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Look after him, he's amate, my best mate. Don't hurt him." Tim! I'm fine, never better. Now go."He looked back once, from the weed ravaged driveway. I waved, still naked,though I had tied my hair back into a luxurious pony tail with a bright,polka-dotted hair band. Tim waved back, then ran, pushing at the lowbranches. I knew he'd return.A dab of sweet perfume behind each ear, more on my wrists. I bound mybreasts with a cream bra she'd left draped over the back of a chair. Mynipples showed pink through the pretty, lace cups; Tim would have liked tosee me in it. There were matching panties in her underwear drawer, then Idrew black, lace patterned tights over my long, smooth legs, settled theirwaistband and admired their look in her mirror. A sheer white blouse,covered in rows of smart black spots was gossamer over my skin before Istepped into a vivid purple, flared and layered skirt that finished just acouple of inches over my lacy knees.More cherry-red to make my lips gleam, bold blue. I also got curious looks next period from Mr Partington in French as I raced through an oral translation with few missteps. In music, I startled Mr Armitage when he heard me murmuring “Tchaikovsky’s sixth” when he played us the scherzo movement on the record player. At the end of the class, I could see he was thinking about asking me about it, but I managed to slip out, leaving his questioning look unanswered.I realised I was going to have to be a bit more careful about showing my knowledge and intellectual skills – assuming I was marooned in this world, which seemed increasingly likely.On the number 7 (hooray) bus trip home, I worried at my situation. This world was almost the same as mine but there were Col and the family living in what had been his house. This was different from my world. If I was stuck here, I really needed to find out how different this world was, but there was no Internet, Google or Wikipedia in 1962. My parents did have a newspaper delivered every day. I would.
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