Going out ‘3’
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an and Jessica stayed for an hour, downing more beers with no apparent
increase in drunkenness, until eventually their Uber arrived and they
piled out, ready for more. Tan careful wrote out an address before left,
thrusting it at Rob.

"Bans, it's going to be an amazing party. Fancy dress, don't wuss out.
And bring your posh friend, too." She gave me a hug after that, to show
there was no hard feelings - and squeezed my arse, too. Honestly, it was
exactly like whenever Rob brought his rugby friends back.

When the Uber had finally gone, we both collapsed next to each other on
the sofa.

"Sorry about that, mate, they were kind enough to give me a lift, so I
thought I ought to repay them."

"You're not really going to a party, are you?"

Rob shrugged and exhaled heavily, staring at nothing in particular. I
poked him in the side.

"So, apart from the drinking, how were the celebrations? I assume you
were man of the match? Woman of the match," I corrected.

He shook his head, seeming to come to. It was like watching a veteran of
a foreign conflict finding himself back at the base for the first time
in a long time.

"First of all, pot-match hot tub. All of us."

I stared at him. "No!" For some reason, all I could think of was a stern
lecture we'd all been given by the university legal department about
extra-curriculum fraternizing. "I assume this was, erm, clothes off?"

He nodded, still staring into space.

"Wow," I said impressed. "Was it, erm..." I couldn't think what to say.
"How was it?"

"I mean, obviously, first five minutes I didn't know where to look. Then
I looked down and thought well, I've got the biggest tits in the place
so I don't know what I'm being coy about. After that, a lot of splashing
about and singing."

"Oh," I said. Part of me was obscurely disappointed it wasn't actually
an adolescent boy's dream come true. I suppose I'd assumed there'd be
more... soaping.

"And then we got changed - girls" changing rooms do smell nicer than the
ones I'm used to, I'll give them that."

"Right," I said finally. Rob had gone quiet again. He seemed to have
found the whole thing quite overwhelming. I got up and made us both a
cup of tea. It seemed the supportive flatmate thing to do. He looked at
me when I sat down and handed him his mug as though no time had passed.

"And then we went to the pub and started drinking, soaked up with some
chips. And this one girl, Tara, she'd been playing footsie with me in
the hot tub the whole time. She said she had something she wanted to
talk to me about in the ladies, so I went in with her and we went into a
cubicle together and she pushed me back against the wall and put her
fingers right into my pants, didn't even ask."

I nearly spat out my tea, but managed to swallow it carefully instead,
even if it was far too hot.

"She what?"

"Straight in there. Proper fingering. I didn't know what to do."

"Jesus Christ!" No wonder Rob hand looked so freaked out. I tried to
think of something comforting to say but couldn't manage come up with
anything. Rob seemed to realise he was holding a mug of tea then and
took a long sip.

"I was just stunned, really. Then she started kissing me while she was
still... you know, and I got the feeling this was a regular thing. Bit
of wham bam thank you Bans, and never mention it again."

He fell silent again, the faraway look still in the eyes. I patted his
arm comfortingly - not something I'd have done before, but it felt
right.

"Over and done before I knew it," he finished quietly.

"So," I said, "do you want to talk to the sports authority about
harassment, or..."

He stared at me. "Are you kidding? It was amazing!"

Now it was my turn to stare. "Wait, what?"

He took a deep sip of his tea and sighed happily. "Bloody hell, mate,
I've had quick knee-tremblers before, but nothing like that. I just
melted, you know? Saw fireworks going off, the whole deal. Got wet
thinking about it on the way home." He shifted on the sofa. "Truth be
told I'm having a bit of a gusher just telling you about it now, like."

I leaned away from him at that, not that he cared, still staring into
space, the thousand-yard stare I'd put down to trauma turning out to be
post-coital satisfaction instead.

"Right," I said. "Well." Trying to keep the shock out of my voice.

"And how was your afternoon?" he asked innocently. Except, somehow, he
knew something had happened. So, I told him everything. Well, nearly
everything. I told him I'd met Francesca after the match, but not that
my dad had died, just that she'd been there to support Banshari too, in
a way, about how we'd gone for a talk and seen Katie, but she hadn't
seen me. And that Francesca had complimented herself, but really, she'd
complimented me (or possibly the other way around) and I'd realised
she'd been attracted to me and that had got me tense and how I'd tried
to take matters into hand but had fallen at the final hurdle.

Rob had nodded sympathetically throughout and even squeezed my knee
encouragingly at the end. Without thinking about it I'd stretched my
long legs over his lap as we'd talked, even absent-mindedly playing with
Banshari's hair at one point.

"It's all more complicated, isn't it?" he said thoughtfully. "Bans is up
for it, night or day, I reckon, but clearly you're harder work. I could
have a go if you like?"

I goggled at him, instinctively putting my hands between my legs.
"You're kidding?"

"Nothing funny. But as I'm the first one to lose my virginity, so to
speak, I could help you through it. Have a shower, do each other's hair,
then I could help you get to grips with the feminine mystery." He
waggled Banshari's dark eyebrows at me suggestively. "You don't even
have to buy me a drink afterwards."

"Um," I said carefully, "That's a very kind offer but I think I'll work
it out myself, thanks. Or just cross my legs until next Wednesday."

"Fine." He shoved my legs off his lap and stood up. "I'm going to put
the hot water on, change my knickers and have a bath. It's been hell of
a day."

The food delivery arrived twenty minutes later, which I guess proves
life really is different when you have money. A female delivery person
too. She dropped the boxes off, waited until I'd signed for them and was
off.

Rob was lured down from his bath by the smell of pizza. He wrapped in a
dressing gown and for the first time had wrapped his hair up in a towel.

"Party!" he mumbled through a mouthful of pepperoni. "Bans is well up
for this sort of thing I reckon."

I looked at him, deciding to avoid even trying to get out of the party
thing for the moment. I knew what Rob was like when he set his heart on
going out. Avoiding getting dragged along with him was a delicate,
multi-stage operation. First you had to claim a mild illness, then that
you had other plans, then at the last minute that those other plans had
fallen through but now you weren't really up for it. Anything less
subtle than that got an effect like kicking a puppy. "We're definitely
going with 'Bans' now, are we?"

He shrugged, picking a long string of melted mozzarella out of his
cleavage. "Mmm. I mean, I guess so? Be a bit weird to use the full name
if no-one calls her that."

The only person who'd called Francesca by any name at all had been that
annoyed redhead at the hockey pitch, and she'd definitely gone for the
full formal. But it was hard to know what conclusion to draw from that.
I wasn't sure Francesca was a "Fran" though, it sounded too hippyish.
Also, "Bans and Fran'? Not sure.

"Oh hey," he continued, already onto his second slice. "Jessica said
Katie was going tonight."

My mouth moved for a moment without any actual sound coming out.
"Katie?" I managed finally. "Are you sure?"

"That's what she said." Rob was eyeing another slice of pizza now. "Do
you want that? I reckon I've burned a lot of calories today, one way or
the other."

I turned the plate around so he could access it. I'd barely even managed
one slice, and now the conversation had turned, my stomach was doing
flipflops. "Katie?" I asked again. "Really?"

"She drops in sometimes, apparently. Student liason-ing or something"
said Rob. "Anyway, I'm going to go and find something to wear. You
should think about that too. If you're coming, I mean."

I was barely listening. Katie, going to a student party? It didn't sound
like her. But maybe I didn't know her that well. Obviously, I was
annoyed that she felt happy to turn up to student parties when I'd been
worrying at just being in the same bar as a couple of students. And I'd
been right: look at how that had turned out.

On the other hand... what if she didn't turn up to the mentoring thing
tomorrow? I didn't know if I could set up anything thing else, what with
it being half term coming up, it just wouldn't be realistic. And if
Katie was going to a party, wouldn't it be easier to get her to talk
about her ex-boyfriend (or maybe even on again, off again boyfriend)
than at a university-sanctioned social event? Huh, this could work.

I hovered outside Rob's closed bedroom door. "What are you wearing?" I
asked, as though the idea of not going had never entered my mind.

The door opened, Rob dangling a white cotton drawstring blouse from a
hanger. "I'm thinking, lady pirate?"

I tried not to sigh. Rob went to everything as a pirate. He'd go to his
own wedding dressed as Jack Sparrow if he could. It was weird. "What
about you?"

"Not sure," I said, and ten minutes later, staring into Francesca's
wardrobe, I still wasn't. I'd scrolled through all Francesca's party-
related selfies, and there were a lot, but everything was a bit...
revealing. Or strappy. Or both. Surely there had to be a way to just
blend in. With a fancy dress party. I could just wear... black? Go goth?

I pulled a skirt out and held it up. Puffed-up black netting, little
silver mirrors all over it and... it would barely cover my thighs and
also... it was a skirt. I swallowed and put it back. Maybe this was a
really bad idea after all. I wasn't ready for this. And then I saw it.

Rob had really gone for it. A laced corset type affair over a billowing
white shirt, some sort of wrap skirt affair with little bells hanging
off it and knee-high leather boots. He'd also backcombed Banshari's hair
and found some gold hooped earrings. A little shorter and wider of hip
than the average Hollywood pirate wench, but he looked good.

"Is that eye-shadow?" I asked, incredulously. Rob shrugged, and I wished
he hadn't, because the white shirt was open right down the front and
things took a while to settle back down.

"Seemed a bit lame to draw the line at make-up," he said and eyed me
critically up and down. "I see what you've done there."

I looked down at myself. Going for black had definitely been the right
choice. Francesca looked good in black, which was handy, because the
onesie covered me from head to toe. Well, not quite to toe, but I'd
found a pair of converse boots in a corner of the front room that fitted
well.

I pulled the hood over my head so the cat ears stood proud. "What do you
mean, you see what I've done?"

Rob took a beer, bit the cap off with Banshari's teeth and took a swig.
"You've gone for technically dressing up, in a way that means you don't
have to actually risk putting it all out there."

"I'm not entirely sure," I said brushing a bit of imaginary dust off
one cat arm, "that I have quite as much to put out there as you do. So,
I decided to work with what I had."

I checked myself out in the front room mirror. That was the thing about
a girls" shared house, apparently, you were never far from your
reflection. Or someone's reflection, anyway.

The cat onesie had seemed like a safe bet when I got it on. Zipped right
up to the neck, so I didn't have to reveal too much flesh, although I
was wearing a bra and one of Francesca's little strappy tops underneath,
as well as a pair of cycling shorts because what if it had caught in a
door or unravelled or something?

"Hmm," I said. Because I was starting to realise that although a onesie
might at first glance have seemed like a cheat code for someone who
didn't want to try too hard, this was quite an expensive onesie. It
nipped in quite sharply at the waist and when I turned round to check
out my cat tail, I realised it fitted quite closely behind me as well.
Or possibly Francesca was just one of those people who could wear a
binbag and make it look both sophisticated and sexy.

"Shit," I said. "Maybe I should-"

"Too late," said Rob. "We're off."

It took a fair amount of wriggling before I was comfortable and ready to
drive, what with having a tail and everything now. "Fuck's sake," I
muttered, only then realising Rob was giving me a sly sideways look.

"What?" I said irritably.

He took a swig from his beer and smirked. "Nothing," he said. "Just a
pleasure to watch you in motion."

"Christ, I'm jiggling around, aren't I? Tell me I'm not jiggling."

"Mate," said Rob, indicating downward. "I know about jiggling, look at
this." He poked the top of his chest with a finger. We watched for a
while until it had subsided.

"How do you reckon it would have panned out," he asked, belching
thoughtfully as I finally got the car started and drove off. "If it had
been you in Bans and me as the sophisticated brunette one?"

Huh. I thought about it. "I don't know the rules of hockey for a start."
But it was a good question. Banshari was just... bouncier than
Francesca, in every way that counted, and Rob, I was starting to
realise, was way more open-minded than I'd ever given him credit for. I
suspected if I'd ended up in Banshari, I'd probably still be wrapped up
in a dressing gown trying to deny what was literally in front of me. By
now, Rob would probably have punched someone. Possibly me.

We parked just round the corner from the address Rob had been given. A
big house, detached, so at least the noise wouldn't annoy too many
people. I didn't remember thinking things like that when I'd been a
student myself. I realised then that my main worry about going to this
party wasn't that I was in someone else's body but that I was far too
old and everyone would know it the moment I stepped inside. I turned the
car off and sat for a moment. Paranoia aside, was this a stupid idea? I
had a rough idea of Francesca's social circle but in the face of any
determined questioning it was going to be pretty obvious either
Francesca had had some sort of serious head trauma or... I wasn't
actually Francesca. Also, what if this costume looked stupid?

"You're sure it's fancy dress?" I asked for the fourth time. Silently,
Rob pointed out of the car window at two Harry Potters and three
different Hermiones entering the house, then flipped the mirror down,
applied a lipstick, blotted it with a bit of toilet paper he'd produced
from apparently nowhere and smacked his lips appreciatively before
tucking the lipstick away.

He caught my eye. "What?"

"Nothing," I said quickly. "It's a good idea. Get into character. Let's
maybe just try and remember in reality we're, you know, blokes in our
near-forties." A moment I then ruined by picking up a fluffy black bag
and slipping it over my shoulder because cat onesies didn't have pockets
and I needed somewhere to keep Francesca's car keys, phone and wallet.

"All right," I said. "Let's go." But Rob had already gone.

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