Ibiza!
A Gaby / Sarah story by Sarah Bayen and Maddy Bell
The Bond's and Peters decide to visit Ibiza for a break little suspecting they would have a run in with Z list celeb 'Sarah' Brown!
A
What a cheek, I thought to myself, as the overly officious attendant finally gave us back our boarding passes. Of course I had known it said Mr. Brown on the passport, it was my name after all! Just because I didn't wear dreary and drab clothes like the average sixteen year old boy hardly merited him taking ten minutes to consider whether I was a drag queen in the employ of some international terrorist organisation. I wondered briefly how those spies who sometimes disguised themselves as the opposite sex got by; better than I had I hoped.
It didn't help that Liz had found it so amusing either. We were supposed to be going off on our first romantic holiday together, and she decided to kick it all off by laughing at the attendant deciding I was a girl travelling on a false passport. As we walked through to the waiting lounge, I stomped ahead of her, and held my nose high in the air to display my displeasure.
It's not as if I was really dressed as anything other than a boy, not really. I mean I was wearing a nice pair of lacy knickers that Liz had brought me a couple of weeks before, but the attendant couldn't see them. Other than that, I was entirely dressed as a boy. Well, you might argue that my shoes weren't terribly masculine I suppose. They did have a bit of a heel, but to be honest, anyone going out with Liz would have to wear heels otherwise you always looked as if you were standing in a ditch!
So apart from the knickers and the shoes, I was dressed more or less as any sixteen year old boy would be dressed. My earrings were a bit dangly, it might be said, and not many sixteen-year old boys wore quite as much make-up as me, but I was wearing shorts not a skirt for heaven's sake. Not that I didn't have a good few skirts in my luggage, but I was travelling in shorts. They were white, with a pink belt, it's true, but they were still shorts.
The way the attendant had questioned whether it was really my passport or not, in spite of the recent photograph of me inside it, had really got me angry. Didn't he even watch television? Liz and I had got enough coverage over the summer as the ‘modern' couple, where the boy was pretty and the girl was strong. I wasn't even wearing a wig any more. God, and was I glad of that in the heat! Once Liz and I had become an item, I had given it up, and let my own hair grow out. That was much more comfortable, and although it wasn't perfect, I could do enough with it to make it suit most occasions.
We reached the coffee area, and I found a vacant bench, and sat myself down on it tartly. Liz was carrying most of the hand luggage, and looked vaguely amused as she came up, and sat down next to me. “That was a bit of a laugh,” she said, smiling at me.
“I didn't think it was funny,” I replied, looking away from her, with my nose still in the air. I knew that if I looked at her, my anger would disappear like the early morning mist on a sunny day. Her arm went around my shoulders, and I could feel my body telling me not to be so silly. But I had to let her know that I was cross with her.
“You didn't help, laughing like that!” I told her.
Her arm stroked my shoulder. “Don't take it so seriously,” she said. “You shouldn't be surprised that he thought you were a girl, most people do!”
“But I'm dressed as a boy at the moment,” I snapped.
I made the mistake of looking at her, and her strong blue eyes, showing her amusement. “I should think your strappy little top and boobs made him a bit confused,” she suggested.
I looked away again. It was a fair point; I had forgotten about my bosom. I suppose that tended to make people think I was a girl. Of course, when I had first been Sarah, I had used socks and sometimes paper to make my boobs the right shape. It was good in a way, because I could vary the size to suit my outfit. Sue and Anita had insisted that I got something more permanent half way through the summer though, and had taken me to a shop where you could buy stick on pretend boobs. I had taken an age to pick some out. If I was going to have some, I wanted to make sure they were the right size, and had the right feel. Eventually I had been persuaded to get this particular pair, and I had been wearing them more or less all the time since.
“Come on princess,” Liz said, “Cheer up, we're on holiday.”
She loved calling me princess, and I suppose, secretly, I loved it too. It made me feel special, and cared for. But it didn't do much for me trying to pass as a boy, I knew that. “Do you want a coffee?”
I nodded in response, and Liz went off to join the queue. I opened my handbag, and looked around for a mirror. I wanted to check out how I looked after my run in with officialdom. I found a small nice black compact I had bought for myself, opened it up, and had a look. My mascara was still in place, which was good, and my eye shadow looked fine. I carefully examined my eyebrows, which I had had professionally shaped last week, at Nikki's insistence. She said it would be good for the holiday if I had them nicely shaped. They did look pretty good, I decided. My lipstick was worn a bit thin, however, so I quickly put some more on, and checked again. That was better. Thinking I was a girl indeed!
Liz came back with the two coffees, and we sipped at them, while looking at the departure board. It would be a good hour and a half before our flight out to Ibiza, so we had plenty of time to kill. We had anticipated this, and after a few moments, I pulled a magazine out of my bag, and began to flick through the pages. It was obsessed by what we should all be wearing for Christmas, which seemed strange as we were about to head off to the sun. Why was fashion writing always three months ahead of itself, I wondered? Still, there was a lovely black dress that caught my eye. If I teamed that up with the black and silver shoes I had bought myself when Anita and I had gone up to London last month, it might look quite good.
Suddenly I felt rather ashamed of myself for being cross with Liz. I slyly looked at her, sitting beside me, and looking around the lounge. She always looked so confident, and controlled, with her lively blue eyes, and her blonde hair tied back into a loose sort of ponytail. She was wearing an Arsenal football shirt, and rather faded jeans, together with a pair of trainers. God, her feet were so big compared to mine.
“I'm sorry Liz,” I whispered to her, slipping my arm through hers. We should really have been more careful about the public displays of affection we gave each other, people were always thinking we were lesbians, but it was so difficult when she was so hunky. “I didn't mean to be cross with you. It was just that bloke with the boarding passes that upset me.” She looked at me and smiled, and I felt my heart jump.
“I do love you Liz,” I confessed, not for the first time. “You make me feel so,” I struggled for words. “So nice and lovely.”
She smiled at me again, and I snuggled closer to her.
“You're just so special,” I went on, “and you make me feel special too. I never feel worried about anything while I'm with you. And I'm just so looking forward to this holiday!” I continued. “Just you and me together; no football, no television interviews, no anything. I think we deserve it, don't you?”
She smiled at me again, but said nothing. I waited for a few moments, with a quizzical look on my face, to encourage her to reply, but she simply smiled back, and resumed her inspection of the waiting lounge and it's occupants.
“I said,” I repeated. “We really deserve this holiday, don't you think so?” I squeezed her arm gently, and she looked at me for an instant, and then away again in anguish.
“What's the matter?” I asked. I hoped she wasn't ill; not that Liz was ever ill, but it would be terrible if she started the holiday with some sort of disease.
“Damn,” she said, pulling an earpiece from her ear. “Man United have just equalized!”
I pulled away from her, open mouthed. She had been listening to some flaming football match all this time! Pouting once more, I picked up my magazine, and wondered whether it would have any tips on dealing with football-obsessed girlfriends.
B
"Are you packed yet Drew?"
Stupid question! The Drewmeister never packs until the last minute!
"Just doing it now Dad" I called back down the stairs
"Well don't forget anything this time, head, pants, suitcase"
"No Dad" I sighed.
"Well the Peters will be here in an hour so shake a leg eh!"
"Yes Dad"
Well I guess he does have a point with the packing although the missing case wasn't my fault. I've not got a great track record on traveling, I mean I travel okay but my clothes have a mind of their own. And that case did turn up eventually, after a round trip to Madrid!
No muck ups this time, no sirree. One whole week in Ibiza (“Eyebeetha Drew, only real Chav's call it Ibeezer!” Mad had stated only yesterday) with all the family, Mum's even wangled a week off so she can come plus Aunt C will be there to do the cooking, I hope! In fact the whole thing was Uncle Johns idea, we all missed going away last year what with the exchange trip and stuff. Dad took a bit of convincing but Aunt Carol worked on him and even got Gran on his case.
I pulled my case down and opened it on my bed, bum! It's still got stuff in from the school trip, what a nightmare that was! I dumped the contents out so I could start afresh. Yuck some of this stuff needs a serious wash!
Fifty minutes later I made a last sweep around the room to make sure I had everything, camera, Dad's got the passports, phone, I mentally checked off what was in my case, underwear - check, socks - check, swims - check, t's - check, shorts - check, one dressy shirt and trousers - check, shoes - check. That seems like everything, oh yeah, wash kit. I tucked a stray strand of hair out of the way; maybe I should have got Sylv to cut my hair, still too late now.
"Are you coming Drew?" Jules shouted up the hallway
"Just coming" I hefted my case and headed downstairs arriving moments after the Peters.
"I thought you'd decided to stay here," Dad mentioned
"Give over Dave, you know what he's like" Aunt C stated
"Maybe you should be taking Gaby" Uncle John added, "She's always packed and ready"
That's just what I need. Not! So Gaby is more organized, so what?
"Come on Drew, lets get your case in" Mad suggested
"Yeah okay"
We were only a few minutes late leaving; all squeezed into Mr P's huge company Espace , very plush but no luggage space!
"You seen this Drew?" Mad asked tilting her copy of '17' at me.
"Why would I be reading that?"
"I only asked"
"You read my 'Cosmo'" Jules mentioned
"So what is it that I haven't seen?" I managed in defeat
"Make up and dresses for boys"
"Kooky!" Jules stated
"And why would I be interested in that?"
"I was just saying"
"Compared to Mfanwy and Gaby they just look stupid" Jules put in looking over Mad's shoulder. I had to look didn't I? I have to say the lads in the pictures looked just plain silly, over made up and those colours are so last year. Erm, so they tell me.
"It's all because of that boy that was on the telly the other week" Mad advised reading the article, "says here that lots of his friends have already started wearing skirts, and going out with older girls at the school."
"Gross!" Jules mentioned, "who'd want to go out with someone dressed like that?" she pointed to a lad wearing a pink boob tube and white pedal pushers.
I had to agree, whatever sex they were, that outfit was terrible! And with trainers too, Sarah would have a fit! Mind you, they probably couldn't get any girls shoes big enough!
The drive down to East Midlands didn't take long and we had plenty of time before our flight. We checked in, I prayed that my case would arrive at the same place as me and the olds decided we might as well go through to the departure lounge.
We queued first for passport control then security; I've done this a couple of times now so I know the routine. Put anything metal in your bag and you just walk straight through!
"One at a time ladies"
"He means you dumbo," Mad said tugging my elbow
I was dumbly following Jules.
"Okay Miss, you're next" he beckoned me through.
Miss! Grrr! I. Do. Not. Look. Like. A. Girl! I scowled at the officials as I walked through the metal detector, girl indeed! It was only when I caught my reflection a minute later that I realised that maybe my hair really was a little on the long side. And I guess Mad and I were wearing much the same, but she's got boobs!
"They thought you were a girl" Mad chuckled
"Like that's news," I retorted
"Oh come on Drew, lighten up."
"Well this is supposed to be a Gaby free week," I pouted as we collapsed into some seats across from the olds.
"You've not brought, you know, 'her' along have you?" Mad queried
"Too right! Every time I get to see Mum I end up in a dress, not this time!"
Mad snuggled a bit, "I like you when you're Gaby but I much prefer this"
"Give over you two" Jules mentioned
"Leave your sister alone," Dad stated
"Dave!" Carol hissed
"Oh sorry Drew" Dad turned a fiendish red, "so sorry kiddo"
"'S okay Dad" well it wasn't really but I didn't want to put a damper on things, it's the start of a week in the sun!
I closed my eyes and laid back, hmmm, a week of fun, sun and no Gaby!
We might have been flying economy but by some perverse logic we still got some in flight nosh! Not much mind, just a sandwich, lump of fruit and a choccy bar but hey, its food! Oh I nearly forgot, there was a drink too, tea, coffee or orange squash - well it was free!
I suppose I've started to get a bit blasé' about this flying lark, there was the trip to see Mum in Paris, the bike show in Germany and of course the American trip. Mind you this flight is a bit different, Mum called it a cattle truck, not exactly bags of space or comfy seats.
"How's it going Drew?
‘‘Fine thanks Dad, bit thirsty though''
''I've got some water Drew'' Mad offered
‘‘Cheers, Mad''
She passed the bottle over and returned to staring out at the French countryside far below.
‘‘They look like toys''
"Eh?"
"The houses and stuff"
I leant over to have a look,
"I suppose they do" I replied a bit unenthusiastically
"You could show some interest Drew"
"I'm enthusiastic already!"
"Can I have some of that water please?" Jules cut in from over my shoulder.
"Mad?"
"Sure"
I passed the bottle back and started flicking through the in flight magazine. Has anyone ever seen a different one? They all get the same ads and articles just in a different wrapper.
"Drew!"
"Eh?" Jules waved the bottle back at me.
"Thanks Mad, I should have brought some, I didn't think." she waggled it at me again, "you gonna take it Drew?"
"Sor-ree!"
I made a grab for it but missed at the same moment Jules let go.
"Shit!"
"Sorry Drew"
Well sorry as they say won't be enough! The bottle landed safely enough in my lap, but minus the cap! Oh shit indeed!
"Stop shouting Drew" Mad demanded as she turned from the window to find out what the fuss was about.
You can probably guess what happened, yep half a litre of 'sparkling natural mineral water' was now making it's way to the seat via me! Net result - I'm drenched in all the worst places despite the mop up attempts of Mrs P, Mad, Jules and one of the stewardess'. Why me?
"You can't stay in those wet things Drew, you'll end up with a chill" Aunt C sighed.
"Well I've not got anything to change into" I pointed out.
"I've got some spare uniform" the hostess, Sophie, offered.
"I er don't think..." I was interrupted by Aunt Carol.
"That would be fantastic, we'd never hear the end of it if he had to sit in those wet things."
"No problem. Come on, Drew is it, such a pretty name"
“Hey Drew,” Mad called, “you might find these useful” She chucked a poly bag at me which I just caught.
So much for a Gaby free holiday! My hopes were raised a bit when I realised that Sophie was wearing shorts and a polo shirt. Not so bad and they were navy blue too so no girly colours. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
I followed Sophie back down the Cabin doing my best to hide my wet crotch. How embarrassing is that? When we got to the stewards station she pointed me to a flip up seat.
"Have a seat for a mo Drew, it'll only take a minute to find you something"
"Er thanks"
Once seated I checked out the little crew area. On one side there was the tiniest kitchen I've ever seen, it was all there, sink, microwave, even a dishwasher. Pretty much the rest of the area was taken up with storage for one thing or another including the lockers that Sophie was currently fussing with. One of the other stewards dashed through from first class, retrieved a wine bottle and glass before dashing back.
"Here we go Drew, they'll be a bit big but they've got a belt"
She handed me what did indeed look like I might have struck lucky as being shorts or even trousers.
"You can use the first class loo just through the curtain. Oh you might find this useful too" she placed a little pouch on top.
"Thanks"
The toilet in first class was a revelation! As big as the entire crew area, it boasted fluffy towels, a hair drier and even a proper make up mirror! Well I didn't need a second prompt, my soaked jeans and pants were quickly off and I made use of the facilities to, er freshen things up before drying off. It then occurred to me that I was going to have to put my damp undies back on, I mean, it wouldn't be nice to go commando in someone else's stuff would it? I decided to investigate the packages Mad and Sophie had each given me.
Yes! There is a god! But he or she, it must be a she, has a sense of humour! Mad's bag contained a fresh pair of knickers, so I was at least saved from a newly damp crotch! The other little pouch appeared to be some sort of free gift from the airline, there was aright load of bits, a folding brush, toothpaste and brush, sleep mask, fresh wipes and even some lightly scented talc in a little shaker thing – Mad'll like that. As I was still a little damp ‘down below' I made use of the talc and was just about to start dressing again when there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“It's only Sophie, I don't want to rush you but we'll be landing soon”
“I'm nearly done”
“Okay”
I pulled the knickers on, at least they were practical cotton bikini's, not ideal but at least my bits won't keep dropping out! I turned my attention to Sophie's shorts. But when I shook the garment out I realised I was suckered again; it wasn't shorts but a skirt. Grrr! Well the alternative was moldering on the floor, so its wet trousers or dry skirt? Comfort won out so I started to pull the skirt on but something wasn't right. After a quick re appraisal the skirt turned out to be one of those divided things, I think they're called clots or something like that. You know what I mean they're like shorts pretending to be a skirt, that's it culottes. They actually fit quite well, maybe a bit long but the belt wasn't needed to hold them up, either Sophie is very thin or I'm getting fat!
I gathered my stuff and exited the bathroom just as they made the approach announcement so Sophie was down the cabin when I emerged. I know that me wearing girls stuff isn't exactly unheard of but I was really quite nervous as I made my way back to my seat. I needn't have worried; no one even glanced my way as I walked through very conscious of skirts swishing on my bare legs.
“Cute!” Mad greeted me
“Hmmph!” I checked my seat, almost dry.
“Buckle up son” Dad instructed
“I know!”
Sophie and the other stewards moved around the cabin checking seatbelts and the overhead lockers.
“Feeling better now Drew?”
“Um yes thank you”
“Lets put that loose stuff up here ‘till we land eh?”
She took my kecks and sowed them in the locker before moving on.
“Do not say a word,” I warned Mad
“I wasn't going to”
“Like I believe that”
I followed the rest of the family out of the door into the baking sun and carefully descended the mobile steps to the tarmac below. No fancy gantry's here, in fact it reminded me somewhat of Gamston Airfield where we flew to Paris from. A warm breeze made its presence known by blowing up the legs of Sophie's short things, geez! The short walk across to the airport buildings was hot; I mean I was actually thankful to reach the shade and air conditioning inside the terminal.
We were waiting at the carousel for our cases when Dad suddenly disappeared. I looked around and spotted him through the crowd talking to someone.
“No trouble Mr Bond” it was Sophie's voice that carried to me.
Dad spoke quietly, emphasizing stuff with waving arms and shrugs – very French!
“That's fine…yes just leave them at the desk…no, no hurry…okay…sure, maybe I'll see you all when you fly back… just part of the service.”
I saw Sophie disappear pulling one of those little wheeled cases along in her wake.
“Drew!”
“Huh?”
“Your bag” Jules pointed to the carousel, “we are not waiting for it to go round again!”
I had to chase my case along before finally snagging the handle just before it moved out of reach. By the time I got back to the rest of the clan everyone else's bags were piled on a trolley and with a huge swing I got mine onto the top of the pile. We joined the throng to clear immigration and customs and staff obviously bored with seeing hundreds of holidaymakers every day soon had us officially in Ibiza.
Dad and Uncle John left the rest of us to guard the cases while they went to sort out our hire car. When Mum arrives from Germany tomorrow there will be seven of us so Uncle John has arranged to hire a people carrier for the duration. As we lounged about waiting my attention was caught by a bit of a commotion at the other end of the concourse.
What appeared to be a young couple, a gangly blonde youth in jeans and an Arsenal football shirt was having a contretemps with his pretty girlfriend. I must admit I was gawping a bit at her short shorts and not exactly demure pink strappy top, I wasn't the only one looking, they were attracting a fair bit of attention. I couldn't make out what was said, the lad was obviously trying to calm his girlfriend down but she was wagging her finger and finally stomped her foot and stormed outside. I just saw an obviously embarrassed boyfriend shrug his shoulders before Dad broke my view.
“Okay everyone, John will meet us out front in a couple of minutes so lets not get a parking ticket on the first day eh?”
With that I joined the girls and Aunt C as Dad took control of the cases and led the way to the loading zone outside. I spotted the still arguing couple as they waited for the free bus into Ibiza town, she was still holding a one way conversation when Uncle John pulled up in one of those Seat Alhambra things and my attention was diverted to stowing bags for the drive to our rented villa. All thoughts of how I was dressed were pushed way back as I made myself comfortable next to Mad on the back row of seats.
