They said their final goodbyes as Charlotte donned her warm winter coat and Mark pulled on his cosy hooded cape. “You need to do your lipstick before we go.” she advised her son.
“Do I?” Mark asked. “We’re only going home.” he said.
“When you’re wearing lipstick you need to keep topping it up.” his mother told him. “…and we’re going outside so you need to make sure you look nice.” she added.
“Oh err…” Mark bashfully mumbled, opening his handbag, facing the hallway mirror, swallowing his pride and re-applying his lipstick as Jacob and his mother watched. His painted fingernails do indeed match his lips, he noted.
“It’s a lovely colour.” Lydia said as he replaced the lid. “What’s it called?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.” Mark inverted the lipstick. “Chestnut blush.” he timidly read from the base.
“You’d suit that shade.” Lydia said to Jacob, who gulped and probably blushed beneath his thick layer of foundation. “Be careful in those heels Mark.” Lydia advised as Charlotte opened the door.
“I will.” Mark replied as they stepped outside.
“Brrr it’s freezing out here.” Jacob said from the doorway, standing with his legs together and huddling his bare arms.
“Well get yourself in and shut that door before all the heat escapes.” Charlotte smiled. Lydia gave them a final wave and shut the door. Mark and his mother trudged down the garden path. The thin layer of snow crunched beneath their feet.
“Didn’t Jacob and Alfie look lovely in their matching party dresses?” Charlotte said to her son as they strolled through the darkness.
“Alfie looked OK but Jacob was dressed like a six year old.” Mark glumly replied. “I’m glad you didn’t get me anything like that.” he added.
“Party dresses are nice for boys of all ages.” his mother said. “Back in the day we’d have never put a young woman in anything like that but it’s different for boys. Jacob looked lovely, especially with his hair in curls and those fancy knee socks.”
“Jacob clearly didn’t think so.” Mark stated.
“I think he did.” Mark’s mother replied. They walked in silence for a while; back through the park which apart from a sole dog walker, was deserted. The lucent layer of crisp white snow under the darkness gave the sparsely lit park an eerie air. The trees stood tall and slender. Their naked branches reached up to the sky, silhouetted against a thick layer of charcoal grey cloud. “It’s chilly.” his mother said. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“OK” Mark said. “This time I know what to expect from just a pair of tights.” he figured. “My dress is nice and warm though… especially with this cape.”
“Velvet is warm.” his mother smiled. “That’s why I bought it.” she said. “…and you’ll soon acclimatise to just wearing tights.”
“Yeah.” Mark glumly agreed. He watched his feet as they strolled, encased in his new sturdy suede boots, perched high on a pair of chunky three inch heels. He recalled how awkward high heels felt when he first wore them in the summer. It’s been a good six months since then and he’s both surprised and relieved at how easily he’s taken to wearing them again. The sparkly snowflakes that decorate his skirt twinkle and glisten with each forward step and the heavy velvet swishes and sways against the backs of his legs. His sturdy boots crunch into the frosty ground and whilst he can feel the wintry air through his knitted tights, his legs don’t feel as chilly as they had earlier in the day.