"He's getting up and coming this way, I think he's coming over, what do I do?" I hissed urgently.

She had no time to reply though as he paused alongside our table. He was looking at me with a sheepish smile on his face. He was wearing a black tailored suit, white shirt with maroon tie. He was tall with short black hair. He coughed and I looked up. I smiled reflexively.

He spoke, "I'm sorry, I think I owe you an apology."

I raised an eyebrow, "An apology?"

He shrugged and looked a little awkward, "Well it's just that you know, well I was staring at you and I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I almost couldn't help it, it's just that, well I'm sure you know, but you are very attractive."

I felt my cheeks go warm and I sort of bit my lower lip and blinked a few times with my head slightly lowered. I looked back up at him and smiled again, "Umm, thank you and it's OK, I didn't feel uncomfortable."

He gave me a broad smile and looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just sort of waved and said, "Alright then. Err goodbye," before turning and walking off.

I turned my attention back to Beth who was grinning at me from ear to ear.

"What?" I said defensively.

She slowly shook her head and smiled, "You really have no idea do you?"

I shook my head with a puzzled expression so she continued, "That shy little smile, flutter the eyelids, look down thing that you did? It totally worked like a charm on him."

I protested, "I wasn't doing any shy little thing, I just didn't know what to do." I paused, "I've never, well obviously, I've never had a guy talk to me like that and I don't know how to react."

She laughed, "Well, you're learning fast. That shy innocent response is a killer girl and he was dying to ask you out."

I gasped, "He was not..." but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

She gave me a knowing look and then grabbing the bags, began to stand up, "Come on and let's go get some sexy shoes for you."

We went to a fairly classy shoe store. "Is this place not a bit expensive?" I asked her softly as we entered.

She nodded, "Yes it is, but to be honest, for shoes you really get what you pay for and I've found it's not worth skimping. You get cheap shoes, they feel like cheap shoes and they look like cheap shoes. And you'll not wear them much."

I nodded and added that titbit to the store of information I had been building up all day. We browsed about a bit and Beth pointed out a few pairs of shoes. Some black court shoes with a small heel, a nicer pair with platform heels and then a classy black patent pair of pumps with a 4-inch heel. I sat down and tried them on. The court shoes fit well and were easy to walk in; the platform heels weren't too bad either. I felt a bit unsteady in the high heels and mentioned this to Beth. She told me to look in the mirror at how they made my legs look. I looked and I think I saw what she meant. They made my legs look even longer, the curves more defined, my calves looked more sculpted. I liked it.

"With legs like yours, you are made for high heels," Beth said and rolling her eyes, "my goodness, I could really get an inferiority complex alongside you."

I laughed knowing she was partly teasing me, "I see what you mean Beth. They aren't the most comfortable and I still feel a bit unsteady, but I guess I could get used to them."

She nodded, "We'll practice more and more in higher heels. You look so good in them, I want you to feel perfectly at ease in them."

We were going to pay for them, when a pair of boots caught my eyes. Beth noticed me pausing and followed my gaze. She gave a low whistle, "Sexy."

She was right, they were downright sexy. They were the sort of boots that if I had seen on an attractive woman, I would have had difficulty drawing my eyes away from her legs. They were black suede and looked like they would almost be knee high and they had a high almost stiletto heel on them. "Yes," I murmured, "very sexy."

Beth looked at me, "You want them don't you?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, I was just wondering how they would look on me."

She laughed, "Damn hot I think is the answer to that question."

I hesitated seeing the price tag, "Wow, they're incredibly expensive."

She put a hand on my arm, "Cara dear, compared to what we have spent overall today, it's a drop in the ocean. I think they would look fantastic on you and the way you are practically drooling over them, I know you totally want them."

I grinned at her, "Maybe I'll try them on and see how they fit."

Beth got the attention of an attendant -- a young, male one. He went to see if they had my size and it seemed that we were in luck as he returned with a largish box. I slid the boots up my legs and they felt great as they hugged my calves. I had been right: they did come to just below my knees. I zipped them up and stood up. They were high too. I took a few steps carefully as I got used to them. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and felt a real rush of blood to my head. They looked great and I loved them. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush that was to blame for what came next. I don't know why I did it.

I walked back over to Beth and the male attendant swinging my hips as Beth had taught me to, I read his name from his badge. "Colin," I said smiling sweetly, "what do you think? Do they look alright on me?" I fluttered my eyelids a few times. This time it was totally deliberate. Instantly a red flush crept up from under his collar and he stammered, "Uhh y-yes 'mam. They do look alright."

I gave a little pout and feigned disappointment, "Oh, only alright?"

He looked more flustered, "Umm, w-well, no 'mam, they actually look fantastic on you."

Beth was almost biting her tongue as she sought to contain her mirth. She nudged Colin and half-whispered, "It's OK, you can stop looking at her legs now."

Now I had to try and fight down the giggles. The poor boy looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. We put him out of his misery and told him we would take the boots. He scurried away to bag them and ring them through the till. Beth poked me in the ribs, "You are so bad."

I giggled, "I just can't believe it. A few smiles and bat the eyelids and they go to jelly? Are all men so pliable?"

She smiled and squeezed my arm, "No darling, only when the woman doing the smiling and eyelid batting is like sex-on-legs-with-boots."

I gasped and poked her back, "Now who's bad." We quietened down as Colin had returned with our bag and receipt. He looked sheepish. I smiled sincerely at him and thanked him for his help. His goofy smile in response almost made me burst out laughing as Beth and I made a beeline for the exit together.

----------*----------

We headed home and dumped over a dozen bags in the hall.

"Been busy I see," Jools commented as she came out of the library.

"Too right we have," I replied, "I don't think I have ever shopped as much as that in my life."

"Enjoy it?" asked Jools curiously.

Before I had a chance to reply, Beth cut in, "Oh yes she did indeed, but I'll tell you about that over some food. We're famished."

And she did. As the three of us ate the casserole and rice that Mabel had left for us, Beth related all the details of the shopping trip. Particularly focussing in on how cute the man at the food court was and emphasising how foxy I was. I sat and smiled with a near permanent blush on my face as I let them jabber away.

Beth was heading out for the evening and I headed into the lounge to relax and watch some TV. Jools had another phone call to make, but she joined me not much later. She sat down and didn't say anything. She looked pensive. I noticed and muted the TV. "What's on your mind Jools?"

She smiled at me and shrugged. I knew from her expression though that she had something to say. "Come on Jools, out with it."

"OK," she said reluctantly. "Well I know I said I wouldn't ask, but I'm not trying to be big brother or anything. But I do need to know. Are you taking the hormone pills?"

"I don't mind you asking so don't get all worried about it. Yes I am taking them," I replied matter-of-factly.

"Right," Jools said as she nodded. After a short pause she went on, "Well, you see, it's sort of like this. My doctor gave them to me sort of on one condition."

I sighed and smiled at her, "OK, come on, lay it on me."

She grinned ruefully, "Well she said she wouldn't normally give out treatment without seeing and examining the patient first, but she said she'd make an exception. However if 'my friend', that is you, decided to take the hormones, she wanted to examine you after the first 4 weeks of treatment and before any more treatment would be offered."

So that was it. I was going to have to see a doctor. I nodded slowly. "Alright, I guess that makes sense. Although I'm not over the moon about having to go and see a doctor about all this. But I guess if it had to be done. So what's your plan?"

Jools smiled, "Who says I have a plan?" When she saw the look on my face she laughed and said, "Alright. Here it is. We go to Sony on the morning of Monday 23rd and if things work out, that is if we get a deal, well I was sort of thinking you'd probably be thinking about continuing on with the hormones. So I have an appointment scheduled for the afternoon with Janice. If things don't work out with Sony and we are dropping this whole idea, well then we can always cancel."

"Janice?" I asked.

"Janice Carson. My doctor, she's an endocrinologist, but you probably gathered that. She's an old family friend and very easygoing."

I nodded, "Well OK, that sounds fine I guess. So if we do go to see her, we need to add her to the list don't we?"

"Yes. But don't worry about it, she's totally trustworthy and anyways as she will become your doctor, she will protect your confidentiality completely."

We chatted some more and watched a bit of TV. Although it was only just after 10 p.m, I felt exhausted. It must have been a combination of the early morning jog and the long afternoon shopping. I gave Jools a peck on the cheek and headed to bed. I took some time to hang my new clothes in my wardrobe and put my new 'delicates' away carefully in a drawer. It was quite an impressive array of clothes and must have cost a fortune. I had to admit that looking at the outfits I had bought, I felt a growing anticipation about wearing them all. When I fell into bed, it didn't take long before I fell asleep.

----------*----------

CHAPTER 5

Tuesday began much the same way as Monday had: Beth haranguing me to get out of bed to come do some exercise. But as it was raining, she was planning an aerobic session in the music room. She suggested I wear the lilac leotard that we had bought the previous day. I pulled it on, it was tight fitting and felt snug on me. I pulled my hair back into the obligatory ponytail and, with bleary eyes, made my way to the music room. Jools was already there sitting on the floor with her arms hugging her knees and a scowl on her face in between yawns. Beth grinned at us both.

"Come on ladies, when I'm done with you, you'll be bouncing out of bed each morning to get your endorphin fix from a good ol' healthy bout of exercise."

I screwed my face up and muttered, "I doubt it."

Jools swore under her breath conveying clearly her impression of the faint likeliness of this being the outcome.

Beth was not deterred, "Alright, now I know Jools has done some aerobics before, but we'll start slow and simple this morning. Let's just aim to get our muscles all stretched and loosened and then we'll do a few simple routines."

So we copied Beth in the stretching exercises she was demonstrating. I felt my muscles complaining as they were stretched outside their comfort zone. Jools didn't seem to have much bother with this. I guess it was her natural feminine suppleness: something which I was lacking. Beth noticed and came across to help me stretch my calf muscles.

She smiled down at me, "When I'm done with you Cara, you'll be doing the splits without a problem."

I laughed up at her, "I don't want to doubt your obvious talents Beth, but I think I'll just reserve judgement on that one."

Now we were ready to get going. She had us stand behind her and we all faced the mirror. She turned on the CD player. It was some sort of upbeat dance track. The sort of 'music' I usually despised and wouldn't normally listen to. But it served the purpose. She started with simple steps forwards and backwards and then to the sides. Jools and I did our best to copy her but occasionally collided with each other. It took all my powers of concentration to follow her but as time went on, it seemed to come a little more naturally. Soon Beth picked up the pace more and more until I began to feel my heart pounding in my chest. Looking in the mirror I saw Beth looking radiant with a smile on her face and I saw two red faces puffing and panting behind her. Eventually she took pity on us and slowed the pace gradually to a stop. Then she made sure we stretched our muscles again to prevent any cramp.

"That wasn't too bad, sure it wasn't?" Beth asked.

Jools and I looked at each other and grinned. Jools shrugged and grudgingly admitted, "It was OK. Better than running our guts out like yesterday."

Beth laughed, "Well, we'll try and alternate between running and aerobics and we'll have you girls fit in no time."

After breakfast and a luxurious foamy bath, I dressed in one of my new outfits. A simple white blouse and black skirt with matching hose and I slipped into my new high heels we had bought as I remembered Beth wanted me to practise in them.

I found that I was able to apply my makeup in a lot less time, with better results. I guess it is just familiarity and practice. It seemed like a natural thing to do and that thought disconcerted me. I wondered if I would have felt more at ease if I had more problems adjusting to the clothes and makeup and all. I shrugged off these thoughts. It was easier for me to adjust and the quicker the better, I rationalised.

There was no sign of Beth when I got down to the music room. As tempted as I was to sit down and play on the piano, duty got the better of me. Instead I began to practice walking up and down in the heels. I still felt unsteady and unnatural in them. I made myself take smaller steps as Beth had instructed and I made myself swing my hips more. I still had to concentrate and think about what I was doing though. Up and down, back and forwards.

My mind started to drift. It drifted in a direction that I didn't really want it to go in. I began to try to imagine what I was going to say to my Mum and Dad, and Claire my sister. 'Hi Mum, Dad, Claire. Guess what, I've decided to become a girl.' 'Hi Dad, what do you think of my new breasts?' 'Mum, can I borrow your lipstick?' 'Want to borrow a skirt from me Claire?' Although I sort of sniggered inwardly, it really wasn't funny. I felt a certain feeling of dread inside. Well perhaps I wouldn't have to tell them.

Perhaps it would all fall through with Sony and I'd go back to being Nick. I stopped in my tracks and exhaled slowly. Go back to being Nick. I looked in the mirror. I raised my eyebrows and looked at myself. I didn't see much of Nick and the thought of going back to my previous life had surprisingly little appeal. I suppose I began to realise how empty and lifeless things had been over the last year or so. I had become so obsessed with achieving my goals that somewhere down the line I had forgotten to live each moment and enjoy life. I began to walk up and down again, but more slowly. When I thought about it, I had actually enjoyed the last few days. Perhaps it was the sense of companionship which was different to my usual loneliness. Perhaps it was the comfortable surroundings. I looked in the mirror again. Perhaps it was because I strangely felt good about myself at the moment. This was something I hadn't felt for a long time.

My reverie was interrupted by a sleazy wolf-whistle from behind me. I whirled round and saw Beth leaning on the door frame. "Way to walk, foxy girl," she drawled.

I laughed and realised that I hadn't been concentrating on my walking and that I had been walking up and down in these heels without much effort over the last half hour or so. I then realised that my feet were now sore. We did a bit more walking practice as Beth gave me an instruction here and a tip there. Again we practiced standing and sitting. We went over other feminine gestures as she patiently taught me and as I sought to imitate her. She would make me repeat everything again and again until I would do it automatically without thinking.

And so we settled into this pattern for the next few days. Morning workout: aerobics or jogging. After breakfast one day, Beth also introduced me to the sun bed they had in another of the many little rooms in the house. She gave me a little black bikini, which made me blush from head to toe the first time I tried it on. She gave me instructions on using UV skin protector lotion and how much time to spend on each side. And so a few mornings a week, I would head down to the sun bed after breakfast and then shower off afterwards.

The rest of the mornings with Beth were spent practising mannerisms, speech and instruction on fashion and makeup. The afternoons were mine to play and sing. I tried to work on writing more songs and occasionally inspiration flowed, but other times it didn't. I didn't get too wired up about it when it didn't, I used the time to get more familiar with my new voice as I tried singing song after song. The evenings were spent relaxing, chatting or watching TV.

----------*----------

It was Friday tea-time when I realised that something was afoot. As we were getting ready for dinner, Beth and Jools were whispering away to each other.

"Alright girls, what's the big secret?" I asked.

They looked at me sheepishly, both grinning. It was Jools who answered, "Well Cara, I think we all need to get out a bit. We need a bit of distraction, leisure you know. So Beth and I have a great plan which will be great fun and also will be very useful."

I rolled my eyes, "OK, go on."

Beth took over, "Ballroom dancing." I looked at her and raised my eyebrows and she went on, "There are ballroom dancing classes in the Plymouth Civic Centre tonight and we thought it would be great fun to learn, so how about we all go to the beginners class which starts tonight?"

I blinked a few times and felt my throat go dry. "Erm dancing?" I hesitated, "But I can't dance."

Jools shrugged, "I know, so it would be a good opportunity to learn. You're going to need to be able to move and dance a bit more than you can now and yes I know that ballroom dancing is hardly likely to be a major part of your stage presence, but it would be a good foundation I reckon."

I nodded slowly, "OK." Then a thought hit me, "But for ballroom dancing you like need partners. Male partners."

Beth smiled, "I know. But don't worry about it. Some people come with partners, everyone else just pairs off when they get there. It'll be fun and exciting."

I wasn't too sure. The thought of being out in public still was quite terrifying. But I supposed that I would have to overcome that fear. And the thought of dancing, and dancing with some strange man at that? My mind could barely process it. But I knew better to argue with the girls when they both set their minds on something.

And so, after dinner, we went to our rooms to get ready. I showered and changed into my rib-knit black poloneck top and my black and white check skirt. I went for my flat court shoes as I was quite sure it would be hard enough dancing in them let alone in high heels. Beth had advised me to redo my makeup and emphasise it a little more for a nighttime outing. I added more eyeliner and mascara than I had been doing. A little more rouge and a deeper red hue of lipstick. After giving my hair a good brushing and spritzing myself with perfume I checked my appearance in the mirror. I looked pretty darn hot I had to admit to myself and I felt myself get aroused again as I looked at my reflection. I shrugged, blew myself a kiss, grabbed my jacket and headed downstairs.

When we arrived at the civic centre, we followed the signs to the beginners' ballroom dancing classes and found ourselves in a medium sized hall. There were about 30 or 40 people there. I had no idea that ballroom dancing was so popular. There were some couples, but also some people obviously without partners. As I looked around the room, I appraised the other women present. There was a fair mixture of age from our age to late middle age. I took some satisfaction in noting that as far as I was concerned, I didn't think any of them were particularly better looking than I was. I permitted myself a little smile. Then I caught myself on and wondered was I becoming bitchy so soon.

Beth nudged me and murmured, "What are you thinking?" She looked at me suspiciously.

I shrugged and tried to evade the question, "Oh nothing really."

"Come on," she persisted, "I saw you looking around, I saw your little smile. Confess girl!"

I laughed and confessed to her. She grinned back at me, "Oh we have become the little madam already. But honey, you do yourself a disservice. I think it would be more accurate to say that present company included, no-one in this room comes close to you in the looks department."

I felt myself blush again and wasn't sure what to say in reply. Thankfully I was spared the difficulty as a thin wiry man who must have been in his early sixties clapped for attention.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," he said. "My name is Freddy Brunswick and I will be your instructor for this class. You are all most welcome and don't worry, no prior knowledge or experience of ballroom dancing is required or even expected. Let's enjoy ourselves as we learn together."

He had an infectious sort of enthusiasm and he went on to explain what we would be doing. We were going to learn to waltz over the first 2 classes as it was one of the easier dances to pick up. He talked for a little while about the waltz and then, with a lady whom I presumed was his wife, he demonstrated the basic steps to us. Before long though, it was time for us to participate. He asked the couples to take to the floor and everyone else to find a partner if possible and join them on the floor.

I looked around nervously wondering who I could be partnered with. Jools sat for a moment and then muttered, "Stuff this, I'm off to get someone decent." And she headed boldly towards a sandy haired man who looked to be in his mid thirties. I looked over to the far side of the room and gasped. I hissed to Beth, "Look who it is over there."

She followed my gaze and grinned at me, "It's the man from the mall. Your dreamboat." I began to protest but she gave me a dig in the ribs and said, "And if I'm not mistaken he's coming this way."

Before he got over to us, Beth was propositioned by a young man with wavy brown hair and she agreed and they headed for the dance floor. The man from the mall was dressed casually in a navy blue shirt and cream slacks. I was wondering what I would say to him, but just before he got to me, I was tapped on the shoulder and I turned around to find a short, pot-bellied balding man who must have been over 50 leering at me, "Lookin' for a partner luv?" He was staring at my breasts and gave me a lewd wink. I felt mildly nauseous.

Before I could answer though, I felt a hand rest gently on my shoulder and a deep voice said, "Ah there you are darling, sorry I didn't see you at first." I turned to find the man from the mall smiling down at me, I thought I saw a little wink. I smiled at him and played along, "That's OK honey." I turned back to the little man and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, perhaps another time?" He shrugged, sniffed and continued his quest for a partner.

I turned back to my new partner and smiled shyly, "Thanks."

He smiled, "I'm afraid there are some less than desirable sorts who see these classes as an opportunity to prey on unsuspecting women. I hope you don't mind me rescuing you?"

I laughed, "Not at all." Then I grinned mischievously, "That is, assuming you are not one of those less than desirable sorts. Perhaps I've been saved from the frying pan only to fall into the fire."

A little smile curled around the edge of his mouth, "Ah well then perhaps if I am less than desirable, I should refrain from disturbing you further. Let me call your 'friend' back to partner you then."

"No!" I said a little too urgently. "No," I repeated more calmly with a smile, "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for now."

He laughed and taking my hand led me to the dance floor, "I'm Paul Davis. I don't know if you remember me from the mall the other day, but I just wanted to apologise again for staring at you so."

I smiled and shrugged a little awkwardly, "It's OK. I was flattered actually. I'm Cara Malone." I paused a little, "But I hope you aren't just dancing with me to appease your conscience." I raised an eyebrow.

He laughed, "Well of course. I mean what other reason could there be for wanting to dance with a beautiful woman. Cara, that's a nice name. I take it from your accent, you are not from around here. You are Welsh yes?"

I nodded, "Yes, I'm staying with my friends just outside Plymouth for a few weeks. Do you live here?"

"Yes, born and bred I am afraid."

Freddy asked us all to assume the correct stance. Paul put his left hand on my waist and took my left hand in his right hand. I lifted my right hand to his left shoulder. Freddy was going round making sure everyone had it right before beginning.

I looked up at my partner, "So Paul, what do you do when you are not sitting staring at unsuspecting women in the mall?" I smiled coyly.

He smiled down at me, "Oh trust me, I save my staring for exceptional cases. But when I am not being captivated by beautiful women, I work as a solicitor." He smiled almost apologetically, "In my father's firm actually. Davis, Hartley and Davis."

"A solicitor?" I said, "My father is a solicitor."

"Really? Where?"

I suddenly realised that I didn't want to divulge too many details so I backtracked a little, "Oh he works in Cardiff, but I don't want any more legal-like talk, I hear enough of it from him when I am at home."

He laughed, "And I get enough of it at work, so there's another thing we have in common."

"Another thing?"

He grinned, "We shop in the same mall, go to the same ballroom dancing class and both have our fill of legal talk. I'm amazed we have so much in common."

I laughed at him. I looked up at him, I guess I could see how he could be considered 'cute' as Beth had said the other day. He had short dark hair, a tanned complexion and chiselled facial features. Then I noticed his eyes, they were a startling green colour and had a kindly twinkle in them. I realised he was chuckling at me.

"What?" I almost pouted.

"Now who's staring?" he asked.

I laughed and dropped my gaze, blinking a few times. I looked back up and with red cheeks said, "Sorry. Guess I'm just getting my revenge."

"Well do I meet your standards for a prospective ballroom dancing partner?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Well I can safely say you are the most handsome ballroom dancing partner I have ever had," I retorted. I knew I was flirting with him, but I enjoyed it so I didn't care.

"You've never had a ballroom dancing partner before, sure you haven't?" he surmised.

I giggled, "No, never."

He shrugged, "I'll still take it as a compliment."

"Good," I replied, "it was meant as one."

He squeezed my hand and was about to say something when the music started and Freddy shouted for us all to give the waltz a try and not to worry if we messed up. I wasn't sure what exactly to do, but it didn't seem to matter as Paul led me confidently. I just let myself relax and let him guide me where to go. It took a bit of concentration at first and I had to look down at my feet but after 5 or 10 minutes and a few different waltzes, I felt I was getting the hang of it. I didn't have to watch my feet so much and was able to look up at Paul. He was smiling down at me, "You're doing great."

I laughed, "Oh I'm doing very little, I'm just following your lead."

He shrugged, "That's exactly the secret of ballroom dancing." He paused and then added quickly, "Well so I hear." I looked at him curiously and he just winked at me. The waltzes came thick and fast and I really began to enjoy the sensation of whirling around in each other's arms. I noticed Jools and Beth were doing alright. Perhaps not just as free in their motion as I felt, but I attributed that more to my partner's skill rather than my own. I began to suspect that he was not quite a beginner after all.

There was a break halfway through to let us all capture our breath and take a quick rest. Paul, still holding my hand, led me to a seat at the side and we sat down. He was still holding my hand once we sat down but I didn't protest. I saw Jools and Beth take seats at other parts of the hall. I figured out what they were at: giving me some space. The minxes! I became aware of Paul's eyes on me. I turned around and met his gaze. He had a little smile on his face.

"You're staring at me," I accused.

He nodded slowly, "Yes I am."

I laughed and looked away again for a moment, before turning back to him, "You're still staring at me."

He nodded again and a smile grew on his face, "Yes I am."

I shook my head slowly, "You'll give me a complex if you keep that up."

He squeezed my hand, "Oh I doubt that. You know, it's truly wonderful dancing with you Cara." He left the sentence hanging so I asked the expected question.

"OK, go on, why do you say that?"

He laughed, "Because with you in my arms, the eyes of every other man in this room were looking at me with envy."

This time I really felt my cheeks flush and I bit my lower lip. I paused for a moment not really knowing how to respond. I felt my heart beating a mile a minute inside my chest at his words. I wasn't sure how I felt, but I knew that I relished the feeling of being appreciated. I flashed him a warm smile and said softly, "Thank you Paul. You make me feel very special, but you don't need to over exaggerate."

He squeezed my hand again and with a gentle smile said, "I'm not exaggerating."

It was time to dance again and Freddy called us to order. Paul led me back to the dance floor and the remaining time was filled with more up-tempo waltzes. We danced and whirled around the hall and I loved it. I really never thought I would enjoy it, but it was exhilarating. The final waltz got faster and faster until it finished with an orchestral climax and we all stopped and panted for breath. I looked up at Paul and smiled and him. He grinned at me and gave a little bow, "For the pleasure of your company on the dance floor this evening, ma'am, I thank you."

I giggled and gave my best attempt at a little curtsy, "Oh no kind sir, the pleasure was undoubtedly mine."

He took my hand and led me to the side of the room and I collected my jacket. As I slipped it on, I turned to him, "You know Paul, you are awfully good at ballroom dancing for an absolute beginner."

He definitely blushed. "Ah well," he hesitated, "I guess I'm not a total novice. I have done a bit of this before."

I raised an eyebrow, "Really?" I grinned, "So you just come along to the beginner's class to show off to a young lady is that it?"

He laughed, "Oh no, not at all. Let me tell you the truth then. I have done a lot of ballroom dancing and usually come along to the main class each Friday night. But tonight on my way in, I saw this vision of beauty the like of which I have only ever seen once before. I had to follow her and knew she had to be my partner tonight."

I smiled and him and shook my head, "Paul! You'll give me a big head if you go on like that."

He smiled at me strangely and said softly, "I don't think I will you know."

I shrugged and out of curiosity asked, "So when did you see such similar beauty before?"

He grinned and winked at me, "At the mall on Monday afternoon."

I laughed and gave him a playful poke in the ribs, "You!"

He put his hands in his pockets and shifted a little awkwardly before speaking a little hesitantly, "I was well sort of wondering....that is, I don't want to pressure you, but if you were needing a partner for next Tuesday's class...." His voice trailed off.

I smiled, "I'd like that Paul."

He grinned and took my hand and gave it one last little squeeze, "Alright Cara, I'm now counting the hours until Tuesday night." He waved and walked off. I stood there with a bemused little grin on my face when Jools and Beth scooted over to my side.

I knew they were brimming with questions, but they took an arm each and whisked me out and down the stairs. Once we were in the car, Jools driving, me in the passenger seat and Beth in the back, the floodgates opened and I was deluged with questions.

"Who is he?"

"Did you enjoy that?"

"What did he say to you?"

"Was he holding your hand?"

I laughed and held up my hands, "Give me some space, girls."

They paused for breath. "OK," I began, "he is Paul Davis and he is a local solicitor. Yes I enjoyed the dancing. He said lots of things to me and yes he was holding my hand."

Beth tickled me from the back seat, "Oh, how unfair, not only do you get the cutest guy in the place, but probably the richest too."

I laughed and shrugged, "I wasn't trying to attract him."

"Pffft," said Jools, "I saw the way you were making eyes at him as you danced, the little smiles, the hand holding. Girl you had him eating out of your hand. So I suppose he asked you to be his partner next Tuesday too?"

I felt my cheeks flush, "Erm well actually yes."

"And you said?" prompted Beth.

"I said OK"

Jools continued, "So you want to go next Tuesday?"

I replied, "I guess, I mean I just sort of presumed we were going."

She grinned at me, "Well with a hunk like Paul the solicitor, who would blame you for wanting to go."

I protested, "Come on girls, it's not that I'm attracted to him or anything. I mean underneath it all, I'm a...." I couldn't bring myself to say it, I changed tack, "It's just that I enjoyed the dancing, and yes I enjoyed the attention. That's all it was."

The looks I got from both of them were filled with scepticism and disbelief but they let it drop as they told me about their partners.

----------*----------

Later that night as I got into bed, I felt a few doubts myself. I mean, underneath it all, I was a guy. I was attracted to girls -- I had no doubt about that. But this evening had been very strange. Granted, I had never danced with a guy before. Yet it just seemed right. As I thought about it, I was sure it was just because I was fulfilling the role expected of me: as people looked at me, they saw a woman and by dancing with a man, I was doing what was natural for who I appeared to be. Hence I enjoyed it for what it was. But he was cute. Well yes, objectively speaking, he was an attractive man and charming. But that's all there was to it, I didn't feel anything more than that. I think.

----------*----------

CHAPTER 6

The next morning was clear and bright and Beth led us on a gruelling run outside down along the beach. Perversely I was beginning to enjoy the early morning exercise sessions and after only a week I already felt fitter than I had ever been in my life. It's amazing the buzz that a good workout can give you. Not quite as good as the buzz from performing live, but better than I would have imagined. Jools also wasn't complaining just as much, but she always gave her token reluctant groan before we set out.

After running about 2 miles, we paused for breath. I felt the winter breeze in my hair and the taste of the salt sea air on my lips. I felt the not unpleasant tightness in my chest as I gasped for air and the mild discomfort in my muscles. I felt alive, really alive. It was seemingly a million miles away from the gloom and doom of London and a part of me felt sad that this was only a temporary respite from the real world. As I hunkered down on the sand, letting it run through my fingers, and watched the waves crashing in not far from us, I felt content. There had been so many changes over the last week when Jools and I had set out from London that it was hard to believe that it had only been a week. It felt like a lifetime ago. I remarked as much to the girls.

Jools squeezed my shoulder softly, "I know what you mean Cara. In many ways, it is a lifetime ago."

I think then, I realised just how shrewd Jools really was. If we were going to succeed with me as Cara, I needed to make the break from Nick as much as possible. There was no real reason that Beth couldn't have taken some time to come up to London to help me out there in becoming Cara. But by taking me away from my previous life and bringing me down here, it was almost like a genesis experience. A new birth. Or was I thinking too much about it. Either way, strangely I reckoned that being down here made all the other changes easier to adjust to. But there was no more time to dwell on it as Beth led the charge back to the house for breakfast.

After breakfast, I met Jools and Beth downstairs. I was dressed in a pink jersey top, my short denim skirt, black hose and my high-heeled black suede boots. I loved those boots already and was feeling a lot more confident walking in them with all the practice I had had with Beth this last week. The girls had decided that we all needed to get out for a bit of relaxation. And with the added goal of helping me become more at ease in public. So we headed into Plymouth town centre to do some shopping.

Beth was wearing a flattering black miniskirt and Jools had on a pair of tight denim jeans over brown boots. Understandably we attracted more than our fair share of admiring glances and I found that it didn't disturb me as much as it had done earlier in the week. In fact, it seemed normal, even enjoyable. Also I didn't have the same fear that someone was going to think I was a man. I knew I was and yet when I looked in the mirror, I could barely convince myself of what I had been. What I had been? I hadn't thought about it like that before, but I guess considering my masculinity in the past tense was another indication of my ongoing adjustment.

We visited most of the main big name high street stores and Jools and Beth bought a few tops and skirts. I wasn't particularly looking for anything, but in Next, Beth called me over. She held up a black velvet top and a pair of burgundy trousers.

"I think you'd look divine in these," she gushed.

"Umm, I don't know Beth. I mean burgundy? Isn't it a bit loud?"

She shrugged, "Sure, but if anyone could get away with it, you could."

"What do you mean?"

From behind me Jools answered, "I think she is implying that even a brown paper sack would look good on you Cara my dear."

I gave them both a poke, but nonetheless headed for the fitting rooms with the two items. I tried them on. The black velvet top had a low neckline on it and was almost off the shoulder. The trousers were quite tight fitting and I thought they made my bum stand out too much. Looking in the mirror I had to admit though that the overall effect was quite fetching. The girls called me out and as I modelled the clothes for them I asked them if they thought the trousers were a bit tight around my bum. They laughed at me and said words to the effect of 'typical girl'. We bought them. And a pair of denim jeans, which also fit me like a glove.

After a light lunch in a nearby café, Beth suggested that we call by her salon to repeat my facial electrolysis. We arrived as one of her staff was just about to close up. She introduced me to her. Sally was essentially the day to day manager of the salon and left Beth fairly free to be as involved or not as she wanted. She was an attractive brunette, tall and slim. After a little small talk, Sally headed home leaving the three of us in the salon.

Beth repeated the electrolysis treatment and it didn't take as long this time. "I think another 2 weeks or so and you'll be free forever Cara," Beth quipped.

I laughed and replied dryly, "Great!"

She got me to touch up my makeup and while we were there, she took the opportunity to show me a few different looks and give me more detailed instruction in blending different colour tones of eye shadow, and using different shades of lipstick to create various looks. I tried to take as much of it in as possible. I knew I shouldn't really enjoy it, but I did. I liked being able to make myself look different, I enjoyed being able to make myself look pretty. I knew it went against all the stereotypes of the day. If I thought of myself as a man, I guess I thought of myself as some kind of sissy. That was why I had to keep thinking of myself as a woman. In which case, all this was natural and to be expected.

Whilst we were out, we decided to make a day of it and got some dinner at a quiet seafood restaurant on the edge of town before heading to the cinema to catch a movie. It was what I would previously have disdainfully called a 'chick-flick", but I enjoyed it and let myself go. At the end of it, all three of us girls were in tears and laughed at each other as we left, trying to prevent our makeup from smudging too much.

When we got home, I thanked them for a great day. I had really enjoyed it. It had been relaxing and fun. I was certainly now more at ease in public as Cara and for most of the day had practically forgotten who I was and just went with the flow.

----------*----------

Sunday was quiet, relaxing and uneventful. Again I declined the offer of going to Church with the girls which attracted some disappointed tuts and clucks from Mabel when she found out. Monday and Tuesday followed the usual pattern. A good workout in the morning followed by practising all sorts of things with Beth: hairstyling, make-up, walking again, eating, hand gestures, facial mannerisms and even practising getting in and out of cars! In the afternoons I tried to write more songs but really didn't have much success. I wrote parts of a few new songs but discarded them all as I wasn't satisfied with them. They were OK, but that wasn't good enough.

As Tuesday evening approached, I felt a growing sense of anticipation about going dancing again. I tried to tell myself that it was just that I had enjoyed the dancing so much last time, but I had a few internal doubts. I think the girls sensed my nervous excitement. They shared a few knowing glances, but didn't say anything. I was quite disgusted with myself as I spent an inordinate amount of time in my room trying on several outfits before settling on the little black dress Beth had given me on my first day. I stuck with my flat shoes as I didn't feel confident enough to try dancing in high heels. Again I took far longer doing my make-up and hair than I had intended to. Eventually I was happy that I looked OK, well looked great to be honest. I was cutting it fine and I ran downstairs to find Beth patiently waiting and Jools not quite so patient. They grinned and winked at me and gave me nice compliments but didn't voice what I knew they were thinking.

When we arrived in the dance room in the civic centre, I scanned the people already present. It was with a certain sense of disappointment that I noted that Paul was not there. It was still a little early though. However, when Freddy called the class to order and had given us a refresher of what we covered last week and a little more instruction on waltzing, particularly on the faster Viennese waltzes, Paul was still nowhere to be seen. Beth and Jools linked up with their partners from the previous week. Jools gave my arm a little squeeze before she headed onto the dance floor, "Don't worry Cara, just try and enjoy yourself tonight."

I sighed and realised there was a little gathering starting to form up in my vicinity. Three men were closing in on me. One was short, one was fat and the other tall and skinny. I had little desire to have any of them for a partner. They all arrived before me at the same time: "Need a partner sweetie?" "Want to join me on the floor dear?" "Want to partner me love?"

I sighed and was about to pick one when I felt an arm encircle my waist from behind and a deep voice say, "Sorry gents, this lady is with me." Paul!

I turned and my arm sort of automatically went around his waist too, I looked up at him and smiled. Then I blushed and pulled my arm back. He smiled and released me gently. "I err, thought you weren't coming," I tried to sound nonchalant. He was dressed in a charcoal grey business suit.

He shrugged and apologised, "Cara, I'm so sorry. I got held up at work and left as soon as I could and came straight over."

I smiled, "You arrived in the nick of time."

He laughed, "Should I take that as a compliment?"

I flushed a little again, "Well I suppose so."

The music started and we were waltzing again. It took me a few minutes to settle into the routine and pattern again but then when I did, I was able to relax and enjoy the motion as Paul wheeled me around the dance floor. Before long, Freddy moved us all onto faster Viennese waltzes. They were exhilarating as we wheeled and circled at a fast tempo. But they were exhausting too. It wasn't long before Freddy called a break which I think we were all glad to take. Paul led me to the side of the room, again holding my hand. I didn't mind and I was happy for him to keep holding it as we sat down.

"So," he began, "you never told me what you did or why you are gracing humble Plymouth with your presence."

I gave a little laugh, "Well, this always sounds corny, but I'm a singer and musician."

He raised an eyebrow and smiled at me, "Really? So why Plymouth then? I don't think I've seen you on the street corners busking, because I'm sure I would have noticed." He paused, "And thrown lots of money into your hat." He winked.

I chuckled, "No. Well, I'm staying with my friends trying to write some songs."

"What sort of singer or musician are you?" he asked.

I wrinkled my nose a little, "How does one categorise oneself?" I shrugged, "I guess I'd like to think of it as contemporary folk rock. I play piano, a little guitar, and well sing of course."

He grinned, "So should I have heard of Cara Malone? Have I missed you on Top of the Pops?"

I laughed, "No." A pause, "Not yet. But watch this space."

"Really?" he said with interest.

I shrugged and felt a little embarrassed, "Well I don't know. I hope so. I'm trying to see if I can land a recording deal. I've got a meeting in London with a company in a few weeks time."

He looked at me without saying anything for a moment, "I'd sign you up."

I laughed and squeezed his hand, "You haven't even heard me sing or play."

He shrugged and looked into my eyes, "Doesn't matter, if you can sing half as good as you look, anyone would be a fool if they turned you away."

I looked away feeling a funny sensation in my stomach. Excitement? Embarrassment? I wasn't sure. I turned back and looked up at him. "Paul," I protested, "you shouldn't tease me so."

He smiled, "Cara, believe me I'm not teasing, but I'd be happy to reassess my opinion once you sing and play for me."

I was about to reply when Freddy called us back onto the floor. Just as well as I wasn't sure what I was going to say in reply. More Viennese waltzes followed apace, each subsequent waltz being faster in tempo until we were really moving. I noticed that several couples collided but it seemed that Paul always managed to steer us away from any impending collisions. He really was very good I decided.

The end of the class seemed to come too soon and Paul placed a light hand on my shoulder as he guided me off the dance floor. I smiled at him, "Thanks Paul, I really enjoyed the dancing tonight."

He grinned, "Oh the pleasure was undoubtedly almost all mine, so much so that I feel guilty."

I laughed and poked him in the ribs, "Flatterer and charmer! But thanks."

He smiled amusedly at me. "What?" I asked.

He shook his head, "You truly are an exceptional woman Cara Malone. I don't know what it is about you, there is something different about you that I just can't put my finger on."

I felt my heart pound. Did he suspect? What was it? "Erm, what do you mean?" I asked unsurely.

He shrugged, "Well here you are: an extraordinarily beautiful woman and yet unlike other women who might approach your beauty, you seem to have no idea how attractive you are. You don't the high opinions of yourself and great notions about yourself that most attractive women do. It's as if you really don't believe how beautiful you are."

"Paul..." I paused, "I really don't know what to say. I guess I'm not used to such kind attention."

"I find that hard to believe Cara. I'm sure you must have had men flocking around you most of your life."

I shrugged and paused, thinking carefully about how I answered. I decided to stick as close to the truth as I could, "Well not really. I guess you could say I was a late bloomer." Yes, like only last week I thought. "And I've not had much time to think about it really as I've been quite focussed on my goals."

He nodded seeming to accept that, "Then I am indeed all the more privileged. I'll be honest with you Cara, it is rare that I want to dance with a woman more than once or twice. Please don't think I'm some sort of serial womaniser. It's not that at all. It's just that, being honest, most women bore me. They all laugh and simper at everything I say and don't seem to have much to say. But not you."

I grinned and winked, "Sorry Paul, I'll try to hang on your every word more and laugh at each sentence."

He laughed and then became more serious, "See that's it. There seems to be so much more to you. You're intelligent, witty -- I get the feeling there's a lot of hidden depths to you Cara Malone."

I smiled. If only you knew I thought. "Thanks Paul." I paused, "I, I really enjoy your company too."

His face brightened, "Could you bear to dance with me again on Friday evening?"

I smiled then feigned a serious look of consideration, "Well, it'll be tough, but I guess I'll have to try and manage to endure it."

He laughed, then took my hand and gave it a little squeeze, "See you on Friday."

I squeezed his hand back and winked, "You'd better be on time or I might have to take a better offer." He laughed as I waved and walked over to Jools and Beth.

----------*----------

In the car on the way home, I really got it from the girls. Intense questions about what Paul had said, what I had said, had I enjoyed it and so on. I tried to fob them off as best as I could, but to no avail. When I told them about the things he had said about me at the end they just looked at each other across the front seat and nodded and smiled knowingly. From the front passenger seat, Beth turned round to me in the back and grinned, "Girl, you had better be careful, this guy is falling for you, and falling big time."

I protested, "Nonsense, he barely knows me..."

Jools interrupted, "Nonsense nothing, what's not to like for him? You're gorgeous, and intelligent and witty as he says. He's definitely falling for you and you should be careful."

"Why?" I asked.

She replied, "Well very soon he's going to want to kiss you and what will you do then?"

I felt a hollow churning in my stomach. I suppose she could have been right, but I didn't want to face that right now, "Rubbish Jools, we're just dance partners."

"Rubbish? C'mon Cara, I mean you know how guys think, he'd just love to slip his tongue into that beautiful mouth of yours."

"Jools!" I protested again, feeling more and more disconcerted.

"What?" she said almost innocently, "well are you denying that you wouldn't like him to hold you in his arms and kiss you?"

"Yes of course I'm denying it!"

"Sure," she teased, "well that's not the signals you're sending out to him. I'm not sure I believe you either."

I don't know why, but I just seemed to crack. I have no idea where it came from, but I burst into tears and between my sobs managed to say, "Leave me alone, I'm not like that, I don't feel that way about guys, I mean I'm not, well I'm.....just leave me alone. I don't want to think about it..." I buried my head in my hands and sobbed. I don't whether I was more upset about what Jools had said and the way it made me feel, or about the way I was now reacting. The rest of the drive home took place in silence as I tried to get myself under control.

When we arrived back, I jumped out of the car and went inside the house heading straight for my room. I felt mortified and couldn't face the girls. Safe inside my room, I saw my appearance in the mirror. Mascara tear-stained trails led down my cheeks and I slumped onto the stool before my dressing table and stared at myself.

Why had I had such an outburst like that? Perhaps it was just the build up of overwhelming sensations. Being treated and talked to like a beautiful woman all evening by, on all accounts, an attractive male. Actually enjoying the attention. And then having it all focussed for me by the girls' comments. I think it had all been too much for me and the problem was that I really didn't know how I felt. The last two weeks had been a rollercoaster and as with every rollercoaster, there are highs and lows. I didn't suddenly want to rip off my newfound womanhood and shun it. I just needed to get more accustomed to it and explore how I really felt. I figured it would take time.

My musings were interrupted by a quiet tapping on my door. "Come in," I croaked after a momentary pause.

Jools peeped tentatively around the door. From her face, I could see that she had been crying too. "Can I come in?" she asked softly.

I nodded and she walked over towards me. She knelt down beside me and wrapped her arms around me, "I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to hurt you, I mean it's the last thing I'd want to do. I was stupid..." she choked back a sob, "Sorry, I'm so sorry, please forgive me, I was insensitive. Sorry Nick."

I hugged her back, but at her last phrase I held her back a little and looked into her eyes. I shook my head slowly, "It's not Nick, it's Cara."

She shrugged, "I just didn't know how you felt about being..."

I sighed, "Jools, I don't know how I feel about a lot of things, but I'm Cara right now. I know that." I paused, "I like that. I know that. But everything's moving so quick." Now I was the one to choke back a sob, "It's just...overwhelming." I lost it and hugged her close as my body was wracked with sobs. She clung tightly to me and we both sat there for several minutes both of us sobbing.

Eventually we both settled down and sat there holding each others hands. Jools looked up at me, "Want me to stay with you tonight?"

I smiled wanly at her and nodded, "Yes. I just don't want to be alone." We both removed the remains of our make-up. I got into my nightie.

"I need to go get a nightdress," Jools said.

I gave a little grin, "Want to borrow one of mine?"

She laughed and I did too. "Sure, I'd like that."

We got into bed and hugged close. It wasn't sexual or anything. We both just revelled in the closeness and physical comfort. Jools kissed me on the cheek and murmured, "I'm so sorry Cara, you know I really love you."

I hugged her close, "I love you too silly, now stop before you make us burst into tears again!"

----------*----------

The next morning, Beth didn't seem too surprised when she found Jools and I snuggled together. Or at least if she was surprised, she hid it well. "C'mon you two sleepyheads, out of bed with both of you and let's go do some aerobics."

With some groaning and complaining, we dragged ourselves out from under the warm covers. Jools padded off to her room to get changed and I slipped into my leotard and soon joined both of them in the music room for a vigorous workout. We were being treated to a lot more ambitious aerobic routines and to our credit, Jools and I were managing to keep up fairly well.

Truth be told, I was really starting to enjoy the arduous fitness regime that Beth was putting us through. I had more energy, and felt much healthier and I had definitely noticed that my body was becoming more supple and far better toned than it ever had been. I think it was also helped by a sustained period of healthy eating. Looking back, I realised that I had really been neglecting myself: eating rubbish, eating irregularly, sleeping erratically and not exercising. Plus I hadn't paid much attention to my physical appearance. How that had changed!

The next few days followed their usual pattern. Beth was a tough taskmaster and when I remarked to her that I felt I had got the hang of female mannerisms and everything that she was teaching me, she just reminded me that most women had years and years to learn these things and I could at least stick with it for a few weeks.

I guess she was right. At times, I would move in a characteristically male way or say something that was not very feminine without thinking. She continually gave little hints and reminders and gradually, bit by bit I tried to polish off the 'rough male edges' that remained. I was certainly making progress.

It was a very rare occasion when I didn't swing my hips when walking, or forget to smooth my skirt when sitting down. It was beginning to come more naturally and I knew that was the way it had to be. I reckoned it was just that the novelty of this 'training' had worn off and it had now become somewhat routine and tedious. But as Beth reminded me gently, it didn't make the training any less important or necessary. I was now fairly adept and confident at doing my own make-up and I was getting better all the time. With the magazines that Beth and Jools had given me to read, I was starting to understand more about current fashions and clothing trends. Secretly, I actually enjoyed reading the women's magazines, the stories and gossip and all. This wasn't too surprising as I reckoned most men enjoyed a clandestine read at such magazines but just would never admit to it.

It was Friday lunchtime when I broached the subject of money with Jools and Beth. Initially they tried to wave me off and change the subject but I persisted. I knew they were out a substantial sum of money due to me and I was adamant I had to repay them. Eventually they gave in when they realised I was not backing down and they got a calculator and various receipts. Beth had put most of the expenses on her Visa card and although the bill wasn't due just yet, I wanted to make amends. The breast forms had been very expensive, 500 pounds in fact. We had spent a scandalous amount of money on clothes and shoes. It came to just under 2000 pounds. I could hardly believe it, but Jools reminded me that we had basically created a whole new female wardrobe for me from scratch so it seemed a little better in that context. I got my chequebook, well Nick's chequebook to be accurate and wrote Beth a cheque for 3200 pounds. She protested that it was too much. But I explained that if she could give me some cash of my own in return, it would give me a little more flexibility. Jools' curiosity was piqued.

"What do you want the money for?"

I shrugged, "This and that, might want to do a little shopping."

She looked at me suspiciously, "What are you planning?"

"Well I thought I might head into town by myself this afternoon and do a little shopping," I replied.

Beth clapped her hands together in glee, "Oh goody goody, shopping! I'll come too."

I chewed my lower lip and paused before speaking, "Beth, would you mind if I went by myself?"

She looked a little disappointed so I continued, "It's not that I don't want you with me, but it's just that every time I have been out anywhere up to now, I have been with one or both of you. I've never been out by myself, and although I'm pretty terrified at the thought, I'm going to have to get used to it. Is that ok?"

She smiled and nodded, "No you're right, it makes perfect sense. Have a good time. I'll drop you into town and I'll get you some cash from an ATM on the way."

----------*----------

Beth dropped me off in the town centre. It was an overcast day, but thankfully dry. Under my waist length black coat, I was wearing a white polo neck top, a yellow and red tartan miniskirt, black stockings and my platform heeled black leather boots.

I felt good and having checked my appearance before setting out, I knew I looked good. I couldn't deny to myself that I really liked looking like an attractive woman. In fact, I think that was putting it mildly. Plus I was beginning to revel in the attention that I could seem to attract without any effort at all. Doors would be held open for me, men would smile at me. Of course some of the women would still look at me bitchily, but that was all part of the deal I reckoned. Why I so enjoyed it, I still couldn't quite explain. But I wasn't sure that I had to work that out. Just go with it and take it as it comes.

I browsed around various boutiques and high street big name stores and enjoyed a leisurely look around. I never would have done this or enjoyed it before. I did have some things in mind to get and I spotted something that might fit the bill in an elegant semi-conservative boutique. Up until now all my clothes, whilst in no way slutty or tarty, were on the tight and short side of things. I felt I needed something a little more conservative for the odd occasion. I had found a light grey suit. A short cropped jacket with a matching long narrow pencil skirt. I found my size, a 10, and took it to the fitting room. It fit me well and looked very elegant I thought. It wasn't dowdy or unflattering, but was certainly very decent and still attractive. The white polo neck top looked grand with it, but I went out to find a nice blouse that could go with it too. I found a satiny white blouse that looked like just the ticket and, trying the ensemble, I was most satisfied. My black boots finished the outfit perfectly and so I left the shop nigh on 200 pounds worse off, but happy nonetheless. I had an idea for when I would first need it.

Just as I had left the shop, a dress in the window caught my eye. It was a black satin dress and it was just exquisite. I don't know what came over me, but I found myself going back in to see if I could try it on. I didn't know why. But there I was zipping myself into this sleek just about on the shoulder gown with a long flaring skirt to it that had strategically placed and quite revealing slits. I looked at myself in the mirror and imagined myself dancing in it before I came to my senses. I took the dress off as I realised I really would have little need of it. And that was reinforced when I saw the price tag: it cost just over 400 pounds! I chuckled to myself. I was behaving like a little schoolgirl, but it was fun. Needless to say, I didn't buy it, but it was with some regret that I left it back on the rail.

My next stop was a high street jeweller. I had two goals in mind: I wanted to buy myself some jewellery, but I also wanted to take the opportunity to buy something nice for Jools and Beth as Christmas presents. It was only the 6 December but I wanted to get them something now while I had the opportunity. The shop was quite busy so I stood back and with a little smile on my face waited patiently. It wasn't too long before a middle-aged man in a black suit appeared at my side, "Can I help you 'mam?"

I smiled warmly at him, "Oh I hope so. I want to get something special for two of my girlfriends. What could you suggest?" I have to confess that the slightly helpless appearance that I was conveying was not entirely affected as I really didn't have much of an idea about what to get.

It seemed to do the trick as he smiled at me and led me over to a large display case behind a glass table. He offered me a chair on one side of the table and I sat down whilst he unlocked the display cabinets. "Was 'mam thinking of anything in particular?"

I gave a little frown and said, "Well I suppose I could get a necklace for one of them and perhaps a bracelet for the other."

He nodded, "Any preference of silver or gold 'mam?"

I decided I could get to like being called 'mam. Before, well before I was Cara, I never really got treated to anything like this sort of attentive service in a shop. Not surprising really when I considered how I must have looked. Scrawny, scruffy and not dressed too well.

I told him it would have to be gold and he brought out several trays of gold necklaces and bracelets. With his help and advice I selected a narrow, yet beautiful gold chain for Jools and a chunkier bracelet for Beth. I also treated myself to a silver chain, matching bracelet and long pendant drop earrings. Yet again I left another shop substantially poorer, but pleased with my purchases.

Time was getting on and I decided to head back to Silsbury Manor. Although Beth had told me to phone her when I wanted picked up, I didn't want to bother her, plus I didn't want to hang around much longer as it was getting cold. So I went to the nearby taxi stand and several drivers who had been standing around leaped to assist me. It was quite uncanny the effect I seemed to have just by my appearance alone. I liked it. I got into the first taxi in the line and sat down in the back seat.

"Where to love?" he asked, looking at me in the driver's rear-view mirror.

"Silsbury manor, the coast road between here and Seaton," I replied with a friendly smile.

He nodded and smiled at me, "No problem."

As he drove, I could see him stealing glances at me in the rear-view mirror from time to time and I tried to hide a smile. I was feeling a bit mischievous so I decided to have a little fun. Or rather as I tried to rationalise it, an experiment of the powers of feminine behaviour in action.

Firstly I took a small hairbrush from my purse and began to slowly and languidly brush my hair. Then, taking a little mirror, I touched up my makeup. Lastly, closing my purse, I stretched and slowly uncrossed and crossed my legs. Glancing up at the mirror I could see his eyes were practically fixed on me and looked like they would pop out of his head. I met his gaze and gave him a little smile to let him know that I knew he was watching me.

He averted his eyes and I saw his cheeks colour. Inwardly I was amazed at how easy it seemed to be to elicit such reactions. I knew I really shouldn't have, but I was reasoning that as I wanted to be a performer, a little practice along the way wouldn't do any harm.

Before long we arrived at the gates of Silsbury Manor. Shortly after I had arrived two weeks ago, Jools had given me a remote for the gates which I had kept in my purse. I activated the gates and we drove up the long drive. I got out in front of the house, being especially careful to protect my dignity and stood before the driver's open window.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked.

He smiled, "Almost a crime to have to charge you love, but it's 8 pounds 50.

I gave him a ten pound note and smiling sweetly said, "Keep the change."

He beamed at me and, seeming a little flustered, handed me a small business card, "If you ever need a taxi again love, make sure an' call me now. I'll take care of you."

I smiled and thanked him before turning and walking up to the front door. I didn't look back but I was almost sure his eyes were fixed on me. I got in and took my purchases straight to my room and hid the presents for Jools and Beth. I sat down for a moment to rest my feet before going down to dinner.

I had really enjoyed my afternoon. I really enjoyed the attention I got and the way people treated me as a woman. Being honest with myself I was really enjoying being a woman. Back when Jools had suggested the idea three weeks ago -- it seemed like months -- but back then, I had gone along with the idea thinking it would be a means to an end. That is success. And whilst I still had the hunger to pursue this goal, I never thought that I would actually really enjoy the charade of being a woman.

Charade? That didn't seem right. I didn't really think of myself putting on a charade. I was beginning to think of myself as a new person that I had become. A new person that I was beginning to like more and more. The thought crossed my mind again about what I would do if we didn't happen to land a deal. Probably for the first time I admitted to myself that I would seriously consider not going back to being 'Nick' even if things didn't work out. Wow. That was a mind blower and I was quite glad to hear Beth shouting up the stairs to me that dinner was ready.

Over dinner, I recounted my afternoon's activities to them. When they asked what I had bought, I was deliberately evasive and delighted in keeping them in the dark. I had a few surprises for them. I told them about the jewellery I had bought myself to keep them quiet and had to show it to them immediately after dinner. They approved.

I confessed to them about trying on the satin gown and said I felt silly given that I really had no notion of buying it. They didn't agree and reminded me that shopping was not just about things that you were going to buy; it was the experience rather than the purchasing. They both assured me they had spent many a shopping trip trying on things that they had no intention of buying and hinted that what I had done was just another sign of my continuing adjustment to femininity. This suggestion would have probably embarrassed me or made me feel uncomfortable just even a week previously, but now it didn't really bother me, in fact it pleased me.

----------*----------

Of course, with it being Friday night, it was ballroom dancing night again and so we all went to get ready. I showered and changed into my black jersey dress with the white panel around the waist. I decided to be a little more adventurous and selected my shoes with the platform heels to see how I would manage dancing in them. I wore my new silver chain and bracelet. I wished I could put on my new earrings but Beth had advised me to leave it another week or two to ensure the holes had healed properly.

On the journey in, Jools and Beth were surprisingly subdued and made little mention of the dancing to come and didn't mention Paul at all. I realised they were deliberately avoiding the subject to try not to upset me or offend me. Whilst I didn't think it was really warranted, I was touched nonetheless. When we arrived, I didn't have to worry about looking out for Paul, because he was waiting inside the door of the civic centre and his face lit up when he saw me.

"Cara, you look even lovelier than ever," he said as he offered me his arm before we headed up the stairs.

I slipped my arm inside his, "Thank you Paul. You look very dapper yourself."

He was casually dressed but by no means sloppily so. An open necked pale lemon shirt and a smart pair of black slacks. He was clean shaven and smelled of freshly applied aftershave. I felt my heart quicken a little and was almost annoyed at my body as I felt it was betraying me unfairly so.

Tonight, Freddy informed us, we would move on to learn a new dance: the foxtrot. He explained the steps and then demonstrated them before inviting us all to the floor. I murmured to Paul, "Please tell me you know how to do this."

He chuckled, "Yes, I've done it a few times before. Just remember it's slow-quick-quick"

I had the feeling he was again being modest and I was soon proven right. It took me longer to get the hang of the steps compared to the waltz, but Paul kept me right. I did stand on his toes a few times and apologised but he didn't seem to mind.

As I became more familiar with the steps and was able to relax somewhat, we began to chat. He asked about my love of music and I told him about how I had grown up with music and had spent nearly all of my younger days singing and playing. I stuck to the truth but just replaced Nick with Cara when recounting my experiences.

I asked him about himself and he told me about growing up in Plymouth, going to university. He was an Oxford graduate and I was very impressed. He played it down though and said it meant little in the grand scheme of things. I was still impressed. He told me about his father's firm and trying to live up to his expectations and how his father had always intended for him to take over the firm.

I sympathised and explained a little of my parent's disappointment in my not getting a 'proper job' as they called it. He expressed his disbelief of how my parents could have any disappointment in having such a beautiful daughter. Outwardly I laughed, but inwardly I felt the sudden anxiety of remembering that my parents had no idea that they now even had a second 'daughter'. However, I put it out of my mind and enjoyed the conversation and the dancing.

At the end of the evening, Paul looked a little unhappy. "What's wrong Paul?" I asked.

He sighed, "I'm not going to be here next week for the classes. I've to go to a legal conference in Liverpool for the week and won't be back 'til late next Friday evening."

I was disappointed and although it must have shown in my face, I tried to hide it as best as I could. "Oh well, can't be helped," I tried to say brightly.

He smiled at me, "Give me the choice of a dull conference in Liverpool or the pleasure of your company, I know which I'd prefer."

I squeezed his hand, "Thanks Paul." Then I winked, "Ah well, you never know, maybe I'll find a better replacement next week while you are away."

I was only joking and he knew it, but he looked into my eyes seriously and said, "Promise me you won't find a permanent replacement?"

I looked up at him, "Paul, of course not. I was only joking. I'll get a partner somehow next week, but I promise not to enjoy it."

He laughed and then looked like he wanted to say more, but hesitated. I squeezed his hand again, "What is it?"

He smiled awkwardly, "Well. It's just that, Freddy is going to announce next week that tickets are on sale for the annual ballroom dancing society's dinner dance. It's on Friday 20th in the town hall." His voice trailed off.

I smiled encouragingly at him. "And?" I coaxed.

He gave a little self-conscious cough before continuing, "Well, I've managed to get two tickets out of him and wondered well, if you'd like to come along with me?"

I smiled, "Of course I would. That sounds wonderful."

His face brightened and he shook his head a little, "This is terrible, I'm behaving like an adolescent schoolboy all over again."

I laughed, "Thank you for asking Paul. I'm looking forward to it already."

He grinned like a cat that got the cream and took my arm as he walked me downstairs to the door. "See you Tuesday week," he said. He slowly let go of my arm as if he didn't really want to and I smiled and waved at him.

The car journey home was unnaturally quiet. Halfway home I couldn't bear it any longer. "Alright girls, enough is enough. Stop pussyfooting around me. I'm not going to break down if you say anything. I had a lovely time with Paul tonight, I really enjoyed the dancing. He didn't kiss me, but he did ask me to the annual dinner dance."

That got them going and they ooh'ed and ahh'ed.

"He did?"

"Really?"

"Wow?"

I laughed, "Are you two going?" They shrugged and shook their heads.

Jools replied, "No don't think so. My partner's OK, but I don't think I really want to go. Besides he hasn't asked. Not that that would bother me, if I wanted to go, I'd ask him to take me." I believed her.

Beth shrugged, "Kevin asked me to go, but I really wasn't fussed, so I made some excuse. Oh Cara! What are you going to wear?"

"Umm, I hadn't thought about that."

Jools grinned at Beth, "Leave it to us, we'll sort you out. It's a formal dance did you know that?"

I smiled, "Well I guess I didn't think about it, I don't really know anything more about it except when it is and that I'm going with Paul."

We all laughed and some of the recent tension evaporated.

----------*----------

Saturday afternoon inspiration returned. I was extremely relieved as it had been a most unfruitful week musically speaking. That morning after aerobics and breakfast, Beth, Jools and I had taken a good long walk across the estate. Mainly because it was a beautiful clear winter's morning, but also for Beth to watch my deportment and walking whilst she walked behind Jools and I. I had relished the biting cold on my cheeks and the beauty of the morning and just enjoyed chatting about this and that with Jools as we walked. I was almost in stitches laughing at her stories of the auditions that some of her clients had been to that week. Jools knew how to tell a funny story.

Anyway, over lunch I had an idea begin to niggle in my head. I excused myself when we were finished eating and went to the music room and grabbed the guitar. This one was coming out on the guitar I felt. I strummed a few fast tempo half-muffled low chords and began to hum to myself. I soon had a verse and then led that into a full power chord chorus. This was an unashamed rocky number. It was loud, brash and it was fun.

The lyrics began to form. I began to crystallise the theme of the song in my mind and got the title: 'Living life in colour'. I guess this was arising out of my recent musings about how full my life had seemed recently in comparison to previous months. The verse was a semi-subdued reflection of previous dull days which exploded into a chorus celebrating the fullness and joy of life. The idea was moving from the black and white days of empty living to the full colour life of seizing the day. Or something like that.

It wasn't musically challenging or demanding. Five chords did it all, but it was the spirit and energy of it that made it a song I was pleased with. So now I had three decent songs. More needed.

----------*----------

After breakfast on Sunday I hurried back up to my room and got changed into my grey jacket and skirt suit with the white blouse that I had bought the other day. I added just the faintest hint of subtle make-up, brushed my hair and headed back downstairs. I met the girls in the hall and they did a double take as they looked at me.

"Wow, smart," said Jools.

"When did you get that outfit?" asked Beth.

"What are you dressed up for?" asked Jools.

I smiled sweetly, "I bought it on Friday, and as if it wasn't obvious, I'm dressed for Church."

They laughed. "Well, I think you look perfectly virginal," said Jools with a wink. "Are you sure you want to go?"

I nodded, "Oh yes, I think if I don't go this week, Mabel will start to lay hands on me and pray over me at lunch."

We headed out laughing and met Mabel just outside the door which provoked another round of giggles.

"Now what're you girls all gee-heeing about?" She noticed me, "Ah Miss Cara, now don't you just look lovely. Far more suitable and pleasing attire and oi'm delighted to see you heading out for morning worship."

Seaton Parish Church was a traditional old Anglican Church, but the vicar was a young fair-haired man in his early thirties. He welcomed me at the door with a smile and a warm handshake and Beth and Jools introduced me.

The service was in keeping with the building: traditional. It followed the standard liturgy. Although I was brought up to go to Church, this was quite different from the Methodist Church. But I quite enjoyed it. Jools and Beth kept me right on where we were in the Book of Common Prayer as I got lost fairly easily.

The message was on the parable of the talents and the main point was that we should be a good steward of the gifts that God has given us. I felt it was quite appropriate but decided not to tell the Reverend on the way out that I was following his advice by changing from a man into a woman in order to better use my talents.

I did feel a little uncomfortable if I let my mind slip to the fact that I was a man dressed as a woman in Church. It made me feel a little hypocritical, but I put the thoughts from my mind. Especially as thinking in such a way tended to lead to thinking about my parents.

Mabel was in great form at lunch and I think I did my relationship with her no end of good as I recounted the message to her and how I felt I could apply it. Leaving out the bit about changing gender of course.

----------*----------

The rest of Sunday was quiet and relaxing and the next week began in what had been the usual pattern developed over the past fortnight. Exercise in the mornings and Beth was really starting to push us harder. I actually found myself looking forward to the morning sessions, once I had managed to get myself out of bed that was. Training and practice then with Beth which was becoming almost dull and routine. She said that was good as it meant it was getting into my subconscious.

Interestingly, one morning that week she got me to put on my training shoes, obviously no heels, and told me to walk like a man. I walked normally without thinking and turned to face her. With a large smile on her face she informed me that I had walked almost as femininely as I had been doing before, swinging my hips a little too. I actually had to concentrate hard to make myself walk with a male gait. I guessed her training was paying off.

I was now very much au fait with current fashions, hairstyles and cosmetics. I could easily style my hair into a number of simple different looks and was very competent making myself up for any number of different occasions. My mannerisms and vocal inflections were now almost always exclusively feminine. Beth would have me sit and stand, walk and talk, gesture and posture -- all in front of the mirrored wall in the music room. She made me watch myself and I had to confess that all I saw was an attractive feminine woman. I was pleased. I think she knew it, but I didn't admit it openly.

In the afternoons, I spent my time as usual either on the piano or the guitar. When inspiration was lacking, I hooked up all my equipment and with my keyboard, sequencer and four-track I laid down some tracks for the three songs I had completed so far.

That week produced another song: an almost classical piano introduction leading into a sweetly subdued melodic verse. It had almost a swing sort of jazz feel to it and I had written it in 6:8 time. I knew that guitarists, drummers and basically any non-classically trained musicians would grumble about that. In my head I could hear a brass ensemble coming in during the chorus. A real swinging big band feel. It was quite different to the other songs I had written, but I always strove to make my compositions cover a wide variety of styles. I didn't believe in repeating one formula over and over again.

I couldn't seem to get away from autobiographical type lyrics though. I guess I was experiencing so many new feelings and sensations that it was only natural for it to overflow into song. It was more real than a lot of stuff I had written in the past. I guess 'Nick's' life had got into such a rut that at that time I was always looking outside myself to the world around for lyrical inspiration. Not necessarily a bad thing, but these songs that I was now writing were coming from the heart. I entitled the song, 'I just wanna be me'. It was almost a tongue-in-cheek song, it was fun, ironic and not one for taking oneself seriously in. I enjoyed it. I laid down some backing tracks and then I took the microphone: this was one I had to sing with microphone in hand and the freedom of movement that it gave me. I faced the mirror and began.

"Feelin' the weight of others' expectations,
Pushing me down, pressing around me,
Building into disappointments, anger and frustrations,
Why oh why can't they understand and see.

I don't wanna be somebody elses' puppet,
Don't wanna have to say yes and always agree,
You're squeezing me, smothering me -- why don't you just stop it
Cos I just wanna be me.
I'm dreamin' my own dreams, not fulfilling yours,
I'm throwing off the bonds, I'm gonna be free,
I'm releasing my true spirit, a spirit that endures
Cos I just wanna be me."

I vamped it up and ended with this real pouty look on my face. I could only hold it for a moment though before I cracked, grinned and actually giggled. This was so different to anything I had written before but I loved it. Four songs and counting.

----------*----------

I have to admit that I didn't enjoy the dancing as much that week. I missed Paul. For a number or reasons that I rationalised: he was a great dancer and made it seem so easy, we got on well together and I had already sort of got to know him.

Instead of waiting to get the dregs of the class, on both occasions I was proactive. As soon as Freddy called us to the floor, each time I went and asked fairly normal looking guys if they wanted to partner me. They looked a bit surprised to be asked but didn't turn me down. The dancing was OK, neither of my 'stand-in' partners were anywhere near as good as Paul. At dancing I mean. There was a fair bit of stepping on toes and apologising on both sides.

Freddy made us revise the Foxtrot and at the end of Tuesday's class and for most of Friday's class we learnt the Quickstep. 'Slow-quick-quick' I would say into myself over and over again as I had to concentrate a lot harder than previous times. At the end of each evening I civilly thanked my dance partner and made my excuses as soon as possible.

I looked forward to the following Tuesday's class when Paul would be back. And next Friday. The dinner dance. When I pushed the girls for some help with regard to a suitable dress, they just laughed, winked and told me they had it in hand and not to worry. I worried more.

----------*----------

I had been putting it off, but that weekend I decided I needed to touch base at home. I took my mobile phone and went to my room. I sat on the bed and practised my voice for quite some time before phoning. Not Cara's voice. That was coming all too naturally by now. I found it hard to find 'Nick's' voice. I got a passable attempt and dialled the number. I thought I was going to throw up. Even though it was just a phone call I felt sure I would give myself away.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mum."

"Claire?"

"No, it's me....Nick." That felt strange.

"Nicholas honey! How are you? What's wrong with your voice? Are you sick?"

"Erm, maybe my throat feels a little funny I guess but I'm OK. How are you and Dad?"

"Oh we're grand, you're father is as busy as ever. So much for winding down towards retirement. So what you are you up to?"

"Oh you know, trying to write some more songs."

A pause. "Well, how's it going?" She tried to sound encouraging.

"Pretty good actually, I think I'm getting some good material."

"That's good dear." My mother was used to my cycles of writing, hope, demo submission and rejection. She was used to me thinking that next time would be different. But she hid her reticence as well as she could.

"So Nicholas, I presume you'll be here for Christmas."

I swallowed, "Erm yes, I think so. Unless I get a better offer."

She laughed, "Well I'll take that as a yes then. When should we expect you?"

I felt a cold sweat on my forehead, "Well, I guess I'll travel up to Claire's on the 23rd late on and stay over with her and then we'll both head up to you on Christmas Eve."

"That's great honey. It's just over a week away. It's been too long," she chided.

"I know Mum, I'm sorry. I'm just sort of focussed and preoccupied right now." If only she knew!

"Are you sure you are alright dear, you really do sound quite strange?"

"I'm fine Mum, listen I'd better head on. Love you."

"I love you too son, take care and God bless."

"Bye."

I broke the connection and set the phone down on my bed and then lay back myself. I was almost shaking. I had no idea how I was going to face my family or what I was going to say to them. I had a bad feeling about it.

----------*----------

CHAPTER 7

I kept Mabel happy again on Sunday by once again going to Church with the girls. Although it was strange, it was sort of comforting to go to Church after such a long time away from it in recent years. I felt quite at home at Silsbury Manor and when Monday came it was with a certain sadness that I realised I was beginning my last week of my stay. It was the 16th December. Actually when I thought about it, I really became quite emotional and over breakfast I was quite teary. I got lots of hugs and sympathy from the girls, well mainly Beth. It wasn't quite Jools' sort of thing.

"Why am I getting on like this? I feel mortified sitting blubbing like this, I don't understand it," I said trying to make light of it.

Jools looked at Beth knowingly and then looked at me. She said softly, "Cara dear, hormones."

I looked at her and realisation hit me. "Oh you mean...that this is because of...is this normal?" I wrinkled my brow.

They both laughed and Jools replied, "Yes dear, it's perfectly understandable. You're now onto your 4th week of hormones and this week's pills are mainly progestagens. You are suffering a relative deficit of oestrogen this week compared to previous weeks."

"Why are they made like that?" I puzzled.

Jools smiled and raised her eyebrows, "Well, it is a 4 week cycle..." She let her voice trail off.

"Oh," was all I said.

Beth and Jools smirked.

"Erm," I began hesitantly, "please tell me that I don't have PMS?"

They laughed. I couldn't help but join in too.

Beth and I maintained our usual routine in the mornings and she herself began to admit that she didn't really see much point in continuing as she felt I had learnt practically all she needed to teach me. However paradoxically it was me this week who wanted to keep going. Perhaps it was the fear of going back to the real world after this week that drove me on. I just wanted to make sure I didn't do anything to give myself away.

----------*----------

When Tuesday evening approached, I couldn't hide my anticipation about going dancing again and the girls sensed it and gently teased me about it. I didn't care. I was looking forward to it. I wore a black velvet top, a red skirt that came to just above the knee and black stockings. Also tonight I decided to give my high heels a go and see how I managed dancing in them. I took an inordinately long time doing my hair and makeup but thankfully I had started early so I don't think Jools and Beth realised. At last, satisfied with my appearance, I headed downstairs and we headed into Plymouth.

Paul was again waiting just inside the door and I was quite surprised at how pleased I was to see him. He seemed quite pleased to see me too. He gave me his arm and we walked up the stairs.

"How was the conference?" I asked.

He groaned, "Oh it was stultifyingly boring. But then it usually is." He grinned at me and winked, "I couldn't stop thinking about you Cara."

I squeezed his arm, "Oh you. Stop being such a tease."

He smiled and said softly, "Well, I did think about you a lot. And if I may say so, you look absolutely beautiful this evening. Did you miss me last week?"

I laughed, "Oh I think I can safely say that I did. My stand-in partners did not match up to your suave brilliance on the dance floor."

He grinned, "So that's all you missed: my dancing?" He raised an eyebrow.

I felt myself colour a little, "Alright well they weren't quite as charming or as devastatingly handsome as you." I gave a little wink to try and make the comment as light-hearted as possible. He smiled at me and this time it was his turn to flush.

Freddy started us off with a revision of the Quickstep. Although when I say revision, this week's quickstep bore little resemblance to last week's. Paul guided me expertly and it was a joy to relax in his arms and be led around the floor. I didn't have to concentrate as much and could just enjoy the experience.

Towards the end of the night as this was the last official beginner's class of this session, Freddy gave us a selection of different dances in succession: Waltz, Viennese Waltz, Foxtrot and Quickstep. He complimented us all on how much we had learned and gave us a last reminder about the dinner dance on Friday. We applauded him and all thanked him for his time and patient instruction.

At the end, Paul guided me off the dance floor, his arm around my shoulders. It felt nice, I felt secure. It was strange. I was about to get ready to go and find Jools and Beth when he took me by the hand.

"Cara, why don't we go and grab a coffee somewhere?"

I swallowed and felt my heart lurch into my mouth, "Erm, well I don't have any transport, I was going to get home with my friends."

He shrugged, "I'll leave you back, it's no problem."

I was in a quandary and didn't know what to do or say. Why wouldn't I go? What did I want to do? It was only coffee after all. But it seemed like crossing an imperceptible line. A guy essentially asking me out. When I thought about it, I was going to the dinner dance with him on Friday so what was the big deal. I shrugged.

"OK sure, that would be lovely Paul. Just let me tell Jools and Beth."

I strolled over to them and told them my plans. They smiled at me.

"Are you sure you'll be OK?" Beth asked.

I laughed, "Yes I'll be fine. I'll see you both later."

When we got outside, Paul put his arm around my shoulders again and it seemed only natural to slip my arm around his waist. We walked around the corner and down the street to a warm cosy looking coffee shop called 'Café Rosso'. Inside there was a coal fire burning in the grate and there was a comfy sofa nearby which Paul guided me to. I took off my coat and sat down. It was lovely to warm up in comfort, as it was a fairly chilly night outside.

Paul sat down beside me and casually slipped his arm around my shoulders again. I looked over at him and smiled. I think I must have looked a little nervous or something, because he shifted in his seat and softly said, "I'm sorry, do you want me to take my arm away?"

I didn't really. It felt nice. I shook my head, "No Paul, please don't." I settled down into the sofa and actually shifted over a bit towards him. He pulled me close 'til our bodies were touching. I felt sure he would be able to feel my heartbeat, which was currently racing. I wasn't exactly sure what was happening. I remembered the girls' warnings about Paul falling for me. But what could I do? I liked him. Was it more than that? I didn't know. I didn't think so. Yes I liked the attention, I mean I really liked it. But was there anything more to it?

A waitress came over and took our order: a latte for me and an espresso for Paul. Just as she was leaving she said, "My, don't you two lovebirds look so comfortable snuggled there together."

I was sure my cheeks must have been crimson. I looked up at Paul and forced a little laugh, "Lovebirds." I tried to pass it off.

He looked down at me and smiled, "Cara, I wish."

I sighed and bit my lower lip. He gently placed a hand on my right leg. Not threateningly in any way. "Cara," he began, "you really are an incredible woman. Over the last few weeks as I've got to know you, I just can't get you out of my mind. There really is something special about you. I can't put my finger on it. I mean obviously you are extremely physically attractive, but you have a certain aura about you which is hard to define."

I felt very uncomfortable now. I rested my hand on top of his. "Paul," I began hesitantly, "I am very flattered by what you say. Truly I am." I paused. What could I say? "I've really enjoyed getting to know you too. You are very dear to me, and as attractive as I find you, our paths are going to go separate ways."

He sighed, "I know. Do you have to leave?"

I nodded, "Yes, I do. My time down here has been so special and I will never forget it. But life goes on and there are things I have to do."

He nodded, "I figured as much." He looked at me almost wistfully, "If things had been different, do you think you and I could have made something of it?"

I smiled, "If things had been different yes I am sure we could." Yes, if I was really a girl and yes if I was sexually attracted to men. Which I'm not. I was fairly sure of that. Or at least I told myself that.

We drank our coffee and chatted and laughed together and after about an hour, we walked arm in arm back to Paul's car.

"You drive a porsche?" I said lightly running my hand over the silver metal.

He shrugged semi-apologetically.

I grinned and winked, "Paul, heck why didn't you say so earlier? This could have changed everything, I'd have given up all my plans and agreed to stay."

He laughed as we got in and drove off, "Ah you see, you're just like all the rest, in love with my car and not with me."

When we arrived at Silsbury Manor and pulled up outside the house, he got out of the car and walked me up to the door. He took my hands in his and looked into my eyes. There seemed to be some sadness there.

"I can't wait until Friday Cara, let's have a great night together."

"Yes, that sounds wonderful," I replied.

Then he slowly leaned forward and gently gave me a light kiss on the lips, "Goodnight Miss Malone, I'll pick you up at 7 p.m. on Friday." He turned and walked back down to his car. I went inside and closed the door. I wasn't sure how I felt. Inside I was a mixture of whirling emotions. I didn't think I could face the inquest from the girls so I just headed up to my room and got ready for bed.

As I lay there in the dark, my mind was reeling as I replayed the evening's events over and over again. I really did feel a lot for Paul. I had grown to like him a lot and looked forward to the times I spent in his company. Was this what being attracted to a man was like? I didn't think so. I still felt that it was women that I was attracted to. Not that that was going to be helpful given my current appearance. I put my mixed feelings down to the hormones that were undoubtedly ravaging my body and also due to the changes I had been going through over the last four weeks.

----------*----------

All through my 'training' session with Beth on Wednesday morning, I was itching to get to the piano. I felt a song inside me and wanted to get it out. After lunch, I sat down at the piano and began to play.

It was very much a slow ballad. The lyrical idea was in my head and I knew where it had come from. I felt a little uncomfortable about that, but when the song is coming, just let it out and see what happens. I could hear the song in my head, slow quiet piano verse with light drums and bass joining in the chorus with a slightly distorted solo lead guitar line. I sketched out the words that were in my mind.

When I had finished I just sat there for a moment. It was a moving song. Yet I felt almost uncomfortable having written it. But it was good, or at least I thought so. I entitled it 'Not dancing, but flying'. I played it through:

"Touch my shoulder and take my hand,
And lead me out to dance,
As you take me in your arms,
It's like I fall into a trance:

When I'm in your arms and you hold me tight,
There's no place for tears or crying,
As we dance and move across the floor,
I want to hold you closer more and more,
But now I know even after this last night,
When I'm with you: I'm not dancing...I'm flying.

Never felt this way before,
Never knew it would be like this,
To feel like I'm opening a door,
To feel like it's my first kiss:

When I'm in your arms and you hold me tight,
There's no place for tears or crying,
As we dance and move across the floor,
I want to hold you closer more and more,
But now I know even after this last night,
When I'm with you: I'm not dancing...I'm flying."

And then I moved into the bridge, in which I upped the tempo, and the vocal moved up in pitch and intensity. I could imagine the drums picking up, and the guitar squealing melancholically:

"But why is that life can snatch away,
A joy almost before it's born,
For when the night is done and tomorrow comes,
One of us will be gone:

When I'm in your arms and you hold me tight,
There's no place for tears or crying,
As we dance and move across the floor,
I want to hold you closer more and more,
But now I know even after this last night,
When I'm with you: I'm not dancing...I'm flying,

And whenever I will think or dream of you,
We're not dancing, but flying."

I stopped and drew breath. It was a bit of an emotional roller coaster this one. But it had to come out. And yes, for artistic licence purposes, I felt I had over interpreted the reality. Or had I? It was cathartic to write it and sing it. But it was very strange, because essentially I had just written my first love song about a man.

It was a love song granted, but did the song really mirror the truth. I didn't really think so. It was born out of an intensity of new emotions and new circumstances. Though I didn't feel that denigrated the song's worth. I left the music room, grabbed my coat and went to get a breath of fresh air outside. Five songs.

----------*----------

Over breakfast on Thursday I tackled the girls about what was happening regarding a dress for me for Friday night's dance. They tried to stall me again but I was having none of it this time.

"I'm not dropping the subject until you tell me what the plan is. Otherwise, I'm going right into town this instant and sorting myself out with something." I sort of stamped my foot and put my hands on my hips indignantly.

They both sniggered but eventually relented. "Alright," said Jools reluctantly, "shall we show her Beth?"

Beth nodded, "I think so. She's a stubborn one this girl."

Jools took me by the hand and led me upstairs. Just outside her room, she made me close my eyes; she led me in and then told me to open them. I gasped and my hand flung to my mouth. For there, hanging on Jools' closet door was the black dress I had tried on in town.

"I don't believe it!" I exclaimed. "But how is this here? What? I don't understand."

Beth giggled and took my hand, "Cara dear, consider this a Christmas present from Jools and I. I think you will enjoy it."

I don't know why, but for the second time that week I cried. I felt the tears welling up and I tried to stem the flow. I was fairly disgusted with myself, but I was glad I hadn't put my makeup on yet. I bit my lower lip and tried to get control before speaking.

"But you shouldn't have, I mean I know how horrendously expensive this is."

Jools waved a hand, "Rubbish, it's only what you deserve. You've been through so much the past few weeks, you totally deserve it. And we both wanted to get it for you."

"How did you know my size?" I wondered.

Beth grinned guiltily, "Well after you told us about seeing the dress, we got this idea and the next morning Jools nipped into town and the shop assistant remembered this black haired beauty who had tried the dress on. Not many people have tried it on, so she remembered which size she gave you."

I smiled and gave them both a big hug and kiss on the cheek. "I love you both," I said and tried not to cry again. We had a big group hug. But eventually Jools broke the hug.

"Enough!" she said, "I have to see how this dress looks on you."

I feigned a shrug, "Oh I don't know, maybe I'll try it on later." But by the looks they gave me, I knew they didn't buy it for an instant. I laughed, "Oh alright, I'm dying to try it on again too."

It fit me absolutely perfectly, just like it had in the shop. I revelled in the sensation of the satin skirt whirling around me as I moved. I realised that I would have to be quite careful when I sat down as the slits could reveal a lot more leg than a lady should. I applied my makeup and brushed out my hair. I had made Jools and Beth wait outside my room until I was ready to show them. I heard Jools complaining outside the door. "C'mon Cara, stop being such a woman -- you're taking ages in there."

At last, I was happy with my appearance. I was wearing black sheer silk stockings and my 4-inch high heels. I had managed to dance fairly well in them the other night so I figured they were the only shoes for this outfit. I opened the door and struck a pose. In an affected low sultry voice I said with a coquettish smile, "Worth waiting for ladies?"

I saw their eyes widen. Jools slowly shook her head and Beth gave a low whistle. Beth protested, "It really isn't fair. No-one should be allowed to be that beautiful and sexy. I'm jealous."

"Me too," murmured Jools, but I could see a look in her eyes. It looked like pride. "You look absolutely ravishing Cara. I'm so happy for you."

I smiled, "Thank you."

Beth looked at me seriously, "How does it feel to be... I mean for you to realise that you not only look like a woman, but a totally stunning woman at that."

I paused. I felt a little uncomfortable at her questioning. Jools noticed and tried to butt in, "C'mon Beth, don't put her on the spot like that."

I raised a hand. "No it's OK Jools. How does it feel?" I mused. After a moment I gave a little smile, "It feels good. It feels really good."

Beth smiled and squeezed my arm, "You really mean that? I mean I see you looking fabulous, in every way a lovely woman, and I just worry about how you really are inside."

Beth truly was a lovely caring person. She was different to her sister. Jools was fantastic: driven, ambitious, fun, compassionate yes, but Beth had a real tender heart.

I squeezed Beth's arm in return, "Don't worry." I paused, "I'm not pretending it's a walk in the park. I'm not saying it's easy and I know there are potentially very difficult times ahead." I swallowed, "But these past few weeks have been some of the happiest weeks of my life. Maybe that's just the wonderful company and friendship I've enjoyed. But I think I have to admit that I like who I've become and there's something intoxicating about being attractive and desirable." I tried to make a joke and lighten the mood, "I mean for the first time in my life, I am actually almost sexy."

Jools laughed and snorted, "Almost sexy? Darling, I hate to tell you but looking at you right now, you are the complete personification of sexy."

We all laughed. It was with some regret that I hung my lovely dress up in my closet and got changed.

----------*----------

I spent Thursday afternoon and Friday morning polishing up the last two songs I had written and laying down some backing tracks. For 'Not dancing, but flying' I laid down some nice strings tracks. It sounded good.

It wasn't easy to sing. Not that it was particularly vocally challenging. Not at all. My female vocal had got stronger and stronger over the past few weeks and it now seemed like second nature. Rather it was the words that were hard to sing. But I knew it was good.

It was another expression of the me that I had become. That I was becoming. Beth had had to go into her salon on Friday morning to sort some things out. This gave me time to work on the songs in the morning. I wanted to start getting ready early on Friday afternoon for the dance and Beth had promised to help me.

I spent an obscene length of time in a warm scented bubbly bath and then washed and conditioned my hair. I was sitting in my robe combing my wet hair when Beth knocked on the door and came in. She proceeded to take over and helped me blow dry my hair. She added hairspray here, there and everywhere. She said she wanted to give my hair real body tonight. When it was dry, she began to sweep it up on top of my head and added pins at strategic places. Next she tied pieces of rag into my hair at the sides winding my hair around them and then sprayed with hair spray again. I was a bit puzzled, but she assured me she knew what she was doing. I believed her.

She had brought a portable electrolysis kit home from the salon and proceeded to give my face another treatment. It really didn't take too long as there was hardly any remaining hair. She felt that I wouldn't need any more treatments from now on. She also persuaded me into letting her wax my legs again to ensure I was perfectly smooth. It was extremely painful yet again. I had not had any significant growth of body hair anywhere else since the first waxing.

She took an inordinate amount of time over my makeup. The foundation was expertly blended in. She went for a more dramatic look with my eye makeup. I thought she was going overboard with the dark black eyeliner, but I kept my peace. The eye shadow was more defined than ever before. I also thought my eyelashes were going to break with the amount of mascara she was adding. But the result was perfectly teased out prominent black lashes. She carefully highlighted my cheek bones with rouge and then began to work on my lips. She added lip liner first and then applied ruby red lipstick with a brush. She painted my lips expertly and then, after getting me to blot them, added a coat of lip gloss. She painted my fingernails in the same bright shade of red.

As I looked at my face, I had to admit that she did indeed know what she doing. The effect was quite striking. Although I was wearing a lot of makeup, for an evening dance she assured me it was perfect. It certainly looked it.

Beth managed to squeeze another inch or two off my waist by viciously tightening my corset for me. Although I wanted to complain, I didn't really mind. Paradoxical I know. She removed the tied in rags from my hair and I realised what she was striving for. Most of my long hair was swept up at the back on top of my head, but cascading down each side of my face were curly ringlets. It looked amazing, even though I say so myself.

I slid my legs into my stockings and then Beth helped me into my dress and zipped it up at the back. I slipped my feet into my high heels. I added my new silver necklace and bracelet. I really wanted to wear the new silver drop earrings that I had bought and Beth assured me that since it was now four weeks since I had had my ears pierced, there should be no problem. I gingerly removed the hoops from the lower holes in my ears. I gently worked my new earrings in. Beth was right, the holes had healed and there was no problem.

Another sign of how many obstacles there would be to me reverting to my old self. If that was what I wanted. Right now, I couldn't imagine that. Beth carefully spritzed me with perfume in strategic locations and left me to gather myself as it was nearly seven p.m.

Ready at last and now that I was alone, I checked out the full picture in the mirror. I was completely overwhelmed. If when I was Nick, I had seen a woman looking like I did right now, I think I would have been flabbergasted and overcome with desire. In some senses I was still overcome with desire. Desire to keep looking like a beautiful woman.

It really was quite amazing. Prior to the last four weeks, I had never had any thoughts of myself as a woman. I had never tried on women's clothing before. Had this been latent inside me all these years? It just felt so right at present.

My reverie was interrupted by Jools shouting up the stairs, "Cara, he's coming, I've just buzzed him in the main gates."

I felt my heart rise into my mouth and with a last look in the mirror, I went downstairs. Jools' eyes nearly popped out of her head, "My God, you look awesome!" Then she shook her head and refocused, "But what are you doing down already?"

I shrugged, "You called me and I'm ready."

She shook her head again, "No, you are never ready before the man arrives. You want to keep him waiting a few moments so he realises how worth waiting for, you are. So shoo!"

I grinned and headed back upstairs. I heard the doorbell ring. After a moment, Jools opened it and I heard her greet Paul. "Cara, Paul's here," she called up the stairs to me.

"Just a moment, I'm almost ready," I called down. I was standing at the top of the stairs completely ready, but made myself count to 200 before even thinking about moving. I heard Jools and Paul making polite conversation and eventually I slowly and gracefully descended the stairs. Paul was in mid sentence saying something to Jools when he spotted me. He stopped speaking and fixed his eyes on me as I walked slowly down the last few steps.

"Hi Paul," I said suddenly feeling quite shy. He just stood and stared at me, his mouth open. He didn't speak. "Erm Paul, are you OK?" I asked.

He shook his head slowly before speaking with a little smile on his face, "I don't think so. I think I've died and gone to heaven. Heavens above Cara, you look absolutely wonderful...I don't think I can find the words to do you justice."

I blushed from head to toe and looked away for a moment, feeling very self-conscious. I saw Jools slinking away, leaving us alone just inside the door. I smiled at Paul and walked up to him. I reached up to straighten his bow tie. He was wearing a brilliant white dress shirt and an immaculate perfect fitting tux which he filled out completely. "You don't look half bad yourself," I said, "I would almost think that tux had been designed and tailored for you alone."

He laughed and smiled down at me, "It was. But you, I mean,...wow!"

I laughed and gave him a little poke, "Now stop that, you're embarrassing me."

He winked at me and said, "I don't think I'm fit to drive tonight."

I humoured him, "OK why not?"

"Well I won't be able to watch the road as for this whole evening I'll be unable to tear my eyes away from you."

I laughed and poked him again, harder this time, "Oh you! Now come on, are we going dancing or not?"

"We certainly are," he said with a flourish which led to a bow and him taking my hand and placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. He stood up straight and offered me his arm. I couldn't help but giggle as he helped me on with my jacket and led me out of the door. He held open the door of the Porsche for me and I was extra careful to preserve my dignity as I got in, making sure none of the slits in my dress exposed me. Despite my best efforts, I think Paul got a more than generous glance at my stocking clad leg and thigh. I heard him give a low appreciative whistle as he closed the door. As we drove into Plymouth he kept looking over at me.

"Keep your eyes on the road driver," I admonished with mock severity. I couldn't help myself. I was very naughty but couldn't resist crossing and uncrossing my ankles and in the process letting one of the slits expose my legs again. I made a fuss of rearranging my dress immediately, but I knew that he saw. I felt deliciously mischievous.

"Cara, you are a tease!" he protested.

"Moi?" I exclaimed raising a hand to my chest, "Dear sir, you dost wound me."

He laughed, "But as I'm the luckiest man in the country tonight, I'll forgive you this once."

We arrived at the town hall and again he insisted on getting the car door for me. This time getting out of the car, I took extra care in preventing myself from indecent exposure as there were a fair number of people in the car park. I slipped my arm inside his and we went inside. As we ascended the front steps he murmured to me, "Oh I think I should probably warn you, the table we are at, will have a few people from my work at it. And well, that includes my parents."

"Paul!" I hissed, "That's terrible. Oh my goodness, talk about pressure. What have you told them?"

He smiled and patted my hand, "Only that I'm bringing along the most beautiful and delightful woman I have ever met and that I am sure they will approve of you."

"I think I feel sick," I moaned.

"Oh now come on, it won't be that bad. My parents are nice people. Well alright, my mother will probably be making less than subtle comments about marriage and the like. She is ever hopeful that her eldest son will settle down with a nice girl. And my colleagues are likely to do a bit of teasing, but apart from that, it will be fine."

"I definitely feel sick now!" I thought to myself that his poor mother would probably be horrified if she knew the truth about the 'nice girl' cavorting with her son. But then again, so probably would Paul himself. I sighed and took a deep breath and just tried to be as natural as I could.

The main hall was festively decorated and there was a large Christmas tree in one corner. Tables were laid out around the sides of the hall, leaving a large dance floor in the middle. There were a lot of people already here and the buzz of conversation made the place seem alive. We made our way to our assigned table and most people were already there and seated. When we arrived the men stood up.

I spotted Paul's father before anyone made any introductions. He was a handsome man, probably in his late fifties and looked like Paul. He had dark hair with silver streaks through it. He walked over, shook Paul's hand and turning to me, but speaking to Paul said, "So this must be the girl that has captured your heart Paul." He turned to me with a smile, "Paul told me he was bringing a beautiful woman, but I see that not for the first time, he wasn't telling me the truth."

I blinked a few times and smiled quizzically. What was he implying? He laughed and taking my hand lightly and shaking it said, "Because his words didn't do justice to how lovely you are. You must be Cara Malone. I'm Paul's father, Ronald Davis."

I shook my head slowly and laughed softly, "Well now I can see where Paul gets his devastating charm and good looks from."

Ronald raised an eyebrow and turned to Paul, "Not only beautiful but sharp-witted too."

Before Paul could say anything, an attractive middle-aged lady joined us and interrupted, "Now Ronald, I see I'm going to have to keep you in check tonight." She turned to me and smiled, "I'm Paul's mother, Lorraine. Delighted to meet you Cara. Although I fear I'm going to have to berate my husband all night to keep his eyes off you. Now come here with me and sit beside me and let's get to know each other."

As uneasy as I felt, Lorraine was easygoing and very friendly. It was easy to talk to her and she told me about her family including the obligatory embarrassing stories about Paul in his younger days. Much to his disgust of course. He sat on the other side of me and occasionally groaned at what his mother was telling me.

As others arrived at the table, the gentlemen stood up. I almost reflexively stood, when I realised that none of the other women at the table moved. I kept my seat.

Paul introduced me to several colleagues and their wives. The women looked at me with interest, and the men looked even closer with more than interest at times. I felt as if I was on display or worse, on trial. Several of his colleagues gave Paul a hearty handshake with a wink or nod and a smile. When they thought I wasn't looking I saw a few give him the thumbs up as they nodded in my direction. I felt embarrassed yet flattered at the same time.

As dinner was served, Lorraine insisted that I tell her all about myself. I tried not to give too much away and gave her basic details about my younger days and family. She asked about what I did and I explained that I was a singer and musician. I'm not sure that this was completely well received. I got the impression that I was moving in a circle of society wives and homemakers. Nonetheless she was charming and interested and made me tell her more about my music.

The dinner was good. It was a traditional Christmas dinner. I found however, that I couldn't eat too much. It was probably a combination of the restrictive nature of my corset and the nervousness of the moment. I had deflected all attempts to refill my wineglass. And I only drank about half of the glass of red wine that I started with. I noted that Paul didn't drink any. He saw me looking, winked at me and quipped, "I'm driving and transporting far too precious a cargo tonight to even consider drinking."

As the dessert course was cleared away and the coffee was served, Lorraine leant closer to me and conspiratorially said, "So is it true that you are going back to London and won't be around for a while?"

I nodded, "I'm afraid so. I was only staying here to get some inspiration for some new songs. I'm heading back on Sunday."

"Will you be back down here again?" she asked.

I shrugged, "I'm not really sure. I guess I might be."

She sighed, "Such a shame. You know my son is looking for a wife and I have to say, of the few potentials I have met in recent years, you are by far the loveliest and the most charming."

I didn't know what to say but was spared from immediately replying by Paul's intervention. "Mum!" he groaned, "Please! Don't embarrass both Cara and me. I've told you that we're just friends."

She gave Paul a knowing look, "Yes of course dear. So pray tell, what is wrong with this lovely girl that you wouldn't consider her in such a regard."

He looked even more uncomfortable now and I was glad he was on the receiving end of the questions and not I. He sighed, "She is beautiful, charming, intelligent, witty...," he paused and then shrugged before continuing almost resignedly, "Yes you are right, there is absolutely no reason why I wouldn't harbour such feelings about her." He looked into my eyes and smiled apologetically.

Lorraine turned to me. She really was unrelenting, "So Cara my dear, what do you think of my darling son?"

I paused and then smiled, "I think Paul is one of the most handsome and wonderfully charming men I have ever had the pleasure of keeping company with." This was quite true. But it wasn't enough for her.

"So?" she said encouraging me.

I shrugged awkwardly, "Well, it's just that our lives are going in different directions at the moment..."

She sighed, "Such a shame."

Thankfully we were spared further torture as the band started and people began to get up to dance. Paul seized the moment and stood up, "Would you care to dance Cara?"

"I'd love to," I gratefully accepted and he led me to the dance floor.

As we began to waltz, Paul apologised, "Cara I'm so sorry. I must apologise for my mother. She was even worse than usual tonight. I've never seen her so bad."

I laughed, "Paul your mother is a darling. From what I can see, she just adores her son and is doing her best to fix him up. I like her."

He smiled sheepishly, "I think that I'm not the only one that she adores too. She has taken a real shine to you." He paused before admitting softly, "And she's not the only one."

"Oh Paul," I said squeezing his hand. I didn't really know what else to say. I began to relax and enjoy the dancing. From being so foreign to me a few weeks ago, it seemed so natural now. Even though I was in my near-stiletto high heels, in Paul's arms I was able to dance quite freely. We enjoyed several dances before in a brief pause, we were interrupted. It was Paul's father.

"Now Paul, don't think you are going to monopolise this beautiful young woman all night. Move aside and let me show her how to really dance."

Paul laughed and gave his father a playful punch on the shoulder, "Alright Dad, but I want her back soon you hear."

Ronald waved him off with a smile and turned to me. He bowed and said, "May I have the pleasure?"

I laughed, curtsied and replied, "Why yes indeed." It was a Foxtrot and I realised that Paul had taken after his father in another way also. His father was quite the expert dancer too. Whilst not quite as nimble on his toes as Paul, he had quite a few extravagant moves to demonstrate.

"You're a lovely girl Cara and the last few weeks I've seen Paul a lot happier, if slightly more distracted, than I've seen him in a long time. You make a lovely couple. Now that's all I'm going to say as I'm sure my wife has already said far too much."

I laughed at him and looking up blinked a few times feeling embarrassed, "Thank you."

He laughed, "Oh my. Don't look at me that way girl. Now if I was 30 years younger," he paused and winked looking over his shoulder, "...and not married..." He laughed. So did I.

Paul sent his father packing after a few dances and when we started to dance again he was curious to know what his father had said. I told him. He laughed, "The old dog!"

As much as I wanted to dance with Paul for the rest of the night, every now and then we would be interrupted as other men, mostly Paul's colleagues, asked if they could cut in. Whilst it was flattering and intoxicating to receive so much attention, I got a little tired of making pleasant talk. Most of the men were not as good dancers as the Davis' men either. And the looks that I was attracting from their wives were a little disconcerting.

Paul rescued me as soon as possible and I whispered to him, "I just want to dance with you for the rest of the night if that's OK."

He smiled tenderly at me, "Fine by me."

As the evening was coming to a close, the last dance started. It wasn't a waltz or anything I was familiar with. In fact it seemed to be a slow dance. I noticed other partners drawing closer together and I felt my heart rate quicken. Paul smiled at me and gently pulled me closer to him. I slid my arms around his neck and felt his arms encircle my waist as he pulled our bodies together. We began to slowly sway to the music. He murmured into my ear, "Cara I wish this night would never end." Then he laughed softly, "Sorry, I know how corny that sounds."

I laughed and rested my head on one of his shoulders, "I know what you mean Paul."

We danced and held each other close. It was a special moment and I didn't think about it or rationalise it. I just enjoyed it. When the music came to an end, I raised my head and Paul smiled down at me. He leant forward and gently kissed me on the forehead and said, "Thank you so much for coming with me tonight."

I smiled, "Thank you for asking me. I really enjoyed it."

We said our goodbyes and I had to promise Lorraine I would come back to Plymouth to see her. But I think she meant for me to come back and see Paul. Ronald kissed me on the cheek and winked as Lorraine gave him a slap from behind. It was only when I got into Paul's car that I realised how tired I was. And how much my feet were hurting. I lay back in the seat and kicked off my shoes and curled up a little. Paul sat for a moment just looking at me and smiling before starting the car and driving off.

----------*----------

We drove back to Silsbury Manor in comfortable silence. It wasn't awkward at all. I buzzed the gates open and Paul stopped the car in front of the house. He smiled at me and said, "You know, you still haven't made good on your promise."

I smiled back, "And what promise is that pray tell?"

"You promised to sing and play for me and I have not yet had the pleasure."

I raised an eyebrow, "I promised that? How rash of me." I paused, "Well then, I guess you had better come in and I'll make good on my promise."

It was now past midnight and I reckoned the girls were probably in bed. At least Silsbury Manor was large enough that sound was unlikely to travel. I led Paul to the music room and closed the door. Suddenly I felt shy and self-conscious. "Paul, do you really want me to sing to you, I mean I feel kind of awkward."

He took my hand, "I'd love to hear you sing, but if you really don't want to, that's OK."

How could I refuse? I sighed, smiled and sat down at the piano, taking extra care to smooth my dress. I paused for a moment. What would I play him? "Paul, what do you want me to play for you? One of my own songs? Or something you'll recognise?"

"Oh one of your own songs definitely," he replied enthusiastically as he took up a position leaning on the grand piano in front of me. I nodded and thought. Which one would I play him? Not dancing, but flying. No. I couldn't. Yet it seemed only right that he heard it first. I swallowed, took a deep breath and started in. As I played and sang, I couldn't bring myself to look at him, I tried to forget he was there and focussed on the music. I brought it to its melancholic soulful finish, "And whenever I will think or dream of you, we're not dancing, but flying."

I stopped and sat there for a moment before I could look up at him. His chin was cupped in his hand as he leant on the piano. He was looking at me intently. He didn't say anything. I felt awkward and shrugged, "Well?" I smiled unsurely.

"You're amazing," he said softly. I laughed gently and looked away, waving a hand at him. "No seriously," he continued, "your playing is fantastic, the song is as good as anything I've heard and your voice is incredible." He paused, "That song?"

I nodded, "What about it?"

"When did you write it?" he asked as he walked over to beside where I was sitting.

I hesitated before answering, "Wednesday past, this week."

He nodded slowly, "I don't want to presume anything about who it is about or anything." He let his voice tail off.

I swallowed and looked down for a moment before looking up at him again. I replied softly, "It's about you Paul. It's about the wonderful time I've had with you, about the fantastic dancing and about how I'll never forget these past few weeks."

He smiled and took my hands in his and gently helped me onto my feet. "I'm really touched Cara, it's a beautiful song. Thank you." I shrugged awkwardly and looked down, but he lifted my chin gently with one of his hands. "Cara," he said softly, "may I kiss you?"

I swallowed hard and felt my stomach turn somersaults. My mind was screaming out that I couldn't kiss another man but I heard my voice betray me, "Yes Paul, I'd like that." He smiled and with his hand still gently under my chin, tilted my head up and leaned down.

His lips brushed mine softly. I felt as if my legs were going to turn to jelly and it seemed like a maelstrom of different emotions flooded my body. He smiled at me and raised an eyebrow as if asking a question. I nodded and he lowered his head to mine again. This time his lips pressed against mine firmly and he put his around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. It seemed only natural so I slid my arms around his neck. He kissed me with growing hunger and as my lips parted, I felt his tongue gently probe my mouth. My head was spinning from one extreme to another. From thinking that it was all wrong, to how much I was actually enjoying it.

After a few minutes we broke apart and Paul just held me close to himself in his arms. With what looked like sadness and regret in his eyes he looked down at me, "Cara Malone, my life will be so much duller without you."

I stroked his cheek, "Oh Paul. My life has become so much richer for having met you. Let's treasure the memories of good times rather than think of the downside."

He nodded and sighed, "You're right. But I will miss you. Stay in touch and don't forget me when you're famous."

I laughed, "I won't, I promise."

He broke the embrace and went over to get something from his coat. He came back with a little box shaped item wrapped in silver paper. He handed it to me shyly.

"What's this?" I asked curiously.

He smiled, "It's a little Christmas present for you."

My hand flew to my mouth, "Paul, I didn't get you anything. I'm so sorry. I never thought."

He shrugged, "You don't need to get me anything." He paused, "Sure you gave me the gift of this lovely song." With a wink he continued, "Plus you can send me a signed copy of your top selling album when it comes out."

I laughed, "I'll do that." I eagerly opened the wrapping paper to find a little black box. I opened it and inside was an exquisite pair of diamond stud earrings. I gasped, "Paul, they're absolutely lovely. You shouldn't have!"

He shrugged, "It's not much really. I just wanted to get you something to remember me by."

I hugged him, "Thank you so much Paul." We sort of stood there awkwardly then. He smiled and shifted, saying, "Well I guess this is it. I'd better be getting home." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out some business cards, "Here, all my contact details. Make sure you stay in touch."

I took them, "I promise I will." We walked to the front door, arm in arm. He put on his coat and then turned back to me, taking me in his arms and tenderly kissed me again. "Goodbye my love," he said softly as he opened the door to leave.

"Bye Paul," I said and waved as he descended the steps. I stood there until the taillights of his car faded as he drove down the driveway. Eventually I went inside and closed the door. I walked slowly upstairs to my room.

I really wasn't sure how I felt. Sad? Yes. Puzzled? Most definitely. Whilst I had revelled in the occasion of the evening, what with the glamour and the dancing, and whilst I had certainly responded to Paul's touch and kiss, I still felt perplexed. Part of me felt that it wasn't right. I certainly had feelings for Paul, but what kind of feelings? Deep down inside, I still felt that it wasn't right for me to think of such feelings for another man.

These were the thoughts whirling around inside my head as I removed my makeup, brushed out my hair and got undressed for bed. My last thought before getting into bed however was to scribble a brief note and stick it on the outside of my door: 'Don't even THINK of trying to get me up for a run or aerobics or the like!! Love Cara.'

----------*----------

CHAPTER 8

I woke some time after 11a.m. the next morning and, after languishing on in bed for a while, got up and had a relaxing shower. When I came out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, I went into my bedroom and dropped the towel. I surveyed my body in the full length mirror. Over the past week or so, I had thought I had noticed some changes and I was right.

My skin did seem noticeably softer. Whether that was just the good care I was taking of it with the moisturising, or whether it was the hormones I didn't know. But more than that, my figure had changed. I had put on a little weight. This was not a bad thing given how scrawny I had been. I put that down to the good healthy eating over the last month. And my muscles were better toned which was undoubtedly a result of the exercise program that Beth had ruthlessly inflicted on us.

Also I had a really nice all over tan now and I had very visible tan lines which would not be going away in a hurry. I think I looked healthier than I had ever looked in my life. I certainly felt that way. But there were more changes. I wasn't wearing my corset yet I could see the definite shaping of a more feminine waistline and I wasn't sure if it was my paranoia, but I think my hips and bottom were fuller also. Another thing I had noticed was some discomfort under my breast forms. If I pressed the forms tighter against my skin, it was quite tender. I made a mental note to mention this to Beth or Jools.

I decided to try a more casual look that day. I dressed in a bra, no corset today, a simple white blouse and my pair of denim jeans over brown ankle boots. I kept my makeup simple and understated. I brushed my hair and tied it behind my head in a ponytail.

I surveyed my appearance in the mirror. I was very pleased. I had been worried that I had to dress ultra-feminine in skirts and dresses with lots of makeup in order to convincingly appear as a woman. But looking back at me in the mirror was evidently a pretty girl. The jeans were quite tight-fitting with some flaring at the bottoms of the legs. They looked very fetching. Whilst the crotch looked flat, it did feel a little uncomfortable, even though I was wearing my gaff to keep my privates out of harm's way. I popped my hoop earrings into my ears and the little diamond studs that Paul had given me into the other holes.

I went down to the kitchen to find Jools and Beth chatting over a cup of coffee. "Well at last the party girl decides to join us," Jools quipped.

I stuck my tongue out at her, "I need some coffee."

Beth poured me a cup and commented, "That's the first time I've seen you wearing your jeans. You know you look really good in them."

"Thanks," I replied with a smile as I eagerly took the proffered coffee from her. Still standing before them I continued, "Notice anything else different about me?"

Beth wrinkled her brow, "Oh new earrings?" She came over and looked at the diamond studs, "Very nice."

I nodded, "Well yes. Not what I meant but yes. Paul gave them to me as a present." As the whistles and comments started up I held up my hand, "Now leave that for a moment, all in good time. But do you notice anything else different about me? My figure?"

Jools shook her head, "No you look great as always. What are you getting at?"

I smiled, "I'm not wearing a corset today."

They both raised their eyebrows and Beth grinned, "Well where did you get that waist from then honey?"

I shrugged, "Well, I guess it's the hormones."

They both wanted to see. So although it was a little undignified, I unbuttoned my jeans and slipped them down my hips a little and lifted up my blouse. "My oh my," mused Jools, "you do indeed have your own waist now. Any other effects you've noticed?"

I explained about my skin being softer and that I thought my hips and bottom were fuller. They agreed but emphasised that they were by no means too big. I also mentioned about being a little tender under my breast forms. Jools nodded, "Hmm, well you have had them on for about a month now. It probably is time to remove the adhesive and give your skin a breather and we can check you out. Do that tonight?" I nodded my assent.

I sat down and helped myself to a croissant as I sipped my coffee. Then the inquisition began and my two interrogators made me recount every detail of the previous night. They roared with laughter as I told them about Paul's mother and her comments. And they smirked when I told them about all the men dancing with me. I became more hesitant as I came towards the details of the end of the evening.

"Well?" Jools prompted.

"Well what?" I replied.

She sighed, "Well, did he kiss you? Or do you want to keep such details to yourself."

I grinned and they both nodded. "He did kiss you," said Beth.

I nodded slowly, "Yes, he did. I sang one of my new songs for him and afterwards he kissed me."

Jools smiled and probed gently, "How did you feel about it?"

I shrugged and answered honestly, "Confused mainly. I mean I guess it was nice. It was exciting and I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest." I paused, "Yet I felt uncomfortable. It felt strange, sort of wrong. I don't think it felt right overall."

Beth nodded sympathetically, "Well it was sort of your first real kiss. Well as a girl anyway. Maybe it's just because it's so new."

I nodded, "Perhaps, but I don't think so. I think I need to be careful."

Jools nodded too and laid a hand on my arm, "You're right of course. You have to be very aware of the effect you will have on men. In their eyes you are extremely desirable and if you are uncomfortable with physical contact, I think you are wise to be cautious." She paused, "I mean you know better than either of us how a man thinks, but a lot of men are going to want to do more than kiss you." She gave me a knowing look.

I swallowed and nodded. I understood her perfectly and I resolved to be far more careful. I was going to have to make sure I didn't lead men on, as I wasn't prepared to go where they might think I was leading.

Beth cocked her head, "Which song did you sing him out of interest?"

I paused, "Err 'Not dancing, but flying'."

Jools perked up, "'Not dancing, but flying'? I haven't heard that one yet. Come on, drink up your coffee and let us hear it."

I did as instructed but as we made our way to the music room and as I sat down at the piano, I felt a certain reluctance. It was an intense song and as they heard it, they may think it contradicted some of the words I had just shared with them at the table. Nonetheless, I played it for them and didn't hold back on the emotion.

"Wow," said Beth, "It's no wonder he kissed you. In fact, I'm surprised he didn't ask you to marry him!"

Jools looked at me appraisingly, "Is that song, really an expression of how you feel?"

"Well yes. And no," I replied hesitantly. "I don't really know. The song seems right, the reality is a little hazier. It's confusing, but heck, irrespective of how I feel about real life, does this sort of sentiment seem wrong for me to convey as a singer and an artist? If you can follow what I mean?"

Jools nodded slowly, "I think I get you. Looking and listening to you, the song seems perfectly understandable."

I wanted to change the subject, "Moving on -- one thing Paul's gift reminded me about was that it is Christmas in like four days time and I haven't bought my family any presents. So how about a little shopping trip?" This met with all round approval.

----------*----------

We certainly did shop! Town was very busy, but we battled on manfully. No that sounds wrong. OK, we battled on womanfully. I eventually got the presents sorted out. And of course, we did happen to drift into a few clothes stores and yes, I did get tempted and give in and buy more clothes. I bought a narrow black below-knee length skirt and a cuddly chunky red roll-neck jumper. I wanted to expand my range of 'not-too-sexy' clothes. Perhaps it was the buying of presents for my family that had put me into this frame of mind again.

When we got back, we were all exhausted and after vegging out in front of the TV for a while, I decided to get an early night as I was still tired from the previous night out.

When I got up on Sunday morning, I was very aware that this was my last day at Silsbury Manor. Jools and I were planning to leave for the drive back up to London around tea-time. I went to Church with the girls as usual and felt much more at home and relaxed this time.

Mabel made a delicious Sunday lunch and afterwards, as we were all reeling from having eaten too much, I handed out some Christmas presents. I gave Mabel some perfume, conservative of course, and Sam a bottle of aftershave. Mabel clucked and fussed and with a lot of 'thank you me dear's and 'you shouldn't have's gave me a big hug and told me she would miss having me around. Sam gave me a peck on the cheek and thanked me.

I then gave the girls their presents. They opened them after some token scolds that I shouldn't have gone to such trouble. There were a lot of gasps as they opened them. Jools held up the fine gold chain and exclaimed how much she adored it. Beth slipped on her bracelet and pronounced similar sentiments. There was a lot of hugging and it did seem like it was the end of an era. There were a few tears all round, mine included.

They helped me pack, thankfully. I borrowed a large and a small suitcase and we managed to get my now extensive wardrobe packed into them. What with all my clothes, shoes, boots, cosmetics, jewellery, hair brush and hair dryer, I was leaving Silsbury Manor a lot more heavy laden than when I had arrived just over a month before. It was surprising given that when I had arrived, I had nothing more than the clothes I was wearing. And my music equipment! I had to get it all packed up too. Fitting everything into Jools' car was a tight squeeze but we managed it. After a quick bite to eat and with a lot more hugging and a few more tears, Jools and I said our goodbyes to Beth.

Beth wiped a few tears from her eyes. "You take care of yourself Cara Malone," she said tenderly as she hugged me, "Just remember that you are beautiful and charming. You're a lovely woman and to be honest, it doesn't matter whether you are successful or not, because that won't change the person you've become."

----------*----------

Neither Jools nor I said much for the early part of our journey. Beth's parting words to me had certainly struck home with me. I had started to think she was right. It was terrifying but also liberating. I had been fearful of not getting the record deal and having gone through everything over the last four weeks for nothing. But I realised that Beth was right. It would not be for nothing. To say that would be to cheapen all that we had done and achieved, all the good times we had enjoyed.

I couldn't remember a time before in my life when I felt as good about myself as I did now. This was liberating in that I could go to Sony tomorrow and if I was rejected so be it. For the first time in my inauspicious career to date I didn't have the gut wrenching fear of being turned down yet again. But on the other hand, this was also quite terrifying. Because the thoughts that had been crystallising in my mind were now quite clear.

What would I do if we didn't land the big deal? Give up and go back to being Nick? I now knew that I didn't want to do that. Well not at the moment anyway. For now I wanted to be Cara, I liked who I was and I loved the music I was making. If we failed tomorrow, we would try again; Cara would try again.

This brought its own difficulties. I now accepted that no matter what happened the next day at Sony, within three days I was going to have to face my family and somehow try to explain things to them. I had no idea what I was going to say and the thought of it sent a freezing chill through my body. I must have shuddered outwardly because Jools noticed.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked.

"Mmm?" I murmured coming back to the present, "Oh right yes." I shrugged, "Oh you know, I was just thinking about telling my family about all this." I gestured to myself.

Jools nodded, "Well don't worry about it yet. I mean, depending on tomorrow, if things don't go too well, which I'm sure they will though, but if they didn't, you wouldn't have to tell them."

I looked at her and gave a wry smile, "Jools, tell me do you honestly think that if things go badly tomorrow that I can just switch back to being Nick within 48 hours? Seriously, do you think I can make myself look masculine again just like that?" Before she got a chance I cut in again, "Alright before you say it, I guess I never really looked masculine, but what I'm saying is, I think I'd find it hard to convince people I was really a man, don't you?"

Jools smiled, "You may be right, but we could work something out, don't worry about it."

I gave a little laugh, "Jools, I'm not worried about going back to being Nick." I hesitated, "Well because I don't think it's on the agenda whatever happens."

She nearly swerved the car into the roadside verge. I think I must have caught her off guard, "Cara, what are you saying? Are you saying what I think you are saying?"

I nodded, "Yes. It's taken me a while to realise it, but even if things don't work out tomorrow, I still want to be Cara. For the meantime anyway."

"Wow," she said her eyes agog, "this is a biggie!"

I nodded and tried to explain to her the way I had been feeling over the past few weeks and how happy I had been and was still. I think she understood. Explaining it to someone else helped me work through it too. However I doubted other people, namely my family, would be as understanding.

We chatted amiably for the rest of the journey and it was about 9 p.m. when we eventually arrived back at Jool's apartment. The unpacking and lugging in of all our stuff was painful and tedious. At last we got all the stuff in. I now filled the wardrobe in the spare room which I was occupying. I knew all my 'Nick' stuff was in one of the storerooms downstairs, but there was nothing there I could think of that I wanted.

After we had settled down and had a cup of tea, I reminded Jools that we were going to sort out my breast forms. I had been too tired the previous evening to be bothered. I slipped off my blouse and bra and Jools eased the adhesive solvent under the edges of the breast forms. She gently worked it in and slowly bit by bit, we managed to lift the forms off. To say it was a weight off my shoulders would be a terrible pun, but also true. However I felt strange and unbalanced without the now familiar weight of my breasts on my chest.

As Jools put the solvent away, I inspected myself. "Err Jools?" I called, "Come and have a look."

She turned around, looked over at me and her eyebrows shot up, "Wow, no wonder you have been a little uncomfortable and tender."

As I looked down I nodded, "Yes I guess this explains it." As I looked down I could see two fairly prominent mounds on my chest. Where before I had been flat, I now had developing breasts and my nipples were much larger. And very sensitive as I discovered when I gently rubbed them. "I guess these hormones really are doing their business on me," I mused.

Jools put a hand on my arm tentatively, "Cara, well are you OK? I mean to be honest, I didn't think the hormones would work this much in this time. I don't know if you are particularly sensitive to them or something. Do you like what you see?"

I looked up at Jools. I was amused at her concern, "No, I'm not quite happy Jools." I saw the growing concern in her eyes. I winked, "They're not really big enough for me yet."

She looked at me for a moment before smiling and slapping me lightly on the arm, "Are you sure? I mean this is serious."

I thought for a moment and nodded slowly, "After what we talked about in the car, I can't help but be happy with how things are going. I mean if I say I am committed, I'm going to have to back up my words with actions." I think this was the first point that a certain idea came to me. Something I would have to pursue and think about. But more of that later.

I slipped my blouse on, and said my goodnights to Jools. In my room, I gently rubbed some moisturiser cream into my breasts. My breasts. Strange. But nice. I slipped on my nightdress and shivered at the sensations of the silky material caressing my sensitive nipples. It had been an exhausting day and I didn't lose any sleep over the thought of the meeting the next morning.

----------*----------

I woke early the next morning in anticipation of the day ahead. It was just before 7 a.m. I got up quietly and headed into the bathroom and had a relaxing foamy bath and washed and conditioned my hair. I dried off and wrapping a towel round me, headed back to my room. I met a bleary-eyed Jools on her way to the bathroom. She gave me a sleepy hug and asked me if I needed any help getting ready. I shook my head and assured her I would be OK but that I would appreciate her opinion on the final look.

Back in my room, I began to get dressed. Although I was pleased with my new-found natural waistline, I decided I would go for the full enhanced look and put on my corset, slipping my breast forms into the cups. I tightened the corset viciously to get my waist as narrow as possible.

I was determined that today Mr. Simon Andrews was going to see as 'marketable' an image as he had ever seen in his life to date. I slipped on a pair of black silk patterned stockings and attached them to the suspenders on my corset. I revelled in the lovely sensation of wearing stockings. As strange as it had been at first, I had quickly grown to love the feeling. I could understand why women would say they feel sexier when wearing stockings. There is something deliciously sexy about it and I was going for unashamedly sexy today. I pulled on my black Lycra body top. I clipped the bodysuit buttons closed under my crotch.

It defined my 'enhanced' features perfectly and clung to my body. It had long sleeves and a polo neck top. I pulled on my black and white checked miniskirt. It was short. Mid-thigh. Of course it had to be my black suede knee-length high heeled boots.

I sat down at the dressing table and blow-dried my hair. I added a lot of hairspray and tried to give my hair as much body as possible. My hair was fuller and thicker and was growing. Although it was lengthened by the hair extensions Beth had given me, I figured that my own natural hair was probably now coming to just below my shoulder blades. After a lot of brushing, I was happy with my hair and moved to concentrate on my makeup.

I carefully applied the foundation and setting powder. I delicately outlined my eyes with a kohl pencil. I was going for a slightly heavier appearance than my normal daytime makeup. After eye shadow and giving my lashes a luscious coat of black mascara, I highlighted my cheekbones with rouge. Next lipstick. I outlined my lips with a red lip pencil. Then as Beth had taught me, I painted my lips with red lipstick. I blotted and then added a final coat of gloss.

I had plenty of time so I took the time to carefully paint my nails the same shade of red as my lipstick. I added some Obsession perfume, a chunky silver chain over my black polo neck top, matching silver bracelet on my right wrist and my long silver pendant earrings. I added a pair of medium sized hoop earrings into my other holes and decided that I was probably done.

I stood up, took a deep breath and turned to check myself out in the full length mirror. I was amazed at how my appearance could continue to surprise me time and time again. There was no doubt about it. I looked hot. I struck a few poses and made a few pouts. I felt very sexy and looking in the mirror, I knew I looked every bit as sexy as I felt. I felt good. Watch out Sony, here I come.

Jools was already sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me. She was smartly dressed in a navy pinstripe jacket and trouser suit over a white blouse. Her hair was pulled back from her face and her makeup was neat and understated. She smiled at me as I walked in. "My goodness, who has taken my Cara and replaced her with this sex kitten?"

I laughed and purred at her. Then more seriously, "Do I look OK?"

"OK?" she exclaimed, "You look one hundred percent drop dead sexy gorgeous."

I laughed again. "It's not too much is it? Over the top?"

She paused and shook her head, "Not at all. To be honest, Miss Cara-gonna-be-a-rock-star I doubt that you could look too sexy. Nothing would be too much. Well perhaps except full frontal nudity."

I grinned and playfully swatted her, "You look great too. Every bit the business executive."

She smiled and straightened her jacket, "One of us has to look respectable. I'm the cool-headed on-the-level agent. You're the stroppy tarty rock star."

I pouted and chuckled, "I'm not a stroppy tart."

Jools raised an eyebrow as if to say 'yeah sure', but what she said was, "Want any breakfast?"

I made a face, "Ugh no. All I think I can face is a cup of coffee."

Jools nodded, "Yes me too. I know how you feel."

After our coffee, we got ready to leave. It was now just after 9 a.m. and we had to meet Simon Andrews at the Sony building at 10. Jools had booked a taxi as she didn't want us to have to face the hassle of taking the tube this morning. And of course since we had some degree of sanity, driving ourselves into central London was totally out of the question. As a car horn honked outside, I pulled on my cropped black jacket. Jools had her 'I'm-an-executive' navy leather briefcase under her arm. We both checked our appearance in the hall mirror.

"Dressed to kill?" I murmured.

Jools sniggered, "Well I know I am, but you? More like dressed to thrill!" We grinned at each other, hugged and went out.

I was very aware of the eyes of the taxi driver moving up and down my body as we came out and got into the back of the taxi. I was fairly careful to smooth my skirt down as I got in, but not overly careful. Heck, I felt sexy. I looked good and today was all about flaunting the good about myself. I gave the driver a shy smile and had to hide my smirk as I saw him flush.

Jools nudged me and hissed softly, "Stop that you!" She winked, "Save it for later." She gave the driver his instructions and he drove off.

----------*----------

As we walked into the Sony building, I felt my mouth grow dry and I began to get more nervous. What if Simon Andrews recognised me? What if they laughed at me? "Are you sure they are expecting us Jools?" I murmured.

"Of course they are. I telephoned on Friday past to confirm and I was put straight through to Simon Andrews. He remembered. He hadn't forgotten and said he was looking forward to meeting this mystery woman. I told him you were called Cara Malone. You'll do fine. And I'll handle the business side of things."

I sighed and swallowed. From the main reception, we were directed up to the 4th floor offices. Unlike my last visit here, there wasn't long to wait. We had barely sat down, before Simon Andrews came bounding out of his office. He came over to us and we stood up. He smiled and held out his hand to me, "Miss Malone, I presume. Simon Andrews. A pleasure to meet you."

I was tempted to tell him we'd already met but refrained. Instead I smiled demurely, "Mr. Andrews, so good to meet you at last."

He turned to Jools and shook her hand again, "And good to see you again Miss Carstairs."

I was aware of his eyes looking me up and down. 'Take a good look buster,' I thought. He showed us into his office and made a show of pulling out the seats from the round table for us. No formally sitting behind his desk this time. He sat down beside me and laid his hands on the table. He smiled again. I thought that his jaw was going to fall off if he smiled any wider.

"Well Miss Malone, I have to say it's good to meet the mystery singer behind the disk we heard some weeks back. We were quite impressed and were keen to see if you lived up to your promise in the flesh."

I smiled back at him through half closed eyelids, "Oh Mr. Andrews, I can assure you that I can live up to my promise. But as for my flesh? I'm flattered by your interest, but I thought I was here to talk about my singing?"

Jools gave a half cough, half choke. Simon Andrews went beet red and looked a little flustered, "Ah well, I mean, that's not what I was saying." He looked away and then looked back, "It was just a turn of phrase..." He saw the amused smile on my face and said, "You're teasing me."

I gave a little laugh, "I would never presume to tease someone as important as you."

He regained his composure and the smile returned, "Ah now you're flattering me. Now, where were we? Ah yes. Your demo was very interesting and we would be keen to consider possibilities. On the demo you were singing cover versions. Certainly the vocal performance was very good as was the instrumentation, but we were wondering whether you perform original material or whether you would be considering trying some songs written by others?"

I nodded, "Oh I would plan on singing my own material. I've written several songs."

His smile grew wider, "Really? Well this is promising. Now of course, I'd be very keen to hear some of the material and to hear you sing in the...to sing live I mean, but we can proceed to that shortly."

He sat back and paused for a moment before smiling expansively, "Miss Malone, I have to be honest and say that I think that based on what we have heard of your talent thus far, we would probably be in a position to consider offering you a recording contract. Subject to hearing you perform for us of course. What would you say to that?"

I smiled and in a measured tone replied, "Well Mr. Andrews, that's what I'm here for and certainly subject to mutual agreement of the details, it sounds like good news."

He nodded enthusiastically, "Well obviously, you'll want to consider the details in depth, but I have here the outline summary of the deal we have on the table." He handed us each a sheet of paper with several points on it. We both began to scan down it. I noticed Jools nodding at points and I tried to take it in.

Jools spoke, "Mr. Andrews, it seems like most of the details are reasonable and it looks like a fairly standard contract..."

"Hold on Jools," I interrupted gently, "I'm not sure I'm totally happy with all of it." Jools fired me a glance as if to say 'what are you doing?' but I gave her the 'trust me' glance in return.

Simon Andrews smiled beneficently at me and in an almost patronising tone asked, "What seems to be the problem Miss Malone?"

I smiled sweetly at him, "Well certainly it appears fine in most details, but this is only a deal for one album and then to be renegotiated thereafter. I really am looking for a longer-term outlook. Now if it could be amended to a deal for at least two albums it would be much more acceptable." I sensed Jools shifting in her seat but ignored it as I focussed my attention on Simon Andrews.

He smiled, "Now Miss Malone, unfortunately for a new artist with an unknown pedigree, this would be the standard deal in most circumstances."

"In most circumstances?" I pressed.

"Well yes. Occasionally there might be an exception and a longer deal offered at the outset."

"Why would such exceptions be made?"

He looked a little uncomfortable, "Well if we felt the artist showed exceptional talent and we were keen to ensure a mutually profitable long term relationship with the artist, I guess we might make such an offer."

I smiled again and softly, "So if the artist showed exceptional talent such a deal could be offered?" I raised an eyebrow. Jools looked like she was going to swallow her tongue, but to her credit she tried to remain outwardly composed. I knew she was going to roast me afterwards though.

Simon Andrews laughed a little nervously, "Oh Miss Malone, I don't doubt you have exceptional talent. Let me say that your talent is as yet unproven. Unfortunately this is the deal that I am authorised to offer you."

I nodded, "Ah. So you would need someone else to authorise the deal I am seeking? I don't mean to pressure you Mr. Andrews but I am determined to aim for long-term success and I'm afraid I'm going to have to be insistent on this point."

He forced a smile, "Alright. Look, let me go and talk to someone and I'll see what I can do for you." He stood up and went into an anteroom just off his office. He left the door ajar.

"What are you playing at?" Jools hissed. "Are you trying to blow the deal?"

"No," I hissed back, "But for all I have gone through for this and am going to have to go through, we're going to get it right or not do it at all. If it doesn't work out, we can try elsewhere. Now shush, let's see if we can hear what he is saying."

Jools threw her hands up and nodded, "OK."

We listened carefully: he was on the phone. "Ah yes, Mr. Johnston. I've got Cara Malone here with me." "Yes, she is keen, but is asking for more than the standard deal." "No I haven't heard her sing yet, but we were getting to that." "Yes she writes her own songs apparently." "How does she look? Well let's say, there are no problems whatsoever in that department. She would make the PR department's day, if not their year." "OK, well that's probably not necessary..." "Right, we'll wait for you. Good-bye."

We heard him set the phone down and after a brief moment, he re-entered the room and sat down at the table again. He smiled, "Well Miss Malone, it seems you are to be favoured with meeting Mr. Johnston. He's on his way down to meet you and wants to hear you sing for him."

I raised an eyebrow, "Mr. Johnston, should I know him?"

"Ken Johnston, he's one of the senior executives. My boss I guess."

A few minutes later there was a little knock at the door and a slightly balding man in his late fifties entered. He had a ruddy complexion with a lot of laughter lines around the eyes. He walked over to the table. He acknowledged Simon with a wave and a nod. Turning his attention to us, he smiled expansively, "Well ladies, good to meet you, I'm Ken Johnston." He held out his hand to Jools, "Ms. Carstairs I presume."

Jools shook his hand and inclined her head, "Mr. Johnston, nice to meet you."

He turned to me and smiled, "And this must be the delightful Miss Malone that Simon here has been raving about to me." He extended his hand.

I cast a quick glance to Simon Andrews who looked as if he was about to protest but he didn't say anything. I delicately held out my hand and shook his hand, and in a soft voice, "Mr. Johnston, it's a pleasure."

He raised an eyebrow, "Ah, you're Welsh I take it from your accent?"

"I am indeed." I immediately took a liking to this man. He was sincere and had a warmth about him.

Mr. Johnston clapped his hands together, "Now what's say we go up to one of the studios on the 10th floor and get you to put your Welsh voice into action?"

We agreed and he held the door open for us. He led us to the elevators with Simon Andrews in tow. On the tenth floor we entered a small studio which had a piano, keyboard, various guitars, a drum kit, microphone and small P.A. system. It was obviously a performance studio rather than a recording studio. There was no recording equipment to be seen.

"Now," Mr. Johnston said enthusiastically, "Why don't you just fire ahead and play us some songs. We'll just sit over here by the side and listen."

I nodded and smiled nervously, "Umm alright." I went to the piano and adjusted a microphone to the right height. I made sure the P.A. was on and tested the sound level of the microphone and added a little reverb to the vocal channel. I sat down at the piano and played a few test chords to get the feel of the keyboard's action. It was a delightful Yamaha baby grand piano with a good action and lovely tones.

For a moment I almost had a blank, as I didn't know what song to play. I took a deep breath, and started into 'Nine years old again'. I used the nervousness and adrenaline to my best advantage and tried to deliver the best performance I could. I didn't look at my audience. I just focussed on the music, the song, the moment. I gave it a good shot and I think I did all right. But I wanted to keep going with the adrenaline flow so without looking over at the three seated at the edge of the room, I started straight into 'I just wanna be me'. I was beginning to feel a little more at ease and relaxed as I played the by now familiar jazzy chords. I started to look over at my 'audience' more and try to engage them in the performance. The lyrics of the song lent themselves to this and I would smile, cock my head, even pout at times:

"I'm dreamin' my own dreams, not fulfilling yours,
I'm throwing off the bonds, I'm gonna be free,
I'm releasing my true spirit, a spirit that endures
Cos I just wanna be me."

I finished and stared straight ahead of myself for a moment or two before looking over at Jools and the two men. Jools smiled me an encouraging smile and I smiled back at her. The two men were smiling too. Mr. Johnston got up and walked over to me. He put a gentle hand on my left shoulder and said, "Well Miss Malone, you have a great voice and I thoroughly enjoyed those songs. I think you show a lot of promise. Would you mind indulging me some though? Do you have any other songs you could play for us? Maybe two more?"

I smiled and nodded, "Certainly Mr. Johnston." He smiled and returned to his seat. I paused for a moment to compose myself and began the introduction of 'Not dancing, but flying'. I was beginning to love this song. Yes it was essentially a soft romantic ballad, but I knew it was a darn good one.

"And whenever I will think or dream of you, We're not dancing, but flying." I stopped, looked over at them and smiled.

I thought they looked impressed, or rather I was hoping they were. I cleared my throat, "For the next song, I think I'll need to play it on the guitar." I selected the timeless Fender Stratocaster and adjusted the strap. I checked the amplifier and played a few test chords. On the effects rack, I added a mild distortion and a little chorus effect. Happy with the sound, I started into the rocky chords of 'No half measures'. With guitar in hand, microphone in front of me, I felt the buzz of live performance come over me. I really began to enjoy myself as I let rip with all I had for the final chorus:

"For when you feel it's over and there's no point going on,
Is when you realise what is chaff and what're your treasures,
But if there's half a chance of making it, join me in this song,
Let's kick down the ever-closing doors -- no half measures!"

I finished on the requisite power chord and allowed the sound to gradually diminish in a distorted haze. I stood up, smiled and winked at my audience and said, "Thank you and good night."

Mr. Johnston laughed and got to his feet and applauded, "My dear, you are extremely talented and I'm sure Simon here will be able to work out a mutually acceptable deal with you both. I think you have a great future here and I'm already looking forward to hearing your first album. But I have one question for you."

"Sure," I said almost breathlessly, "ask away."

He winked, "Where have you been all these years up to now?"

I grinned and furiously thought how to answer. The truth wouldn't do: well Ken, I used to be a guy but wasn't getting anywhere. I smiled at him and winked back, "Where have I been? Waiting for this moment Mr. Johnston is the answer."

He laughed and didn't ask anything further. He and Simon led the way back to the elevator. Jools nudged me and whispered, "You were awesome! And you should have heard what they said about you."

"What did they say?" I whispered back.

She grinned, "Ken lent over to Simon and said 'She's gorgeous, she's sexy, she's a fantastic singer and the songs are damn good. Sign her up OK?'"

I chewed my lip and stifled a little gasp and hissed, "They really said that?"

Jools giggled softly, "No, they said you're boot ugly and couldn't sing to save your life." She saw my feigned pout, "Seriously, straight up, they loved you."

Mr. Johnston left us at the elevator after shaking our hands again. Back in Simon Andrew's office, we sat down again at the round table. He smiled, "Well Miss Malone, Miss Carstairs. I've managed to persuade Mr. Johnston that we should make an exception for you with the contract offer. I'm now in a position to amend the deal for at least two albums. How's that?"

Whilst I'm sure both we all knew that it wasn't really his decision, it seemed prudent to appear grateful. Jools nodded and smiled, "Thank you Mr. Andrews, we appreciate your efforts on our behalf. We're sure you won't be disappointed."

He nodded and smiled, "From what I've heard this morning, I share your hopes Miss Carstairs. Now I'm presuming that you will want some time to peruse the finer details of the contract. One thing to clarify though: will you be requiring session musicians or do you have your own band?"

Jools fired a questioning glance at me. I nodded and paused briefly before speaking, "Err well I'm in the middle of putting my own band together at the moment."

He nodded, "OK, so will the contract be with yourself as the solo artist or with a band?"

Jools took over, "The contract will be with Cara Malone and we will sort out the sub-contractual details with the band."

He nodded again, "That should be fine. Assuming completion of the contract, our standard advance against the first album would be £100,000 with some expenses for music equipment on top of that. Would that be satisfactory?"

I tried to keep my composure and tried to stop my eyes popping out of my head. I calmly nodded and Jools did the same as she replied, "That should be adequate." Adequate? One hundred grand? I could hardly believe it. It brought the pressure to succeed back into focus.

"One more question for now," Simon Andrews continued, "If we could meet early in the new year to try to finalise the contract, how long after that do you think it would be before you would be ready to enter the studio?"

I chewed my lower lip. I needed to give myself time to find my currently non-existent band. I replied hesitantly, "I think about three months to be honest. I want to have the band well practised and rehearsed and work on some more material." I paused briefly and came up with a further reason that I though would appeal to him more, "After all, I don't want to waste expensive recording time on practising or writing new material." That did the trick as he nodded in agreement.

"Well then," he said with a smile and extending his hand to me again, "Here's to a long and successful relationship."

I smiled and shook his hand as did Jools. He ushered us out and wished us a Merry Christmas and told Jools to ring his secretary after Christmas to arrange an appointment to finalise the contract.

It wasn't until Jools and I hit the street outside and walked a few hundred yards away that we let our guard down. She turned to me and grinned before hugging me in a big bear hug and squealed, "We did it, oh my but we have done it!"

I laughed and hugged her back as the tension began to fade, "I know, I can hardly believe it. Is it real?"

"It most definitely is. I have the papers in my case to prove it. And the promise of a hundred grand!"

I smiled and we paused on the pavement, I mused, "I don't think he suspected anything, I mean I don't think he made the connection between Cara and Nick."

Jools laughed, "Oh you connected with him all right I'd say, but not in that way."

We walked on and tried to find somewhere for lunch. I had an appointment with Dr. Carson that afternoon. Just as I relaxed from one ordeal, I had another trial to face.

----------*----------

Dr. Janice Carson's consulting rooms were in Harley Street of course. As we walked up the steps to the classically stylish Georgian town house I murmured to Jools, "This isn't going to be cheap is it?"

She grinned at me, "Well no, but it'll not put too much of a dent in a hundred grand."

I gave the receptionist my name and after about 10 minutes sitting in the waiting room, a well dressed lady in a white coat came out. She looked to be in her late forties, but had obviously kept herself in good shape. She came over to us and we stood up. She hugged Jools, "Julie, so good to see you again. And this must be your friend Cara." She turned to me and smiled as we shook hands. She turned to Jools and raised her eyebrows, before turning back to address me, "Well Cara, why don't you come on in. Julie you don't mind waiting here do you? I think it would be more appropriate."

Jools shrugged and nodded but looked a little ill at ease, "Uhh sure Dr. Carson."

She led me into her consulting room. It was spacious, well lit and tastefully furnished. She indicated a seat on one side of her desk and she sat down opposite me. She looked intently at me and then smiled and shook her head before speaking, "You know, if I wasn't aware of the nature of your referral here, I have to say, I wouldn't suspect a thing. Are you sure Julie has your details correct? This isn't a little joke of hers is it?"

I laughed, "It's not a joke and I'm flattered, thank you. But she was correct, I am...or rather I guess I was...well I don't know really." I paused and tried again, "I used to be Nick and now I'm Cara." I shrugged, "It's sort of complicated."

She nodded sympathetically, "I understand. Do you want to tell me about yourself?"

And so I began to tell her about myself. I had decided that the bare bones truth was not going to be good enough any more. So I told her about growing up, being teased, called pretty boy. I told her about how I didn't seem to fit in with most of my male peers and how I was often a little isolated. This was true, but a lot of it was self-imposed as I was so absorbed in my music. She asked about my family. I assured her I had a good relationship with my family and there were no problems there. Although when she asked if they knew about the changes taking place in my life, I guess I was obviously uncomfortable. She sensitively moved on and said we could talk about that later.

I moved on to tell her about the recent years living in London and struggling to make it as a musician. I told her about my lack of fulfilment and my discontent with my life. She asked about relationships. I told her that I hadn't had many and to be honest had only had one girlfriend. She gently asked if I had any experiences with men. I was quite hesitant, but told her that I had not had any before I was Cara but had kept company with a man in recent weeks. But I tried to tell her I wasn't quite clear on my feelings about that at the moment.

She asked me about what had prompted me to pursue this change in my life. I explained that it was a combination of everything that had happened so far and how Jools and I had chatted one day and she had persuaded me to let her try something new. I told her about how she had helped me dress and did my make up. She asked how I felt when I saw myself in the mirror. I paused. I told her I felt enthralled. This was true. However I also added more, probably reading back my current feelings more into that day and told her that I felt whole and more complete than I had ever been. I said it felt like a light had been switched on in a dark room and as Jools and I had chatted about it, I knew I had to try living as a woman to explore this more.

This was an embellishment of the truth, but I knew that if I was going to proceed down this line, I had to be convincing. Jools and I hadn't talked about this. I think Jools felt that this all had to come from me. In a sense, I knew that what I had said was true, but I don't think I really realised this until more recently.

Dr. Carson nodded and had been taking some notes, "Well Cara, I think I can understand what you have been telling me. You certainly seem to have thought about what you are doing and seem to be sure about this path you have started on. And whilst it has been a relatively short time that you have been exploring this, I have to say that as I look and listen to you I have little doubt that you are correct. May I perform a brief physical examination?"

I nodded and she led me to a couch, she handed me a blue gown and asked me to remove all my clothes and cover myself with the gown. She pulled a curtain around me and gave me a few moments. I made myself comfortable on the couch and she came back round the curtain and began. She took a lot of basic measurements first: temperature, pulse, blood pressure and weight. She then listened to my heart and lungs. She seemed a little taken aback as she looked at my developing breasts (I had removed the breast forms when I got changed).

"Well, things have been changing here! Are you sure you only took the prescribed dose of hormones and no other hormones?"

"Yes, I had the booster shot and then one tablet a day for about the last four weeks. They just finished this morning."

She raised her eyebrows, "You do seem sensitive to the effects. Usually I would not expect this degree of feminisation after this short a period of time." She paused and looked at me with some concern, "When I gave the hormones to Julie, reluctantly I must admit and due to her persuasion, I at least took some comfort in the fact of there being little significant change and none that would be irreversible. However, you have progressed somewhat beyond that. How does that make you feel?"

I could sense she was worried about how I would react. I answered truthfully, "Dr. Carson, I'm quite happy with the changes for the most part."

"Go on," she encouraged.

I swallowed and figured I had better be truthful, "Well I'm happy with the changes so far and I was surprised by the development in my breasts, but I guess it just sort of made me wish for more changes."

Dr. Carson looked a little relieved and smiled. "I see. Now do you mind if I examine you down below?"

I shook my head and she gently lifted my gown and donning a pair of gloves inspected my groin and privates. It took a bit of self-control to prevent me from embarrassing myself but I managed it. She replaced the gown and nodded. "Awkward questions time," she smiled ruefully, "Do you still get erections? And sorry to have to ask, but can you still climax?"

I think I blushed a little, "Erm, yes and yes."

She nodded, "OK. Well there seems to have been a little atrophy there, but not very significant. If you want to get dressed and come on out and take a seat again, we'll talk about the future."

I dressed quickly and took my seat again. She set her pen down and looked closely at me again. She smiled, "You know, if I hadn't seen what I've just seen behind the curtain, I have to say, I don't think I'd believe the truth. How does that make you feel?"

I laughed nervously and shrugged, "Well I don't know -- pleased. Happy I guess." I paused, "I really like the way I look, it has been amazing and surprising to me, but to be sort of attractive and to look the way I do...I guess it should disturb me, but it doesn't really. Not now."

Dr. Carson arched an eyebrow, "You think you look sort of attractive?"

I blushed, "Oh I'm sorry. I'm being immodest...well I meant to look like a woman I guess."

Dr. Carson laughed, "Cara my dear, I didn't mean that you weren't attractive, what I meant was that you were kind of totally understating the truth."

I blushed further but smiled and softly said, "Oh I see...thanks."

"Now let's think about a few things. One: do you envisage yourself returning to your male identity?"

There it was. The question was posed. It almost seemed to hang there in the air before me. I paused, not because I didn't know how to answer or what the answer would be, but more because I knew the significance of my answer. "No," I simply replied.

"Are you sure?" she pressed.

"Absolutely," I affirmed.

She nodded, "Alright. Two: do you want to continue with feminisation or are you happy at how things are at present?"

Again I knew my answer, "I want to continue."

"Three: have you thought about how you want to continue?"

"Well, I sort of presumed that I would take more hormones?"

Dr. Carson nodded, "Yes that is certainly part of what I was thinking about, but I want to raise a few other specific items. Firstly, have you considered breast augmentation surgery?" She paused and then added, "As in breast implants you know."

I felt my mouth grow dry. I had thought about it a few times over the last week or so. I wasn't sure if it would have been a possibility, but I had certainly given it some consideration. I hadn't mentioned this to Jools or Beth though. "Well, yes I have thought about it."

"And?" she asked gently.

I swallowed, "I have thought quite a lot about it recently and...," I paused and then with a sort of inward 'what the hell' continued, "and to be honest, I really want my own breasts." There I said it. I had been skirting around the issue in my mind, but I knew this was the truth.

She nodded, "And would you want to go through such surgery?"

"Do you think it would be possible in my case?"

Dr. Carson smiled kindly, "Yes I do. You have shown a remarkable response to the hormones so far and will likely continue to show further response. If you wanted to proceed I would recommend that I see you in another month and reassess you then and if you still wanted to go ahead, I would refer you to an excellent surgeon."

I nodded, "That sounds good."

She grimaced slightly, "Now I'm afraid, he's not cheap."

I shook my head, "That's not a problem. But to be honest, I have to say that discretion and personal privacy is one of my highest priorities. I don't know what Jools has told you, but I am pursuing a career that may lead to me being in the public spotlight."

She nodded, "This surgeon has operated on many high profile individuals. He does an operating list in Belgium once a month at a discreet private clinic so privacy shouldn't be a problem." She paused again, "From the breast forms you wear, I see you have gone for a large bust size, D cup would I be right?" I nodded and she went on, "Would that be the size you would be aiming for?"

I shrugged and felt very embarrassed, "Well I suppose, I don't know. I guess I quite like that size."

She nodded, "To be honest, I think it suits you very well. For your height and figure it is not out of proportion at all and assuming you have some more development in response to the hormones, I don't think it would be a problem. Now let me move on to the second other item to consider." She paused again and I knew what it was going to be before she spoke, "Have you thought about gender reassignment surgery? Do you know what that is?"

My throat was really dry now. "Yes I know what that is. I have had an occasional thought about it, but I haven't given it serious consideration. I just don't know what I think about that right now and don't even know if I want to give it much thought at the moment. Sorry."

"No don't apologise at all. I'd rather you were measured and considered in your approach. I just wanted to know. I will not ask you any further about this matter but feel free to bring it up with me at any time in future."

I nodded, "Thanks."

She smiled, "Well nearly done now. Hormones. I'm assuming you want to continue on them. My suggestion would be another intramuscular depot injection today supplemented with a slightly higher dose of tablets each day. How do you feel about that?"

I nodded, "I'd like that."

Once again I found myself up on the couch, this time lying face down and my skirt raised. Dr. Carson gently pulled my panties to one side and I felt the sharp sting of the needle in my buttock followed by the dull ache of the injection. When I had got myself together again, she handed me a little white bag with a bottle of tablets in it, "Take one a day. It's another month's supply and I want to see you at the end of the month if that's OK. Also I'd like to take a blood sample before you go to check your body's own hormone profile."

One blood sample later, I was ready to go. I thanked Dr. Carson for her help and went out to the waiting area again. I made an appointment with the receptionist for another month and then headed out with Jools.

"Well?" she asked, "How did it go?"

"Dr. Carson is really nice," I replied.

"I know that," she said with amusement, "So what happened?"

I shrugged, "She asked me loads of questions and seemed happy with what I told her. I got another hormone shot, more tablets, a blood test and an appointment in another month." I decided not to tell her about the other discussions regarding breast and gender reassignment surgery. Some things are still private no matter how much we had been through together. Jools didn't push it any further and as it was now mid afternoon, we hailed a cab and headed back to Jools' apartment.

----------*----------

Back at Jools' place I began to pack for my trip home for Christmas. It felt sort of unreal, but I knew that this evening I was going to have to face my sister and tomorrow, Christmas Eve, face my parents. I still wasn't quite sure what I was going to say. Although I feared my parents' reaction more, I wasn't quite sure how well my sister would take it either. She was quite conservative. It was the way we were brought up.

Heaven knows, I actually was quite conservative. Except for turning into a woman that is. I didn't drink to excess, didn't smoke, didn't do drugs. I had only ever had one sexual partner, Jools, and I even had felt a little guilty about that at the time. My parents didn't know about that for sure. They had suspected and had even asked, but I hadn't told them.

I thought long and hard about what way would be best to meet my sister. I was going to stay at her house in Bristol. She assumed I was driving up. But as Jools and I had discussed, that was out of the question. The chance of getting stopped by the police was slight, but if I did and all I had was Nick Evans' driving licence, the cat would be out of the bag. In fact, we had decided to sell my car. To cover the trail, I had signed the car over to Jools and she was going to sell it.

We hadn't figured out what to do about my ID and we were both going to give it some thought over the holiday period. So Jools was going to leave me to the National Express bus station and I would get the 2 hour express bus leaving at 6:30pm. I was then planning on a short taxi ride to my sister Claire's house. How would it be best to look for the initial meeting?

Although it might be easier to actually appear as Nick, both Jools and I knew that would not be possible. And I decided that, even were it possible, it would not be the best thing. I would be tempted to wimp out and not tell Claire or my parents. I knew I had to though. I also decided that turning up as the sex kitten was not the best idea too. A compromise was called for.

I removed the corset and breast forms and put on an A-cup bra that Jools had dug out of the deepest recesses of her wardrobe. I dressed in a white polo neck top, my slim fitting jeans and brown boots. I removed my earrings and brushed my hair back into a simple ponytail. I removed the bright red nail varnish and coated the red-brown nails with a light pink more flesh-like colour of varnish. I removed the heavy makeup from earlier and decided to forgo wearing any makeup at all. I removed the rest of my jewellery and then checked out my appearance in the mirror.

Still girl. Despite it all, I didn't really even look androgynous. My skin was too soft, my hair was too shiny and glossy and my figure still said 'woman'. I had a small but noticeable bust line, a narrow waist and slim long legs. With my long nails, my hands still looked slender and feminine. Plus after the last 4 weeks, all my mannerisms and gestures were feminine and to speak in a voice resembling 'Nick's' voice took all my concentration.

"Cara?" Jools interrupted my thoughts.

"Mmm?" I said still looking at my reflection.

"Do you think it is a good idea to remove your breast forms?"

"Why? It's not as if I don't look like a woman without them."

"I know, but well, I was just thinking, if you are going to run with the larger bust line, will it not be strange if people meet you over Christmas as you are now and then in future meet you with your swollen assets?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "I know what you mean. I hadn't planned on not wearing them really. But I need to soften the blow for Claire at least."

Jools wrinkled her nose, "And you don't need to soften the blow for your parents?"

I nodded, "I do. But I'm hoping that Claire will go ahead of me to forewarn them."

That seemed to satisfy her. I packed my things. I didn't travel as light as I once had. Clothes, cosmetics, jewellery and hairdryer -- I had soon filled a medium sized case and I was only going to be away for about 10 days. Stretching out in front of me it seemed like a life sentence and I had a certain feeling of apprehension mixed with doom. I had packed the more conservative side of my wardrobe with mostly longer skirts. But I packed some of the shorter stuff too as I figured I was going to have to try and gradually introduce my family to the person I had become.

It was time to go. My feet were leaden as I put my case in the boot of Jools' car beside hers. After dropping me off she was planning to head on down to Silsbury Manor for the holidays. How I longed to tell her to drive past the bus station and take me with her, but I knew this was something I was going to have to do.

At the bus station, I paused before getting out of the car. Jools reached over and gave me a bear hug. She held on to me tightly and whispered in my ear, "I'll be thinking about you Cara. Make sure and phone me any time you want to talk. Love you."

I murmured back, "Thanks, love you too." I eventually got out of the car and carried my case to the ticket desk.

"Where to love?" the clerk asked.

"Single express to Bristol please."

"There you go, twelve pounds fifty."

I took my ticket and found the right bus. The driver loaded my case and I climbed on and found a seat by myself. The bus was half empty and I had plenty of time to think about what I might say and how things might go. It seemed that every mile that brought me closer to Bristol made my heart speed up and I felt a growing sense of nausea. I had to fight the seemingly irresistible urge to stand up and shout to the driver to stop and let me off. Which wouldn't have been the best idea given that we were halfway down the M4.

----------*----------

The taxi driver dropped me off a few houses down from my sister's townhouse at my request. I stood there on the pavement for a few minutes breathing in the chill night air. The sky was clear and the pinprick stars were winking at me. With a resolute sigh, I picked up my suitcase and walked the hundred yards to Claire's house. I climbed the front steps and rang the doorbell. I felt more nervous than I think I had ever felt in my whole life. Meeting the folks at Sony and meeting Dr. Carson paled into insignificance compared to how I felt at that moment.

I caught my reflection in the glass pane beside the front door. I sighed again. I didn't resemble my former self much. A pretty girl, tired looking, but pretty stared back at me. The door opened and my sister Claire smiled curiously at me, "Hello?"

She didn't seem to recognise me. I tried to find some words to say but nothing came. I just stood there looking at her as I chewed my lower lip.

She looked puzzled, "I'm sorry, can I help you?"

I forced a smile, "Hello sis."

She leaned forward looked at me closely and wrinkled her brow, "I beg your pardon..." She cut off abruptly and, with a sharp intake of breath, her hand flew to her mouth, "Oh my god! Nick?"

To be continued...