RELUCTANT PRESS

numbers as 'A Persian Market', 'Jealousy~, 'When Smoke gets in your Eyes', etc., etc. the sort of numbers sure to delight the matrons who went to the lounge on Saturday mornings to see and be seen and watch the mannequin parade between 10 and 11.30; the waitresses were pretty and the iced cakes like pink ambrosia.

I adored the place as Mom took me there quite frequently. "What if I have to use the loo?" I said, somewhat breathlessly.

"So what if you do," replied Doreen, even a little crossly. "And if you do have to go go to the LADIES, it'll make the adventure so much more memorable. Doug dear, please believe us, you make a PERFECT woman and are quite unrecognizable as you are, isn't he, Mavis?"

"Absolutely," said Mom, "and you must be hatted and gloved as well, like all the rest of the ladies. Honestly, dear, no one will know you're a boy. And we'll do your eyebrows and your nails and I'll cream your face every night until next Saturday and your skin will look really lovely. Oh come on darling, don't be a Spoil Sport."

Something went twang inside my head and I agreed to the 'jape'.

By the time we had walked home that evening, my feet were quite tired. Without any prompting, I put on Mom's apron and made us both some cocoa and took it to her.

"I hope you are looking forward to it too, darling. I'm sure it is going to be the most delicious stunt pulled at Blinnman's since they went into business."

"Well, I wasn't at first but so many people have seen me already and didn't take the slightest bit of notice, it would seem that I'm going to be able to pass as a girl without any trouble."

"Of course you will. You're much too pretty for a boy and I've always thought your looks were a terrible waste on you. I must confess, it gives me quite a thrill seeing you now in women's things and I also, that's if I read your vibes cor-

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JOYCE'S GIRLS BY JOYCE

rectly, think you are enjoying it much yourself you are, aren't you?"

"Well it does feel rather nice." I stood up and gave a twirl as I said this. That was the understatement of the year, of course. I was no longer trembling but the feel of the clothes was still an exquisite joy!

The best of all was that I now felt I could indulge in any extravagant verbalization of how I felt without a censorious frown or a lot of tut-tutting; it was like a glorious release. Pushing my luck a little further, I said brightly, "Can I also wear one of your nighties tonight?"

"Come here and give me a kiss, you darling angel, of course you can; that salmon satin should look nice on you. And dear, I want to cream your face just like I do mine; I want your skin looking lovely for next Saturday."

I wore the satin nightgown for the rest of the week and the gown that went with it and a pair of Mom's highheeled mules. I did my homework like that every night.

I was pleased that there was no Paterfamilias to ruffle the serenity of these evenings. My father, who was something of a hard drinking rugger-bugger who sold Pyrex Ware for a living, had disappeared eight months previously, following a divorce suit brought by Mom. He had tried to make a 'man' of me but had given up in disgust before I turned eleven. Team games and contact sports are not for everybody, especially rugby, which I still regard with a certain disdain to this day. For not liking team games, I think I was made to feel a bit of a coward but I don't think that's true. In any case, in the five years between 11 and 16, we maintained a sort of armed truce I doubt if we exchanged more than a 1,000 words in all that time. I was relieved when he packed and left for good and he certainly didn't apply for visiting rights. I hope he has better luck with his next son!

The coming caper was in my mind more or less all the time that week. It just so happened that we were reading our first Shakespearean play at school that term, Macbeth. In introducing the Bard to us, our teacher made mention of how boys were used to play all the women's parts.

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