Disguised in Skirts (Part 1)
Transgender FictionBy Clare Cavendish
It was, in fact the best part of two and a half hours before Roger heard a car pull up outside again and rushed to the window. It was not the Renault and his heart sank. However, out of the battered Fiat stepped his mother clutching armfuls of carrier bags and parcels? Roger rushed to the door and unlocked it, waiting for his mother to appear down the corridor. "Get inside!" she ordered sharply as she came into view, almost smothered by parcels. She threw the parcels onto the bed, ordering him to close and lock the door.
"What happened to the car?" Roger asked.
"I've sold it - part exchanged it for another one. Your father would have traced through one of his contacts. It was much too risky."
"Do you really think he will go to all those lengths to get us back, mother?"
"Any lengths - he will see this as personal - a humiliation. It's not me - I could go to hell as far as he is concerned. It's you he'll be after, Roger. Here, come into the bathroom", she ordered.
Both Roger and his mother had dark brown hair - almost black. It being the early seventies Roger, like most boys at the time , wore his hair quite long - much to his father's disgust, who had numerous rows with his mother about it.
An hour after his mother's return they were sitting on the bed staring at each other fascinated, for they were both as blonde as it as possible to be.
"It suits you" Roger said to his mother, grinning.
"You don't look so bad yourself," his mother replied.
"You think we're safe now then?"
"No way! This is only the beginning," she said starting to unpack her parcels. "By the time we've finished he'll never find you. We'll be safe."
[ Back to Transgender Fiction ]
Copyright © Transformation 2006
0.248365879059
