Lee and Leanne were twins, but as a young baby, Leanne dies, leaving her twin with the firm belief that part of her remained with him for always.

As Lee grew in an unhappy home, struggling with a gender identity problem, events occurred that enabled Leanne to come alive again, in more ways than one.

Leanne got a job in a classy cocktail bar, called Badger's, that turned away hundreds for every one that was accepted.

She was a unique girl...

in more ways than one!

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: Badger's Set  © 2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 3
 
 
The funeral was a dismal affair. I was dressed ambiguously, but wore female attire underneath a dark shirt, black trousers and a black leather coat. I wore no jewellery or makeup, and was one of only six people who turned up. I didn’t know many of them.

The family solicitor called and I went for a meeting with him. They had left an estate comprising of the house and about  £60,000 in savings. The house was worth about  £120,000, so that meant that inheritance tax was not a problem.

“Your half brother and sisters receive  £15,000 each, held in trust until they reach the age of twenty one. Your mother gets your grandmother’s jewellery, and you get the house and contents. Is your mother returning to the UK?”

“I doubt it,” I said, and he nodded.

“Then if you bring the jewellery into the office, I will arrange it to be sent to her. As for the house, I have the deeds here. I will arrange transfer of name.

“Mr Cowper, can you simply leave my name as L.R Roberts. No mister, or first names?”

He frowned.

“May I ask why?”

This was it, - the moment of truth. I needed to tell someone, and I was intelligent enough to realise that I may need legal advice at some point in the future.

“Mr Cowper, the truth is that I’m a transsexual. I hope to undergo a sex change in the next couple of years, I think that it might make things simpler.”

He stared at me.

I felt uncomfortable. I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

“That should be no problem. What names are you planning to use?”

“Leanne Rachel.”

He nodded, and smiled slightly.

“That explains a lot,” he said.

“I’m sorry?”

“When you first walked in, even though you are not dressed as a girl, I actually thought you were a girl. Even your voice is feminine. I take it you are already on hormones?”

“A low dose, yes.”

“Don’t worry. A dear friend of my wife’s went through this a few years ago. No one could ever tell now, and she is very happy indeed. She is still living with her ex-wife, so it is all very strange.”

I smiled, nervous, but relieved to have finally told someone.
 
 
I went back to my house and stripped off the clothes I was wearing. I put on a skirt and top, and started to clear out everything that I didn’t want.

It was a long job and it took me a week. I lived as Leanne for the whole time, and began to realise that I felt so much better. I can’t really explain it, but it was as if I was suddenly freed to be the person I should always have been.

To go shopping, even for essentials like toilet rolls and food, was a whole, new wonderful experience. After my initial worries that I would be outed, I became confident and relaxed completely. People called me ‘Miss’ or ‘love’, and I settled down as Leanne.

I took the jewellery into the lawyer, having retained one very pretty diamond ring first. It had been grandma’s engagement ring, and she had it on when she died. I planned telling anyone that I forgot it, as it was in the envelope. I slipped it onto my left ring finger, wondering what it would be like being engaged to a boy.

I immediately thought of Adam.

I wondered what he was doing. I rang Josh’s number he had given me. Someone else answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may I speak to Adam please?”

“Um, he’s not here right now. Who’s after him?”

“Can you tell him that Leanne called. Do you know where he is?”

“Ah, so you’re the mysterious Leanne? I’m Josh, his mate. He went on and on about this great girl he met at Bedford. He’s up in London somewhere with the gang. I was working, so couldn’t go. They should be back later, but I doubt whether they’ll be in any fit state.”

“Can you tell him my grandparents died and, well, just tell him that. Okay?”

“Sure, look, are you okay?”

“Not really, but, hey, shit happens, right?”

He laughed, not through the humour of life, but through the realities.

“Yeah, I suppose. Look, Leanne, do you want to come and wait here for him? You are more than welcome.”

“No thanks. He has my address and phone number. I’d like to hear from him at some point. G’bye.”

I suddenly felt very lonely. I had called my only friend. Jessica was half way round the world, so my only friend was someone I had met once. Now was that sad or what?

I made a decision and picked up the phone again, calling the doctors’ surgery. I’d selected this one because they were listed on a TG website, so they were sympathetic to those wanting to transition.
 
 
Two hours later I was called into see Dr Michaels.

He frowned as he saw me. He looked at my notes and then at me. I was wearing a dress, high heel shoes and makeup, feeling very comfortable in my female persona.

“There seems to be some mistake, Miss. I have notes for a Lee Roberts.”

“I am Lee Roberts. Only I use the name Leanne, now.”

“Ah. That explains the reason for the appointment.”

He smiled and invited me to sit down.

I went through everything, including the hormones I had acquired through the Internet. He was non-judgemental, very kind, but quite clear about what I had done.

“That is potentially very dangerous,” he said. “One can never be sure of what one is buying or the damage it could do.”

“I appreciate that. But I had to do something.”

He was surprisingly sympathetic, and gave me a very thorough examination. He smiled slightly as he saw the breast forms firmly attached to my chest, and the shape form knickers.

Once dressed again and seated opposite him, he looked straight into my eyes and smiled.

“Leanne, I have to be honest. The hormones you have taken have indeed arrested your masculine development. They probably have also chemically castrated you. When was the last time you had an erection?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know, I can’t remember.”

“How about ejaculation?”

“The same.”

“Any discomfort or seepage?”

“No.”

“Any pains anywhere else?”

“No.”

“Okay. I am going to change your prescription. The hormones I will put you on will start physical changes quite quickly. You will begin to develop breasts and fat deposits will start accumulating on your hips. You are very slender, so I advise you to keep to a healthy diet, and to take regular exercise. Hormones can induce an increase in weight if you are not very careful.

“They will also continue to block any masculine development, but actually, I don’t believe you are capable of much. One thing, you may find sudden mood swings with these pills. Just as if you were a genetic female with a menstrual cycle, so don’t get too worried. If they get too extreme, then come back and see me. I am referring you to a psychologist, as there have to be certain conditions before we begin to look at surgical options.”

I smiled, and he shook his head.

“Leanne, this path is irreversible. It isn’t something to be entered into lightly. We all need to be sure that this is right.”

“I’m sure. I’ve been sure since I was about six or seven. Only I never really understood what was the matter with me,” I told him.

“There are ways of bypassing the system, but I don’t necessarily recommend them.”

“You mean, by going private?” I asked, and he nodded.

“There are various options, both here and overseas, that offer complete SRS. However, I would not recommend them at this stage.”

“I’m about to go to university, I can’t afford the  £50,000 for that.”

“I understand. But perhaps you may wish to think about minor surgery, just to make things easier.”

“Like what?”

“Some transsexuals elect minor cosmetic surgery on the face and neck. Most elect some breast enhancement and, for example, if the nose is a little large, some cosmetic surgery there. However, you are sufficiently feminine not to worry about that.”

“Is my nose too big?” I asked, concerned now.

He smiled.

“I was speaking generally. The surgeon I am referring you to works both for the NHS and privately. I understand your financial constraints, so recommend you talk to him with an open mind and with his NHS hat on. He will advise you on what would be appropriate, so don’t be afraid to ask for what you think you need to be a happy and more secure person. Don’t mention to the psychologist that private treatment is even a whisper, as they can become difficult if you force the pace in any way. You need an assessment before any surgery can take place.”
 
 
I left the doctor feeling much better. I went straight round to the chemist and waited for them to make up the prescription. The girl behind the counter gave me some funny looks, and I kept examining my nose in the mirror next to the makeup counter.

I couldn’t wait to get home, so I could start the hormones. I stared at myself, willing my breasts to grow.

I piled the black bags containing all my grandparent’s clothes by the front door. The doorbell rang and I opened it expecting the collector for the charity I had called.

It was Adam.

“Hi,” he said.

“You!”

“I was the last time I looked.”

I flung my arms round his neck and hugged him, bursting into tears.

“Hey, shit, Leanne, are you okay?” he said, obviously a little surprised at my welcome.

“No, I’m fucking well not. I’m so fucking miserable and alone that I need someone!” I heard myself say through the sobs.

He took me indoors and sat me on the sofa.

“Hey, come on Leanne. It’s okay now. Really, it’s okay.”

The doorbell rang again.

“The black bags, they’re here for the black bags,” I said.

“Okay, stay here, I’ll deal with it.”

I sat there, trying to compose myself. Why did I react like this? I felt so stupid and weak. What must he think of me?

He came back in and looked down at me. I looked up and saw such a tender expression on his face that I almost started crying again.

He sat next to me, putting one arm across my shoulders.

“Okay, tell me about it?”

I did. It all poured out, or most of it. I couldn’t tell him I was a boy, could I? I told him about the deaths, my mother, Frank, and everything else that caused me grief, except the one thing that really mattered. I wanted to tell him, really I did!

I finished and felt empty. I was snuggled under his arm, sniffling.

He kissed my forehead.

“Better?”

Strangely enough, I did feel a bit better.

I nodded.

“Good, now go upstairs, wash your face, do what you girls do to make yourself look desirable. I’m taking you out for a meal, okay?”

I nodded and went up and washed the streaky makeup off my face. I locked the hormones away in my bedside drawer. I felt much better as I reapplied my make up.

He took me to a Pizza Hut. Not the most romantic venue, but just what the doctor ordered. We stayed for ages, just chatting and eating too much. We were both drinking beer from the bottle, and for the first time I found myself relating to someone other than Jessica.

He held my hand on the bus back to the house, and I suddenly started to panic. What if he wanted to go further and discovered my secret?
 
 
I was shaking when I unlocked the front door, and he noticed.

“Leanne, are you okay, love?”

I nodded, as I was unsure of my voice.

“Are you sure, you look a bit pale to me?”

I almost started to cry again, and wondered what was wrong with me. I remembered the doctor telling me about mood swings. They shouldn’t be happening this quick, could they?

“I’m fine. Just women’s problems,” I said.

“Ah!” he said, smiling sympathetically in the way men do, when they don’t actually want any more information.

We sat in the kitchen and drank some tea. I felt safe with him here, even though I didn’t really know anything about him.

“When Josh told me you’d called and that your grandparents had died, I almost came up then at there. But it was two in the morning and I was as pissed as a ferret. I didn’t think you appreciate a drunken ferret at that time of the morning!”

I smiled. “Thanks for coming. I do feel so much better now.”

“Would you mind if I stayed a while? I don’t want to leave you alone just yet.”

I had moved into the big bedroom, so my old room was free. I showed him where it was.

“Thanks Adam. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“De nada. I was missing you anyway.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I fancied you from the moment I saw you.”

I laughed and he smiled.

“Hey, I’m not joking, okay. Just get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, kissing me on the lips.

He went to his room and closed the door.

I went to my room and changed into my nightdress. I had systematically removed everything in the house with any reference to Lee, or photographs with Lee in them. I was panicking in case he found something I had missed.

I went to sleep thinking of the kiss.
 
 
Something was tickling my foot.

I moved my foot, yet the tickling continued. Reluctantly, I opened an eye.

Adam was sitting on my bed, and tickling me with some part of a dried flower arrangement that was in the hall.

I immediately was awake. Then I remembered I had kept my knickers on, just in case.

“Morning,” he said, kissing me as if there was something between us.

I lay there, disbelieving that a hunky guy was kissing me. He could have any girl, yet he was here in my bedroom!

I felt a very strange feeling start deep down inside me, and it sort of spread outwards, giving me a tingly sensation all over.

I wrapped an arm round his neck, and returned the kiss as if it was the only one I was ever going to get.

Bladder pressure reminded me to stop before an accident happened.

I broke off, slightly breathless.

“Um, need a pee and, you know, women’s stuff,” I said. He grinned and let me get out of bed.

I locked the bathroom door. My heart was pounding, yet I knew something strange happened to me. I took my knickers down and sat on the loo. The despised worm and his friends were so small and yet they were so huge a problem that I hated them so much. If I thought it would help, I’d have cut them off with a pair of scissors, there and then.

I had a shower, washing my hair. I wrapped a towel around my synthetic breasts and another around my hair. I left the bathroom, and smelled frying bacon emanating from the kitchen.

The knickers I wore, were specially ordered form a specialist store. They kept all bulges out of sight, discreetly adding to my feminine shape, by increasing the shape of my hips and bum. I could wear any clothes, or even a swimsuit and no one could tell I wasn’t the real thing.

I dressed in a short skirt and pretty top. It was quite a nice day, so I wanted to feel and look as feminine as I could. I took my hormones, and desperately wanted to get rid of the synthetic boobs. I wanted my own!

I went downstairs and found Adam cooking a fat boy’s breakfast.

I went straight up to him and wrapped my arms around him from behind, as he stood at the stove. It was weird, as Lee I’d never consider touching another boy, but as Leanne, it seemed not only natural, but wonderful!

He was bigger than me, I guess six two at least. I was still under five ten with three-inch heels, so I felt small and vulnerable next to him.

He turned and drew me close to him. I looked up into his eyes as he smiled.

“Better?”

“Mmm,” I said, and he kissed me again.

The kiss went on and on, and he grasped both cheeks of my bum, pulling me close to him. I could feel his erection pressing against my tummy, and it felt so good. The fact I could turn a man on meant so much to me. I hated deceiving him, and the guilt make me break off the kiss. I almost told him then. I was too much a coward, because I suspected he’d throw a wobbly and I’d risk losing him completely. I actually needed him at this moment, so was content to maintain my deceit.

“That smells nice,” I said.

He still grasped my bum.

“You smell better!”

“Adam, no. Not yet, please.”

He smiled and let me go.

“Sorry,” he said. “You’re just so gorgeous, I can’t help myself.”

The guilt returned, so I had to turn away.

“Leanne? What did I say?”

“Oh Adam, It’s not you. It’s me,” I said and sat down. Tears were so close, yet still I could not bring myself to tell him.

“Oh!” he said, and smiling.

I frowned, as clearly he had an idea as to what was wrong. I had alluded to having a period, so I guessed that is what he thought was making me weird.
 
 
He dished up breakfast, and I ate a lot. I hadn’t been bothered about food recently, so had lost quite a bit of weight over recent weeks.

“So, what’s happening to this place?” he asked.

“The house? I haven’t decided yet. It’s mine, so I can keep it, let it or sell it. It’s all I have in the world, so I don’t want to squander it away.”

“What’s it worth?”

“Around the hundred thousand mark, I think.”

He got a crafty look in his eye.

“What?” I asked.

“Why don’t you sell it? You could buy a place in Bedford, let it for your year out and recoup some funds, and then we could move in next September, ready for our courses.”

“Where would I stay?”

“With me in Borehamwood. My aunt is a lonely spinster and wants to rent out her spare rooms. I pay her thirty quid a week, so you could do the same. Then I could see a lot more of you.”

I smiled, now I saw his rationale behind the suggestion.

I was in great danger. I knew that he would soon expect us to have a regular boyfriend/girlfriend relationship, and all that that entailed. I wasn’t ready for the physical side, for obvious reasons. I liked him. I liked him a lot, and felt all fuzzy when he simply looked at me. But, it wasn’t fair to him, so I was caught in a terrible dilemma.

The house idea was good, but I didn’t want to move into a situation where I would be in danger of exposure. I cursed the day I actually thought I’d get away with this silly deception.

“I’ll think about it. I might get more for renting this one, and then buy one in Bedford next year.”

“The way house prices are going up, Bedford is more expensive than here, so don’t leave it too long.”
 
 
He stayed with me for a few days, but despite my determination to keep things cool and not get too physical, we drifted into a kissing relationship.

I sensed he wanted to go further, but my emotional state was rather unpredictable, for a myriad of reasons, so he was very controlled.

We finished sorting the contents of the house. I may be a home-owner, but I had no cash whatsoever, so I needed to get a job as a matter of urgency.

He was in the same boat, so he disappeared to look for one nearer Borehamwood, leaving me alone again. My savings were down to less than one hundred pounds, so I was getting desperate.

I went to the job centre and browsed for a while. The pay for school leavers for short-term jobs was pretty awful, so I became more depressed.

Then I saw it.
 
 

 
 
I wrote down the number and went over to the phone bank. I called the number. I spoke to a girl, who, by the tone of her voice, had been fielding calls from hopefuls for some time. She gave me a time for an interview that very afternoon, also telling me to wear something I thought a Badger Girl would wear. I smiled, that was something I could do!
 
 
Chapter 4
 
 
Mike Harrison was around fifty, but looked younger. His hair was still streaked, but as the dark hair was going grey, he looked rather like an older badger now.

He was a big man, and every inch an ex-copper. His face smiled, but his eyes missed nothing, always seeking the out of place and the wrong. I thought he’d seen through my deception, but he said nothing.

I dressed in a short dark skirt, a tight black tee shirt, which accentuated my phoney boobs, making their nipples protrude through the thin material. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so hoped and prayed that the adhesive would hold!

It should do, as it was the extra strong variety, and was supposed to last for weeks at a time. I took them off every two weeks for a wash and to allow my skin to breathe for a couple of days. For one week, I’d wear them loose in the bra. I’d have to review this if I got the job here.
 
 
The club was closed, so a few cleaners were vacuuming and generally getting the place smart for the coming evening. Mike interviewed me in the bar, where we sat in a plush booth, not far from where we had sat on my only other visit.

“Have you any bar experience, Leanne?”

“I’ve worked in a couple of pubs. The first one before I was eighteen in the kitchens, and latterly behind the bar.”

“Okay, how about cocktails and the other specials that Badgers is so famous for?”

“I have been practicing a few moves. I haven’t really had a chance to try them out for real,” I admitted.

He stood up, and beaconed for me to go to the bar.

“Show me!”

I was very nervous.

He asked me for a Screaming Orgasm, A Slow Screw Against The Wall, a Harvey Wallbanger, and several other exotic mixes. I knew all but two. I found out they were house specials, so the recipes were kept quite confidential.

“If you knew them, then I’d know one of the girls had told you. I’d sack her if I ever found out who she was,” he told me.

He then asked me to show me some of the more active skills I had been practicing. I managed to pour three bottles in one hand at once. Throw three bottles in the air, catch them behind my back, and one or two other Tom Cruise specials from the film.

Mike nodded and grinned.

“I’m impressed. When can you start?”

I grinned. “Now?”

He laughed. “Okay, that suits me. See you at six this evening. I’ll put you with Kathy for the first week, so she’ll show you the ropes. I think you’ll do fine here.”

I grinned, and then a thought occurred to me.

“Mr Harrison?”

“Call me Mike, please Leanne.”

“Mike, don’t you get into trouble not employing males?”

He smiled again.

“I do employ males, but not behind the bars. You see, the majority of people who come here and spend money are men. The women who come here are usually brought by boyfriends or husbands, but not always. Men buy most drinks at the bar, as they like seeing pretty girls serving them in a different way. The floorshows we put on cater for both men and women audiences and, as a girl, you know how intimidating buying a drink at a bar can be. My market research is that women prefer being served by girls at the bar, as they feel less intimidated, except some older women, who like the boys. But then their tastes are catered for in some of the shows we put on, and the waiters are always available at the tables. The women do like waiters at the tables, just as the men like waitresses.”

“The bar staff are a show in their own right, so you know just how tricky some of the stunts are that you have already mastered. As a private club, we reserve the right to employ people in the capacity that we feel most appropriate. If we were an ordinary licensed premises, then we might face discriminatory problems, but so far we are fine. No one has complained, as our adverts are not gender specific.”

I smiled, knowing that they now employed one boy behind the bar!
 
 
I was able to hang around the club for the afternoon. I was given a locker in the girls’ rest room and, as the other girls started arriving, I was introduced to Kathy.

Kathy was the girl I had met that night when I had come as Lee. She was the girl who had told me how much she had earned, so I was afraid she would recognise me.

I needn’t have worried, she didn’t.

She was a slim and vivacious girl with blonde hair. I had always wanted to be a blonde, but she immediately raved about my hair colour.

“Oh, I love your hair, it goes so well with your tanned complexion, that auburn has such super natural highlights, is it natural?”

I blushed and admitted that it was.

“Cool! My skin is a real pain. I burn as soon as the sun comes out, and the hair frizzes as soon as it gets wet,” she said, and we were on the road to becoming friends immediately.
 
 
She showed me where we were to be working. There were three bars, one on each floor. We were working the ground floor bar. It was known as the Starter Bar by the girls, as it was where we all started off, and accordingly the tips were slightly less than in the other two.

Only the best worked in the top bar, and four girls worked each bar at any one time. We worked in pairs, and often the pairs stayed matched for some weeks, so routines and special tricks could be perfected. Mike liked us to change round, so we could all work with different partners. Thereby broadening the skills base, and making for a more professional team.

“So Leanne, why Badgers?”

“It’s a cool place, the pay is better than the pub I used to work in, and I just like the atmosphere. Why did you come here?” I replied.

“The pay! I can now afford to live well at university,” Kathy told me.

“Which one are you at?”

“Hertford Uni, at Hatfield. Reading Business studies and French.”

“Wow, what do you hope to do?”

“I don’t know. I think I’d like to do something in Europe, so the language is important, as is a good grounding in business. How about you?”

“I want to be a Primary School teacher.”

“No shit?” she said, staring at me.

“Sorry, but yup.”

“Bloody hell. I wish my teachers had been like you!”

We grinned, and she started showing me what was expected. She asked me what I already could do, and was quite surprised at the few tricks I had mastered.

“That’s cool. I’ve had two new girls, and had to teach them from scratch. You’re a good way down the line already. We’ll spend a good hour each day before opening getting our routines sorted.”

“What about breakages?”

“If you look, all the bottles we use are kept at about a quarter full. That way we lose only a little if we fuck up. The mark up on booze here is such that we can afford three breakages a night with no worries. After that, we pay a fiver a bottle out of our tips.”

“Do you break much?”

“Not any more. When I started, I knew nothing, so in the first three weeks I lost a fiver a day. It mounts up, and so the incentive not to drop them is strong.”

I worked out that she lost  £75 in her first three weeks. It seemed a lot of money to me. We worked a five-day week, no opening on Sunday or Monday. The club opened at eight p.m., and the girls were expected to be there from six until closing time at two a.m.

We were paid  £10 an hour, and then tips could, for the best amongst us, double that. Mike did everything properly, as tax was deducted at source, so we ended up with the  £10 after tax. The tips were not declared, so best I keep quiet about that! (please don’t tell the Inland Revenue!)

Most of us were students or school leavers. Some of the best girls had been here for a couple of years, so were professionals. Mandy was one, and she was planning a family. She had been here for five years, and her husband was a copper.

All her money was going into a saving’s account, and her first child was due in five months. She was on her last month before quitting. They were all so friendly, the hour’s training session was great fun and invaluable for new girls, like me.

I wasn’t the only newcomer. Three others had seen the same advert as I had and, like me, had been successful at interview, so we were all starting at the same time. I learned later that a lot more had applied and been turned down, so felt quite pleased with myself. It was an overdue boost to my quivering self-esteem.
 
 
We worked an hour on, and then had a twenty-minute break. The pressure for that hour was quite intense, and there were three pairs working together, with one of the pair off at any one time.

Kathy and I worked out some simple routines, and she checked my knowledge of the different cocktails. There were laminated cards beneath the bar, from which we could crib if we forgot. She told me the most popular, and showed me some tricks so as to reduce the volume of each drink by using fruit and ice.

“The booze prices mean that Mike makes a four to five hundred percent profit, but no one complains. Every Christmas he dishes out a bonus to each of us, and the girl who gets voted the best of the year by the punters gets a cheque for a grand!” Kathy told me.

“A grand?”

She grinned.

“I got it last year, which means I have to train the new girls this year. There is less chance of getting it in the Starter Bar.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a problem. It is fairer, as someone different will get it each year.”
 
 
We were ready when the club opened, and we were first up. The punters were slow to start arriving, so we were able to continue practising between serving drinks. After my first hour, we hadn’t had a breakage. I’d dropped a bottle of vodka, but miraculously it hadn’t broken, so spillage was negligible. Only breakages were counted.

On our break, Kathy nodded at my breasts.

“You ought to wear a bra, otherwise you’ll find that you get painful after a few hours of this shit. I know, as I was like you when I started.”

I blushed again, and went to my locker. I discretely put on my bra, so was therefore ‘seen’ as a ‘normal’ girl by at least three other girls.

Kathy had been right, it was a tiring few hours, and my feet ached terribly by the end of the evening.

“You’ve learned two lessons, wear a bra and comfortable shoes! Otherwise, pain is the end result,” Kathy said, unsympathetically.

Mike came and spoke to me before I left.

“You did well. I was watching you. You’re the first girl to manage your first night without dropping a bottle, well done.”

“I did drop one, but it didn’t break,” I admitted and he chuckled.

He paid me my tips.  £40 was a lot of money to me. I knew that I’d be getting my  £80 pay at the end of the week for this night, and that was simply wonderful.

“Thanks for the chance,” I said.

“No problem. Kathy says you’re a natural.”

I was pleased as I went out to my taxi.

I fell into bed exhausted, but decided to learn to drive or find somewhere to live within walking distance of the club.

I mentioned my living arrangements to Kathy when I arrived at work the following evening.

“I thought you had your own place?”

“I do. It was my grandparents’ place. It is too far away to be much good. I spent over  £20 on a taxi last night.”

“Shit, you don’t want to do that every night. Why don’t you find somewhere local, just temporarily?”

“How far is Borehamwood from here?” I asked.

“Not that far, why?”

“I have a boyfriend there, he suggested taking a room at his aunt’s place.”

“Go for it girl, that sounds a good offer to me. You could rent out your place in Luton and easily pay for a room at his place.”

I had some time before I needed to be in the bar, so I rang Adam on Josh’s number.

“Sorry, Leanne, he’s not here. I think he’s at his aunt’s.”

I called his aunt’s number.

A rather well spoken woman answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, may I speak to Adam, please.”

“Whom shall I say is calling?”

“Leanne.”

“One moment.”

I then heard her yell for Adam.

“Hi, Leanne, how are you?”

“Better thanks. Look, did you really mean it about the room at your aunt’s?”

“Of course, are you interested?”

“You see, I have this job in Potters Bar and, well, Luton is too bloody far away.”

“Where in Potters Bar?”

“A nightclub called Badgers, do you know it?”

“Shit, you’re a Badgers girl?”

“What?”

“Leanne, only the best get to work there. Are you a waitress or what?”

“I work in behind the bar, why?”

“Shit! I don’t fucking believe you. Do you know how many girls they turn down?”

“No, why?”

“Leanne, it’s the best nightclub for miles around, and only the most fantastic girls work behind the bar. Several of the top spots in London and New York make offers to Badgers girls.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, she says. You are remarkable. Are you there now?”

“Um, yes, why?”

“I’m coming to see you. I have to see this!”

“Adam, wait! About the room?”

“It’s yours. Shit, a Badgers girl!”

There was a click as he hung up on me.

Kathy was looking at me strangely.

“You really don’t have a clue about the nightclub scene, have you?” she asked.

“Not really, why?”

“I take it your boyfriend was gobsmacked when you told him you worked here?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure why. It’s just a job.”

“Leanne, it isn’t just a job. It’s a golden opportunity and for everyone Mike accepts, over a hundred get turned down.”

I stared at her and smiled weakly.

“How many jobs did you try before this one?” she asked.

“None. This was the first.”

She grinned and shook her head.

“Come on, we need to practice,” she said, and threw a bottle of rum at me.
 
 
We weren’t on first shift, and started at twenty to nine. We were well into the shift when a familiar figure loomed at the bar.

“How about a slow screw against the wall?” Adam asked, with a leer.

“Sure, and do you want something to drink as well?” I said.

Another guy, smaller than Adam, and with long fair hair grinned and punched Adam on the arm.

“Hi, so, I get to meet the lovely Leanne, at last?” he said.

“Leanne, Josh. Josh, Leanne,” Adam said, rubbing his arm.

“Hi Josh, drink?”

“Why not? What do you recommend?”

“Everything is very expensive, so I suggest a bottle of Bud, otherwise you need an overdraft.”

They grinned and ordered two bottles of Bud.

As I handed them over, Adam leaned across the bar.

“How about the slow screw against the wall?”

I smiled sweetly, and wagged my finger at him. My heart was racing, and I really wished I wasn’t what I was.
 
 
I had to serve a small party of northern sales reps, who were obviously out to spend a lot of money. One had already offered me cash to go to bed with him, and I wasn’t playing that game. One of the bouncers had drifted over and stood a safe distance away.

Kathy and I went into a routine of throwing bottles at each other, and lobbing ice into glasses several feet away. We got a round of applause, and I watched several bank notes disappear into the tip box on the bar.

At our break, I went and joined the boys at their table. Adam stood as I arrived and before I knew what was happening, we were kissing. It seemed to go on for an age, and I reluctantly broke off and sat down.

The rules were that if we joined anyone, they had to buy us a drink. We were allowed two drinks a night, and the cash went into the tip box.

I stuck to lemonade in any case.

“You look bloody marvellous!” Adam said.

“Yeah!” said Josh, staring at my tits.

“I spoke to my aunt, and she would be delighted to have a trainee primary school teacher in the house. She was a teacher before she retired, and feels you will be a good influence on me,” Adam told me.

Josh was still staring at my chest. I felt self-conscious, but flattered.

“Hey, Josh, leave my tits alone!” I said, folding my arms, so he went a delightful red colour.

“So when can I move in?” I asked.

“When do you want to?”

“Tomorrow?”

He grinned.

“Do you need help to move?”

“Can you?”

“Of course. Josh has a car. Can we come back and stay at your place tonight, then we can move you when we get up.”

I smiled.

“Sounds too good to be true,” I said.

“What are you going to do with your place?”

“I’ll contact a letting agent, and let it fully furnished. I should get about five to six hundred a month for a three bedroom house.”

I had to go back to work, so the guys made their beers last a very long time. At four pounds a bottle, they had good reason to.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 2
 
 
To Be Continued...