His Aunt Nicole

[Simonssister]

Chapter 208.

MĂ©lisande was soon busy with his tack.  Black saddlecloth, his regular saddle, girths – she tightened these an extra notch; she wasn’t taking any chances of the saddle slipping in the middle of their routine.  On went the stirrup leather and stirrups, after which she mounted him to check they were just the right length.  Having satisfied herself as to that, she turned to the bridle.  Bobby’s bridle had a headband which went just behind his pony ears and encircled his head with cheekpieces and a chinstrap which went under his jaw.  It was fitted with a head band that also encircled the top of his head at the forehead and buckled at the back, thus securing the top of the bridle.  The cheekpieces incorporated bit-rings which were linked by a neck-strap running around the back of his neck.  This kept the cheekpieces and chinstrap firmly in place, and once the bit was attached to the rings the neck-strap could be tightened as much as necessary to pull the bit into the mouth, or the bit could have its own strap which could be buckled at the back.  Finally, the short reins would be clipped to the bit-rings, allowing the rider to turn his head and change his direction at will.
MĂ©lisande worked carefully to put on his bridle, making sure it fitted firmly but comfortably.  Unfortunately Bobby’s rebelliousness had returned, and he did everything in his power to make her job difficult, shaking and nodding his head, complaining, even swearing!  Then he refused to let her put on his bit.  It was just his usual rubber bit, a flat strip that went over his tongue, between his side teeth, and clipped to the bit-rings.
“Stop being so horrid, Bobby!” she cried.  In despair she stood up, grabbed her little whip, and gave him two hard smacks on his flank – much to the delight of the girls, who had been hoping to see it in action ever since she had showed it to them.   
“Oww!   You bitch!”
That was it.  Cynthia whispered something in MĂ©lisande’s ear, to which she responded by  compressing her lips and nodding.  It was a last resort but an effective one.  Behind Bobby’s back, Cynthia produced something from her bag and gave it to MĂ©lisande.  Holding it behind her back, she turned to Bobby.
“All right.  You don’t want your old bit.  So I’m going to give you a new one.”
She sat astride him.  He tried to look around.
“What new one?  Show me!  What are you doing?  Speak to
umph!”
 She had waited for the right moment, when his mouth was open, and, holding it by the ends of its straps, swung the “new bit” over his head and jerked it into his mouth.  He struggled, but she had it buckled in an instant, an then all was silence – well, almost.  Now there was only muffled fury.   MĂ©lisande climbed out of the saddle and walked round in front of him.  Everyone was laughing, the girls almost wetting themselves.  Now his lovely shiny pink lips formed a perfect ‘O’ around a large, glossy mauve ball-gag.  Amelia was already taking photos.  His face looked so comic framed in the oval opening of the latex hood, with its pricked ears, his wide eyes fearful and resentful beneath their long lashes, set in rings of tarty pink eye-shadow!  With his freckly cheeks and round, pouting mouth he looked like a startled exotic fish, or maybe some sort of gaudy sex-doll.
He wanted to say “Please!  I’m sorry!  You’re not going to ride me out there like this, are you?  Really you’re not!  MĂ©lisande, please!  I’ll do anything you say from now on.  I swear!  Please no.  You wouldn’t
would you?”  But of course he couldn’t.
Fortunately for him, however, someone did ask that very question.  Charlotte.
“You’re not going to ride him in front of all those people looking like that, with that big mauve ball thing in his mouth, are you Mellie?”
MĂ©lisande smiled.  “Just watch me, Charlotte
”

[Simonssister]

Chapter 209. 

It may have seemed cruel to humiliate Bobby even further with the ball-gag.  But the truth is it was all part of a plan hatched by Nicole, Lavinia, Clarissa and Miss Poole.  So far from wanting him outed on his big day, their aim was just to frighten him a little, to teach him a lesson, and thereby to reassert their authority and consolidate their power.  To this end all those that knew of his true identity – that is to say, the entire committee, those select members of staff such as the stable girls and a couple in admin, and of course the inner circle of Ladies in Boots - had been sworn to secrecy.  To this select coterie had now been added Charlotte and Amelia.
Had his identity become generally known, it would have ruined everything.  His name would have been all over social media, he would have been hounded by online and offline, and his boot boy career could easily have been ended before it had even begun.  Instead, the ladies were determined to keep his pony activities under wraps, especially as he and MĂ©lisande had turned out to be such a great team.  Plans were already under discussion for more guest appearances in the future, with Bobby suitably disguised, and Cynthia was already working on a variety of ingenious new masks and bits.  Naturally MĂ©lisande was happy that she would continue to have Bobby to ride and show for the foreseeable future, and now Charlotte and Amelia had been recruited there was also the prospect of possibly training up them up to share the work.
In the ladies’ plan, the garish makeup had merely been the first stage of the disguise.  They knew that introducing an open-face hood would cause panic and rebellion, which would be the perfect justification for applying the second part of the disguise, replacing his standard bit with a nice big ball-gag.  They had agreed he should be introduced to the spectators simply as an anonymous “ponyboy”.  Of course this would give rise to endless speculation as to his identity, but there would be no obvious link to the new boot boys, and to nip in the bud any hint of a connection, Miss Poole planned to introduce both boys, wearing their outfits, to the crowd at the end of her winding-up speech.  No-one could conceivably imagine that either one of these two handsome boys had anything to do with the ugly little animal scurrying around the arena minutes before.  For this plan to work it would be necessary to get Bobby out of his pony suit and into his boot boy uniform in about ten minutes flat, but the ladies were confident they could do that.

Whilst Bobby was panicking in the main room, Clarissa, Nicole and MĂ©lisande took the girls aside in the bedroom, and explained what was going on.
“
 so that’s why you must never reveal what you know – that MĂ©lisande’s cute little pony is really Bobby,” said Nicole conspiratorially.  “Do you understand girls?  I know it’s a big secret, but we’ve discussed it, and we think you are grown-up enough to join our little club.  Of course, knowing that you know might make him anxious, so please reassure him.  In the long run he’ll have to rely on you to keep his secret, so out of pure necessity you might find you become good friends.”
“Yeah
I see
” said Charlotte.  An smile spread over her face.  “That would be really cool
”
Amelia’s eyes sparkled.  “He’d have to be nice to us
and do all sorts of stuff
like take us out for dinner
or introduce us to his friends
”
“Yeah – and only we would know why.  Everyone else would think it was because he fancied us or something!”
“I’m sure Bobby will always be nice to you,” said MĂ©lisande, frowning.  “He always has been, hasn’t he?  He already thinks of you as his friends.  But always remember I’m his mistress – I’m the only one allowed to dictate his actions and behaviour.  Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mellie
” they chorused.
“Of course, he’s bound to behave a bit differently now.  Yes, and you may be able to wind him around your little fingers.  But he’s my best friend, and you need to respect that.  If you do, then I don’t see why you shouldn’t have a ride on him too, every now and then..”
“Really?”
“I’m sure he’s tired of being ridden by the same person every day.  And he needs to learn to adapt to other riders, just like any novice pony.  So yes, if you want.”
“Wow, yes please!” cried Charlotte.  “But
”
“I know you two don’t ride, but I can give you some lessons, and Bobby’s the perfect training mount.”
“Would you, Mellie?  That would be so amazing!” cried Amelia.  “I’ve always wanted to learn to ride, but my mum says it’s too expensive.”
“Yes, me too,” said Charlotte.  “I felt so jealous today, seeing some of my friends riding such beautiful ponies
”
“Don’t worry girls,” said Nicole, “you can start off on Bobby, and if you like it I can arrange free training and riding lessons here.”
“Would you, miss?  Wow!  Thank you so much!”
“No problem.  We have a special scheme that subsidises lessons and pony hire.  We can easily sort that out.  So are you in?”
“Yes miss!”
“Yes please.  It’s so exciting.  I can still hardly believe it – I mean that the gorgeous Bobby Tucker is also Mellie’s actual pony!”

They filed back into the main room, to find Cynthia squatting in front of Bobby holding up a small mirror.
“See that?  Stop worrying.  No-one’s going to connect this stubby little pony, with its clown-face made up like a prostitute, with that tall, nice-looking guy by the name of Bobby Tucker – now are they?  And no-one’s going to tell them either - we’ve seen to that.  So all you need to do is to focus on putting in a really good performance which will make Mellie proud, and enhance her reputation as a rider and trainer.  After you return, you’re going to do a quick change into your superhero outfit, and you and Timothy are going to be introduced to the audience.  Be sociable, smile and wave, and I guarantee you’ll be deluged with bookings and invitations, and by the end of a few months you’ll have more money than you know what to do with.  Agreed?  Do you get it now?”
Bobby, mollified and reassured, and reminded of the money, relaxed and nodded his head.  He respected Cynthia not only for her tailoring skills, but also her business ac-umen.  And she knew as well as anyone how to concentrate his mind on the things that mattered to him.
“Good boy.”  She patted his cheek and stood up.  “Okay.  Girls, you know the score?”
Charlotte and Amelia nodded vigorously.
“We’ve explained everything,” said Nicole, “and they’re totally on board.  I’ll get them enrolled in the facilitation scheme this week, and Mellie’s going to help too.”  She checked her watch.  “The dressage is well under way.  I would say you’ll be called in about fifteen minutes.  Are you both okay now?  Bobby, are you feeling comfortable?”
He nodded.  Though if he could have spoken, he might have complained about a couple of things
  Such as an erection that wouldn’t subside, and a tickling in his butt every time he moved that wasn’t helping at all


[Simonssister]

Chapter 210.

All the while this had been going on, Timothy had not been far away.  In accordance with Miss Poole’s instructions, just before three o’clock Ellie had informed the girls in the queue outside stable 13 that he would be cleaning no more boots that day, being needed elsewhere, orders of Miss Poole.  She mitigated their disappointment with the promise that the girls who hadn’t been attended to would be issued with staff tickets entitling them to free sessions the following week, in the boot parlour itself.  Then she released Timothy from his collar – on the basis that, attired as he was, he was hardly likely to try to escape – and led him past the remnants of the queue, and through the admiring crowds, to the arena.
The big arena had a total of four entrances or exits, one on each side, three of them tunnels and the fourth a break in the seating adjacent to the smaller arena.  It was to this western entrance she took him, through a little door and into the south-west segment of the undercroft.  (Bobby and co. were presently in the north-west segment.)  She then led him to the other end, by the southern tunnel.  The plan was for Bobby to return via the east tunnel to the south-east segment, and once changed, to walk to the other end where he would right on the opposite side of the southern tunnel – so that, at the signal, they could emerge simultaneously and walk together into the arena, where Miss Poole would introduce them.

It was four-forty by the time all the medals and rosettes had been handed out, the winners climbing a little podium set up in front of the judges’ and committee seating.  The Miss Poole took the microphone and made an announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen – competitors, visitors, and staff – first of all let me thank you for being here today, and making such a huge success of our October show.  I would especially like to thank
”

and so on.  Finally she came round to the punchline.  “But as you may have gathered, our programme is not yet quite complete.  One of our younger talents – and a considerable talent she is – MĂ©lisande Burlington, has, over the past few months, been working on a rather unusual – I think I can say unique - dressage project.  You may have noticed a vignette in the corner of the back cover of today’s programme
(cue rustling of programmes).  I am now, at last, able to introduce you, with considerable surprise, but with great pride, to
MĂ©lisande and
her little Ponybo
”  (She had almost said “Ponybobby”!)  “MĂ©lisande and her little
Ponyboy!”
She gestured towards the main entrance, where MĂ©lisande had contrived to sneak Bobby out largely unnoticed.  As Miss Poole resumed her seat, MĂ©lisande gave Bobby a couple of good hard cracks of her whip and drove him into the arena, his little stubby legs working like pistons!  There was a universal gasp, as it dawned on everyone that it wasn’t an animal she was riding, but a person – indeed, a boy – tightly confined in a pony suit and tightly strapped and bridled up like a real pony. As she rode him proudly around the arena, giving everyone a good view of his gleaming grey suit, sparkly bouncing tail, and colourful face, the audience broke into spontaneous applause - interspersed with whistles and whoops of delight.  The dressage rectangle was still in the very centre of the arena, marked out by cones.  There had been three classes, at novice, elementary, and medium levels, but there had also been demonstrations by two advanced riders, who executed things like flying changes and piaffes.  As far as Bobby and MĂ©lisande were concerned, given that Bobby’s legs lacked knees, their performance had to be very restricted.    MĂ©lisande started him off by riding in big circles around the cones, then took him to one side and executed a couple of figures of eight.  At one point he slipped, but managed to avoid falling, and she gave him three sharp cracks to concentrate his mind, which echoed around the arena and drew gasps and nervous titters from the crowd.  They stung like a bee, and he quickly got back into his routine.  Next she popped him over a row of poles which the ground staff had pulled out during the speech.  It had taken ages to train him to jump, which at one time, given he was unable to flex his legs, seemed almost an impossibility; but at last, by learning to coordinate throwing up his front legs and kicking with his back ones, he had mastered it, and executed the jumps without error. 
That was followed by a lovely straight line trot along one side of the arena and back up the other, as regular as a metronome, with MĂ©lisande sitting very straight and still and correct in the saddle, perfectly in sync with her mount.  Then the same again, but with two neat changes of lead leg each way.  Perhaps the steady pulsing inside his plug, and the regular slapping of his erection against his tummy, helped him keep perfect time. Then an attempt at a leg yield move, and some quite accomplished half passes.  Of course, these were nothing like the real thing, but the moves they were trying to replicate were at least recognisable to many of the afficionados in the stands.  MĂ©lisande wound up the performance with a little rear, which sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t, by leaning forward in the saddle whilst Bobby balanced for a second on his rear legs.  It was risky, but it came off.  The crowd went wild – much to Miss Poole’s satisfaction.  They wouldn’t forget this show for a while!  The little podium was still in place, accessed by a ramp, and MĂ©lisande, impromptu, drove him up onto the top section so the crowd could get a good look at them.  It was really only then that Bobby’s comic face was properly recognised, and figured in many photographs circulating on social media for days afterwards.  But no-one was any the wiser about the secret identity of “Ponyboy”. 
As the cheers and whistles died down, the pair descended from the podium and exited at speed through the eastern tunnel.  Miss Poole was on her feet again.
“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like that at an equestrian meeting!”  she began, checking her watch.  She knew she needed to give Bobby ten minutes to get changed.  “I think you’ll all agree that MĂ©lisande and her little mount have quite an empathetic relationship
”

[Simonssister]

Chapter 211.

As she continued, beneath her feet in the south-east tier there was frenetic activity.  There was also a small hut in that section, consisting only of a bathroom and kitchen diner.  Bobby, aching and sweating, was eased out of his suit and allowed a quick shower.  When he emerged he caught sight for the first time of the back cover of the programme, which was lying on the table.  Yes, there was a blurred image of him as a pony, and there was him in his regular boot boy outfit.  But what made him smile was the photo of Timothy in red and yellow latex.
“Is that what he’s gonna be wearing?  Yes?  That’s hilarious!  Those little pants!”
Cynthia was rummaging in her bag.
“Well you’re lucky, young man.  I’d already made you a sort of superhero outfit, not that different to Timothy’s actually, but in a purplish latex.  I don’t know exactly why, but it came out quite brief and sort of sexy – not really appropriate for your first appearance as Head Boot Boy.  As for Timmy, he’ll have to put up with what he’s got.  He’s only your assistant, after all.  Don’t worry, yours will be perfect for the “specials”.  For today I’ve made you up something rather cute and pastelly in metallic latex.  Let me show you.”
She ripped open a polythene bag, and laid it out on the table.
“Cynthia – we need to get moving,” said Nicole, anxiously.  “Bobby, get it on - quick.  You need to be at the south tunnel in
four minutes.”
It was indeed “cute” – with little frilled shorts and even superhero-style arm bracers, all topped off with a vinyl baseball cap.  Cynthia helped him get dressed.  He had a peek in the mirror, and for once quite liked what he saw.  It suited him rather well.  He had heard that Tim had been telling everyone what a sissy he was going to look – but now he felt confident that it was Tim himself who was going to look the idiot!
He and MĂ©lisande scooted down to the end to await their cue for him to emerge.
“You were fantastic today, Bobby
”
“So were you.  But that whip
”
“Did it sting?”
“I can still feel it
”
They laughed at each other.  There were no hard feelings.  They both felt rather proud that all their weeks of work had come together so successfully.
“They loved us
  You know that?”
“Yes, I think so
  Particularly you, with your pretty ball-gag bit.  I think we may have to keep that now
”
“What
?”
“Listen.  That’s it!  You’re on.”
She opened the door and pushed him out.  Simultaneously Timothy appeared from the door opposite.  He had divested himself of the robe he had been wearing a minute before, when he had ventured out to watch MĂ©lisande and her ponyboy's dressage demonstration, which he’d found most amusing.  “Poor guy,” he’d said to himself.  “What a loser!  Wonder who ‘e is
”  He’d flinched at the crack of MĂ©lisande’s whip.  “Shit!  That must ‘urt!”
Then Miss Poole’s voice boomed over the PA.
“So let me introduce the guys you’ve been waiting to see all day
  Our new permanent boot boys
Bobby Tucker and Timothy Painter!  Boys
show yourselves please!”
For a moment Timothy didn’t move.  He was staring at Bobby.  The colours were right – but he no way looked like a sissy.  In fact, Bobby looked pretty cool and handsome.  And there was he, feeling horribly self-conscious, in those taut little yellow latex “panties”, as Ellie, with a smirk, had called them!  Damn!
Bobby could almost read his mind.  “thank goodness he has no idea I’m also Mellie’s pony,” he said to himself, with a shiver.  He waved.
“Come on Tim – what you waiting for?”  And he led the way out of the tunnel, Timothy reluctantly following ten yards behind.  Bobby was greeted with applause and cheers, but as Timothy stepped into the arena there was an outbreak of screams, squeals, whistles and laughter!  As arranged, Bobby marched up to the podium and climbed onto the first place section, waving to each section of the audience in turn.  Timothy, scowling, cheeks burning, took second position, greeted by the clicking of phone cameras, which only subsided a little when he casually wrapped himself in his cape.
Miss Poole waited for the applause to die down – though the wolf whistles continued for some time – before she resumed.  To judge by the way she was beaming at them, she was more than satisfied with their outfits.
“These two handsome young men are now our official Boot Boys – that’s Bobby in the middle, and his assistant Timmy beside him.  I’m sure you’re all admiring their uniforms.  Superheros – they are indeed, for taking on such an important and arduous job.  But let me assure you that as the days and weeks go on, they will be working in a variety of outfits, which we will of necessity be utilitarian – though, thanks to our dresser, Cynthia of Fantastex – you’ll see details on page seven - we aim to make interesting and eye-catching as well!  Now, the boys have been trained in boot care and boot cosmetics, and are dedicated to giving their customers a courteous, willing and thorough service.  It is part of their philosophy that the customer is always right.  No task it too difficult or onerous, no request will be refused.  They will be there to serve you and cater to all your needs.  Please give them a try, whether you are a professional needing to keep your riding boots in top condition, or a visitor whose fashion boots need a makeover, or anything in between.  The Boot Parlour opens Monday morning.  Bookings are open now at reception.  There has already been quite a rush, and of course they need to cater to the our staff as well, so please be patient if you cannot get an appointment on the day or at the time you were hoping for
.”  She broke off momentarily and looked around.  Several women were leaving their seats and hurrying out of the exits.  “Oh
  I think we may be about to have another spike in bookings
  Well, boys, looks as though you’re going to have your work cut out.  That’s a very sweet outfit, by the way, Bobby.  And Timmy
  You look very dashing in latex, if I may say so
  Really quite impressive...”
Timothy hung his head, and drew his cape more tightly around him, much to the amusement of the audience.
“So, boys, please stay where you are.  If anyone would like to ask the boys questions, or take a snap or two, please be our guest.  Thank you so much for coming along today.  I hope you have all enjoyed the experience, and we hope to see you again at our next show, the date of which I’ll be announcing shortly.  Thank you again, and au revoir!”

Miss Poole resumed her seat, and turned to Diana Murchison, sitting beside her. 
“Are you thinking of availing yourself of their services, dear?”
“It’s already booked.”
“Good girl!  Which one do you prefer
”
“They both have their...er, charms...”
“Of course.   Goodness, they do seem to have made quite a hit with the ladies,” she added, seeing the boys surrounded.  “They won’t get away for a while yet
”

[RibbonBound]

Loving this story so much!  I squeed when Bobby got his little ballgag...  Such an amazing description of the little pony outfit he was trapped in. 

Always eagerly looking for the next chapter!

[Simonssister]

Thanks, RibbonBound!  Your appreciation is much appreciated!

[Simonssister]

Chapter 212.

Sunday was a well-deserved rest day.  Unfortunately for Timothy, several of his friends had attended the Pitt’s Wood show, since when his phone had been flooded with messages – many, much to his chagrin, illustrated with images of him squirming with embarrassment on the podium - not to mention a variety of sarcastic enquiries requesting the help of his superhero powers.  As a result he spent the whole day hiding in his bedroom, leaving his mother to repel callers with the unconvincing intelligence that she “didn’t know where he was”.  To her credit she performed the task with patience and firmness – though it didn’t make him feel any better when she insisted that, whatever anyone else said, she thought he looked “very nice”  in his outfit and she was sure he was going to be appreciated in his new employment.  She was really rather impressed that her son had found himself such a responsible and well-paid job, and proudly boasted to her friends that his picture had appeared on the back of the programme – though most of them had already seen it anyway - as well as those taken or shared by their children.
Everyone else, which is to say Nicole, Lavinia, Bobby, MĂ©lisande, Charlotte, Amelia, and their mothers, were hanging out at Clarissa’s, the youngsters in the garden and the adults indoors, the latter within close proximity to the bottles of wine cooling in the fridge.  Bethany and Natasha had been invited as they could hardly be excluded from the secret, given their daughters were now in the know; moreover Nicole needed to discuss the facilitation scheme, under which the girls would be taught to ride free of charge.  They were both effusively grateful, and swore the identity of MĂ©lisande’s “Ponyboy” should never pass their lips.  As an added bonus, Nicole offered them a free boot-cleaning session with the boys that coming Thursday morning, which they accepted with unanticipated eagerness, accompanied by a lot of girlish giggling and playful slapping of each other; which brought it home to Nicole how perceptive Miss Poole had been in insisting the service be opened up to the public, and especially the dominant local demographic of single women – or those that might as well have been single - in their thirties and beyond.
“Will they be wearing those smart uniforms again?” asked Bethany, coyly.
“Of course, Bethany.  What did you think of them?”
“Oh, well, you know
  I thought they looked very nice
  Didn’t you Natasha?”
“Oh
yes.  Very nice
and very practical too, of course.”
“Oh, very practical
  All those dirty boots
”
“Mind you
”
“Yes, Natasha?”
“I thought Bobby’s was
well, more proper, if you know what I mean
”
“Proper?”
“I suppose I mean smarter.  Will they be wearing their capes, Nicole?”
“Not for work.  They’d just get in the way.”
“I see
”
“So Timmy will be how you saw him – minus cape.  That’s the only uniform he has until next week at the earliest.  Bobby has three.  His original one was blue and yellow.  Wait
I have a photo
  Here.”  The women’s eyes widened.
“That’s
nice,” remarked Bethany.
“Yes
” added Natasha.
“And then there’s the outfit he wore yesterday, and Cynthia – that’s the lady who does all our uniforms – Cynthia has another one which is also sort of superhero, more like Timmy’s.”
“Oh really?  Like Timmy’s?” said Natasha, interested. 
“Yes, with little trunks instead of shorts.”
“Oh
I see
” said Natasha, with a sidelong glance at her friend.
“We were going to reserve it for Friday – friends of Miss Poole, you know – but if you like he can wear it for you guys on Thursday.  That would be quite useful, actually.  You could tell us what you thought.  If you wouldn’t mind, that is
”
“Oh, no, of course not!” cried Bethany.  “Only to happy to be of assistance.  Eh, Natasha?”
Natasha nodded vigorously. 
“That’s very kind, ladies.  It’s so helpful to have some feedback, especially in these early days.  And I mean positive and negative feedback.  If the boys don’t behave themselves, for instance, I expect you to report it.”
“Oh, I’m sure
” Bethany began.
“No, not necessarily.  Both of them can be rebellious at times.  Miss Poole doesn’t stand for any nonsense.  They must do anything the customer demands – it’s even written in their contracts.”
“A-anything?” gasped Natasha.
“Yes – anything.  Feel free to test them out.  Have a bit of fun at their expense, if you will.  Tease them a bit.  It’s good for them.  That’s half the reason we gave them such cute little outfits.  It makes them more obedient and compliant.”  She winked.  “It’s very difficult to be rude to a customer when you’re wearing little latex panties.  All you want to do is to be as obliging as possible in the hope they’ll be nice to you
.”
Natasha and Bethany looked at each other.  They were beginning to grasp the possibilities.  Natasha swallowed.
“We understand, Nicole
” 
There was a pause in the conversation.  Bethany and Natasha took sips from their glasses, and stared vacantly out through the French windows, where their daughters were sitting in a little circle with Bobby and MĂ©lisande, deep in conversation.
“Look at them
” murmured Natasha.  “They’re so happy now
”
“Long may it last
” added Bethany.