Ellen pulled out the plug, stepped out and readied herself for bed. She brushed her teeth with whitening toothpaste, applied soothing Aloe gel to her waxed skin, firming cream on her tummy and a rich night cream on her face. Relaxed, she slid between the covers and fell into a deep sleep. She awoke next morning feeling refreshed and perfectly at ease. She completed her domestic chores in good time and caught up on some phone calls and paperwork. Flowers arrived, from Rowan and Roy, wishing her luck and assuring her that she would not need it. She proudly arranged them in a vase on the table. It was time to get ready. Her nerves and indecision did not make a reappearance as she packed her case, carefully folding the new clothes she had bought and making sure that all of the creams and ointments, tools and accoutrements she’d need were squeezed in. Finally, she was ready to leave and as she opened the front door, she looked at a picture of Ken on the side table. She kissed a fingertip. .."Celia looked at our change in expression and swung round. At the end of the corridor at the entrance to her study stood Miss Hardcastle. With a sour look and a too-short, severe haircut that gave us the creeps, she crooked her finger at Celia beckoning her to come hither. Celia turned to us briefly with a look of horror on her face before tramping to her punishment. Miss Hardcastle looked completely through me as if I didn't exist; for although I was touted to be the brightest sixth former, half a decade intellectually in front of my peers, I still wasn't growing by much nor suffering from a surfeit of estrogen turning my teenage mind to mush, though. I only wished the taps that controlled the estrogen were turned more fully up!I mean, I still had what us girls would call 'a pash' but I couldn't find any for the local boys with their honking adenoidal noises, nor for the strange two dimensional pop stars that appeared on our black and white television screens. Well, ours.
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