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Fanfic - (Based on the characters created by Maddy Bell.) All of the original situations in this story are mine, the rest is the intellectual property of Maddy.


Part 8

 

It was quite some time since he had washed a car, although he was pleased he had chosen to do Carol's Honda, it was smaller and he could reach the top of the roof if he stood on tip toes.

Half an hour of hard work followed, but finally, the car was washed and dried and he was buffing the wax polish he also spread on the paintwork. His arms ached, but in a nice way. Exercise was good, and his body enjoyed it.

“You've done a good job there bo….girl,” said Dave quickly correcting himself.

“I had a good teacher.” Said Drew, deliberately, but sincerely flattering his father. His father blushed very slightly and broke eye contact for a moment. This was obviously a little difficult for him. He was also tryng to avoid looking at Drew or should we say Gaby's chest, which had got wet and was showing nipples through the damp tee shirt.

“I think you'd better go and change.” Said Dave, trying to look elsewhere. Drew looked down at himself, and smiled, now he understood Dave's embarrassment. The evening was well advanced, so Drew went for a shower and changed into his nightgown. Maddy offered to dry his hair, which he accepted.

“What was all that with your dad?” she asked.

“Nothing much, I wanted to go for a ride and he told me I couldn't. I got cross and so did he. I s'pose he was worried in case that loony was out there again. He's had two goes at me, might be third time lucky.”

“Oh don't!” said Maddy shuddering. “When I saw that car come at you the other night……I thought the worst for a minute.”

“I didn't think and couldn't move, my legs just froze. It was ‘orrible.”

“Ooh, let's talk about something else.”

“I'd like to get the swine, before he gets me.” Said Drew, clenching his fist.

“Keep still.” Scolded Maddy trying to put some rollers in his hair.

“What ya'doin'?” he asked, feeling her pulling on his hair.

“Making you beautiful, why?”

“Oh!” he sat quietly for moment. “I need a plan.”

“You sound like that bloke in The A Team. I think you might have watched too many videos.” She laughed and continued rollering his long hair. Having finished she placed a hair net over them.

“What are you doing, I hope I haven't got to sleep in this lot?”

“Fraid so.”

“You are joking?”

“No, but it will look nice tomorrow.”

“I won't sleep a wink tonight.”

“Yes you will. You'll forget all about them once you lie down.”

“You've gotta be joking, my head feels like a ploughed field and the bloody tractors still there.”

“Don't exaggerate Gabs, it's a combine harvester.” As she said this she fell about laughing and Drew laughed too. When they stopped, Maddy asked,” Well clever boots, what's the plan then?”

“I don't know yet, but I can't go around waiting for this bloke to try and kill me, I need to try and get him to do it and instead fall into our trap.”

“I don't think the council will allow you to dig holes in the road.”

“I was talking meta…whatever it is.”

“Phoric.”

“What is?”

“Metaphoric. You were talking metaphorically.”

“Was I? Alright, so I was. Anyhow, meta-whatever or not, we need to think of a way to draw him and grab him.”

“Come on Gabs, even the police can't do that, so how are we?” Maddy didn't think she liked the way this was proceeding. “You're thinking of being the bait in this trap, aren't you?”

“Unless you want to, I'll loan you my bike and kit.”

“No thanks, I'll pass on that one. Thank you all the same, and I think you should too.”

“I owe that rat-bag twice now, plus one for cheesecake. Then there's that bike I broke. That's three.”

“Four, if you were counting Cheeseman.”

“Four? Oh yeah, well I owe him for four then.”

“Four what?”

“How do I know, but it's what they say in the films, you know, “I owe you one”, and so on.”

“No I don't know. This is beginning to sound silly, almost suicidal and I don't like it.”

“What don't you like?”

“All of it. I don't want to see that pretty face or body of yours damaged.” At this Maddy found herself blushing. “Besides, Harry would kill me, not to mention your parents.”

“What's Harry got to do with it?” Asked Drew, gingerly feeling the superstructure in his hair. “You sure this is going to be alright?” he asked pointing at his hair.

“Trust me, I'm your beauty consultant. As for Harry, I'd have thought he would have lots to do with it.”

“Why?”

“Because he's a boy and you're a girl. If you're going to go all macho, you'd better get some boys to help, failing that get Harry and William.” She laughed as she said this.

“I thought you liked William.”

“He's okay I guess, just a bit slow.”

“I thought he was quite clever.”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it, then?”

“Gabs use your brain.”

“I can't, you stuck rollers in it.”

“Don't be silly.” She scolded him.

“You did, you pulled my hair, and my brain is just beneath that, so you've pulled it up under the rollers.”

“Don't be daft, your skull is between your brain and your hair.”

“Well I think you've pulled that tight too.”

“It's bone, you dummy!”

“It's probably soft after my shower, and you've permanently damaged me with these torture devices.”

“Don't be such a wimp. I thought you were talking tough a moment ago, catching murderers and the like.”

“That's different.”

“Yeah, it's dangerous.”

“So is letting you loose with rollers.”

“So what's this macho plan, then?”

“I dunno yet, but I'll think of something.”

“I think you need to talk to Harry, better still, talk to your dad.”

“He'll only try and stop me.”

“Sounds good from where I'm standing.”

“Maaaaad! I thought you were on my side.”

“I'm too young to wear black.”

“You're wearing black now.”

“I'm talking metaphorically.”

“You're still wearing black, and what's that got to do with my plan to catch Meadows.”

“Have you got one now?”

“Not yet but I will.”

“You sound like Ron Weaslie, from Harry Potter.”

“And you sound like Hermione.”

“That's okay, she's the clever one who always saves his bacon.”

“Maybe I should be the Harry Potter one, then.” Said Drew puffing out his chest.

“Harriet Potter maybe, in that outfit.” Said Maddy causing him to visibly shrink.

“I won't be wearing this when I set out to trap him.”

“If you knew what you were doing, it would be the ideal thing.” Said Maddy under her breath.

“What?” asked Drew.

“I was agreeing with you. I think your junior executive's suit would be much more authoritative.”

“What?” Looking completely confused, Drew asked again, “What are you on about?”

“Look here Nancy Drew….”then realising the unconscious pun she had made, she began to snigger. “Nancy Drew..” she chuckled.

“I'm not a nancy.” Said Drew his eyes, beginning to fill with tears.

“I didn't mean it like that, I meant the girl detective. I hadn't even thought about the Drew bit. Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

“If you call me Barbie the detective, I'll slap you one.”

“Okay, I won't.” Promised Maddy. “Shall we go and get a cuppa?”

“Is the torture session over?” asked Drew, still unsure about the construction standing where his hair used to be.

“No it's torturer's break time, afterwards I put you on the rack and thumbscrews.” Laughed Maddy, walking to the kitchen.

“If that's all, it shouldn't be too bad.” Joked Drew, following her.

“See if anyone else wants a cup, will you? I'll put the kettle on.” Said Maddy.

“It won't fit.” Quipped Drew.

“We've done that one.” Snapped Maddy, like a verbal mousetrap.

“Oh,” said Drew, forlornly, “I'd better go and ask the oldies.” With that, he went into the lounge. “Anyone want a cuppa?” he called from the door way.

Dave who was doing the crossword in the paper, glanced up then back at his paper. Then back at Drew. “Jesus H Christ!” he thought as he saw Drew in nightgown and rollers. He hid behind the paper, coping with the shock as best he could.

Jenny and Carol ordered a cup, but Dave was still twitching behind the paper. “Daddy do you want one?” Said Drew, almost purring. Dave just shuddered, making some grunting noise from behind the paper.

“Dave Bond, answer your daughter.” Scolded Jenny, unaware of his agony.

“Uh? What? Sorry I was miles away,” said Dave, wishing he were.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

“Yes, alright sweetheart.” He smiled back, now calmer from the shock.

“Okay daddy,” quipped Drew, and disappeared back to the kitchen.

“What has he got on his head?” asked Dave to Jenny and Carol.

“Maddy's obviously put her hair in rollers.” Said Jenny casually, “Why?”

“That was Drew, wasn't it?” asked Dave shaking his head slowly.

“It was Gaby, yes, why?”

“Nothing. Just checking.” Dave hid back under his paper.

While the kettle was boiling, Maddy put a face pack on Drew. One that went greenish grey as it dried. Drew had protested, but Maddy convinced him it would get a laugh, so he went along with it. He felt it tighten on his skin, “Is it supposed to do that?” he asked Maddy.

“Do what?” she asked pouring the teas.

“Feel like my face is wrapped in plaster of Paris?”

“Don't talk too much, you'll crack it. Take the teas in and then we can do each others' nails.”

Drew collected the tray and walked in to the lounge. Jenny and Carol saw the face pack and began to laugh, Carol having to rush of to the toilet before she wet herself. Dave, grabbed his mug without looking up from the paper. “Thanks love.” He said, continuing with his crossword.

“So what's with the face pack, then?” asked Jenny.

“Maddy said it was good for my skin.” Said Drew with difficulty, feeling his face stiff under the cleansing mask.

Dave looked up at Jenny and Drew, “My son, the Bride of Frankenstein!” he groaned. The other two sniggered.

“Well?” asked Maddy.

“It got a reaction, dad groaned and called me, Mrs Frankenstein, or something. Mum and Auntie Carol just laughed.”

“Come on, you can do my nails first and then I'll do yours.”

“Okay,” agreed Drew, as Maddy lifted her foot onto his lap, he began to swab her toenails with nail varnish remover. “I hate the smell of this stuff.” He added, referring to the bottle of solvent in his hand.

After cleaning her nails, and then wiping off the remover with a soapy flannel, he dried her feet and began applying the colour she'd chosen. Maddy sipped her tea, enjoying being pampered. Then it was all change, and she repeated the process for Drew. Maddy had opted for a violet shade of varnish while Drew had repeated his choice from before, a pale opalescent pink. It made him feel tidy without screaming girl at everyone. Part of him was going to miss this little bit of intimacy with Maddy, when they got home, and he went back into boy mode.

Having threatened him that the face mask had to stay on all night, she relented and helped him wash it off, which it did with warm water. “No just pat your face.” She instructed as Drew began rubbing his skin too harshly. “Now rub this cream in gently.”

“What for?” asked Drew, thinking the process was over.

“It's a night cream, it will feed your skin while you sleep, besides, you're supposed to moisturise after one of those masks, otherwise they dry your skin too much.” Drew didn't question her advice, it was still partly alien territory to him, and in some ways he preferred to keep it that way. He already knew too much about makeup and lingerie, a knowledge he'd have to hide when he went home.

He cringed as he imagined a scenario, he was with Clive and Paul and he went to sit down. Instead of just hitching his trousers at the knees as he sat, he swept his hand behind him, smoothing down a skirt he wasn't wearing.

“What ya doin' man?” asked Clive his face wearing a puzzled expression.

“Nothin', why?” said Drew, beginning to blush as he realised what he'd done.

“Looked like you were smoothin' your petticoats. Said Clive, enjoying the opportunity to score one over Drew.

“Nah, I thought there was something behind me on the chair.” Answered Drew, now glowing brighter than a beacon.

“Yes you were,” said Paul, joining the fun, “you were doing that like a girl does, before they sit down in skirts.” And to rub salt in the wound, he demonstrated in an exaggerated way.

“No I bloody well didn't. I thought there was something behind me, alright!” Drew felt his voice and anger rising in unison, he didn't want a fight, but he wasn't going to back down either. “ALRIGHT?” he said very loudly.

“Yeah okay, keep it cool, man.” Said Clive, backing down from his irate friend, while Paul, nodded avoiding eye contact.

Drew felt a tear form in his eye. “What's the matter flower?” asked Maddy, hugging him to her.

“I just had a premonition.” Said Drew, more tears began to follow the first one.

“Of what?” said Maddy, hugging him close. She had a cold feeling in her stomach, had he seen his own demise? She didn't really want to know, but she had to.

“I was back in school with Clive and Paul, and as I sat down I smoothed my skirt, only I wasn't wearing one.” The tears rolled down his cheeks.

“That's okay, I do it all the time.” Soothed Maddy.

“That's the problem, I was in boy mode at the time, and they noticed.” He hugged her tightly, feeling tears now streaming down his face. “Do you think I can go back to being a boy again?”

“Course you can.” She reassured him, “In fact you'll have a big advantage over all the other boys.”

“Wassat?” he said sniffing.

“You can almost think like a girl.”

“Maaad!” he said in anguish, “I don't wanna think like a girl, I wanna be a boy.”

“Oh!” said Maddy, thinking, “ Houston, we have a problem!”

A short while later, Drew went to bed. He took his most recent edition of Cycling Weekly , with him. “Shit! The tour was on, he'd forgotten all about it.” How could he do that? It was his ambition to ride in and eventually win a tour, not just any tour, but The Tour! Without satellite or cable TV they were completely off the sporting map in this rural backwater. He'd try teletext the next morning, How was Lance doing? Or was Ullrich gonna beat him this year? How could he forget. He caught sight of his long fingernails shining and reflecting light from the bedside lamp. This was why he'd forgotten, bloody Gaby, why couldn't she stay out of his life. He hated her, he was going to destroy her. Tears once more poured from his eyes, and he turned and buried his face in his pillow as he sobbed, clutching bunny tightly, as he did.

He cried himself into a troubled sleep. In a dream he saw, Mother, she was pregnant but riding a bike out in the country somewhere. He didn't recognise it at all. She passed some old lady who was standing by the road side. She stopped and the old lady asked her for money. “I don't have any with me.” Answered Jenny honestly.

“I curse you.” Cried the old woman.

“What for, you old witch.” Retorted Jenny.

“You'll only have girl children.” Cried the foul old hag.

“Well that's where you're wrong, you old bat!” shouted Jenny, “my scan shows this one's going to be a boy.” She shouted tapping her tummy gently, feeling protective.

“That's what you think, you stupid human. You'll see your folly!” and in a blue flash she disappeared. Jenny, frightened but okay, hugged her belly as best she could. “Don't worry little one, I won't let that old bat hurt you.” She addressed her unborn child, “I won't let anyone hurt you.”

Drew saw himself in the womb as this contretemps was happening. He felt okay at the beginning, then as the old woman cursed Jenny, he felt this tingling all over his body and a sense of a shadow being cast over him. He felt scared, scared in what is possibly the safest place to be. He heard the woman cackling, then came back to present time and him crying on Maddy's shoulder, he could hear the cackling and it scared him.

“You alright Gabs?” he heard a voice and felt someone with a cold hand touch his shoulder. He shuddered, then rolled over on to his back ready to fight the witch, only it wasn't a witch, it was Jules. “You okay?” she asked, but the words didn't really compute.

“What? He asked, looking completely confused.

“Are you alright?” said Jules very slowly. He continued to look at her with eyes which obviously were not yet seeing very much. “Gaby,” she said firmly, “Look at me!”

Drew gave a little jump and his eyes began to focus, “Wassat?” he said.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. What time is it?” He was still very stupefied from his sleep.

“Midnight.”

“You just come in?”

“No, been downstairs talking with the olds, why?”

“I thought dad ‘d be cross with you for coming in late.”

“No, been talkin' to him.”

“What about?”

“Everthin' and nothin', why, you're not usually too interested in my life?” said Jules starting to take off her clothes.

“Yes I am.” Said Drew, trying to avoid the accusation. “What did you talk about?”

“He told me he'd had a run in with you and grounded you.”

“Yeah, he sure did.”

“And he told me he's worried about having two daughters.” As she said this she watched Drew's face fall.

“But he hasn't got two daughters.” Mewed Drew.

“Excuse me,” said Jules, feeling the power of the moment, continued to take off her clothes, then slipping on her own nightdress, said, “So do boys usually wear silk nightgowns, paint their nails and have their hair set in rollers?”

“No.” Mewed Drew again.

“So what does that make you, then?”

“I don't know. I don't know anymore….” Drew began to sob, and Jules began to regret her power trip.

“It's okay Gabs, we'll work something out. Dad was only worried he'd have to pay for two weddings.” She lied, trying to undo some of the damage she caused.

“It was the witch.” Sobbed Drew.

“What witch?” asked Jules, completely throw by this statement.

“A horrible old crone, she cursed mum, telling her she'd only ever have girl children. I was in her tummy, and I felt this horrible shadow fall over me. That's what happened.”

“It's okay Gabs, like witches only happen in fairy tales, or like, bad dreams. You had a bad dream, that's all.”

“But it's true, isn't it, I'm cursed.” Said Drew feebly, tears still flowing down his face.

“Don't be silly. It's just a bad dream. Look, we'll ask mum in the morning if you still feel upset about it. She'll tell you it's only a bad dream, you'll see. Now dry your eyes and settle back down. No witch is going to hurt my little sister while I'm around.” Drew lay back, feeling some security in having Jules there. She'd protect him as best she could, and she was pretty strong, he'd seen her lifting weights when she was into her badminton more seriously than now, she was lifting things he couldn't. She didn't look very strong, but she was like a pocket battleship, like his mother, like him. He drifted off to sleep thinking how tough the women in his family really were, and how glad he was to be one of them.

Angharad ap Gwilym 05.04.06 © 2006
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