The Runaway

Fleeing his horrible stepmother to spend time with his real mother, William attempts to hitch-hike all the way to Gallopton in Hopshire; a journey more than three-hundred and fifty miles from his home overlooking the Solway in Cumberland. Navigating with a road atlas stolen from the grounds keeper's car and sticking mostly to back roads, it takes almost all day to travel no more than 50 miles. It's mid-summer and the nights are short and warm so he camps out in a barn and continues his journey early the following morning. He walks for hours fuelling himself with the last of the food he purchased the previous day; that being two small sausage rolls, a chocolate bar and a can of cola. He is eventually picked-up at around 8.30am by a friendly woman in a clapped out old car. “Where are you going young man?” she asked. 

“Erm... Hefferton.” he replied. 

“I'm going as far as Oakford if that's any use?”

“Yeah I guess.” he replied. 

“Well jump in then.” she said. “My name's Vicky.” she told him. 

“Hello... I'm, err... Andrew.” he told her.

“So what's in Hefferton?” she asked. 

“Erm... my err uncle.”

“I see.... and why isn't your Mum or Dad driving you?”

“My Dad's away with work and my step-mum's horrible. She won't let me do anything.”

“Does she know you're visiting your uncle?”

“Yes... but she didn't want me to and wouldn't give me the bus fare, saying I could walk if I was so desperate to see him.”

“I see.” she replied. “Well I'm just dropping a bag of old clothes of at the charity shop in Oakford... but I suppose I could take you all the way to Hefferton.” she offered. He thanked her. “Where've you travelled from?” she asked. He hesitates and stammers as he concocts a reply. She doesn't believe him but plays along, hoping to somehow get to the truth as to where he's from and where he's going. At half past the hour, a  news report about a missing boy comes over the radio and describes a twelve year old boy; William Jackson from Solfirth, shoulder length blond hair, quite thin, possibly wearing a green jacket and blue jeans. “That's you isn't it.” she says. 

“No.” he claimed, pulling his beanie hat over his ears and claiming he has brown hair. 

“Green jacket... check” she says. “Blue jeans... check.” she says, and removing the beanie hat from his head to reveal his shoulder length blond hair, she says. “Blond hair... check.” 

William skewed his jaw. “Please don't dob me in.”

“Are you running away from home?” she asked. He nodded. “Why?” she asked. He tells her about his horrible stepmother, and his awesome dad who's away on business all the time... and the mother he misses so much. “It's quite unusual for a child to be placed with the father rather than the mother.” the woman notes.

“Mum was sick when they separated... she had a breakdown... but she's better now. We talk on the phone but I just want to see her... but Beverly [the stepmother] won't let me.”

“And what about your dad?”

“He'd like me to visit her but he's way on business for weeks on end and Beverly's got him right under her thumb... so it's not happened yet.”

“So it's your Mum that lives in Hefferton, not your uncle?”

“No.” he confessed. “No one lives in Hefferton... but the M1 passes by and I can hitch down to Gallopton.”

“Gallopton?” Vicky quizzed. “In Hopshire?” she asked. He nodded. “That's an awful long way.”

“I know... but please don't call the police... I just want to see my Mum.”

“But the police are looking for you.”

“I know... and they'll send me back to Beverly.” he sighed.

“Is she really so bad?” she asked. “Does she hurt you?”

“She doesn't hit me if that's what you're asking... but she's so strict, especially when Dad's away. She won't let me play out with my friends, and won't let them in the house, and doesn't like me watching TV or making a noise...” he sighed. “...I just have to sit and read or do jigsaws... anything that doesn't disturb her in any way.”

“But she is your guardian.”

“I know but... I want to see my Mum... even if it's just for a day... an hour even!” he pleaded. “Can you help me?”

“I wish I could but this old banger will never get us all the way to Hopshire... and now I know you're planning on hitch-hiking down the M1, there's no way I'm going to just drop you off in Hefferton.”

“So you're gonna turn me in?”

“I want to help you, I really do but I don't know how I can.”

“I suppose I could get the train... I didn't have enough for a ticket from Solfirth. Is there a station at Hefferton?”

“No but there's one at Oakford... but I'm not sure about letting you go all that way on a train on your own either.” she told him.

“...and the police will be looking for me at the train stations.” he frowned. “Why are we stopping?” he asked as she pulled into a lay-by.

“I've got an idea... but you won't like it.” she said, reaching over to the back seat and pulling a bag onto her lap.

“What idea?”

“Well... I suppose I could take you on the train to see your Mum...”

“Really?!”

“Yes... but since the police are looking for a blonde haired boy in a green jacket and blue jeans.” she explained. “What they're not looking for is a blonde haired girl... and I just happen to have two charity bags full of girls clothes.” she said, opening one of the bags to reveal some clearly girlie garments.

William gulped. “Are they your daughter's?” he nervously said, not knowing what else to say.

“No.” Vicky smiled. “The girl who lives next door to me. She's little bit younger than you but, at a guess, you'll be about the same size as her.”

“But... I don't look anything like a girl.” he claimed. 

“With the right clothes and touch of make-up... I think you could look very much like a girl.” she said. “It's the only way I can think of that we could get you to see your mother without being detected.”

William sighed. “But...” he huffed. “I've never dressed like a girl before.”

“Most boys haven't.” she replied. “Think of it as going undercover... like a spy or...”

“I'm too young to be a spy.” he retorted. 

“I know... but we're pretending.” she smiled. “Maybe a gang of thugs is planning on kidnapping you to get a ransom off your rich father... but the only way to evade them is by dressing like a girl.”

“But my dad's on the other side of the world.” William replied. “And I don't want to dress like a girl.”

“Why not? Because girls are feeble?”

“No they're not!” William retorted. “All the girls I know can do anything a boy can do, and Lauren Baxter is one of the best footballers in the whole school.”

“Oh.” she exclaimed. “When I was your age the boys never held us girls in such high esteem... or any esteem at all for that matter. They just thought we either looked pretty or didn't.”

“They can look pretty... but they can be other things too.” he said. “Athletes, scientists, engineers, doctors, teachers, builders, plumbers...”

“Yes, yes you're right.” she smiled. “Oh my how times have changed.” she said. “When I was your age we were dissuaded from having any ambition beyond learning to type and cook.”

“That sounds like the nineteen-fifties! You're not that old.” William retorted. 

“It was the nineteen-eighties.” she told him. 

“What do you do?” he asked. “...for work?”

“I have a small holding.” she told him. “Sheep, goats, hens, a few vegetable crops.” she said. “It doesn't earn much but I get by.”

“So you're a farmer?”

“Not quite but near enough.”

“What did you want to be when you were my age?”

“Oh I don't know. Just happy I suppose.” she told him.

“Hmm.” he responded. “So... do I really have to dress like a girl?”

“Have you got any better ideas?” she asked. William didn't reply but he was clearly racking his brain, desperately trying to think of something. Vicky let him think for a moment before reminding him that all they got is a couple of bags full of girls clothes, “...we don't have a lot of options.”

“We could cut my hair short and dye it brown.” he enthused.

“I could cut your hair but I can't dye it in the back of a car, and you'd still need different clothes.”

“I've got some money. I could buy some from the charity shop you're taking those to.” William suggested. “But if the people in there have listened to the radio... we'd be rumbled.” he figured. 

“What would you do if you were me?” he asked. “...if dressing like a girl is the last thing you want to do, but also your only option.”

“If I were you? I honestly don't know because I'm not a boy.” Vicky replied. “But what I do know is that in helping you I could be doing the most stupid thing I've ever done. I could get arrested.” she told him. “But all you want to do is see your mother... and I can't deny you that.” she said.  “....and the only way we can get you from here to Gallopton without anyone recognising you is...” she paused

“Yeah I know.” he mournfully said. “I don't mind.... it'll be worth it so long as I get to see Mum.”

“OK... let's see what we've got.” she said. 

“I don't want to wear anything pink.” he insisted as she removed several pink items.

“What part of 'disguised as a girl' do you not understand?” she asked him. “Why don't you climb in the back and rummage through the other bag.” she suggested.

“I can't believe I'm agreeing to this.” he said as he squished himself between the seats to the back of the car. 

“I can't believe I suggested it... I could be charged with kidnapping.”

“It's not kidnapping if I'm willing to go with you.” he replied. “If anything I'm taking you with me.”

“Will you tell that to the police when they arrest me?”

“You won't get arrested.”

“I hope not.” she said. “How about this?” she said, holding up a stripy dress with narrow purple, lilac and blue striped running across the cotton fabric.

William turned his nose up at it. “There's some jeans in this bag.” he said. 

“You're already wearing jeans.” she replied. “A different pair isn't much of a disguise.” she said. “You need a skirt or a dress.”

“But girls don't always wear dresses.” he whined. 

“Well unless you find a really girlie pair of pants or shorts... you'll have to wear a dress.”

After much rummaging through both bags, lots of discussion and plenty of rejections, William was eventually convinced that in order to become a convincing 'girl', then he needs to wear something girlie. He ended up wearing a mid blue dress with bright red cherries printed on it. It has short puffed sleeves and a round white collar. Over this he wears a pale pink knitted cardigan with a single button at its plain neck. On his feet is a pair of old blue dolly shoes with a single strap across the instep, and his legs are clad in thin pink tights with a peppering of tiny butterflies in the knit. Also in the charity bags was some girl's knick-knacks; plastic bedroom ornaments, a few small trinket boxes, a baby pink backpack and a glittery handbag. In one of the trinket boxes is a selection of hair clips, bobbles and slides, some of white end up in William's hair. “Oh not make-up too!” he whined when Vicky opened her handbag and removed a small make-up bag. 

“Girls your age love wearing make-up.” she told him. “This is an essential part of your disguise.” she told him, removing several items. Five minutes later, Vicky drops the sun visor to reveal the vanity mirror and his reflection.

“I look like a girl!” William exclaimed.

“A pretty one too.” she said. “Although I'm not sure about your hair... it looks a bit... overdone.” she commented. William rolled his eyes upward to the fringe he couldn't see. The fringe that's held off his forehead with a couple of sparkly hair slides. He couldn't disagree. Two bunches, two bobbles and two slides does feel like an awful lot in his formerly loose hanging hair. “It'll have to do I suppose.” she said. “Shall we see if we can get a train down to your Mum's?”

“Yeah.” he sighed. 

“Are you sure? You don't sound so keen all of a sudden.”

“Well... I am dressed as a girl... all of a sudden.” he frowned.

“And I don't think anybody will suspect you're really a boy.” she told him. 

“How long will it take to get to the train station?”

“About ten minutes.” she told him. “But it might be an hour or two before the next train heading to the south east.”

“What if there's police on the platform?”

“Don't worry about that. They're looking for a boy and you're a girl... and if anyone asks, I'm your aunt and your my niece.”

“But what's my name?”

“I don't know. Think of one.” she suggested. “Maybe the name of  a girl you like at school? Who's the one that's really good at football?”

“Lauren?”

“That's a nice name.” she said. “Shall we call you that?”

“I don't know.” he mournfully relied. “I don't feel like a 'Lauren'.” she said. “She's much sportier than I am.”

“I always liked names like Sally and Alice... proper girlie names.”

“How about Lucy?” he suggested. 

“I think that would be lovely.” she said. “Is that another girl at school?”

William nodded. “She's quite quiet, and really good at maths.”

“Just don't forget and tell me your name's not Lucy... OK!”

“I'll try.”

“Good girl.” she smiled.

“This is going to be so weird.”

“Well I think you're doing very well so far... Lucy.” she smiled. “Does it feel nice, wearing a dress?”

“I dunno.” he shrugged. “These tights feel odd. I don't think I've ever worn anything so thin before.”

“Probably not... and they make them even thinner than those.” she told him. “Now... if anyone asks, you're my niece and I’m your aunt and we're going to London for a few days to visit the Natural History Museum.”

“Why not just say we're going to Gallopton?”

“Because the police might know that you might be heading there, and if we say we're heading there, they might give us a second glance.” she explained. “We'll get two tickets to London and once we're in London, we'll get the train or bus to Gallopton... whichever's soonest.” she suggested.

Before long they pulled into the train station car park at Oakford. It's a small town so its station is also very small. 'Lucy' accompanies Vicky to the ticket office where she's told that the next train to King's Cross arrives in an hour and twenty minutes. She purchases two tickets, costing over £150.00; far more than she expected to pay. “That's why I had to hitch hike.” William told her as they returned to the car, offering her the forty pounds in cash that he has. 

“No you keep that Lucy... it's me that got you involved in this crazy endeavour.” she replied, smiling nervously.

“Not really.” William replied. “You were only going to the charity shop.” he reminded her. 

“Yes.” she smiled. “But your disguise was my idea.” she replied. “I suppose we should get some lunch.... and get these bags packed up and taken to the charity shop.”

“OK... but lunch is on me.” William replied.

“Oh you sweet girl.” Vicky smiled.

“Weird!” William exclaimed.

“You're going to give the game away if you freak when I call you a girl, Lucy.” Vicky smiled.

“I know but... it's so weird.” he replied. “I'm not used to it.”

“I know you're not... but look.” she said. “You're wearing girl's shoes, a lovely pair of tights, a pretty dress with cherries on and a pink cardigan. The only thing you're wearing that doesn’t belong on a girl is your underpants... now I suppose if will help you feel more like a girl... we could buy you some knickers...”

“No!” William exclaimed. “I feel girlie enough as it is.” he claimed. 

“Then stop saying 'weeeirrrd' when you're referred to as a girl.” Vicky retorted. “People are going to presume you're my daughter, you'll hear them say 'she' and 'her' when referring to you, and when they ask I'm going to be telling people that you're my niece, Lucy.” she explained. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” he frowned.

“Good girl.” Vicky smiled. “Now you're going to need a few things in this backpack because it might look suspicious if it's empty...” she supposed, opening the baby pink backpack with its distinctive Nike logo printed in lilac.

“Why not put my own clothes in it?” he said when she began putting more girl's clothes inside.

“Because if we get our bags searched, finding boy's clothes in a girl's backpack will be very suspicious... especially if they match the clothes worn by a missing boy.” she told him. “We'll explain to your Mum why you're dressed like a girl when we get there. I'm sure she'll understand.”

“OK.” William replied. “But what about you? You'll need a bag too.”

“I've got one in the boot.” she told him. “It's not full of clothes but some emergency gear if I get stranded in the car overnight.” she said; listing a warm jacket, hat and gloves, a sleeping bag and a survival blanket, a torch, batteries, glow sticks, power bank, hand warmers and some water and snacks.

“That's loads of stuff!”

“Be prepared.” Vicky said. “That's what they told me when I was as Girl Guide.”

They drove the short distance into the town, parked the car and got out; each carrying a charity shop bag. William was a bag of nerves being dressed as a girl, but no one seemed to give him a second glance, not even the two middle aged women running the charity shop. In the small Co-op they grabbed some sandwiches, crisps, drinks which William insisted on paying for, although he did give Vicky the cash to handover at the 'til and she gave him the change once outside. “Thank you Lucy.” Vicky smiled.

“You're welcome... Auntie Vicky.” William replied. 

The strolled back along the high street toward the car and Vicky said she needed to quickly pop into Superdrug for something, suggesting he look at the make-up for a moment. William loitered uncomfortably in front of what seemed like a thousand different lipsticks. An assistant approached and in a meek, soft voice, he said he was waiting for his aunt and gestured toward the counter, from where Vicky glanced over and smiled. “OK miss.” the assistant said, leaving him be. 

“Everything OK?” Vicky asked as they left.

“Yes.” William proudly replied. “She thought I was a girl.” he quietly added.

“You are a girl Lucy.” Vicky said, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it lovingly. 

William looked down at his dainty shoes and thin patterned tights, his cherry print dress wafting in the breeze, its hem a few inches above his nylon clad knees. He glanced at the passing shop window to see his bunches silhouetted in a dark reflection. Maybe it's not so bad being a girl, he figured. At least it's only for one day. They returned to the car and Vicky checked the time. “We've still got nearly an hour before the train arrives.” she told him. 

“What are we going to do?” he asked. 

“Well... I'm still not sure about your hair. It's got too much in it for a girl your age, so I think if I gave your fringe a little trim and you wore an Alice band... you'd look perfect.” Vicky told him, removing a broad white Alice band from the Superdrug carrier bag.

“Does that mean I can take these out?” William asked, putting his fingers on the pair of glittery slides that hold his fringe off his forehead. She nodded. “Good 'coz they're itchy.” he stated. 

Vicky grinned as he removed them and let his over long fringe drop onto his face. She drove somewhere less conspicuous and parked up. They relocated to the back seat where she'd have a little more room. William removed the cardigan and his bunches and with a damp comb, Vicky combed and straightened his hair as best she could and first tidied up his fringe; cutting it neat and straight across his eyebrows. “We can see your face now Lucy.” she smiled after the final snip. William smiled too and said it's needed cutting for months. Vicky suggested tidying up the rest and asked the boy to sit up dead straight and hold still. “It's not easy in the back of a car.” she said. “So I hope it doesn't look too bad.”

she turned him away from her so she could trim the back, then they swapped sides so she could finish off. “That doesn't look so bad.” she said. “Here.” She handed him the Alice band.

William put it in his hair, first using it to hold his fringe off his forehead, but then pushing it a little further back and letting his fringe drop forward again. Vicky suggested he got out of the car, swept the trimmings off his dress and had a look at his reflection in one of the windows. He did and he froze. His jaw dropped then he took a short sharp intake of breath. His fingers found his face. “Vicky I look even more like a girl now!” he gasped, observing his new bobbed haircut.

“The perfect disguise.” Vicky replied. “Shall we catch a train Lucy?”

William nodded. “Mum's not gonna recognise me at all!” he exclaimed.

“Think she might.” Vicky replied with a smile. “So long as the transport police don't, that's the main thing.” 

They drove back to the railway station and waited on the platform. William felt confident with his disguise; his hair and frock wafting in the wind. He looked Vicky up and down. She wears a pair of practical pants and rugged boots, an open checked shirt over a fitted T shirt. Her auburn hair hangs long, loose and free. A sizeable handbag hangs from her shoulder and the tatty trolley case from the boot of her car stands lopsided beside her. The train soon arrived and they boarded. In order to remain inconspicuous, they sat in a seat without a table and William occupied the window seat. He couldn't help but thumb the ends of his freshly trimmed hair. “Do you like your new hair, Lucy?” Vicky asked.

For a boy it's too girlie and William preferred it unshapely and unkempt. But playing the part of Lucy perfectly, he told Vicky that he loved it and asked if he could still wear bunches. She smiled and said he could. He spent much of his time staring out of the window and watching the landscape roll by. He enjoyed observing how the features close by whizzed passed and those in the distance slowly rolled along. 

Despite it being summer, the air-con on the train was maybe a little too high and he asked if he could put his cardigan back on. “Of course you can Lucy, you don't need to ask.” Vicky replied. He donned it and fastened it's sole button on the collar. It seemed to make no sense that a cardigan would have only one button, but he figured that that's just the style as he  made sure the pan collar of his dress sat on top of the cardigan. There's something very curious about girls clothes, he mused as he focused his attention once again on the rolling landscape.

Each time the train passed beneath a bridge or underpass, he got a brief reflection of himself, or more accurately, of Lucy; the twelve year old girl he's pretending to be. He'd often look at his lap and smooth his skirt. The knitted butterflies on his tights stretched over his knees and he couldn't help but wonder how they could be made. Could it be a complex machine, or a person, slowly and meticulously embroidering the tiny wings and bodies into the thin wispy nylon. He supposes that it might be quite nice being a girl because they get to wear so many more colours and patterns and styles than boys do, although he knows he prefers being a boy. At least boy's clothes are more rugged and he needn't worry about snagging his tights or getting dirty... and how can you climb trees or straddle gates when you're wearing a skirt or dress?  But wearing a dress for the very first time, plus delicate tights and dainty shoes doesn't half make him feel special. He can understand why girls get excited about bridesmaids dresses and party dresses... they must feel so elegant. “You OK Lucy?” Vicky asked. William turned and smiled and nodded. She asked if he was hungry. 

“Not yet.” he replied. “But help yourself if you are.” he said.

“I'm actually starving.” Vicky smiled, ripping open one of the sandwiches. 

William tucked into his sandwich a short while later and a short while after that, Vicky suggested putting his hair in bunches again. “OK.” William replied, removing his Alice band. Vicky removed a comb from her handbag and separated his hair into two halves, tying each side just above his ears with a pale pink bobble. 

“How do they feel?” she asked.

“Bouncy.” he said, bobbing his head a little.

“It's a pity I don't have any ribbons.” she grinned, before suggesting she reapply his lipstick. “You suit this shade.” she told him.

“You're probably just saying that.” William replied. 

“Pale pink looks pretty on everyone.” Vicky replied. “Even an old fogie like me.” she said, applying it to her own lips.

“You're not old auntie Vicky.” William told her.

“Well I feel old when I’m in the company of a pretty young lady such as yourself, Lucy.” she replied. 

William felt bashful. He's never been called a pretty young lady before. The compliment felt nice and despite looking forward to being a normal boy again, he was enjoying spending the day as a girl. The journey to London took three and a half hours and they arrived at King's Cross in the early afternoon. “They're not for me are they?” William asked, seeing armed police with dogs at the exit. 

“No.” Vicky grinned. “This is London... armed police are a common sight at all the important places.” she told him. 

William put his hand in hers and she gripped it tightly. “If we do get separated, you're going to have to go directly to the police and tell them exactly who you are... no pretending... understand?” Vicky told him.

“But what about my Mum?” William replied. 

“London's the last place you want to get lost.” she said. “I’m sure they'd contact your Mum as well as your stepmother.” she added. “...and I guess your Mum would get here long before your stepmother.”

“I'd hope so.” William replied. “Where are we going now?”

“Just across to St Pancras to see if we can get a train to Gallopton.”

“There's two train stations right next to each other?!” William realised as the waited at a pedestrian crossing.

“Three if you could the tube station too.” Vicky replied. 

More police flanked the entrance to St Pancras station but no one seemed to give Vicky and 'Lucy' a second glance. She approached the ticket office and wisely asked for the next train to Margate rather than Gallopton; a few stops before the seaside terminus. “Oh that's excellent.” she said, being told that the next train departs in half an hour. She purchases two tickets. “It's only half an hour Lucy.” she said to William. 

“How long will it take to get there?” he asked. 

“About an hour.” she said. “Do you know where your Mum lives?”

“Forty-three Bridge Road.” he replied. “We'll probably need a taxi from the station.”

“OK.” she said. “We're looking for platform nine.” she said, keeping tight hold of his hand as they bustled their way through the busy station. “I'm not used to so many people.” she said.

Thy found a seat on the platform and William asked Vicky if she'd take his bunches out. “I think Mum's more likely to recognise me without them.” he figured.

“I think she'll recognise you the moment you say 'hello mum'.” Vicky replied.

“I hope so.”

“I know so.” Vicky replied. “Your disguise is very convincing but people who know you will know you're you.”

“Just so long as the police don't recognise me.” William said as two police officers and one police dog strolled up the platform. The looked directly at William as Vicky combed his hair. For all they knew he was a blonde haired girl and a rather prim one at that, with his pale pink cardigan and cherry print dress. 

The train to maidenhead prepared to depart and they soon found themselves on the final leg of their journey to Gallopton. “Are you getting nervous?” Vicky asked. William nodded. “Me too.” she grimaced. “I don't know what you're mother's going to say when she finds out it was my idea to dress you as a girl.”

“But I'd probably be back in Solfirth by now if you hadn't.” William replied. 

Vicky smiled. “It seems fortuitous that I just happened to have two charity bags full of girls clothes... otherwise you may well have been.”

“Thanks for helping me.” William said, looking up at Vicky with puppy dog eyes. 

“My pleasure.” Vicky replied. “But we're not at your mum's house yet... so don't count your chickens.” she added.

Within the hour the train pulled in at Gallopton station and William and Vicky alighted. A fleet of taxis waited and they climbed in the back of the nearest one. “Do you know Bridge Road?” Vicky asked.

“Course love.” the gruff driver replied. 

“There please.” Vicky replied. “In you get Lucy.” she said, opening the back door. The drive from the station to Bridge Road was a mere five minutes. “Is this it?” she asked the 'girl'. 'Lucy' nodded. Vicky paid the driver and they got out. “What number did you say it was?” she asked.

“Forty three.” William replied. “About half way down.”

“When were you last here?” she asked as they began to stroll. 

“When I was ten.” William replied. “Just before Mum and Dad split up.”

“Must've been hard.” she mused. “I hope your Mum doesn't mind that I dressed you up as a girl.”

“I'll tell her it was my idea if you want.” William said.

“Thanks but I think it's best we don't tell lies.” Vicky replied as she kept an eye on the door numbers; thirty one, thirty three, thirty five, thirty seven.

“It's the one with the blue door.” William said as the neared number forty one. Confidently he marched up to it and knocked. A short moment passed before a woman answered. She appeared flustered. “Mum! It's me! William!” he said. 

“Oh William!” she gasped, glancing at Vicky and back to the boy. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“It's a disguise.” he told her. “This is Vicky. She helped me.”

“Oh erm.... you'd best come inside.” William’s mother said. Once in the lounge, she looked her son up and down. “Well I must say this is a surprise.” 

“I ran away from home to see you.”

“You've been all over the news.” his mother said. “Beverly's worried sick.”

“She's not here is she?”

“No.” his mother replied, opening the double doors to the dining room. “But the police are.” she said, introducing DC Howe and DS Barton.

“We had a feeling you'd turn up here young... er... man.” the police officer gulped. “And this is?” he asked, looking at Vicky.

“Erm... Vicky Sterling.” Vicky replied. “I picked him up hitch-hiking and after hearing his story... decided to bring him to his mother rather than take him to the police.”

“He's a missing person! You should have taken him directly to the police.” the officer barked.

“I know. And he'd have gone straight back to his stepmother where he isn't happy... he just wanted to see his mum and I couldn't deny him that.”

“Erm... can I ask?” the other police officer interjected. “Why is he dressed like a girl?”

“Everyone was looking for me. It's a disguise. It was my idea!” William claimed.

“It was my idea.” Vicky confessed. “I was dropping some things off at the charity shop for a neighbour when I picked him up... he was desperate to see his mother but with his description on the radio, and presumably the TV too... I said the only way I could get him from Oakford to Gallopton unnoticed was if he dressed as a girl, and I just happened to have several bags full of girls clothes.”

“And your boy clothes are in your backpack?” William's mother asked. 

“Erm... no.” William replied. “They're in Vicky's car at Oakford station.” he said. “This is full of girls clothes in case we had our bags searched.”

“Oh.” his mother remarked. “Well there's nothing here for you to wear.”

“That's OK. I don't mind being a girl for a day so long as I get to see you Mum.”

One of the officers radioed their superior, informing them that the boy had been found unharmed. “Yes he turned up at his mother's a few minutes ago.” they added. “OK. Over.”

“Are they gonna take me away?” William asked. 

“Well you'll have to go back home.” his mother replied, before asking the police officers if she could have a few moments alone with her son. One went into the lounge with Vicky, the other stepped outside the back door making sure both exits were covered. William and his mother talked for a good hour. He told her how much he missed her, how much he disliked Beverly, especially when his dad's away on business, which these days is most of the time. His mother tells him how much she misses him and wishes she could see him more often, but the distance and other circumstances make it almost impossible. 

“Dad keeps saying he'll bring me to see you when he has the time but... since he got promoted he never has any time.” William frowned. “...and Beverly refuses to move any closer.”

“I can't believe you disguised yourself as a girl to come and see me.” his mother said, tucking his bobbed hair over his ear. “You look quite cute but... I think I prefer you as a boy.”

“So do I!” William replied. “This is just so the police didn't recognise me before we got here.” he said. “Vicky cut my hair... it was just a mess beforehand.” he added.

“Well she's done a very good job... but next time I hope to see you with short back and sides.”

“I promise.” William replied. “It's been fun but I don't want to dress like a girl ever again.”

DS Barton entered the dining room. “We're going to have to take him to the station.” he said. “You can come with him.” he added. 

In the lounge, William gasped to see Vicky in handcuffs. “You can't arrest her! She's done nothing wrong.” he insisted.

“Miss Sterling is being taken in for questioning young lady... I mean... laddie.” the DS bashfully and awkwardly corrected himself. 

“What for?” William asked.

“Aiding and abetting a fugitive.” the DS smugly replied.

“I'm not a fugitive. I ran away and Vicky helped me find my Mum!”

“Aiding and abetting a runaway then.” the DS retorted.

“Is that even a thing?” William’s mother snarled. “You're just clutching at straws... you know she's done nothing wrong yet you're treating her as a criminal!”

“She dressed your son as a girl Ma'am... isn't that enough?”

“That's not a crime... and she did it with the best of intentions.” William's mother said as Vicky was bustled outside by DC Howe.

By this time, a police carrier van had pulled up outside, along with a marked police car. Vicky was put in the back of the van and William and his mother were invited into the marked car. Several neighbours and passers-by had stopped to see the commotion. DC Howe handed William's mother the pink backpack, before shutting the door and banging on the roof. The car departed. “They can't arrest Vicky Mum.” William said as he peered out of the rear window. 

“They just want to ask her some questions.” his mother replied, hugging her son. “She'll be fine.”

“I hope so. She's nice.”

“Yes she seems very nice.” William's mother concurred. 

William didn't initially see Vicky at the police station, but was questioned about her. Heeding her advice, he told the truth; she'd picked him up hitch-hiking early this morning and he lied about his name and destination. When the missing person report came over the radio, Vicky instantly realised it was him. “She said she'd take me to the police but I begged her not to. I just wanted to see my Mum but Vicky wouldn't let me hitch-hike and didn't want me getting the train alone either... so she brought me down here.” William told the police officer. “She even paid for my train ticket.” he added. “She was just trying to look after me, and make sure I got to see my Mum.” he told them, looking up at his mother.

“And it was Vicky who dressed you as a girl, put make-up on you and cut your hair?” the police officer asked. 

“Yes.” William said. “I didn't want to at first, but I knew there'd be police at the train stations and they'd probably have my description... so it was the only way to get all the way from Oakford without being recognised.”

“Well I certainly wouldn't have recognised you.” the police officer said.

“I did. The moment I saw him.” William's mother stated.

Once the police officer was satisfied with William's version of events and had checked all her notes and double checked any ambiguities in his statement, William and his mother were asked to return to the waiting area. Much to both their surprise, Beverly was sat waiting when they exited the interview room. “Did you put him up to this?!” Beverly scowled at his mother. 

“Of course I didn't!” William's mother retorted. “You barely let me speak to my son, let alone collude with him.”

“And why's he dressed like that?!” Beverly barked.

“It's a disguise.” William snarled. “To make sure I spent as much time away from you as possible.” he smugly sneered.

“Does he have his own clothes in that bag?” Beverly growled, glaring at the pink backpack he held. William's mother shook her head. “Hmm.” Beverly frowned. “I suppose you expect me to buy you some.” she exclaimed. William skewed his jaw.

“I'll buy him some.” his mother said. 

“There's no need.” Beverly said. “I'll be taking him home as soon as the police have finished with him.”

“They've already finished with him as far as I know.” William's mother retorted. 

“Then I'll take him now!” Beverly spat.

“No!” William whined.

“You'll have to go.” his mother told him

“Can I see Vicky before I go?” William asked. 

“Who's Vicky?!” Beverly barked.

“The lady who helped me.” William said. 

“I'm not sure.” his mother said. “I'll ask.”

“I'LL ASK!” Beverly insisted, loudly reminding all within earshot that she's the boy's legal guardian. She spoke to the desk sergeant before turning to William and saying “No you may not!”

“Do you have to speak to him like that?!” William’s mother asked. 

“After all he's put me through the last few days, yes!” Beverly retorted. “Now come on William. I'm taking you home!” she said, practically snatching the boy out of his mother's arms. She marched out of the police station clutching William by the arm and put him in the back of her car. William fought back his tears whilst his step-mother thumped the sat-nav. “Six and a half hours!” she growled. “We'll be lucky to be home by midnight.” she spat. The boy remained silent until she turned to him and barked “Haven't you got anything to say for yourself?!”

“I'm sorry... I just wanted to see my mum!” he said. “You wouldn't let me visit her and Dad kept putting it off so the only way was to go myself.”

“And you were so desperate you disguised yourself as a girl!”

“This just happened.” William said, looking down at his dress. “I didn't plan it but when my description came on the radio... I didn't have much choice.” he told her. “Will you get me some boy's clothes?” he asked, adding “Please.”

“Well I don't see why I should.” she snarled. “Who cut your hair?”

“Vicky.”

“That's the woman who took you to your mother's instead of doing the right thing and taking you to the nearest police station?”

William nodded. “She was only trying to help me.” he muttered.

“Well I hope they throw the book at her!”

“She's done nothing wrong.”

“Oh you think so do you?!”

“Yes!” William retorted.

They drove in silence for a while, heading towards London. Beverly began making hands free calls, trying to book a room in a Travelodge or Premier Inn on the outskirts of the city. Many were fully booked, or only had double rooms available, or were far too expensive at short notice. Eventually the receptionist on the other end of a call said they've got a double room with a day bed available, adding that the daybed is fine for children but not adults. “That should be fine.” Beverly replied. “Dnd do you provide a baby sitting service?”

“We do.”

“Wonderful.” Beverly replied, before giving her card details over the phone and programming the sat-nav to the location.

“I don't need a babysitter.” William snarled. 

“You need an armed guard.” Beverly retorted. It was the first vaguely light hearted thing she'd said all day. The hotel is on the north side of the M25 in a former Georgian mansion. A valet takes the car and William sheepishly follows his stepmother into the foyer. The friendly receptionist smiles and asks if he's her daughter. “He's my stepson.” Beverly bluntly retorted. “...and he's in an awful lot of a trouble.” she added.

“I see.” the receptionist replied. William hung his head. 

“He's not to leave the room under any circumstances so can you make the staff aware that if he's found wondering the corridors or grounds, to bring him straight back to the room.” Beverly requested

“I'll make sure they know.” the receptionist added.

“Thank you.” Beverly smiled. “Come along William!” she instructed. William glanced at the receptionist who smiled empathetically down on him. 

They took the lift up to the 2nd floor and despite the hotel being clearly quite posh, the room is rather modest with a double bed on one wall, a built in dresser, chest and wardrobe opposite, and in the corner by the tall window sits a steel framed sofa. “Where am I sleeping?” William asked.

“On the day bed.” Beverly said, nodding toward the sofa.

“Can I watch TV?”

“Absolutely not!” she snapped. “You can sit and think about your behaviour.”

William sat on the settee, scooping his frock beneath him and smoothing the skirt over his lap. He looked from one side of the settee to the other. “It's not going to be long enough to sleep on.” he said. 

“You spent last night in a barn, did you not?” Beverly replied. “This is the lap of luxury in comparison.” she said, removing her laptop and plugging it in. “Now please don't disturb me as I've got work to do.” she snarled. “Just sit quietly and don't fidget.”

William did sit quietly and tried not to fidget. Beverly tapped away on her laptop and made the occasional phone call. With nothing more to occupy him than his meandering thoughts and the sound of his stepmother's nails tapping on the keyboard and her occasional murmurings, time passed very slowly for William. Beverly called reception and asked if some food could be brought to the room. She didn't ask if William wanted a cheese sandwich and a carton of apple juice, but ordered them for him regardless. “...and what time is the restaurant open?” she enquired. “Five 'til nine... OK... could I book a babysitter for around 6pm?”

“I don't need a babysitter.” William whined. Beverly glared at the boy for interrupting her conversation, before completing the conversation and hanging up. “I don't need a baby sitter.” William repeated, huffing is if to punctuate his statement.

“Well I'm not going to leave you on your own after the way you've acted this last few days.”

“Where am I going to go?” he sighed. “I don't even know where we are, plus I'm wearing a dress!”

“I'm not taking any chances with you, young man. And lets not forget that wearing a dress didn't stop you from travelling from one end of the country to the other.” his stepmother replied. 

“Can you get me some boys clothes?” he meekly asked. “Please.” he added in a humble, pleaful tone.

Beverly was planning on doing just that but her disdain was so great she didn't feel inclined to show the boy any favour whatsoever. “I don't see why I should!” she snarled. “You've already cost me a small fortune.” she stated. “I had to fly down here, hire a car and now we're going to have to get a hotel for the night...” she paused and glared at him via the rear view mirror. “...and who's to say that you won't run off again the moment my back's turned?”

“I won't.” William said. Beverly raised an eyebrow and returned her attention to her laptop. William slumped his shoulders to express his disapproval, but wasn't at all surprised by his treatment. After all he did runaway from home and knew full well he'd be in trouble for doing so. A good half an hour passed before room service arrived with some food for him. Beverly made him sit at the dressing table to eat, facing his reflection. Other than seeing himself reflected in windows, this is the first mirror he's really encountered. The pale pink cardigan looks ever so prissy with its single button holding the collar together. His broad round collar lays on top of it and is trimmed with a little lace. His new hair cut looks very girlie and despite him wearing a little bit of make-up, his familiar face looks just as boyish as it always has. The bubble has burst. He's a boy in a dress and he knows it.

“Are you going to eat that sandwich or just gorp at yourself?” Beverly growled, prompting William to eat. 

Afterwards she sent him back to the sofa where he sat and stewed until around 6pm when there was a knock on the door. Beverly answered. “Babysitter.” a female voice stated. 

“Oh, come in.” Beverly said. “Here he is... don't mind his dress... it's a long story.” she told the babysitter. One would assume she's one of the chambermaids or cleaners; dressed in a jet black frock and crisp white apron. In a friendly tone, she asked his name.

“William.” he frowned. 

“He's not to leave the room under any circumstances, and don't let him use the phone or my laptop.” Beverly instructed. “I've forbid him from watching TV but whilst you're in charge, I'll leave that up to you.” she added. “I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.”

“Very well Ma'am.” the babysitter said, dropping a slight curtsey. 

“Where are you going?!” William scowled.

“Never you mind.” Beverly retorted before turning on her heel. 

The babysitter was somewhat taken aback by the woman's attitude towards the child. She turned to face William and smiled empathetically. “Well you're a little bit older than the children I usually sit for.” she told him.

“I told her I'm too old for a babysitter.” he mournfully replied.

“Well like it or not, you've got one.” she said. “What's with the dress?”

“I ran away from home.” he replied. 

“Ah... so that's why she's so blunt with you?” the babysitter said, before asking once more about his attire.

“I disguised myself as a girl because the police were looking for a boy.” he replied. “I was all over the TV, apparently.”

“Oh... the boy from up north? That's you?!” she realised. William nodded. “The news said you'd been found safe and sound but it didn't say you were dressed as a girl.” she told him. “You look cute. I like your hair.”

Nervously he thumbed the ends. “The sooner I can get it cut the better.” he muttered. “Beverly could have got me some boy clothes but I think she's leaving me dressed like this 'til I get home to punish me.”

“I can think of worse punishments.” the babysitter said.

“I’ll probably be grounded for the rest of my life.” William added.

“Prob'ly.” she said. “So... why did you run away?”

“To see my Mum. My stepmother won't let me see her and my Dad never has the time to take me coz he's always away with work.”

“Where does he work?”

“All over. Dubai, Singapore, Buenos Aires, Houston, Hong Kong...”

“How exciting!”

“Not really. I'd prefer it if he was at home.”

“What does he do?” she asked. William replied as best he could, describing his dad as some sort of business analyst for a financial consultancy. “Yeah, you're right, that doesn't sound in the least bit exciting.” the babysitter said. “How old are you?” she quizzed.

“Twelve.” he told her. 

“It's a bit risky running away at your age. There's some real weirdos about.”

“My stepmother's one of 'em.”

“I’m sure she has your best interests at heart... even if you can't see it.”

“She has her own interests at heart and no one else's.” William replied. “I wish I could stay with my actual Mum.”

“Why can't you?” the babysitter asked. 

William explained about the breakdown she suffered when his dad left her, but said she's a lot better now. “It's just a lot of paperwork and discussions needed to overturn the custody ruling... and my dad's away with work all the time so nothing's getting done, which means I'm stuck with Beverly.”

“Oh you poor thing.” she said. “Do you wanna watch some TV?”

“OK.” William apathetically replied.

He flicked through the channels, past the soaps and re-runs of Top Gear until something interesting appeared, and spent a while enjoying that. The babysitter spent most of her time reading a book and was dismissed the moment Beverly returned. “That's enough of that!” Beverly spat as she turned the TV off. “You may as well get in the shower then get ready for bed.” she said.

“OK.” William said. He really needed a shower.

“And make sure you leave the door wide open.” Beverly insisted. “I don't want you escaping through the air ducts.” she somewhat jovially added. To William, it seemed that his stepmother's mood had eased somewhat.

However whilst he was in the shower, Beverly scooped up the clothes he'd worn forcing him to wear only a small hand towel when he exited the en-suite. “I'm not wearing those!” he whined, seeing a pair of girl's pyjamas laid on the day bed.

“You've been wearing a dress all day.” Beverly spat, before suggesting that he might have preferred a nightdress instead. Reluctantly, William donned the pyjamas and Beverly sat him at the dresser where she proceeded to vigorously dry his hair with the towel. William whined that she was being too rough. “Stop being such a girl!” Beverly snarled. “You can't go bed with damp hair.” she stated, claiming he'd catch a cold. William sat and sulked and stared at his reflection whilst Beverly rigorously dried his hair. He hated the fact that she'd got him a pair of girls flowery pyjamas instead of boys ones. “Was this Vicky woman a hairdresser?” she asked as she combed it. 

“No. She's a farmer.” William replied. 

“Well she's done a good job of your hair... if you were a girl it'd be a lovely haircut.” she said. “But since you're just a boy...”

“What?”

“Well ...you look ridiculous.” she snarled. At least when he was with Vicky dressing like a girl felt like an adventure, now he just can't wait to be himself again. Beverly removed the surplus cushions from the day bed and pulled its duvet open. Since William had spent the previous night camping in a barn and woke at the crack of dawn, an early night tonight is just what he needed. The boy was soon in a deep sleep.

William woke early, but not quite so early as he had the previous day. The curtains are wide open. The sun is relatively high and Beverly is sat on the bed, tapping away at her laptop. “Sleep well?” she asked, somewhat bluntly.

“Yes.” William replied, somewhat mournfully. In his slumber he was oblivious to the fact that he'd slept wearing girl's pyjamas. His eyes dropped to the pink floral pattern and he sighed. The cherry print dress and pink cardigan he'd worn yesterday hung from the wardrobe door. “Do I have to wear that again?” he humbly asked.

“What do you think?!” Beverly bluntly retorted, not looking up. “You need to shower before breakfast.” she added, still tapping on the keyboard. “Then you and I need head back home.” she said. “And don't be surprised when I tell you that you're grounded for the rest of the school holidays.”

It could have been worse, William thought. There's only a fortnight left 'til the next term begins and last time he was grounded, for something far less serious than running away from home, he was grounded for a month. But Beverly is so strict in curtailing his movements; seldom letting him visit his friends and never allowing them to visit him, there's not a great deal of difference between being grounded and not being grounded. “When's Dad coming home?” William asked.

“Not for a good few weeks yet.” she told him. “And before you think I'll have forgotten all about this episode by the time he gets back, I won't have.” she added. 

William took his time in the shower. He wasn't looking forward to going home, mostly because all he has is the dress Vicky had given him which today doesn't seem at all adventurous. He exited with a towel wrapped around his waist since Beverly had scooped up the pyjamas the moment he'd stepped out of them. His dress wasn't on the hanger nor was it laid on the bed waiting. “Where's my dress?” he whined.

“You don't really think I’d make you wear that again did you?” she said, revealing an Asda carrier bag. William breathed a big sigh of relief. His belief that the bag contained some boys clothes was so strong that he thanked his stepmother before she removed the contents

“I can't wear that!” he gasped when she removed a prissy yellow dress with short puffed sleeves and frilly trim

“Of course you can.” Beverly bluntly replied.

“But...” he gulped again. “I thought...” he paused. “...I thought you'd got me some boy's clothes.”

“Oh I'm sure you did. You're a spoilt little brat who thinks everything will just land on your lap.” Beverly growled. “I fully intended getting you some boys clothes when I left you with the babysitter last night... but then I thought, he's made his bed, he can damn well lie in it!” she told her stepson. “And I bought you this instead.” she added, laying the dress on the bed.

“I'd rather wear the one Vicky gave me than that!” he snarled.

“Oh I'm sure you would. But that was an old dress destined for a charity shop and you deserve better than that. ” she told him. “You'll need these first.” she told him, revealing a pair of knickers with frilly lace trim. “And I got you a little training bra too.” she added, showing him a matching bra.

“I'm not wearing those!”

“You don't have much choice young man.” she smugly replied. “You can hardly leave the hotel wearing a towel, can you?”

“I'll wear what I wore yesterday!” he stated, glancing around for it.

“I gave those to the chambermaid and her to put them in the bin.”

“I'll wear them pyjamas then!”

“Oh no you won't young man.” she told him. “You'll wear these.” she said, smiling wryly at the clothes on the bed

“Why are you doing this?!” William whined, tightening his grip on the towel around him.

“Because I can.” she stated. “If it's any consolation... you arrived wearing a dress. No one’s going to think any less of you if you leave wearing a dress as well.”

Knowing he had no choice, William reluctantly took the knickers and in the privacy of the en-suit bathroom, he donned them. His cheeks were crimson when he revealed himself; his hands shyly concealing his frilly panties. “Please don't make me wear that.” he tearfully whined as Beverly held the bra for him to slip his hands into.

“You can't put your dress on until you've got your bra on.” Beverly told him. “And I very much doubt you want to travel home wearing just a pair of knickers.” she told him. William gulped and glanced toward the dressing table mirror, in which he got a glimpse of the rows of white frills that run across the back of his panties. Hesitantly, he held out his arms and Beverly slid the bra over them. “Turn around.” she instructed. William had no choice but to glare at his reflection as the bra was fastened around him. Once that was on, the dress couldn't come quickly enough. 

“It's too short.” he whined. 

“It's a sun dress. It's supposed to be short.” Beverly told him. “Sit down and put these on.” she said, handing him a pair of thin ankle socks with frilly cuffs. William huffed as he pulled the girlie socks on. 

“I can't wear those!” he exclaimed, seeing the shoes she'd also got for him.

“They're only little heels.” she told him. 

“What's wrong with the shoes I had yesterday?”

“They're in the bin along with everything else you wore yesterday.” she retorted. “These will be fine providing you're careful and don't try to run in them.”

“I'm not gonna run away again.” he told her. 

“And I'm not going to take any chances.” Beverly replied as she fastened the small shiny buckles. “There.” she said, standing and grabbing her small trolley case. “Come along.” 

The boy stuck out his lip and hesitantly made his way toward the open door, briefly glancing at his reflection as he passed a full length mirror. The dress looks even shorter and he looks even more ridiculous than he'd imagined.

William was so embarrassed as he loitered in the foyer whilst Beverly checked out of the hotel. His attention was drawn by an opening door. He turned to see the babysitter emerge pushing a linen trolley. “Hello William!” she smiled. “What a lovely dress.” she said. “Very summery.” she added.

He was too embarrassed to respond. Surely she was just trying to be nice, but no one could seriously think that such an infantile dress on a twelve year old was lovely, especially with it being so uncomfortably short. With that thought, William realised she was teasing him as she disappeared through another door, giving William once final glance as she left. Beverly seemed to prolong his wait making small talk with the receptionist but after far too many minutes, they were finally making their exit. William walked awkwardly in the heels toward the revolving door and once outside, the breeze instantly caught his frock and revealed his frilly panties to anyone who might have been looking. “It's too short.” he whined, grabbing it.

“Oh stop complaining William. You're the one who wanted to wear a dress in the first place.”

“No I didn't!” he insisted. His step mother raised an eyebrow. “Not today anyway.” he sheepishly added as the valet delivered the car.

“In you get. And put your seatbelt on.” Beverly instructed. Even when seated, the dress barely covered William's lap. Beverly got in the driver's seat and fasted her seat belt. “Now I don't want to hear a peep out of you until we get home.” she told him.

“How long's that gonna take.”

“All day.” she retorted.

“What about breakfast?” he whined. “I'm hungry.”

“We'll stop off at a café or somewhere when I'm hungry!” Beverly retorted. 

Within minutes they were back on the busy M25. William sighed and peered out of the window, then gulped and looked down at his bright yellow dress and long thin legs. He kicked out his feet and sneered at his frilly ankle socks and the shoes strapped to his feet. “What have I got myself into?” he wondered.

Before long they were headed north up the M1 and Beverly began making phone calls; some were work related but one one was to the Molly, the housekeeper. Beverly spoke hands free but listened via a bluetooth earpiece, so William could only hear one half of the conversation. “I'm bringing him back now.” Beverly said, adding that it'll be tea-time or early evening when they finally arrive. “Can you get James [the grounds keeper] to put a lock on William's bedroom door... and tell him to make sure it's a substantial one, the sort he uses on the outhouses.” she requested. “I'm going to move him into the corner room, so that needs clearing out and preparing.” Beverly instructed. 

The corner room is a small bedroom that's used for storage. William has seldom seen inside it but he knows it's a lot smaller than his own bedroom, and being situated at the corner of the house, has two windows; one facing east and the other facing south. “No!” Beverly snapped. “Save for the furniture, I want nothing in that room.” she stated.

“What are you doing?” William asked when the call ended. “Why are you putting a lock on my bedroom door?”

“Because your bedroom and everything in it is out of bounds from now on young man.” Beverly told him. “...and when I say everything, I mean everything.” she added. “...and that includes your clothes.”

“What am I supposed to wear?!”

“You've got a lovely new dress.” she bluntly stated. “That'll do you for now.”

William gulped. “But I can't dress like a girl all the time!”

“Oh but you can my dear boy.” she confidently told him.

When they finally arrived back at their sizeable home in the early evening, Molly the housekeeper opened the door to greet them. Her smile disappeared the moment the boy got out of the car. “William?” she quizzed. He skewed his jaw and frowned.

“Miss William is probably more appropriate form of address.” Beverly sneered as she scowled at him. 

Molly replied with a nervous chuckle before telling William to go indoors “...we'll get you changed out of those clothes.” she said.

“We'll do nothing of the sort!” Beverly retorted. “William thought he was being clever by disguising himself as a girl in order to evade the police.” she said. “Let's see how he likes living as one!”

“No!” William snarled. He ran inside, his heels clacked loudly on the hallway floor. The boy headed directly to his bedroom but found a substantial hasp and staple and big padlock securing the door. He was trying and failing to rattle the door open when Beverly and Molly caught up with him.

“Has the corner room been cleared and cleaned, Molly?” Beverly asked. Molly said it had. “You have a new bedroom... Miss William.” Beverly said to the boy, emphasising the miss and causing him to cringe. “This way.” she chirped.

William gulped and followed. The corner room is located at the corner of the house and has two windows in the corner; one facing west and the other facing south. It's a light bright room but it's small. A single bed occupies a third of the floorspace. A wardrobe and chest of drawers reside along the one long wall. In the corner where the windows meet sits an ornate dressing table and the sedate floral wall paper and pale pink curtains give the room a distinctly feminine ambience. “It's like a girl's room.” William grimaces when he enters. 

“Then it's perfect for you.” Beverly replied. “Molly will make your bed up.” she added. 

William's stepmother and the housekeeper left him alone in his new bedroom. In the dressing table mirror he glimpsed his reflection. Wearing a dress so short and so yellow, William felt like he was dressed as a daffodil. He couldn't help but lift it a little to glimpse his knickers. The frilly lace around the legs is particularly offensive to him. Had he been wearing a longer dress he'd take them off but this one is too short. He let go of the hem, sat on the mattress and with a heavy sigh, William cursed himself for letting Vicky talk him into dressing as a girl in the first place.

He sulked and stared at his pale thin legs, following them to his feet. He tried to imagine why girls actually like wearing this stuff as he glared it the horrific frills on his ankle socks... and the shoes! To William they just look senseless. They don't even cover the foot properly, only having a bit for his toes to go into and another bit cupping his heel, and a strap across the instep to hold them on. The heel is small but significant, although when walking in them, William didn't really notice them. He was more worried about his incredibly short dress and his frilly knickers than the heels on his shoes. 

He considered the outfit Vicky had put him in; the blue cherry print dress with blue dolly shoes, pink tights and a pink cardigan. It was girlie but not so bad and definitely better than this, he thought. Molly the housekeeper returned, clutching a bundle of bedding. “Out the way Miss William so I can...”

“Stop calling me that. I'm not a girl!” William insisted. 

“I know you're not.” Molly replied. “But your stepmother gave me explicit instructions to address you as 'miss' William... and it's she who pays my wages, not you... so if you don't mind, Miss William... I need to make your bed.”

“But she's not here. She can't hear you.”

“And I’m not taking any chances Miss William.” Molly said. 

William sighed and stood aside. Molly plonked the bundle of bedding on the mattress and began unfolding the sheets. “Sounds like you've had quite the adventure.” she casually said as he perched nervously on the stool by the dresser, making sure his super short dress covered as much of his lap as possible.

William sighed. “I just wanted to see my mum.” he muttered.

“So much so you disguised yourself as a girl.” Molly added. William nodded. “Was it worth it?” Molly asked.

“It was nice seeing my Mum... even if it was only for an hour or two.” he replied. “And Vicky... the lady who helped me was awesome.” he said. “The disguise was her idea.” he added. “But now Beverly's saying I have to dress like a girl all the time...” he sighed and gulped. 

“Well I'm sure it won't be forever.” Molly said. “And at least you're not built like Biff Tannen.”

“Who's Biff Tannen?” William asked. 

“The bully from Back to the Future.” Molly replied. “Like it or not... you do look quite nice as a girl.”

“I'm not a girl.” William asserted. 

“So you keep saying... but since you decided to run away and disguise yourself as a girl, your stepmother has decided that the most fitting punishment is that you dress as a girl until she decides otherwise.” Molly reminded him. “...and James and I have been instructed to only address you as 'miss' William, so as much as it pains me to say it, Miss William... you're going to have to get used to dressing like a girl.”

“Dad'll put a stop to it when he comes home.” William said.

“Let's hope so. But you've got a good four weeks between now and then so...” Molly shrugged. She left for a moment and returned with a duvet and some pillows. “You can help by putting your pillow cases on.” she suggested, unfolding a pale blue duvet cover.

“I'm not sleeping under that!” William exclaimed seeing a huge Cinderella print on the duvet cover.

“You don't have much choice Miss William.” Molly told him. “Best bet is to put up and shut up for the time being... then things might go back to normal sooner rather than later.” she advised.

“I only thought I'd be dressed as a girl for one day... and that was only so the police didn't recognise me.” William muttered as he stuffed the pillows into their cases. “I wish I'd changed back into my own clothes before Beverly saw me.”

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing... but it always comes too late.” Molly said the boy. “Why didn't you?”

“I left them in Vicky's car.” he said. “Could you go into my bedroom and get me some?!” William suggested.

“Some what?” Molly replied. “Clothes?” she presumed. “Absolutely not Miss William.” she stated. “I'd be dismissed.” she claimed.

“But... that means all I've got is this.” he whined, grabbing at his dress.

“Careful!” Molly said. “I saw your knickers then!” she told him.

William skewed his jaw and slumped his shoulders. Molly threw the duvet over the mattress and smoothed it out, before putting the pillows in position. With his bed made, Molly went about her duties and William sat sulking in his new bedroom. He peered through the windows where the shadows of the trees stretched far and long. After a while he cautiously left the corner room and crept along the hallway, checking the lock on his bedroom door which was indeed, very secure. Stepping as lightly as he could in his heeled shoes, he descended the stairs and overheard Beverly speaking to someone on the telephone. He eavesdropped for a moment. “I'll keep you posted, but he's grounded for the time being.” his stepmother said before hanging up. “I can hear you creeping about!” she said. 

Bashfully, William revealed himself. “Sorry.” he murmured.

“No need to apologise. You're not confined to your room.” his step mother said. “You can go outside if you want, providing you don't leave the grounds.” she added.

“I don't want to go out dressed like this.” he muttered. 

“Well you'll have to at some point.” she told him. “That was your mother on the phone.” she told him. William's face brightened in an instant. “She wanted you to know that Vicky has been released without charge...”

“Oh good!” William said. 

“...and the money she spent taking you to Gallopton will be repaid from your allowance.” Beverly added.

“OK.” William replied. 

“And that includes both your train ticket and Vicky's, as well as her return fare.” she told him. “So that's around two-hundred and thirty pounds.” she said. “How long do you think it will take to repay that?” she asked. 

“Twenty three weeks.” William replied. 

“Yes.” his step mother replied. “Pretty much between now and the new year.” she informed him. “I've spoken to your father and he agrees that it's only fair that your punishment last at least as long as the repayment period.”

“You mean... I have to dress like a girl for the rest of the year?!” William gasped.

“Yes.” Beverly replied, smiling wryly. “So you'd best get used to your frilly knickers and prissy little dress, Miss William.”

“But...!”

“But nothing!” she snapped. “Had you not disguised yourself as a girl in order to evade the police, dressing you as a girl to punish you would never have crossed my mind... so you've only got yourself to blame, young man.” she smugly informed him.