Everyone’s got a teacher or an aunt, a family friend or neighbour maybe who has a strong presence about her. The sort you know not to cross. The sort who commands respect simply by the way she stands; proud and confident, and they way the speak with authority and determination. Mrs Arkwright is just this sort of woman, and much against his better judgement, William removes his underwear and sheepishly steps into the bath alongside his friend for fear of experiencing her wrath.
Both boys are embarrassed beyond belief when the forthright woman begins to scrub and sponge their hands, arms, shoulders and faces. Both protest that they can wash themselves but she wants it done properly… reminding them that they stink of both wood smoke and pond gunk. “That smells like perfume!” William whined as she upended a bottle of something into the bath before proceeding to rinse and wash their hair.
“Oh stop whining boy… it is perfume. You can’t go home stinking of wood smoke can you?” Mrs Arkwright retorted. “Your mothers would know you’d skipped school.”
The boys figure that she has a point and after being scrubbed and rinsed, she gives them a hand towel each with which to dry themselves. She scoops up their underwear before leaving them. “I’ll be in the bedroom opposite… come in when you’ve dried yourselves off.”
The boys dry their body’s and hair. Andrew sniffs his forearm and inhales the sweet fragrance. “I think I preferred smelling of wood smoke.” he moaned. William, having just dried his hair, puts his face into the towel and also grumbles at the scent he detects. “Surely she didn’t have to pour the whole bottle in.” Andrew frowned as he wrapped the small hand towel around his waist. “You done?” he asked William.
“Yeah.” William nodded. “These towels could be a bit bigger.” he said, holding it around his waist before they headed to the bedroom opposite.
“All dry boys?” she asked as they entered. They nodded in unison. “I’ve found you both something to wear whilst your clothes are being washed.” she says, gesturing toward the bed.
“They’re girls clothes.” Andrew gulped.
“Well… I’m afraid I’m a bit short of boys clothes.” she replied. “I have a niece about your age who visits occasionally… so you’ll have to make do with hers.”
“I’m not wearing a dress!” William stated. He’s clearly exasperated that she even suggesting such as thing. Andrew was in much the same frame of mind.
“It’s only for an hour.” she told them. “No one will see you and no one need know… and I can’t have you waiting in the nude whilst I deal with your muddy clothes can I?”
With great reluctance, the boys dress in the clothes she’d chosen for them. “You better not say anything to anyone about this!” Andrew threatened as he stepped into a pair of very frilly knickers.
“I won’t!” William stated, as if that should have been obvious. “As if I would!?” he added after pulling on a lace trimmed vest and looking down at himself.
“I think the buttons go up the back.” Andrew advised as William sheepishly stepped into his dress.
“How are you supposed to fasten them if they go at the back?” William quizzed.
Andrew’s dress is of a similar style. “We’ll have to do each others.” he mournfully suggested. William hung his head in shame as he experienced the humiliation of being buttoned into a dress, by none other than his best friend. Once done, Andrew turned so William could fasten the buttons on his dress.
Mrs Arkwright returned. “I was just coming to see if you needed any help with the buttons.” she said before looking them up and down and saying “They don’t look too bad.”
“They look awful!” Andrew protested as he continued fastening William’s buttons. “Only girls wear dresses.” he claimed in a most whiny voice.
“Not until your clothes have washed and dried.” Mrs Arkwright said in a chirpy tone. Once they’d buttoned each other into their frocks and donned a pair of girl’s knee socks, they returned downstairs and sat sheepishly in her lounge. “What’s that noise?” William asked as something began to loudly rumble.
“It’s the washing machine.” Mrs Arkwright proudly replied, before telling them that it’s fully automatic, lots easier and far quicker than a twin-tub. “You just throw dirty clothes in and clean ones come out.” she said. “It’s a godsend!”
