Sleeping with the Enemy

The present day...

The wedding party was in full swing now and I anxiously scanned the guests to see if everybody was enjoying themselves. Noise levels had risen in line with the amount of drink being consumed, so I guess that was a good enough proxy for enjoyment. I was holding a glass of champagne in my perfectly manicured fingers and as I took a sip I caught the eye of my new husband who had been buttonholed by two of my aged relatives. His eyes pleaded with me to rescue him but I simply grinned and raised my glass to him; I would leave him there for a while to torture him. I stretched my toes, and I had begun to regret my choice of brand new Louboutin shoes to the wedding, but they had looked so good on my feet in the shop.

My husband, which still sounded odd even to myself, was wearing a new Savile Row suit and I have to say it looked stunning on him. He is tall and slim, extremely handsome in the English style, perfectly groomed and always wears his clothes well; my two spinster aunts couldn't get enough of him. We had been married in the Registrar's Office only two hours ago and had come straight to the reception in a marquee in the grounds of a hotel on the banks of the River Thames.

I was talking to, or rather, being talked at, by two of my husband's colleagues from work. I smiled warmly at them despite the fact they were probably the two most boring men I had ever met. They were so in love with the sound of their own voices they had no idea I had stopped listening to them a while ago and was on social autopilot, nodding and smiling at them almost at random. They would not notice if I did a handstand in front of them.

I was rescued by Hugo: my PA, best friend, shoulder to cry on, keeper of my secrets and the most beautiful looking man you could ever hope to clap eyes on. As he pushed his way towards me, most of the women, and some of the men, stole admiring glances at him.

He appeared at my side, kissed my cheek and whispered to me, 'Livvie, honey, couldn't you have found something new to wear?'

I giggled, because he knew the vintage Dior dress I was wearing had cost a small fortune, and I loved it.

'You bitch,' I hissed back, 'where's your little twink gone?'

Hugo had arrived with his latest boyfriend, a pretty thing who barely looked old enough to drink.

'Oh I don't know, probably being screwed by one of your uncles I dare say. I should go and find him before he gets pissed and gropes someone.'

'Does his mummy know he's out?'

He pulled a face, kissed me again, nodded in the direction of my husband and whispered, 'Congratulations you old hag, He's a lucky man.'

He winked and disappeared in search of his man child. I thought about what Hugo had said and I looked across to where my husband stood, caught his eye and smiled. He grinned shyly back and as I thought about what he was wearing under his suit and what the two of us would be doing in a few hours time in the Bridal Suite in the hotel, my cock began to tingle inside my silk knickers.

One year ago...

However hard we try to leave the past behind, sometimes the past won't leave us alone. Things we thought buried years ago can reach out and drag us back in an instant.

It had been a busy day in the Estate Agency and I was thinking about how I could manage a quick lunch when one of the Negotiators buzzed through on the internal phone. She apologised and said there was a potential client who was insisting on speaking to the boss before he decided whether to use us. We deal with high end properties and it's not unusual for our clients to check us out before committing to appoint us.

'Sally, that's fine, bring him through to my office, will you? Thanks.'

I stood and smoothed my skirt and automatically checked my look in the mirror on the back of the door. I walked across and opened the door ready to greet this potential new client. I could hear Sally chatting and laughing as she approached the door. She stood in the doorway, obscuring my view of the man behind her.

'Olivia, can I introduce you to Sam Chadwick. Sam, this is Olivia Archer, the owner of the agency.'

As she said his name I thought, That's a coincidence, I used to know a Sam Chadwick.

I guess that small flash of memory helped me to keep it all together as I saw the face of the man who moved from behind Sally and stuck out his hand.

'Hi, Olivia, I'm Sam, how are you?'

By sheer professional habit my hand moved towards his to shake it, but truthfully, I had frozen inside, as I recognised him immediately, even after, what would it be, 15 years. He smiled broadly, waiting for me to return his greeting. I hesitated for only a second as I realised he had not remembered me; because 15 years ago he had known me as Oliver Armstrong and I had looked very different back then.

I managed to to keep my estate agent's smile fixed across my face and said, 'Hi, Sam, it's good to meet you. I hear you might be interested in appointing us.'

'Well yes, Olivia, as I explained to Sally, I have been through a very messy divorce and I need to find myself somewhere to live pretty quickly. I'm getting tired of living out of a hotel room. I have heard good things about your operation so I wanted to meet the head of the business. I have always believed in going to the top. No disrespect, Sally.

'None taken, Sam. I fully understand. I'll leave you two to chat. Olivia, give me a call when you need me.'

I was still shaking inside but I pulled myself together pretty quickly and gestured towards the small table where we could sit and talk.

In those few seconds before we sat down my mind went straight back to the last time I saw Sam Chadwick.

Fifteen years ago...

Sam Chadwick and his band of simple minded thugs were chasing me down the corridor of the school and I knew if they caught me I would be in deep trouble.

It had all started a year before when I moved to the private boarding school following my parent's fervent wish to try to 'cure' me. They reasoned that moving me to a boys boarding school would toughen me up and get me out of what they called, 'this phase you are going through.'

I can't remember exactly when I realised I was gay. It was not so much a sudden revelation, more a gradual awakening that I was different from the other boys; this feeling that I preferred to play with the girls and to do the things they enjoyed. I don't believe there was just one moment when I came to realise I felt more like a girl than the boy everyone thought I should be. I tried to talk to my mum about it but her reaction was to go straight to my father who promptly beat me with his belt and told me no son of his was going to be a 'fairy'.

I reacted in the only way I could, internalising everything, and to the rest of the world tried to be the boy they told me I should be. I managed this trick for a few years but inside I knew it was a charade. I felt increasingly conflicted until one memorable day when I was about 11. My parents had gone for the day to visit a prospective university with my older sister and I was left to roam the house alone.

I found my way to my sister's room, and it was the usual teenage girls room with clothes strewn all over the floor and bed. I stood in the middle of her room and I imagined this was my room and these were my clothes. I was shaking with excitement as I picked up one of her bras from the floor and I almost fainted as I felt the soft material slide through my fingers. It felt so naughty to be touching her clothes and it was a short step from touching to wanting to try the clothes on.

From that day onwards I took every opportunity to visit my sister's room whenever I could and to help myself to her clothes for a dressing session. It helped when she went off to University and I had many more opportunities to indulge my habit with the clothes she had left behind in her room.

Of course, I got caught. My mother came home early one day without me hearing her come into the house, and she walked in on me wearing one of my sister's dresses. There was hell to pay. She immediately called my father and when he got home I expected to get the belt again. However, they decided to take a different approach and bundled me off to an all boys boarding school to 'get some discipline'.

Well, it didn't work out quite as they expected. Far from helping me through 'this phase' I found myself becoming more and more convinced my feelings were not fading but getting stronger. Most of the boys were growing quickly, but I remained obstinately small and slender. I didn't mind, but in a school fixated on sport it became a problem until I discovered my smaller stature was actually beneficial for one sport in particular. I had always been a keen swimmer but wasn't strong enough to the on the team, but would always go along to the training sessions if only to wear my speedos.

I have no idea why, but when the swimming coach asked if anyone was interested in learning to dive I stuck my hand up. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that the coach was young and very good looking. A small group of us would go off to the local swimming pool twice a week to use the diving boards there. We started on the lower boards and then moved up to the higher ones. It turned out I had some talent for it. I had no fear of heights, was flexible and my small frame was an advantage for once in my life.

I was soon learning to do more difficult dives alongside one of the other boys and the school arranged for us to get some coaching from a full time diving coach. This meant a couple of extra evenings at the pool and I really enjoyed these sessions. Of course, it helped that I wore very small speedos, and I loved the way they hugged me. I had a reputation for being a bit of a sissy and after one diving practice a couple of the boys started to threaten me. I thought I was in line for a bad beating until a voice shouted, 'Stop you little wankers.' Jason Donoghue, one of the school's bad boys walked across and pulled the two boys away from me.

'If you two want to pick on somebody, try me, he's not doing you any harm.'

There was absolute silence in the changing rooms. Jason was a big lad and nobody wanted to take him on. I was trembling by this time and he turned to me and said 'If anyone tries it on, let me know.'

From that day on, I was under Jason's protection. For the first time at the school I sat with someone to eat my meals. He made me run errands for him, some of which were to deliver the drugs he dealt in the school. He told me I made him laugh, and we must have a strange sight, big Jason and little effeminate me, but he genuinely seemed to like me. Looking back, maybe he fancied me, but perhaps he was too scared to do anything about it. Or, it might just be he didn't like big guys taking on little ones.

My problems started when Jason was expelled. He was caught with some ecstasy tablets which he and a couple of his friends were trying to sell around the school. This left a power vacuum which was filled by, you guessed it, Sam Chadwick.

Sam was one of those boys who seems to sail through life. A truly privileged child, he was ferried to school in his father's Aston Martin, and had the latest and best of everything. He was the captain of the football team and was the de facto leader of the school. He had an easy charm, and even at that age was very good looking and I spent many a class dreaming about him.

He, on the other hand, decided for some reason to hate me. Every time our paths crossed, his eyes would blaze when he spotted me and his lip would curl as he called me fairy, or girly boy or queer. My reputation had gone before me and now without Jason's protection I was fair game as Sam saw it.

It began with name calling which I could just about put up with. However, it meant I had fewer and fewer friends around the school and became increasingly lonely and isolated. Boys who had previously enjoyed my extra-curricular activities began to shun me. The name calling escalated and became more threatening, notes were left in my desk and locker calling me the foulest names. One day my locker was broken into and faeces wiped all over the inside. It escalated to minor violence and Sam's crew would come and find me and push me around, rip my blazer or stick me upside down in a rubbish bin.

Sam would not get involved in this, of course. He kept his distance, but it was clear he was controlling this. I tried to fight back, but I was still very small and although the diving had strengthened me, I was no match for the bigger boys. I ended up with cut lips and black eyes, and had to tell the teachers I had fallen over and hurt myself. I would hide on my own as much as possible and eventually there was no boy who would even dare talk to me for fear of reprisals from Sam and his crew. My schoolwork started to suffer and I started to feel deeply depressed. I felt alone, and that there was no hope of help from anybody.

The only teacher who took any notice was the swimming coach and one day he pulled me aside and asked me what was going on. I shook my head and said it was nothing. He kept on at me and I finally broke down in tears and told him what had happened. He was furious and said it was totally unacceptable and he was going to my House Master about it. I begged him not to as I suspected it would only bring me more trouble but he insisted.

The school obviously should have done something about it, but there was one big problem. Chadwick's father was extremely wealthy and had recently contributed heavily to the new science block which would carry his name. The swimming coach had gone straight to my House Master who, being a man with the spine of a jellyfish, escalated it to the Headmaster. He, in his turn, fearing that his new benefactor might be at risk if his son was punished for bullying, did the manly thing, called my parents and insisted I be withdrawn from the school for persistent bad behaviour.

Of course, this couldn't happen for a few days and in the meantime, Sam and his gang had discovered what had happened and were determined to exact revenge on me. I managed to evade them for a couple of days, but they had somehow tracked me down and were now chasing me along one of the corridors.

I ran as fast as i could, but they were gaining on me quickly. I turned a corner and ducked into one of the empty classrooms. I heard them thunder past the door but it wouldn't be very long before they caught on and would double back. I cracked open the door and looked outside straight into the grinning face of Sam Chadwick.

'Gotcha, you little prick.' He grabbed me and forced me down to the ground, straddled me across my chest and drew back his fist.

'I'm gonna teach you what happens when you cross a Chadwick.'

I closed my eyes and waited for the blows to fall. A few seconds passed and still nothing had happened. I could hear Chadwick breathing hard and I wondered why he was waiting. I risked opening my eyes, and he still had his fist raised ready to strike, but he had this funny look on his face and had gone very red. He looked angry but also somehow confused. He drew back his fist again but then let it drop.

'Fuck it, you're not worth it, Armitage. Get up and get out of my sight.'

He stood up and let me shakily get to my feet.

'Get going, you little faggot, get your little fairy body out of my sight.'

He had this look on his face, but I didn't waste time wondering what it was. I just ran before he changed his mind.

One year ago...

'So, Sam,' I began, 'how can we help you?'

He had grown taller in the years since I last saw him, but he was still as good looking as he had been back then; if anything, the years had added to his looks. His hair was immaculate, his complexion flawless and his eyes twinkled as he looked back at me over the table.

'Before we start, Olivia, haven't we met before? You seem a little familiar.'

'No, Sam, I don't think so, I am sure I would have remembered you if we had.'

I held my breath and he moved on.

'As I said I have come through a nasty divorce and I need to find a new place to live. I have been living in a hotel at my lawyer's insistence to minimise the settlement but that's all over now so I want to move on. I have heard good things about you and your agency so I dropped in to meet you and see whether what I was told was right.'

'And were the things you heard right, Sam?'

'Well, I think so, Sally seems very switched on and all seems to be in order. Tell me one thing, will you be involved in the search if we go ahead?'

I smiled broadly, 'Oh yes, Sam. Sally is very, very competent but I will make sure I am closely in touch with your dealings with us.'

It was what I told every client and normally would be the last they saw of me, but I suspected I would want to keep very close to this one.

'Ok, Olivia, I think that's the clincher for me. Let's shake and crack on.'

He rose from his chair and offered me his hand. I stood and shook his hand. I felt he kept hold of my hand a little longer than necessary, but so what.

'That's great news. Sam. I am so happy that we will be working together.'

I could see in his eyes that he couldn't shake off the idea we had met before, but I was confident now he wouldn't make the connection.

'Sam, let me take you back to Sally and she can kick off the search. I'll check in with her later and I promise I will stay fully involved.'

'Olivia, thanks, I would appreciate that.'

I walked him through to Sally and after a few moments I excused myself and headed back to my office. I sat down my head spinning with what had just happened. What was I going to do? Sam's arrival had awakened some very bad memories for me and I needed to think clearly about things. I rang Hugo, my PA, and asked him to come through.

'What's up babe?' he said as he walked in, 'You look like you've seen a ghost.'

'You're closer than you know, Hugo. Fancy a drink?'

He raised his eyebrows as I had outlawed drinking at lunchtime in the company.

'I need to tell you something for which I will need a drink. Or maybe more than one.'

'Sweetie, sounds fascinating. I'm all ears.'

Over the next two hours and a couple of bottles of white Burgundy I told Hugo all about our new client and our back story with each other. Hugo, as well as being my PA, was also my closest friend and knew pretty much everything about me, but to this point I had never shared the story of my school days with him or anyone else. Hugo and I had met when I was with Charlie. Thinking about Charlie always made me smile as that was one of the happiest periods in my life. It was also how Oliver Armitage managed to become Olivia Archer, owner of Archer Estates.

Ten years earlier...

Following my withdrawal from school I went through a very bad time. My parents were furious with me and if my father had his way he would have thrown me out. My mother intervened and at least I was allowed to live at home. My father did not want anything to do with me, and so it was left to my mother to deal with me. A succession of different schools, psychiatrists and psychologists filled the next few years. Nothing worked for long and I ached to be free and on my own.

I finally turned 18 and left home. My father was glad to see me go but I think my mother was sad when I walked out of their lives. It's my one regret that I didn't stay closer to her and now it's too late.

I drifted my way through dead-end jobs and drugs for a while. I had started to dress as a woman by this time and when someone suggested doing some escort work to earn some quick money I thought I would do it for a while. It was pretty sordid, and I got beaten up badly a couple of times. I hit rock bottom when I was arrested for soliciting a policeman one night and got rewarded with a suspended sentence.