Pink Panties

[billykins]

7.
Brigit and Myra were delighted at the boys’ decision.
“You won’t regret it, boys,” said Brigit.  “We’ve been looking at flights, and if you fly a couple of days before the end of term you’ll be able to have almost three weeks with Uncle Mike.”
“What, won’t the school object?” asked Archie.
“They may want a reason,” said Myra, “but there won’t be any trouble.  Conor’s family, and I’ll have a word with the head.  She’s very understanding.”
(She’ll be very amused, as well, when she hears the whole story, Myra thought.)
“So.  First lesson Tuesday evening.  Looking forward to it, boys?” smiled Brigit.
The boys weren’t looking forward to it at all, and as the day wore on they became more and more nervous.  They tried to keep up their spirits by speculating on the fun they were going to have – but that was eleven weeks away, and this a mere three days.

When they returned to school on Monday they couldn’t resist boasting about the trip to their friends, which aroused a deal of envy, but also brought it home to them that they were now irrevocably committed to the dancing lessons.  Of these they didn’t boast.  On the contrary, they realised were going to have to explain why they’d be regularly unavailable on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.  Saturday mornings wouldn’t be a problem, as they were both in the habit of lying in bed till twelve, unless summoned for chores.  They found a ready-made excuse, however.  They discovered that there were other classes taking place in the town hall concurrent with Irish dancing: yoga and judo.
“Okay,” said Archie, “we can easily say we’ve started going to judo.  We can go in, then just sort of slip aside into the dancing class.”
“Yeah?” said Conor.  “You sure?  What about if some of the other kids from our school go to judo?  What if, when we tell people that, they decide it’s such a good idea they’ll come and join us?  Any other bright ideas, genius?”
“Oh.  Yeah.  I see what you mean.  Er, well, we could say we were going to yoga classes…  No-one we know would be going – or would want to go.”
“Yoga?  They’ll think we’re wimps.”
“For the time being…but not after we’ve been to the States and shown them videos of us firing guns and riding bucking broncos and stuff…”
“All right.  But let’s not say anything till we have to, right?  Keep yoga in reserve.”
“Okay.”

Tuesday came.  Conor was so anxious he couldn’t eat his lunch.  Archie was in a similar state, but in his case he dealt with stress by eating more.  So he ate Conor’s lunch as well as his own.  Conor watched him with disbelief.
“I don’t know how you could – seeing what’s happening this evening.”
“Your mum makes ver’ goo’ egg mayo…” Archie said, in between bites.  “Ver’ tasty…”

They ran to the town hall – not out of eagerness, but just in case any of their friends were headed the same way.  There was a notice by a pair of double doors, “Daly’s Darlings”.
“Shit, Archie, that must be it.”
“Daly’s Darlings?  That doesn’t sound very promising…”
And with nervous glances over their shoulders to make sure they weren’t observed, they pushed their way in.  They found themselves in a largish room with a polished wooden floor and big windows, like a small school hall.  There were four girls there already, probably a couple of years older than them, chatting together casually.  They were wearing school uniform, which was reassuring.  Maybe they wouldn’t need to change just for practice.  They were relieved to see none of them was from their school.  One of them, a tall, slender girl in with a blond ponytail, turned to them.
“You’re in the wrong class.  This is Irish dancing.  Didn’t you see the sign?”
“That’s right,” said Conor, bravely.  “We know.”
The other three turned and stared as well.
“Irish…dancing,” said another, with emphasis, glaring at them.  “Girls’ Irish dancing…”
Conor sighed.  Archie blushed.
“Look…we know,” said Conor.  Mrs Daly’s agreed we can join…she knows all about it….”
The girls were struck dumb.  But only for a few seconds.
“This is a joke, right?”
“She would have told us.”
“It’s a wind-up, Janine.  We’re being pranked.”
“By two idiots.”
“Let’s kick them out…”
They advanced on the boys.  Fortunately for them, at that moment Mrs Daly came through the door.
“Hello girls!  Early birds!  Ah.  I see you’ve met our new recruits.”
“What?  Mrs Daly, I don’t understand!  Is it true?  How come there are boys” (this in the same tone she might have said “giant slugs”) “boys, joining our class?”
“I’m sorry, girls, I only agreed this last week.  The boys are very enthusiastic – though they’re both beginners – and they live too far away to make Caitlin’s class.”  Seeing the girls’ dismay, she added, “However, I’ve insisted they wear the girl’s costume, and I want you to treat each of them just like one of us.”
This revelation took a few seconds to sink in.  But it certainly mitigated their displeasure.  In fact, one of them allowed herself mischievous smile.
“They’re gonna wear the skirts?”
“And the socks?”
“And the wigs, miss?”
“Well they won't have to wear the wigs for classes, of course, but otherwise...  Yes, everything.”
“And the…,” began one.  But she couldn’t finish her question, being suddenly seized with a fit of giggles.
“Well, I’m glad you find it funny, Kelly,” said Mrs Daly, addressing a brunette who was now convulsed with laughter.  “Now, calm down, all of you.  Perhaps you’d like to introduce yourselves?  Please?”
“I’m Grace.”
“Hello.  I’m Janine,” said the tall one.
“And I’m Riana.”
“Hi.  I’m…”  Kelly managed to regain control of herself or a moment.  “I’m  K-Kelly…”  Then she doubled up again.
“Kelly!  I’m surprised at you.  One of my seniors behaving like an eight-year-old!”
“No, miss, really…it’s just…”
“Shush, girl.  Boys?  Your turn.”
“I’m Archie.  Hi.”
“And I’m Conor.  We’re really sorry.  We don’t want to cause any…disruption.  But you see…”
“Not at all, boys.  Not at all,” interrupted Mrs Daly.  “Now, while we’re waiting for the others, you girls can get changed, and I’ll see if I can find our new friends some dresses.  Follow me, please, boys.”
She led them into a side room.  Laid out on a table were half a dozen sparkling dresses.
“Now we have our own group uniforms, which as you can see are largely purple and yellow, but with lots of decorative embroidery.  I do hope you like them.   Feel free to handle them.”
“The material’s really heavy…” murmured Archie.
“That’s right Archie.  It’s very good quality, and what with the embroidery, and the lining…  Also, you’ll see the skirt has wide, stiff pleats.  The idea of that is to accommodate the movements of the dance, and make it easier to execute high kicks.”
“H-high kicks?”
“That’s just one part of the step routine.  Don’t worry about it now, you’ll soon see what's involved.  Now, looking at you, I would say these two will do for the time being.  They may be a little on the small side, but I’ve got more coming in in a week or so, so don’t worry too much.”
Archie and Conor looked at each other.  The dresses, to their minds, were insanely flamboyant, worse even than those they had viewed with disappointment on the internet.  The skirts didn’t look very long, and neither of them felt very enthusiastic about the idea of “high kicks”.
“You can change here.  You’ll need these, too.  These are called ‘poodle’ socks – you can see why.  And find yourselves some shoes – soft shoes for the time being.  There’s a heap of them in that black bag, all labelled with their sizes.  Come back in when you’re done.”
Neither of them moved.
“Quick as you can, boys, please,” said Mrs Daly, with a touch of impatience.  “We need to get started.”

The boys helped each other into their dresses, zipping each other up like a pair of girls getting ready for a night out.  The zips were as heavy-duty as the dresses, and they took a bit of pulling up.  They put on the poodle socks and found soft shoes that fitted.  They looked each other up and down.
“Oh my god.  What have we done?”
“You sparkle every time you move.”
“You too.  Like being in a disco.”
“I can see your boxers, Archie.  You look like a right idiot.”
“Well you…you look just like a girl…and an idiot.”
“We better get out there…”
“Yeah.  That Mrs Daly…”
“What?”
“You know…  Seems like she could be quite strict.”
“I can hear a lot of voices.  I hope there’s not too many of them…”

They opened the door and peered sheepishly into the room.  There were probably another dozen girls now, on top of the original four, ages ranging from about eight to thirteen, all of them in the same dresses as the boys.  They had all obviously been waiting for them to emerge, because they were all staring at the door. 
“Are, there you are.  Come on boys.  Girls, say hello to Archie and Conor.”
There were gasps and a little squeal.
“Girls!”
Suitably admonished, the girls greeted their new teammates with a chorus of whispers and giggles.
“Now Archie and Conor are complete beginners, so today they won’t be taking part, just watching.  So please, girls, be on your best behaviour and your best form.  Boys, would you like to stand over there, and…”
“Miss?”
“Janine?”
“Miss, what are they wearing underneath?”
“Well, I suppose…”
“Cos that one’s got boxers on.  I can see them!”
There was a little ripple of laughter.
“Yes, I see…”
“So aren’t they improperly dressed, miss?  You’re so particular about us – we all have to wear matching panties.  So why not them?”
“Well, they’re not actually performing yet, and…”
“But miss,” interrupted Kelly, “you told us that whenever we’re wearing our costumes they have to be correct in every detail.  “Whenever”, you said.”
“Well…”
“That’s true miss,” piped up one of the juniors.  “They’re setting a bad example.  They should be wearing panties just like these.”  And with a mischievous grin, she lifted her skirt to show her own.  If this was a deliberate attempt  to embarrass Archie and Conor even more, it succeeded brilliantly, causing them both to colour up and look at the ceiling.
“Millie, please!  The boys don’t want to see your panties.”
Mrs Daly paused.  She couldn’t think of a suitable excuse for the boys, and it was true Archie did look ridiculous.  And it was paramount to maintain the highest standards at all times.
She sighed.  “All right, then.  Janine and Kelly.  Just run over to Simpson’s over the road and buy a pack of panties, would you.  Medium size.  Here’s five pounds.  And be quick, please.” 
Janine snatched the note, emitted a little cry of “yess!”, and she and Kelly dashed for the door.  Mrs Daly turned to the boys.  “They’re quite right, boys.  I should have remembered to get you some.  Never mind.  They won’t be a minute.”
Startled, speechless and dismayed, the boys stood there helplessly, surveying the line of triumphant and expectant faces turned towards them.  It was at this moment that Archie realised one of those faces was not unfamiliar.  He nudged Conor. 
“That girl – there – second from the end…” he whispered.
“Shit…  She’s in our year!  She’s recognised us!”
“No-o…”
“We’ll have to talk to her.  She can’t tell anyone at school, or we’re…”
“Well and truly…”

Their commiserations were brought to an end by the reappearance of Janine and Kelly, who burst in panting.
“We ran as fast as we could, miss.  Here you are.”
Janine handed Mrs Daly a pack of panties in a clear wrapper.  Pink panties!
“Oh, you bought pink.  Weren’t there any white ones?”
“Yes.  But miss, remember the rules?  Beginners wear pink ones for the first six months.  Then they graduate to white.”
Mrs Daly looked hard at Janine.  She knew that Janine knew there was no such rule.  But it was such a clever idea, and she was game for a bit of fun.  She paused.  The girls waited breathlessly for her response.
“Oh, of course, I’d quite forgotten.  Yes, rule nineteen.  Probationary pink panties.  Thank you for reminding me, Janine.  These are a very pretty pink, too.  And a nice simple bow at the front.  Here boys, go and put these on, and be quick.  Then we really must get on.”

[dolly bo peep]

Billykins,

Like sarahpenguin, I am really liking your story. The girl in the same year of their school could really have some power over Conor and Archie. We will be very interested in reading the further developments.

[billykins]

8.
Mrs Daly produced a tape player and started up the music.  Irish jigs and reels and folk tunes, played at maximum volume it seemed, which, despite their Irish heritage, soon began to drive the boys mad.  Mrs Daly stood them with their backs to the walls – as if they were about to be shot, remarked Conor – facing the girls, who, whilst executing the most agile and athletic steps, leaps and hops, still seemed able to maintain expressions of amusement or contempt for their self-conscious captives.  Conor noticed that the girl they had recognised as one of their peers seemed to be watching them with particular malevolence, which only served to make him more uneasy.  But worse was yet to come.  Mrs Daly wound up the main lesson twenty minutes early.
“Right.  Boys, I hope you enjoyed the girls’ dancing, and feel sufficiently emboldened to try a few steps.  Girls, would you vacate the floor?  Line up by the wall.  If you have any comments or advice for them, you can tell them afterwards.”
There followed the most embarrassing ordeal they had ever undergone.  Mrs Daly showed them a few basic steps, which essentially involved placing their feet at uncomfortable angles to each other, jumping and hopping back and forth, whilst keeping their arms firmly at their sides the whole time.  Every time they jumped or hopped, up bounced their stiff skirts, giving the troupe a brief glimpse of their panties, and resulting in a burst of giggling, which Mrs Daly, for some reason only known to herself, declined to suppress.  Archie, however, apparently considering such a coy display of his underwear unsatisfactory, managed to fall over three times in the space of five minutes, each time giving the girls a full and protracted view of his well-filled pink undies as he lay there winded or struggled clumsily to his feet.
Mrs Daly was unrelenting however, and despite all their faux pas (literally), by the end of twenty minutes they were actually able to perform the basic steps without making fools of themselves, earning themselves a round of applause from their appreciative audience and words of praise from their teacher.
They hurried to get changed back into their ordinary clothes.  Mrs Daly offered to let them take their dresses home, “so your mothers can see how pretty you look”, but they politely declined.  She gave them the opened pack of panties, however, with three pairs left in it.
“You should pick up another pack while you’re here…  I’ll see you on Thursday, boys.  Well done today.  You’ve already got the basics, and you’ll find it easier…”
“Sorry, Mrs Daly.  We have to get going,” interrupted Conor.  He grabbed Archie and pulled him towards the changing room.  “Quick.  Look, she’s not even going to change out of her dress.  She just changing into trainers and then she’s going to leave!”
They unzipped each other and struggled out of their dresses.  Without even bothering to change their underwear they pulled on their school clothes as best they could, stuffed their boxers into their rucksacks, and ran.  They burst out into the street, and looked up and down.
“There she is!  Getting on that bus!”
They sprinted to the bus stop, arriving just as the doors had closed and the bus was about to start.  Fortunately the driver was a humanitarian, and opened the doors for them.  Their quarry was sitting at the back, pretending not to have seen them.  They made their way down the aisle and took the seat directly behind her.  She ignored them.  Conor opened the bidding.
“Hi.  It’s us.  We were in your Irish dancing class.”
The girl didn’t bother to turn round, but Conor could just see a smile appear on her lips.
“You were?  I didn’t see you.”
“Come on…  Look, I know we made idiots of ourselves.”
“Made idiots?”
“Whatever.  Maybe we are idiots, then.  But look, we need to ask you something.  Sorry, I don’t know your name…”
She turned half round, pouting mischievously.
“Sarah.  You’re Conor, and you’re Archie.  Right?”
“Yeah.  Sarah.  Hi.  Listen…”
“I’m listening.”
“Look, it’s like this…er…”
“Please, don’t tell anyone at school…you know, about us…” blurted Archie, anxiously.
“No?  Not even about your beginners’ pink panties?  Whyever not?”
Conor groaned.  Archie persisted.
“Sarah.  You know what’ll happen if you do.  We’ll never live it down.”
“And we’ll get beaten up by those second years,” added Conor.  “Please.  We’re begging you.  Tell us what you want us to do.”
“What I want you to do?”
“Yes, you know…like if you need anything…help with homework, maybe.  Archie’s a whizz at maths…maybe you might need someone sorting out one day, or something…”
“I think I can take care of myself, thank you.”  She turned further round.  The smile never left her lips.  “Maybe you can do a few things.  I’ll think about it.  You can come and see me at lunchtime tomorrow.  You'll find me in the playground.”
“Thank you, Sarah.  Thank you very much.”
“But tell me…  Why are you doing Irish dancing in the first place?  You don’t seem very enthusiastic.”
“It’s a long story.  Our mums…  And if we don’t go, we don’t get a holiday at Christmas.”
“Holiday?”
“In Texas.”
“Texas?  Seriously?”
“Yeah.  My uncle’s got a ranch there.  But we have to earn it, see?”
“Wow.  Now I see.  Okay.  The first thing you have to do…”
“Yes?” said Archie eagerly.
“The first thing is…you’ve got to dedicate yourself to it.  Practise hard.  Not miss even one class.  Get as good as us.  Get good enough to do the Christmas show.”
“Christmas show?  No, we’ll be gone by then.”
“When are you leaving?”
“It’s gonna be before the end of term.  Like the third or fourth of December.”
“Oh, that’s all right.  The show’s on the first.”
“Shit!”
“Sorry?  Well, if you’re not going to make the effort…”
“Yes, Sarah, yes, yes we are!” said Conor, panicking.
“Yeah,” said Archie.  “We’ll work really hard, you’ll see…”
“You’d better.  Or my video of you two cavorting about is going to be all over the school.”
“Video?  You didn’t..!”
“Didn't I?  See?”  She held up her phone.
“Oh my god…”
“So be good boys, do what I told you, be nice to me…very nice…and I may decide to keep this to myself.  Agreed?”
“Agreed…” sighed Conor.
“Yeah, okay, agreed…” breathed Archie.

[dolly bo peep]

Billykins,

Things are really getting interesting. It looks like Conor and Archie are in the palm of Sarah's hand and she is enjoying having the upper hand.

Is the Christmas show really just before they are supposed to leave for Texas, so they will have to perform in full regalia, flashing their pink panties in a public showing? Will Mrs Daly have more fun than just putting them in pink panties?

What humiliations do Sarah and friends have in store?

And speaking of Texas, what more will Phelan be showing and telling them on their video chats?

[billykins]

9.
Sarah went home that night experiencing an emotion entirely new to her: a sense of total power over another human being – in this case, two human beings – and even better, two supposedly tough male human beings!  She took it that her agreement not to reveal their secret to anyone else did not include her older sister.  She hurried home, desperate to get the news off her chest before she burst, and broadcast it to the whole world – well, to the occupants of the bus, at least.
Patricia was seventeen.  It was she who had introduced Sarah to Irish dancing.  She was an accomplished dancer herself, and belonged to a group near to her college.  She was in the kitchen when her sister burst in.
“Trish!  You’ll never guess!” she cried, breathlessly.  “You know my dance group?  Well…”
“Hey, sis, hold on.  Cool your jets…   That’s better.  Hello, darling.  Did you have a good day at school?”
“I did.  The best!”  She was squirming with excitement.  “Er…did you have a good one?”
“Yes, thank you.  Now sit down and tell me your news.  What’s happening with your group?”
“You’d never guess.  Mrs Daly’s let in two boys!  Boys from my school.  She’s making them wear dresses, the whole thing!”
Patricia was genuinely taken aback.
“Boys?  Why?  The boys are supposed to go to Caitlin’s group, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, but they couldn’t, I dunno why, I think it was too far or something…”
“Did you say she’s put them in girl’s costumes?”
“Yeah!  Look, I can show you…”  She pulled out her phone.
Patricia stared in disbelief, then started laughing and couldn’t stop.
“See?”
“Oh my god…  I’ve never seen anything so funny…  And they’re wearing panties!”
“Yeah, she told them they had to.  And the best bit is, we tricked them and told them they had to wear pink ones cos they were just beginners!”
“They believed that?”
“They believe it!  Isn’t it amazing?”
But Patricia had suddenly become attentive.
“Wait a minute.  Show me that again…  Yes, that looks like Archie Donnelly…”
“Yeah.  It is.  And the other one’s Conor Nolan.  How did you know?”
“I know because he’s Sinead’s little brother.  You know Sinead.  We used to go to Mrs Daly together years back.  I haven’t spoken to her for months.  We’ve sort of got out of touch.”
“They don’t want to be there.  Their mums have said they have to go or they won’t be allowed to go on some trip at Christmas.”
“Right.  Wait a minute.  I’m going to ring Sinead right now.”
She picked up her phone.
“Sinead?  Hi, it’s Trish.  Yeah, I’m good.  You?  Great.  Really?  I know, we must.  It’s been ages.  Sure, any time.  Fine, I’m free.  But listen.  Sarah’s just come home, and she’s telling me Archie’s taken up the dancing?  She’s shown me the most incredible video.  I’m gonna send it to you in a minute.  Did you know…?”  Clearly she knew all about it, because Patricia was obliged  to listen in silence for a full two minutes.  “That’s incredible.  And they’ve actually gone and done it!  They must be desperate to go to their uncle’s…  Hold on…”  She turned to Sarah.  “She knows all about it.  They’re going to Texas, apparently.”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“And they’re paranoid their friends will find out.”
“That’s right!  They’re begging me not to tell anyone.  They’ll do anything…”
“Hold on.  Sinead wants a word.  I’ll put her on speaker.”
“Sarah?”
“Hi, Sinead.”
“Hi, darling.  So you’ve got a video?  I can’t wait to see it.”
“Oh, it’s pure comedy, Sinead,” put in Patricia.  “Two little clowns in pink panties!”
“In what?”
“Pink panties!  Apparently they got pranked into believing beginners have to wear pink panties!  For god’s sake don’t disabuse them!”
“It’s true!” cried Sarah.  “And now they’re being all nice to me in case I decide to show their friends!”
Sinead was quiet for a moment.
“You know what, Sarah?  I’m glad.  They’ve been acting like such a pair of little toughies ever since they went up to big school.  They need cutting down to size.  And it sounds like you’ve got them eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“I have!  They’re offering to help me with my homework and everything!”
“Perfect.  Now, my advice is to play it cool.  Get that video off your phone first of all, in case of accidents.  Let me and Trish keep copies.  Then you can do what you like with them.  They can be your little slaves – carry your bag, run errands, whatever. You’re a very inventive young lady.   I know you won’t be cruel, but you can certainly have some fun, and at the same time you’ll be helping to keep them on the straight and narrow - you’ll be doing them a favour, actually.  Just let Trish or your mum know what’s happening, okay?”
“I will, Sinead.  I promise!”
“Wait a minute!  Hold on.  That’s Archie coming in now.  Keep quiet.  I’ll hide the phone.”
They listened.
“Hi Archie.  Good day?”
“Yeah, okay.  Gotta go and change.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing.  I’m fine.”
“You seem…nervous.  How was your first class?”
“Yeah, okay.  It’s pretty easy.  I need the loo…”
“Before you go, just pass me up the cat dish, would you?”
Archie sighed.  “Here.  What’s for supper?”
“Go and change first.”
She came back on the phone.
“He’s still wearing them!” she whispered.  “I thought he was, and then when he bent down I saw them!  Such a pretty shade of pink!”
“He must like them,” laughed Patricia.
“Wow!  They can’t have had time to take them off,” smiled Sarah.
“No.  I think Trish is right.  They like them,” laughed Sinead.  “Anyway, I have to go and make supper.  I’ll let my mum know what’s happening.  And Trish, I’ll see you Friday, yes?”

Sarah lay awake that night, a smile on her face, pondering on the possibilities.  Archie – she liked him best.  He was cute, actually, with those dark eyes and that curly hair.  It would be nice to keep him close.  Conor?  He was sort of gingerish and freckled.  He was more convincing when he pretended to be streetwise.  But she knew that underneath he was just an everyday regular normal wimp.  He needed some sort of special treatment.  But what…?
Just as she was dropping off to sleep, an idea occurred to her.  An idea that made her giggle, and gave her funny dreams for the whole night…

[billykins]

10.
One of Sarah’s best friends at Irish dancing was a little girl named Lily.  She was a year younger than Sarah – still in junior school, in fact – and appeared rather shy and naĂŻve, with mousey hair tied up in a perfunctory ponytail and blue glasses.  She was an only child, and her mother dressed her rather too young, perhaps in the subconscious hope of arresting her development.  But beneath that innocent exterior was a rather mischievous and clever brain.  She could play pranks better than Sarah herself, but because of her looks always escaped suspicion.  Together they were a dangerous duo.  That morning, before school, she rang Lily and they had a long and interesting conversation…

So when the boys showed up obediently in the playground that day, Sarah’s plans were nearing fruition.  She was with a small group of friends when they approached.
“Er…Sarah?” began Conor, anxiously, looking at the friends’ faces to try to divine if Sarah had spilled any beans.
“Yes?  What do you want?”
“You er…wanted to see us?”
The friends looked from the boys to Sarah and back at the boys with open mouths. 
“Oh, did I?  Oh, yes.  Go and get us some sweets, would you.  Those mixed bars in bags.  Two should be enough.”
They stood awkwardly by, waiting for her to give them some money.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“Oh…nothing…”
They moved away.
“Quickly, please!”
They ran.
“You got any money, Conor?”
“A few quid.  Maybe she’ll pay us back afterwards.”
“And maybe she won’t.  Is this what it’s gonna be like?”

When they returned with the sweets, the friends’ surprise had turned to amusement.  Sarah took them without a word, then, as they retreated, she called after them.
“Wait for me after school.  I want you to carry my artwork.”
One of the girls burst out laughing.
“Have you got something on them, Sarah?  They’re like the toughest first years in the school.”
“Not any more.”
“So what is it?”
“Love potion.  I gave them love potion and now they adore me, and they’ll do anything I tell them.”
“No, really.  What do you know?”
“I told you.  Anyway, what do you care?  As long as they stop bossing everyone in year one about, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
“I think you’ve hypnotised them.”
“Yeah.  With my beauty.”

Sarah took her time at the end of school.  When she finally emerged, she saw the boys standing disconsolately at the gate, waiting for her.  She almost felt sorry for them.
She gave Archie her artwork, and Conor her bag, and made them come all the way home with her.  But she invited them in for snacks.  Patricia was home.
“Hi Sarah.  Hi Archie.  And you must be Conor.  Would you like some pizza?”

Over supper Patricia asked them how they liked Irish dancing.  They pretended enthusiasm.
“I’d be happy to give you lessons, if it would help,” said Patricia.  “I know Sinead would too.”
“It’s all right, sis.  I’ve got it covered.”
Conor, who didn’t relish the prospect of being ordered about by Sarah, was inclined to accept the offer.
“That’s very kind of you, Patricia.  Sarah says you’re very good at Irish dancing.  Maybe you could show us some steps, if you have time.”
“Well we can all help, I’m sure.  Sarah tells me you have to be ready for the Christmas show.”
“Er…”
“That would be amazing if you could improve enough in three months.  It is possible, you know.”

After supper, Sarah led them upstairs to her room, and sat them on the floor.  She threw herself on the bed.  She took out her purse.
“Here’s the money for the sweets.  Course I wasn’t going to make you pay for them.  But I wanted you to understand your position.  You’re going to be my friends, now, so you’ll want to be nice to me.  Archie, you’re going to be my special friend.  All I mean by that is that I will be giving you extra tuition, and you will need to fit in with my training schedule, as well as performing some little tasks in return.”
“And what about me?”
“You Conor, will also have a personal trainer.  Tomorrow at practice I will introduce you to Lily.”
“Lily?”
“You saw her on Tuesday.  I have spoken to her, and she will undertake your tuition.  She is the same standard as me.”
“Which one was she?”
“Smallish girl, blue glasses.”
“Her?  She looked about eight!”
“She’s ten.  Actually less than a year younger than me, though she’s still in juniors.  She’s very nice, though sometimes a bit shy.  So I want to make it clear that you’re going to be very, very nice to her.  In fact, while she’s teaching you, you could actually be helping her at the same time.”
“How’s that?” said Conor, sourly.
“Helping to build her confidence.  People sometimes give her a hard time because she’s little and a bit naĂŻve.  She’ll look up to you, so treat her with respect.  Don’t disappoint or upset her, or I’ll hear about it and I’ll drop you right in it.  Understand?”
“All right.  Course I won’t do anything to hurt her.  Don’t worry.  I’ll look after her, and no-one will dare upset her when I’m around, see?”
“Thank you.”
Excellent, thought Sarah.  I thought the role of protector might appeal to him.  Sort of bodyguard.  She’ll have him wound round her little finger in no time… 

So the ground rules were laid out.  The idea of separating the boys had been dreamt up by the combined cunning of Sarah and Lily.  On Mondays Conor would be required to go to Lily’s for training.  On Wednesdays Archie would be at Sarah’s.  And on Fridays they would both be with their mentors, whether together or separately.  The training sessions would last about one hour, and time would be set aside for homework, so their schooling wouldn't suffer.

In that Thursday class, at least both boys managed to keep their feet.  Their ungainly movements continued to generate amusement, however, and there were no new dresses forthcoming, so the little pink panties were still nicely on display, to the satisfaction of all present.  Mrs Daly was impressed.  They were definitely trying very hard, and after the session she took a moment to congratulate and encourage them.
“Well done, boys.  If you keep attending lessons regularly you’ll soon be proficient.  I also hear you asked Sarah and Lily to give you extra training.  That shows real dedication.  It’s a pleasure to have you on board!”
“Thank you, Mrs Daly,” replied Conor.  “We will try hard, I promise you, though I’m sure we won’t be good enough for the Christmas show – not this year, anyway.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…  It’s not impossible.  It’s a target you should aim at, anyway.  It’s such a wonderful occasion.  We take over the main hall, there will be probably six groups in all, and all the parents come to watch – oh, and we sell tickets to the general public, too.  And the girls like to bring all their friends from school…”
Those last words froze the boys’ blood.  They looked at each other aghast.  It dawned on them that they were on a hiding to nothing.  If they didn’t make it Sarah would release the video.  If they did... then they’d be performing in front of an audience!
“Mrs Daly?”
“Yes, Archie?  Say we did get as good as the girls…would we get to…”
“Yes?”
“Would be get promoted to white panties?”
“Well, I can’t promise, but I’d definitely consider it…”
“Thank you, miss.”
“So I’ll see you on Saturday morning, boys.”

“So it’s not a question of if, but a question of when…” groaned Archie.
“It’s either the video, or the show…”
“It’s either us falling about like twats in pink panties, or possibly…”
“Actually dancing well, maybe in white ones…”
“I go for the second option,” said Archie.  “That video…  it leaves nothing to the imagination…  And it'll be there forever.”
“I agree.  We’re going to have to practise hard.  It’s our only chance.”

As they stood there commiserating, Sarah approached with Lily.
“Hi boys.  This is Lily.”
“Hi, Lily,” said Archie, cheerfully.
“Hi, Lily,” said Conor, despondently.  Sarah gave him a threatening look.
“I mean, it’s really great to meet you.  Sarah has told us all about you.  Er…  She says you’ve offered to help me…”
Lily looked at him shyly through her blue plastic spectacles.  “Yes, if you’d like…  I’m not very good, but…”
“Oh, I thought you were really good even the first time I saw you,” said Conor, drawing an approving smile from Sarah.  “I wish I could be as good as that one day…”
“Lily would like you to go and meet her mum tonight, and have supper at her house,” said Sarah.
“And meet my bunnies,” added Lily, excitedly.
“Your bunnies?”
“Yes, Conor.  I have two bunnies, Bonny and Bouncer.  Bonny’s a girl and Bouncer’s a boy.  They live in the garden, and they have a special pen, and a hutch, and a playground all of their own.  They like all sorts of things – carrots are their favourites, but they also eat…”
“Well, Lily, Conor will be able to come and see them now, won’t he?”
“Yes, Sarah.  He’ll like them  They’re very friendly, Conor.”
Conor had had other plans, but he  remembered Sarah’s admonition, and said he was looking forward to meeting them.  And her mother, of course.
“I’ll take care of Archie,” said Sarah, in a tone that precluded argument.  “You can come to mine, Archie.”

So it was that ten minutes later, Conor found himself walking side by side with Lily, back in her school uniform, carrying her bag.  She was half a foot shorter than he, but she walked so quickly he had a job keeping up.
“Come on, Conor,” she said, taking his hand.  We mustn’t miss the bus.”
And she kept hold of his hand even at the bus stop, and even when they were seated, he on the inside and she by the aisle, for all the world as if she was his girlfriend.  Conor felt slightly self-conscious, but no-one looked at them, so presumably people imagined she was his kid sister.  No-one, that is, until two boys of twelve or thirteen got on.  As they passed by they saw the joined hands, and they took the seat behind them.  There was sniggering, and some sarcastic remarks.
“Little lovebirds.”
“Gonna start snogging soon…”
“Ain’t she a bit young for you, mate?”
“’Ow old you, little girl?”
“Look, ‘e’s blushing…”
“I’m not!  Leave us alone!”
“Ooh, ‘e’s getting’ all ‘ot an’ bovvered!”
“Watcher gonna do, dic-k’ead?”

And so it went on, until it was time for the yobs to get off.  Conor was fuming.  If he hadn’t been with Lily, he would have started a fight.  But considering her apparent delicacy, he didn’t want to alarm her.  It was a relief when they rose to leave, even though one of them poked him in the back of the neck.
“Bye bye, dic-kface…”
The bus was still moving as they went to walk down the aisle to the door.  One was close behind the other.  Lily waited for the first to pass, and as the second followed Conor saw her, to his astonishment, stick one foot out and trip him up. The bus was braking, and he cannoned into his friend and they both went sprawling in the aisle, one on top of the other. 
“Get off me, you fuc-kin’ idiot!”
“It weren’t me – that little bitch fuc-kin’ tripped me!”
Picking himself up, he looked back.  Lily was sitting straight, feet neatly together, eyes big behind her glasses, looking shocked and horrified.  He made a threatening move towards her.
A passenger in one of the transverse seats, a heavily-built bearded man with a shaved head, and the general appearance of a recently-retired cage-fighter, placed a restraining paw on his chest.
“Oi suggest you two get orf, before oi ’as ter frow yer orf…  An’ yer can apologise to the littaw gel…”
The tripper thought about it, observed the size of the speaker’s fist, and made his decision.
“Er…yeah…sorry…er…miss.  I must ‘ave tripped…”
“That’s better.  Now...piss orf!”
They scrambled out of the bus, nearly falling over each other again in their haste.
Her saviour turned and bestowed a huge smile on her.  “Sorry abaht that, darlin’.  You awright?”
“Thank you sir.  Yes.  Thanks to you.”
Conor looked at her sideways.  Surely there was more to this Lily than met the eye…

[billykins]

11.
Lily held his hand all the way home, walking faster the nearer they got to her house.  She didn’t even let go to open the front door, and was so excited that she forgot to close it behind her.
“Mummy!  Mummy?  We’re home!”
“Close the door, dear, please.”
“Mummy, this is Conor from our Irish dancing group.”
“Lily told me all about…I mean, she told me Mrs Daly had two new students.  Lovely to meet you, Conor.  Please come into the living room and I’ll get you both something to eat.”
“Thank you.  Nice to meet you too…”
“Laura.  Laura Nimmo.”
Lily’s mother had the sort of face that is cheerful in itself, and engenders cheerfulness in others.  Devoid of makeup, wide blue eyes like her daughter, her lips seemingly wanting to smile even when she was being serious, her hair a natural blonde.  She had an easy, sociable manner that immediately put Conor at his ease.  In fact, after the enigma that was her daughter, she rather took him by surprise, and he felt himself relax in her presence.
“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs Nimmo…”
“Laura.”
“Er…Laura.  You have a very nice house…”
And she had – light and open, like a reflection of her personality.
“Thank you, Conor.  Now sit down – here, on the sofa.  I’ve made some food – just snacks.  What would you like to drink?  We have everything from milk to Coke to Bourbon…”
“Bourbon?”
“Just joking.”
Lily had disappeared into the kitchen.  Her voice floated out.  “Yummy!  Mummy?  Shall I bring the food in?”
“Please, darling.  Put it in front of our guest and he can take what he likes.  So, drinks?”
“Coke please, Laura.”
“Coming up.”

The “snacks” turned out to be a bit more than he had expected, including sausages and chips as a sort of side dish with a plentiful supply of ketchup.  Laura left them to eat uninterrupted, retiring to the kitchen and singing quietly to herself.  When they had finished, Lily jumped up.
“I’m going to change, Conor.  Then we can see my bunnies.  I’ll let you feed them if you like.”
While she was away, Laura returned and sat down opposite him.
“I’m so glad Lily has a new friend, Conor.  She must like you a lot – she hardly ever mixes with boys.  Pity, because, as I’m sure you’ll find out, she’s not all innocence and sweetness.  I think in some ways it’s a protective front she uses when convenient.”
“Yes, I think I know what you mean,” replied Conor, remembering the incident on the bus.  Up to that point he had seen Lily as a potential nuisance.  But now he was not so sure.  And her mother was so charming…

Lily reappeared, her school uniform replaced by a torn black rock-band T-shirt, black mini-skirt and ankle-boots.  Conor had never kept rabbits, and he knew nothing about them.  So he was surprised when they came running over to greet them as they walked down the garden, much like a couple of dogs or cats.  Bonny was white with brownish splotches.  Bouncer was bigger, grey with slightly floppy ears.  That were very pleased to see both children, and Conor helped feed them vegetables and greens. 
“Is this all they eat?”
“This, and hay.  Bouncer’s a bit greedy, so he’s only allowed one bunch of hay a day.  He tries to eat Bonny’s sometimes, but she pushes him off.”  She sighed.  “I love my bunnies.  Don’t you wish you had some?”
“It would be nice,” said Conor, feeding Bouncer a stick of celery.  “But we already have two cats, and we don’t have a very big garden.  But yes, I like them very much.”

Conor stayed till nine.  They sat around talking, and then all three played Scrabble till it was time for him to go.  Lily won every game.  She hardly ever hesitated or spent time thinking, as if the words came very easily to her.  Conor was beginning to find her very interesting, and quite different from what he had expected - in some ways very childish, in others quite precocious.  At nine Laura drove him home.  Lily sat in the back.  They both came in for a minute, and met his mum and Erin.  Lily insisted on holding his hand.  He could see the surprise on his mother’s and sister’s faces, but he didn’t have the heart to pull himself away.
They said their goodbyes.
“See you after school Monday, Conor,” said Lily.  “Don’t forget to take your dress with you after class on Saturday.  I won’t be there.  We’re going away to my aunt’s for the weekend.”
“Oh, right.”
“Yes.  Your dress and everything else.  You’re going to be a good dancer.  I can tell.”

He closed the door behind them, Lily still waving from the car.
“Well.  You’ve got a new little friend then, Conor,” smiled Brigit.
“A new girlfriend, mum,” laughed Erin.  “How sweet!”
“Shut up Erin.  She’s not my girlfriend.  She’s just helping me with Irish dancing, that’s all.”
“Don’t forget your dress, Conor,” she mimicked.  “And your little panties!”
“Shut up!”
“You’ll never be any good, anyway.  You’re the wrong shape.  And too clumsy.”
“Erin!  That’s enough!”
“You’ll see.  I’m going to be as good as you.  Better, in fact!”
“Don’t be stupid.  You can only be good at it if you really want to do it.  You don’t.”
“Maybe you’re wrong.  Maybe I do.  You’ll see.”
And he went to bed that night determined to prove his sister wrong.