This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone! Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge!
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem!
This is only a story, written to entertain, and it contains adult material, which includes sex, transgender issues and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it!
Unfortunately no politicians were injured or killed in the writing of this story, and no one else was either, for that matter!
If you enjoyed it, then please Email me and tell me! If you hated it, Email me and lie!
I will always welcome contact!
tanya_jaya@yahoo.co.uk
The legal stuff!

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically! Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract! Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author!

The Candy Cane Club.

© 2004 - Tanya J. Allan

Book One.

One

It started to drizzle as the man left the club, around midnight. The flashing neon sign above the door was the only indication that the club existed, down a dark and secluded alley with the single thick door it’s only entrance. The sign, a red and white candy cane, fizzed and spluttered as it came into contact with the rain.

He was quite a tall man, around 40, overweight and sweaty, and he had had one drink too many. His walk was slightly uneven, as he walked out to the main road. The street lights didn’t reach into the alley, so the figure watching him was in complete darkness.

He stood for a moment, as if to get his bearings, and then turned left and walked along the pavement. He smiled to himself, the evening had been a good one, and he had enjoyed the entertainment. The thought of Mandy gave him a partial erection, as he arrived at his block of flats.

He used a key to gain entry to the communal front door, and he ascended the staircase to his flat on the first floor. He was getting his door key sorted when he heard a sound behind him. He turned, and smiled.

“Oh, its you! Are you coming in?” he said.

He hardly felt the knife as it slid between his ribs and pierced his heart! But then, all at once he felt this sharp pain, and the world seemed to stop. With an expression of sadness and surprise, Warren McCarthy died outside his flat. The sound of footsteps echoed as the assailant walked calmly out of the building and into the night.

Detective Inspector Bruce Appleby got the call at 03:00. He was asleep, and his wife was not best pleased. She huffed at him, and rolled away as he answered his mobile.

“DI Appleby.” He grunted into the phone, as he rolled out of bed, and went into the bathroom. He closed the door, and put on the light.

“Sorry to trouble you at home Guv, but there has been another one!” It was Sergeant Mike Carter, one of the night duty uniform supervisors.

“Oh shit, when?”

“It was called in about half an hour ago, but the doc thinks he has been dead since about midnight.”

“Where?”

“In a block of private flats called the Gables, just off the main drag. The victim is a bloke called Warren McCarthy. He was killed just as he was about to open his front door, his key was in his hand.”

“Any witnesses?”

“None that have come forward yet.”

“Okay Mike, I’ll be twenty minutes, leave the body there until I get there!”

“Right Guv! I’ve started door to door enquiries.”

“Good. Bye!”

Bruce got dressed, and left the house as quietly as possible. The kids were still asleep, and it was a school day tomorrow. Carol would get over it, at least he didn’t have to do shift work any more!

He made it in fifteen minutes, as the roads through Reading were completely empty. He parked his Ford Mondeo outside the flats, and made his way over to where all the police cars were. An undertakers van was waiting close by.

A young probationer constable wearing the distinctive ‘Bobby’ helmet was on the door, and Bruce had to show him his warrant card before he would let him in. Mike Carter was at the bottom of the stairs, he was wearing latex gloves, and he handed Bruce a pair.

Bruce stood and put on the gloves, and looked around the lobby.

The lobby floor was a mess of damp footprints, mostly made by the officers. Bruce cursed silently.

“Hi Bruce. Sorry about this!”

“No problem. Where is the body?”

He followed the Sergeant up to the first floor, and saw the deceased lying on his back by his own front door. The police surgeon, Sharon Hillier was packing up her case. She looked tired and fed up.

“No blood?” Bruce observed.

“It seems the murder weapon was a very thin blade, and the hole closed up as it was withdrawn, the body cavity has filled, the heart has been punctured. He rolled onto the wound, so his excess fat helped seal it up!” she told him.

“Mike said that you think he died around midnight?”

“Something like that, you will have to wait for the P.M.”

“Was he on his back like this when he died?”

“Yes, the wound is in his back, who ever did this was either very lucky, or is an expert. The ribcage is not an easy thing to negotiate, so a single well aimed blow like this requires either a good deal of luck, or a lot of practice!” she observed. She picked up her bag, and left them to it.

“Well, this is the third! And it seems that each one was as clean and in similar circumstances!” Bruce said, “has anyone been into his flat yet?”

“Not yet, we were waiting for you.” Mike said.

“Has the photographer been?”

“Yes, and SOCO.”

“Right, get the undertakers to remove the body. Have you searched the body?”

Mike held up a police property bag, with the man’s wallet and various other items, including a mobile phone.

“Where is his key?”

Mike held up a bunch of keys, singling out a single yellow metal key.

“Open it then!” Bruce said, and the Sergeant opened the door.

It was a large flat, as reflected by the nice neighbourhood. It was very clean and tastefully decorated, with nice furniture and modern paintings on the walls.

“Does he live alone?” Bruce asked.

“So it seems. Mind you the neighbours seem rather disinterested, on the whole! No one seems to have seen a partner, but occasionally a woman was seen coming or going, but no one knows who she is!” Mike said.

“Or whether it was always the same one! Right, check the phone messages, and his phone book.” Bruce said, as he looked for the main bedroom.

“Bloody hell!” he said as he saw the enormous waterbed. There was a mirror on the ceiling, and huge highly erotic pictures of naked men and women covered the walls. One wall was a huge fitted wardrobe, with four sliding mirror doors. He opened the first, and observed that Mr McCarthy had more suits than the whole CID office! The second door revealed a complex rack system for shirts, socks and underwear. The third door was more shirts on hangers and some casual trousers, and the fourth door was locked.

Bruce frowned, why only lock one door? What is he trying to hide?

“Mike!” Bruce called.

The Sergeant came.

“Yeah?”

“You got those keys?”

“Yes, why?”

“Open that!” he said, pointing at the locked wardrobe door.

Mike fumbled a bit trying to find the right key, and finally opened the locked door. He slid it back.

“Bloody Hell!” he said.

The wardrobe was filled with women’s clothes, chains, whips and all kinds of sex toys and gadgets. There were long blonde wigs and silicone breast forms, PVC skirts and padded petticoats and corsets. Two racks of ladies shoes, most in a large size, lay on the floor.

“He was a poof!” observed Mike.

“Maybe. Certainly it seems he was into cross dressing, and all kinds of kinky stuff, let’s not jump to any conclusions!” Bruce said.

The men searched the flat, and found few other clues as to the victim’s private life. He had been one of six financial advisers in a local company, and obviously wasn’t badly off. There were few photographs, letters or any other personal items that tied him to anyone else. There were not even any family contacts, except two numbers in his personal phone book, his mother and his sister, both living in Worthing in Sussex.

“Lets have a look at his wallet!” Bruce said, and Mike took it out of the bag, and spread the contents onto the table.

There were eighty pounds in notes, three credit cards, a cheque/cash point card, a store card, his drivers licence, some receipts and one club membership card.

Bruce held it up, and turned it over. There was a picture of a red and white candy cane on the front, and the victim’s name embossed with a number 3209 next to it.

On the rear were a magnetic strip and a signature strip, which the victim had signed. There was no name or any other details, except a small printed section stating,

“The Management reserve the right to refuse entry or to rescind membership without notice. If found this card should be posted to PO Box 12668.”

“Not a lot of information there!” said Mike.

Bruce smiled.

“There is enough! This is the club card for the Candy Club. It is not that far from here, and this could be the break we have been looking for!”

“Why is that?”

“Because it is the only common thread that links all three murders together!”

“I’ve never heard of the Candy Club!” Mike admitted.

“You are hardly likely to, unless you are of a particular bent. It never comes to police notice, it has private membership, and it doesn’t advertise. It is one of the top Transgender clubs in this part of the country.” Bruce explained.

“Oh yes, and just how did you come to hear of it?” Mike asked with a grin.

“The first murder victim, Daniel Fleming, had been picked up by a cab, having just left. The second victim, Simon Harris, had been there three days before, and now Mr McCarthy has the card in his wallet. I am willing to gamble that he had just come from there!”

He looked at his watch.

“The club will still be open. Let’s go pay them a visit, you are about to be educated!” Bruce said.

Mike collected all the bits together, and sealed the bag. Bruce took a photograph of the victim out of a frame from the dressing table, and they left the flat. Mike handed the bag to a constable with the instructions to book them into the property store.

They went in Bruce’s car and parked on the main road just near the alley. They walked up the alley to where the candy cane sign still winked at them.

“I never knew this was here, and I have been here six months!” Mike said.

Bruce knocked on the door, and an eye appeared at the small window. Bruce held up his warrant card, and the eye swivelled to take in the uniform Sergeant standing next to him. The door opened.

A very large black man, about 6’ 6” and all muscle stood, filling the doorway.

“Yes?”

“I am DI Appleby, Thames Valley CID from Reading Police Station. I need to speak to the manager, and some of the staff. Have you been on the door all night?”

“Most of the time, why?”

Bruce held up the photograph.

“Has this man been here tonight?”

The man didn’t look at it.

“I am not allowed to discuss membership, nor who is or is not here!” the man said.

“Right, let me explain something. This man is dead, so this is a murder investigation. If you refuse to answer, then you will be arrested for perverting the course of justice, and probably charged with obstructing police! Now, has this man been in here tonight?” Bruce repeated, his voice cold as ice.

The man swallowed, and simply nodded.

“When did he leave?”

“Around midnight.”

“Anyone else leave at that time?”

He shook his head.

“Was he a frequent visitor?”

He nodded, “Twice, sometimes three times a week.”

“Any favourites?”

“Favourites?”

“You know, staff, hostesses, dancers or artistes?”

“He liked Mandy a lot! But I work the door, so I don’t really know.”

“Was he alone when he left?”

“Yes. He was always alone.”

“Thanks, where is your manager?”

“I’ll call him.” The man said, and picked up a phone and spoke briefly into it.

A few minutes later a man in a dark suit appeared. He was around thirty five, and had a shaven head.

“I’m Sean Cooper, the manager. Can I help you gentlemen?” he said, eyeing Mike’s uniform distastefully.

“Mr Cooper, I am a Detective Inspector from the local police station. I am investigating a murder, and the victim was in this club shortly before he died. This makes the third man killed who had a link with this club, I think we need to talk!”

The man nodded and led them to a small office. Mike noticed that the club was huge, on three floors, with many small rooms. There were two bars, with a dance floor in one, and a small stage in the other. All the staff and artistes were in very sexy clothing, some were topless, and they had glitter on their naked breasts.

Mike was slightly confused when Sean shut the door of his office.

“I was under the impression that all your staff were male?” he asked.

“They are. Although they would take offence if you described them as such! Apart from the kitchens, which are completely separate, we have no genetic females working here. All the staff and hostesses are in drag, they are all transvestites or transgendered in some way. The only exception is a transsexual who has had her operation. We allow them to stay on staff, but not as hostesses!”

“Oh.” Mike shut up.

Bruce passed the photograph over.

“This man, his name was Warren McCarthy. He was here earlier, and left around midnight. He was found dead just outside his flat, having died shortly after leaving here. He was murdered, and this is the third death linked to clientele of this club. Now, I need some answers, otherwise the press are going to be round here so fast, your members are going to be conspicuous by their absence!”

“What do you want to know?”

“The doorman said that McCarthy was here two or three times a week, is that right?”

“Yes, he is, sorry, was one of our most frequent members.”

“How long has he been a member?”

Sean turned to his PC, and using the mouse, produced a database.

“He joined this club three years ago, on the 4^th July 1998.”

“Does it have how often he was here?”

“No, only his membership details.”

“May I have a print out of that?”

“Under the Data Protection Act, all our information is confidential, I’m not sure I can let you have it.”

“Mr Cooper, this is a murder investigation. If necessary I can have a warrant to seize all computers on the premises, if I have grounds to suspect information pertaining to my case may be in one of them. It may be I will have to have access to all your records at some point, but all I want, at the moment, is a copy of one man’s file!”

Seconds later the single sheet of paper rolled out of the printer. Sean handed it over to Bruce.

“Thank you , the last thing I want is to ruin your business, I need to find this killer before he or she ruins it for me!”

“I understand. But you must appreciate that this club exists due to its high degree of confidentiality.”

“I accept that, but during this investigation, we may have to tread on a few toes. We will try to avoid it, but these things happen.” Bruce said.

“I accept that, thanks for the warning.”

“Now, who is Mandy?” Bruce asked.

“She is one of the hostesses, why?”

I have reason to believe that she was a particular favourite of the deceased. Would that be accurate?”

Sean nodded. “Yes, he was rather partial to her. In fact she performed for him this evening!”

“Performed?”

“This is a TG club. The girls are lap dancers and entertainers. Members can pay them for private sessions in private rooms, and Mandy performed for Warren at about eleven.”

“Just how far do the ‘girls’ go with this entertainment?”

“This is a respectable club. We have a no touching rule, the members are not allowed to touch the girls, and there is CCTV in every room for the girls safety.”

“How long do you keep the CCTV tapes?” Bruce asked.

“They are rerun over within a week, unless there are complaints or an incident. We haven’t had either for about six weeks!”

“I’d like all tapes from this evening seized!” Bruce said to Mike, who nodded and made a note.

“Do any of the girls take things further with the members off the premises?” Mike asked.

“If they do, that is their business. We do not encourage it, and we certainly do not allow anything like that on the premises. They earn very good money inside the club, they don’t have to turn tricks like prostitutes!”

“How many of the girls are transsexuals undergoing transition?” Bruce asked.

“Over half. Once they have had SRS we terminate their contracts, as we do not allow any females to dance here, whether they are real or constructed!” Sean said with a smile. “As I said, the only exception is with the bar staff and waitresses. Some of them have been with us for a long time, and many have been through their sex change surgery.”

“It is an expensive business, I understand!” Bruce observed.

“Oh it certainly is, the hormones and the surgery alone comes to about £20,000. Then there is the other surgery, the implants and all the rest. But, by working here, the girls can earn up to £500 on a good night. We don’t employ them, they pay us to work here, and then they keep all their proceeds.”

“How much do they pay?”

“We charge them £50 a session. And they have to pay for any drinks as well.”

“So the punter pays to get in, then the girls pay to get in, and they both pay for the food and drink, and anything the girls get, they keep?” Bruce repeated.

“That’s it. They are all self employed, and have to audition to be allowed to come here. This is the highest class of club of this kind within the TS/TG/TV community!” Sean said.

“What about the bar staff and waitresses?”

“We employ them, and some go on to be dancers. The members come here to be around beautiful girls, who happen to be, or have been, boys! But they are paid staff while they work in the bars.”

“May we speak to Mandy?” Bruce asked, making some notes in his notebook.

Sean picked up the phone, and spoke to someone. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Sean got up and opened it. A very tall dark skinned girl walked in. She was exceptionally attractive, and had remarkable red hair flowing half way down her back. She had large breasts, that were very evident and very real, and straining to be released from a very tight short red dress. But as one looked closely, her hands and feet were perhaps too large, and her shoulders were rather too broad.

“Sean, you wanted to see me?” she breathed, her voice very husky and sexy.

“Mandy, these gentlemen are police officers, and they have come about Warren. They want to ask you some questions.” Sean explained.

She touched her chest with both hands in a very feminine gesture.

“Oh my God! Has something happened to him? He was only here earlier! I danced for him.” she said.

“Mandy. I am Detective Inspector Appleby. I am afraid that Warren is dead. He was killed just outside his flat just after leaving here.” Bruce said.

Mandy sat down, holding her head with one hand.

“Oh my God! How? Why?” she said.

“That is what we are trying to find out. You danced for him earlier. What time was that?”

“He had the ten o’clock session, I used the green room. He always liked the green room.”

“How well did you know him?”

“You mean, did we have sex?”

“Did you?”

“No. He was into bondage, he told me that. I’m not into that! He liked to dress up, and have the girls screw him. I’m not into that either!” she said with a smile.

“Oh?”

“I am a transsexual, I am waiting surgery. I have had so many female hormones, that I don’t function as a male any more!” she said.

“Ah!”

“I went home with him once. To his flat, just down the road. He wanted to dress up for me, and then he wanted to go out in public. It gave him a sexual kick! The problem is, he doesn’t pass, and it would have been very embarrassing, and he drinks too much!”

“Was he drunk tonight?”

“Not far off it! He was a very lonely man, frustrated at not being much of a man, and wanting to be a woman occasionally. He hadn’t the bottle to go for a sex change though!” she said.

“How do you know?”

“He used to tell me things. He was very screwed up, he didn’t really know what he wanted!”

“Have any of the others been to his flat?”

“Most of them at one time or another! But he was into some weird stuff! That sounds strange coming from someone like me, but believe it or not, all I want to be is a normal girl, and live a normal life!” she said.

“What sort of strange things?”

“Well, he would have parties, and often there would be ten people there. He would have lots of drink, and it used to get pretty wild! Some girls would not be able to work for a couple of days!”

“Why not?”

“Too sore! I am told they were fucked with all kinds of amazing things!”

“You mean anally?”

“Darling, much as I would love to have the other, it’s all most of us have got!”

“Do you know who went to these parties?”

“Not personally. Some of the girls used to, and they said that they saw people there who were members of the club.”

“Did they get paid for this?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Have you been here all night?”

“Yes, I have had a client every hour on the hour since eight pm.”

“Including midnight?”

She smiled, “Including midnight!” she said.

Bruce looked at Sean, who nodded.

“I need to know where I can contact you again, can you give the Sergeant your real name and address. We will be very discrete, and make an appointment with you via mobile if necessary.” Bruce said, and she nodded and turned to Mike and told him what he wanted to know.

“I need to talk to the barman.” Bruce said to Sean.

“I’ll get him to come up.”

Twenty minutes later the two officers left the club.

“Phew! That was certainly different!” Mike exclaimed, he was holding a property bag containing half a dozen VHS tapes.

Bruce laughed.

“We won’t get much out of them, they will clamp up tighter than a swan’s arse in winter!” Bruce said.

“So what do you reckon?”

“The answer is somewhere in the club. Either a staff member, one of the girls, or ex-staff or ex-dancer, or a disgruntled member or a relative. But the club is the only connection!”

“So how the hell do we get in there?”

“If it was an ordinary club, we could get someone to work behind the bar, or even a WPC to be a dancer. But there, no copper would be willing to go undercover in there!” Bruce said.

“How about a WPC pretending to be a transsexual?”

“Possible, but remember, they don’t employ females, the only exceptions are those who started out as males, and while working here, had the change and are now females!”

“You never know, it could be right someone’s street!” Mike said with a smile.

“Yeah, right! Look, I am knackered, I will take you back to the nick, and then I am going home for a couple of hours. Thanks for what you did.”

“No problem. I’m just glad that this is not my problem any more!”

Six hours later, a very bleary eyed DI Appleby was in with the Detective Chief Inspector and Detective Superintendent.

“So, what are we going to do about this club, close it?” the Superintendent asked.

“No, if it is closed, we will lose all leads! I’d like to put someone inside, and see what intelligence is available.” replied the DCI.

“Hmm, that is not as easy as it sounds, right Bruce?” the Superintendent asked.

“Right boss. This is a club that only hires transvestites and transgendered staff. All the bar staff, and hostesses are all males, but look female. Many of them are half way between male to female, and even have had breast implants. We would be hard pushed to put in anyone under cover in these circumstances. With the exception of the manager and the doormen, all the others are in drag!” he told them

“How about as doorman, then?”

“Possible, but the doormen don’t see or hear half of what goes on! Ideally, I should like to put two in. One as door staff, with the knowledge and agreement of the management, and another as bar staff, without letting the management know. The manager co-operated, but he is under immense pressure to keep his members confidentiality and is likely to clam up tight if pushed!”

“How the hell do we persuade a PC to go into such a job?” the DCI asked.

“With great difficulty. Also, there would be a problem if he is a TVP officer, his life could be made a living hell if it got out, and the chances of that is very high!” Bruce said. The other men agreed.

“Right, then I will approach the Metropolitan Police, and ask if they could lend us someone on attachment. If they can’t find someone from their 28,000 officers, what chance have we?” the superintendent said.

“Sir. I also believe that we need to keep a very tight lid on this. It wouldn’t do to let anyone else know that the guy is in there. Particularly the officer we put in as doorman. I will get a small team to run with this, and they will keep things tight!” Bruce said.

“I agree. Then, I will see if we can get someone from the Met, and then Bruce, you see to it that the poor bugger gets trained properly!”

“Trained properly?”

“Yes, you can hardly expect him to go straight in having just parked his panda in the yard! He will need coaching in dressing, walking and all the rest of it. That’s your job. I’ll get you your bloke, you train him!”

Two

The shoplifter did not want to be arrested, and he had already assaulted the store detective. PC Nick Winton went as backup for PC Edgeson, who had taken the call initially. When Nick got there, he saw a large Irishman struggling with Mark Edgeson. Mark was obviously trying to get him to his car, and the man simply didn’t want to go!

Nick calmly went in with a knee strike, which made the man fall over. Nick then placed him in a straight arm lock and placed him in handcuffs. Mark, who was well over six feet, looked sheepishly at the smaller officer.

“Thanks mate!” he said.

“You are just too damn soft, Mark! You’ve got to go in hard, and not let them take the piss!” Nick said, as he dragged the pissed Irishman to his feet.

“Fuck off ye little bastard!” said the prisoner.

“Oh ye of little brain!” said Nick. “You, my old fruit, are busted! You do not pass go, you do not collect £200 social security, and now you are going straight to the nick for theft and assault!”

He put the man in the back of Mark’s patrol car.

“Can you cope on your own, or do you want me to stay as escort?” he said to his colleague, grinning.

“I can manage, you Yankee dwarf you!” Mark replied, also grinning.

“Well obviously height doesn’t get the brains, you damn well know I am Canadian, and not American, so thank fuck I’m only 5’8”! As you obviously suffer from oxygen starvation up there, and your brain has ceased to function properly!” replied Nick, returning to his car.

He left Mark to it, and returned to his patrol area. He was always touchy about his height. The Police had only recently abolished height restrictions for applicants, otherwise he may not have been successful. He was in fact only 5’ 7”, and although he was slightly built, he was wiry and very fit.

He had only recently returned to the UK, after living in Canada since he was about four. His father had been an English university lecturer in History, and his mother was a French Canadian from Montreal, who had been a teacher. They had lived for many years in Montreal, and latterly at Guelph in Ontario, where his father had headed the History department. After they died in a car accident, Nick came to the UK having just left school. He had stayed with his cousins in Bath, but found them really dull, so he had bummed round Europe for a year. He had absolutely no idea what he wanted to do with his life! He had a personal problem, which he hoped he would grow out of!

Returning in 1998, he joined the Metropolitan Police on a whim. He thoroughly enjoyed the job, and now, with nearly three years under his belt, was eager to join the CID and deal with the more exciting and challenging crimes.

He was a popular man, who got on well with nearly everyone, but he found it hard to make really close friends. There was a huge culture gulf between the British and Canadians, and he tended to socialise little, and when he did it was mainly outside the police. He had just split from his girlfriend of eighteen months, over various things, partly he was unwilling to get too serious, and partly because she wanted him to leave the police, and he wasn’t prepared to do that. He did hold his one secret, and he refused to let it interfere with his life. His rationale being, you were dealt a hand of cards at birth for a reason, and you may as well play it as best you can!

He had applied for every CID job going, and any opportunity to work in plain clothes. The answer was always the same, “Get some more experience, and try again!”

It was a catch-22 situation. He wanted the job for the experience, and where he was, on shift in Kentish Town, he was dealing with crap day in day out!

At the end of the tour of duty, he returned to the station, and booked his car back in. As he was filing a couple of reports, his sergeant, Dick Wells, came over to him.

“Ah Nicholas! You know you applied for the CID?”

“Sarge, it is Nick, not Nicholas! My mom was French Canadian, but I am not. Okay? What about the application, I failed!” he said.

“Well, you and several others have been invited to attend New Scotland Yard for a second board. It seems there may be a special vacancy, and they may pick you yet!” Dick told him.

“Great! When?”

“Tomorrow, Friday at 14:00.”

“Shit! That soon, how the fuck can I prepare for that?” Nick asked.

“That is not my problem, if it is any consolation, you all get the same warning!” his sergeant said.

“Thanks Sarge!”

Nick went back to the section house a happy man. He still had a chance of joining the CID!

He arrived at New Scotland Yard at 13:30, and asked at the reception desk where the boards were being held.

He was directed to the lift, and made his way to the 10^th floor. He went into the appropriate room, and found at least twenty other hopefuls all waiting. By the time 14:00 came, there were fifty. Nick felt less optimistic, as there were some more experienced officers here.

A uniform Superintendent and another man in a suit came into the room.

“Gentlemen. Thanks for coming today. You are all here because you have at some time or other applied for specialist posts relating to the CID, plain clothes work or surveillance and undercover work. This board is for just one post, and it requires special qualities. I have to tell you that if you are in a long term relationship, or married, this job is not for you! For those with heavy personal commitments, or substantial court warnings, this job is not for you.

“If you are over weight, or over six feet, then this job is not for you. It is anticipated that you may be working undercover for a period up to six months, in an extremely stressful environment. So have a think, and we will see who is left!” The superintendent said.

There was some muttering and shuffling, and many of the hopefuls left, leaving just six.

The Superintendent nodded, and looked at the remaining men.

The man in the suit looked at each of them in turn, and spoke quietly to the Superintendent. He spoke to three of the men, and they nodded and left, which left three, and Nick was still there!

“You will each be interviewed. I have to warn you, personal questions are going to be asked, and some of these will be embarrassing. So be prepared.”

They sat, and as Nick’s surname started with a W, he was last. No change there! He sat and read a paper, and after half an hour the first man came out, looked at the other two and grinned.

“Shit, it is all yours!” he said, and left whistling.

The next man went in, and came out after just ten minutes.

“They are having a fucking laugh! All the best mate!” he said, and he left.

Nick was worried now, this was not going to plan at all!

He went and knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

He went in. There were three men in suits, he had seen one of them before. They were seated in arm chairs, and there was a fourth slightly apart. There was no desk between them and him

“Sit down, please.”

Nick sat in the fourth chair.

“PC Winton, is it?” said the man in the middle.

“Yes sir. Nick Winton.”

“I am Detective Superintendent Richardson, Thames Valley Police. This is Inspector Haddow, who is Metropolitan Police Federation, and this is DI Appleby, who is also TVP. I will let Inspector Haddow explain the circumstances, before we start.”

“PC Winton, the Thames Valley Police are investigating a series of murders in the Reading area. The MO is the same, and they are linked through one factor, a certain club in Reading. The problem is that this club is run for and by transgendered males. All the members of staff are male, but have the appearance of being female. Due to the circumstances, and the highly delicate nature of the club, the TVP have approached the Met to try to obtain the services of a male officer willing to work deep undercover in the club as a member of staff. They are unable to recruit a TVP officer for this task, and this is why they are here.

“There is no compunction for anyone to undertake the task, and no lawful order will be made to force anyone to do it. Do you understand?” the inspector asked.

“Yes sir. I understand.” Nick’s pulse was racing, fortune had a funny way of reshuffling the cards at times!

“Do you want to proceed with the interview?”

“I might as well, I can still turn it down, right?”

“Right!”

“Sure, go ahead!”

“You have an American accent, or is it Canadian?” the DI asked.

“Canadian sir. My Dad was English, and Mom was Canadian. I lived most of my life over there.”

“I understand you parents both died some years ago.” Bruce asked.

“Yes sir, in 1996.”

“Do you have a girlfriend at the moment?”

“No sir, I split with my last girl a couple of weeks back.”

“How do you feel about wearing women’s clothes?”

“It is not something I have any knowledge of, I have never done it!” Nick replied, hoping his lie was not apparent.

“Have you ever had a homosexual experience?”

“Not since I was a kid, about ten or so, just experimenting. Certainly not as an adult!”

“Now, you are living in a Section House at the moment. What commitments have you at the moment?”

“None, I ride a motorcycle. That is bought and paid for. I guess I am pretty free of commitments.”

“How would you feel about working in an overtly transsexual environment?”

“I have no idea, it is not something I have any experience with. I guess I can get along with most people. I don’t see I would have a problem. But I may have difficulty persuading them that I was one of them!” Again, he was very glad his pulse rate was not being monitored.

“I accept that. We can take care of that side of things.” The Superintendent said.

The questions continued, many personal, and many professional, the ‘what if’ scenarios. and Nick looked at the clock. He had been in here for over an hour!

“Thank you PC Winton. We appreciate the time you have given us, and also the honesty and candour with which you have answered our questions. If you would be willing to take on the job, it is yours. But once you accept, you must move out of the section house, and we will provide you with accommodation until the operation is concluded. All contact with your friends and colleagues will cease, and you must accept that you, as from now, under cover! There is much work to be dome in preparation, and very little time to do it!”

Nick looked at each of them. The Federation Inspector couldn’t meet his eyes, yet DI Appleby gave him a small reassuring smile.

“I’ll do it, as long as I can back out if it gets too much!”

“Agreed! Welcome aboard Nick. You are a very brave man!” The Superintendent said.

Nick smiled, but inside he felt a tight knot of excitement! He had felt from a young age an irresistible interest to explore his feminine nature. He vaguely suspected he was partially transsexual, but managed to successfully hide his feelings deep in his sub-conscious.

Nick was given the week end to clear any stuff he wanted from his section house room or the police station. They were allowing him to keep the room, in case he washed out and returned soon, but any personal possessions he needed were to be taken with him. He did not have much, and he put everything into his large rucksack one suitcase. There was nothing at the police station he wanted. A car and driver collected his possessions on the Sunday evening and he put his leathers on, and started his Kawasaki VN800 Classic. He was given an address just outside Newbury, and he took off, heading due west, down the M4 motorway.

He arrived at the house before the car. It was a large detached house, in a small Berkshire village, secluded from the road. It was a nice house, and he parked the bike and took his helmet off. DI Appleby was at the front door.

“Well done, you made it then!” he said.

“You guys know how to treat your PCs well!” Nick said, admiring the house.

“This is one of the job houses we use for Assistant Chief Constables. But all ours have their own houses, so we use it for specialist operations, training etcetera. So, it is the base for operation ‘Sugarplum’, as we are calling this operation.”

He took the young man inside, and took him upstairs to the main bedroom. It was a huge room with a king size double bed in it, plus en suite bathroom.

“This is yours until you are ready to go in. Hopefully, you will be here for no more than a couple of weeks at the most!

“While you are here, you must not go out as you are now. There will be a team with you, and food will be brought in. there is an excellent kitchen, and one of the team will do the shopping if necessary. You will be worked very hard over the next few days, and it will be very tough. I don’t envy you one little bit!”

“I am hardly looking forward to it. But it will certainly be a challenge!”

“It certainly will. Incidentally. You are now on special attachment rates. Which means you are on a standard daily pay, for all 24 hours, regardless of how much you work. All leaves are cancelled, and you get the overtime for them, and that is regardless if you actually do get a day off as part of your cover. Any expenses you incur then keep the receipts and submit them through me at regular intervals, or at the conclusion of the case. You will find that if nothing else, you will be financially better off when it is over!”

The car arrived and Nick took his belongings to his room and unpacked. He then went downstairs and into the lounge. There were two other people there, a man and a woman, both were a little older than he. They introduced themselves as Detective Constables Jenny Carter and Pete Small. They were part of his back-up team, and he was to rely on them for any support or help. They ordered take away pizzas, and sat and watched TV for a while, enjoying a few beers. Bruce had stipulated that Nick’s identity and part in the operation was completely secret, and must never be mentioned to anyone, on pain of death! They agreed, and understood the situation completely. When Jenny and Pete left and he was alone.

Nick went to bed, but sleep was a long time coming, just what the hell had he let himself in for?

He woke on the Monday morning at about seven, and for a moment forgot where he was. Almost lost in the enormous bed, he recalled the previous day, and went and had a shower. He slung on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, and went looking for breakfast.

He went and searched the kitchen and found some cereal, milk, and the necessary crockery and cutlery. He found some bread, and put some in the toaster. He made himself some coffee, and sat in front of the TV with his breakfast. Jenny and Pete arrived at about half past eight, closely followed by the DI and two other people, a both women.

Bruce had Nick, Jenny and Pete together first.

“Okay, you are the A team on this one. As you know we are putting Nick in under cover in a few days time. Now what we have to do is get a system of communication going that will leave no room for errors. They are here because you need to know who you are going to have watching your back, okay Nick?”

Nick nodded.

“Right, you won’t see them for a while, we will get you together just before you go in, and then hopefully you will not see them again for ages, but they will see you! They are off now to set up their O.P., and guess what, your new flat just happens to be right next to theirs! So we can watch your back at work, and at play. But don’t worry, you call the shots, so if you want privacy, you get it!”

The others smiled at Nick, wished him good luck and left. The two women came in, and both looked rather nervous and unsure.

“Come in ladies, this is Nick. He is your subject, and you have about ten days to work a miracle! Nick, this is Doctor Gillian Hepburn, and Rachel Holloway. They are both on loan to the Police from a Transgender advice centre and clinic. The doctor is a specialist in SRS and hormone treatment, and Rachel is a counsellor and coach for male to female transsexuals who are undergoing transition from male to female, prior to the actual surgery, and then after surgery as well, if required.

“What we propose is this, you must start today and live as a female! The doctor is going to give you an injection of androgen, a testosterone blocker, and then an implant that releases small amounts of female hormones, like oestrogen, which will give you a more feminine appearance. It will affect beard and body hair, and it will be in small enough doses to be harmless, and once you have the implant removed, then you will revert back to normal. There is no likelihood of any complications, neither will it affect your reproductive chances later!

“Once the doctor has given you a complete examination, she will insert the implant in your thigh. Then she will leave. Rachel, here, will be your constant companion over the next week to ten days. She will be very critical of everything you do, and say. She will give you an idea as to the psychological aspects of transsexuals, and the way their minds work. If you are to fit in, then you need to know how to think, breathe and behave as one of them! Okay so far?” Bruce said.

Nick nodded, uncertainly.

“Why do I have to live as a female, I thought it was only for work?” he asked, privately relishing the idea.

“Most of the ‘girls’, live full time as girls, and are at some point along the road to full SRS. Some are transvestites who get a thrill out of dressing and looking like girls, and others are gay who just enjoy the drag aspect for a brief period. The latter group are the ones who only dress at work, so we thought that it was far less complicated to keep you in one mind set, and away from the overtly gay group. But if you have a problem with this, we can change and work something out!”

“No, I understand. I would rather not be associated with the gays, thanks.”

“Good, then the first thing is to sign this indemnity and consent form, which absolves the good doctor and Rachel of all responsibility should something go wrong. It also lets the Thames Valley Police off the hook, in that you agree that everything is explained and you still agree to go ahead!”

Nick had many questions relating to the procedures and medical rational for the selected course of action. In order for him to be believable, there had to be a real physical change, even if only temporary. It was essential that he was not the least bit likely to be suspected of being a police plant, and this course seemed the most appropriate. No one would believe that a police officer would go to such lengths just for a short undercover operation.

Nick read the form, and signed.

“Doctor, he is all yours!” Bruce said, and left him alone with the women. Rachel went out to her car and started bringing in suitcases. The doctor smiled at Nick, and told him to get undressed.

She was around 40, and had short dark hair. She was very pleasant, and sympathetic. She was very knowledgeable about her specialised field, and he plied her with questions relating to the Transsexuals’ mental attitudes, and self-perceptions. He was going to be playing a role of a transsexual, and he needed to know how to think and live as one.

“You have got to be convincing as a woman who really believes you are trapped in a male body. Most transsexuals have had this feeling since they were very young, and every day have to cope with being the wrong physical gender!” she told him. What she didn’t know was that this young man had been plagued by such feelings for a very long time!

The next hour was rather unpleasant, he was poked and prodded, and the doctor was very thorough, taking several syringe loads of blood from him. Finally, she applied some anaesthetic paste to his thigh, and made a small incision. She placed a small implant into the wound, and placed a couple of butterfly stitches over it, and placed a dressing over the wound. She then gave him an injection in the bum.

“Right, as the Inspector said, you should feel no real ill effects, but you may find increased sensitivity in the area of the breasts, and your moods may swing a little more than you were used to. If you feel really awful, then tell someone to call me, and we will remove the implant. It will cease to function after six months in any case. Do you understand?”

Nick nodded.

“Doctor, are you sure the hormones will not cause any permanent damage?”

“Yes, as long as you stop within the six months. Should you continue to take this level of oestrogen, then you may become sterile, and even lose the use of your penis for sex!”

“Shit, lets hope we solve this in a few weeks!” he said.

“This is very serious, but then so is catching the murderer! You are very brave to go through with this!”

“Or stupid!” said Nick.

The doctor smiled, said goodbye, and left. Rachel returned.

Rachel was around 38, a large plump jovial lady, who hardly drew breath.

“Right, the first thing is lets go to your bedroom, and we will start from there!”

Nick followed her upstairs, and he found his room full of cases and boxes.

“Okay, Nick is it?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Right, what are you wanting to be called?”

“Huh?”

“If you are going to live as a girl, you need a feminine name! So what is it to be?”

“I dunno!”

“How about Nicola, or Nicole, or Nikki, perhaps?” she suggested.

“Nicole sounds okay, it has a French sound to it, and my mom was French Canadian!”

“Right, Nicole, that is the only name I will call you from now on! I have seen naked men, naked women and all the stages in between. I was happily married for years, have four children, and was a nurse for twelve years. So please don’t feel embarrassed in front of me, but just do what I ask, and we will get along fine. Normally I have months to do what I am trying to do with you, and I have only days! So it is important that we start in tune with each other! Right?”

“Sure!”

Rachel produced a large tub of paste.

“Right, Nicole, strip off!”

Nick stripped, and she demanded even his jockey shorts came off too. She smeared the paste all over his body, while, at the same time she critically examined his general physique and appearance.

“You have many things going for you. You are not too tall, you are not too broad, and you have a young and fine featured face. You don’t have an obvious Adam’s apple, and that really is a bonus, because so often that has to be altered by surgery! You are nice and slim, and not too muscular, and the best thing is that you are fair, and haven’t a strong beard. This paste is a hair remover, and is much better than shaving. Leave it on for a few minutes, and then go and have a nice hot bath. What size feet have you?”

“Seven, why?”

“Usually men have huge hands and feet. You are lucky, we will be able to get you some lovely stuff, and I am hopeful that this will work. When the Inspector approached me, I imagined having to work with some six foot goliath, you really are quite small for a policeman, aren’t you?” Rachel asked. Nick came to realise that Rachel spent an enormous amount of time talking!

Nick went for a bath, and when he got out, he saw a vast amount of hair lying in the empty bath. His body felt different, and his arms and legs were incredibly smooth.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, and went back into the bedroom.

“The trick about believing you are a girl, is to look and feel like one. The rest seems to follow. So we are going to make you look like one, and hopefully you will feel like one as well!”

She rooted about and handed Nick some underwear.

“These knickers are specially designed for the task. They are very tight, and so you can tuck your male bits away between your legs. Your testicles you just slide up into the cavity, underneath, and this holds everything in place. Now, you have quite slim hips and bum, so the padding gives you a more rounded feminine bum and hips. Believe it or not, the idea was originally designed for Japanese women, who wanted western style bottoms!”

Nick managed to put them on, and rearrange himself so as to be reasonably comfortable. Rachel then sat him down, and pasted some clear liquid onto his chest. She then made him lie on his bed, and she stuck two very realistic breast forms to him, taking great trouble to get them exactly right. She had found a pair that matched his skin perfectly. She then covered the top edges with light foundation, the same colour as his skin.

“Just lie there for a few minutes. The resin is very strong, so you will not need to take them off for ages. If you do need to take them off, then this solution does the trick in seconds.”

“How long is, ages?”

“You should take them off once a week, and have a good wash, you can take them off every night, but the resin and solution is not cheap. And the more you take them on and off, the tatty they get. So I suggest once a week, you can leave them on longer if you have to!”

“So how did you get into this?” Nick asked.

She laughed.

“My darling husband. After fifteen years of marriage, he tells me, out of the blue, that he wants a sex change! So it was either, leave, and try and start again, or help him through. I chose the latter, and we are still best friends. I got involved with a support group, and it is now a full time job.”

“What happened to your husband?”

“We got divorced after she had her operation. She is now called Nancy, and lives in Edinburgh with her male partner. She is blissfully happy, and we often see each other. The kids are funny about it, and they are not as accepting as me, but, they have been robbed of their dad!”

“You could say the same!”

“True, but I have found another man, and we are getting married next year.”

“Oh, good for you!”

“Okay, Nicole, up you get! Lets get you looking pretty!”

Nick got up, and was amazed at the feel of the breasts now firmly part of him. He found it mildly erotic, and could help grinning in a self conscious way.

“Now, Nicole, get used to them, they have to be part of you. Real girls grow them slowly, and have time to get used to them. Treat them like old friends, just as if they have always been there!” she said, handing him a white cotton bra. She showed him how to put in on and adjust it so as to fit comfortably.

She gave him a pink top, that fitted tightly, and a dark red shortish skirt. As it was summer, she decided that tights or stockings were not practicable for the time being.

“I am going to do your make up today, but from tomorrow on, you are going to have to do it! Even if it takes you three hours, you will keep doing it to get it right!”

So started a very long morning for Nick. Rachel painted his toenails, in the same dark red as his skirt. Then she stuck false nails onto his fingernails, and painted them in the same colour. She spent a good hour on his face, firstly she plucked about four hundred hairs from his chin and cheeks. Or that was what it felt like! Then she applied a light foundation, and it covered up any blemishes.

“You have a very light facial hair growth. The hormones will mean you probably wont need to shave in a couple of weeks, but until then, just keep an eye on it!”

She explained what she was doing, and why, for every step. She showed him all the tricks and techniques he needed to know, and after she had done his right eye, she let him try the left. At last, having repaired any damage he had inflicted, she announced that she had finished that bit.

Nick stared at the apparition in the mirror. He knew that it was him, but he hardly recognise himself! Rachel slicked back his short hair, and then put a luxurious long blonde wig onto his head. She fussed about for several minutes, and eventually announced that. ‘it’ll have to do!’

Somewhere amongst the many cases and boxes she found a pair of red shoes, with 3” heels, and open toes.

“Here, my dear, try these on! I didn’t know what size you were, so I brought several!”

Nick slipped the shoes on, and stood up, feeling very precarious indeed.

Rachel stepped back, and sucked her breath in through her teeth.

“Right, so far so good! Nikki, you really look the part! But we are going to have to teach you how to walk, stand, sit down, and how to move about like a girl!

“Just watch yourself in the full length mirror, stop rolling your shoulders, and place one foot in front of the other, toes out slightly, swing your hips as you go! Beautiful! That’s is it, don’t rush, just take your time. My God, you really have got it! It is remarkable!”

Nick was staring at the girl in the mirror. He was speechless, as he caught his lower lip in his teeth and then licked his lips, and the girl smiled back at him, very seductively. The girl was really beautiful, and he felt muted stirrings from deep within his constricting underwear.

So started another gruelling session. She had him standing, sitting, walking, going up and down stairs, shaking hands and doing all kinds of everyday tasks. He found it very hard to concentrate on actions that had been second nature. She showed him how to swing his arms when walking, how to bend the arms outwards from the elbows, and how to be much more wristy with hand gestures.

She had him practice flicking hair back, and touching the face as a woman would do it. By lunchtime, he was knackered, and she called a break. He collapsed on the sofa in relief.

“Nicole! That is not how you must sit!” she said.

“But we are having a break!”

“Even so, everything you do, must be as a girl, don’t let slip for a second! You must believe that you are Nicole, so start now! Say goodbye to Nick, and live as Nicole, for every second of every day! Every part of you must be female from now on, I will never refer to you as a male, and you must do the same! It is the only way, believe me!” she said.

“Okay, but I am working as hard as I can! I never realised just how different it is!”

“Shall we go?” Rachel asked.

“Go? Go where?” Nicole asked, surprised.

“Out for lunch! I don’t intend staying here, there is a nice shopping area in Newbury, and we have to get you some clothes and your own makeup!”

“What! Like this?” Nicole asked, horrified.

“Of course! Why not?”

“But, I’m not allowed to leave the house!” Nicole said, gratefully recalling the DI’s instructions.

“That’s not what he told me! He said for me to use my judgement, and you were only to go out if you could pass as a female! Believe me, you can pass, even your voice, which could do with a little work, will be fine!” she said to the miserable officer.

Rachel handed Nicole a shoulder bag, also in red, but suede. She gave her some make up, some tissues, a purse, which Nicole placed some money in, and a hairbrush.

They locked up, and got into Rachel’s Vauxhall Astra. Rachel showed Nicole how to get in and out of a car whilst wearing a short skirt. Nicole realised that the lessons were never going to stop.

As they drove the eleven miles to Newbury, Rachel coached Nicole how to pitch her voice.

“You have a really good voice, the Canadian accent is perfect. What you have to do is come down to go up. Bring the tone down to a sexy husky level, and pitch it higher, so as to be more feminine, without sounding like a man speaking in a high voice! Your natural voice is just about at the deepest range for a girl, so you don’t have to do much, just make is huskier, and breathy somehow!” Rachel said, and then had Nicole practice saying, “Hi, I’m Nicole. I’m pleased to meet you!” over and over again.

Rachel parked the car and they walked into the shopping area. It was a little after one pm, and a busy May weekday. The sun was shining, and lots of workers were out having their lunch breaks. Nicole kept seeing her reflection in shop windows, and felt increasingly uneasy and vulnerable. She kept seeing this tall, very attractive girl, in a short skirt, and she found she had conflicting emotions. On the one hand she knew what she was underneath, and on the other she found herself becoming excited at seeing how she looked. She had gone from being a below average height as a rather nondescript male, to a tall and rather strikingly attractive female.

Nicole was convinced that everyone could see straight through her disguise, and could see her for what she really was. Rachel kept having to reassure her.

“Do you like Chinese food?”

“Yeah, love it! Why?”

Rachel smiled, and took the officer’s arm, and led her into a nearby restaurant.

They were greeted and seated at a small table for two. They were given a menu, and the waiter asked if they would like a drink.

Nicole was about to ask for a pint of lager, when she saw Rachel’s raised eyebrow.

“A glass of white wine, please.” she said, in her sexiest voice.

Rachel almost laughed out loud, as the waiter grinned at Nicole.

“Make that two!” Rachel said, and the waiter left.

“Okay, girl. Not quite so sexy. Otherwise I will have to start beating the men away with a big stick!” Rachel said with a smile.

Nicole smiled back.

“I think I am beginning to get the hang of this!” she said.

“Careful, don’t get cocky! Take your time!”

The waiter returned with their drinks, and took their order from the lunch menu.

Nicole took a sip of her wine, and realised that she needed to go to the loo.

Rachel reminded her to use the ladies, and Nicole went off to find it.

Three suited businessmen were at a table further back, and they stopped talking as the long legged blonde, dressed in a short skirt, walked past their table. Nicole heard one of them say, “Phew! I would!” and she grinned to herself. Oh no you wouldn’t, not if you knew what I know! She thought privately.

She went into the ladies, and sat on the loo, having permitted her crushed nuts a moment of freedom. As she sat there, she tried to analyse her feelings about what was happening. In a perverse way, she actually was enjoying the whole experience, it was such a challenge, and she knew that it was not forever. The funny thing was, even at this stage, that was the disappointing part, she rather wished it would be forever! She found she liked the feel of the clothes, and she liked looking as she now did. She got an enormous kick out of fooling people, and loved being admired by men.

She found it easier now she thought herself as a female. Rachel was right, as it was all in the mindset. Rather like a foreign language. She spoke fluent French, but when speaking French, she thought in that language, she didn’t think in English, and then translate everything as she went. It was the same being a girl. If she thought as a girl, it seemed to come easier.

It was the breasts that made it more believable, somehow. As she looked down, she was aware that she had accepted them as being part of her, and every time she felt any self-doubt, she touched them, and they reassured her as to what she now was. They moved when she did, and jiggled when she made sudden movements. She accepted them as being perfectly natural, and it was as if she had always had them! It dawned on her that she was enjoying this a little too much!

She finished what she had to do, and tucked everything away again, as she dressed. She checked her make up, and even did some minor repair work. Another woman came in, and smiled at her, in that self-conscious way that some women in loos seem to.

She returned to her table, smiling at the three businessmen as she passed them. Then she slid onto her seat, as she had been coached, flicking her long hair back with the appropriate gesture.

“Very good, I’m impressed! But the ‘come fuck me’ smile to the three men was a little over the top!”

“Is that what it looked like? I was just returning their smiles!” Nicole said, rather aghast.

“Their smiles were, ‘hello, do you fuck?’ smiles. And yours, my girl, said, ‘who wants to fuck me first?’” Rachel observed.

“Oh! Perhaps I have more to learn! How should I have smiled?”

“Why give so much? You must learn to graduate your smile, sometimes you can smile with the eyes only. It will come, just take your time.” Rachel said, smiling at the girl’s innocence.

“It is all so hard. And this wig is real itchy!” Nicole complained.

“Well get used to it, until your own hair grows, you are going to have to wear one. We will get your own cut in such a way as to be feminine, and so when it does grow, it will be a nice shape. But that will take several weeks, and the whole thing may be over by then!”

The waiter arrived with their food, and Nicole just concentrated on eating. Even then, Rachel was coaching her to take smaller mouthfuls, and to eat slower and more daintily. Nicole switched to chopsticks, and the criticism lessened.

They finished their lunch, and left the restaurant. Nicole was pleased that the three men were still there.

They spent the afternoon shopping, and Rachel helped her buy a huge range of clothes and accessories. However, when Nicole found herself having her ears pierced, she almost lost her temper. But when presented with several pretty ear studs and earrings, she mellowed, and just went with the flow.

By four o’clock, she was relaxed and comfortable with what she looked like. Rachel smiled as she observed how natural Nicole had become, she was secretly very surprised and pleased at the rapid progress they had made. She wondered whether, deep down, something in Nicole’s nature was this way inclined to start with. She had to admit to being a little concerned at the ease with which Nicole had got into role, and was beginning to get a little perturbed that going back may be difficult.

Nicole’s eyes said it all, as she was actually thoroughly enjoying herself. This was a whole new experience, and she found being a girl a lot of fun. She thought briefly that it perhaps shouldn’t be, but placed the thought firmly at the back of her mind, and got on with it.

They stopped off at a coffee shop, and had a coffee, and Nicole took her shoes off.

“These shoes may be pretty, but my feet are killing me!” she said.

Rachel remembered that they had not bought Nicole any shoes. So, after their coffee, they returned to the fray, and Nicole came away with eight pairs of shoes. In the last shop, there was a pair of black leather boots in the sale, they were knee length with very high heels. They immediately caught Nicole’s eye and she tried them on. She had a wicked look in her eye, and she bought them.

“These will go really well on my motorcycle!” she said.

Rachel smiled, again pleased at the depths that Nicole was taking the whole project. This might work after all! She thought

They returned to the house to find a very concerned Bruce Appleby waiting outside.

“Where the hell have you bee….?” He started to say, and then he saw Nicole get out of the car. His mouth opened, and no sound came out. His eyes nearly popped out on stalks. He saw a tall blonde girl, with amazing legs and a superb figure. She was stunningly attractive! Then he realised exactly who she was.

Nicole smiled, and walked towards him with as much hip swing as she could.

“Why Mr Appleby! How lovely to see you again so soon. I sure am glad we caught you!” she said, in her sexy Canadian voice, and Rachel laughed out loud at the girl’s performance.

“Fucking hell!” Bruce eventually managed to say.

“Well! That is no way to speak to a lady!” Nicole said, and her hands flew to her mouth, as if shocked. Rachel noticed that every gesture was perfect, and this girl loved every minute of it.

Bruce turned to Rachel.

“This is a bloody miracle, and you have done this much in a day?” he said.

“We have made a start. Fortunately, she is a fast learner, and is a born performer. When you gave me this task, I was very doubtful whether we would be successful. But with Nicole here, I am convinced that she will be able to go to work in less that a week!”

“Excellent! Here let me carry these. Bloody hell, how much have you bought?” he said as he found himself laden down with a dozen carrier bags.

“She needs a whole wardrobe, and it is not cheap!” Rachel said.

“Okay, give me the receipts, and I will sort them out!” Bruce said.

They went into the house, and put the bags into Nicole’s room. They met downstairs again, and Nicole put the kettle on and made everyone tea.

Bruce watched as the girl went through everyday actions in a very natural way. When she sat on the sofa, she sat down, being careful to keep her knees together, and she folded her legs under her in a very feminine manner. Try as he might, Bruce just could see no sign of the young man he had seen earlier the same day. But there was something else; Nicole was more confident and relaxed than Nick had ever been. She was prone to smile and laugh, whereas Nick had been rather sombre and withdrawn. He glanced at Rachel, and she looked at him and raised an eyebrow. They would have to speak later, he thought.

He opened his briefcase.

“I have here your drivers licence, in the name of Nicole Le Fevre. I thought it appropriate, as Le Fevre was your mother’s maiden name. You will notice that the date of birth code still has you as male, that can’t be altered, unless you have the surgery!” He joked. He noted that no one laughed.

“I have got you a National Insurance card, again in the same name. I have kept the date of birth the same as yours. These are genuine, we have the means to do this in jobs like this.” He explained.

“What about my bike insurance?”

“Ah, give me the details, we will get you put on it as a named driver for the duration. Likewise, we will arrange a special bank account.”

While they sorted out these rather mundane, but vital details, Rachel went and retrieved all the stuff from Nicole’s room that she no longer needed. She loaded her car up, and returned to the sitting room.

“I have to go. I have my kids to deal with. I shall be back tomorrow at around half past eight, okay Nicole?” she said.

Nicole smiled, and said, “Sure, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks! It has been fun!”

Rachel smiled. “You worked very hard. So well done!”

Nicole’s smile seemed to light up the room.

“I’ll see you out!” said Bruce.

Nicole went up to her room, and unpacked her shopping, and Bruce went out with Rachel.

“I am completely gob smacked! I never expected the result you have achieved so quickly!” he told her.

Rachel looked at him, and then at the window of the room where Nicole now was.

“Don’t underestimate her part in this. I have been dealing with transgendered people for many years. Hell, I was married to one for fifteen years! But she is something else! In all my experience, I have never seen quite so natural a girl! The transformation from the young man I saw this morning to this bright and very pretty girl is so deep that I believe that we have uncovered something that perhaps we shouldn’t have!”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I don’t know anything about him, but in the short time I saw him as a male, he struck me as a rather withdrawn and quiet lad. As the day has progressed, I have watched a veritable butterfly emerge! The trouble is, I believe that she is happier now than she was before, and come the end of the operation, whether in one or six months, she will probably not want to revert!”

“Shit! Are you sure?”

“No. It is just a feeling I get. You saw how she teased you, and played with you when she noticed your reaction to her appearance?”

“Yes.”

“I hadn’t taught her any of that, it was all natural! She has more natural female reactions to things than male!”

“So, you are telling me that she is a latent transsexual?”

“Possibly. There are many facets to the human condition. But that individual is more of a girl than I could have either expected or wished for. It seems that Nicole was there all along, and only needed a tiny jolt to come to the fore!”

“Will this be a problem for us, operationally that is?”

“No, in fact you will probably get more than you bargained for. The problem may come when the operation is over, and you try to get her to go back!”

“Well, we will cross that bridge when and if we ever come to it!”

“I will be back tomorrow. Will you be here?”

“No, I have to set up the O.P., and sort out young Nicole’s insurance and banking problems. This is far for complex than I had anticipated!”

“That’s what happens when you screw around with people’s lives!” Rachel said, with a wry smile.

“Hmm, maybe. Anyway, thanks for your help. Bye!” Bruce said, and he watched Rachel drive away.

He went back into the house, and Nicole was still upstairs. He felt awkward and embarrassed, yet he had to speak to her.

“Hey Nikki!” he shouted, he found it hard to call her Nicole, and this was a sort of compromise.

She came out onto the landing, she had changed into a summer dress. It had straps and was longer, reaching down to her knees. It was in yellow and green with a floral print, and she had sandal type shoes on. Her hair flowed down her back, and framed her pretty face.

“Hi, sorry, I was just trying on some of the clothes we bought.” She said, and came down the stairs.

Bruce watched her, and noted the nail varnish, and earrings. She was every inch a girl, and none of the old Nick was visible.

“Hey, you look very convincing!” he said.

She blushed and looked down, “Thanks.”

“But I really need to know. How do you feel about it?”

She looked at him, and frowned.

“There is the weird thing, I know that this is the first time I have done anything like this. I have to confess I have always been curious to explore my feminine side, and perhaps more than was either normal or healthy. But it is as if I have suddenly found the real me! I actually feel more in control, and more relaxed than ever before. I am a little worried that I am enjoying it too much!” she said.

“Do you want to back out? It is not too late!” he asked.

She looked at him and smiled.

“No, I need to complete this job. I need to know that I can do it and then walk away. If I stop now, I will never know if I could have made a difference or not. But thanks, as I know you mean well. Also, it is great fun, and I actually am looking forward to the challenges to come!”

“Do you want someone to stay with you tonight?”

She shook her head.

“No, I’ll be fine. I am enjoying the peace and quiet, it is a nice change to the section house!”

“Okay, you should have all the food you need in the freezer, I’ll see you when I have sorted out your insurance and bank details.”

“Okay, bye!”

Bruce left, feeling rather guilty at interfering with her life. Then he realised that he thought of her as female now! Maybe this would work after all!

Nicole watched Bruce’s Mondeo disappear down the drive, and she sighed. She was somehow frustrated, as she was all dressed up, and had nowhere to go!

She went back to her room, and took her dress off. Then she saw the boots! She smiled as she tried them on, and they were incredibly sexy. She rooted through her bags and found the little black leather miniskirt, and the white tee shirt she had bought. She put them on, and posed for herself in the mirror. She felt her erection fighting through her underwear, and gasped with surprise as she felt herself coming to orgasm. She rushed into the bathroom, and managed to release things into the basin.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, and she slowly smiled. She felt really good! She adjusted her underwear again, feeling a little guilty.

She found her leather motorcycle jacket, and her full face black helmet.

She practiced putting her helmet on over her wig, and taking it off, without disturbing it. Then she went down and locked up. She put on the jacket and helmet, and started her bike. With her boots, long blonde hair and miniskirt, many a head turned as she swept by. There was a pub on the A34 that was frequently used by bikers, and she fancied a ride.

She cruised at a nice slow speed along the open road. It was a lovely warm evening, and she pulled off at a lay-by, and took her jacket off. She started off again, and enjoyed feeling incredibly sexy as she rode along, well aware that her tee shirt emphasised her breasts.

Several cars containing young men tooted at her, and she raised her visor and waved at them. She finally reached the pub, and saw several leather clad men and women outside enjoying their drinks. She rolled to a stop, and put the bike on its stand.

She took her helmet off, carefully, and shook her hair free. Then she walked into the pub. Her heels were very high, and she walked quite slowly. She ordered and paid for her pint of lager shandy, and went back and sat by her bike. Within a few minutes several bikers wandered over and admired her bike. They sat and chatted to her, and she felt very relaxed and at ease.

One large guy, who had been sitting on a huge gleaming Harley, and dressed in the full Harley leathers, spoke to her.

“Hi, nice bike!”

“Thanks. It’s not a Harley, but I like it!” she said.

“Hey you’re Canadian!”

“Glad you could tell, most people think I am American!”

“I lived in Vancouver for four years. So I can tell the difference! I’m Reg Lawrence.”

“Hi Reg, I’m Nicole Le Fevre.”

He held out his hand and she shook it, as per Rachel’s instructions.

“Nice to meet you Nicole. Are you waiting for anyone?”

She laughed, and he found her laugh delightful.

“No, I just split with my guy last week, I am enjoying my freedom. How about you? No chick on the back?”

“My wife is at home. She hates the bloody bike, so I just cruise, have a half and go home again. At the weekends we go on long trips down to Devon or Wales or somewhere like that.”

“We?”

“There is a group of us from work. We are all middle aged schoolboys!”

“Oh! What do you guys do?”

“We work in a bank. How about you?”

“I hope to work in a club, behind the bar. I have not long been back in the UK. My dad was English, but mom was Canadian. We lived in Canada for most of my life, until they got killed!” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all in the past now. Life goes on!”

“It certainly does. Can I get you another drink?”

“No, one is plenty, I had better get back. I just needed to get out for a while. I am house sitting for a friend. So I can’t leave for too long.” She said.

At that moment three motorcycles pulled in, and to her horror she recognised the men, they were all Met officers from her police station. They knew her bike, and she had to leave in a hurry!

But they didn’t give her bike a second glance, as they were all too busy looking at her. They all went into the pub, and she said goodbye to Reg, and left quickly.

As she travelled down the road, she began to relax, until she became aware of another bike matching her speed, she checked, and it was Reg. She slowed, and he drew along side, and he grinned at her. She smiled and nodded, and they rode like that until her turn off. She waved, and he disappeared up the A34 towards the M4.

She returned to the house, confident that she had what it took to pass the test! She went into the kitchen and looked in the freezer. There were some chicken Kievs, and some oven fries, so she cooked herself a meal. She kept seeing her reflection in the windows, and it made her smile. The one thing which kept catching her unawares was the nail varnish on her hands. She kept surprising herself, and she knew that it was going to take time to get used to things.

She ate her food watching the TV, and then washed up, and went and had a shower.

She took her wig off, and stepped into the shower. She watched the water run off her breasts, and she looked at her male genitalia with distaste. It was at that precise moment she realised that she no longer wished to be male, and had she the opportunity to rid herself of those appendages, she would have quite happily done so!

This caused her considerable confusion and anxiety. She washed, and put on a night dress. She sat on her bed, on the verge of tears, unsure of what was happening and why. Every time she tried to become Nick, and get things into perspective, Nicole took over, and pushed Nick away. Nicole was the dominant and prime personality. She was fighting for her survival, and Nick hadn’t got a chance!

Despite the physical evidence, Nicole won the battle that night, and, eventually, as dawn beaconed, the girl slept, content to be just that, a girl!

Three

Bruce Appleby was very quiet that evening, and Carol asked him several times if he was okay.

Eventually, he admitted that he was worried about the murder investigation, and the fact that one officer was having to take a very tricky undercover job.

“The trouble is, it may cause him some personality difficulties after the job is over, and I feel guilty asking him to do it!” he admitted.

“He knew what you were asking from him, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“You told him what was expected, and the problems he may face?”

“Yes.”

“Then if he was still willing to go ahead, and no one made him do it, it’s his problem!” she said.

“I suppose you are right, but I’d hate to see him get screwed up because of my investigation!”

“He can get out if he wants?”

“Yes, oh I know, I even gave him a chance to back out today, but he sees it as a challenge now!”

“Well then, there you are, he has made the decision, and you shouldn’t feel guilty about it!” she said.

“Yeah, okay. I still feel responsible!” Bruce said, obstinately.

“How is the investigation going?”

“It isn’t! We have come up against a complete brick wall! The only hope for a break through is the undercover operation.”

“Well, there is another justification for keeping him in place!” Carol said. She knew Bruce only too well, and he just needed reassurance that he was doing everything properly.

The next day, first thing, Bruce went in to see the DCI.

“Well, Bruce how is our man getting on?”

“Our man, or rather our girl, is getting on fine! Rachel, the coach, reckons she will be ready to go in to the club in a week!”

“A week, I thought it was going to take longer!”

“We all did, but it seems Nick, or rather, Nicole, is a natural and has taken to the role very quickly. There is a slight possibility that there may be problems as and when the operation is over, and she has to go back to being Nick again!”

“Hmm, is that serious?”

“For him, or for us?”

“Both.”

“For him, yes, there may be all sorts of counselling needed. For us, not really, he hasn’t been ordered to do it, he can back out whenever he wants, and I will give him that option every day!”

“This woman, Rachel, can she help?”

“Sure, but at the moment her brief is to make him into a her! But she brought the matter to my attention, and she is very sharp. I think we will be able to handle it. But you should have seen her!”

“Who, Rachel?”

“No, Nicole! It was amazing, she was a girl, no doubt about it, she was very attractive and 100% convincing, even down to the mannerisms and voice. I wasn’t sure it would work, but now I am sure it will!”

“So what are you doing today?”

“I have a meeting arranged with the manager of the club. I want to put one of our guys in as a doorman, and I need to make it look as if this is the important part of our investigation. Then I have some admin work to do in relation to Nicole’s insurance and bank details. I have to check up on the O.P. and Nicole’s flat. And most importantly, I have to submit her application for the job at the club, but I have to get a digital photograph taken of her to put with it!”

“How can you do that?”

“They only take applicants from the Internet, and the application form is on their web site. The idea is you fill it in, and send it off, without printing any paper off. With a digital camera, you download the picture direct onto the application form. It is all very clever! I have even set up an email account for her, and we filled in the details last night. As it happens, she actually worked in a cocktail bar in Toronto, so has the necessary experience!”

“You keep referring to him as her! Is that intentional, or am I missing something?”

“You have to meet her! I know what I saw, and there is no way I can call her anything other than ‘her’! I don’t really understand how they managed it, but she is a girl!”

“Well, that’s what we wanted, you seem surprised?”

“Yes, I am. I expected someone who looked like a bloke trying to look like a girl. Well, there is nothing bloke-ish about her!”

“Well, that sounds as if everything is going to plan. Keep me updated, and let me know if anything changes.”

Bruce went and sorted out Nicole’s bank details. He called on the local branch manager, and set up an account in her false details. He explained all the circumstances, and the manager was only too pleased to help. He supplied all the necessary forms, and Bruce promised to have them all signed and returned within 24 hours.

He contacted the insurance company, and they simply added the name of Nicole Le Fevre as a named driver.

Sean Cooper was expecting him, and he was whisked straight into his office. It seemed the club opens at 10am, and doesn’t close until 3 or 4 am.

“Thanks for seeing me, I suppose you have a rough idea why I am here?” Bruce asked.

“It has crossed my mind. I suspect you want to put a police officer into the club?”

“That’s right, the only role I can envisage is that of door staff. I can’t impress upon you enough how important this is, and how essential that this knowledge never leaves this room!”

Sean shrugged.

“This is an exclusive club, and it is as important for us that no scandal occurs. Society is hard enough on the transgendered community, the last thing they need is a witch hunt in the press! So it is in our interests to catch the murderer as soon as possible!”

“Good, I am glad we agree on that point. When can we put someone in?”

“As soon as you like! He must be presentable, and reliable. But if he is a copper, then he should be!” Sean said, smiling slightly.

“I will arrange it within the next few days, can you let me know what hours they work, and all the rest of that sort of stuff?”

“No problem, I have the file here. Here, take this with you, and it would be best if he fills out an application form. As it happens we are short of one, so it will be timed well. Do we need to pay him?”

“Do everything as usual, all his pay will be refunded, straight back, but give him a pay slip in the usual way.”

Sean smiled.

“Even better. I may take on another guy at the same time, that way, if your man leaves when the operation is over, we are still up to strength!”

“That is your decision. Thanks for your cooperation. I will get the officer to attend, clutching a completed application form.”

“Ah, difficult. All our application forms are on our web site. We are paper free. So just log in, fill out the form, and submit it as per the screen instructions. Then ring and tell me which one is yours.” Sean explained, and passed over a card with the website address.

“One more thing Mr Cooper. I have to ask, where were you at midnight on the evening Mr McCarthy died?”

Sean smiled.

“I was here, Mr Appleby. I never leave the club between 10pm and when it closes. It is more than my job is worth. You will see me on video, I was at the upper bar, and I was there for about an hour!” he replied.

“Fine. Now come the sensitive one, I am afraid. If you are unwilling to give me a list of current members, I will need a list of any members who had their membership terminated or withdrawn within the last eighteen months. Also any who have resigned. In addition, I will need a list of any staff or performers who have left over a similar period! Ideally I should like a list of all members too, but I see we may need a court order for that one!”

Sean had been waiting for this question, he was not happy about it, but he knew that it would be very simple for the police to seize what they wanted, and he appreciated the DI’s approach. He handed him an envelope.

“That is a list of what you want. I understand your desire to have a list of current members, and I have spoken with the directors. We may be able to come to a compromise, so bear with me!”

Bruce took the envelope.

“Right, that’s all then. Thank you Mr Cooper. I hope we don’t get in each other’s way too much!”

“So do I! Good bye Inspector!”

Meanwhile, Rachel had arrived at the house, to find Nicole up, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, made up, and looking very presentable indeed. She was in a sombre mood, and looked tired, and was yawning.

“Morning Nicole, you look good, but how come you are so tired?”

“Hi Rachel. I don’t know. I didn’t sleep very well. I am not used to these, for one thing!” she said pointing to her breasts. “And I had a small crisis when I had a shower last night. Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, that is why I am here?”

“How does one know that one is a transsexual?”

Rachel looked at her, she had half expected the question, but not yet.

“There are various ways, but no two are necessarily the same. Why?”

“Well, I decided that I actually like being a girl, and I know it is all new and strange, and rather exciting, and all. But it bothered me that I found it so much more enjoyable than perhaps I should have done! Not only that, I was aware that my personality seems to change, I feel more outgoing, more confident, and frankly, more fun! So I took a deep long look at myself, and thought that maybe I am a transsexual, and never really realised it! Can that happen?”

Rachel didn’t know, so she admitted it.

“But, as I said, there is no set formula. In some, the urge and feeling has been there since birth. For others it is a gradual process that builds up over time. So, there is no reason that a sudden change in life circumstances can’t trigger it off. The crucial factor is not what causes it, but what is going through the mind at the present moment! You must ask yourself three questions.

“One: do you feel you want to be a woman, rather than a man, with all your heart and soul?

“Two: if you had to stay as a male, would it be the worst possible thing for you?

“Three: would you be willing to undergo whatever process it takes to get to being female, regardless of cost, pain, and time?

“If the answers to all those are yes, then girl, you have a problem! You may well be a transsexual, and may face a long and very tough road in front of you. If the answers are No, then you are getting a kick out of the situation, so enjoy it while it lasts!” Rachel said.

To her dismay, she saw tears forming in Nicole’s eyes, and they rolled down her cheeks.

“The answer is yes, to each of them!” she said, and started to sob. Rachel cradled her in her arms, and just let her release her tensions. Finally, she managed to stop crying, and blew her nose on a tissue.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what made me cry. It is very strange, I haven’t cried since I was a kid!”

“It’s the hormones. The injection you had yesterday was a cocktail of testosterone blockers and female hormones, just to set you up. It is perfectly normal, so don’t worry. But you need to seriously think about what you told me. I think it wise to back out now, before you get in so far that you never can get out again!” Rachel suggested.

“NO!” Nicole said, forcefully. “No, I think it is even too late now! I want to be doing this. It is my decision, no one has forced me, but this is my free decision, and I want to keep going!” She smiled. “Besides, I am enjoying it more than if I was being what I used to be?”

Rachel looked at the girl, and could see no trace of Nick whatsoever.

“Listen to me, I want you to forget gender games, forget the police and undercover operations, forget why I am here, and what happened yesterday. Just tell me, in you own mind, honestly, who are you?” Rachel looked earnestly at the girl.

Nicole frowned, and was obviously searching her soul.

“I am Nicole! I am a girl, despite what I was, and despite what is between my legs. I am a girl!” she said, very clearly and without hesitation. Rachel nodded.

“Then, my dear, once this little job is over, we need to talk!” she said.

“Why wait, surely we can talk now, and as we go?” Nicole asked.

“I suppose we can, but what do we tell your bosses?”

Nicole frowned.

“Nothing, they don’t need to know, until the time comes!”

“I have to tell you, they will probably already guess!” Rachel warned her.

“How come?”

“Because of how well you took to the task. It is obvious that you enjoy being a girl. You blossomed, and your pleasure was very apparent!”

“Oh!” she said, and frowned.

“Look, I am in a tricky position. I was asked to help coach you for a role, and it seems that that you have grasped the role very well, too well perhaps! I think it wise for us to just tread carefully, and not to immediately make decisions which have far reaching consequences on your future. So, let me do what I am being paid for, and at the same time, we can deal with any issues as and when they come up. Okay?”

Nicole nodded.

“You know, I feel better now!”

“Good, why?”

“Because I know what I have to aim for, and it helps to know I am not alone! But I am a police officer, regardless of any gender issues, and I will do my job!” she said.

“Fine, then go and repair your make up, crying is not good for mascara!” Rachel said.

Rachel put the kettle on, and Nicole joined her a little while later. She was dressed in the summer floral print dress they had bought the day before, and she looked very relaxed and natural.

They sat at the kitchen table, sipping their mugs of tea.

“Okay, coach! What have you got lined up for us today?” Nicole asked.

“Well, I thought we’d venture out again, perhaps to the market. You need to get out as much as you can, into different situations.” Rachel said.

Nicole smiled.

“What is so funny?” Rachel asked.

“It was such a lovely evening last night, I went out for a ride on my bike!” Nicole admitted.

“Oh yes?”

“I wore that leather mini skirt I bought yesterday, the white tee shirt and the boots. I went to a pub on the A34 where bikers hang out. Anyway I was chatted up by this middle aged Harley fanatic, and he was actually very sweet. I realised that I can pass, whenever I want to!” she said, with a big grin.

Rachel nodded, and knew that Nicole was right, but she needed a few pointers to make it even easier for her.

They were about to go out when the phone rang. Nicole answered it. It was Bruce Appleby.

“How’s things?” he asked.

“Fine, we were just going out.”

“Good. What time are you going to be back?”

Nicole asked Rachel.

“About three pm.”

“Fine. I’ll be there then, I will bring a laptop, we need to fill in your application form, and take some pictures. Oh, I have sorted your insurance for the bike, and the bank. So you will be getting a cash point card and cheque book soon. They will be sent to your flat.”

“My flat?”

“We have rented you a flat not far from the club, remember?”

“Vaguely. Okay. See you at three!”

He rang off.

Rachel and Nicole went to the Market in Newbury, and they spent the time going round the stalls. Rachel had Nicole talking to all the stall holders, and made her watch the interaction between women generally. She watched their mannerisms, she picked up on their positive traits, and negative ones, such as poor listening skills.

“Can I not have my own hair done soon, I really hate this wig, it is so hot and itchy?” she said.

“It really is too short, perhaps in a couple of weeks or so. I’m sorry, but there is not a lot to work with.” Rachel said.

“Can I have hair extensions or something?”

“There is nothing to attach them to! You need to be patient. It is a pity you couldn’t have been given a few weeks notice to grow your hair!”

“Mmph!”

“Look, Nicole, your wig looks lovely, it makes you look great! Just be patient, okay?”

“Okay, but I’m not happy!”

“You’ve made your point, now shut up!” Rachel said, laughing.

They had some lunch at a pavement table of a wine bar, and Rachel watched Nicole closely for any masculine traits that might be creeping in. But, of these she could see no sign. Indeed, it seemed that with every passing moment, Nicole was becoming more entrenched as the girl she so obviously enjoyed being!

Rachel had to use the ladies. So she left Nicole alone for a little while.

Nicole was enjoying the sunshine, and was sitting feeling more relaxed than she had for a while. She had been stressed during the night, but now she felt more comfortable about herself.

“Excuse me, is anyone sitting there?”

The voice brought her back to reality. She turned and saw a tall young man, and he was pointing to Rachel’s seat. He was quite dishy, but his hair was too unruly and needed seeing to! He was wearing brown corduroy trousers with suede boots, a check shirt and an old suede jacket.

“I sorry, but my friend has just gone to the ladies. She will be back soon, but we won’t be long. We’ve had lunch and we will be on our way!” she replied.

The young man blushed, “Actually I know. I saw you both together. I was just waiting to get you alone. I’ve now totally lost what I was going to say!” he said, and looked so miserable that Nicole laughed.

“So why did you want to get me alone?”

“I saw you in the market, about an hour ago, and I just had to talk to you. My name is Jamie, Jamie Calder. I’m sorry, you must think me very odd. I just wanted to know if you were real!” he stammered.

“Real?”

“I’ve seen pictures of models and film stars, but I have never seen someone like that for real, until now. So I had to know that you were real!”

“Come on, is this a wind up, or what?” Nicole said, looking around for his mates or a camera. Jamie blushed even redder, and couldn’t meet her eyes.

“No, it’s not a wind up. Look, I’m really sorry, I’ve completely fucked this up! I just wanted to say I think you are beautiful, and , well, that’s all really!” He turned and was about to retreat rapidly.

“Hey, Jamie, wait!” she said.

He looked at her with a soppy expression on his face.

“Pull up a seat.”

He did so.

“Look, you are very sweet, and I’m flattered, but you have gotta get a better line than that! Mind you, you are still here, so it could work!” she said, and he smiled very shyly.

“I’m Nicole.” she said, and he thrust out his hand, and they shook. His grin was so huge she thought is head was going to fall off.

“So, Jamie, apart from propositioning strange women, what do you do?”

“I have just finished College, I am working for my father.”

“And? That doesn’t answer my question!”

“Sorry! I help run the estate.”

“The estate?”

He blushed again.

“Yup, my dad is the Marquess of Bramford. We have a stately home, which is like a conference centre and country club, and then there are the museum and farms. I sort of manage the estate side of things. I did estate management at Cirencester.”

“Is that a fact? Well, I’m afraid that I am the daughter of a university lecturer, and we don’t have stately homes in Canada!”

“I love your accent. Where about in Canada are you from?”

“Well, we lived for a while in Montreal, and then we moved to Guelph in Ontario. My mom was French Canadian, and my dad was English. They died in a car wreck a few years back!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It must be hard for you. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m twenty three, and I don’t mind, how old are you?”

“The same. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Not at the moment, do you?”

He went bright red again, and then laughed.

“Very droll. Good, that. No, I haven’t, got a girlfriend, that is!” he said.

“Hey Jamie, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Please, yes, of course.”

“You seem like a nice guy, but kinda innocent, have you ever had a girlfriend, I mean, a real girlfriend, not just a girl who is also a friend?”

He went so red Nicole thought she would see steam coming from his ears any second.

“Not really. I am not very good with girls, I always seem to say the wrong thing!” he stammered.

Nicole saw Rachel watching, with a wry smile on her face.

“Well, I think you are sweet. But my friend is back, and we gotta go! It has been an education meeting one of the titled classes!” she said, with a smile.

“Oh, must you. Can I buy you a drink, or a coffee or something?”

“Sorry Jamie, we got a lot to do. Maybe we can meet up another day.”

“Oh, can we? I mean, that would be super if we could. Look, I’ll give you my number, and anytime you are free, just ring me. I can meet you anywhere you like!” he fumbled with his pockets, and she produced a pen and a paper pad. He scribbled down his mobile number, and handed it to her. She noticed his hands were shaking.

“Now, if I ring this, I ain’t gonna get the Marquess or anyone like that?”

“No, that is my mobile. I put my email address on there as well. Just in case. I have my own house in the grounds. But I am all over the place, so it is much easier. You will ring, won’t you?” he asked, his face so hopeful.

“Sure, if you want me to!”

“Oh, I really do! If you can.”

“Okay Jamie. I’ll call you!” she said, and stood up, as Rachel appeared.

“Thanks Nicole. You won’t forget, will you?” he said, as they walked off.

She turned round, and said. “Jamie, how could I ever forget you?” in a loud voice, and everyone turned and stared at him. He went bright red, again, and grinned.

Rachel stared at the young man, as if she recognised him, but had forgotten his name.

“You are not safe to leave for a second!” Rachel said. “So who was your friend?”

“Some sweet little guy who has a crush on me. His dad is a Marquess, whatever that is!”

“Just what is your admirer’s name?”

“Jamie Calder. Why?”

Rachel rolled her eyes to heaven.

“He is only the Honourable Jamie Calder, you silly girl! His father is Lord Rupert Calder, Marquess of Bramford, he is in the top twenty richest men in the United Kingdom, that’s all! And young Jamie stands to inherit the lot!”

“Oh!”

“Oh, indeed! That is one young man you leave well alone. I can see the headlines now. ‘Aristocrat Millionaire elopes with Sex Swap Cop!’ It won’t work, my dear, no matter how sweet he may be!”

“Nah, I suppose you are right. But he was very sweet and very innocent!”

“Lets get you home, your boss is coming over, remember?”

“Okay coach. Say, how am I doing?”

“Straight As today, but you may be a bit too much of a flirt!”

They drove home, and sat out in the garden. Nicole changed into a pair of shorts, and a singlet style top. Bruce found them discussing make up, and cosmetics. Rachel was showing Nicole how to do her own nails, and there was much laughter.

He thought that Nicole was looking very relaxed, and if anything even more self assured than the previous day.

“Hi guys. What kind of day have you had?” he asked.

“Hi Bruce, we went shopping and it was cool!” said Nicole.

“Nicole only picked up a peer of the realm!” Rachel added.

“Shhh! Rachel! You promised not to tell him!”

“What?”

“Nothing, Just be assured that Nicole doesn’t need any help in being a girl!”

“Really?”

“She has a few of the finer arts to conquer, but essentially she is pretty much ready. I think she will be more than ready by Monday next week!”

“Excellent. Then we need to get a move on. I need to get a picture of you in something sexy!”

“How about my leathers?”

“They would be good!” Rachel agreed. Nicole jumped up and ran indoors.

“Leathers?”

“Leathers!”

“Oh!”

Rachel laughed.

“So how is she?” Bruce asked after she had gone.

“I was right, she had a crisis last night! She seems to be suffering from an element of Gender Dysphoria. So she didn’t sleep very much, and with the hormones, we had some tears this morning after I arrived.”

“Gender Dys.. what?”

“She believes that she really should be a girl, she is convinced that she is a transsexual. Whether the feeling is temporary or permanent, I don’t know. But she will do the job, and is keen to succeed. I gave her the option to quit this morning, and she shouted me out! We had a really nice day out, and I cannot see any signs of her masculine personality. Nicole is here to stay!”

“Shit! So what do we do?”

“Nothing, she doesn’t want you or the police generally, to know. This is something she sees as personal to her, and nothing to do with the job. It probably would have happened anyway! So we play by her rules. She does the job, and then we face the consequences. To be honest, I am not terribly worried. If she wants to go back, then that’s fine, if she wants to follow the female road, she is so nearly there already, all it would take is a psychological assessment and then surgery. I can already see the results of the assessment, and the surgery is the final act!”

“That will screw up her career, or his career. Shit, she’s got me confused now! What is she, a he or a she?”

“What do you think?” Rachel asked as Nicole appeared in the boots, the leather mini skirt and the tight white tee shirt. She had also repaired her make up.

“That is most definitely not a bloke!”

“There you are then, deal it as you see it!” Rachel said, chuckling.

Bruce took several photographs with the digital camera. Then he plugged in the laptop, and downloaded the pictures. They all looked at the choice, and selected the best one.

They completed the application form that Bruce had downloaded earlier, and included a reference. This was an ex-copper, who now ran his own pub near Leamington Spa. He had been contacted by the Thames Valley Police and after an explanation, he agreed to be a reference for their undercover officer. The peculiar nature of the job was explained, and he agreed to back up the story that he had given a job to a young Canadian bloke, who was good at the bar job, but left to live as a girl prior to having a sex change.

Bruce checked and double checked the details with Nicole, and then he logged onto her new email address, and sent to the club address. A message was returned to the effect that they had received it.

“Is there any way I can get a PC?” she asked.

He smiled.

“This Toshiba Satellite is now yours for the duration of operation Sugar Plum. So be nice to it! Email is one good way to keep in touch with us!” he said.

“Thanks.”

“Right. One of the door staff will be one of our chaps. His name is John. He is a big Milton Keynes officer. He has been on the support group, and he can take care of himself. You will know him as he has a scar on the back of his right wrist, he was slashed by a razor a few years back. He does not know of you, and we will not tell him. But if you get into difficulties, just shout ‘sugarplum’, and he should help!

“So if there is nothing more, I’ll be off. I am actually taking Mrs Appleby out for a meal tonight. So I mustn’t be late.”

He walked off, and Rachel said. “I may as well go. Tomorrow, we will do some make up and other stuff in the morning. And then in the afternoon let’s go up to London by train, and take in a show! How does that sound?”

“Like fun. Are you sure I am ready?”

“What do you think?”

“I feel ready, but you are the coach!”

“Nicole, I have been doing this for a few years. For some individuals, I could give them one to one coaching for several months, and they will never ever be ready. I have been with you for only a few hours, and yet it is as if you have always been what you now appear! A very few people are naturals, and you, my love, are one!”

Nicole grinned.

“But that is not to say you couldn’t make a mistake! So, don’t think you know it all! It takes a lifetime to even start to know how much is all, let alone know it!”

She hugged Nicole and left her alone.

Nicole switched her new laptop on, and logged in to her email account. She smiled and went and found Jamie’s email address, and wrote short note to him.

Hi Jamie.

Remember me? I am the mad Canadian you propositioned in Newbury today. Just to let you know that I lived to tell the tale, and so you can have my email address. You can proposition me via the internet now as well!

I will call. But you need to give me one very good reason!!

Nicole.XX

PS. Do I have to call you your lordship or anything dumb like that?

She sent it and had a wicked grin at the thought of meeting his parents. She knew that it would never work, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

She heard the doorbell, and she went to answer it, forgetting that she was still dressed in the boots and leather mini skirt.

She shrugged, and opened the door. Two scruffy looking men stood there, a transit van was in the drive.

“Yes?”

“Hello Miss. We are in the area, and were wonderin’ whether you’d be wantin’ yer drive tarmacked?” the first Irishman said.

Nicole looked both men up and down, taking a mental note of what they were wearing. She thought they were travellers.

“My father is due back any second, he would tell you. He is a Traffic Police Inspector. If you hang about, I’m sure he would be very interested in seeing you!” she said. She smiled as they couldn’t disappear fast enough. Out of habit she took the number of the van, and wrote it on a piece of paper.

She went back into the house, and felt bored. So she went and logged on to her computer again, and saw that Jamie had replied already. She opened his email.

Nicole

Thanks so much for your message, I was thrilled and surprised you contacted me so soon!

But I am so pleased you did! I am really sorry about earlier. I can be a real idiot at times. It is just I get all awkward with women, particularly if they are beautiful, as you are!

Look, how about meeting me for a drink. Anywhere you like. I would very much like to see you again. I will try not to be such an arse next time!

Jamie. XXX

PS Just call me whatever you like!

PPS one good reason - will you marry me?

She smiled, he really was such an idiot. But she had a soft spot for him, he was either a brilliant actor, or he really was as naïve as he appeared. She picked up the phone and rang his mobile.

“Hello, Jamie Calder!” he said.

“Hi Jamie. It’s Nicole.”

“Bloody hell! Nicole, oh! Shit! How lovely. I didn’t expect you to ring so soon!”

“Hey Jamie, count to ten and we’ll start again, okay?”

“I’m okay now. You surprised me, that’s all. Thanks for phoning.”

“So where would you like to meet me?”

“There is a really nice pub called the King’s Head just down the road from here.”

“Are you known in there?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Then perhaps it is not such a good idea. I don’t want your parents to get the wrong idea!”

Eventually they agreed to meet at the Fox and Hounds that was a few miles outside the village that Nicole was living in.

“I’ll see you there at six, bye now!” she said.

“Super. I can’t wait!” he said, and he found the phone dead.

He found he was shaking. He had never been very confident with women, and today as he wandered round the market, he had seen her. To him she was the most beautiful girl ever, and he fell in love with her. He had followed her, and her friend, as they went round the market. At one point he had overheard her speaking to the stall holder, and she had a really sexy Canadian accent. He didn’t know it was Canadian then, but she had told him later.

He still was unsure how he had managed to pluck up the courage to approach her, but he rehearsed his speech, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he had gone to pieces. Yet she had been so gracious and delightfully forgiving, that he had been able to leave her his number. He never once believed she would call, they never did! But she emailed him, and then called. He had been so surprised to hear her voice, that he had gone to pieces again.

He was rushing back to his small house, when his father saw him.

“Ah, Jamie. Where are you off to?”

“Can’t stop, Dad. I have a date!” he said.

“What kind of date?”

“I am meeting a girl in a pub, I have to change!”

“What girl?”

“A Canadian. I met her in Newbury this afternoon.” he said, still moving.

“Really? She just picked you up?”

“No, I approached her. She was at this restaurant, and I went and spoke to her. I asked her out for a drink. Look I have to go. I’ll tell you about it later!” he was now out of sight, and running.

“Bloody hell!” said his father, and went to find his wife. She was in the kitchen, extracting a tick from the Labrador.

“Jamie is off to meet some woman in a pub!” he said.

“Why?”

“Buggered if I know. Apparently, he just picked her up this afternoon, and now he is meeting her at a pub!”

“How do you know?”

“He just told me. Funny thing. Can’t remember this happening before!”

“He is not usually very good with girls, he used to be quite good with horses though!” said his mother.

“I know. Do you think she comes from a good family?”

“If she is Canadian, probably not. But, it is a good sign!”

“Mmm. I was dreading him telling me he was like my uncle David!”

“What, your queer uncle?”

“That’s the one. I’m pleased really, but I hope he doesn’t propose on the first date. That would be a mistake!”

“Oh Rupert, don’t be an arse, and pass me the tweezers!”

Jamie was at the pub at five forty. He sat on the table outside, nursing a pint of bitter. He was wearing a short sleeved pale blue shirt, and a pair of jeans. He watched the seconds tick away, and as six o’clock got closer, he became more and more nervous. He heard the clock in the pub chime, and he felt disappointed. But just then he watched a large motorcycle come up the road, and swing into the car park.

There was a group of young men at the next table, and they started whistling, and one said, “Fucking hell, will you look at the legs on her!”

He stood up to see, and at that moment the rider took her helmet off, and shook out her long blonde hair. It was Nicole! She took off her leather jacket, and she had a tight white tee shirt on, and a very short skirt, and the most wonderful boots that Jamie had ever seen. Jamie thought she looked wonderful.

She waved at him, and she walked past the crowd of lads.

“Hiya fellas!” she said, and smiled at them. Then she came up to him, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hi Jamie, been waiting long?”

“No, just got here!” he lied, and she glanced at his empty glass, and smiled.

“You sure are a quick drinker, or was that here when you got here?”

“Actually, I got here at twenty to! You look really pretty, you know!” he said blushing again.

She swept her hair back, and laughed.

“Thanks, you look neat too! Do you want another?” she asked. He stood there aghast.

“No! Thanks, but, I mean, let me get you one.” He said.

“You really are old fashioned. But if you insist, I’ll have a bottle of Bud, or Labatts, if they have it. Don’t bother with a glass!” She said, and he shot off like a well-trained retriever.

She took her jacket off, and put it on the bench beside her, and placed her helmet on top, then she sat down.

“Have you eaten?” he asked as he returned with the drinks. He handed her a bottle of Budweiser. “They didn’t have Labatts! Sorry!”

“No problem. Thanks! No, it’s a bit early for me.” She said, taking a long pull at her drink.

“Me too, normally we eat at eight.”

“We?”

“I usually eat with my parents. It saves me having to cook. I’m not very good in the kitchen, I keep burning everything!”

“Not good!” she said, and he laughed.

“I bet you are a good cook!” he said.

“I get by. Living on one’s own is boring, so I get a lot of ready prepared stuff.”

“What do you do?”

“At the moment not a lot. I hope to get a job behind a bar soon.”

“Oh.”

“You seemed surprised?”

“I thought you’d be an actress or a model, or something like that!”

She laughed.

“Well, who knows, maybe if I get discovered!”

“So Jamie, have you any brothers and sisters?”

“No, only child, I’m afraid. My parents were quite old when they had me. Dad is 67 now.”

“I’m an only child too!” Nicole said.

She looked at the man opposite her. He was about six foot one, but so self conscious that he appeared smaller. He seemed to want to hide from the world, and yet he just made himself more conspicuous. He had unruly light brown hair, that seemed to violently resist any attempt to put it in order. He was clean shaven, and judging by the small speck of blood on his chin, recently too!

He had an honest and nice face that would have been almost too handsome if it hadn’t had a broken nose smack in the middle. It gave him a slightly rough edge, that Nicole felt improved him. His blue eyes were what her mother would have called, ‘smiley eyes’, and he had large hands.

“How did you break your nose?” she asked. His hand flew to the offending object, and he grinned.

“Rugger, I was about sixteen. It lost an argument with someone’s head!”

“Where did you go to school?”

“Eton. I loathed it, I’m afraid. How about you?”

“I went to my first school in a small town just outside Montreal, and then High School in Guelph.”

“Did you like your school?”

“It was okay, I guess. I don’t think I looked at it as something you enjoy, just something you had to do.”

“So do you speak French?”

“Sure, but the French would probably disagree!” she said, and he laughed.

She took another drink, and Jamie watched her. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else ever since she had left him in Newbury. No one had ever affected him quite like this, and he was just so happy she was here. He pushed his hair from his eyes, for about the eighteenth time.

“Say, Jamie, why don’t you have a decent hair cut?”

“What is wrong with it?”

“It makes you look like a schoolboy, and doesn’t suit you!” she told him.

“I’ve always had it like this!” he said, rather defensively.

She looked at him, and tried to see what style would suit him. He was a big man, and she smiled.

“You should have a crew cut! It would make you look like a GI!” she said.

“God! Mum would have a fit!”

“Jamie, you are twenty-three, for Pete’s sake! It is time to get your own life!”

He thought about it, and realised she was absolutely right. He was so tied to his family that he had never thought about anything different.

“I wish I was like you!” he said.

“What!” she said, as she was suddenly worried that he had seen through her.

“I mean, I wish I was just a normal person. Every time I get close to someone, my family position frightens them away. And all the girls that my family want me to get acquainted with have less endearing qualities than horses! You are so lucky being normal!”

Nicole looked at him.

“Oh Jamie. If only it was so simple!” she said, sadly.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter, but believe me, no one really gets an easy ride, and that includes me!” she said. She considered telling him, but decided against it.

They just sat and chatted, and the time passed. She was relaxed, and just enjoyed being herself, and felt no constraints or pressures on her. He, on the other hand, was calm on the outside, but inside was in turmoil. He believed he had fallen in love, and was desperate not to lose her. He knew that if he was too serious, she would back off, because of who he was, and he felt it was so unfair.

She stood up.

“I have to go to the loo, I will get the drinks on the way back. Is that bitter?” she said.

“Yes, but you don’t have to get them, the evening is on me!”

“Hey honey, I’m a Canadian, I pay my own way! Okay?” She said. He smiled and surrendered.

He watched her walk into the pub. She moved so nicely, her hips swinging, and those legs! He felt very proud that she was his date, and humble that she was prepared to come and be with him. He tried to work out how he could propose to her without frightening her off.

Nicole went to the ladies, and then bought the drinks. Several men eyed her and one even approached and asked if she was alone.

“Sorry, but I am with a guy!” she said, and he smiled and walked off.

She looked at the menu on the wall, and decided that it looked pretty good. She went back out to the table, and saw Jamie looking rather cross.

“Hey, why the long face?” she asked, as she passed him his drink.

“You don’t want to know!” he said.

“Okay, if you say so!” she said, and sat down next to him. He looked surprised, and she laughed.

“I don’t like having the sun in my eyes, okay?”

“How does someone like me ask a girl like you to marry them?” he said after a long pause. Nicole wondered if she had heard correctly.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Nicole, I know I am making a fuck up of this, but I need you to be honest. I’m not good at expressing myself, so bear with me. I think I am in love with you, and I don’t want you to just walk away from me. Is there any way you would consider marrying someone like me?” he said, blushing beetroot red, and looking so serious Nicole thought he was about to burst into tears.

Her initial reaction was to laugh, and she managed to resist that, as it would destroy him completely.

“Oh, Jamie, you are very sweet, but we both know that you should never propose on a first date!” she said.

“I know, but this is more a sort of exploratory question. No one has ever made me feel this way before, and I just need to know whether I have any hope at all!” he said.

She took his hand.

“Jamie, believe me, we are just too different! I like you, but we would never be able to get married. Get real kid, I would not make a good Marquess-ess!” she said, and her heart lurched as he looked even more miserable.

“That’s Marchioness, by the way!”

“Whatever! Do you really see me as one of them?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly!”

“Yes!”

“Oh, come on Jamie!”

“Life is so unfair! I wish I had been born as something else!” he said, heatedly.

“So do I, Jamie, so do I!” she said.

“Do you? Do you really?” he asked.

“Sure, every day I wish I had been born different, but lets not go into that now!” she said.

He looked so despondent, that she squeezed his hand.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere! There is nothing to stop us being friends, and who knows, the future might hold surprises for both of us!” she said.

He looked at her, and smiled. Hope gleamed in his eyes once more, and the little black cloud over his head seemed to disperse.

“Look, lets grab something to eat, and leave this subject for a while!” she suggested. So they ordered some food, and talked about all manner of things, mainly of him and his family.

By 10pm they were still sitting outside in the warm June evening, and Jamie realised that he had never felt quite so happy in his life. He said so, and she chuckled.

“You sure have a neat way of flattering a girl!” she said.

“It is true! I just love being with you, you make me feel different, somehow!”

“Different? That’s a new one!”

“It is hard to explain, but when I have been on dates before, I am always on edge, and worried about thinking of something to say. But I don’t feel like that with you. We just talk, and if we don’t for a bit, it seems fine, and I am happy just to be in your company.” he said.

“You are sweet, but you need to get out more!” she said.

“I’d like you to meet my parents.”

“Oh! I don’t t