Author's Note: This is a light-hearted, cross-dressing mystery story, written in my normal style, which I hope you enjoy. It does contain references to adult themes, and some of its characters have little sympathy with the Catholic Church. Please don't read if you feel this will upset you.

CHAPTER 2
SATURDAY
By three pm the next day, Sam – or Samantha as Charley was insisting he now be called – was staring transfixed into the mirror. He was gorgeous! Or at least, the girl he'd turned into was gorgeous. If he carefully stared at his face, he could vaguely recognise his own somewhere, but a blink of the eye and his face transformed back into Samantha's. But he could hardly keep his eyes on his face when just below were the most fantastic pair of knockers he had ever seen – and they were on his chest! Why would any boy fancy a bitch like Charley Hawkins, just because she had a nice pair of tits, when he could have a pair of his own which were even better? Because these products were a well-kept secret, that was why.

The curve of his hips and thighs beneath his narrow waist was so feminine, even more so than the huge jugs. Of course, one of the other things Charley hadn't mentioned was the Playtex girdle which he had to wear in order to fit into the dress.

"Of course you're going to have to reduce the size of that beer-belly," she had scorned, although to be fair, if he had a beer-belly, he would never have fitted into the dress, girdle or no girdle. The girdle was unbelievably small, and it had taken ages for Charley to pull up the zip, compressing his stomach into little more than the thickness of a broomstick – or that's how it felt. But now Sam was looking in the mirror, any amount of discomfort would have been worth it

Even his voice had gone up in pitch, after Charley had insisted he swallow a pill which seemed to burn out his throat, but which left him with a voice like a canary – OK, not quite a canary, but certainly nothing like his own.

"Hello darling," said the frail and elderly voice. "How are you getting on with things? Oh!"

Sam turned sharply round to face the elderly man who had entered the room. "Hello," he said, "I'm…"

"Samantha!" the man exclaimed. "Oh, Samantha, I've waited so long for this moment." He moved forward and threw his arms around Sam, repeating, over and over, "Oh, Samantha! Oh, Samantha!"

"Don't be stupid, GG," Charley came bustling back into the room. "You know this isn't really Samantha at all. It's a boy we're employing to take her part for tonight." Sam presumed that GG was a childhood name for great-grandfather - an acronym that made sense.

"I know, I know. I simply never believed she – he, whatever – could look so like my Samantha."

Whilst GG had been talking to Charley, he had not taken his eyes off Sam. "You're so incredibly like her. It's as though..."

His eyes widened, and Sam saw hope suddenly appear in them.

"Your grandmothers," GG said. "Do you have pictures of your grandmothers?"

"Don't be silly, GG," Charley said. "I told you Sam couldn't possibly be descended from Samantha. He comes from Yorkshire." Clearly, the possibility that a relation of hers should come from Yorkshire was unthinkable.

"I'm pretty certain that both of my grandmothers were born and bred in Yorkshire," Sam said sympathetically, adding, "I'm afraid my maternal grandmother died last year, but I could probably find her memorial picture on Facebook, as well as a photo of my paternal grandmother."

"Oh, yes, please," GG said.

"Do we have to do this now?" Charley interrupted. "I want Samantha to practice her elocution a little more. You can see she has a long way to go."

"I think she sounds great as she is," GG said. "She is taking Samantha's part, not trying to replace her."

Sam realised that in his conversation with GG, he'd forgotten all about the carefully contrived elocution of the rain in Spain which Charley had made him repeat over and over. Instead, he'd reverted to his native Yorkshire dialect, with a girlish voice.

"But she can do it if she tries." Charley said to GG. "It will..."

Sam interrupted her. "It will only take a few minutes to show the pictures to GG, er Mr… erm?" He wasn't certain what he should call GG.

GG smiled and said, "You'd better start calling me Daddy. I know it will sound a bit strange at first, but let's get the strangeness out of the way before this evening's presentation. I'd really love you to show me your Facebook pages straightaway."

So Sam got his smartphone and quickly brought up pictures of his two grandmothers. GG's disappointment at seeing they were clearly not his daughter was heart-breaking to Sam, if not to Charley.

"Of course it wasn't going to be her," she scoffed. "Samantha would hardly have gone to Yorkshire."

"But Daddy had to check," Sam protested, earning a smile of appreciation from GG, partly for calling him Daddy, but also for taking his side against Charley.

"So now can we get back to improving Samantha's dreadful accent?" Charley asked.

"That's more of a fatherly duty," GG said. "Come on, Samantha, let's walk in the garden, like we used to do all those years ago, and we can practice your accent whilst we talk."

"Yes, Daddy," Sam said.

"Not in that dress," Charley said. "Take it off and you can put my spare tracksuit back on."

***

It had felt incredibly strange uttering that very first, "Daddy." After all, he'd always called his own father, "Dad," and he'd never heard anyone use the term, Daddy, other than in books and on TV. To use it on an unknown elderly man felt - well, yes, it felt perverted, like the man was his sugar daddy. But then GG had given him that complicit smile, and any feeling that he was still Sam dissolved away. For the next few hours, he was going to be GG's daughter, reunited with her father after some kind of time warp in which he had aged and she had not.

"I'm afraid the garden has run wild since you were last here, Samantha," GG said.

"It's been so long ago, my memory is rather hazy," he responded. They smiled at each other, and he added, "Why don't you show me around - where I used to play hide and seek or rounders."

"Oh, God, Samantha," he said. "I've waited forty-eight years for this moment."

Sam took his arm and said, "Then let's not waste a moment."

***

Sam had always been far closer to his mother than his father. It was her second marriage and she already had a two-year-old child. Surprisingly, his dad seemed to get on better with his stepson, Sam's half-brother, Peter, than he did with Sam. He seemed to spend all his time in their younger years teaching him how to kick a football and play cricket, and as they grew older, how to carve wood or repair cars. Much to his father's disgust, Sam had never taken an interest in any of those things, preferring tennis to football, and wanting to drive cars rather than mending them. When his father died of a heart attack, Sam bitterly regretted not having spent more time with him.

So it seemed really nice, walking along and chatting to his new, make-believe father, who told him about the real Samantha, and asked him about the real Sam. By unspoken agreement, they both avoided any talk about things which identified his gender, but that really was not too difficult, as it seemed Samantha was a bit of a tomboy, and had enjoyed many of the things which Sam also enjoyed. Time simply flew by, and it was all too soon when Charley interrupted their conversation.

"Are you going to chatter away all day? The guests will be arriving in less than an hour, and Samantha has to get dressed again."

Sam gave GG a smile, and said, "I suppose she's right. I'd better go."

"I know you're staying the night," GG said, "but would you like to stay on for the rest of Sunday. I… Well, there's something I'd like to show you, and…"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, GG, Samantha has to get changed."

Sam smiled at GG again, and said, "I'd love to stay tomorrow, although I have to leave in the afternoon to get the train to Sheffield, where my family live."

"I shan't be able to give you a lift to the station," Charley said. "I'm meeting my boy friend tomorrow. I've wasted enough time with this memorial, as it is."

"A lift is no problem," GG said. "Now you'd better get dressed and I'm looking forward to seeing you later."

***

The house, which had been deserted when they had arrived the previous evening, was now frenetic with activity. In the main hall, caterers had installed several tables with white tablecloths and sparkling silver cutlery, and there were dozens of waiting staff scurrying about.

There were also several members of the family strolling around as though they owned the place. Charley greeted them and told them that the stand-in (Sam) had been lazing about and now she (Charley) had to get her dressed. The relatives looked at Sam simply as the hired help, and took as little notice of him as they did of the serving staff, busy with their preparations.

So Sam and Charley went back upstairs to the bedroom they had been using as a changing room all day.

***

"Ladies and gentlemen," the toastmaster proclaimed, "Miss Samantha Harper, presented by her father, Sir George Harper."

"Sir? I didn't know you were a sir," Sam said to GG, as they stated to process towards the top table. "You kept that quiet."

He grinned back at her and said, "You don't know your own father very well, do you?"

But they had reached the top table and GG bowed to Lady Bottomly, and said in a loud voice, "My Lady, may I present my daughter, Miss Samantha Harper, who, being of sound and loyal principles, I commend to you."

Lady Bottomly was an old biddy who looked positively ancient. Difficult to credit that she had been contemporary friends with the young girl whom Sam was portraying.

Sam had practised the curtsey, several times with Charley, who had explained that a conventional curtsey, with that tight-fitting dress, would be impossible. Instead, she simply put her right foot behind the left, held the side of her skirt and bent her knees slightly, before standing back up.

Lady Bottomly smirked at her curtsey in a not-unfriendly manner, and said, "I welcome you to our society of gentlemen and gentlewomen. May you enjoy a long and fruitful life."

As Sam and her father stepped backwards in the grovelling manner so much enjoyed by the aristocracy, the toastmaster was introducing the next 'girl' to be presented, Christine Walters. Sam and GG moved to face each other on opposite sides of the aisle to allow Christine and her 'father' to pass between them and be presented to Lady Bottomly.

Charley had explained that the debutante presentation was to be as close as possible to the one originally planned, where possible using the same people who would have taken part. In this case, Christine Walters, the 'girl' to be presented, was in her late sixties, and since her actual father was dead, she was being presented by her grandson, Matthew Thompson. The irony of the event caused a ripple of amusement to pass amongst the twenty or so people who were observing the presentation.

A total of six 'girls' were being presented and it split half and half amongst originals and younger people standing in for them. When they had all been presented, the music started, and GG and Samantha led the way to the dance floor to briefly dance together.

Thankfully, the short demonstration dance by the six 'girls' and their presenters did not lead onto a general dance session – presumably because of the senior years of many of those involved. Instead, the toastmaster had bid them to take their places at the table for dinner, and GG had been placed next to Lady Bottomly with Sam on his other side. It meant GG had to talk to Lady Bottomly which left Sam open to conversation from Christine Walters' grandson next to him, who dearly wanted to get to know 'her' better. Fortunately, the male Sam was in no danger of recognition, since the boy was not at Seacombe University but at Oxford, a fact he conveyed in considerably less than the twenty-eight minutes normally allowed by Oxbridge students for such declarations of superiority.

For the first time in his life, Sam realised what it was like to be a girl with some jerk staring down your cleavage – it felt great! In fact, he couldn't stop a smile reaching his lips every time he noticed; unfortunately, this only caused the boy to try all the harder to get to know Samantha better.

Eventually, GG turned to Sam and said, "Lady Bottomly is telling me I must go and attend to my guests, but I think that really, she wants to talk to you. You and she were great friends, all those years ago." GG stood up and started moving along the table, talking to other guests as he went. Fortunately, the first guest he spoke to was the boy next to him, so Sam was able to slide up one seat towards Lady Bottomly and greet her with, "Good evening, Lady Bottomly."

"I never expected you to look quite so like the real Samantha," Lady Bottomly said. "How did they find you?"

"It was just coincidence," Sam said. "Charley, who I suppose is my make-believe great niece, saw me and recognised the similarity to the painting. She told Sir George who decided to hold this memorial debutante presentation."

"Are you certain there's no family connection," Lady Bottomly asked. Sam realised there was more than a slight interest behind her question.

"I've shown Sir George photographs of my real grandmothers, and he could see neither of them were the real Samantha," Sam said. He paused and then added, "You were good friends, weren't you? It was you who took the photograph which was turned into the painting."

She smiled. "In those days, of course, you had to finish the roll of film and then get it developed. With the trauma of Samantha's disappearance, I forgot I'd taken that photo. She'd been missing for several weeks before I had it developed. It so captured her as a person, but then..." She paused, searching for words. "...well, so do you."

She reached out and took Sam's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I can see why Sir George wanted to see photographs of your grandmothers. It's so tempting to believe that Samantha lives on in you as a grandchild."

"Then you don't believe she, herself, is still alive?"

She shook her head. "I know she'd have made contact, sooner or later. But then, I never believed she'd been abducted. Maybe she went off with some boy."

"Why don't you believe she was abducted?"

"The timing was too tight. The police thought the same, actually. It happened on Easter Saturday, the afternoon of her debutante presentation. It was going to be held at this house, as it was today. Samantha's mother, Mary, popped out to the shops at about two-thirty leaving Samantha alone in the house. I arrived here about two-forty-five, and Samantha had gone. Could anyone have taken her against her will in fifteen minutes? Knowing Samantha, she'd have put up a good fight. There'd have been some signs of a struggle. But she'd simply disappeared, leaving the dress you're wearing on the bed."

"Had she packed a suitcase?"

Lady Bottomly shook her head. "She had a lot of clothes – a result of all those shopping trips with me – so it was difficult to tell, but she certainly hadn't taken any of her favourite outfits and there didn't seem to be a suitcase missing from the house."

"Presumably she had a boyfriend?"

Lady Bottomly smiled. "It was more that we had boys who were friends. There were a group of seven of us – three girls, Samantha, Christine Walters and me, and four boys: Barry Jones, Steve Baines, Tony Thompson and Samantha's elder brother, Edward. Often we'd go out as a group, but sometimes as dates, although more often that was just Christine and me. Samantha would occasionally come on a date with us, with Barry or Steve as a partner. But none of us stuck to one boy; we’d chop and change.

"And share experiences afterwards," she smiled as she reminisced. "You have to remember we were young girls in a changing era. We had miniskirts up to our buttocks, the pill had just been invented, AIDS hadn't, and VD was something that only the working classes got (in our dreams, anyway)."

Sam smiled back at her. "You said Samantha didn't come out on dates with you as often as Christine. Perhaps she had someone special who wasn't part of your group?"

"No," Lady Bottomly dismissed, "she wouldn't do that. Incidentally, I understand you're staying the night here with Sir George?"

The change of subject took Sam by surprise. "Well, the rest of the family are here as well."

"I think you'll find the rest of the family are all staying at the Grand Hotel, except Charley who has her own accommodation in Seacombe. The plumbing here hasn't been changed since 1966, when Sir George closed it down, so they prefer more modern facilities."

"Oh." Sam was surprised. "Well, it will just be Sir George and me, then."

"Yes."

The innuendo shook Sam. "Look, he's treating me like the daughter he lost all those years ago. I'm sure he has no plans to attempt anything else."

"Firstly, you are not actually his daughter, and secondly…"

"Secondly?" Sam prompted.

"Well, secondly…" She hesitated, and then it seemed to Sam she changed her mind about what she had been going to say. "Well secondly, it seems that often the closer that men get to death, the more they want to ensure the survival of their genes. Look, I'm just suggesting you keep your door locked tonight, all right?"

"Yes," Sam said. "Thanks for the advice as a friend." He hesitated a second and then added, "You were very close friends, weren't you?"

She nodded. "Yes, we were very good friends, and I would dearly like to find out what happened to her, even now. I despise her father, but I came here tonight because I wanted to remember Samantha as she was. You have helped enormously with that, so I thank you. I think it's time I retired now." She stood up and said, "Goodnight," before leaving the table.

Her departure served as a signal for others in the room to do the same, most of them saying their goodbyes and giving their thanks to GG. Sam stayed seated where he was, content to finish his glass of wine and mull over the conversation with Lady Bottomly.

So he was taken by surprise when Charley bent down in front of him to frantically whisper, "I won't say a word about who you are, if you don't tell Mummy who planted the idea of the presentation into GG's mind." Then she was standing up and turning round and saying in a loud voice, "Mummy, this is Sam, who is playing the part of Samantha."

Sam looked up to see a woman bearing down on them. She looked dressed fit for a royal presentation, in a white brocade suit with hat which made her look divine – if only she had been smiling. Instead, she looked incredibly annoyed. He automatically struggled to his feet, and then wondered whether it was something a woman should do when another comes up to speak. He was to discover very quickly that it didn't really matter whether he stood or sat.

"I don't care who you are, or how you managed to look so similar to my aunt. I don't even care how you managed to get to see Sir George and con him into organising this presentation. But what I do care is that when this event ends, you promptly remove yourself from this house and from our lives."

"Er," Sam started to say, "well…"

"Ah, Geraldine," GG said, suddenly appearing beside her, "I see you've met Sam. Isn't it wonderful how much she resembles Samantha? But I'm afraid she is no relation of ours – I've already checked. That presumably is what you wanted to find out, wasn't it?"

"Well, that was partly it," Charley's mother confessed. "But I feel uncomfortable with her looking so similar to the real Samantha. I was asking Sam to remove herself as soon as she has finished her role here."

GG smiled at Sam. "Since you never knew the real Samantha, I don't see how you can feel uncomfortable with her. In any case, I've asked her to stay on for another day. It's quite nice having her around the place. You don't mind, do you?"

Charley's mother sniffed at him and said, "It's not my decision, but you know I think it's about time you went to live in a home."

GG smiled, "And you know, Geraldine, they'll have to carry me there, feet first."

Another sniff from Geraldine and she turned on her heel and walked away, with Charley following behind.

"It's strange," GG quietly said, "how all that side of our family: your brother, Edward; Geraldine, my granddaughter; and Charley, my great-granddaughter, all take after my wife, Mary. Even when you and Edward were children, I always loved spending time with you and had to force myself to spend time with Edward." He shrugged. "I'd better get back to saying farewell to my guests."

***

Finally, the guests had all left and the caterers were clearing the last of the tables, and then folding them up and stacking them in a corner of the room.

GG, having finished his hosting duties returned to Sam and said, "Come upstairs with me. There's something I want to show you. Something I haven't shown to anyone in a long time."