They Think I am a Woman! - Part 4

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Sheila winked at me, screamed, and fainted!

The policeman who was frisking me immediately stopped what he was doing and ran around to the other side of the car.

'What did you do, Mick?'

'I didn't do anything, Dave; she just sort of dropped!'

While the two policemen tried to revive Sheila, I had time to get my act together.

I went over to them, trying not to fall over in my bloody shoes, and in my best, concerned girly-type voice, said, 'What did you do to my friend?'

'Sorry, Miss, she just fainted on me.'

Sheila was showing signs of revival, moaning for all she was worth and struggling to get up.

Both policemen helped her shakily to her feet.

'Are you OK, miss?'

'Y...yes, thank you. I'm sorry, it was the shock of you running your hands up and down me. I'm not used to that sort of thing.'

'Sorry, miss, we have a job to do.'

'Why did you stop us?' said I, all brave and flashing my eyelashes.

'A car answering the description of yours was reported leaving the scene of a robbery. We had to check it out. Also, your offside brake light was out, so we had good reason to stop you.'

Sheila was, by now, back to her usual self. 'Why the hell did you start body searching us?' Do we look like desperate criminals, or are you just pervy?'

Just then the police radio sounded. Mick went over to the car, and then after a few moments came back.

'It's OK, the robbers have been caught.'

'Well,' said Sheila, 'thank God for that. Can we go now?'

'Yes, miss, but please get your light seen to, or you will be stopped again.'

With that, the policemen ran to their car and left us in a hurry to go and stop more innocent people going about their lawful way.

I slumped into the passenger seat of Sheila's car, smoothing down my skirt with one hand and wiping my fevered brow with the other.

'Sheila, you should win an Oscar for that performance.'

'Not bad, was it? I knew that there could be awkward questions if he found the little surprise in your panties. It was the best I could think of at the spur of the moment.'

'Well, that's it. I've had enough. First we go to McDonalds and I slip on some brat's dinner. Then I get stopped by the police and almost strip-searched. I am a nervous wreck. I can't go through with it. I won't go through with it. I've aged ten years today.’

Sheila said nothing as we drove home. She almost spoke several times but thought better of it.

In the mood I was in, I wouldn't have listened anyway.

All of a sudden there was a bang from the back of the car, and it lurched drunkenly to the side of the road.

‘Oh shit, what now!’ I shouted desperately.

Sheila got out of the car and went around the back.

‘We’ve had a puncture; you have to get out of the car.’

‘I can’t get out; someone will see me.’

‘Toni, I am not going to fix this with you in the car. You have to get out. The jack won’t take your weight as well as the car’.

‘I’m not fat.’

Even to me, my voice sounded a bit squeaky and hysterical.

Sheila walked over to my side, wrenched the door open, and said, ‘Go sit on that wall; it won’t take a minute.’

Reluctantly, I got out of the car after looking everywhere to make sure that no one was about.

I sat on the wall, wincing as my bum felt the slight shock of the cold wall on my scantily clad rear end.

Just then I heard the noise of a big engine. I glanced up and saw that it was a bus coming up the road.

I shrunk down a bit, in the vain hope that I wouldn’t be noticed. What I didn’t realize was that the bus stop was right by where we had broken down!

Of course it stopped next to us, and out came about a hundred people. My face must have looked as red as the bus, because that’s how it felt. I had nowhere to hide.

Just then, a snotty-nosed boy of about 10 and his anemic-looking mum came up to me. The boy was picking his nose with the intensity of an expert and eating whatever he found up there. From being red, I now felt green after looking at the nasally challenged brat.

‘Hello, dear, Are you all right?’ Said the mom.

‘Erm, yes, thanks. ‘Um, my friend is fixing a puncture; then we’ll be on our way.’

‘Mum,’ said the brat, ‘why does her face look red and green?’

‘Don’t be rude, Damien.’

‘You do look a bit peaky, dear; will you be OK?’

‘Err, um, yes, thanks. I, er, think that I’m coming down with a cold’.

‘Well, you should wrap up warm, dear. You young girls think you can dress up in next to nothing. No wonder you catch all those nasty bugs. Come on, Damien, let's get you home.’

With that, the lady and brat walked off down the street. As they went, the kid turned round and poked his tongue out at me. I returned the gesture and put my finger up in a very unladylike manner. It was crude, but it helped.

I looked at Sheila. She was struggling to change the wheel. I was just about to offer my help when I heard the sound of two motorbikes coming up and screeching to a stop.

I looked around, and there they were.

‘Oh my God,’ I thought.

The vision in front of us was two bikers covered in leather, chains, and hair. Both over six feet tall.

They went over to Sheila, and one said, ‘Ullo, love, got problems wiv yer wheel then?’

‘Erm, yes, the nuts stuck.’ Said Sheila with a slight quaver in her voice.

I don’t know if she was scared, but I was nearly wetting myself.

‘Shove over, luv, let me and Ronald do it.’

(Ronald!)

I giggled slightly hysterically as they bent over, and I saw what was written on the back of their leather jackets. One said, ‘I luv my Mum,’ and the other one said, ‘I luv his Mum too.’

In less time than it takes to tell, the wheel was changed, and after our profound thanks, Ronald and Derek (I kid you not) were off down the road in a haze of blue smoke and burning rubber.

We got back in the car and were off again. I was about twenty years older by now and twitching slightly. Today had not been a very normal day and would take years of intensive therapy to rectify.

Finally, we arrived home. We stopped outside our house, and I got out.

It was funny; I was so used to wearing those clothes that it was second nature for me to get out of the car, smooth my skirt down, and go up to the front door. I was so wrapped up in myself, I didn't even look to check if anyone could see me get out of the car.

Sheila locked the car and opened the door. She followed me up to my room and came in after me.

I knew that she was going to try to persuade me to change my mind. I was adamant that I wouldn't.

'Look, Toni…'

'Don't Tony me; I have been through hell and back these past few hours. I don't want to know. Thanks for trying. I really appreciate it, but my mind is made up. I won't go to the interview'.

’But you will get away with it. You have to admit that at times you forgot you were a boy, and you sounded, looked, and acted like a girl'.

'I suppose so, but that is different from trying to get a job where I have to be a girl all the time at work.'

'Look, Toni, you have only been a girl for a few hours, and look at you, you're a natural. If I didn't know different, I would think you were a girl. It's all a question of confidence'.

'Yes, and I haven't got any.'

Sheila looked at her watch.

'Look, honey, I have to go to work; I've got no more time to argue with you. It's up to you. I'll be back at 6; if you change your mind, then I'll help you. It would be the difference between you having enough to live on or getting chucked out on the street. It's up to you. Bye.'

Sheila went out and closed the door behind her.

I went over to the mirror and looked at myself. I was so full of doubts and conflicting feelings. I knew my confidence was low, and whose wouldn’t be after the day I had just experienced! However, looking at the girl in the mirror, I also knew that I liked what I was seeing.

My heart was beating like a drum, and I hate to think what my blood pressure was right then.

I looked at the image of myself for ages and imagined what it would be like to live as a girl. It looked as if the prospect of it happening was almost inevitable. It was so unfair. Why couldn't I make it as a boy?

I knew, call it sado-female intuition if you like, but I just knew that things were going to go pear-shaped for me in a big way. I would never get away with being a girl. Hell, I had lived my life as a boy, and Sheila expected me to act like a real girl after just a few disastrous hours of practice.

Then my hand brushed against the silkiness of my blouse. Almost without thinking, I slid my hands down my skirt. I experienced a thrill at the feel of my feminine clothes. I never felt like this, wearing jeans and a tee shirt! It was strange, weird, kinky, and downright eerie, but I couldn’t deny it; I liked the way I looked and felt.

Perhaps I should have been born a girl. I know that some people feel that way. But until now, I thought I was 100% male. Now I didn't know.

'Oh God,' I thought with alarm, 'I'm actually enjoying looking like this. I must be turning into a pervert.'

Just then, there was a knock at the door. 'It must be Sheila,' I thought. 'I wonder what she wants now?'

I opened the door, not thinking about what I looked like.

I jumped as I saw it was Mr. Davis, the landlord!

He looked past me and said, 'Sorry, Miss. Erm, is Tony in? I need to see him urgently.'

I had to think on my stockinged feet.

'Ummm, he's out at the moment.'

'Are you a friend?'

'Err, sort of. He's, ah, my cousin.'

I cringed as Mr. Davis looked at me closely and then smiled.

'Yes, I can see the resemblance. But you're much prettier.'

'Er, thank you.'

'Can you tell him, sorry, but I need the back rent sooner than I thought? I need the money by Friday at the latest; otherwise, he has to go’.

I gasped. Friday. No way could I get him the money by then.

'I… I mean Tony said that you gave him until next week to pay.'

'That's before I found out that he had no job. I have someone who will take the room quickly. The new tenant has a job, and I can’t afford to take a chance of not getting paid by Tony.'

Just then, my mouth became disengaged from my brain. In mitigation, you have to understand that I had been through some pretty traumatic times in the last few hours. Call it delayed shock or something.

Anyway, I don't know why, but I heard myself say. 'You don't need to worry about Tony getting a job. I'm living here with him now, and I'm a secretary. I don't get paid till the end of the month, but I promise that you will be paid then.’

I smiled and batted my eyelashes so much that I could feel the draft. I tried to make myself appear like what I thought a coy, nice girl would look like in this improbable situation.

'I don't know. I should really let the new man have it.'

'Please.'

He looked undecided and then smiled. 'OK, honey. On two conditions.'

(Oh God!).

'One. That you are the named tenant.'

'That's OK.' I said.

'And two, because I like to vet all my tenants for suitability, I'll take you out for a meal tonight. On me.

(Oh shit!)

'Er, I can't. I'm washing my hair tonight.

'Well, this other guy wants an answer tomorrow. If I can't vet you tonight, I may have to let him have the room.'

'Can't you vet me now?'

'No, I have to go to the bank and then chuck out... I mean, assist some other tenants who can’t or won’t pay. That's the deal; take it or leave it.'

I looked at his mottled, lined face. He had beads of sweat on his forehead. I think he was smiling, but it appeared to be more of a leer. I could see his discolored teeth behind his cracked lips. His deodorant smelled strongly of B.O. He was wearing a dirty mac with strange stains on it. Perhaps he was one of those people who went to seedy places, where Macs were considered de rigueur. In short, he was not my type (as a girl or boy).

But I had no choice. It was a far, far better thing, etc.

'OK,' I said reluctantly, ‘what time?'

’I'll pick you up at 8 p.m.,' bye.'

With that, he looked me up and down, licked his lips, leered at me, and left.

I closed the door and sat on the bed.

My heart sank. I was in the effluent up to my neck again. What the hell did I say that for? I don't have a job. I have no money, and yet I opened my big gob and crap spewed out!

I had pushed myself into a corner; I knew that. I hadn't thought out the consequences, and now I was going to pay for it.

I looked at my watch. It was 2 p.m. Sheila would be back at 6. Perhaps she would help me to get ready for my first (and I sincerely hoped, only!) date as a girl.

Oh God, what had I let myself in for now!

I was still sitting on the bed half an hour later.

I was in shock. I still could not believe what I said to that effing creep, Davis.

I had actually batted my eyelids at him like a call girl on heat. OK, if he was a hunky male with a body to die for, a face to match, and muscles in the right places, but Davis! He was the original creepy and dirty old man.

Then I realized what I had just thought, and I broke out into a sweat.

What was I doing, thinking about hunky men! I am a hunky, well, puny really, man. Well, not much more than a boy, actually. Anyway, you know what I mean.

No way was I attracted to men. All right, I looked nice dressed as a girl. Hell, I fancied myself looking like that, and I felt nice too. All that silky stuff…nice, but that was no reason or excuse to think pervy thoughts about men.

I got up and went to the cracked mirror over the washbasin. I looked at the scared face blinking at me in the reflection.

There was no denying it; I looked nice as a girl, much nicer than I would as a boy. Still, I was a man, and men should not think such thoughts.

‘Am I gay?’ I said to my reflection. ‘No, I can’t be. I love girls. It’s just that girls don’t seem to feel the same way about me.’

I had tried to date a few girls, and I had even gone to one of those speed-dating places a couple of months before. I was the youngest one there by a long way. Every girl was at least thirty. I had tried to put on the charm, but being small, shy, inexperienced, and young didn’t help one bit. No one was interested except an old lady of at least forty, who wanted to mother me.

‘Anyway,’ I thought, ‘this doesn’t help me much. What the hell am I going to do?’

I made myself a cup of tea, sat down on the bed, and racked my fevered brain as to how I was going to get out of this.

I could see no way out. I had no job. I was going to be chucked out of my home unless I went out with the monster from the Black Lagoon. I had to go through with it. I had no choice.

Then I had another distressing thought. I remembered that I had to go to an interview dressed like a girl and get the job as well!

I felt my head was beginning to split. I had a few aspirins and then lay back on the pillow. Everything was going around in my head as I drifted off into a troubled sleep.

I dreamt that I was in McDonald's. I was just wearing some panties and a bra. I stood in the middle of the crowded room, shivering.

Everyone was pointing at me. There was the spotty boy who had served me. The two policemen who had stopped me and Sheila were leering at me, with a huge syringe in her hand. The bikers were there, holding hands and making rude gestures. Finally, there was Davis standing in front of me. They were all chanting. ‘Fake, fake, FAKE.’

Just then Davis, with an evil leer on his face, a dribble of saliva coming out of the corner of his mouth, and his tongue hanging out and panting like a dog, ripped open his dirty, stained mac to reveal….

I woke up suddenly to a banging at my door.

I shakily got up and opened the door. I could see with bleary eyes that it was Sheila, still in her nurse's uniform. I must have slept for longer than I thought.

‘Hi Toni, I’m back. Good God, girl, what have you done to yourself? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!’

‘Um, just a bad dream, anyway. Don’t call me a girl; remember, under all this stuff, I’m 100% man.’

‘Err, if you say so.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Nothing, nothing. Anyway, do I have to stand at the door all day, or can I come in?

‘Sorry.’ I said as I let Sheila in.

‘Well, Toni, have you decided what you are going to do?’ She asked, sitting on the bed and looking at me with a quizzical expression.

I sat next to her and sighed.

‘Well, Sheila, there have been some developments.’

‘What sort of developments?’

‘Davis knocked on my door shortly after you went to work.’

Sheila whistled. ‘Were you dressed like that?’

‘Yup.’

‘Oh GOD, what happened?’

‘Um, I, er, pretended to be my sister.’

‘Tell me all and don’t leave anything out.’

I told Sheila what happened in full and explicit detail. I was not very happy to tell her, but I had no choice.

Sheila hooted with laughter.

‘So you’ve now got a date with Wondering Hands, have you?’ she asked, trying to control her mirth.

‘Wondering Hands?’

That’s what all the girls in the flats call him. Given the chance, he is all over you like a rash’.

‘Did you let him touch you up?’

‘He tried, but I work in A&E, and we are used to that sort of thing. Let’s just say that he had to use his other hand for a week.’

‘To do what?’

‘Never mind. So you have painted yourself into a corner, and you want Auntie Sheila to help you out of it.’

I nodded my head, not wanting to say anything.

‘Well, I suppose it’s partly my fault for not warning you about the lovely Walter Davis.’

Sheila took charge, thank God, as my brain had booted down and wasn’t able to think effectively.

‘OK, Toni, back to my place, and let’s get you ready. Quick, we haven’t got much time!’

‘What do you mean, we have two hours?’

Sheila laughed and said, ‘Two hours is nothing. You really need at least three, but we will have to manage somehow.’

We arrived at Sheila’s flat, and in no time, I was stripped and having yet another shower. I had to wash and condition my hair using some girly-looking pink goo.

Once I was clean and dry, I put on her silky robe again. This was all a bit like déjà vu, as they say in Spain.

Sheila wrapped a towel around my hair and hustled me into her bedroom.

I sat at her vanity, and she dried my hair using a dryer. She then teased and backbrushed my hair to make it stand out more.

I was given a wispy black bra, which I put on with some difficulty.

‘You need to start doing this stuff for yourself. I won’t be here all the time, so get used to it.’

After fumbling with the bra, Sheila put in the pink blancmanges. I mean breast forms.

I gasped a bit; they were bloody cold!

Next came the panties. They matched the bra, black with lace and stuff. It was tricky, as I had to pull my little tinkle in between my legs, and Sheila did something with my nuts that made me gasp.

‘Ouch,’ I complained loudly.

‘Stop moaning, I’ve just put your balls back up inside you. You learn funny things on the wards nowadays. Look, see no sign except a little bulge’.

‘It’s not very comfortable,’ I complained in a whiny voice.

‘See how you go. Now what shall we wear tonight?’

‘Are you coming too?’ I said hopefully.

‘No, I was speaking figuratively.’

‘Oh.’

‘Now then,’ said Sheila, opening up her wardrobe, ‘what will look nice on you?’

‘I don’t want to look nice. I hate that creep. I do not want to encourage him’.

‘You need to look nice; otherwise, he will think you don’t like him, and he will chuck you out. Now you want to look nice but not drop-dead gorgeous, as you don’t want him to try it on with you.’

‘Yuk! You don’t think hell do it, do you?’

‘Probably, but you can always say that you have the curse.’

‘What curse is that?’

‘Time of the month.’

It’s the 15th. What has that got to do with it?’

‘Periods, Toni, periods; you must know about that. Didn’t you learn about the birds and the bees at school?’

‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t pay much attention to that; it seemed a bit messy.’

‘Anyway, it should stop him from going all the way.’

‘I don’t even want him to think about starting, let alone going all the way. Anyway, remember, I am a boy, not a girl. I don’t have all the bits. Hell, I don’t have any of the bits, so he couldn’t go all the way even if he tried!’

‘Believe me, honey; given the chance, he would try if he thought that he would get away with it. Hence, the ploy I always used if I didn’t want that sort of attention. You have the curse, right?’

‘OK. I’m beginning to wish that I just moved out and went to live in one of those nice cardboard boxes in an alley somewhere.’

‘None of that talk. Now let’s get on with it, as we don’t have much time.’

Sheila got to work on me, and it was just before 7.00pm that I found myself back in my dingy flat, staring in the mirror and looking at Toni.

I was wearing a black satin long-sleeved top and a black leather skirt that was about six inches above my knees. Black sheer stockings and four-inch heels.

My hair looked full and a bit wild. I kept pushing the hair from out of my eyes. God knows how Sheila had made my hair look like that. Anyway, my makeup was quite heavy. I had striking blue eyelids. My eyebrows had been plucked (ouch!). My cheeks had a flushed look, my lips were large, wet-looking, and very red, and I looked as if I was continually pouting.

‘What do you think, Toni?’

I didn’t say anything.

‘Well!’ said Sheila impatiently.

‘Er, um, er, I look er, different.’

‘You look hot, girl. No way is Davis going to chuck you out. He will want to see you as much as possible and can do that if you are the tenant.’

‘But looking like this, I will have to continually fight him off. Hell, even I’m turned on looking like this. What will it do to a dirty old man like Davis?’

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Sheila looked at me, and I looked at her. She went into the bathroom to hide, as we had agreed that Davis should not see her.

I gulped and slowly walked over to the door.

My heart was in my mouth as I opened the door, and standing there was Walter Davis.

He was wearing a suit. Well, I call it a suit, but it looked as if it was twenty years old. It was brown and had a faint pinstripe. I could smell the lovely aroma of mothballs wafting from it. His shirt was sort of lime green in color and needed an ironing. His tie was orange with pink spots on it. I cannot believe that it was ever in fashion.

I was a bit taken aback by what he was wearing. Eventually, my eyes went up to his face. He had washed, which must have been a first, but his shaver had missed a few places, and my eyes were drawn towards a particularly large mole on the side of his face, which still had a few hairs sprouting out of it.

I think he was smiling, but it was more of a leer, as he looked me up and down, taking in my somewhat sexy attire.

He was breathing heavily, for some reason, and all he could say, in between gasps, was ‘wow.’

Ah well, I thought. ‘In for a penny.’

I went to get the leather coat that Sheila had given me for tonight and went over to the door.

‘Shall we go?’ I said in a squeaky voice.

‘Of course, my dear,’ He said, finally finding his breath.

I walked downstairs, trying not to fall over and break my ankles on the high stiletto heels.

I could hear Davis, still breathing heavily behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood out in anticipation of the night in front of me.

Eventually, we were outside, and I looked around for his car.

Just then, a huge, long, stretched limo swooshed up and stopped.

Out got a man in a chauffeur uniform, and he came round and opened the door.

‘Madam,’ he said in as-like sort of voice.

I hesitantly got in and tried to sit down on the plush white leather seat. The problem was that I forgot that I was wearing leather too, and I promptly slid off and landed on the floor.

My legs were up in the air, and I could see that both the chauffeur and Davis were looking at me with their tongues out.

I quickly pulled myself together, rearranged my legs, and sat down on the seat.

Davis quickly joined me on the seat and virtually sat on my lap. I struggled to put some distance between myself and the odious man, but I was hard up against the car door.

I tried to think of something, anything, to get the octopus off me and said the first thing that came into my head.

‘Mr. Davis, please don’t sit so close; you might catch it.’

He moved away from me as if I had given him an electric shock.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ he said with alarm in his voice.

‘I’ve, er, just gotten over athlete’s foot, and I don’t want you to catch it.’

Hey, it was on the spur of the moment, and if you can think of anything better under pressure, you just try it!

He looked at me funnily and said, ‘Athlete’s foot is a foot condition, isn’t it?’

‘Er, yes, but it is highly contagious, and you can get it from touching other things as well as feet. A bit like foot and mouth.’

He looked at me a bit strangely but kept to the other side of the car until, after about three years, we arrived at the restaurant.

Jeeves, or whatever he was called, opened the door for me, and I stood on the pavement, with the wind whipping up my skirt, while Davis struggled to get out of the car.

As the car whooshed away, I turned around and looked at the restaurant. It looked quite expensive. There was a man outside wearing some sort of gaudy uniform, covered with ribbons and medals. He opened the door for us, and I walked in first, waiting for the bottom pinch from Davis, which luckily did not materialize.

A man in a waiter's uniform came over to us, took one look at Davis, sniffed, and said, ’The fish and chip shop is around the corner.’

Davis puffed himself up and said, ‘I have booked a table for two in the name of Davis.’

I was so embarrassed that I just wanted the ground to open up.

The waiter sniffed again, looked at his list, raised his eyebrows at seeing Davis’s name, and said,. ‘This way… um… Sir, Madam.’

We went over the acres of deep, plush carpet to our table. I was very aware of my appearance. At any moment, someone might stand up and tell the world that I was not a girl but a man dressed in drag.

I could see out of the corner of my eyes that many faces were staring at us. I felt like a fish out of water, and Davis looked just like a complete halibut. I wished that I was anywhere, even McDonald's, rather than here.

The waiter helped me into my seat. No one helped Davis.

‘Would you like a drink while you look at the menu, sir?’

Davis tried to look important as he said, ‘Pint of lager, please.’

‘And what would madam like?’

‘Diet Coke, please.’ I wanted to stay sober, but if things got bad, I wanted to keep my options open.

The waiter left us while we looked at the menu.

I saw the prices, and they were incredibly expensive. Even a prawn cocktail would cost more than a year’s salary in some third-world countries.

I realized that Davis was talking to me.

‘Pardon?’ I asked.

‘What would you like to start, my dear?’ Smirked Davis.

(My dear!!!)

‘Erm, prawn cocktail, please.’

‘And your main course?’

I looked feverishly down the list of main courses. It was all foreign to me. At last, I saw something I recognized.

‘Fillet steak, please.’

Davis clicked his grubby fingers, and the waiter came across with our drinks.

After putting the drinks down, the waiter got out his order book, licked the end of his pencil, and said, ‘Sir, are you ready to order?’

We will both have prawn cocktail followed by steak and all the trimmings.

‘Very good, sir, and for the wine, I can recommend the Cabernet Sauvignon.’

‘Is that white?’

‘Ahem, no sir, it is red. It goes very well with red meat.’

‘OK, we’ll have that then.’

The waiter went off, leaving me to stare into the bloodshot eyes of my companion.

He spoke.

‘Well, my dear, I bet that you didn’t expect me to bring you to a posh restaurant like this?’

‘Um, no, Mr. Davis, I expected something a little less expensive.’

‘Anything for you, my dear; and did you like the car?’

‘Very nice, if a bit big, Mr. Davis.’

‘Now, now, my dear; we can’t stand on ceremony. Call me Dirk.’

(Dirk!!)

‘Dirk?’

‘Yes, that’s my name, and sorry, I don’t know yours?’

‘Tony.’ I said without thinking.

‘But that’s your brother’s name.’

‘Er, yes, but his ends with a y, mine ends with an i.’

‘Confusing, that.’

‘Yes, our mom and dad’s little joke.’

‘I mean, there is no way you can be confused with your brother, is there?’

The coke went up my nose, and I nearly choked.

‘Are you alright, Toni?’

‘Yes, thank you, Walt… I mean Dirk.’

‘Anyway, I much prefer your company to his.’

‘Does that mean that I … I mean, can we stay in the flat’?

‘I don’t see why not, if tonight goes OK, of course.’

I didn’t like the sound of that. What other evil things did he have plans to do with me?

He drank down his lager in one gulp, burped loudly, and said, ‘Better out than in.’

An old lady sitting at the next table looked at him as if he was a cockroach, and I must admit I had sympathy for that viewpoint.

After a few minutes of small talk, and I really mean small-minded talk, our starters arrived.

I ate with relief at not having to talk to Davis.

He put a napkin around his neck and started to eat as if he had not consumed food for days. He put the food in his mouth as if he was shoveling coal in a boiler. It was not a pleasant sight.

‘Well, Babe, like the food?’

‘Er, yes, very nice.’

I looked around at the other diners. It seemed to me that we were the center of attention. Were they looking at me, a boy dressed as a girl, or Davis, that celebrated A-hole with the manners of a pig? Sorry, I am disparaging the pig species. Looking at Davis, I could not think of an animal that came close to the way he ate.

All the time he was eating, he was looking at me, or, to be precise, my breasts. He obviously had a fetish about them. To say I felt uncomfortable would be an understatement. I kept looking at the watch that Sheila had lent me. I swear that the hands were barely moving.

Davis was talking to me again. A marvel really, as his mouth, for once, was not full of food. I tried to pay attention to what he was saying. His voice had a slur in it now, no doubt helped by the three-quarters of the bottle of wine that he consumed together with the third pint of lager he had just polished off.

‘Well, babe, I can see that you are enjoying yourself. If you play your cards right, there is plenty more of this coming your way.

‘Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.’

He smiled. My eyes were drawn to his mouth. It was fascinating, really. He had a bit of food around his bloodless lips. I could see his lizard-like tongue darting out occasionally as if to taste the air. His teeth, brown with nicotine stains and in need of major repair work, glinted in the glare of the overhead chandeliers. He sipped his fourth pint as he continued.

‘Well, a pretty girl like you needs a strong, rich man like me to look after you. I’m sure that we can come up with an arrangement regarding your rent in return for, shall we say, certain favors?

My heart sank like a stone. What did he mean by certain favors? I did not like the sound of this.

‘Sorry, I don’t understand.’

‘Look, honey. I’m a man of the world. I have needs, manly needs, and I’m sure that a girl like you would be able to satisfy them. Now don’t say anything. Hear me out, in return for you being my escort and, er, date sometimes…’

I had to say something, anything.

‘Aren’t you married?’

‘Eh, what? Yes, but she doesn’t understand me. Now, where was I’?

He sipped on his lager and continued.

‘As I say, I need a date sometimes. Someone who will help me relax and enjoy myself. You are lucky that I’m around. You could live in splendor. I could take you to posh clubs and restaurants. Wine you and dine you. I’m not poor. I have been fleecing… I mean collecting rent on all my properties for years. I have plenty stashed away to enjoy myself with. Let me give you a bit of advice. Get that worthless brother of yours out of that flat, and I will let you have it rent-free. In return, you can be my bit on the side, my significant other, in short, my bit of fluff. I could pop round, and we could make hay together very regularly. What do you think? Good idea, eh?’

I looked at him. My brain was numb. I had thought that I had not been very fortunate in my life, but now it came to this. He thought that I was only good enough to be his bit on the side. I may have been a bit short when God handed out brains, but no way was I going to have anything to do with this poor excuse for a man.

Without another thought, I picked up his pint of lager and poured it over his head.

His look of shock was enough to make up for this evening's disastrous date. I got up and walked out of the restaurant. I could hear him shouting behind me as I walked past the shocked diners. His voice was ringing in my ears.

‘I want you and that waste of a brother out of that flat by the morning, you bitch.’

As I went through the swing doors of the restaurant into the cold night air, it hit me. I was homeless again, and I didn’t have a clue as to what I could do about it.