3.

Things aren't what you thought.

A short while later Peter knocked on his sister's door.

She opened it.

She was engulfed in a vast white towelling dressing gown, with her wet hair wrapped in a turban of towel. Even in a towel she looked attractive.

She went and sat at the dressing table, using the drier on her hair, while Peter entered, shutting the door. He sat on her bed, watching her in the mirror.

“So, does the little dark beauty stir the nether regions, my dear?” Peter asked.

Without turning round, Katie snorted.

“She's a pretty thing, just your type,” he continued.

Katie turned round, glaring at Peter.

“What about you, brother dearest, does man mountain get the juices flowing?”

Peter sat on the bed, looking slightly upset.

“If you must know, yes, he bloody does! Happy now?”

Katie sniggered.

“Oh, Rob, I so bloody tired of all this. I wish you hadn't interfered, you always manage to complicate life.”

“Pru, if I hadn't, you'd never have met Tony.”

“How can I continue being the boy if I feel like I do about him?”

“He even asked you to go to his club, will you go?”

“You know I can't.”

“Peter can.”

“I'm not Peter, I feel all woman with him around. I'd never be able to keep up this farcical pretence for that long. It's just as well we'll never need meet up with Letty or her cousin again.”

“Bollocks. First thing tomorrow I'm going to call on Mr Greyson.”

“Rob, you can't!”

“Pru, she's fucking gorgeous.”

“She thinks you're a girl.”

“So, that way I can become her new best friend.”

“Rob, you fool, you'll be exposed and ruin everything.”

“How? Do I look like a boy?”

“You know you don't.”

“So what could go wrong?”

“You! You always go wrong. What happens when you get carried away?”

“Then I shall have to be extra careful.”

“Like the last time?”

Rob looked slightly guilty, but then his grin returned.

“We all can learn from mistakes, can't we?”

“You don't realise the danger you are placing us in.”

“Danger, what danger? Look, by making friends with some respectable people, our cover stories will be reinforced. What could go wrong?”

“Tony will see through us, I just know it.”

“Tony? Do me a favour, Pru. He's just a dopey farmer who can hardly see beyond the end of his nose. He's not a threat, believe me.”

“He's more a threat than you realise. He'd see through me after a while.”

“Ho, you make such a good boy, he'll never see you for what you are.”

“Oh yeah! What happens when he asks me to play squash? Have you any idea how uncomfortable it is having one's tits bound up tightly?”

Rob looked down at his own chest. The realistic silicone breast forms swinging free, firmly attached by strong adhesive, looking as if they were natural and giving no clue that the wearer was really a male.

“No Pru, I don't think do.”

“It's one thing to pretend to be someone else, to slip into the country and disappear. It's quite another to make such a public entry into high society. The risks are too great.”

“Bollocks. I think she's the one, Pru!”

“Oh, Rob, if you could hear yourself. They're all the one.”

“No, this one is different.”

“Rob, life would be so much easier if I had been born the boy, and you the girl. You make a far prettier one than I, after all.”

“Perhaps, but you are still an attractive woman. Big, yes, but dead sexy. Besides, I may make a stunning girl, but as a lad, I'm dynamite.”

“I envy you your figure and height, it would have so much more appropriate for us to have been the opposite gender.”

“I'm not bothered about being five six. I'm only three inches shorter than you are, and it's never been a problem for me. Letty is the perfect size for me.”

“Three and a half inches, remember? I'm just so broad. Why couldn't I have your slender figure?”

“Because you take after mum, or so Dad says. He's the lithe and wiry one, so I take after him.”

Pru watched as her brother repainted his toenails with red varnish. His hands were already immaculate and so feminine as makes no difference. Her hands were quite chunky, and it was a constant source of irritation that Rob was as feminine as he was. However, she knew perfectly well that when dressed as a male, there was nothing feminine about him at all. Tough and wiry, with a spirit of power and grace, he exuded an energetic enthusiasm for life that she could only admire and envy. As a girl, he looked stunning but retaining a hidden toughness that seemed to make him even more attractive to men.

She wondered whether these constant role swaps, designed by their parent as a means of completely obscuring their passage through the world, would have any permanent detrimental effect upon them. She quite enjoyed the thrill of fooling everyone, while she knew that Rob adored playing the role to the hilt, in a couple of cases, it almost went that far.

Rob became a girl almost to the core of his being, occasionally taking the role beyond a joke. A prominent Japanese businessman fell head-over-heels in love with ‘Sarah', as he was calling himself, and even proposed marriage to ‘her'.

On another occasion, an Australian oil tycoon, somewhat the worse for wear, wouldn't take no for an answer, and Rob very nearly became the victim of a nasty rape.

It had happened in the Raffles Hotel in Singapore. The tycoon, for some obscure reason was necessary to their father to obtain some drilling rights in the Northern Territory of Australia. Arthur (call me Art) Gallows liked his beer. He also liked his whisky, vodka or anything else that might have any alcoholic content. He also liked blondes.

Rob, in his guise as nineteen-year-old Samantha Fellowes, an American student on year release in industry, was given the task of softening up Mr Gallows, so daddy dear could obtain the valuable signature.

Rob was in the bar, pretending to be waiting for a friend. Art, already slightly lubricated, say a leggy blonde in a very short skirt and tight little top. He strolled over with a subtle chat up line.

“Hallo darlin', where have you been all my life?”

Rob looked at the overweight sweaty Australian with some distaste. However, such a consummate actor, he smiled sweetly and replied,

“Waiting for you, honey.”

Art plonked his impressive bulk onto the bar stool next to his conquest, leering lasciviously at her.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, how about one of those cute little pink ones with a parasol?”

Now it has to be said that Rob was skilled, but after six cute little pink ones with parasols, even he was beginning to lose control.

“How about a walk, to clear the air?” Art suggested.

“Sure,” ‘Samantha' giggling, agreed.

Somewhat unsteadily, the pair weaved their way through the ornate gardens, and Art suddenly dragged Rob to the ground, pinning him on his back with his weight.

“Art, you're hurting me, honey, get the fuck off,” said Rob, maintaining the accent and act.

But Art was too busy undoing his fly with one hand, and groping one of Rob's silicone titties with the other.

“Art! What the fuck are you doing?”

“Come on, honey, you know you want it.”

With that, he ripped Rob's panties off, exposing a substantial length of sticking plaster that held him in check.

Fortunately, the Australian was too far gone, so was unable to see the truth. Rob, now genuinely afraid, heaved with all his might, pushing the big man off him and onto his back, rolling away as he did so.

The sudden movement proved too much for Art, who promptly threw up all over himself.

Rob stood up, rearranging his clothing with his heart racing.

Art started to snore, so without further ado, Rob left the man where he was, lying in a pool of vomit, and returned to his room, where he too, threw up into the toilet. Prudence found him a couple of hours later, sitting on the bathroom floor shaking with sobs.

She sat with him, putting her arm round him, waiting for him to stop crying. She felt her anger build up against her father, so once she put Rob to bed she sought him out.

He'd been in his room, working on his laptop.

“Daddy, this has to stop!”

“And just what makes you say that?”

“Rob was damn near raped because of you?”

“I? Goodness gracious, I haven't seen the boy all evening.”

“Don't play the innocent. You set him up with that fat bastard, and the same fat bastard almost raped him in the garden.”

“He didn't though, did he?”

“No thanks to you.”

“Oh, Prudence, you are so well named. I trusted Rob to be able to take care of himself, and he did. So where's the problem?”

“Daddy, he was damn nearly raped, what would you feel like if he had been?”

“Pru, he wasn't, so there's no problem.”

This wasn't the first such incident, but Rob became more adept at handling lecherous males after that, even to the point of providing ‘hand-relief' on a couple of occasions.

Robert, Pru and Rob's father, managed to acquire the signature from an extremely embarrassed Australian, who could remember nothing about the previous evening after leaving the bar. For some reason, Art was informed that he had actually raped the American girl, and it was only Robert's diplomacy and tact that prevented her from taking the allegation to the local police.

Pru never truly trusted her father again.

Rob finished repainting his nails, putting the varnish away in his large vanity case. He glanced up, as he brushed his long hair.

“Oh, Pru, you're not worrying that I'm turning into a transsexual again, are you?”

“This can't be doing either of us any good. You do it too well to be an act.”

Rob shrugged, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Pru, lighten up. If you take it seriously, then it's bound to affect you. I don't, I treat it as a game, as a challenge. My challenge is to convince everyone that what they see is real. You know how far I've gone with some men, and even when kissing them, it's an act, just as actors on the stage or movies, it isn't the real me.”

Rob cast off the dressing gown, and Pru saw clearly the real Rob. Notwithstanding the silicone breast forms; his shape was otherwise so obviously male that she could only admire his skills in dressing. Padded panties and a tight waist-clinching corset gave him that perfect shape. His arms, normally concealed beneath silk sleeves, were a little too sinewy and the muscles too well defined to be classically female. Yet, Rob had managed to risk the beach in a swimsuit on several occasions, portraying an athletic female, who found herself surrounded by huge hunks of muscle-bound testosterone that left Pru gasping in pure admiration at his skills in deception.

Flirting outrageously, making dates and never going too far, Rob now knew the limits, and if anyone attempted to push past these limits, he was quick and very well able to maintain his honour and his secret.

“Admit it girl, you're jealous of your little brother,” he teased.

“Perhaps, a little. Not so much of your physical attributes, more of your confidence and whole carefree attitude. That I envy.”

“Aha, therein lies the responsibility of being the elder child. I let you worry, and so I don't have to.”

Pru laughed, but in truth was becoming very weary of this game their parent had them play. The role reversal had started when Rob had been thirteen, and they were living in Hong Kong. Rob even attended an English School as Charlotte Ramsay, and had managed to fool teachers and pupils alike for an entire year.

Pru had been Jennifer, and allowed to be Charlie's elder sister. No one questioned the girls, as Charlotte had been so pretty and charming. In fact, much to their father's amusement, in the school play, Pru was selected to play the leading man opposite Rob as the leading lady.

One year later, in New Zealand, fourteen year old Rob was back to being a boy, Jamie Scott, with an elder brother, Simon. Their first names had changed almost on a yearly basis, as had their surnames. In truth, neither of them knew what their real surname was.

“What time do we have to be at Theresa's?” Rob asked.

“She said she'd be home around noon, so we've been asked in time for lunch.”

“Good, then we've time to drop in on the Greysons.”

“Oh, Rob, please give up this madness.”

“Pru, come on, live a little. Your mountain might be there,” Rob said.

Pru smiled slightly.

“Just promise me; no funny business, okay?”

“Moi? Funny business? When have I ever stooped to funny business?”

“Daily, goodnight,” said Pru, wanting to be in her room and having a much needed rest.

Brother and sister kissed each other, both silently thankful for the other. For as siblings, rarely had any been quite so interdependent.

Pru was very tired, and she was so grateful to be free of the tight bindings she kept across her chest. She had a long soak in her bath, allowing her skin time to breathe and be free from constraint. She knew that Rob lived totally as his adopted persona, both in view of others and out of view.

Pru, however, couldn't do that and keep sane. Whenever alone, she'd return to the familiar and comfort of being herself. Therefore, as she dried herself, she slipped on a silk nightdress and not a pair of flannel pyjamas. She looked at herself in the mirror, and realised she did envy Rob. She knew she was good looking, in a larger sort of way. Her cropped hair was indicative of her role, and made her look more masculine. However, her shape was classically hourglass, and she was an accomplished actor, capable of maintaining a deception for long periods at a time.

The voice was the hardest, as both had found. Pru had managed to master a very masculine gruff voice, and found by speaking quite quietly, she was able to sound convincing.

It had to be said, that apart from their school days in strange climes, the longest they'd ever had to maintain a deception normally ran to hours rather than days. This wasn't a problem for Pru, but was for Rob, who needed to shave occasionally.

Pru had also experienced occasional near misses due to her real gender. As one can imagine, tampons and feminine hygiene products are not a prerequisite of many male facilities. She'd become very adept at anticipating such emergencies.

Although weary, sleep was not quick in coming to Pru. Her mind flitted to the incident with Mr Markham and the pretty girl, Letty. However, it was of Tony Fanshaw she thought of most - the tall man with the casual attitude to life. His smile was warm and although slow to start, rewarded one with a depth of humour that seemed to glow. She experienced a strange feeling when she thought of him. For so long she had been prepared to up-sticks and move at a moments notice, the feeling of safety and security was as alien to her as knowing the warmth of home.

Yet, Tony made her feel safe. For under his gaze, she felt a curious protection existed, and from his mere presence, she drew a feeling of security.

Pru fell asleep, but the smile on her face was one that she seldom adopted.

Rob, however, slept like a log. He had an innate ability to be able to close his eyes and go to sleep, at any time of the day or night. This skill annoyed his sister so much that she now believed he did it solely to wind her up.