Basingstoke had little in the way of a scene when London’s only two stops away on the express there was no great demand for one.
I had traveled up to Town a few times when I first moved into the area, but Old Compton Road held no attraction for me, or I for it.
The urge to develop muscles had never taken me, diet and exercise kept me trim, any further would conflict with my transvestism.
I took great pains not to parody femininity when dressed, something a sculpted parody of masculinity would make even more difficult.
There seemed nothing to do but fall back on those colleagues who had attempted to set me up over the years.