Welcome

Hello and thank you for visiting my blog. Well it is not so much a blog more a place to share all the things i have written, drawn and generaly played with over the last 10 years. Most of them are related to my love of smooth slick Latex and shiny PVC, as well as the delights of feminization. I also have a huge crush on British TV presenter Carol Vorderman (The perfect model of the older woman) as well as the gorgeous Keira Knightley. (more my age). There will be nothing harsh or nasty here, just fun things, naughty things, sexy things and yes, well, Kinky things. Basically it's a stroll through the kinky lanes of my mind. hope you have fun. XXX

Please help keep our blog alive.
Please read and consider a donation to help fund our blog

Translate

Wednesday, 1 October 2025

Wednesday fun

Please help keep 
our blog alive.
From only $4 a month






Hi Everyone
   Welcome to a wednesday round up with some fun pieces from faces old and new. We have Translations from the lovely Girlie Morgane and few fun images from long time reader Matty Caff. We get tyhe shiny lens out again and then we have one of my fave stories  story from Skinnie stallion and that is saying something.
   But before we go on I would like you to be prepared because over the coming weeks we will have other writers to join the fun. I am trying to get time to read Mistress Leather Beths latest offering, which I have no doubt at all will be amazing, plus our dear friend Notatrog has written a quite superb piece weaving my art together with a little twist. Bu tI will let Notatrog explain that in a few weeks.
In the meantime.


Lets kick off with some fun from Girlie Morgane




Before Amanda Holden and Rhys Jenner Andy was too sweet to eat


Now 3 little pieces from Matty Caff





Now lets take that shiny lens and cast it across some of out favourite blog legends and who's this? It's only out most beautiful future Queen,the stunning  Princess Catherine. She is so beautiful
  

But wait....is that the Queen of the blog? we cast the Lens and this is what happens 



What's that you say? it would not be the same without who?
Well here is Vorder's as featured in a recent magazine piece. Doe's anyone remember this moment? 
 

Enough of this frippery I hear you cry, where is Skinnie and that story based on art created for the patreon featuring the Hermione Doll
 Be calm for here it is
Enjoy
XXX
Andy


Hermione Stranger: Hermione Danger 

By Skinnie Stallion    

(Version 2)

1. Thursday morning


Rachel was very happy with how Steve had turned out.   With a clear, invisible coat rather than their standard black latex epoxy, the workshops had done him proud.   The Emma Watson mask and wig designed by the make-up girls looked perfect.   She’d enjoyed dressing Steve before the shift started.  As she expected, the girls in the workshop had already plugged him.   She asked maintenance to mount him on the podium and brought out the ‘My Hermione Barbie’ banner.  She wanted to get Steve out on the floor and management sign-off before doors opened.  


When she was happy that she’d got Steve positioned just right, she asked her floor supervisor to come over.   She was easy to spot in her pink blazer briefing some of the newer B&K Boys.  “So this is what I’ve done for the Dollification promotion, Madam Stamp” she advised.  “I present to you the ‘My Hermione Barbie’.  With the 25th anniversary next year, we thought the Emma Watson doll template would be ideal to use in a dedicated promotion for the new My Barbie Boy Dollification range.”



Rachel waited nervously while Madam Stamp inspected the display.  Anything going out on the floor needed her approval.  Rachel’s nerves settled quickly as she watched a beaming smile grow on her supervisor’s face.  “That’s very impressive Rachel.   Choose four from those whose guardians failed to tick the ‘No Display’ option.”   She examined again the startled face of the mannequin.   “God, I love that.  Is that really Steve Ranger in there?  I wouldn’t have known.   Have you needed to put his Hummer on high to achieve that look or is it in the mould?”


“Mostly in the mould, but I did think keeping him on a medium setting will be nice for him and help to keep his mouth gaping,” replied Rachel turning at the sound of the shutters going up and store’s doors opening.  


“Good idea,” agreed Madam Stamp.  “It could get very messy if he’s on high all day.  A few little moans won’t matter.”  


“Should I speak to HR to go through the boys’ application forms?” Rachel asked.


“Yes, please do.”  Both Madam Stamp and Rachel noted that a small crowd was starting to form around them and the display.  There was already a buzz of excitement developing. “And don’t take too long about it.   If you can’t find any with ‘No Display’ unchecked, just select some of the newest Boys, or more experienced ones who may like going back to being mannequins.   I’m sure many of our Boys long to look like Emma Watson, especially an Emma Watson in latex.  I want them out on the floor by tomorrow afternoon, if possible, to catch the weekend shoppers.  And Rachel, darling ….”


“Yes, Madam Stamp?” answered with surprise; she was unused to be called ‘darling’ by Madam Stamp.  She was clearly in her good books today.


“Transparent is fine for the upper half and as an undercoat, but please have the boys dipped up to the waist in our traditional black. I think the Emmas’ legs would look better if they were wearing black latex stockings and they’ll blend in better with our standard mannequins.”

“Yes, Madam Stamp,” replied Rachel already wondering why she hadn’t thought of that herself.  Shiny black latex legs would look better.  She guessed that was why Madam Stamp was a supervisor and she wasn’t.   Maybe it would come with experience.



2. Saturday morning


As he shaved his legs, Oscar hoped that this was going to be his big break.   If he could just get the inside story, he could stop being a freelance.  He could become the youngest cub reporter on the Argus.   The story might even find its way to Fleet Street.   He just needed to get that scoop.   


Yesterday he’d heard about the crush outside one of the stores in town.   He’d tried to get through the crowds but it was too near closing time and they weren’t allowing any more people into the store.   Bergman and Knightley.  A fashion store.  An upmarket fashion store.   Very exclusive.   And yet there were hordes of young girls and boys outside, and many older women.   There was lots of talk about Harry Potter and Hermione.  It seemed as if Bergman and Knightley had become like Madam Tussaud’s.   But what had caught his ear was a rumour.   A familiar rumour that he’d heard before in some bars.   He’d even heard something similar in the playground when he was still ay school from boys who had Saturday jobs or had older brothers.  Rumours that some of the sales assistants at Bergman and Knightley were actually boys.  Rumours that some of the mannequins on the shop floor were actually boys encased in a hard lacquer.  He had to get into the store today and find out of the rumours were true.   He had to get that story.



3. Sunday morning


Rachel knocked hesitantly on Madam Short’s door.  She hated going to see the Floor Manager but Sunday was Madam Stamp’s day off this week. There was a pause then a peremptory bark of “Enter.”  Simone went in feeling like a naughty schoolgirl on the carpet before the Headmistress for a reprimand or punishment.  “What is it?” the stern looking blonde lady asked.  “Chloe, isn’t it?  Chloe Collins?”

Simone couldn’t help but be impressed by how Madam Short remembered the names of all the floor staff: all the more permanent B&K Girls like her, and all the B&K Boys even the new ones despite the numbers coming though these days.  “It’s about the Hermiones for the Dollification Promotion, Madam Short.”

“What about the Hermiones?” the martinet asked sternly.


“Well, when I spoke to my supervisor during the week, she wanted four of the new Hermiones put out on the floor.”


“Yes, Madam Stamp told me.   Very fitting they look too.  Perfect for our Emma Watson tribute.  We do need to catch up with B⚥y? in that regard.”

“So I arranged on Friday to put out Nigel Ford, Steve Ranger, Jacob Nightingale and Simone Simmons.  None of them had ticked the right boxes except Simone who volunteered to be a Hermione.   Madam Stamp had wanted the Hermiones to have latex coated legs like our other mannequins so I needed to get Nigel and Simone dipped, Steve redipped, and Jacob solvent dipped to take off his full black epoxy coat then redipped in transparent and then black dipped to the waist.”


“This is all very commendable Miss Collins, but what are you trying to tell me?”


“Well, the workshops managed to redip Steve overnight on Thursday, and dip and plug Nigel on Friday morning so that he was out for the lunchtime shoppers.”

“Yes, both looked very fetching,” commented Madam Short.   “There were so many people in the store yesterday afternoon after the schools finished for the day. Word must’ve got around quickly.  So many young girls wanting to see the Hermiones.”


“Yes, but the workshops got rather stuck on Jacob.   It took longer than they expected getting him clean in the solvent tank so that they didn’t manage to dip him again till yesterday evening, and they never got to Simone.”


“So that was why we still only had two Hermiones out on Saturday?” queried Madam Short.

“That’s right,” confirmed Rachel.   “I let Simone go home yesterday evening since she had a date with her boyfriend, and I thought it would be nice for her to get a good hard fucking before she spends the next six weeks as a plugged Hermione Barbie Doll.”


“Quite,” agreed Madam Stamp.  “But I’m still not clear what the problem is, Miss Collins.”


“Well, last night we had two Hermiones on the shop floor.   This morning we have three.”


“What!?” exclaimed Madam Short.

“We now have three Hermiones.”

“Yes, I heard you the first time.  But how?” challenged Madam Short.


“I don’t know.  I checked the workshops and Jacob is hung up over the drip tray drying, and enjoying a few last moments with his plug on high before he’s dressed and put out on the floor.  I called Danielle on her mobile and she was still in bed with her boyfriend getting what sounded like a very nice wake-up call.  So somehow, we’ve acquired a new Hermione overnight.”

“You have to show me,” commanded Madam Short standing up from her desk and marching towards her office door.   Rachel followed.   It was obvious Madam Short was on the warpath.


Rachel guided Madam Short across the floor to the first station.  “So this is Nigel Ford.  I posed him as Hermione about to duel: legs spread and wand erect.”

“Excellent.  If it weren’t for this difficulty, I’d be proposing to Madam Stamp that you and he receive a bonus for this alone.  He looks so dynamic.  Quite the action doll.   That’s how we want customers to see our Dollies.”

“Thank you Madam Short.”



“Hold on, you haven’t got it yet, young lady.  Who’s next?  We need to get this sorted before the store opens.  Thank goodness for ten o’clock opening on Sunday.”


Rachel shepherded Madam Stamp towards the second stand where a Hermione stood proudly in a latex robe bearing her Gryffindor crest.  A wide eyed, slightly startled look was etched on the Hermione’s face.


“This Steve Ranger,” said Rachel.



“Very nice too,” said Madam Short, “ but where’s his wand?”


“I don’t know, Madam Short.  I’m sure he had one yesterday at closing, but the schoolgirls do keep taking them.   I carry a few spares on me because of all the replacements we’ve needed,” said Rachel reaching behind her to draw a wand from her waistband.


“No, leave it for now,” said Madam Stamp.   “Let me see the third please.”


Rachel led her across to a platform without a banner beside it.  “This is our mystery Hermione.”


“I see” said Madam Short looking closely at the unlabelled Hermione doll in a perfect latex dress brandishing a wand.  She turned to look at the other two Hermiones.   Rachel stayed silent while Madam Short pondered.  Eventually she spoke, “Not quite a three pipe problem, as Sherlock Holmes used to say, but a poser nevertheless.  You said that Madam Stamp had wanted all the Hermiones to be black latex dipped to the waist.”



“Yes, Madam Short,” replied Rachel.


“And plugged too?”


“Yes,” said Rachel,  “with our standard Hummingbird.”


“Hmmm.  Please can you call Security, Miss Collins?”


“Certainly Madam Short.”  Rachel worried that the Guards were going to be for her and that she about to be put into the disciplinary system.   She returned shortly accompanied by several security guards.  Others appeared to cover the exits.  


“Now let’s go back to Steve Ranger again, please?”   As they strolled back to the second stand, Madam Short said, “I assume you leave their Hummers off overnight.  Is that correct?” 


“Yes, Madam Short,” confirmed Rachel.


“Good.   Please turn Steve’s Hummer up to Maximum Thrust,” instructed Madam Stamp as they stood beside the robed mannequin.


“Maximum?  No build up?  And Thrust not Vibrate?” enquired Rachel, aware of what a fierce jolt it would give the boy.


“Maximum Thrust!” repeated Madam Short sounding like a drill sergeant.  “And that was an order not a request.”    Rachel moved the slider on her iPad.   A few yards away there was first a moan as the unlabelled Hermione convulsed and then a crash as the mannequin toppled sideways to the ground.  Security raced to pick-up the collapsed boy.  


Rachel was shocked.   Steve Ranger hadn’t moved.   “Turn it down now, please,” ordered Madam Stamp.   While Rachel adjusted the slider again, Madam Short stood behind Steve and eased aside his Hermione robe.   “I thought you said, all Hermiones were black latex dipped to the waist and plugged.”  Before Rachel could reply, Madam Short thrust a finger upwards through his latex panties into his bottom.   “But seemingly not as this one,” as a male voice screamed out in excruciating pain.



4. Sunday Afternoon 


Rachel had never been so grateful that Sunday was a short day and that the store closed at three o’clock.   It might have been a short day but it had been eventful.   Eventful but with a bonus: she would soon have five Hermiones on the shop floor for the Dollification promotion.


The interrogation hadn’t taken long.   The impostor had been bundled into a back room by Security.   It might be a medieval approach but Madam Short knew that the old instruments worked without fail: he cracked merely at the sight of the anal pear.   He immediately blurted that he was a reporter trying to infiltrate Bergman and Knightley.  A reporter intent on defaming Bergman and Knightley and its good work with young men. He’d got into the store on Saturday and had hidden at closing time   The workshop had been locked but he’d found an Emily Watson mask in a side-room. He’d taken a Hermione dress from the racks and then shuffled poor Steve aside to assume his place.   Somehow he’d eluded Security who must’ve mistaken him for one of the ‘regular’ Hermiones.  He protested that they couldn’t detain him but Madam Short had other ideas when he revealed he was just a freelance and no-one knew about the story he was working on.  


By eleven o’clock, Jacob was dressed and out on the shop floor.   By twelve o’clock, the intruder had been plugged and dipped.  By two o’clock, he was dry and Rachel started to dress him.   By three o’clock after closing, maintenance were ready to move him out on to floor to be in place for opening on Monday.  At four o’clock, Rachel admired her handiwork and adjusted the slider on her iPad.   Oscar would have gasped as the plug in his bottom started to vibrate except he couldn’t.  He was unable to move his jaw.  His whole body was held rigid in a latex epoxy casing but Rachel could see him quivering.   Everything was in working order.  She lowered the vibration setting and gave him a little good night kiss.   Her newest and unplanned Hermione. 





As Rachel sat on her bus home, she opened her iPad and Oscar’s Hummingbird surged back into life.   Oscar couldn’t believe what was happening to him.   His investigation had turned into a nightmare.  He was trapped.  No-one knew he was here.  No-one would recognise him behind his Emma Watson mask.   And despite all that, he was being remotely teased into a state of sexual excitement like he’d never experienced before.  He would have been embarrassed except there was no-one to see him or know it was him in the deserted store.


And it had all been a waste of time.   There was never going to be a scoop.   Apparently it was common knowledge that Bergman and Knightley as their sales assistants.   It just happened that  Bergman’s dressed them all as girls.  How had he missed that?


As he soundlessly moaned with pleasure and despair at the relentless pulse of his Hummingbird, little did he know that tomorrow morning, the Bergman and Knightley Sales Team would be posting his details in their next auction catalogue.   While he might not be a trained B&K Boy, there were buyers and Harry Potter fans in the Far East who would appreciate their very own Hermione Doll.   In six week’s time, part of his wish would be fulfilled: he’d no longer be a Hermione mannequin on the shop floor.   Instead, in six week’s time, he would be sold, crated and despatched to an ardent Emma Watson fan for a handsome price.  There was a story to be had about human traffic if he had known.  Now he would become his very own story.







XXXXXX

Monday, 29 September 2025

New Art. 3 Hours

    Please help keep 
our blog alive.
From only $4 a month



On Patreon Today.
The delights of
Christeen's art
never get old and 
today we get to 
enjoy a brand 
new Patreon
exclusive.






Hi Everyone
  Ok quick thing. I'll be away doing fun things for a few days with a friend 😉 but I will be back and in the meantime I will leave lots of fun both here and over on Patreon.

   So lets see what we have today. Well it's the full and complete version of a piece shared on Patreon. The first pice I have created in an long time and it is a simple sweet thing, featuring our sweet Hero/Heroine  kind of wishing he had not come home form college so promptly. Aunt Jane is awaiting with a treat......well they would be a treat if only he knew it.

Biggest hugs
XXX
Andy

PS 
Tune in Wednesday.

XX






Friday, 26 September 2025

Feet Up Friday With Christeen

   Please help keep 
our blog alive.
From only $4 a month





On Patreon Today
Unbelievably it's 
the last Friday of 
the month and that
means we need
to get ready for
october with the
latest page of our 
exclusive calendar.
And this a Fairytale
come true.



Hi Everyone
  So we have made it to Friday and our reward is to lay back and enjoy some super new art from our friend Christeen.
  Happy Friday 
XXX
Andy










Monday, 22 September 2025

A Monday Treat

  Please help keep 
our blog alive.
From only $4 a month





On Patreon Today
It's Monday Monday
and that means a super
new piece of art from
our dear friend Christeen.
This piece ,as with all
the others is especially
chosen by Christeen
as exclusive preview
for Patreon readers
and I ma so very
grateful for them all.






Hi Everyone
  A we had that brak of a few weeks it will take a week or two to get back into the usual rhythm, bau that just means we can get to enjoy some other bits and bobs this Monday .
  Bits and bobs don't come much better than a story from Skinnie Stallion and this one is a little different as it is based on a Patreon Exclusive for the wold of Bergman & Knightley and if you have not yet popped in for a visit to the store slip over to Patreon and enjoy the ladies hospitality.
  Now I have done my very best to preserve the formatting of the images as laid out by Skinnie, but for some reason it is a real struggle to load images with the word, buts it's the very best I can do.
  Its a shame thing have to be updated or mucked about with by Blogger.
 Anyway, this is a real Monday treat and I hope you enjoy it.
XX
Andy



Mother’s Love

By Skinnie Stallion



  1. Sunday

Only the second day of the half-term break and Rachel was already at her wit’s end.   What was she going to do about Josh?  He’d become such a handful.  He wouldn’t study.  He wouldn’t help around the house.  She despaired of him.  All it seemed he wanted to do was mope around the house and read magazines.  Her magazines.

He refused to fill in any university applications.  He wouldn’t even register on the UCAS system.  Not that she was sure it was necessary: his school reports last summer had been poor, the forecast of his results worse.  Parents’ Evening last week had been an embarrassment.  There was a consistent theme across all subjects: ‘Josh needs to apply himself’, ‘Josh needs to concentrate’, ‘Shows little improvement over last year’, ‘Unless his coursework improves, even a pass at A-Level may be in jeopardy’, ‘For a boy of such obvious ability, he continues to disappoint’.   Even Sport, where he used to excel, had gone down-hill: ‘Reluctant to train. Needs to get stuck in.  Despite obvious ball skills, will soon lose his place in the 2nd team.’    The only positive messages came from the young Art mistress:  ‘Obviously talented.   Needs to stay focused and not stare into space.   His sketchbook contains some superb drawings, but unrelated to building his portfolio.  He needs to understand that the A-Level syllabus does not include a module on fashion and dress design.’

Rachel looked out of the window.  Josh was wandering around the lawn around giving his football the odd, desultory tap.   After many entreaties, she’d persuaded him to put on his football kit and go outside in the garden for a kick-around where at least he’d get some fresh air.  She’d offered to ring some other mums to see if his friends wanted to join him but he’d not been keen.  

Something seemed to change when he started his A-Levels.  Was it puberty?  It hadn’t seemed dramatic.  His growth spurt last year had left him lagging behind or rather below his friends.  From being of similar height, he was now a good four to six inches shorter than many of his classmates.   Even many of the girls were taller than him. His voice had dropped a bit and he was healthy, but he looked so slight she was concerned the school might think he was undernourished.

His personality had changed too.  He’d gone from being lively and talkative when he was doing his GCSEs, to spending time alone in his bedroom.   Or hers.   She sometimes found him upstairs looking through her closets.  He was always too embarrassed to explain himself.   He normally just ran to his room and closed the door.

She worried that he was being bullied.  She wished he’d talk to her.   It was hard to know what to do.   Nothing was mentioned at Parents’ Evening and she didn’t want to cause a fuss when he never complained or indicated that anything was amiss.   As a single mum, it almost made her wish that there was  a father to offer advice and counsel but she’d brought up Josh on her own with only Mummy’s help.

She would have despaired about the next ten days but at least he’d be staying with her mother during the day while she was at work next week.  Mummy was good with Josh.   Always had been.   Josh liked spending time with his granny’s house.  Mummy probably had more patience with him, or simply knew she could hand him back to Rachel at the end of the day.   Maybe Mummy would be better at telling Josh that if he wasn’t going to University next Autumn, he was going to have to get a job, and that he’d better start applying soon.

2.   Monday evening

Two things struck Rachel when her mother brought Josh home on Monday evening.   The first was immediate and obvious, visible before Josh even got out of her car: he was smiling.  Not just smiling, he was laughing.  He looked happy like he hadn’t looked in days.   He seemed more subdued when he saw her and she only got an offhand “Hi, mum,” as he walked up the front path clutching his rucksack. 

The second was apparent when her Mother emerged from the driver’s side of the car.   Orla was wearing a pair of tight, shiny burgundy coloured pants and matching jacket.  “Aren’t you forgetting something, Josh?” she said.

“Sorry, Gran.” Josh scurried back to the car and gave Orla a big kiss on the cheek.

“You’re such a sweetie,” said her mother with surprising emphasis and gave Josh a very light pat on the backside.   

He scurried back up the path, turning to say: “Thanks, Gran. Thanks for a lovely day,” with a lovely smile.  

“Where’s mine?” asked Rachel as he tried to sidle past her.   Josh gave her a perfunctory peck, and then scampered upstairs.

“Hello Mummy,” said Rachel as her mother came to the gate for a chat.  “Five questions, Mum.   One: have you had a good day?   Two: has Josh been OK?  Three: what have you two been doing today?  Josh seems like a different boy.  Four: have you fed him?  And five:  where did you get those terrific pants?   You look amazing.   And can you do One and Five first, please?” she teased.  

“Rachel, do you always have to be so organised and precise?   You’re not at work now.”

“Sorry, mum.   Force of habit.  Once a Project Manager, always a Project Manager.  Must be the way you brought me up,” she teased.

“Anyway, to answer your questions: Yes, and Josh has been fine.   They’re so lovely.  You must be so proud of them, and so brave.”

“Brave?   That’s not a word I’d associate with Josh these days.   At Parents’ Evening, the games master said he seemed afraid of tackling people in soccer matches.”

“There’s brave and there’s brave.”

A person wearing a red leather pants

AI-generated content may be incorrect.“If you say so, Mummy.   I still don’t see it.”  

“Well, we chatted and watched some things on NetFlix after Josh had read some of their school books.”

“He what!?”

“They did some schoolwork.”

“That’s a first.”

“Well, they seemed fine with that.  And chatted some more.   And yes, Josh has had tea.”

“Thanks, Mum.  And you’ve still not answered about your pants.”

“Oh, these.   Do you like them?”

“I adore them.   But do you think they’re appropriate.”

“Darling, of course they’re ‘appropriate’.   Whatever makes you say that?”

“Well, they’re so shiny.   They’re real attention grabbers.   People will look at you.”

“And …..?”

“But Mummy!   You know what I mean Mummy!”

“Rachel, it’s been five years since Michael died.   I know it’s sad but I decided over the summer that it was time to move on.   In fact it was Josh who helped me.   They showed me these new styles when we were going through their sketchpad.”

“Really?   Josh?”

“Yes, Josh knows so much about modern fashion.”

“Does he?”

“Yes.  You really should talk to them more.”

“I try but he never wants to talk to me.”

“Just ask them to show you their sketchpad.   They’ll talk.”  

“Really?”

“Yes.   They may even show you their private sketchpad.”

“Private Sketchpad?  I didn’t know he had one.”

“There’s such a lot you don’t know Rachel.”

“Like why my Mum is wearing such sexy pants?”

“Maybe.  And more besides.   You just need to open your eyes, Rachel, and think about something other than work.”

“If you say so.   On the subject of work, did you speak to Josh about getting jobs if he’s not going to Uni.”

“Yes, Josh is fine with that.   I don’t think Josh is ready for university in any case.”  Orla started to turn towards the front gate.  “Look honey, I must dash.  I’m meeting a friend at a bar in town at seven.”

“A friend.   Which friend?  And dressed like that.”

“Just a friend.  No-one you know.   And most definitely dressed like that.   I’ll pick-up Josh tomorrow.  Same time as usual.   We’re going shopping.”

“Shopping!   Josh never wants to go shopping!”

“Josh does want.  It was their decision.   Look, I must dash.   Bye for now, darling.”   Orla closed the gate and went back to her car. 

Rachel couldn't believe what she’d just heard and seen.   Josh doing schoolwork?  Josh being co-operative?   Josh being communicative?  Josh wanting to go shopping?  It almost sounded like he was back to his old self.  And did she spot that her mother was wearing heels?   Orla never wore heels: she was always in something practical like flats or trainers.   And why had she kept referring to Josh as they or them?


3.   Tuesday evening

Only Tuesday and Rachel felt tired.  Why were Tuesdays always worse than Mondays?    She felt weary as she opened the door to Josh who looked even happier than yesterday.   He wore a beaming smile as he gave Orla an even bigger kiss.   And what was her mother wearing?   The white blouse and pink jacket were fine, even if the pink was a bit showy, but the skirt.   The skirt!  A black knee-length pencil skirt. It looked even more shiny than yesterday’s pants.  It glistened in the sunlight and looked far too tight.  She could only take short steps, and even those required one foot directly in front of the other.   She was walking like some catwalk model, not helped by her ankle boots.   Heels again.   High heels.  She might have looked good in those burgundy pants but she was going to have to caution her mother about wearing clothes that were unsuitable and far too young for her.

“So did you look at Josh’s sketchbook last night?” asked Orla after Josh had gone inside to watch TV.

“Well, I looked in his rucksack while he was having breakfast.”

“You did what?  Didn’t you ask Josh?”

“Sorry mum, I wasn’t sure.   I didn't want him to say no.”

“You can be such a silly girl, Rachel.   You should have asked their permission.”

“I guess, but I didn’t want another tantrum.   I offered to help him  clean his room last night and he exploded.   He didn’t want me going in.”

“Just let them be.  It’ll take time.  So what did you think of the sketches.”

“I only flicked through but they looked really good.   So many pictures of girls in dresses.”   

“Yes.   Anything else?”

“It looks like he has a real eye for fashion.”

“Most definitely.  And…?”

“I can see why his teacher complained about him not staying focused on his course work.”

“Oh Rachel, you need to look closer.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I said, you need to take bit more time.   Everything has to be so quick with you.  You may be a project manager, but speed isn’t everything.  Though saying that, I need to get going.”

“Why?  I thought we could stay and chat.   I wanted to find out about your shopping trip.”

“Sorry, I’m out for dinner.”

“Who with?”

“Oh, no-one you know.   Just a friend.”

“The same friend as last night?”

“Maybe,” replied Orla cryptically.

“But you can’t go out to a restaurant dressed like that!”

“Why ever not?”

“You look like some …. some……”

“Spit it out, darling.”

“Some young tart!”

“Thank you darling,” Orla said with a smile.   “That’s one of the nicest compliments you’ve given me.   I’ll take ‘young’ any day.  And ‘tart’?  Well, let’s see after tonight.”

“Mummy!   You are awful!   Where did you get that skirt?”

“Why?  Do you want one yourself?”

“Er….”  Rachel paused.  Secretly she longed to try her mum’s skirt and yesterday’s pants.   Trouser suits for work and jeans at home might be practical but were so boring, day after day the same.  

“A place called Bergman and Knightley.   It was Josh who suggested we go there.”

“Josh?”

“Yes, Josh.   Like you said, ‘he has a real eye’.   Must dash.   Bye, bye, darling.”

After Josh had gone to bed, Rachel looked up Bergman and Knightley.   Her eyes nearly popped open.   She had some vague memory of seeing a spread about them in the local rag when they opened their store in town some months ago.   Maybe something in VOGUE too.   She didn’t know why she bothered to keep her VOGUE subscription.   She hardly ever read it, and most months her copy seemed to disappear, though she could never remember putting it in the recycling.    

She’d have to have another look at Josh’s sketchbook tomorrow morning.

4.  Wednesday evening

Bye Gran.   Thanks for great day.”  He held his grandmother’s hand who pulled him close and kissed him.   “Thanks for everything,” he said with a wink and kissed her back.   He ran past Rachel with a spring in his step, pausing only to give her the briefest of pecks.

“What was that all about?” asked Rachel.   There was something different about Josh, she thought, but he went past so quickly, she couldn't place it.

“Oh, nothing, darling.  Josh will tell you all about it.   We had another shopping day.   I wanted to go back to B&K and so did Josh.”

“B&K?”   

“Yes, B&K.  The place I told you about yesterday: Bergman and Knightley.”

“Again?   I looked on-line yesterday and they seem mostly to sell what I can only describe as fetish wear.  It’s all latex, and leather, and PVC.”

“Not all, darling.   They do lots of other fabrics although they do rather specialise in latex and PVC.”

“And leather,” added Rachel staring at her mother’s midi-length pencil skirt.

“Yes, and leather,”  accepted Orla But they do make-up, and shoes, and lingerie ….”

“…. in latex and leather…”

“And lace and cotton…”

“…. and PVC.”

“If you insist.   You do seem rather obsessed about their stylings.   B&K does have a rather lovely coffee shop on the top floor.  Josh adores their spiced latte and cinnamon buns.”

“He can get that at GAIL’s.”

“Maybe, but the staff and the view are much nicer at B&K.”

“Are they really?  I don’t want you leading Josh astray.”

“I think it’s more Josh leading me.  They’ve helped me to discover a whole new side.”

“Really.   I had another look at his sketchbook this morning.”

"What did you see this time?"


"His face.  His face is there.  He's drawn his face."


"You noticed."


"Every figure.  Every model. Every pose.  It's him.  Him wearing a dress.  Him wearing lingerie."


“Yes.”

"I couldn't believe it.  What does that make him?  Some kind of pervert?”

“Hardly.”

“A twink, then."


"That’s a rather ugly description, Rachel."


"OK then, gay.  Is he gay?"

"I wouldn’t necessarily say gay.  Non-binary is probably better.  Josh is certainly different.”

“Different as in drawing pictures of himself in women’s clothing.”


“Think about it some more, honey.   You really must have a proper chat with him tonight.”


“Why doesn’t he have a chat with me, then?”


“Because they haven’t known how.   They’ve been so worried.”

“Worried?   He’d be better working than worrying.”

“You can be very hard at times.  Just sit down and talk but, more importantly, listen.”


“To hear from my non-binary son.”

“Josh is just finding their way.   If you find that difficult, think of them someone who’s uncomfortable in their current body.  Someone who’s confused and trying to work things out.   Exploring possibilities.”

“He’s not been having sex has he?  Not gay sex?”

“No darling.  At least not yet.  Don’t jump ahead.  Josh doesn’t quite know what they want or what they fancy except wanting to be more feminine and wear more feminine clothes.  They’re so confused.”


“He’s a sissy, then.”


“If you must, but a gentle, kind soul who’s very nervous and wary of the world.”

“So why did you go back to Bergman and Knightley, today?   And don’t tell me for cinnamon buns.”

“When we were browsing yesterday, there was a sign in the window advertising for staff.   Josh wanted to go back and ask them about jobs.”

“Josh ask about jobs!   That’s the first time he’s been proactive about anything recently.”

“So be happy then.   Josh has got an interview on Friday morning.”

“An interview!   An interview!   Rachel started to babble with anxious excitement.   “He’ll need to prepare.  He’ll need to look smart.  He’ll need a haircut.  He’ll need to think about questions….”

“Calm down!   I’ve already been through all that with Josh.   They have an appointment at the B&K salon tomorrow.   I’ll sort out some clothes too.  They’ll go in on Friday looking like an ideal candidate.   Now why don’t we go inside and have a chat with Josh?   They’ve already gone in to put the kettle on.   Josh wants me there, at least at the start.   I’ll then leave you two to talk.   I don’t want to get in the way..   I just ask you to think before you speak.  Josh loves you so much and doesn’t want to hurt or disappoint you.”


Rachel followed her mother into the house.   She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.   


Orla sat between them on the sofa as they talked, holding their hands as the tears came - tears not of sorrow but of release,  tears of love - sat between them like the wise lady she was.  And then she’d stood up and brought  their hands together, and then they hugged.  Rachel felt so proud of Josh.   Proud that they could talk to her.   Finally understanding Josh’s doubts and uncertainties.  Understanding their unhappiness and difficulties.   Accepting that there didn’t need to be a plan.     She hugged her boy.   A boy yet not a boy.  Her girl, but not a  girl.  Not now, not yet at anyways.  


And then they were both hugging Orla.  Rachel had never been more appreciative of her mother: a mother who listened.  A mother with patience.  A mother who’d guided her and loved her.  A mother who’d helped her when she was a single parent and didn’t judge, and didn’t criticise.   Didn’t criticise her mistakes.  Josh had been the fruit of one of those  mistakes.   The happiest mistake she’d ever made.   She needed to love Josh like Orla had loved and still loved her: a mother’s love.


Josh was hugging her too, tears streaming down his face, eyeliner and mascara and leaving watery grey trails down their cheeks.  She’d known there was something different about Josh earlier but hadn’t looked.  Hadn’t looked closely enough.  Hadn’t looked properly.  He was wearing eye make-up.   


Josh had talked.   Talked and talked.   Orla had left them after a while.  She was meeting a friend again.  Another friend?   Rachel didn’t bother asking.   She just complimented Orla on how she looked.   Admired her skirt and leather jacket  - more B&K purchases, no doubt – and hoped she had a good evening.  Despite herself, she couldn't resist saying a cautionary, “Take care, mum.   Don't do anything I wouldn’t do,” albeit jovially and light-heartedly.


“Oh, I definitely intend to do that,” retorted Orla.  “There’s a lot of things I’ve found I like doing.    Aren’t there Josh?”

Josh sniggered.  “Yes, Gran.   Have fun, but do take care like Mum says.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” Orla said as her parting shot.


“What did she mean ‘there’s a lot of things I like doing’?” Rachel asked Josh as soon as her mother had left.


“Oh, mum!   You know!   All the sorts of things ladies do.   The sort of things ladies enjoy.   Gran’s got a new lease of life since I introduced her to Bergman and Knightley.”

“She certainly has that,” agreed Rachel.  “And a whole new wardrobe.” 


After talking for a couple of hours, Josh had taken Rachel up to his bedroom.   It was tidier than Rachel had imagined.  Rachel spotted a stack of VOGUEs piled in a corner.  She declined their return: her magazines had found a good home.  They sat on the bed and went through Josh’s Sketchbook, and then their Private Sketchbook.   There were more tears as Josh revealed his most secret desires, uncertain whether they were desires or fantasies.    But desire to be something other than what they were.  


Then Josh brought out from under the bed his shoebox containing little devices that he’d taken to wearing since the summer.  He showed her without embarrassment.  They were past that.  Showed her knowing that she’d understand.  Devices with different designs but the same purpose. Devices of diminishing size.  Devices that made him feel less like a boy.  Devices that helped suppress some of his boyish instincts and made him feel less ugly.   Devices that hid that ‘thing’ but left him frustrated.  Devices that made it uncomfortable playing football.  Devices that meant he couldn’t get muddy or go in the showers when he played football.  Padlocked devices.  Padlocked with keys that resided safely in his bedside drawer.  Devices that needed to stay locked.    Rachel kissed and hugged Josh.  Her poor darling.   So confused.   And she’d not known.   How had she not known?  Why hadn’t Josh been able to tell her.  Had Orla known?   Had it been a confidence between Orla and Josh?   


Rachel cried.  Now it was Josh’s turn to comfort her.   How had she got it so wrong?   She’d always made assumptions about what he was doing when he went upstairs to his bedroom ‘   Looking at pictures of models in VOGUE, or stuff on the internet.   If only she’d thought.  If only she’d observed and listened.   If only she’d taken the time.   She was only just starting to understand the mortification and sacrifice that Josh had been putting themselves through.  He must have been so lonely and she hadn’t been there for him.


Rachel could see Josh was wanting to say something but seemed hesitant.  Rather than push them, she waited.   Eventually, it came: “Mum, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darling.”  After the evening’s revelations, Rachel was bracing herself for his question.


“Gran said I had to ask you.”


“Yes, darling, about what.”


“Mum …. Mum,” he hesitated and then blurted, “Mum can I get my ears pierced?”


Rachel sighed with relief.   “Of course darling, of course you can.”

“Thanks Mum.   Gran said you’d be Ok.   Thanks Mum, you’re the best.”


They’d chatted more.  Josh wanted to talk about earrings and dresses, and all kinds of everything but eventually Rachel insisted that it was time for bed. 


“You sleep in that thing?” she enquired.

“Yes, Mum.”


“Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“It was at first, but I’m used to it now.   It’s much easier now I’m wearing smaller sizes.”

“I wish you’d told me, Josh.”

“Don’t worry, Mum.  I have now.  I feel so relieved that I’ve told you.   Gran said it would be better.”


“It is, Josh, It is.   Now night, night, Josh.”  She kissed and hugged him.   “Sleep tight,” she said as she closed his bedroom door, only realising the dual meaning of what she said as she started down the stairs.



5.  Thursday afternoon


Rachel felt tired and drained after yesterday evening.  She had sat downstairs long into the night after they’d finished talking.   Quiet and pensive, she’d pondered on all that she’d heard.  There had been so much to absorb, so much to process.  Was it shock, or was it coming to terms with something she’d felt for a long time?     Her son was a sissy, or at least thought he was.  She’d always tried to dismiss the thought that Josh wasn’t like other boys.  Never played like other boys.   Didn’t share the same interests except football. Had she done something wrong, or was this just the way Josh was meant to be?   Why had Orla  seen this and not her?  And now he was going to being interviewed for a job at Bergman and Knightley.  


He would have been having a make-over this morning at Bergman and Knightley ahead of the interview.   She’d left it to Orla to organise.  Her mother seemed happy to pay too.   All she’d heard during the day was a couple of texts.   Her mother still used text despite Rachel’s entreaties to use WhatsApp.   ‘I’m just an old fashioned girl’, she’d say.  ‘I can’t keep up with all this modern technology.’   Old fashioned?   She could have fooled Rachel.   The way she was dressing was nothing like ‘old-fashioned’.   Cutting edge, more like.  


Think Josh should go blonde’ was all the message had said.  Rachel hadn’t replied.  She wasn’t going to disagree if that was what Josh wanted.   Now she was going to have a son with blonde hair and pierced ears.   In the past she’d have worried about what her mother would say.   Now it was her mother taking the lead.  How times had changed.  Two hours later she received another terse message: ‘Josh blonde’, and that was all.


A motorbike roared along the road.   ‘Bloody bikers,’ she thought, disturbing a quiet afternoon.  An engine revved several times outside the house and then fell silent.  Rachel went to the window to check what was going on.   Drawing back the net curtain, she saw the rider in red leather biker jacket was removing their helmet.  she couldn't believe her eyes: blonde hair was shaken and there was Orla.   Orla as a biker and in another pair of PVC pants, this time red rather than burgundy.   She couldn’t believe it.   She seemed to remember her mother once telling her that she’d ridden a bike after leaving college.  But this wasn’t some scooter, it was a proper biker’s bike, a Norton 961. Kids playing in the street gathered to admire the bike.   

A person in a red leather jacket

AI-generated content may be incorrect.

Some dads also appeared but their attentions were divided.  Not just between the bike and Orla, but the girl she was holding hands with.  A pretty blonde girl dressed in matching biker gear.   Rachel took a longer look and did a double-take.  That wasn’t a girl, it was Josh.   Josh like she’d never seen him.   She couldn’t believe she was looking at her boy.   So pretty.  So happy looking.   Josh as he wanted to be , and finally she understood.  This was Josh as he was meant to be: pretty, cute, and adorable.   She had never felt prouder.


Rachel could see that Orla was speaking to Josh but couldn’t lip read.  She went to open the front door to welcome them.   It meant she missed Orla saying to Josh:  “Your Mum is in for a bit of a shock, Josh.  You see the only thing I have really told her is that you have gone blonde.”

“Oh Gran!” exclaimed Josh, concerned about Rachel’s possible reaction.  

“Never mind, it won’t be the first time your Grandma has been in trouble with your Mum.”


Two women in red leather outfits

AI-generated content may be incorrect.


“What do you mean, Gran?”

“Oh, like that time I took you to Thorpe Park and you were sick on one of the roller-coasters.”

“That was ages ago, and I was only twelve.”

“I still don’t think she’s forgiven me though,” chuckled Orla.  “Anyway, let’s go and face the music,” she added seeing Rachel coming to the gate.


“Hello, you two.   Had a nice day?” asked Rachel looking them both up and down.   She realised not only Josh was wearing the same outfit as Orla, he had similar footwear too.  Both stood tall in shiny, cherry red dagger heeled ankle boots.   Josh was wearing heels.


“The best-est day ever!” said Josh.


Rachel turned to her mother.  “And you Mum?   How’s your day been?”

“I think the results speak for themselves,” Orla said, looking at Josh.  “Aren’t they pretty?”A person in a red leather jacket

AI-generated content may be incorrect.


“And the bike?”

“Oh that thing.    I thought it was time for a change.   My old bike has been gathering dust for years.  A bit like me.   I decided to trade it in and get a new model.  Do you think it suits the new me?”

“Perfectly.”  It wasn’t just Josh who looked happy.   Her mother looked radiant.  Spending time with Josh had been good for her.   Rachel felt she too needed to spend much more time with Josh.  


“Thank you darling.”


“And the biker gear suits you.  You look wonderful, Mum.   But did Josh really need a matching set?”


“Well, if I was going to be running him around town, it seemed sensible.   And he does look good in it, doesn’t he.”


“Yes, Mum.   I’ve never really seen it before, but he is pretty.   Very pretty.”

“A little foundation, some lipstick and eyeshadow can do wonders for a boy.   I’ll let Josh talk you through their make-over.  We’ve gone through possible interview questions, and I’ve sorted out an outfit for him to wear tomorrow.”

“I thought he could wear his school suit.”

“Oh, no.  Josh needs something far more appropriate if they’re applying to B&K.   I’ll pick them up at the normal time tomorrow.   I’ll be using the car though.  He can change and get ready at mine.  Anyway, must dash.  I’m out again tonight.”   Orla mounted the bike.  As she  straddled the machine and stood tall to kick-start the Norton she chuckled to Rachel, “It does feel nice to have something between my legs again.”   With that the machine sprang into life leaving a puzzled Rachel and a group of admiring kids and dads.


6.  Friday afternoon


Rachel had been on tenterhooks all day.  She’d rung her office to say she was going to work from home in the morning and take the afternoon off.   Part of her had wanted to take the morning off too and go with Josh to B&K to show her support but she’d thought it better to leave matters with Orla.   Her mother had arranged everything and had been guiding Josh through the interview process; for once Rachel knew it was better to stand back and leave matters in capable hands.   Work would keep her occupied and not fret.


She still couldn't believe Josh’s transformation: the sullen boy at the start of the week had blossomed into a new person.   Happy in themselves and in their own skin, and very happy in skin-tight PVC.  Never happier.   He did look wonderful and, she hesitated to think it of her own son, sexy in those pants.   The pants hugged his figure so tightly that she felt she had to ask him about his device thingy.  How could he look so … so … so damn feminine down there?   “Oh mum, I don’t need to wear one of those now.  I know what I am.   And the salesgirls at B&K showed me how to get smooth lines when I was in the fitting room.  They were so helpful.”   


‘I’ll bet they were,’ thought Rachel, who merely said “Really?” in acknowledgement.  He really did have beautifully smooth lines down there.  She thought better than to ask more.  


“And Mum, what do you think of my make-up?   Isn’t it fab?   They did me and Gran together.   We were side-by-side in the salon.   They put a bit more blush on me to highlight my cheekbones.   Do you like it?   Do you like what they’ve done?”


Rachel sighed.  Josh sounded as excited as any girl; as excited as she’d been when Orla had first allowed her to wear with lipstick and proud of her tentative daubs.  “You look lovely, darling.”  She had to accept he was beautiful, as beautiful as any girl.  Her beautiful high-heeled boy.   She was happy for him.


She heard them before she saw them and ran outside.   They were laughing and talking.   For some reason, Orla hadn’t parked outside the house.  It was as if she wanted to walk down the street for all to see.   Orla and a pretty young girl.  And what a sight they were.  Her mother, but her mother in tight black PVC pants and a white bolero blazer with the prettiest girl Rachel felt she’d ever seen.  A girl wearing a shiny, figure hugging, off-the shoulder pink dress with a matching pink bow in her hair. She tried to make out the fabric of the dress.  It folded and rippled as she walked.   It had to be made of latex: sheer pink latex.   A girl wearing pink high heels.  Courts like her mother’s with heels that had to be at least five inches high.   

The girl had flowing blonde hair.  Who was she?  As they got closer, she could see the girl was wearing earrings.  Teardrop amber and mother of pearl earrings dangled from her lobes.   That clinched it and Rachel let out a whoop of delight.   It was Josh.   Josh wearing a pair of her mother’s earrings, but his hair had changed again.   Gone was the pixie look of yesterday, in was flowing blonde hair.   He must have had hair extensions or be wearing a wig. “Darling, you look amazing,” she exclaimed as they got closer.  Yesterday he’d seemed a bit nervous when he got off Orla’s bike wearing those shiny red pants.   But at least they were pants.   Now he was wearing a drees and he didn’t seem to care if the neighbours saw him.    “How did it go?” she called.


“Good, I think.   At least they liked what I was wearing.”


“You can’t go wrong dressed in B&K,” added Orla.


“Well, you should know,” said Rachel.  “But what about the interview questions?”


 “Fine, I think,” said Josh.  “They seemed to like me.”


“When will you hear anything?” asked an excited Rachel.


“Soon, they said.   They’re seeing other candidates but they expect to make a decision today.   Now why don’t we have a nice cup of tea,” said Orla trying to calm things.   “Josh, why don’t you go up and change into your new football kit.  I’m sure Rachel would like to see it.   Maybe we could have a kick around later, although I’m not really wearing the right shoes.”


“Sure thing, Gran.”


As Josh sashayed indoors, an astonished Rachel asked, “How on earth have you got him to do that?   Keen to play football?”

“We went to a sports shop after the interview and I bought him the Chelsea strip.”

“So?” queried Rachel.


“The Chelsea Women’s strip.”   Rachel still looked puzzled prompting Orla to add, “For goodness sake Rachel, they’ve won the Treble this year.  Josh is very happy to be a Chelsea lady.”


An hour later, Rachel and Orla were stood in the garden watching Josh demonstrate his ball skills.   Seeing him dribble the ball, Rachel felt he was back to his old self.   It wasn’t just wearing the Chelsea strip but it helped.  So many things had helped.   “Even if Josh doesn’t get the job, aren’t you proud, Rachel?   Doesn’t Josh look wonderful?”


“Absolutely fabulous.   She’s perfect.”   She.   There she’d said it.  Not him.  Not they.  She.   Josh was a girl, at least as long as she wanted to be.    Rachel was proud of her.   Josh was so brave.   


A person with blonde hair

AI-generated content may be incorrect.When Rachel looked at how her mother was now dressing, she could see where Josh’s bravery came from.   While Orla had supported Josh, it seemed like Josh had been a strong influence on Orla.   She’d found herself.   It wasn’t just Josh who looked fabulous, so did Orla.   She’d been reinvigorated and found a new style and a new lease of life.   She looked twenty years younger.   More like an older sister than her mother.  Rachel realised that maybe she should loosen up and follow her mother’s example.   Josh’s influence might be good for her too.


Orla’s phone rang.   The call was over in less than a minute.  The smile growing on Orla’s face said it all.   She closed the call.  “Josh has got it.  They said that he will have to wait another 9 months, but they are very eager to have him.  It’s all done Rachel.   You are going to have a daughter.”


“Thanks, Mum,” said Rachel, barely able to contain her happiness.  

“A daughter in full -time employment as soon as they leave school.   And there’s more, 

Bergman and Knightley are not only offering Josh a full-time position next summer, but they’re proposing that Josh starts in a Saturday job as soon as possible to gain experience.”

“What kind of experience would that be?” asked Rachel.


“As a Saturday Girl.   They say Josh would fit right in.   I think you should go and tell him the good news, Rachel.”Two women standing in a park

AI-generated content may be incorrect.


“Why don’t we do it together?  After all, you put in all the hard work.”

“OK.   And can I suggest that we all go out together tonight to celebrate?  I’d like you meet my new girlfriend.”


A person in a suit

AI-generated content may be incorrect.“Girlfriend!  Mum, I thought you’d been meeting a man.”

“Oh no, honey.  Someone altogether nicer.  One of the managers at B&K.”

“Mummy!   You’re terrible!  Well, let me be a bit naughty too.  I’m going suggest that if we all go out together and Josh wears her interview dress, do you think she’d let me borrow her shiny red pants?  I’m dying to try them on.”

“You’ll have to ask Josh, but I think you’d look splendid in them. You will need to wear heels though.   We can’t have you in trainers and me and Josh in heels.” 

“Sure.”


“I can see you getting a complete B&K makeover if Josh is going to be working there.  Oh, and Rachel……”


“Yes, Mum?”


“B&K are suggesting that Josh is known as Jess or Decca.   Would you be OK with that?  I think Josh prefers Decca.”

“Sure.  Decca is nice.”   

Orla turned towards Josh, “Decca, Mummy’s got some good news for you.   And she has a question as well.”


Now it was Rachel’s turn to blush and get flustered.   But she was already looking forward to lots of girly chats with Decca.   Her Decca.