5. WORSE WAS TO FOLLOW

So there I was in the waiting room, resting my aching feet and trying to ignore the harsh clamp of the girdle around my waist. Strangely, I had already got used to the twin mounds on my chest and the rustle of the nylons and petticoats I was wearing. Mum came out of the office wearing a big smile and sat down next to me. 'Timmy,' she said, 'you look so perfect in Tina's party frock that I want to make another proposition to you. I've already agreed to pay you a fiver for what you've done so far, as you know. Would you be agreeable to another fiver, for another bit of modelling this afternoon? It would make a whole tenner to add to your bike fund!'' While she'd been away talking to Miss Fotheringale I had been doing a bit of mental math and realised I was now getting close to the magic 50 pounds I needed to get the bike of my dreams. However, what did Mum have in mind to be offering another fiver?

The answer was soon supplied. What Mum had in mind, was that I should walk home with her wearing Tina's frock, along with the heels, nylons, petticoats and such, calling in at Aunty Joan's house enroute!

The reason for this might appear a little obscure, but Aunty Joan was Mum's elder sister and the two of them just didn't get on from way back. It wasn't all that far away from our house to detour via Auntie's place , so clearly Mum had some plan to show me off as my sister Tina all frocked and frillied up as some kind of joke. Was it worth that additional fiver though?

I then had some awful premonitions of not being able to complete the walk back from Aunties' house because of the strain on my feet, and having to wait at the bus stop while taking a rest. Getting wolf whistles from the local teenage louts was also in the back of my mind! However, I thought about it hard for a minute or so, and decided it was worth that risk to get that additional five pounds for my bicycle savings. Aunty Joan was both notoriously short-sighted and deaf and, with a bit of luck, wouldn't spot that I wasn't really Tina at all. Maybe after a sit down on her sofa and a cup of tea, I might be refreshed sufficiently to be able to walk back home with Mum still dressed in Tina's party frock, stockings and so on …

However, although I might have looked like my twin sister Tina in some respects, my face still looked just like the Timmy I really was. So I had said, 'Mum, do you realise I just won't look like Tina at all, unless I wear a wig and some make-up to disguise me? I know auntie is a bit short-sighted, but even she will work out that it's Timmy and not Tina in the red frock!''

'Ah, yes' said Mum in one of her sees-all, knows-all tones of voice. 'Miss Fotheringale and I had been discussing that aspect in her office. She can find a nice wig for you to wear and get Tracey her assistant to put some make-up on your face. It'll only take a few minutes.' So, barely ten minutes later, I was leaving the Frock Salon with Mum, now wearing a brunette wig, lipstick, mascara, rouge and powder. The wig came off one of the mannequin models and it was actually a bit big for me, so Miss Fotheringale found a sort of tight skull-cap thing that fitted over my head, to which the inside of the wig was pinned securely. I had been most wary about how I would look but once I had seen myself in the mirror of the change room, I was totally convinced nobody – especially short-sighted Auntie Joan – would detect that I really wasn't her favourite niece 'Tina' home early from her boarding school. I really looked so perfect it just wasn't true – but could I manage to walk all that distance in Tina's frock, along with heels and all the other stuff?

6. ONE GIANT STEP FOR A YOUNG MAN

I was soon to find out how difficult it is to walk in a frock and heels out in the open air. Walking up and down on the catwalk in the Frock Salon had been dead easy in comparison. However, outside it was quite a breezy sort of day and the red frock and lacy petticoats seemed determined to be blown upwards by each gust of wind. Mum told me to keep my right arm down by my side, to prevent any unfortunate display of my stockings and underwear courtesy of the breeze.

I'd have liked to have kept both my left and right arms down by my sides to prevent such occurrences, but my left arm was already committed to carrying the black handbag which Mum had chosen to complement my patent black leather low-heeled court shoes.

We had to cross the main road and walk past the cycle shop opposite, and I stole a lingering glance at that racing bike in the window that I dearly would love to own. Somehow seeing it again and knowing that it was getting closer to becoming mine, courtesy of the feminine frock and undies I was wearing right then, made me more resolute in getting this visit to Aunt Joan's over and done with.

My black shoes had metal tips on the heels and gave that characteristic 'click, clack' sound that I had heard so often from ladies out walking, but now the shoe was literally on the other foot – mine! Mum and I continued our walk up the other side of the High Street, before turning off at Coronation Drive, which was where Auntie Joan lived. However, just as we turned off, an even bigger gust of wind came up and, despite my best efforts, the hem of Tina's frock blew up, along with the lacy petticoats. As bad luck would have it, several teenage guys were walking along the other side of the road at exactly that moment, and gave loud 'wolf whistles' as they saw my stocking tops and underwear on full display. I could have died, there and then, but what to do? Mum just whispered. 'Ignore them, Timmy! Just keep walking. Now you know what we ladies have to put up with all the time from you men …'

So we turned off into Coronation Drive and I was so glad to see Auntie Joan's terraced house not far away on the left side. My feet and ankles were really starting to hurt from the unfamiliar walking in heeled shoes they'd been subjected to for about 20 minutes. I was hoping to get this charade over just as soon as I could, not only to earn myself the additional five pounds from mum towards my bicycle fund, but to finally get out of those high heel shoes, bra, girdle, frock and so on. Masquerading as my twin sister Tina was fast losing any attraction it might have once held …..

CONTINUED