“Let me hear the accent.”
She frowned and then said, “How you vant me to spik, pliz?”
“Oh, brilliant! I can see why he was smitten, that voice is so sexy!”
Kayla smiled, pleased to be so accepted by her brother.
Mike looked at his watch.
“Expecting someone?” Kayla asked.
“Yeah, a couple of mates said they’d drop by.”
Kayla felt a moment of panic, and her expression obviously was clear to her brother.
“They’re cool, I promise. They’re law students, so they’ll be fine.”
“Who the hell will you say I am? I’m not being Swedish again, that was a nightmare!”
“I’ll tell them the truth.”
“I think that’s worse.”
“Make your mind up, they’ll be here in a second.”
Further discussion halted as two young men arrived. One was very tall and thin. He must be at least six feet five, and appeared to be of mixed race. A pair of blue eyes and a ready smile offset his dark skin.
The other was much shorter, five six or seven, but very stocky.
“Hi guys, got a drink?” Mike asked, but then noticed that both were carrying pint glasses.
They sat at the table, the shorter man sitting next to Kayla.
“Kayla, this is Rob Symes and Scratcher Kumar. Guys, this is my Swedish cousin, Kayla.”
Both men smiled and shook Kayla’s hand. She gave Mike a filthy look for introducing her as a Swedish girl, once more.
“Hi, Kayla, Mike you sod, why didn’t you mention you had such a beautiful cousin?” said Scratcher.
“That can never be your real name,” Kayla said.
“No, it’s Andrew, but I’ve been called Scratcher since Prep school,” the tall lad said, smiling.
Kayla must have looked confused.
“My Dad is Indian and my Mum is English. Dad is really more English than the English. He’s a QC. Mum is a journalist. She writes for Horse and Hound and the Field.”
“Oh,” Kayla said, sipping her wine again.
“So, what do you do, Kayla?” Rob asked.
“I’m still in school.”
Both men expressed surprise and she felt pleased with their reactions.
They discussed people and events of which she was ignorant, so she simply sat and watched their interaction. All three men were relaxed and obviously good friends. Every now and again, they would bring her into the conversation, and she found it easy to talk with them. They listened to her opinions and she didn’t feel they were humouring her.
They both bought rounds of drinks, so Kayla found herself on her third glass of wine. Not normally a drinker, she felt wonderfully relaxed. She had to go to the loo, so she excused herself, hesitating for only a second before entering the ladies.
She had a moment of depression as she lowered her knickers, exposing the unpleasant truth. However, after completing her mission, she readjusted herself, repairing her makeup in the mirror.
She returned to the table, aware now that most of the males in the pub openly watched every move she made. She became rather self-conscious and was grateful to sit down again with the others.
She declined a fourth drink, nursing her third up to going home time. Jake had asked Mike to have her home by ten, as she was due to go to school the following morning.
To her surprise, both Rob and Scratcher kissed her on the cheek when saying goodbye. Mike watched with a small smile, and she actually found she liked the experience.
As Mike drove home, she sat quietly, while her brain buzzed with all the changes she had experienced in the last two days. She had not really expected such changes. Certainly not so rapidly, and she was unsure as to how to deal with the prospect of changing back for school.
“They’re nice,” she said.
“Who? Rob and Scratcher?”
“Yeah. They were really nice.”
“I’m glad you liked them. They liked you,” Mike said.
“Did they, um, do you think they noticed?”
“Kayla, no one would ever notice. You really do look the part, you sound the part and, as far as I’m concerned, you are the part. So, stop worrying and relax!”
Kayla smiled and sat back and closed her eyes.
5.
“Mr Manning, if you should be so kind as to join the rest of us mere mortals on planet Earth, I should be very much obliged!”
Mr Simmonds jerked Kyle out of his daydream and back to the harsh realities of French Impressionist painters.
“Thank you. Now, if you could be so kind, please illuminate us with your opinion as to whom was the greatest inspiration for the French School.”
“Um, Turner, sir. His painting of the fire at Parliament was probably the single most important source of inspiration for the French, sir.”
Mr Simmonds looked at the boy. Kyle was one of his finest art students in recent years. Bright, sensitive and remarkably gifted, he suffered from an almost depressive style, and yet he was always bright and easy to teach. He had recently been prone to drifting off in his own little world, so Harry Simmonds was quite worried about him. Once again, although off with the fairies, his answer was clear concise and as always correct.
“Good. Please try to remain with us for the remainder of this lesson. Now, who knows who was the most influential French Impressionist?”
Kyle was actually miserable. He had slept in a nightdress for the first time, and hated dressing as a boy when woken by his mother. His father had already left for work, and Mike was still in bed. So Rebecca had a morose and rather petulant young man in the house before he left for school.
Kyle went to school with a small smile on his face, for he was wearing his bra and panties under his normal male clothes. The restriction of the bra gave him a constant reminder of who he wanted to be, and he knew that as the summer progressed, he would soon have to forgo the pleasure, with thin tee shirts being the norm.
He had varnished his nails with clear varnish, and had to concentrate hard to walk like a boy. Everything within him wanted to be female, and huge effort was necessary to maintain the pretence of being masculine. Sally knew as soon as she saw him that they had unleashed a beast that was hard to control.
“Hi girl,” she said as Kyle arrived. Kyle hardly glanced up. With his head bowed and shoulders slumped, he was a picture of dejection and misery.
“Hi Sal.”
“You okay?” she asked, as they walked in together.
“Suppose.”
“Your boobs haven’t come yet.”
“Oh.”
“How did you get on last night?”
“Okay. Mike came home unexpectedly.”
“Shit, were you as Kayla or Kyle?”
“Kayla. Mike was okay. Dad had a chat with him, and then he took me out to a pub for a drink. Two of his mates from college came, and he introduced me as his Swedish cousin. This is getting deep, Sal!”
“Cool! Did they suspect?”
“No, not at all. It was great.”
Kyle smiled for the first time and Sally saw a glimmer of the girl within.
“Did you fancy them?”
Kyle frowned and the boy returned.
“Don’t be silly.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t talk about things like this with Kyle. Kayla would understand,” Sally said, and was rewarded by a small smile.
“Shit Sal, this is tough. I don’t want to be Kyle at all.”
She touched his arm.
“I know. Be patient, it’ll be over soon enough!” she said, and he nodded.
The school day seemed to drag dreadfully and lunchtime eventually arrived. Kyle sat with Ricky and Sally, who wasn’t keen on Ricky, went and sat with some of her girlfriends.
“I called you last night. Your phone was off,” Ricky said.
“Oh, yeah, Mike came home and we had a family evening,” Kyle explained.
“What ya doing tonight?” Ricky asked.
“Dunno, why?”
“I dunno, do you fancy a film? The new Matrix is out.”