The Girlfriend Ch. 04

"Well, what do you think, Joe? Do I look cute?" He winked at me. "Don't look like that, I'm only teasing you. Come into the kitchen, I haven't finished cooking yet. Open that bottle of wine and pour us a glass. Glasses are over there in the top cupboard."

I didn't know what to do. Seeing Sam dressed as a woman had really startled me. I hadn't expected him to pull a stunt like this, and part of me wanted to leave but I knew if I did, my assignment would be over before it had started. I took a deep breath, pulled myself together and followed him into the kitchen. I found the glasses and poured us both a glass.

He turned round from stirring a pan on the stove to take the glass. "Did I shock you so much?" he said, looking at me over the top of his glass as he sipped his wine.

"Too bloody right you did." I took a big sip of the wine to steady myself. "I wasn't expecting to see you like... I mean dressed this way."

Sam giggled. "That was obvious from the look on your face. I wish I'd had a camera. Your face was a picture."

"Yeah, you got me alright."

Sam laid his fingers gently on my arm. "Aww, Joe, come on, no harm done. You seemed so interested last night to know about me, I thought that it would be easier to talk to you about it if I was en femme."

"En femme, what's that?"

"Just an expression, it means when I'm dressed like this. First of all, I want to apologise for what I said last night, it was bang out of order."

I shrugged, "No worries, Sam. Like I said, I overreacted. So, let's start again, OK?" I clinked my glass with his and I could see pink polish on his nails as he held the glass. I was over my initial surprise and I took a longer look at him as he turned back to the stove. He was wearing a short black dress under the apron and he had tucked his hair behind his ears which had what looked like diamond studs in them. He wore a pair of black high heels and what I assumed were black tights to match. His face, to my eyes, looked to be perfectly made up, and he seemed completely at ease.

He threw a look at me over his shoulder. "Now you've had a better look at me, what do you think?"

I felt my face go pink as he obviously guessed I had been checking him out.

"Um, I think you look nice."

He laughed, "Nice? That's what you tell your aunt. Come on, can't you do better than that?"

I laughed this time. "OK, I think you look pretty, is that better." I was telling the truth, he did look pretty, much prettier than I thought any man had a right to look.

He grinned back at me, "Getting there, at least. Come on, the table's set, take the wine with you and go sit down. I'll bring the food through."

I walked through to the small dining room where some paintings on the wall caught my eye. There were four small landscapes, and I realised they showed the same landscape painted in different seasons.

"Do you like them?" Sam had come through carrying a tray with the food which he placed in the middle of the table.

"They look great. Did you do them?"

He came over to stand next to me as I looked at the pictures, and I caught a hint of scent as he reached out to point to one of the pictures. He brushed my arm, and a tingle rippled through me.

"They are all the same place in Norfolk, painted in different seasons. I called them the Four Seasons, not very original I know. I used to paint a bit when I lived there. Come on let's sit down before the food gets cold."

Sam served the food, beef stroganoff with rice, and I refilled our glasses. "Sam, this is delicious," I mumbled through a mouthful of the stroganoff.

"Thank you, I'm glad you like it."

I found I couldn't take my eyes off Sam. As a guy he was anonymous, mousy almost, but I was astounded at how he had been able to transform himself. He wasn't beautiful, but had a look that was more than girl next door pretty. The makeup had softened his features, his voice was husky but not overtly masculine and his mannerisms were feminine as we talked. I wasn't sure that I would be able to tell he was a man if I didn't already know.

We finished the food and the bottle of wine I had brought. Sam opened another bottle and topped up our glasses, then sat on the sofa with his legs tucked up beneath him and it hit me that Sophie did exactly the same thing. I had relaxed over dinner as I became more adjusted to Sam dressed as he was, but I was still feeling uneasy with the situation. Be professional I told myself, you're on an assignment. Focus on that. Try as I might, my thoughts kept coming back to how Sam looked.

I sat in an armchair, ignoring the space on the sofa next to Sam. He sipped his wine before putting his glass down and grinning.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Your face, Joe. You look like a rabbit caught in a car's headlights."

"To be honest, you make me—"

"Nervous, scared, excited?" I opened my mouth to protest, but he grinned and carried on, "Actually, I didn't think you would be scared by anything. The night you found me in my flat must have been scary. I mean, walking into my flat, not knowing what was going to happen."

"No, training takes over at times like that. But, this is different. I've never met anyone like you before."

He smiled, "You have. Think about it. You've known me for how long? Eighteen months?"

"Yes, OK, but I didn't know about, I mean, all this."

"So, could it be that I don't scare you, but you scare yourself?" I said nothing and he sighed, "Never mind, do you still want to know why I do this?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"OK, but only if you tell me something."

"What?"

"Why did you become a copper?"

"Whaaat?"

"Fair's fair. If you tell me why you became a copper, I'll tell you about me. Sort of, you show me yours, and I'll show you mine." He smirked as he said it, and I felt myself blush.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Humour me, Joe, please?"

"OK, if you want. I left school and joined the force. That's it."

He frowned. "Come on, Joe. There has to be more to it than that. Tell me, I'm interested."

I shrugged, why not? If I was to get his trust, I would have to give up something. It was a story not many people knew, but if he wanted to know, so be it.

I took a drink. "Ok, but I have to go back a bit first."

His smile lit up his face. "That's more like it."

"My dad was a policeman. Good one too, by all accounts. He was a Sergeant in the Met and he was my hero. He would take me to the station sometimes and I loved being there with him. Then, one night, there was a knock on the door, and my mother opened it to find the station Superintendent standing there with a WPC. My mother told me later that she knew straight away what had happened by the look on their faces. He had been walking the beat with a young recruit, and they tried to break up a fight outside a pub. The youngster was getting a pasting, and my father stepped in. Someone got behind him and stabbed him in the back. He died on the way to hospital. It was that night that I promised myself I would become a copper too."

"Shit, Joe, that must have been terrible. How old were you?"

"Eleven."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Joe, I didn't mean to make you go through all this? I didn't know."

I shrugged. "No way you would know, Sam." I took another drink and emptied the glass.

"My mother tried to put me off, but I had made my mind up. I joined the Met after Uni as a graduate direct entry, did my training and started work as a Detective Constable. I've worked a few big cases, and I'm in line for promotion soon."

Sam stood up and poured what was left in the bottle into my glass. He rested his fingers on my shoulder for a moment. "I'm going to open another bottle."

He disappeared into the kitchen, his heels making a click clack noise on the floor. I leaned back in the chair and wondered why I had opened up to Sam like that. I put it down to the drink, and feeling lonely without Sophie. I watched as Sam came back with another bottle of wine, kicked off his heels and sat back on the sofa. As he pulled his dress down, I glimpsed a flash of stocking top. He caught me looking at his legs. "Not bad are they, Joe?"

"What?" I said, embarrassed at being caught staring.

"My legs you dope, I saw you looking at them."

"No, I wasn't." This was getting out of hand.

"No matter, Joe. Now, what do you want to know about me?"

"Well, how did you start, you know—"

"Dressing as a girl?"

I nodded.

"It wasn't that dramatic, to be honest. I was a skinny kid, small and took after my mum. She was, is I mean, lovely. Dad worked on the oil rigs, all over the world; the North Sea, the Gulf, Australia, the US. Wherever there was a rig, he would be there. It meant he spent a long periods away from home leaving mum and me on our own. Looking back, I think he preferred being away. When I was eight he was working on a rig in the Gulf of Mexico and a high pressure connection failed and the hose whipped around and knocked him off the rig into the sea. They never found his body."

"My God, I'm sorry, Sam."

"Thanks, Jim, but I guess I never really knew him properly as a father. It turned out the company had cut corners on maintenance which was why the connection had failed. Mum had to fight hard for compensation, but eventually won a good package. Some of it was swallowed up in legal fees, but she got enough to buy our house and put some aside."

He poured another glass of wine for himself, and passed me the bottle to fill mine. I was getting a little lightheaded.

"I was a bit of a nerd at school and didn't have many friends, but there was one girl I was close to. We didn't do anything, if you follow, but we hung around with each other, and one wet afternoon at her place when her parents were out, we shared a bottle of cider and got a bit drunk. Out of the blue she said that I would make a pretty girl. I had grown my hair long even back then, and was very proud of it. I laughed it off, but she kept saying it and dared me to let her show me. She was so persistent I eventually gave in. She gave me one of her blouses and a skirt and told me to go in the bathroom and change. Why I gave in back then, I didn't know, but looking back I guess there was something in me that wanted to do it. Who knows, or cares, come to that? I took off my clothes and put on the blouse and skirt and went back to her room. She giggled and I got angry and tried to take them off. She told me me not to be silly and made me sit down on her bed and she did my hair with her curling tongs. She begged me to let her do my face, and by this time I had gone so far, so, I thought why not?"

Sam took a drink from the glass and I could see lipstick on the glass. "You sure this is what you want to know, Joe?"

I nodded.

"I agreed to let her put some makeup on me, and the feeling as she slid her lipstick over my lips was pure ecstasy. She gave me a pair of her tights, and after showing me how to put them on I pulled them up my legs and from that moment on I was hooked. I was in heaven. She eventually let me look in the mirror and I was astonished at how I looked. The hair and makeup made me look like a girl. Not a bad looking one either, if I say so myself. From then on we had regular sessions where she would let me dress in her clothes and we even made out together sometimes. Nothing heavy, just kissing and cuddling. I think she had a thing for girls, and I was just a handy substitute. I didn't care. It was glorious."

He took another sip and I realised my glass was empty again. Sam topped up both our glasses before going on.

"I'm not sure I can describe how I felt, back then; excited, scared, entranced. All those things and more. It was as if I had been half a person, and now I was whole. And before you ask, no, I didn't feel like I was trapped in the wrong body. I knew I was a boy, but I liked to dress as a girl. She and I drifted apart but I never lost the urge to crossdress. At Uni with mum's help I could afford a flat by myself so I could indulge myself whenever I wanted. I studied Computer Systems and developed apps as a sideline to earn something on the side. I also discovered I was bi."

He tipped the last of the wine into our glasses and sat back on the sofa.

"How about you, Joe? Ever gone off the straight and narrow?"

I blushed, "No, believe it or not, Sophie was the first girl I ever slept with."

Sam spluttered as he tried to drink some wine. "Joe, you're kidding, right?"

I bridled at his words, "No, it's true. I didn't bother with girls until I met her."

"Sorry, Joe, I didn't mean anything." He stretched and yawned. "Joe, I have to be up early to do some work, can we call it a night?"

I stood up, my legs feeling unsteady.

"Sure, thanks for the meal, Sam. It was delicious."

"You're welcome." He stood up and walked over to me. "Come on, give me a hug, Joe." He put his arms around me and pulled me to him. I hesitated, but eventually hugged him back. We held each other like that for a second or two before he pulled away and looked into my eyes. Suddenly he leant forward to kiss me on the lips before pulling back again. I couldn't believe what he had done. I was on the verge of bringing back my fist to hit him when I saw the fear in his eyes. The scent he wearing filled my nostrils and something went off in my head, and I pulled him hard towards me and kissed him.

***

I woke to the nagging sound of my mobile phone. After unsuccessfully trying to find it with my eyes still closed on the bedside table, I opened my eyes and found it on the bed beside me. As I blearily looked at the screen, I also realised I was fully dressed. Shit, I must have had more than I thought to drink last night.

"Hello" I croaked.

A female voice said, "Echo wants you to meet her in the Breakfast Club Soho, D'Arblay Street at eight o'clock. Don't be late." She rang off before I could say anything. Six o'clock it said on my phone. I lay back on the bed, rubbed my face with my hands trying to wake up properly. I yawned and my eyes snapped open as I remembered what had happened last night.

Shit, shit, shit, I thought as the events of the previous evening flooded back; my shock at seeing Sam dressed as a woman, the meal, sharing stories, the kiss. I groaned. Fuck, I had kissed Sam. I remembered crushing my lips against his before he had gently pushed me away, telling me that I didn't know what I was doing, that I should go back to my flat and sober up.

I must have crashed out on the bed when I got back. Why had I kissed him? I'm not gay, was the first thought that came to me. Sam had looked so good dressed as a woman that I had just got confused. I didn't fancy him, of course. The drink hadn't helped either. We must have had three bottles of wine between us.

Somehow, I managed to sufficiently push what happened last night to the back of my mind, showered, shaved and left the flat to meet Echo. As I passed Sam's door, I felt hot with shame and embarrassment about what I had done as I hurried to catch the Tube.

I arrived on time too find Echo sitting alone at a table reading a document, and a half drunk coffee on the table. She gestured at me to sit down but continued to read. A waitress appeared and I asked for some black coffee and toast. Echo was still ignoring me. Finally, she put the document away in a briefcase by her side. She slid out a large envelope and laid it on the table in front of her before looking at me.

"You look like you had a rough night."

I guessed she would know I had gone to visit Sam, so I sailed right in.

"Sam invited me for a meal, so I thought it would be a good idea to get to know him better. We had a lot to drink."

"And did you?"

"What?"

"Get to know him better?"

Alarm bells started to go off. Where was she going with this?

"Well, yes. When I got there he was dressed as a woman, but you already know about his cross-dressing."

"How did you react to that?"

"I was taken aback. I didn't expect it, but it didn't make much difference once I got over my surprise."

Echo pushed the envelope across the table. "Yes, I can see you got over your surprise."

I opened the envelope to find several large photographs. They were pin sharp, and clearly showed me kissing Sam.

"It's incredible how camera lens technology has improved, didn't you think? Taken from the building opposite, two hundred metres away at night. Amazing it's so clear. You can even see your wedding ring on your finger if you look closely. I admit we got lucky, there was a gap in the curtains in his flat."

Blood drained from face and my hands trembled as I stared at the photographs, unwilling to look at Echo.

"I did ask you to get close to him, and you have certainly done that."

I thought I would throw up all over the table as I stared at the photographs, but I managed to drag my eyes away from the photographs to look at her.

"It's not what it looks like."

"I think it's exactly what it looks like. You are kissing Sam Chadwick who is dressed as a woman. What else could it look like?"

My life was unraveling in those photographs. How had a moment of sheer madness brought me to this?

"If I resign, will you not share the photographs?"

"Resign? Good God, no, I don't want you to resign. This is better than I had ever hoped for." She gestured at the photographs. "I want you to develop this further with Chadwick."

I swear my heart stopped beating. "You want me to do what?"

"I want you to let this play out and see where it leads."

She couldn't mean it, could she? "You want me to get into a relationship with him?"

"I don't care what you call it, this is the best way to find out who is trying to get to him."

"And if I say no?"

She tapped a fingernail on the photographs. "Oh, I don't think you will say no, do you? Nobody else has seen these. Yet. But, please, if you say something trite like, this is blackmail, I will be sorely disappointed. We all have to do what we have to do."

I stared down at the photographs. I had no doubts she would use these if I tried to refuse to do what she asked. Once more I felt sick.

"String him along, do whatever you need to, I want to know whatever he tells you. Pillow talk is always useful. I mean, you don't have to have sex with him if you don't want. Although, even I have to say he does look very attractive as a woman."

She stopped talking and let the silence and her threat bear down on me.

"The skipper told me not to trust you."

"Did he? Good advice. Well, what's your decision?"

I was in a corner and she knew it. I swallowed, Alright, I don't have choice, do I? I will do it, but as soon as I get him to talk, I'm out."

"Of course. Whatever you want. Good, now I have to be on my way. Enjoy your breakfast and I'll be in touch."

She swept the envelope and the photographs into her briefcase and walked away. I sat there for a while contemplating the hole I had dug for myself. What the hell was I going to do? My coffee was left undrunk, I don't think I could have stomached it. Soho is always busy, but as I walked I wasn't aware of anything or anybody. Feeling wretched and miserable, and unable to talk to anybody about it, I wandered through the streets. I thought about confessing everything to Sophie, but I couldn't face the pain I would be putting her through or the risk of losing her.

Without knowing how I got there, I found myself at Piccadilly Circus and took the tube home. I was still in a daze when I arrived and let myself into my flat. Slumping onto the sofa, I tried to think what I was going to do. I was angry at Echo for putting me in this position and at Sam for what had happened last night. It took me an effort to stop going down to Sam's flat and confronting him about it all. If I did it would be the end of my career as Echo would surely find out about it.