The Sins of Jack Branson by David Schulze

Author:David Schulze
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: David Schulze Books

2. When Mary Met Louise…

'I swear to God, slow down,' Louise muttered.

Mary frantically scrubbed a dirty dish. 'I can stack them next to you.'

'You're rushing. I'm drying off soap.'

'You use crummy lipstick. Thought you'd be used to smelly paste.'

Louise pointed at Mary's soap-soaked apron. 'Love the dress, dirty whore.'

'You wish you had this look.'

I rubbed my forehead. 'Can we get back on topic, please?'

'Which was?' Louise muttered, smacking Mary's hand.

'How did you find out you liked cross-dressing?'

'The same way everyone does,' Mary replied. 'My sister's knick­ers.'

'Speak for yourself!' Louise cried. 'It was my sister's brassiere.'

'No wonder. Her breasts were as big as yours.'

'Yeah, almost as big as your sis's cunt.'

'HUSH UP ABOUT HER CUNT!'

I stopped writing. 'Hold on. You two knew each other?'

Louise furrowed his brow. 'We went to school in Liverpool. What'd you think we were? Strangers?'

'We pass as brothers,' Mary teased.

'Shut it, Belcher!' Louise barked.

'Oh, wow!' Mary said with a laugh. 'That brings me back.'

'What's a Belcher?' I asked.

'It's my name,' Mary explained. 'My real name. Georgie Belcher.' (Mary seamlessly slipped into his real voice, a butch Liverpudlian accent. It made me flinch.)

'Mine's much less nauseating,' Louise said. 'Corey Kehoe.' (Same accent, much coarser.)

I jotted down the names. 'You two were friends?'

'Absolutely not!' Louise said with revolted insistence. 'I was his bully.'

I stopped. 'What.'

'He was younger, I had a gang. What else was there to do?'

'I don't know, read a book?'

'That's what I did!' Mary declared.

Louise rolled his eyes.

'What did your parents say?' I asked.

'They didn't care,' Louise retorted. '"Boys will be boys." Once throwing rocks at abandoned buildings lost its edge, we started throwing rocks at the younger kids.'

I winced. 'That's awful.'

'Not as awful as his aim,' Mary chimed in.

'I hit you plenty,' Louise chided.

'Fifty per cent, tops.'

'Five out of ten's still five in the face.'

I cringed. 'The face?!'

'No one was worse than Kehoe,' Mary said. 'I hated him.'

'I hated me too,' Louise added. 'Hated my life. Hated Liverpool. Hated my parents, but they hated me first. My gang didn't hate me, but only because they wanted to see what I did to the other kids. I couldn't tell them I liked dressing like a girl. I'd lose the only friends I was lucky enough to get.'

Mary dashed to the pantry to grab a new bar of soap. 'I wish I had fake friends. Anything's better than being alone.'

'How did you find out about each other?' I asked.

'I was sitting in the outdoor privy,' Mary answered from in­side the pantry. 'Trousers down, knickers around my ankles. I was crying, so I couldn't hear anyone walking up, and I didn't know the lock was broken. Suddenly the door opens, and there's Corey bloody Kehoe.'

'And I saw everything,' Louise added. 'His face, his cock… but I kept staring at his knickers.'

'I was screaming my head off,' Mary continued, 'scared to death of what Kehoe was going to do with me.'

'But you know what I did?' Louise asked. 'I lifted my shirt, showed my brassiere.' He snapped his fingers. 'Best mates.

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