Dennis Moore has a skin affliction which lies in wait until the most inconvenient moments. On a family visit to his cousins matters become desperate.
Dennis Moore has a skin condition which flares up on a holiday to his cousins. Away from his usual treatments alternative solutions have to be invented.
Scratch!
an amusement by Penny Lane
1 of 3 - Soggy Sunday
Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story
are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing
copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2022 Penny Lane.
All rights reserved.
Author's Note: We went away for a few days recently and my arms began itching. That, together with being stuck in a hotel while the Queen's funeral was on, together with certain odd happenings from my past, caused this light tale to bubble into life. To be clear, the following tale is fiction.
Following part 3 I will post a blog describing the Real Life
influences.
"Aaargh!"
The teenage boy at the kitchen table furiously scrubbed his arms through his sweatshirt.
Gayle Moore looked at her son with concern and sympathy. "You really should not be doing that, Dennis. You know that it will only make matters worse."
Sylvia Hemmings looked at her sister. "It seems to be very bad this time. Why don't the doctors know what he has?"
"They've tried all the usual tests and come up with nothing." Gayle rolled her eyes. "Personally, I think that they have no idea at all what is wrong with him. He's been using this ointment for, oh, it must be four years now, and while it isn't getting worse I do not think it is getting better either."
"Why do you think it has flared up now?"
Gayle shrugged. "Who knows? Could be the time of the year, could be the food - we are eating different things than we would at home, of course, it could just be the water."
Sylvia looked at her sister. "Are you saying that we are trying to poison you all?"
"Ha ha. You're not doing anything deliberately, Syl. We're just in the Frozen North, that's all. It might have been worse if we had flown abroad, for example."
"True. Dennis, do you mind if I had a look?"
"Of course, Aunt Sylvia."
He pushed both his sleeves back past his elbows, exposing the angry red skin, some of it raised and lumpy. Sylvia and her two daughters winced, while Jennifer, Dennis's younger sister, had seen it all before and carried on eating her toast.
"It's getting to that awkward time of year," Gayle explained. "While he is in tee shirts we can just trowel on the ointment and let it soak in in its own time. Now that the seasons are getting cooler, it is going to be uncomfortable to leave his arms exposed for too long."
"Less uncomfortable than the alternative," Dennis muttered, pulling the sleeves back down.
"So what do you do? It must mean a lot of washing."
"Timing is the main thing," Gayle continued. "Sometimes we do it when he gets in from school and the house is warm enough. Doesn't help him in school, of course. Sometimes we can do it just before he goes to bed. He has tubular bandages that help keep the muck off his nightclothes and the sheets."
"Bandages?" Sylvia frowned. "I haven't seen any of those since you've been here."
"That's because they are still at home, probably wherever Dennis left them."
"Mum! I told you, they are still hanging up in the conservatory after you washed them. I never had them back in my room, you never told me when they were ready."
"Oh, yes. Sorry, Dennis. It was a bit frantic just before we left, wasn't it?"
"Yeah. If Dad had been there -"
"Well, he isn't and you know why. Maybe we'll see him before we have to go home but he has a difficult job to do."
"Yes, Mum."
"It's not like you to forget something like that. Did you actually bring anything away with you?"
"Course, Mum! I always have the tub of ointment with me in case I need it. There's some of the Hydrocortisone cream as well, though there's not much left of that."
Gayle sighed. "That means another consultant appointment, I suppose. Something else to sort out when we get home."
Breakfast resumed for a while with Dennis heroically refraining from scrubbing his arms again.
"Dennis?"
"Yes, Aunt Sylvia?"
"Is that it on the backs of your hands as well? I didn't notice before."
"It is, Aunt Sylvia. The doctors think it might have started there. I have some cotton gloves to wear... Mum! No gloves here either."
"No," his mother answered slowly. "I did them all in a separate wash, of course, so they are in the conservatory as well. That could be a problem."
Sylvia asked, "Gloves? What kind of gloves, Dennis?"
"They are sort of cotton gloves, Aunt Sylvia, like women use for skincare, but they have a long cuff on them. They don't cover my whole arms but it's just about enough when I don't have the bandages."
"Gayle? How is it Dennis has this big problem yet you can forget to bring along things like that?"
Gayle flipped a hand. "Until we came here this year there was nothing, Syl. He gets flare ups like this for maybe two or three weeks and then it will go away for months and months at a time. It can be easy to forget, to forget to prepare in case it does flare up while we were away."
"Of course. So, it will be off to the chemist, then, to stock up?"
Gayle shook her head. "Too late now. It is Sunday, remember, and the shops aren't exactly next door. Then tomorrow is the Bank Holiday, which of course is why it has been raining for three days."
"True. What about Meadowhall? That's open practically all day and all night."
"I really don't fancy driving all that way in this rain and then having to walk across a car park the size of Belgium in the same rain. In decent weather, maybe, but not this."
"But if Dennis needs something, then... Tell me, is there anything special about what he needs?"
Gayle shrugged again. "Natural fibres, mainly. Stuff that can be washed at a high temperature, which usually means cotton."
"Mums?" That was Carrie, the older of the two cousins. "I have an idea. What about those long gloves of mine? They are pure cotton, the entire costume is."
Sylvia looked at her daughter with surprise. "I had forgotten those! But don't you want to keep that costume all together?"
"I tried some of it on some weeks ago, Mums, because my wardrobe is getting full again, and most of it is too small for me now. I was thinking of boxing it all up and passing it on. The gloves just about fit but even they are getting tight. Dennis is a little smaller than me and they'd probably fit him now. If it's for a good cause..."
Sylvia considered. "Why not? Run along and fetch them, dear, it is the least we can offer."
Carrie got up from the table and left the kitchen. Gayle looked at Sylvia with interest.
"What costume is this?"
"Don't you remember, it was, oh, three years ago now they did Pride and Predjudice in school? Carrie was Lydia Bennet. I remember now, there were long gloves for the ballroom scene. All the actors got to keep the costumes because that was just before the schools merged."
"Ballroom gloves?" Dennis looked apprehensive.
"Well, don't turn them down just because of the name, young man. They would be hidden under your sweatshirt so nobody would see anything but your hands and if it makes a difference..."
"Yeah. S'pose so."
"We don't know if they would fit or be the right material or anything yet. Just wait until Carrie gets back."
Carrie came back with two long white tubes which had fingers dangling at the bottom.
"Ta da!"
Gayle held out her hand to receive the gloves and looked carefully at them. "These are cotton all right, Dennis. You'd better try them on to see if they would fit you."
Dennis took off his sweatshirt first, revealing a desert camouflage tee shirt. The gloves seemed soft and smooth and ridiculously long. He pushed his left hand inside and wiggled the fingers all the way down, then turned to his right hand to discover a problem.
"Mum? Uh, I don't think I can do this on my own. I don't have enough grip."
"Oh, that's all right, dear. Here, let me help."
Gayle held the glove for Dennis to push his right hand in, then waited until he had sorted out which finger went where before pulling the cotton tube up past his elbow. She then pulled up the left glove.
Sylvia commented, "Those look like they fit well, Dennis. Good thinking, Carrie."
Dennis wriggled his fingers thoughtfully. "They do fit, Aunt Sylvia. Aaaagh!"
Abruptly he furiously rubbed his two forearms against each other. "Mum? I need that ointment now."
Gayle turned to her sister. "If you are both sure you can part with these gloves, it will be a big help. You can see what state he's in."
"Of course! Carrie had the gloves, they don't fit her any more and I don't think Andrea is that interested in wearing a Regency costume, do you?"
The expression on the younger cousin's face told everybody what she thought of that idea.
Gayle rose. "Come on, then, Dennis. Better get you sorted out immediately."
In Dennis's bedroom - really, a small boxroom just big enough for a sleeping bag - he opened his backpack and ploughed through his clothes for the tub of white ointment. He handed it to his mother before attempting to strip off the gloves. His gloved fingers could not easily grip the fingers of the other glove to pull them off.
"Not easy to do this, Mum. What happens when I want to wash my hands or go to the toilet?"
Gayle stopped with tub in one hand and lid in the other. "Good thinking, Dennis. I think we can let you keep them on all day if it helps, even for meals. Going to the toilet, you'd better come and ask me to help you take them off first." She smiled at her son. "It isn't as if we'll be going very far today, is it?"
They both listened to the rain pounding against the window. "Not likely, Mum! Okay, then."
With the gloves off Dennis was able to excavate enough ointment from the tub to liberally cover both arms. This process also meant that his hands were thoroughly covered as well. He rubbed it in for a while until it was just sticky against his skin and then held his arms out. Gayle fed the gloves back on and worked them smoothly up past his elbows. There were two ends of a thin white ribbon from inside the end seam, she pulled these snug, made a bow and then absent-mindedly tucked the bow and the ends inside the sleeve of the glove with a finger.
"There! How does that feel?"
"Ooooh," He moaned. "Mum, you have no idea how good that feels."
She smiled. "What, the gloves or the ointment?"
He looked at her, startled. "The ointment, of course. Um, I mean the whole thing. The gloves sort of squeeze against my skin and that makes everything calm down, I think. Like those long-sleeved tee shirts I have for winter."
"These are a lot more close-fitting than the sleeves of your tee shirts, Dennis. Maybe that's the answer."
"What, Mum?"
"Just a wild thought. Remind me of this conversation when we get home, won't you? Perhaps we need to be a little more open-minded about this."
"I wish the doctors would be a little more open-minded!"
"Can't disagree, Dennis. Do you want me to do up the tub?"
"Let me see if I can still do that. There ought to be something I can do with all this on."
Dennis found that he could, indeed, put the lid securely back on the tub. He returned it to the backpack.
"What will you four get up to this morning, then?"
He jerked a thumb at the soaked window glass. "Same as we have been doing the last few days, Mum. Card games or board games, I suppose. Oh!" He wiggled his gloved fingers. "Maybe there are some games I can't do now."
Gayle smiled. "I'm sure the girls will think of something."
Card games were out, since Dennis couldn't separate anything in his hand, and that also ruled out Monopoly, since he couldn't manage the banknotes. Fortunately there were enough other games in the house to keep the four occupied. The morning passed reasonably well until Gayle appeared with a tray of drinks and snacks.
"Here you are, then. There's only two biscuits each since I didn't want any of you to spoil your appetites for lunch." She put the tray on the floor between Carrie and Jennifer. "Dennis? Do you have some kind of problem?"
She had noticed him shifting about uncomfortably where he knelt on the floor.
"Uh, what, Mum? Oh..." He realised that he had been moving about because... "Mum, I think it might have come out somewhere else. Can we go off and have a look?"
"You can't have a look here?"
As he levered himself onto his feet, Dennis replied, "I don't want to drop my trousers in front of everybody, Mum. I'd rather go upstairs to look and because of these gloves I might need your help."
"Okay, I can see that. Come on, then."
The guest bedroom had more space than Dennis's tiny room so Gayle went in there to find Sylvia putting linen away.
"Oh! I didn't realise you were in here," Gayle said. "We'll go elsewhere, then."
"Why? I've seen Dennis's arms before now."
"It isn't his arms that are the problem, it might be his legs."
"His legs? That might be more awkward to deal with if that is the case. Dennis, would you mind me staying?"
"No, Aunt Sylvia, I've been here enough times you know what I look like undressed."
"But you're now a teenage boy," she pointed out, "and teenagers, from my experience, suddenly develop an urge to keep their bodies private, especially a boy in a house full of females. Are you sure you won't mind?"
"It's just going to be more ugly red rash, Aunt Sylvia. It's not like I'll be dancing naked in front of you."
"Good grief! I hope not! Gayle, I hope you remember where we keep the smelling salts!"
"Ha ha. You haven't owned any smelling salts since our grandparents were alive! All right, Dennis, what do you want me to do?"
"Just push down the waist of these joggers, Mum. I don't think I'll need to take them completely off."
The jogging bottoms had been bought new two weeks previously especially for this trip, knowing that the weather might force everybody to stay indoors. Gayle put her fingers inside the waistband each side and tugged. Once over Dennis's almost non-existant hips they fell to the floor around his ankles.
"Oh, look at that!" gasped Sylvia.
There were broad red stripes down the outside of both thighs, plus a red patch on the front of Dennis's left thigh. They were not yet the angry red lumps present on his arms, but the potential was there.
"Hmm. That looks different." Gayle inspected Dennis from all angles, noting that there appeared nothing unusual below his knees. "Any trouble with your ankles or feet?"
"Not that I've noticed, Mum."
Gayle frowned. "What could have done that, do you think? That happened suddenly, didn't it? You didn't say there was anything on your legs last night."
"No idea, Mum."
Sylvia suggested, "Could it be the material? You did tell me those bottoms were new."
"Good thinking, Syl. Dennis, can you take them off so we can look at the label? I'll help you."
With the trousers off both women scrutinised the label.
"Acrylic, 92%. Nylon, 6%, Elastane, 2%. What's this? Exclusive of trim. Oh, here. Trim, other materials."
"Well, that's a lot of use, isn't it? Gayle, what does trim mean in this instance?"
"That must be the..." Gayle turned the trousers inside out, "...fancy stripes down the sides, look! I don't know what that is made of but I bet it lines up with those marks on his legs!"
They both looked down at Dennis's legs.
"Spot on," Sylvia said, "but what about that patch at the front?"
"Yes, look here, the logo has been welded on and some of it has seeped through. Damn. It is probably too late to take these back now. I should have been more alert when we bought them but he's never had problems like this before."
"Okay, what else does he have to wear?"
"Not a lot, unfortunately. How are his jeans?" Gayle asked her sister. "Would they be ready yet?"
Sylvia shook her head. "Not a chance. They were washed yesterday but you know I can only spin, not tumble-dry. With this rain they will be the devil to get dry. And then they will need ironing or they will end up like corrugated roofing sheet. I wonder... The girls found something to help with his arms, perhaps they have something that would do for his legs."
Dennis became alarmed. "Aunt Sylvia?"
"Look, Dennis, it seems you have little option unless you keep wearing these, and I don't think you want to do that, do you? Carrie might have a pair of jeans that would fit, or..." she tailed off.
"Or." Dennis licked his lips and looked up at his mother. "Mum? Is there any other choice?"
"Well," Gayle replied, "I could jump in the car, drive through this torrential rain to an out-of-town supermarket, try and find something that might do - assuming they have anything, of course - then come back and find it doesn't fit. Or you could wear something different around the house for a day or two. You weren't planning to go out in this rain again, were you?"
Sylvia looked at him sympathetically. "Dennis, I know you're being pushed into a corner, but the girls all know what you have to put up with. I'm sure they will understand. Shall I call them up?"
He rubbed the red patch on his left thigh with the heel of his gloved hand then sighed. "Yes, Aunt Sylvia. Let's get it over with."
The girls were called and the house reverberated to the sound of a herd of elephants thundering up the stairs. Unfortunately, Dennis had overlooked one small detail.
"Look! He's wearing knickers!"
In her most repressive voice Gayle informed them, "Dennis is wearing undergarments of cotton which are the most comfortable we could find."
He was, indeed wearing standard schoolgirl's cotton briefs in dark green. Jennifer already knew this, of course, but the other two understood immediately why this had been necessary.
"Sorry, Aunt Gayle. Sorry, Dennis. It was just a bit of a surprise," said Carrie.
Andrea added, "Sorry, Dennis. I don't know what boys usually wear but I think you're brave because you have to wear those."
Carrie asked, "So what's the problem, Mums?"
"Dennis's joggers are made from the wrong material," she explained. "Look at his legs! Unfortunately his jeans won't dry for ages. Is there anything any of you can offer him to wear that is made of cotton? That includes you, Jennifer."
Carrie frowned. "I've got some denims but two of them are spray-on and the third would probably be too big. I'm not sure any of them are really denim, either. Sorry."
"How about other trousers?" asked her mother. "Pedal pushers, slacks, leggings, anything like that?"
"I don't know what material any of those are either, Mums. They are probably too big for him anyway." She smirked. "I have a few old cotton summer dresses that might fit."
"Carrie! Be serious!"
"Sorry, Mums."
"Andrea?"
"Don't know, Mother. What size is he anyhow?"
"Good point, sweetie. I'll go and fetch a tape measure."
The measure was duly fetched and Dennis's waist measured. "Hmm. Twenty-three. Not very big. Carrie, you're right, yours would just fall off him. Andrea? You're next in size, got anything you could lend your cousin?"
Gayle commented, "I'll bet that anything Andrea has would be too small. Jennifer's certainly will be."
"Possibly not too small but certainly too short," Sylvia countered. "Although she is outgrowing all her clothes right now and a raid on the shops is imminent once they all go back to school."
"There is that midi denim skirt," Andrea suggested. "Don't you remember, Mother? It was too big but you said to wait until I grow into it."
"It's a thought, sweetie. And if it really is denim, that means cotton, doesn't it?" She turned to Dennis. "Willing to give it a go? You're stuck in a house with five females, nobody is going to object if you decide to try a skirt."
Dennis thought a little while but it looked like there were few other options. "Okay, Aunt Sylvia, I'll try."
"Go and fetch it, sweetie."
The midi skirt was so new it still had the labels attached. It had six panels and covered his legs to around half his calves. Gayle fastened the waist button and pulled up the back zip.
"There, how does that fit?"
"Having never, ever, worn a skirt before I couldn't tell you, Mum," he replied.
She nodded. "It looks as if it fits you fine, dear. I was a little concerned that you'd have bare legs but it is long enough to cover most of them. Your socks just about cover the rest. Will you wear it for today?"
"I suppose, Mum." Dennis turned. "Thank you, Andrea. I'll look after your clothes while I'm wearing them."
Sylvia smiled. "Dennis? Don't make promises you can't keep! Right, you three, thank you for your help, I need to take the labels off this skirt now. You'd better go downstairs and wait for Dennis to join you."
Gayle added, "Oh, and once the skirt is off Dennis will want to put ointment on those marks. He won't be down until it has all soaked in."
"Yes" Sylvia agreed. "Wouldn't want to ruin the skirt on its first wearing."
Once downstairs again Dennis gingerly lowered himself to the carpet, finding that skirts had to be handled differently. He carefully spread out the hem, watched by the three girls.
"What do you think?"
"Feels weird. I thought it would be like shorts or something but it isn't at all. I'll get used to it, you lot did."
"Welcome to our world," said Carrie. "Well, let's get on. We were half way through our game, we should try to finish it before lunch."
Dennis remembered his drink and picked it up, noticing an omission.
"Hey! Where's the other biscuit?"
Three bland faces looked back at him. "Don't know," said Carrie. "Maybe the cat had it."
"You don't have a cat!"
* * *
Lunch was awkward. Dennis quickly figured out how to sit at the table in a skirt, after all, he had all these role models around him doing it all his life. Actually preparing and eating food was another matter. Fortunately it was sandwiches for which he had to sit and watch, red-faced, while his mother put them together. Once that was done he could just about eat the finished product by himself.
Fruit was another matter. Again, Gayle had to cut up his oranges for him to eat with a fork, and a banana had to have its skin started before he could handle the rest.
Gayle looked at him and frowned. The skirt she didn't mind, that was just the same clothes that every female wore when they ate food, but the gloves were another matter. They were definitely hampering his ability to do almost everything.
"How do your arms feel now?"
"Good, Mum. I don't think I've had to scratch for a while now. Maybe these gloves are a good idea."
"For you, maybe, but the rest of us have to run round looking after you," she pointed out. "I can bear it for a day or two but I don't think that sort of glove is going to be a long term answer."
"I would agree, Mum. These aren't designed for actual use, just for looking good on a stage, after all."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Sylvia disagreed. "Remember, these were meant to be authentic Regency accessories so young women of that time would certainly have worn something very similar. Though of course any girl who could afford to wear them would probably have had either a sister to help out or a lady's maid."
"Point taken, Aunt Sylvia, but these are different times."
"Too true."
"What do you four plan to do this afternoon, then? Anything yet arranged?"
Carrie answered, "No, Mums. Why, is there something you want one of us to do?"
"No, it's just that with all the washing and that coming down outside I'm going to need to put up some racks in the living room. That means that you won't be able to watch telly or sit on the floor like you did this morning."
"Oh, that's okay, Mums, we can go upstairs." She grinned at the others. "I'm sure we can find something to occupy us?"
"All right, then. I'll call you down when its time for a drink."
The four duly gathered in the cousins' crowded bedroom, which had a single bed either side and a chest-of-drawers and a wardrobe at the foot of each. A big vanity table was squeezed between two bedside tables at the head end, underneath the window. Carrie and Andrea sat on Carrie's bed while Dennis joined Jennifer on Andrea's bed.
"So what can we do while we're up here, then?" he asked.
"It's going to be awkward," Carrie replied. "We can't play many games and there's no room for a telly or any computers so we can't do any of that. Actually, I just had a thought, I was going to show Jennifer how that new make-up looked."
Jennifer asked, "The one from Boots?"
"Yes, that's right, I found it the Saturday before last, it is a new range, I wanted to wait until this weekend to try it. But it's going to be boring for Dennis."
"Why?" Andrea asked. "He's up here with us, he can join in, he's half girl already."
"How do you work that out? Oh, you mean the skirt?"
"And the gloves... and the knickers!"
Carrie asked, "What do you think, Dennis? It'll be something to do and you might learn something to your advantage. Boys often say they don't know why girls do certain things and now's your chance to find out why."
It was a bit sudden but there was a certain inevitability about it. He was stuck in a house with five females, after all, he already had a skirt on and nobody was going to see what he did, were they? He wasn't sure how interested he would be but otherwise the afternoon was going to be boring.
"Well, I don't know how interested I'm going to be but I don't want to spoil things for the rest of you. There's very little else I can do on my own and nowhere to do it anyway. I don't know what you have in mind but I'll do it, only there will have to be some rules."
"Rules? There will have to be, I suppose," Carrie agreed. "What, then?"
"First, you remember that I'm only wearing all this because my skin objects? I have to be careful what goes on it and I know that make-up and stuff could cause a reaction."
"Fair enough. One reason I got this new range was because it is supposed to be super hypo-allergenic. I think that means it shouldn't have anything in it that would cause a reaction. You have to remember, Dennis, that us girls have more delicate skin than you... well, than most boys anyway. Anything else?"
"Well, you can't do anything permanent. At some point I'll have to go back to school and I don't want to end up looking like a fairy. Um, it's the reactions from everybody else that concern me, really. So no eyebrow plucking, hair cutting or piercing of ears."
"Makes sense. I don't think we can do much of that anyway. We certainly can't pierce your ears for you!"
"Third, whatever you plan to do, you have to do it properly. I don't want to end up looking like a clown."
"We have no intention of making fun of anybody, Dennis. This is about seeing if the new range works. However, whenever a girl tries out something new like makeup there's always a chance it isn't going to work. That's one reason we end up with so much of the stuff. If it goes wrong then we wipe it off and have another go. That's what we do, isn't it, girls?"
There was a "Yes," from Andrea but Jennifer asked, "You'd really do this with us, Dennis? It isn't like you."
He shrugged. "I haven't got anywhere else to be and couldn't do anything there if I did have. This looks like it might be kinda interesting and I don't want to spoil the afternoon for the rest of you."
"All right, then," Carrie said. "I think I'd better show Jennifer first, since that was what I was going to do anyway. Dennis can watch and learn." She smiled at Dennis. "Then we'll have to talk about the next step."
* * *
Dennis had had his face cleaned and made up four times before Carrie was satisfied. That was partly because, as she told him, "Your face has a different base colour to your sister's so it needs different shades to bring out the best in it. The shape is also different, which means putting tones in different areas."
He stared at the apparition in the mirror of the dressing table. He was still recognisably Dennis to himself but anyone who passed him in the street might not think so. They certainly wouldn't assume it was the face of a boy either. It was unusual to have so much plastered all over his face but he had previously managed a small part in a school play so it was not a novel sensation.
"All I have to do now is not to touch it," he said, turning to the others. "That would normally be very difficult but with these gloves I have to keep away anyway."
Carrie was examining him in a very concentrated fashion. "Hmm. With that face the rest of you could do with some tweaking," she said finally. "As it is you look like something from Frankenstein's slab, not one thing or another but a mash-up of boy and girl. It's unsettling."
"Tweaking? You know I said -"
Carrie shook her head. "I don't mean I want to start plucking your eyebrows or anything, it's more your hair styling and the clothes you're wearing. That top won't do for a start. It's too big and the shades don't go with the rest of you."
"You want to take it off?" He was alarmed. "You're not making fun of me?"
"Absolutely not! You're an honorary girl for the day so we have to make you at least look like one. Dree, got any tops we could use?"
"Suppose so. Are you going to get make-up all over them? I wouldn't be too happy if that happened."
"We'll be careful getting things on and off," Carrie reassured her sister. "The last thing we need is a mess to clean up or more washing for Mums."
They very carefully lifted Dennis's camo tee shirt over his head, avoiding his caked face. Once off, a much smaller tee shirt with a bigger neckline went on instead. Carrie looked at the result.
"What do you think, girls? Does that work?"
The replacement was a very pale blue that did, as Dennis admitted to himself, match his skirt much better. The material seemed to be much softer than any of his own tee shirts and he appreciated that. It also seemed to do something interesting to his face. Who knew that what colour your clothes were could change what make-up you needed to put on?
"Okay," said Carrie. "That looks much better, shows off your figure - not that you'd want to show off your figure like that normally, of course."
"Of course," Dennis agreed faintly.
"We can't do much with your hair but maybe we can try brushing it around different ways. Will you let us do that?"
"I suppose so. I'd be interested to see what you can do with it."
"Well, if you'd had it cut as short as some of the other boys, that would be nothing at all," Carrie told him. "As it is we have a fighting chance at a short style." She grabbed a hair brush. "Hold still, now."
After a while she stepped back. The result, as seen in the dressing-table mirror, was interesting. His hair felt funny from the way it had been brushed but it made it stand out and was very definitely not boy-like.
"I didn't know it could do that," he admitted. "There's a girl looking back at me in the mirror."
"Well, almost," Carrie cautioned. "Stand up and look at yourself in the wardrobe mirror now. See anything missing?"
Dennis stood and turned. Carrie had managed to perform a miracle on unremarkable Dennis and what appeared to be a girl stood in his place. There was something missing and he - she - raised a hand to her chest.
"Right," agreed Carrie. "Are you up for the next challenge?"
"You mean... bras, don't you?"
"Yes and no. Almost all girls have something to show up there and a bra is the best way of holding something up there if you haven't got them naturally. Only problem is, I don't think that any of us are likely to have a bra that will fit you."
He turned and looked at the others with a new perspective, concentrating on their chests, specifically their chests underneath their breasts.
"I guess you're right. Can you prove it, though?"
"We can measure you. It is probably a good idea anyway."
The top was pulled up and his chest, just below the missing organs, was measured.
"Twenty-five. About what I thought. Mine are going to be too big and I know Jennifer's are going to be too small. Dree?"
"Nope. Mine are twenty-two and they are tight on me. Mum says I am due for another fitting." Andrea had another idea. "It doesn't have to be a bra, does it? All we want is something we can pad to roughly the right shape and it isn't going to need much padding anyway. How about a crop top? I have a couple I wore when the weather was much warmer."
"That's brilliant, Dree! Fetch one out."
There followed a complicated operation where the pale blue top was carefully removed so that the stretchy crop top could be put on underneath it. Some balled-up and roughly shaped school tights went into the front and then the blue top was lowered carefully back over it.
Carrie inspected his face. "No damage done, thank goodness, and I think we missed the top."
She stood back and eyed the overall result critically. "Not bad at all. Can't do much about your trainers for now but they don't scream boy at me. They'll have to do." She smiled. "Want to look at the result?"
He turned and looked at the wardrobe mirror. Since he knew what had been done, to him it was still Dennis in there, but Dennis in a surprisingly effective disguise. To someone who did not know him, it would have seemed like a girl, no doubt at all.
"That's really good," he told them. "I did not expect it to be so easy to make me disappear and a girl to take my place."
"Easy? Only partially," said Carrie. "A different boy and three other girls might have made a right mess of doing this."
"S'pose you're right. I don't think I'm ready to go outside looking like this yet. I'd just freeze, and I don't mean from the cold."
"That was never the intention, Dennis... I suppose we'd better start calling you Denise while you're like this? It's just a bit of fun that girls often have when they are together with some free time. We often fool about with make-up, fiddle with each other's hair or try on each other's clothes - assuming they fit, of course." Carrie added, "Oh, how's your skin? Got any itches?"
"From what I had earlier, there's nothing," he reported. "I'm not sure about what's in the things I'm now wearing up top, we'll just have to wait and see. Which raises the question, how long do I stay like this?"
"That's up to you, Denise. Unless you suddenly start breaking out in lumps you could stay like that the rest of the day if you want. It's not as if we'll all need to change to go out somewhere later - and you can't do that anyway, not with those gloves on your arms. If you think it's all a bit too far for a boy then we'll help you take it all off right away, no problem."
Jennifer said, "But he'll have to keep the gloves and the skirt on anyway."
"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten that! What do you think, Denise? Had enough or go for it?"
"I'm actually getting comfortable dressed like this," he answered. "I still can't do anything I couldn't do before, so I'd be no worse off, but I'm wondering what our Mums are going to say."
"Possibly not very much," Carrie thought. "After all, you already wore a skirt to lunch. I suspect they might just go along with it. Your choice."
"Go for it, then," he said, drawing a deep breath. "So, what's next?"
* * *
"Girls! And Dennis!" the voice called up the stairs. "There are drinks down here for you. Do you want me to bring them up?"
Carrie looked at Dennis. "Up or down?"
"Down. Have to do it eventually."
Carrie went to the bedroom door and called back, "We'll come down, Mums!"
The four trooped downstairs and into the dining room, where the drinks stood on the table with a plate of assorted biscuits. Sylvia was waiting for them and eyebrows were inevitably raised.
"Well! It seems that I can't leave you lot alone for a minute! Who have we here?"
"Mums! This is Denise, of course."
"Oh. Right. Den, uh, Denise, you did this of your own free will?"
"I actually did, Aunt Sylvia. It was pointed out that I was half dressed as a girl to start with, and there wasn't much else I could do with these gloves on, so the experiment wasn't going to cause any problems... was it?"
Sylvia smiled. "Not to me, it doesn't, but then I'm not... Denise's mother. Gayle? Got a moment?"
Gayle came through the dining room door and stopped. "That's an interesting look, Dennis."
"Denise, Mum, while I'm like this."
"I suppose you are, at that. Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Denise? Maybe in private?"
He grinned at his mother, which looked extremely cute in his present form. "It's just a bit of wet-weather fun, Mum. I don't think I have any long-term ambitions to swap sides."
"Oh. Very well. You plan to stay like this for the rest of the day, then?"
"If you'll let me. It is interesting for any number of reasons."
"And you want to get the full flavour. I understand. Very well, then, assuming Aunt Sylvia agrees. It is her daughter's clothing you are wearing, after all."
"No objections here, Gayle. It could be an interesting change in the dynamic."
"Then I have no objections either." She gave him a look. "If you're to be my daughter, if you were not wearing those silly gloves I'd have you helping me in the kitchen!"
"Yeah," Carrie said. "There are downsides to being a girl, Denise. Be thankful you aren't suffering any of them."
The mothers went out talking and the four sat at the dining table, reaching out for their drinks.
"Oh. Is there anything special I have to do while I'm drinking this?"
"Not really," Carrie replied. "We didn't put any lipstick on you because I was worried it would go everywhere, so you just have a little bit of lipgloss on. Inevitably it'll come off on the glass but that happens to all of us. If we were all out, say at the mall, with full warpaint on, then we'd have to take precautions. You don't need to worry about any of that."
"Me? At the mall? I've been a girl for about an hour. If I wanted to go that far, and it is a very big if, I'd first want to get used to doing things like this, as Denise. That's not something I'd pick up quickly, you all have such a different set of mannerisms, of walking, of doing everything. That would take time we don't have. We're only here on holiday, after all."
"Chill. That was only a for-instance. We're just stuck in a house having a bit of fun, that's all."
"And I have to admit it, I wasn't sure at the beginning, but I am having fun now."
* * *
The four were setting out the table for dinner - well, three were, the fourth was doing as much as the gloves let him - when the man of the house came home. Sylvia had just handed a stack of plates to Dennis when he stuck his head around the dining room door.
"Hello, Syl. Not a good day today but everything seems to be holding. Hello girls - and who's this?"
"This is your other niece Denise. She turned up today, I don't know how long she'll be staying."
"Oh. Hello, Denise."
"Hello, Uncle Phil."
"Yes. Well, if you'll be staying I'll expect the same behaviour from you that I get from my daughters, understand?"
"Yes, Uncle Phil." The other three girls giggled.
He turned to Sylvia. "Do I want to know?"
"It's complicated and relatively innocent, Phil. So far. I don't think it's going to be a problem." She reached up and gave him a kiss. "The roast is okay in the oven if you're not too long, I just have to finish off the veg. Say half an hour."
Shaking his head, he backed out of the doorway. "Whatever you say, Syl."
The meal began well enough but disaster struck part way through eating the main course. A fork was fumbled in a gloved hand and gravy-covered beef fell onto a denim lap.
"Oh, no! Sorry, Aunt Sylvia. I thought I was going to be all right."
She jumped up, as did Gayle. "That's all right, we should have made allowances for your arms. Wait there, I'll go and fetch a damp cloth."
As Sylvia disappeared Gayle said, "I should have thought ahead and asked for an apron, Denise. Can you scoop that meat up?"
"I think so, Mum."
In a short while the meat in question had been eaten and the front of the skirt dabbed mostly clean with a damp cloth. Dennis sat for the rest of the meal with one tea-towel on his legs under the skirt to keep them from the damp denim and another on top of the skirt to catch any more spills. That did not prevent all the others watching him closely to make sure that nothing else happened.
He was glad when they were finished and were able to leave the table. The racks had been moved from the living room so everyone could relax in there - as much as they could. Gayle removed the tea towels and inspected the skirt closely.
"Syl, I think he can wear this the rest of the evening. It has mostly dried off and there's no point him changing now."
"Fair enough. What's the damage like? Is it clean enough to wear tomorrow? You already know there isn't much else available."
"No. It is dry enough and there is no excess food here to fall off but there is a stain. Sorry, Syl, more washing for you, and it's denim again."
"Yeah, well, what's one more item in the washing basket? We'll leave tomorrow until then, I think, maybe he can put his jeans back on."
"Hmm. We'll see."
After a short silence Phil asked, "Is somebody going to tell me what is going on? Suddenly Dennis is a girl and you all seem to have no problem with that."
There were giggles from the girls. Gayle said, "It is a combination of unlikely circumstances, Phil. I'll tell you all."
Gayle explained what had happened, which Phil didn't seem to quite believe but had to accept.
"Well, it's something to do on a wet Sunday, I suppose." He waved a finger at the four. "Just remember there is a boy somewhere under that outfit! I know you are all sensible but we don't want accidents, do we?"
Two responses of, "No, Dad," and two of, "No, Uncle Phil," along with some icked-out expressions.
"Now we've got that over with," Gayle said to Dennis, "it's probably time we took those gloves off and let your arms have some air... although, thinking about it, maybe you can spread some more ointment on them and leave them to dry naturally before bed."
"That's a good idea, Mum. That way I won't get anything on my pyjamas tonight."
"That was the point, yes. Why don't you go and fetch down the ointment and then I'll take your gloves off afterwards? That way we'll avoid any more accidents."
Dennis went upstairs and returned with the tub. Gayle then unpeeled the gloves, revealing his arms for the first time in hours.
Andrea giggled. "He looks even more like a girl now!"
Sylvia said, "Yes, well, don't embarrass the boy any more, Dree."
"I'm not embarrassed, Aunt Sylvia," Dennis responded, "I'm long past that point. It's okay to call me a girl, seeing as I look like one for now."
"If you insist, Denise. Are you going to put the ointment on now or just stand there?"
Gayle said, "Hey! That's my line!" She looked at the gloves, examining their condition. "I think you can probably wear these tomorrow, Denise, but no longer. Most of the ointment went in your skin and I can see very little on the gloves themselves, except down at the finger end. These are not meant to be worn for long periods. We might have to think of something else if this rain doesn't let up."
Sylvia added, "Don't worry for now, either of you. I'm sure we'll manage. Phil, how was your day?"
"Well, you know there are three reservoirs up Barnsdale? All three are completely full but the situation is holding for now. The middle one, Harrowby Reservoir, was looking a bit strained so -"
* * *
"What on Earth have you got on under here?"
"A crop top, Mum. Carrie decided I couldn't look like a girl properly unless I had the right shape."
"And she was right, wasn't she? You looked very presentable. Let me ease this top over your head - Oh, I see. What is it stuffed with?"
"Some old tights, I think. It felt funny walking around with those out in front of me, I can understand why some girls poke them out."
"Some girls poke them out because they have to," Gayle said. "Let me lift this up... yes, tights, old school ones by the look of things. Close your eyes... there. Now you can put your pyjama top on. Where was I? Oh, yes. Tights weigh nothing but real breasts can be really heavy, Dennis. We have to carry that weight around somehow and it can affect a girl's balance, especially when she is growing and they are changing all the time. That may be why some stick them out."
"I didn't think of that, Mum."
"Why would you need to? There, ready for bed. Anything itching? What about from all the things you wore today?"
"Nothing so far, Mum."
"Right, then, I'll leave you to your book. Don't read too late, now."
"No, Mum."
"Good night, then, Dennis. You are Dennis at the moment, aren't you?"
"I am, Mum. Good night."
As the rain continues Dennis finds that his options have become less and less. Time for a left-field solution, one which leaves him wondering if he is doing the right thing.
Scratch!
an amusement by Penny Lane
2 of 3 - Bank Holiday Monday
Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story
are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing
copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2022 Penny Lane.
All rights reserved.
"Aaargh!"
Dennis had woken up drenched with sweat and scratching at places he had never scratched before. Something had changed overnight and for the worse. Blearily he unzipped his sleeping-bag and staggered to his feet. The tiny high-level window to his small boxroom suggested that it was early morning - and still raining.
He made his way to the bathroom and took care of the most immediate requirements. Once his hands were clean he took off his pyjama top and looked down at his body.
"Oh, no," he moaned. "At this rate I'll have used up all the ointment and end up looking like something from the Mummy's tomb. Mum's not going to like this."
He put his top back on and headed out onto the landing.
There was a call. "Dennis? Is that you? What's happened?"
He pushed open the door of the guest bedroom and entered the darkened room. His mother was sitting up in the double bed she was sharing with his sister Jennifer. Gayle switched on her bedside light.
"What is it? More rash?"
"I think so, Mum. A ring right around my chest, where the bottom of that crop top was."
"Oh. You sure it is a rash and not just where the crop top was too tight at the bottom?"
"Well I never thought it was too tight, Mum. It felt comfortable all day. Look!"
He pulled up his pyjama top and the faint red mark was clearly visible, even in the reduced light.
"Oh. There must have been something in it to cause that," she said. "I wonder... Can you go and fetch it in, please?"
"Of course."
Dennis left and fetched the crop top from his room. On the landing he met Phil on his way to the bathroom.
"You're up early, er, Dennis? Who exactly are you this morning?"
Dennis pointed to his chest. "If I have bumps up here, Uncle Phil, then I'd be Denise. Otherwise I'm Dennis."
Phil nodded. "Makes sense. What are you doing up so early?"
"More scratching, Uncle Phil. Looks like this thing," he held up the crop top, "isn't as good as we thought it might be. Mum's trying to find out why."
"Oh. I'll let you get on, then. See you at breakfast."
By the time he returned to the guest bedroom with the crop top Jennifer was sitting up and yawning.
"Sorry to wake you, Sis, but scratching don't wait for anyone."
"'Sall right, Den. It isn't long before we have to get up anyway."
Gayle took the top and turned to examine it under the bedside light, looking for a label but not finding one.
"That's no help," she said. "Can you turn on the main light, please, Dennis. Sorry, Jennifer, I want to look properly at his chest."
With the main light on Gayle made Dennis remove his pyjama top, after which she examined his upper body all round.
"That's strange. I would have thought you'd have marks all over where the top had been but there's only that line around your chest."
She had another look at the top. "Oh, yes, look here," she said. "It looks like it has something in the rib at the bottom to keep it in place. But without a label we won't know what it is."
"Oh. So I won't be able to use it today to hold padding, then?"
Gayle smiled. "You seem somewhat anxious to continue your time as Denise, don't you? Are you sure you're not enjoying this too much? Have we let loose a monster?"
"Hardly, Mum. We'll go home and this will just be a holiday memory. I don't have plans to be anyone but Dennis once we're back in Shoreham."
"Hmm. Like Sylvia said yesterday, don't make promises you can't keep! Very well, it looks like you'll be eating breakfast in your pyjamas, which, seeing as it is a bank holiday, is perfectly acceptable. Once we've all eaten then we can work out what to do next."
"Yes, Mum. But the itching? I think I'll need the ointment before breakfast."
She contemplated the options. "I can do your arms, of course, but what about that line? And your legs? If I do those you'll just be in your underpants-which-aren't-really-underpants."
"Good point, Mum. Uh, just do my arms, then. I'll just have to put up with the rest until after breakfast. I'll go and get the ointment and the gloves."
* * *
As they assembled for breakfast Gayle asked Phil, "They giving you the day off, then?"
He snorted. "I shouldn't be working on a bank holiday but nobody told the weather that. Officially I'm off but I'm also officially on call. If the weather worsens, well..." He shook his head. "I'll have to go."
Sylvia came in with a pile of toast. "It doesn't look as bad outside as it did yesterday."
"No, but the ground's completely saturated now, whatever comes down today has nowhere to go. You'll notice that it hasn't, actually, stopped raining, just slackened off somewhat."
"I had, Phil, and it's a nuisance. I have whole machine-loads of stuff that need drying and if it stays like this much longer it will all go mouldy."
"That washing machine mechanic couldn't get to us until Thursday, you know that."
"Let's not argue, Philip. We're all running out of clothes and Dennis is being hit the hardest."
"I thought he was looting the girls' wardrobes."
"It may come to that. Unfortunately, he's the wrong size to all three girls so we're very limited in what we can offer him."
"Well, he looked fine to me as a girl so if that's what it takes, use whatever you can. Nobody's going to see him, not in this weather."
Dennis had to wear a proper cook's apron with a bib for breakfast and he was informed that he would be wearing it every time he had to eat with the gloves on. Needless to say, he did not drop anything at all on it.
After breakfast Phil had the inevitable call. "Got to go, honey. They want to open the sluices at Harrowby, remember I told you last night? And they need me there."
"Any idea how long?"
He shrugged. "You know how this works, Syl. I'll try to get back for this evening's dinner."
After he departed the others gathered in the living room.
"Okay," Sylvia asked, "What do we do about Dennis today?"
"Better check the jeans first, Syl."
"Of course." She waved a finger at the teenagers. "You lot stay here for a moment or two while we sort through the washing to see if there's anything dry enough."
In the small utility room Gayle fingered Dennis's jeans. "The bottoms of the legs are dry but the body part of this one is still damp and the waistband hasn't dried at all, being so thick."
Sylvia held another pair. "Same here. It's a shame, really, but when things go wrong they certainly let you know about it."
"Yep. I had a feeling this would happen and I've been trying to think of a solution and getting exactly nowhere."
"Our mother used to put things in the oven to dry."
"Yes - and we couldn't get the taste of damp cloth out of our meals for days afterwards! Just no, Syl."
"Perhaps you're right. Oh, here's that midi skirt - it's still damp. If I had known what today was going to be like I might have thought twice about washing it."
"It needed doing, Syl. Never mind. Let's go and tell the kids the good news."
"...So you see we can't use anything that has been washed in the last few days. Dennis needs clothes and it looks like they have to be of cotton. Can anyone think of anything else he might wear?"
There were blanks looks all round. "Fat lot of help you all are - that's not fair on Dennis." Sylvia added, "you did well enough yesterday. I wonder... we still have some material around, I could get out the sewing machine. Dennis would have to stay as he is until perhaps lunchtime, I might be able to run up something for him by then."
Gayle asked, "Material, Syl? Are you sure you have any that is all cotton?"
Sylvia's face fell. "Well, thinking about it, probably not. Most of the things I've made recently have been cotton-polyester or artificial fabrics. I know! There are some old cotton sheets in the airing cupboard, I could make him something out of one of those. It would do, surely?"
"I'm not so sure, Syl. Cotton sheeting isn't that thick, after all. You could make him an under layer of some sort, just to keep other materials away from his skin."
"But then I'd have to find a pattern with sleeves and legs, Sis. I probably have some but they are likely to be of smaller sizes, I haven't done anything like that since..." She tailed off, trying to remember.
Carrie spoke up. "Mums, you don't have to do any of that, we already have such a garment and it will almost certainly fit Dennis."
"Really? What?"
Carrie pointed. "The costume those gloves came from, Mums. Don't you remember, there is a chemise that went under the gowns and the whole lot is pure cotton."
"Well, yes, you're right, but doesn't that just move the problem on? As I recall that chemise is full length and it is still just a thin layer of cotton. What could he put over it?"
Carrie hesitated and then said, "I'm almost afraid to suggest this, Mums, but Dennis really hasn't got anything at all to wear, has he? If he's wearing the gloves from the costume and he puts on the chemise from the costume, then maybe he ought to be wearing the rest of it. That would certainly keep him warm."
Sylvia's eyebrows shot up. "You're suggesting that we dress Dennis in a Regency gown? That he would wear all day?"
Carrie just shrugged. "I can't think of anything else, Mums."
Sylvia stared at her daughter in disbelief. "I am amazed at your suggestion, Carrie. There wouldn't happen to be anything behind it, perhaps after yesterday's fun?"
"Mums, no! I can't wear that costume any more because it's too small now and nobody has suggested anything else Dennis could wear. I'm just saying that the costume does fit the requirements, physically at least. Whether he'd want to wear that I don't know."
Dennis licked his suddenly-dry lips. "What are we talking about, here?"
"It is a proper Regency gown, Dennis," Sylvia explained. "Or at least a modern reproduction of one. When Carrie's school decided on Pride and Prejudice for their end-of-year play I volunteered to make some of the costumes including, of course, hers. Since I didn't know exactly what was going to be needed I made a complete set of all the possible parts needed for her. Oh! I know, I'll show you the patterns."
She got up and left, going into the dining room and returning with a large, thick white envelope in each hand.
"Look! These are the possible dress options and those are the underpinnings that go with them. I made Carrie that one," she pointed, "not the cross-over style one, in two versions, a short sleeved version for the ballroom scene and a long-sleeved one for the rest of the play. I remember now, there were absolutely yards of material to handle, but it was fairly easy to make each one."
Dennis took the envelopes and looked at the illustrations on the front. "These are just ordinary dresses of that day, then? Not fancy shiny stuff?"
"Shiny stuff? Oh, you mean satin and silk? No, nothing like that, Dennis. This is what the daughters of an impoverished gentleman would wear but not what, say, upper-class ladies would wear nor what farmworker's wives would wear. It's all made of pure cotton and I remember Carrie said it kept her quite warm when she wasn't on stage."
"Of course," Carrie added, "when I was on stage it was more than warm! But on stage you'd be warm whatever you wore."
Dennis nodded. "Been there, done that, Carrie. Mum? What do you think?"
"Mmm. I remember Carrie wearing the gowns now, I don't think you were that interested in the photos three years ago. You talked about experiments yesterday, well, this would certainly be a different one! Dennis, I have no objection if you wanted to have a go but nobody is forcing you. Girls like trying on all kinds of different things but I know that boys don't do things that way. It is up to you."
He thought for a while. "I suppose. It isn't as if I have a lot of choice, is it? I was a girl for part of yesterday so it isn't so big a leap from that to this. Can we go and see the actual gowns, Aunt Sylvia?"
"Of course, Dennis! Carrie?"
"Yes, Mums. Follow me, folks."
"Just a moment!" Gayle called as the others stood up. "Whatever Dennis is going to be trying on, he needs to be clean. When did you shower last, Dennis?"
"Uh, Saturday morning, Mum, before we went out, if you remember. I haven't done it since because I've either needed to put ointment on or it was before bed when I didn't want to wash it off and start the whole cycle going again."
Gayle nodded. "I know, Dennis. It is awkward for you having to have your skin plastered with gunk all the time. But if you're going to be wearing other people's clothes I think you could go and make yourself clean first, even if we have to lard you up again afterwards."
Dennis grimaced but the logic was solid. "Okay, Mum, I'll go and do that now. Meet you in the girls' bedroom?"
"Yes, please. That will give us time to find what we need and see if it will be suitable. Oh. Come here first, I'll need to pull those gloves off."
When Dennis reached Carrie and Andrea's bedroom he found both mothers and Carrie there. Hanging on the front of the wardrobes were four garment bags. They were opaque so he couldn't see the contents but the array looked impressive.
"I still can't believe that you made all those, Syl," Gayle remarked. "It looks like a lot of work!"
"Well, it was, but we had long summer evenings and the different items weren't that complicated. Look, I'll get the gown out first, then Dennis can see what we're talking about."
Sylvia unzipped a long bag and pulled out a pale pink gown. The material was plain but there was a red ribbon sewn under the bustline. It had a wide neck and short puffy sleeves which were also edged in red. The skirt fell from the red ribbon all the way to the floor.
"I like it," Gayle said. "If I had any use for such a thing I'd ask you to make one in my size, Syl. As it is I'll just have to dream. What do you think, Dennis?"
He shrugged. "It's a dress. It looks like it would keep me warm enough - except around the neck area."
Sylvia was firm. "It's a gown, Dennis, not a dress." She frowned. "Though I'm not entirely sure what the difference is. Carrie, there's supposed to be a little thing that fills in the neck, isn't there? Which bag is that in?"
"It's called a chemisette, Mums, and it's over here."
It was made of white cotton and looked as if it had been cut out of the top part of a shirt, although the material was much finer. There was a soft collar and cloth ties to keep it closed.
Carrie held it up. "It goes around your neck and keeps the draughts off. Mums thought I might need it but it was warm enough that I didn't. Mums, I think he'd have to put the dress on first and then tuck this in afterwards."
"If he needs it. Dennis?"
"You talked about an underlayer, if I remember rightly."
"Oh, yes. Carrie, if you wouldn't mind."
The underlayer was called a chemise, made of finer cotton and was floor-length but had little structure at all. With it Carrie brought out a much smaller item.
Gayle asked, "What's that? A Regency bra?"
"Practically," Sylvia answered. "They didn't have bras then so this is a set of short stays, but the purpose is just the same. It is worn over the chemise and under the gown to give the right lift - but of course Dennis hasn't got anything to lift." She considered. "He can't use the crop top again and tights aren't going to cut it, Sis, not in this style. While you're preparing your sacrificial victim I'll go downstairs and see if I can rustle up something more appropriate."
Gayle raised an eyebrow. "Sacrificial victim?"
"The ointment, Sis. Look, he's already rubbing his arms again. I didn't mean that we were going to chain him to a rock or introduce him to a Minotaur or something."
"Gee, thanks, Aunt Sylvia!"
"My pleasure, Dennis. If we couldn't laugh about all this we'd be in a sorry state - and you'd be in a worse state."
"I know it, Aunt Sylvia."
Gayle asked, "What else are we going to need, Syl, before we begin this?"
Sylvia studied the garments which various people were holding and shook her head. "I think that's it, though we'll need to change Dennis's footwear. The tread on those trainers will rip the hems to shreds in no time."
"I might have something, Mums," offered Carrie, "though it wouldn't be Regency."
Sylvia flipped a hand. "They'll spend a lot of time hidden under the hem so I don't think that's important, Carrie. He's not doing a play. Let's see what you've got."
Carrie had a lot of shoes and, as a growing girl, they were in a range of sizes, which was fortunate. Heels were obviously out, though Sylvia did say, "If the hem is too long he might need a little something." They finally settled on an old pair of ballet flats, which as it happened were in a shade that just about toned with the gown.
"Right, then. Carrie, you and I had better leave now so that Gayle can attend to Dennis. You can join the others or help me find something to give that gown the appropriate shape."
"Yes, Mums."
The two left and closed the bedroom door. Mother looked at son.
"This is a big leap, Dennis. Are you sure this isn't going to upset you or cause you problems?"
"It's not something I would normally do in a million years, Mum, but after yesterday I'm a bit more open minded about what I might have to wear. Still, this is further than I would normally want to go - I did think I might have ended up with one of those summer dresses that Carrie mentioned."
"Hmm. I don't really think that it's warm enough for a summer dress, Dennis, although she might have one of those long tiered ones with the puffy sleeves." She shook her head. "No, that wouldn't work anyway, that style is new enough that any she has would be too big for you. Besides, we'd be gambling with the fabric again."
"Oh, you're right, Mum."
She gave him a hopeful look. "Now, after what you did yesterday, I'm really interested to see what you can make of this gown. If it doesn't work then you can take it off straight away and we'll say no more. Will you do it for me?"
"Of course, Mum."
"Aaaand, once we've tried it out and you're happy, then you'll have to take it all off again so we can cover you with ointment."
"Oh, yes, of course."
Gayle smiled at her son. "This is the life females lead, Dennis. We're forever putting things on and taking them off again, sometimes it can be hard to get everything right the first time."
"Yeah. I found that out yesterday with the make-up."
"Right, then. I guess the chemise comes first."
He stuck out his arms and Gayle threaded the volumes of fabric over them, then over his head. Once settled on his shoulders the rest fell towards his feet. Gayle leaned over to see how far down the hem was, rising with satisfaction.
"Good, It looks like the outfit will be neither too long nor too short." She grinned at him. "That means you won't have to wear heels or have your legs trimmed."
"Very funny, Mum. You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Of course I am! For a brief while I can treat you like my daughter and do things I won't be able to do with Jennifer for several years yet. And no, I haven't gone crazy, I haven't forgotten the reason we're doing this, it's just that it is turning out to be a little more enjoyable than I thought it would be."
"I suppose." Dennis looked down at the billowing expanse of white. "What comes next, Mum?"
"The short stays, I guess. They are like a front-fastening bra but without modern fixings. You put it on like a waistcoat and then I'll have to thread the laces for you."
Dennis put his arms down and behind so that Gayle could pull up the short stays. As he held the front parts together while she settled the shoulder straps he remarked, "I could lace this up by myself, Mum."
She snorted, walking around to his front. "You can now but only because you're a boy, Dennis. Any female who needed the use of these wouldn't have been able to see any of that part." He blushed as she continued, "That's why your sisters, a maid or your mother would have to do it. Females always help each other dressing and undressing, we have to because some of the clothes are just plain awkward by ourselves."
"Then why didn't women find simpler things to wear?" he asked.
"In the main, we did," his mother replied, "though it took hundreds of years of trying! But we wear a lot more different kinds of things than men do and some of them still involve a bit of a wrestle or just plain help." She gave him a small smile. "It's a girl thing and besides, it's part of the fun of dressing up."
"If you say so, Mum."
The short stays were laced and tightened and Gayle pronounced them to be exactly the right size for Dennis, despite the two obvious omissions. The next step was the gown itself, which went on the same way as the chemise had.
"This feels enormous!"
Gayle eyed the result critically. "You're right, Dennis, and I have no idea what to do next. Time to call in the cavalry."
She opened the door and went onto the landing, calling downstairs. Carrie hurried up.
"What's your mother doing, Carrie? I need some help with this, it looks wrong."
"Can I see? Is he decent?"
"Of course. We got everything on but there's no shape to it."
"Oh, of course. If you'll let me, I'll show you how it goes."
Carrie followed Gayle back into the bedroom. "Mums said this pattern is designed for a wide range of sizes... and conditions, like pregnancy or time-of-the-month." She giggled. "At least Dennis doesn't have to worry about either of those! Here, look, there are drawstrings either side -"
There was a bit of pushing and tugging and Dennis partially zoned out. He was getting used to the strange feel of the gown and was surprised that it felt so comfortable. The two layers trapped the heat and there was very little touching most parts of his body.
"Oh, and then there's the neckline," Carrie added. "This has a drawstring too, you just -"
A new voice came from the doorway. "You could have waited two minutes more, Carrie. I had just about finished."
"Sorry, Mums."
Sylvia came in with a small lump wrapped in blue plastic in each hand. She gave one to Gayle.
"I remembered, I found an old jar of risotto rice in the back of the cupboard a while back. I was going to throw it out for the birds but forgot. It's just the right thing for this job, though."
"What have you done with it? What's this?"
"Freezer bags. I tied a knot in the lower corner of each one and then turned them inside out. I measured the same amount of rice into each and then knotted the bag."
"Oh, I see, so the bag is inside out. Here, Dennis. Let me put these inside for you."
Gayle opened the drawstring neckline and placed the bags inside, gently shaping them before tightening the drawstring and tying a bow. This was also tucked inside, giving a smooth appearance.
"It all fits him beautifully," Sylvia remarked. "Even the length is right. What do you think, Dennis?"
"They're heavy."
"Huh! You didn't think we all walked around with tights inside our bras, did you? Breasts are real flesh, kiddo, and most weigh a lot more than your pair. Imagine carrying those around on your chest for the rest of your life."
"Even so," his mother added, "almost all women would do anything to have a decent pair, it's what women want to validate themselves as a woman. But we have little control over what we get and we just have to put up with the results."
"Uh, too much information, Mum?"
"You made the comment, we explained why they have weight. Besides, they make the front of the gown sit right now that they are in."
"Anything else?" Sylvia asked. "Shoes, Carrie?"
The shoes were fitted and he stood in front of the wardrobe mirror. A young Regency girl looked back.
"It's fine, Aunt Sylvia. Mum?"
"I'm almost afraid to say how pretty you look, Dennis. It's not what a boy wants to hear, is it?"
Carrie said, "Mums, Aunt Gayle, he still needs his hair doing and a very little bit of makeup."
"That's true and it will just make the illusion that much greater," Sylvia replied. "Right, Sis, so I suppose that you now have to take it all off again and smother him with ointment."
"We do, Syl. Ah, what about the chemise? I can't see how we can avoid getting at least some ointment on it."
"That's all right, Sis." Sylvia pointed at one of the other garment bags. "There should be another chemise in one of those. The stage production was over three days so I had to allow for cleaning and accidents. Dennis? Are you fine with doing this now you've seen what's involved? It's going to be a weird day for you."
He shrugged. "Yesterday was weird, Aunt Sylvia. Today Denise is just acting a part."
"That's the spirit, kiddo. Come on, Carrie, let's leave these two to sort themselves out."
* * *
Dennis followed his mother slowly down the stairs, his gloved hands holding up his skirts either side so that he did not trip on them. His hair had been brushed, combed and sprayed in a different style to yesterday, something that Carrie said looked "more Regency". He now had a fringe, but with the 'no-cutting' rule it looked ragged - or winsome, depending on your point of view. There was a certain amount of make-up on but very much less compared with the day before.
When he entered the living room Sylvia was waiting with her phone ready. Jennifer stood beside her, mouth open. Andrea was still seated the other side, but her expression was more reserved.
"Do you mind if I take some photos to remind us, Denise?"
"I'm not so sure, Aunt Sylvia. I mean, they could get around -"
Gayle said, "Syl, photos but only for yourself and your family to look at. You daren't put them on social media, Dennis would get so much stick he'd probably top himself."
"Are you sure, Sis? He doesn't look anything at all like Dennis now, does he?"
"It's connections, Syl. They'd be linked to you and, given the dates, people can add two and two and get two dozen very easily, you know that. And once that's happened there's no going back."
"I hadn't thought of that, Sis. Very well, Denise, I'll keep them on the phone and maybe get one or two prints to put in an album, that's all. Would you be happy with that?"
"Suppose so, Aunt Sylvia. Mum's right, if anyone at school found out I'd be a dead man."
Gayle was getting her own phone out of her bag. "I'll take some as well, Denise. The same applies, these will stay on my phone and go nowhere else." She tilted her head. "It's a shame that your hair isn't quite long enough. You haven't any wigs about the place, have you, Syl?"
The two started taking pictures while they talked, the flashes going off several times.
"No, Sis. Of course, Carrie had all her own hair to style then, same as she does now."
"But there is a bonnet, Mums!" Carrie remembered with excitement. "Shall I go and fetch it?"
Dennis's eyes widened with horror. "A bonnet! No, please, this is bad enough."
"It would set his face off properly," Sylvia said thoughtfully. "Regency girls would wear their hair up when they wore a bonnet, so the fact that he doesn't actually have long hair would be concealed. Denise? How about it? Just for the photos, perhaps?"
He sighed and his shoulders dropped. "All right, Aunt Sylvia, but only for the photos. I'd look silly wearing a bonnet around all day."
"Bonnets wouldn't be worn indoors normally," Sylvia explained. "Unless you were going somewhere special like church. Go and fetch it, Carrie."
"Could you turn a little, Denise? Perhaps a quarter. And link two of your fingers together. Oh, just like that! Hold still a moment. Now turn just your head to face us. That's great."
Carrie came down carrying a cardboard box. Opening it, she brought out the bonnet, which was wrapped in tissue paper and had crumpled newspaper inside to keep the shape. Once she had cleared all that she handed it to Gayle.
"Oh, I like that! It sets off the gown very well, doesn't it?"
Sylvia responded, "It's actually made to go with the other gown, Sis, but it will do fine for our pictures."
"Yes. Hold that a moment, Syl."
After passing over her phone she brought the bonnet to Dennis and arranged it on his head. He had a look at it before it disappeared out of sight. The basic shape was a U-shaped construction which went over his head and covered both ears. It was padded and the outside was covered with a fabric which he remembered was the same as that of the other gown, which he had only briefly seen. A wide purple-brown ribbon dangled from each side. At the front was a crescent shaped visor-like piece which, he supposed, was designed to frame his face. At the back was a soft bag-like arrangement. He put up a hand to feel it.
"That's where your hair would be, if you had any long enough," Sylvia told him. "My God! You do look sweet like that."
Gayle tied the ribbon under his chin in a neat bow and then stood back. "Mmm. I think I agree, Syl. If he were a real Regency girl he'd be beating off the suitors already."
"Heh. He'd be locked in a garret with Daddy standing outside with a shotgun, you mean. Here's your phone, Sis. Let's take advantage of the moment while we have it."
"Oh, yes, absolutely!"
More pictures were duly taken, in various poses, and then the two mothers decided that they had tormented Dennis enough. As they put their phones away he attempted to undo the large bow of the bonnet, but couldn't see what he was doing and the material kept slipping through his gloved hands.
"Mum?"
"Oh, here, let me help you with that."
Sylvia turned to Andrea. "What's the matter, sweetie? You don't look happy."
"It's stupid, getting Dennis to dress up like that! He's a BOY!"
"We had noticed, sweetie. Now perhaps you'd like to explain what else there is in the house he could wear? He can't spend all day wandering around with just a blanket wrapped around him."
"Besides," Gayle added as she pulled the bow apart and lifted the bonnet off, "any blankets you have here would probably be the wrong material. Or had you overlooked that point? What Dennis has on now fits him, is made entirely of cotton and he tells me it is quite warm and comfortable. In different circumstances I would put on something like he's wearing like a shot."
"But he's a BOY! It isn't right. You're just making him look stupid."
"In case you hadn't noticed, Andrea," Sylvia said, getting a little heated, "It has been raining for the last five days and we've all been stuck inside for three of those. We're not going outside, not even to the shops, and we aren't expecting any visitors. Dennis is comfortable wearing the gown and that's all there is that he can wear. Nobody else is going to see him except us. Nobody else thinks he's stupid. So pipe down and put up with it. Nobody is asking you to wear anything you didn't want to."
Andrea knew that tone of voice. "Yes, Mother. Sorry Dennis."
"It's okay, Dree," he responded. "Like Mum said, there isn't anything else and I'm fine dressed like this. It's an opportunity for me to have an experience that would never normally happen to me. When we go home I'll be back to normal again."
"Right," Sylvia said to them all. "Flouncy time over? Now you'll all have to go up into the girls' bedroom again this morning, I want to see if I can at least get a pair of Dennis's jeans dry today."
"Yes, Mother."
"Yes, Aunt Sylvia."
* * *
The four trooped upstairs again, Dennis very carefully, and entered the girls' bedroom. Andrea immediately went to her bed, pulled her pillow up and sat up against the headboard, using the pillow as a cushion. She leaned over and grabbed a book from her bedside table. Carrie and Jennifer sat down together on Carrie's bed. Dennis sized up the situation, remembered what he was wearing and walked over to the dressing table. He pulled out the chair, turned it around and sat down.
"Why are you sitting there, Denise?" asked Carrie.
"I didn't want to sit on a bed and sort of slouch like you two are doing, I'd put creases in the gown or something," he replied. "Besides, I somehow feel as if I ought to sit the way a Regency girl would, and this chair is comfortable enough for now." He added, "It's funny, I feel like I want to do things a different way now I'm dressed like this."
"That's a female secret," she explained. "One reason we wear so many different kinds of clothes is because they can affect the way we think and feel. I remember feeling just the same way when I wore that gown. You wouldn't believe the boost you can get from just wearing the right dress, or shoes, or whatever." She grinned. "Or, maybe, considering the way you're going on, perhaps one day you will."
"Ah, no, Carrie, I don't think I'm going down that route. This is just a bit of holiday fun and if it helps stop me scratching all day then that's a bonus."
She tilted her head. "I thought it was the other way around? You're wearing that because you're scratching and there's nothing else available?"
"Yeah. Whatever. When I go home it'll be over and finished. What happens in Barnsley stays in Barnsley."
There was a mutter from the other bed. "I still think it's stupid."
Carrie sighed. "Oh, don't start, Dree. What's got into you anyway? What do you care what Dennis wears?"
"It's hard to explain," Andrea replied, lowering her book. "I know the reasons why he's doing it and I'm sort of okay with that but there's something that just doesn't feel right about the whole thing. Seeing him dressed like that makes me squirm."
"Ah, so it isn't Denise after all, it's you!"
Andrea's face had an uncomfortable look. "No. Yes. Maybe. Look, just let me read my book, will you?"
She turned away and focused her attention to her book, which Dennis now noticed was a Harry Potter. He turned back to face Carrie.
"I don't know if it would bore Jen but there are a couple of things you could tell me about while we're here, Carrie. One is what happened in your stage production and the other is Pride and Prejudice. Um, the book, I mean. I know absolutely zero about that period, really."
"I assume that means you haven't read any Jane Austen?"
"Of course not. I've always assumed that it was chick lit."
"Yes and no. Jane Austen was writing about two hundred years ago, long before chick lit became a thing. She was just writing about the world she lived in. In those days girls and women were almost property, the same as farm animals, and had to be carefully raised and presented so that some unsuspecting man would take them off their parents' hands. It's a bit like arranged marriages, that sort of thing. Most of the time love didn't come into it. Pride and Prejudice centres around the Bennet family, who have five daughters and not much money. There is an estate but -"
* * *
Three girls, plus one 'girl', trooped down the stairs just before lunch. Dennis went to find his mother, who was in the kitchen with Sylvia preparing the food.
"You're a little early," his mother remarked, "we're still sorting out the food. Oh. Did you want those gloves taken off so you can go to the toilet before we sit down?"
"That's part of it," he replied. "I wondered if I could just leave the gloves off for this afternoon, let my arms get some air."
"Well, why not? Just so long as you feel warm enough. Here, let me wipe my hands and help you with those gloves."
Sylvia asked, "How are you getting on with that outfit, Denise? It can't be anything like you're used to."
"Understatement of the year, Aunt Sylvia! Now I have adjusted to the way it needs to be worn I am surprised at how comfortable I feel, actually. I wouldn't want to wear something like this all the time but," he nodded thoughtfully, "it's just right for what I need today. I certainly get why girls like dressing up like this."
"And grown ups!" his mother added. She pulled off the second glove. "Let me have a look at your arms while you're standing under the good light. Mmm, those look much better than yesterday, don't they?" She ran a thumb over the reddest patches. "There's still some roughness around the elbows, so it's not over yet, but what we're doing seems to be having the right effect. Let's leave the gloves off and see how you feel later on. It'll certainly make eating your food easier!"
"Yes, Mum."
"What about your chest?" Gayle gently tapped the bright red ribbon stitched under his bustline. "Is this causing any trouble there?"
"Don't think so, Mum. That crop top ended up a little bit lower than that line so it shouldn't rub and I haven't noticed any itching around either line."
"That's good. Sounds like the Hydrocortisone cream is working, then. Pity there's so little of it left."
"Yes, Mum. Uh, now I think I ought to go, if you know what I mean."
Sylvia called, "Are you going to need help, Denise? That's a lot of material to manage over a toilet seat."
He reddened. "I think I can manage, Aunt Sylvia. Regency ladies must have, mustn't they? There's not enough room for two in the downstairs toilet anyway."
"I didn't mean -" she began but he grinned at her and turned to go.
"Make sure you wash your hands," his mother called as he left.
When he got back Sylvia had gone into the dining room and his mother was pulling a stack of plates from the cupboard.
"How did you get on?" she asked.
"Okay, mostly," he replied. "I had to work out a scheme to hold it all out of the way while I wiped. I can't imagine how they did it in Regency times. Half the time they wouldn't even have had proper toilet bowls!"
"True. We sometimes forget how convenient modern conveniences really are. While you had your skirts up, so to speak, did you happen to look at the state of your legs?"
"Um, I didn't really notice, Mum. Too many other things to worry about."
She put the plates on the kitchen table and walked around. "Would you mind if I did a quick lift-up and look?"
"I suppose so. Where's Aunt Sylvia?"
"She's taken some food into the dining room. I'll be quick."
Gayle quickly lifted the skirt and chemise up and made a brief inspection of his legs before moving round the other side to do the same. At that point Sylvia reappeared.
"Ooh! Can anyone have a go?"
"You embarrass your own children, Syl, if you want to, leave mine to me! I'm just taking a look at those marks on his thighs while I have a chance."
Gayle suited action to words by lifting the other side up. "It all looks much better than it did yesterday," she announced with a frown. "I wonder what's going on? It's almost as if you have two different problems here, the long-term thing with your arms and a newish allergy reaction."
Sylvia said, "Poor Dennis - Denise. Coming out in lumps the moment someone so much as looks at you. All this can't be much fun for you."
"It's not what I expected when we came up here for a holiday, Aunt Sylvia. To a point I'm beginning to enjoy the change, though."
"See? I told you this might happen. Now, are you free to give us a hand laying the table?"
Gayle said, "I was just about to ask him to take those plates through, Syl."
"Of course, and he can manage easy enough without those gloves on. Go on, Denise."
"Yes, Aunt Sylvia."
As he turned to depart with the plates she said, "Come back when you've done that, Denise, you'll need to have the apron put on before you can eat."
A sigh. "Yes, Aunt Sylvia."
Sylvia turned to Gayle. "Isn't he different dressed like that? You'd barely know it was the same person."
"He still looks like Dennis to me, Syl. A well-behaved Dennis, I'll admit, but then he can't be much else dressed like that."
"Still if it gives him an insight into what us girls have to go through it can't be all bad, can it? I'm sure there are some busybodies around who would be screaming child cruelty right now."
Gayle's eyebrows rose. "In Barnsley? I thought they'd be all for it, if it stopped their lads from hanging about on street corners and worse."
"You're right there, Sis." She giggled. "Can you imagine all the local lads togged out like that? Oh, look, the peas are done, time to dish up. Can you grab that bowl for me?"
"Sure, Syl."
* * *
Dennis couldn't resist scratching his arms during lunch. Gayle spotted him doing it and he hadn't even realised that he was doing it!
"Oh, no. Dennis... Denise, you need more ointment on those arms after we finish."
"What?" He looked down to see what he was doing. "Oh, right. Ngh, it's so difficult to not scratch!"
"I know, dear. Just... try to keep your hands away from your arms while you're actually eating, that's all. There's no point washing your hands to eat if you're just going to touch skin with ointment on, is there?"
"Ew. No, Mum, you're right."
Sylvia got up and fetched a tissue. "Here, Denise, wipe your hands clean on that. I'm sure you're going to be all right, after all, that stuff is going into you anyway through your skin, isn't it?"
Gayle cautioned, "That isn't the same as eating it, Syl."
"Yes, well, other than making the poor boy go and wash his hands every five minutes a tissue will have to do for now."
"I could always put the gloves back on him. That would stop any getting in his mouth." She paused. "Probably."
Dennis objected. "Mum, no. Now I know I'm doing it I can stop myself." He scrubbed his hands with the tissue, paying particular attention to his fingernails.
"All right, then. But afterwards I think we'd better lard you up again and put the gloves back on. That will protect you both ways, won't it? Sorry, Denise."
"I know, Mum."
Before putting the gloves back on Dennis after lunch Gayle turned them inside out to inspect them.
"Hmm. Look, Denise, even though much of the ointment has gone into your arm there's still a fair amount staining these gloves."
He peered at the gloves. "Oh, yeah, Mum. Maybe..." He thought. "Looking at where the marks are and what we've been doing, I'm wondering if it's areas where I've been sweating. See? The palms, inside the elbows and right at the top."
"I think you're right, Denise. Still, that's one reason you were wearing the gloves at all, wasn't it? To stop the stuff getting everywhere. I think you'll have to wear them for the rest of today, except perhaps at dinner time, but after that they will need to be washed." Gayle rolled her eyes. "Yet more washing! I hope that washing machine can get fixed soon or it's going to get difficult for all of us."
He pondered. "So what do I wear tomorrow?"
She gave him a smile. "Well, let's see what gets dry today and will be available for you to wear tomorrow. I think at least one pair of your jeans should be okay. Have you enough tee shirts to go with it?"
"I still have that camo one I started out with yesterday, Mum. It only got worn a couple of hours."
"Fair enough, but are you just going to put your sweatshirt on over it like you did yesterday? I'm not sure that's a good idea. Look, just wait until tomorrow and we can see what's available."
"Okay, Mum."
* * *
The afternoon started out awkward again. Andrea sat up on her bed as before and buried her nose in her Harry Potter. Carrie and Jennifer sat on Carrie's bed and Dennis again chose the dressing-table chair.
"We were talking yesterday about me doing Pride and Prejudice," Carrie began. "Seeing the way you're dressed, Denise, have you had any thoughts about going on the stage?"
"What, me? It depends. I have a little bit of experience as an extra but that's all. If it meant I had to wear costumes like this all the time then I'll pass, thanks."
"Well hardly! There might be the odd occasion when an actor has to put on something unusual but you'd be doing boy parts not girl's parts. Oh, unless you're an all boys school?"
"Yep. But the girls' school is right next door and, whenever we've had school plays we get some of the girls over to take those parts. Our boys go over there for their school plays."
"Oh, right. See? Unless you're doing a panto or some play where a boy has to pretend to be a girl for part of it, you wouldn't have to dress up like this, and anyway it would be unlikely to be a Regency play. What I meant was, you've now had a little experience of acting a part."
"I suppose." He wrinkled his nose. "Now you've put the idea in my head I might think about it."
"That's all I wanted to know. You're still all right dressed that way? When I wore those it was fine to start with but got a little sticky towards the end - but then, I did spend part of the evening under stage lights."
He shrugged. "I'm good, Carrie. It's different, of course, but I don't have a screaming urge to tear it all off." He grinned. "Yet. Ask me again at the end of the day."
Andrea slammed her book shut and threw it onto her bed. "You shouldn't be wearing that at all! It's ridiculous!"
The others turned to look at her in amazement.
"What's got into you, Dree?" Carrie asked quietly. "You've been acting funny ever since this costume was suggested."
Andrea scowled. "I don't know. Leave me alone. Can't you find something else to talk about or do?"
"Well we're a bit limited right now, Dree. We can't do much else because of the rain. If you actually came and joined the rest of us then we might find something to talk about."
"Oh, all right. But no Regency talk."
So they talked about many different subjects but Andrea didn't look directly at Dennis again all afternoon.
* * *
"Oh, that's better, Mum."
Gayle had removed the long gloves so that Dennis could prepare himself for bed.
"What's up? Did they start annoying you somehow?"
"It's difficult to say, Mum. They were perfectly okay to begin with but unlike yesterday they just seemed to get tighter and tighter as the day went on."
"Hmm. But you did wear them all day yesterday, didn't you? Today it's been part of the morning until lunch, then you took them off and began scratching again. Then for most of the afternoon. Still, I doubt that you can wear these tomorrow, Denise. It will be a good idea to let your arms have a bit of freedom for a while."
"Well that depends what there is to wear doesn't it? I'm resigned to wearing something strange tomorrow if that's what it takes."
Gayle looked fondly at her son. "I must say, you're taking this rather well considering. A different boy might have flat out refused or had a complete meltdown."
"Heh. Ask me again tomorrow evening, Mum."
"Right. Let's get this gown off you, then. I have to loosen these ties and then I should be able to pull it up and over your head. Ready?"
"Go for it, Mum."
Gayle carefully lifted up and almost immediately stopped because of the resistance. She lowered the gown.
"What's causing the problem?"
"Uh, I think you'll have to remove the fake boobs first, Mum. Oh, and there's another ribbon in the neckline that has to be loosened, if I remember right. It all seemed complicated when it was put on me."
"Well Sylvia and Carrie put it on you this morning - oh, yes, I see now - and they might have done things I didn't notice. After all, I'm hardly the world's greatest expert on Regency wear."
With everything loosened and the breast pads removed, the gown came off easily. Gayle surveyed her son.
"That chemise looks good enough to wear as a nightie, Denise."
"Mum! Just no."
"If you say so. Just making an observation. Do you need help? Oh, I'll unlace these stays for you first."
With the stays out of the way Dennis pulled the chemise over his head, leaving him in just his school-issue dark green knickers.
"Brr! It's not very warm now I've taken that off! Can I get into my pyjamas straight away, Mum?"
"Well, let's just take a moment to have a look at all the damage. Let's see, your arms I know about, they will probably not even be visible by the end of the week."
"On past experience you're right, Mum."
Gayle bent down and surveyed his chest and back. "That looks good. It was worth using the last of the Hydrocortisone cream on that, it has almost disappeared already."
"Yeah, well, I haven't noticed anything from that area or my legs today, once we found out what was happening."
She bent down. "These areas still look pink but, like your chest, are already fading. Providing you don't go near those jogging bottoms again you should be fine by tomorrow."
"That's good news, sort of. I just hope the jeans are ready by tomorrow."
"Yes, but, don't take it for granted that they will be. There's a lot of damp clothing downstairs and it's all over the place. Who knows what will be dry and what won't?" She picked up the gown and the chemise. "I'll take these and hang them up somewhere to try and get some of the creases out. You've done well today, Dennis."
"Thanks, Mum."
"I'll leave you to get ready, then. Don't forget to clean your teeth."
"Of course, Mum. 'Night Mum."
"Good night, Dennis."
The rain eases but Dennis finds out that his clothes are still not usable. After a fruitless search for something to wear, he once again becomes a Regency Miss. This time, however, he discovers the limitations of the attire of the time. Then an unexpected visitor arrives...
Scratch!
an amusement by Penny Lane
3 of 3 - Tricky Tuesday
Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story
are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing
copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2022 Penny Lane.
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When Dennis had woken the following morning something had changed that threw him for a while. It was quiet. He could not see out of his tiny window but the sky looked brighter. Maybe..? Stumbling - and scratching - onto the landing he paused at the window at the top of the stairs. Yes the rain had, indeed, stopped, though the whole scene still looked completely saturated. He couldn't look for long since his bladder had other priorities.
In the bathroom he did his business then pulled his pyjama top off once more, dropping his bottoms as well. The marks along his legs were still there though mostly faded, as was the ring across his chest. None of that itched. Unfortunately his arms looked and felt as though someone had waved a blowlamp across them. Not good news. He re-dressed and walked out onto the landing.
"Dennis?"
He pushed open the door to the guest bedroom and looked in. His mother was already sitting up in bed with her light on. As he entered Jennifer pushed past on her way to the bathroom.
"Mum? You're awake early."
"You're late, you mean. How are things this morning?"
"I had a look in the bathroom. The legs and chest, well, you can still see the marks but they are already fading."
Gayle nodded. "You were only exposed to the crop top and those bottoms for a small part of Sunday, it isn't surprising that your skin is already getting over the shock. What about your arms?"
"Worse, Mum."
He pulled up the sleeves of his pyjama top to let her see.
Her lips pursed. "Yow. That doesn't look good, does it? Itch much?"
He gave her an old-fashioned look. "Duh, Mum. It itches like crazy."
"Oh, my poor boy. Whatever are we going to do with you?"
"Dunno, Mum, but I think I need some ointment right away, even before breakfast. If I take the pyjama top off and put a tee shirt on, can you help me do it now, before we go down?"
"I suppose so. That would mean that the ointment would be almost dry by the time we finish breakfast, that might give us some more options for things you could wear today."
"Unh. I'm almost okay with the idea that I'll have to wear fancy dress again today."
"I don't know whether I ought to be more worried by that statement than by your rash, Dennis! Go on, go and get your tee shirt and the ointment while you have the chance."
* * *
Dennis came down to breakfast in pyjama bottoms and camo tee shirt, his arms glistening from the ointment.
"New look, Dennis?"
"Good morning, Aunt Sylvia. My arms were itching so I thought I'd get the retaliation in first."
"I see. That looks... sticky. Are you going to be able to eat breakfast like that? Are your hands clean?"
"There's nothing on my hands, Aunt Sylvia, only on my arms. Mum did them for me, she's just washing her hands now. Um, perhaps I ought to have an apron on just in case."
"You're being a bit, you know, sensible this morning?"
"I got some practice in yesterday. Uh, I don't think I can stay like this for very long, Aunt Sylvia, it isn't going to be warm enough. And I've no idea what's available."
"Ha. I thought it was women who didn't have anything to wear! Right, I can hear the others, let's get some hot breakfast into you to get you warm and then we can try and figure out what there is for you to wear."
Phil was already at the table and he jabbed the back end of his breakfast spoon in Dennis's direction.
"You don't look warm, lad. This house is usually fine but it's always cold first thing, whatever we do. How long will that lot take to soak in?"
"About an hour or so, Uncle Phil." Dennis frowned. "I don't remember seeing you yesterday evening, come to think of it. Did something go wrong?"
Phil grunted. "You could say that, lad. Oh, not with what I was sent to do, that went just the way we expected it to. No, the river Niss broke its banks just north of Bythorpe. It flooded a number of fields, several villages and more importantly the main road which was my way home. I had to make a sixty mile diversion to get back here and I had a call while I was doing that, to help out with the rescue work. Didn't get home until nearly three this morning."
"Oh, sorry to hear that, Uncle Phil. Does that mean they won't call you again today?"
"It depends." He swivelled and looked out of the dining room window. "If the weather keeps improving like this then probably not, but in my business you never know." He turned back and smiled. "I'm hoping for a quiet day, some of which I'll probably spend asleep."
"Ah, I get the message, Uncle Phil. But we were quiet yesterday and today will probably be much of the same." Dennis reddened. "Ah, have you been told what happened after you left yesterday?"
His uncle nodded. "Aye, and seen the photos. I'm really not sure what to think, lad - or should that be lass?"
"I can only say what I said before, Uncle Phil. Once we go home I have no further desires to do what I did Sunday or yesterday. As for today, I'm hoping that my jeans are dry but," he shrugged, "Mum says wait and see."
"Mums know best, that's for sure."
Jennifer was next but she had already seen the anointing. When Carrie and Andrea appeared both recoiled.
"Ew! It's the slime monster!"
"Good morning, Andrea. It's not really slime but from that distance you can't tell the difference. It will soon soak in."
Carrie asked, "Is that what you have to do all the time, Dennis?"
"Not all the time, no. Just when I have a bad outbreak. Most of me is healing nicely but my arms don't want to play along so far."
"No, they don't," agreed Gayle, joining them. "Morning, Phil. I hear you had trouble last night?"
"Yes and no, Gayle. Good morning. For what I was sent out to do, it all worked as expected. But -"
* * *
After breakfast Sylvia made an unfortunate discovery.
"I'm so sorry, Sis! I was sure I had turned these around so that the waistband would get the heat! As it is, the waistband is still damp - here, have a feel - while the legs can probably stand up on their own. It would be like wearing concrete pipes."
Gayle felt the waistband, then the legs and shook her head. "It's easy enough to do, Syl, especially with all this washing on racks everywhere. Could you perhaps steam those legs to make them soft enough?"
Sylvia shook her head. "Not with this thick denim, no. I've done it with thinner material but I'd probably just end up with damp legs as well."
"What about the other pair of jeans?"
"Still much as they were yesterday, unfortunately." The two sisters looked at one another. "At least there won't be any trouble getting Dennis into some of the alternatives now."
"That's assuming that we can find any alternatives, Syl," Gayle pointed out. "Yesterday was digging somewhat deep, what is there left he can wear?"
"You have a point. My girls aren't going to like what we have to do this morning."
"Mmm. Especially Andrea. I wonder what her beef is?"
"No idea, but I'm not going to let her disrupt everything today, Sis. There's been something going on there for a while now that I don't understand but for today Dennis has to come first."
"Agreed."
The girls' bedroom wasn't that big and six people in there did not leave much room to move.
"This won't work," Sylvia announced. "Look, we're going to have to go through both your wardrobes today to find something for Dennis to wear as there is literally nothing else available. I am sorry about that and I apologise since it is my fault the washing wasn't sorted out properly yesterday evening. Anyway, it means we'll be getting things out of both wardrobes and looking at sizes and labels, there will be too much stuff around for all of us to stay."
"Now Dennis of course has to be here and so do I and Sylvia," Gayle added, "but there's not enough room for all of us to stay in here. Jennifer, I think you'll have to go downstairs and wait developments, please."
"Of course, Mum. Aunt Sylvia, can I turn the telly on? There might be something to watch as it's holiday time."
"Yes, of course, sweetie. Just keep the volume down in case Uncle Phil has dozed off, okay?"
"Yes, Aunt Sylvia." The youngest of the four left the bedroom and headed downstairs.
Sylvia told Carrie and Andrea, "I really don't want to go through either of your wardrobes without the owners being present, it wouldn't be right. But even five in here is pushing it, so I'll ask each of you," indicating her daughters, "to step out while we look in the other one's wardrobe."
Carrie asked, "What if you don't find anything, Mums?"
Sylvia pursed her lips. "Worst comes to absolute worst, Dennis has to spend the rest of the day in his sleeping bag, but I don't expect that to happen. We must be able to cobble something together from what's in both of your wardrobes."
"It wasn't so easy yesterday, Mums."
"I know, but remember, you made that suggestion before we really had a good look at what was available. Now that we know that Dennis isn't going to freak out at what we might offer him, we potentially have a much wider choice."
"Hadn't thought of that, Mums. Do you want me to leave first?"
"No, let's do yours first, since you're the largest size of the four of you. I'm not sure we are going to find much in yours but you never know. So, Dree, if you wouldn't mind joining Jennifer downstairs for a while. You can come back up when Carrie comes down."
Andrea pulled a face. "Okay, Mother."
As she walked out of the bedroom the mothers exchanged significant looks, which Carrie caught.
"Mums?"
"I wish I knew what was bothering Dree, dear. She has been in a funny mood ever since we put Dennis in skirts but it isn't clear why."
"That's not quite true, Mums. On Sunday she was fine and even suggested what Dennis ended up wearing, but you're right, there's something going on there. Sorry I can't help you."
"So Sunday was fine but yesterday wasn't?" Sylvia mused. "Even stranger." She shook her head. "Let's get going! Poor Dennis is sitting there gently freezing while we discuss my weird daughter. Uh, my other weird daughter. Carrie, this is your show. What might you have for him?"
"Not much, I'm afraid, Mums." She pulled open both doors to her wardrobe and began rifling through the hanging garments.
"Ooh, that's a bit tightly packed, isn't it?" her mother noted. "I'm sure that you can find some stuff you aren't wearing any more or that's too small, make some room." She pointed to the garment bags at the end of the rail as an example. "We can bag it up and store it or pass it on, your call."
"That was the idea, Mums, but then certain visitors turned up."
"I suppose. What about those other dresses, then?"
They went through the whole wardrobe, finding that everything was too big, too short, too thin or the wrong material or style. Unfortunately Carrie had very little that had long sleeves.
"I usually wear a top, a cardie or that old denim jacket, Mums. These days dresses are considered a bit formal."
"For your age group, I'll grant you that. Things might look a little different once you start work - or start a family."
"Can't disagree, Mums, but I'm not doing either of those at the moment."
"So what about your skirts, then?"
The few that Carrie had were all too wide or too short or both.
Sylvia sighed. "I'd more or less expected this. Thank you, Carrie. You'd better go downstairs and swap with Dree."
Carrie closed her wardrobe doors, but not before saying, "Yes, Mums. You do remember there's another Regency gown in there?"
"I do and I'm trying not to think about it. Thanks, Carrie."
Carrie went downstairs and Andrea came up. When they went through her wardrobe it seemed to Dennis, though he had not thought about it before, that the two sisters had very different ideas about clothes. Andrea's skirts and trousers were completely different styles and colours to those of Carrie and the only dresses in her wardrobe were long, brightly coloured shiny items that were apparently bridesmaids dresses from weddings attended over the years.
Sylvia sat down on Andrea's bed with a thump, sighing. "Thank you, Dree. It looks like poor Dennis is out of luck - and, at the moment, in danger of getting frostbite. Gayle? What do you think?"
Dennis's mother pulled a face. "It's a real shame, Syl, but we should never have put Dennis in this position in the first place. Both you and I could have planned a little better." She held up a hand to forestall the impending response and added, "I know, Syl. But we're not helping Dennis by bitching over poor planning. What did Carrie mean when she said there was another gown in there?"
"You can't plan everything, Sis. What's the point in taking snow boots and a parka down to the beach in summer on the off-chance it might snow? This rain was far worse than anyone predicted. Dennis, the only thing in the entire house that might fit you today - other than badly dried jeans, that is - is the other Regency gown, the one with sleeves. It might require a bit more commitment from you if you want to try that on."
"At this point I don't much care, Aunt Sylvia," he replied. "Anything so long as it will keep me warm, and the one I wore yesterday certainly did that." He asked cautiously, "What do you mean by commitment?"
"Oh, it's just that the sleeves make it a bit more awkward to get on and off," Sylvia explained. "That means that, once it's on, it'll have to stay on, so there's no adding more ointment to your arms, for example, until tonight. Want to have a go?"
"This will mean more photos, won't it?"
Sylvia smiled. "Yes, kiddo, but they will be kept safe, I can assure you. What about the gown?"
"I can only try, Aunt Sylvia."
She smiled at him. "You're being very accommodating, I must say. Let me fetch it out for you to see."
Andrea, who had been standing behind her mother watching, suddenly said, "Oh, this is too much!" She stomped to the bedroom door and yanked it open.
"Hey!" her mother said sharply. "You come back here a moment! What's going on, Andrea? You've been acting peculiar ever since someone even mentioned Regency gowns yesterday. What gives?"
Andrea turned and there was a most conflicted look on her face. "I... don't know, Mother. It just feels... wrong, somehow."
Gayle glanced at Dennis, who was watching, and gave her head a slight shake to say, "Let's keep out of this."
"This isn't about Dennis, is it?" Sylvia asked her daughter. "It's somehow about you. Well, this isn't about you, it's about Dennis and he has nothing else to wear, you know that. So why are you kicking up a fuss about someone else's problem?"
"I don't know, Mother. The whole idea just gives me the creeps, that's all."
"Well, Dennis's choices are very limited today while yours certainly aren't! Go downstairs and wait there. I'll deal with you once we have got Dennis into something warm. Go on!"
Andrea slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs, quietly, with a look on her face that hinted at a future explosion - or implosion. Sylvia turned to Dennis.
"Where were we? Oh, yes." She went to the wardrobe and with difficulty pulled out the four garment bags from the crowded rail. "This is the one. Oh, and of course he'll need a chemise, short stays and the, er, padding from yesterday. He can have a new chemise, Sis, and stays. I think I'll gather all this together after you've gone home and get it professionally cleaned before we pack it away."
"Okay. I'll go and fetch the padding. Dennis? How are your arms? Dry enough to be putting on clothing?"
He poked and prodded a few places before running his fingers all over his arms. "Yes, Mum, dry as anything now. It's been a while since you put it on, after all."
When Gayle returned with the freezer bags full of rice Dennis had taken off his camo tee shirt and Sylvia had already helped him into the chemise.
"I didn't want him to get cold, Sis. Ah, here's the short stays."
The short stays were fitted, laced and the padding inserted. Sylvia opened another garment bag and pulled out the gown. It was a slightly thicker material than the ball gown had been, coloured a pastel mixture of purples, browns and other shades that merged and made a delicate pattern. The ribbon trim was the same that had been used on the bonnet.
"Now this is going to be a snug fit while we're putting it on and until it's adjusted," she warned. "Fortunately it stayed on Carrie until the end of each act she wore it in so there was no need for a quick change."
He assumed a diving position and the two mothers fed the sleeves over his arms. While the tops were the usual puffy arrangement the sleeves tapered rapidly down to his wrists. They then pulled and tugged the rest of the gown down but it just would not fit over his shoulders. His head remained trapped inside the cloth with his arms in the air.
"I was afraid of that," Sylvia said. "It was close enough on Carrie but Dennis must have shoulders just that little bit wider."
"Not that much wider, surely?" Gayle said. "Dennis, can you pull your shoulders together somehow? I know, bend forward a little and lower your arms. I'll make sure you don't fall over."
She put a hand on his chest and then pushed his back gently with the other one. As his arms lowered he found he could push his shoulders back and together enough that the gown slid into place with almost an audible pop. It was a matter of moments to rescue his head and pull the skirts down tidily.
As he straightened up Sylvia began adjusting the under-bust gathering and feeding the drawstrings around to the back. She lifted up the back and did something there before straightening up herself.
"There! That looks better, and it is a good fit, Dennis... Denise. I was afraid it was too small but it fits reasonably well. How do you feel?"
"Uh, it's okay, Aunt Sylvia. Oh, it's a little tight across the shoulders so it doesn't feel like the other gown but I don't think I'm going to be chopping wood dressed this way, am I? I like the sleeves, though."
The sleeves tapered down and went over the wrist, shaped to a point over the back of each hand. There was enough flexibility for him to move each hand around so he didn't think that there would be any problem doing things dressed this way.
"Did you have any problem getting your hands down there? Boys' hands are usually bigger than girls' hands by your age."
"Not really, Aunt Sylvia. Less problem than the shoulders, anyway."
Gayle tightened up the neckline drawstring, tied it and hid the excess inside. "Syl, remember it was three years ago that Carrie wore this, not the two years they are apart in age. We're just lucky that we're between growth spurts."
"Oh, yeah, you're right, Sis. Here, Denise, let me feel your shoulders." She had a good feel around the shoulder area. "Actually, it isn't too bad. I wondered if he had much wider shoulders, boys usually do, don't they? But it looks okay to me. So, let's get some shoes on him and join the others downstairs."
"Not so fast! Now he needs his face and hair doing."
"Oh, yeah. I'll call Carrie up."
* * *
Dennis made his way down the stairs following Gayle and Sylvia, his hands holding his skirts out of the way. He had discovered that the yoke across the back of the gown was strong and tight which meant that his shoulders were held back and his chest, with its two projections, stuck out in front of him. He realised that many girls would want to walk that way and accepted the limitation. His normal posture needed some attention, anyway.
In the living room were Jennifer, Andrea and Uncle Phil, the latter looking surprised and impressed by the figure who walked delicately through the door.
"That's amazing," he said to the arrivals. "I think that looks even better than when Carrie wore it, Syl. Are you comfortable, er, Denise?"
"Mostly, Uncle Phil. After all, I wore something very similar to this yesterday so I'm almost used to the way this works now. It's a little different to that one, though. It must be something to do with the long sleeves, though it's nice to have the sleeves and not those long gloves."
He nodded. "If you say so, lass. Done up like that I can hardly see any boy in there at all."
Dennis lifted his skirts and curtseyed. "Why, thank you, kind sir."
Everyone else apart from Andrea giggled. Sylvia said, "You did that perfectly, Denise. Are you sure that you're not going in for an acting career?"
"Don't think so, Aunt Sylvia. Even if I did I'd be more likely to be Third Spearman or something than a Jane Austen heroine. But, now I've done this I might consider it."
Gayle commented, "Swanning around in a gown isn't all of acting, Denise. You have to know how to, you know, learn scripts, follow stage directions and pretend fake emotions to order. If you want to do something like that we'll have a talk when we get home."
"Yes, Mum."
"Now," she said, "it's time for the dreaded photos. Carrie, we'll do some without the bonnet first and then you can put it on him for some more."
Carrie hefted the box with the bonnet in it and walked over to join her father. "Yes, Aunt Gayle."
The others got themselves out of view as the cameras came out. Only Dennis could see Andrea's look of disgust and fear as she turned her head away. The poses were very similar to those of yesterday.
Jennifer commented, "Your hair wasn't like that yesterday, Bro - or should that be Sis?"
"Yeah," he replied, turning for another shot. "Carrie convinced Mum that a careful trim of my fringe wouldn't look terrible when I went back to being a boy again." He nodded. "I think she was right, it's fine like this."
"Don't move your head like that, Denise!"
"Sorry, Aunt Sylvia."
After a few more shots the bonnet was unboxed once more and Carrie arranged it on his head. More poses were shot and everyone - except Andrea, who kept her face averted - pronounced the effort a great success.
"That should be all, Denise. You can take off the bonnet now."
"Thanks, Aunt Sylvia."
He reached up and grabbed the ends of the ribbon, finding it suddenly not so easy. He pulled the bow apart but then discovered that he could not reach further to separate the two ribbons from under his chin. In fact, he could just reach the tip of his chin with one outstretched finger but the ribbon was well out of reach. The combination of the tight yoke and the long sleeves meant that he could barely touch his head at all.
"Er, Aunt Sylvia? I can't reach!"
"What do you mean?"
He demonstrated but his arms were restricted both by the cloth and by the unyielding bosom of the gown padding.
"Oh, dear! Here, Denise, just a moment."
Passing her phone to Gayle she rushed forward. She quickly pulled off the bonnet and passed it to Carrie.
"What's the problem, dear?"
"I think the sleeves are too tight somehow, up at the shoulders, Aunt Sylvia. I can't reach upwards at all."
"Let me see."
Sylvia walked around the back and felt at various places, asking Dennis to move his arms at certain times.
"Oh. I see what's happened." She walked around to face Dennis. "I remember now. I don't know why, but I had a lot more trouble setting the sleeves in this than I did for the other one. I think it is because, with the short puff sleeves, exact position wasn't so critical. Your arms come out right away and there's less to stop them moving around.
"It didn't matter so much for Carrie because, as your Mum pointed out, when she wore this she was a year younger than you are today. Her shoulders weren't so wide. Still, I remember that even then she couldn't lift her arms up much more than you can now. Sorry, kiddo, I forgot about that altogether. I think that's just the way they made gowns in those days. After all, demure young ladies weren't supposed to go waving their arms about, were they? Question is, now you know that, do you want to keep it on or go and try and take it off?"
Dennis considered, already knowing what the answer had to be. "If I take it off, Aunt Sylvia, there isn't anything else I can wear, is there? Besides, like I said upstairs, I'm not expecting to do anything physical today. It'll be alright, Aunt Sylvia. I'll stay like this."
"Who are you and what have you done with Dennis? He was never like this!"
"Stuck, Aunt Sylvia, in both senses of the word," Dennis responded with a smile.
"Well, let's think about what you will need to do today. Eat, drink, use the toilet. If you can't reach your mouth, how are you going to eat and drink?"
Phil suggested, "Knife and fork, Syl. He can hold a knife and fork and they will reach his mouth. That takes care of the food. Drinking is going to be harder but he could use a straw."
"I suppose so. What about the toilet?"
"I have no problem reaching down, Aunt Sylvia, only reaching up." He grabbed his skirts and demonstrated by part lifting them. "Using the toilet won't be any different to yesterday. I hope."
"Very well. Sis?"
"I hadn't expected this problem today," Gayle admitted. "At least it will keep him out of trouble. Okay, we'll play it like that. Denise, if you get into difficulty today you must ask for help immediately."
"Yes, Mum."
Sylvia suddenly turned to her younger daughter. "And what's got into you? Dennis has got a problem and this is the only way we can fix it! Why should that matter to you?"
Andrea squirmed in her chair. She looked at her mother but still avoided looking at Dennis.
"It's wrong. I don't like - Dennis shouldn't be doing that! I can't -" she broke off.
"I have had enough of this! You won't tell us what is wrong, I don't know what the matter is. Maybe it's some kind of jealousy - or perhaps envy. Is that it? Do you think you should be wearing that instead of Dennis?"
Andrea looked as if she wanted to be physically sick, but she couldn't give an answer, merely shaking her head.
"I don't know what to believe, now." Sylvia's eyes glinted. "However, I'll not have you disrupting a family gathering like this, especially when poor Dennis is in such a pickle. Let's have a level playing field, hey? You will go upstairs right now, young lady, and change into the gold bridesmaid's dress you wore to Elizabeth's wedding in April. You will wear that today just as long as Dennis has to stay in his Regency gown. Do I make myself clear?"
Andrea merely nodded but her expression was terrible.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Go!"
She was sobbing by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs.
In the silence that followed, Phil asked quietly, "Is that wise, Syl? You don't know what's wrong but you're still punishing her."
"I'd hoped to get a reaction out of her but maybe she doesn't even know herself. Let's see if we can get any more out of her as the day goes on."
Carrie suggested, "Mums, you said a level playing field. Would it help if Jen and I changed into something fancy as well? I've got that gown I wore to the last school dance and I'm sure there's something in Dree's wardrobe that will fit Jen."
"So you're all dressed alike? Well, it has merit, Carrie, and you're showing thought for your sister. All right, you can go and have a look but not until she comes down - otherwise it could be bedlam. Sis? That all right with you?"
"I suppose so, Syl. If Jennifer plays along. Will you do this, Jennifer?"
"Of course, Mum. If there's something that might fit me."
"There should be," Sylvia said to her. "She has quite a collection going back years. They might not be your favourite colours but there's almost certain to be something that will fit you."
Phil asked, "Do you want me to put on a frock as well, Syl?"
The seriousness of the situation stopped Sylvia from laughing but she said, "Ah, no, Phil, I don't think that will be necessary. Maybe another day."
It was a few minutes before a tear-stained Andrea came down the stairs. The gold bridesmaid's dress was frilly and, although nominally long, was short enough to reveal matching gold t-strap shoes and some ankle.
"I look like a little girl dressed like this!"
"Well, if you behave like a little girl you can expect to get treated like one. Carrie, Jennifer, off you go."
The sudden change diverted Andrea. "Where are they going?"
"Carrie took me literally when I said a level playing field. They are both going to change into long frocks for the day."
Andrea burst into tears, took one look at her mother and launched herself at her father instead. He gathered her in and held her to his chest. Behind her, her mother threw her arms up and looked at Phil with exasperation.
At that moment the doorbell rang. Sylvia looked at Phil who shook his head. She went out to see what was going on as Dennis looked at his mother with alarm.
"Shh! Close the door, Denise."
There were two voices in the hallway which receded in the direction of the kitchen. The other voice was that of a man. Even Phil was now becoming concerned.
Shortly afterwards Sylvia appeared. "It's the washing machine engineer! Apparently he can't get to some priority customers because, you'd never guess, the roads are flooded, so he thought he'd come here first."
She looked around the room, sizing up the situation, noting the concern on Dennis's and Gayle's faces.
"The engineer is in the utility room for now, so you lot better disappear while you have the chance. Phil, take Andrea up and put her in our bedroom. Sis, Denise, I'd advise you to go up to the guest bedroom for a while otherwise there might be some awkward questions to answer. No, Denise, no-one will think you're not a girl, it's the costume which will raise eyebrows. Tell Carrie and Jennifer what's happening, won't you, Sis?"
"Of course, Syl."
Phil carried Andrea up as if she was a small child, even though her legs hung down to his knees. Gayle and Dennis followed quietly, all going their separate ways at the top of the stairs. Gayle went into the girls' bedroom to give them the news before returning to join Dennis in the guest bedroom.
"Well! That was unexpected. We'll wait up here until we get given the all clear," Gayle told Dennis. "What do you think is the matter with Andrea? I can't work it out at all."
"You're asking me to figure out the inner workings of someone I only meet perhaps twice a year, Mum? And she's a girl, as well, whatever I look like now. No idea, Mum, except..."
"Except?"
"It all seems to have something to do with the Regency gowns. Although, she didn't much like that gold dress either, did she?"
Gayle tried to work out some connection. "She was fine with you all on Sunday, wasn't she, when you were wearing a tee shirt and that denim skirt of hers."
"And I had the gloves on, Mum," Dennis reminded her.
"Oh, yes, but I don't think this about the gloves, Denise. Something's triggered her off somehow."
"Long skirts," Dennis said slowly. "Maybe she doesn't like long skirts? That one of hers I wore was, what do you call it? Mid calf. She was fine with that... only, it had never been worn, had it?"
"It's a thought. Perhaps she has something she doesn't like about that style of skirt..." Gayle tailed off as her thoughts wandered.
Dennis said, after a short pause, "I wonder, Mum. We had both wardrobes open while you were looking for something for me to wear. It didn't mean anything to me then but I did notice that Andrea's clothes were completely different styles and colours to Carrie's. Maybe she has different tastes? I mean, really different tastes? We have a girl in our school who has to wear uniform like the rest of us but the moment she's out of the gate she turns full goth. Maybe that's what is happening with Andrea."
"Maybe you're right," Gayle said. "Maybe she doesn't like shiny, flashy stuff, she'd rather be in, oh, I don't know, perhaps a hoodie and a grungy pair of jeans all the time. Teenagers go through phases, as I'm sure you are aware."
"Yep. Seen it in my own year. One minute they're normal, the next they have shaved all their hair off - but enough left to comply with school regulations, of course - and they have dozens of piercings."
"Yuck. I'm glad you haven't done that, Dennis. Mind you," she looked sideways at her son, "I'm not sure if this visit isn't giving you other ideas."
"I won't deny it's been interesting, Mum. I've learned more about girls and women than I probably ever wanted to know. It will likely make a difference how I treat them in future. But I have no desire to become one of them."
"Hmm. I wonder. Anyway, when I get a chance I'll have a word with Sylvia, maybe she hasn't spotted what could be, let us say, unusual style preferences in her younger daughter."
"Yes, Mum."
"And not a word about any of this to anyone, you hear?"
"I'm not stupid, Mum."
"Says the boy standing in front of me wearing a Regency gown." She smiled at him. "No, that's unfair, I do trust you that far. I wonder what's going on elsewhere?"
* * *
The washing machine engineer used the side way to get access to the utility room at the rear of the house, but this meant he could see into the dining room window. Lunch was therefore delayed until they thought he had finished and driven away. During this period the various youngsters remained upstairs, though Dennis did join Carrie and Jennifer in the girls' bedroom once they had changed. The mothers went downstairs and began laying the table for lunch by themselves. Andrea remained in her parents' bedroom until called down to eat.
She appeared in the doorway looking contrite.
"I'm sorry, Mum, Dad, for causing trouble. I'm sorry, Aunt Gayle, Dennis... Denise? Carrie and Jennifer, I made a fuss and I should not have."
She stood there waiting until Sylvia said, "Very well, Andrea. Come and sit down and eat your lunch. Perhaps we need to have a quiet talk about your problem, but not now. Do you mind sitting down with all of us while some of us are dressed up?"
"It's very good of Carrie to think of what she did. Sorry, Carrie. I'm better now."
Carrie gestured to Andrea's chair. "That's all right, Andrea."
They began to eat, Dennis finding that he could manage reasonably well with a knife and fork. Of course, he was also wearing a kitchen apron again. Part way through the meal there was a knock at the dining room door. Sylvia got up to answer it, waving a hand at the rest to keep quiet. She opened the door just enough to look surprised, to slip through and close it again.
There was a muttered conversation and then it all went quiet. Phil had a jolt and rapidly got up to draw the dining room curtains in case the engineer went past the window again. Sylvia came back in ten minutes later.
"Sorry about that. You were right, Phil, the heating element had gone. He hadn't finished, he had just gone back to the shop to fetch a replacement. So he has finished now, we're back up and running at last." She switched her attention to Gayle. "For starters I've put Dennis's two pairs of jeans back in, Sis, I'm going to do a rinse to soften them up, then a spin and tumble dry. They should be ready to iron by about five this evening."
"Oh, that's good. Dennis... Denise?"
"Might as well keep them till the morning, Mum, Aunt Sylvia. There's no rush now I'm like this."
Sylvia just nodded. "There's no sense in rushing if you don't want to, Denise. Enjoy yourself while you have the chance, that's what I say. The jeans will be ready then for you to wear when you go home tomorrow."
"Thank you, Aunt Sylvia."
* * *
"What shall we do this afternoon, then?" Carrie asked after the lunch things had been cleared away. "It might have stopped raining but I doubt anyone wants to go outside." She gave Dennis an apologetic smile. "Of course you can't go out looking like that, Denise! You'd get mud on the hem of that. So what else is there?"
He waggled his fingers like tentacles. "I have proper fingers now, so maybe we could play some card games? Or even Monopoly?"
Carrie looked at the others, resplendant in two different styles of bridesmaid's dresses, who nodded back.
"Okay, then. We'll just start with some card games and see how we get on."
An hour and a half later Sylvia came in with a tray of drinks and biscuits. She observed that they were all playing well together, even if Andrea still looked a little reserved.
"Here you are, girls. Try not to make a mess on those frocks, will you?"
She received suitable assurances and beat a retreat to the kitchen.
"How are they doing?" Gayle asked.
"Almost back to normal, I'd think." Her voice dropped. "I still can't figure Andrea out, though."
"Dennis and I had a little chat when we came upstairs this morning."
"Oh?"
"Yes. He has a theory that she doesn't like certain kinds of clothes. Oh, she might tolerate some of them on other people but not for herself. It's possible that even seeing some of them on other people has the implication that she could end up wearing them, so when she saw Dennis in the ball gown it blew her mind."
"What, oh, long gowns, that sort of thing? But she got unhappy when asked to wear that gold dress this morning. That's quite short." Sylvia thought for a while. "It's a thought, Sis, I'm surprised I didn't notice anything before. Perhaps she doesn't like girly clothes. We'll see what she'll tell us after you've gone."
"Fair enough. Oh, that's the washing machine! Has it finished, Syl?"
"Yep, but everything's hot so it will wait fifteen minutes or so to cool down before it unlocks the door. Time to finish our tea."
"And have another biscuit."
"Too right!"
* * *
By chance Dennis was upstairs putting the second pair of jeans in his bag, ready for departure the following day, when Andrea walked past.
"Hey, Dree! Got a minute?"
She looked around the door of the boxroom. "Dennis... Denise?"
"Um, look, come in here a moment. Sound travels."
"Okay." She was still reserved. "What is it?"
When she came inside he pulled the door to, but left it open enough so that he could see if anyone approached. His voice was low.
"I've been doing some thinking. About you. It's not me, is it? It's the gowns you've been having trouble with. I'm guessing that you don't like wearing really female things, would I be right?"
"I didn't realise," she replied in a low voice. "Until today I didn't even know I was doing it, or what I was finding unpleasant. It's all so confusing. I really do understand why you're standing there in a Regency gown but part of me wants nothing to do with any of that."
"Or, I'm guessing, that frock you have on now."
There was a look of disgust on her face. "Yeah. I know it's mine and I've worn it before but I've realised that I hate wearing dresses like this! I'd rather be comfortable in jeans or trousers and a sweatshirt."
"Or a hoody?"
She looked at him curiously. "How did you know that?"
"Because there are girls in my school who are just the same, Dree. They have to wear school uniform, everyone does, but the moment they're outside they change completely. It's like they are Wonder Woman, they go into a phone box and come out totally unrecognisable."
"How do they do that?"
"How would I know? I'm a mere boy, remember, though I've learned a few more things recently. Look, what I'm saying is that feelings like yours aren't unusual. There are some girls who even think they should be boys, just as there are boys who think they should be girls."
Her eyes widened. "How is that even possible?"
"Dunno. We have a couple - I think - at school, which is how I even know anything about the subject. One of them, a boy, is actually going to have the operation and eventually become a woman when they leave. Then there's a girl who wears boy's uniform to school and plays on the boy's football team. I'm not sure how far she wants to go, though."
"I didn't even know that was possible, Denise. Do you think I'm like that?"
"Don't know, Dree. I doubt anyone does, not even you. But it's something to think about. As you begin to learn more about yourself you might realise you don't want to do things the way everyone else does, or the way everyone wants you to. Something like that would certainly explain why you freaked out when you saw this gown."
"I suppose. Maybe I'll talk with Mum when you're gone." She gave a small smile. "That could be an interesting conversation!" She looked at Dennis. "Is that why you don't mind wearing that?"
"Well, it's left me a bit more open-minded, Dree. I don't want to become a girl, I don't think so, anyway, but dressing like this has its uses." He smiled at her. "It keeps me warm, for one thing. I get to understand why women - normal women, perhaps - like to wear clothes like this."
"I understand. Thank you, Dennis. You've made me think about what happened in a sensible way and told me things I never knew were even possible. I'll let you finish packing."
* * *
"Right, then." Dennis and Gayle were alone in the guest bedroom, since it offered more space for him to get undressed. There was a lot of fabric involved. She asked, "How have you found that gown today? I know about the problem with your shoulders, anything else cause trouble?"
"Actually, Mum, it's been much better than I expected." Dennis shrugged. "After all, it's what everyone wore once upon a time so it couldn't be that bad, could it?"
"Maybe, Dennis. Remember, it would be girls and women who wore those and, in case you might not have noticed, we're generally a different shape to you lot. I would also add that those gowns are quite loose fitting. Try being trussed up in a Victorian corset and dress with loads of petticoats, a bustle, and whatever else underneath! Not so much fun, I would imagine."
"You're right, Mum. Maybe I just got lucky, then."
Gayle eyed her son. "Is that what you call it? Right, so, if I remember from yesterday we have to loosen all the drawstrings first." She walked round to his back. "Only I don't see any here! How did they manage that?"
"Uh, Mum, I remember Aunt Sylvia lifting up the back and doing something underneath this morning."
"Oh, right."
She pulled the skirt right up and saw the neatly-tied bow at the base of his shoulder blades. She undid that and then moved around to his front to release the drawstring around the neckline.
"Were you warm enough with that amount of chest showing?"
"Well, it was different and not too warm to begin with but after a while it just seemed normal."
"Oh. All right, then, lift up your arms and I'll try and pull this over your head."
With the drawstring released Dennis could lift his arms a little higher than before but it was nowhere near enough. There was just too much of Dennis to let the gown slide past.
"Try crossing your arms," Gayle suggested. "Now grab the gown where the ribbon is and try and pull it up."
That actually made a difference but not enough. By now Dennis was getting sweaty and that made the material harder to get past his shoulders.
"It's no good, Mum. I've made myself hot and sticky trying and that isn't helping."
With the skirts down down again Gayle surveyed the problem. "No, it isn't. I'm wondering if we'll have to resort to surgery."
"Surgery?"
"Ha. Not you, Dennis, the gown. We might have to cut it off you if we can't shift it any other way."
"That would be a shame after all Aunt Sylvia's hard work. Say, I've been thinking. You said to cross my arms, that's the way girls and women usually take their tops off, isn't it?"
"Well, yes, but I have no idea why we do it differently. Oh, to get them past our breasts, I suppose, which can become very sensitive at times. Why, what was your thought?"
"Because it keeps your shoulders, in, perhaps. Maybe that habit developed when all women wore clothes like this, just to get them off easily."
"Hmm. It's an idea, but no help tonight because you aren't actually a girl. Now that you've calmed down a little, let's have another go."
It was fruitless, the structure of the sleeves meant that he just couldn't raise his arms high enough to let the gown come off.
"I'm going to have to admit defeat and get Sylvia up," Gayle said. "There has to be a way to do this without destroying the gown."
With Gayle's sister in the room she explained what they had tried.
Sylvia giggled. "Poor Dennis! Trapped in a million yards of Regency material! Yes, there is a trick to getting this off, but one we only discovered after having as much trouble getting it off Carrie as you have had now. Have you released the drawstrings right out?"
"Well, the underbust one, yes. The top one, surely we just need enough to get his head through?"
Sylvia smiled knowingly. "Ah, but it isn't just his head that has to go through it."
She reached up and slackened the neck drawstring completely, leaving a large surplus of fabric drooping down in front. Then she reached out to each shoulder and pulled the puffy sleeves off and down his upper arms as far as they would go.
"Now you and I have to pull each side down," she instructed Gayle, "while at the same time easing his hands up the sleeves."
"Ah, now I get it! The gown goes down, not up."
"Yep. It does mean that the wearer needs two helpers to get the gown off each time but that wasn't a problem three years ago. Keep your arms still and down, Dennis. That's right."
With the gown pooled around his ankles he could simply step out of it, lifting the skirts of the chemise to do so.
"That's good." Sylvia leaned down and picked the gown up, putting it over her arm. "I'll go and hang this up while you carry on with Dennis."
She left and Gayle looked at Dennis. "I would never have thought of doing that."
"Neither would I, Mum. But then, we don't live in Regency times, where everyone would probably have known."
"True. Let me undo the stays for you and I'm sure you can manage the rest by yourself."
"Thanks, Mum."
She smiled at him. "Does it feel good being back to Dennis once more?"
"Sort of, Mum. I still have to clean my face and comb my hair out."
"True. At the moment you still look like a girl. Right, then, I'll leave you to do the rest."
~o~O~o~
Wednesday morning, a short time after breakfast
"Well, we're sorry to see you go. It's been a strange holiday for you, hasn't it? Sorry about the weather."
Gayle snorted. "Typical British, isn't it? Apologising for the weather which none of us can do anything about. Strange holiday, yes. Stranger for some more than others, eh, Dennis?"
"Yes. Thank you, Aunt Sylvia, Uncle Phil, for having us. I know it has been hard with all the extra people in your house."
"It's not been so bad, Dennis," Sylvia replied. "Oh, having the tumble dryer break didn't help but you had a good learning experience out of it, didn't you?"
"Is that what you call it, Aunt Sylvia? Still, it was better than the alternative. Definitely more interesting."
"Next summer," Phil said, "by the time you come again, we have plans for a conservatory out the back, which should give us more space for everyone to move around in. I'm also thinking about expanding over the garage, which would give us two more bedrooms and another bathroom, but that probably won't happen next year."
"Oh, I do hope so, Phil," Sylvia breathed. "With this number of kids around the bedroom situation is getting tight already. Our two will need their own rooms soon, they can't keep sharing."
"I know, Syl. Maybe we'll revisit those plans, then."
"Got everything, Gayle?"
"Yes, Syl. Just need to get everyone in and go."
"Well, goodbye to all of you." Sylvia came and gave a bone-crushing hug to the departing visitors. "Hope to see you all just after Christmas this year?"
Gayle replied, "I expect so."
"Maybe we'll see Denise again at Christmas," Phil suggested. "I quite liked having her around."
"I think I agree, Phil," Sylvia said, adding thoughtfully, "I think I'll have a go at re-setting the sleeves on that gown. It will probably still fit Denise by the next time she comes."
Dennis felt a cold pit forming in his stomach. Doomed!
~o~ END ~o~
Author's Note: The seeds which prompted this tale can be found in my blog here.