Chapter 138. W.I.M.P.S.
The boys’ temporary revisiting of normality came to an abrupt end at seven the following morning, when Kimona and company were despatched to their bedroom with instructions to wake them. This task was achieved by the simple of expedient of jumping on the bed whilst screaming exhortations to get up, though not without reciprocal and less polite responses. Half an hour later they were sitting in the kitchen, bleary-eyed, drinking coffee, fending off enquiries from their erstwhile tormentors.
“Where are you going, Philip? Why aren’t you babies any more? Aren’t you going to be babies? Boring. Mummy, why aren’t they babies? That was fun.”
“Yes, it was,” whined Dorelia. “And we only got to change them properly once. Why can’t they? Have they been bad?”
“Don’t be silly, Dorry! They were made into babies cos they were bad,” corrected Kimona, then added, after a moment’s thought, “and they’re always going to be bad, so I think they should be babies forever!”
“Well darling,” soothed Dana, “you know we can’t keep them as babies forever. For one thing, it’s too much work.”
“We’d look after them,” cried Lucy.
“I’m sure you would, dear. But don’t be sad – you’ll still be able to play with them. We’re sending them both for siss…er, I mean girly training. They’re going to a special place where naughty big boys go to learn how to behave like well-manned young ladies.”
“Ooh. Does that mean Philip will have to wear his fairy dress again?”
Philip closed his eyes in despair. Matthew glanced at him with an expression of questioning interest.
“Oh, I’m sure he will, darling,” smiled Toni. “He looked so sweet in it, didn’t he?”
Philip interrupted, desperate to change the subject.
“So what’s the plan Dana?”
“We’re leaving at nine-thirty. We’re going to take you to Westonbrook, turn straight round and come back. We’re taking the girls to Legoland today. Jessica’s waiting for you. You’ll be in good hands. We’ll come to see you in a few days.”
“Can we come with you, mummy? To Western…wherever it is. We’ll be good!”
“Yes, can we?” said Dorelia.
“’Fraid not, girls,” said Jess, firmly. We’re only taking one car, and all we’re doing is dropping them off.”
“Ohhh…”
“Don’t worry. You’ll see them soon enough. Just think how glamorous they’re going to be! So you can say your goodbyes here. Now make sure you’ve had enough breakfast, because we won’t be eating again till this afternoon.”
At nine-thirty the boys received affectionate farewells from the four girls. They had had cereal with milk and honey for breakfast, so the boys’ cheeks were soon sticky and smelling of sweet milk from their kisses. As Kimona hugged Philip, she whispered in his ear, “don’t forget. Ask if you can wear a fairy dress, won’t you? See if they have a pretty sparkly one! Promise?”
“I promise, Kim,” sighed Philip.
“And wear it for me when I come to visit.”
“If they have one, I will. I promise.”
“Bye bye, Philip. I love you. Have a nice time at…West-on-Books…”
The boys were mainly silent during the drive. Westonbrook was not that different from how they had imagined. It had been a Victorian primary school – red brick with little stone spires, behind a thick red brick wall pierced with one black iron gate, with a playground in front of the building. Standing on the front steps was a woman Philip didn’t recognise.
“That’s not her!” whispered Philip.
She was wearing an old-fashioned black serge suit which came nearly to her ankles, and an expression of implacable disapproval. Her grey-streaked hair was scraped back and tied in a bun. She had her hands clasped before her, in a sort of I’ve-already-made-up-my-mind-about-you-two gesture. The omens did not feel good. They clambered reluctantly out of the car. Dana exchanged a few words with the woman, and, with a wink and a wave, was gone. She surveyed her new charges with something verging on disgust.
“I am Jessica Greystone, the principal of this establishment. And you are?”
“Er, I’m Philip, and this is Matthew…”
“Yes. You will address me as “miss”, always, or “Miss Greystone”. Is that understood?”
“Er, yes, of course…miss. You’re not the lady I met at my aunt’s….”
“No. Jill Manchester has left. I have taken over.”
“Ah…I see…yes, it was Jill…that’s right…she was younger than you….”
That was a mistake.
“No doubt she was. She was also rather easy-going, which I am not. Now, you need to get out of those clothes. We do not allow males in male clothing anywhere on the grounds. Inside, at once.”
She shepherded them through the oak door into a gloomy corridor.
“Miss Beatson! They’re here. Please deal with them at once. I’ll see them in my study at the end of lunch.”
“Yes Miss Greystone. This way, you two. Quickly!”
She marched down the corridor, heels clicking threateningly on the old floorboards. She opened a door.
“Shoes off! Socks too. Now!”
They struggled with their shoes and socks. Her tone was of a kind that demanded obedience. She ushered them in. They found themselves in a room which could not have been less like the corridor they had just left. The first thing they noticed was the soft carpet under their bare feet – fluffy and pink. The ceiling white, studded with bright downlights. A large, long room, with two doors in each of the side and end walls. Between the doors, tall cupboards – wardrobes! Philip could see dresses peeping out of an open door. In the middle of the room, a long cabinet, with drawers all around, and three stools. On the top, two sewing machines, measuring tapes, ribbons, threads – everything for dressmaking. The boys goggled. But the biggest surprise of all was still to come. One of the side doors quietly opened, and Philip was assailed by a familiar voice.
“’Allo, darlin’! ‘Ow is yer, then?
For a split second he thought it might be Rebecca. He wheeled round. Sally Buttons! Grinning all over her cheeky face.
“I ‘ear you an’ ‘im’s bin in nursery for a while. Well. Welcome back to the grown-up world!”
She threw her arms round Philip, enveloping him in a suffocating cloud of ‘Coup de Nouveau’ perfume – her favourite – and planting a violent kiss on his cheek. Matthew, startled, took a step back.
“S-Sally!” gasped Philip. “How lovely to see you again! What are you doing here?”
“Workin’, silly. Button’s Beauticians at yer service. Come in once a week to sort out Miss Greystone’s boys and make ‘em presentable. When I ‘eard you was comin’, I changed my schedule so I could be ‘ere to meet yer.”
Philip was dumbfounded.
“Well? Ain’t you gonna introduce me?”
“Oh, yes, course. Matthew, this is Sally. Sally is a makeup…”
“Artist,” inserted Sally. “And in ‘ere, it’s Miss Buttons, I’m afraid.”
“Oh. Sorry…Miss Buttons. Yes. Er, makeup artist…yeah. She…er…helped me with…you know…when I was…”
“When ‘e was just startin’ out. ‘E was ‘alf way there already, with ‘is pretty face and ‘is little titties. I ‘ope you’re going to be as easy, Maffew.”
“M-me?” stammered Matthew, at something of a loss.
“In course! Why else is you ‘ere? You’re both gonna get the best I can give yer!”
Miss Beatson looked on with a grim smile.
“Betty? I got everyfing I need. Do you wanna come back just before lunch, an’ I’ll ‘ave ‘em all ready for yer. Like we discussed, right?”
“Perfect, Sally. Boys, you do just what Miss Buttons tells you, is that clear? And by the way, while you’re here it’s Philippa and Matilda, right? I’ll see you later.”
Miss Beatson exchanged a wink with Sally, and withdrew. Sally looked Philip and Matthew up and down.
“I fink you’ve grown, Philippa. Matilda, you’re nearly as big. Not so cute, mind. You’re gonna take a little bit of work. Right, into the shower – that door – there are towels and everyfing in there – and chuck yer cloves out after you’re undressed. Off you go then!”
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Topic: The Settlement (Read 88832 times)
