Polinka Goes on Holiday
Copyright© 2026 by Clee Hill
Chapter 2
“That’s the one!” Polinka said the next morning as they stood in front of the window of Sowden’s, Ludlow’s best, she thought, when it came to swimwear. And underwear. She had bought a couple of nice bra and panty sets from there in the past, the kind that made her feel grown up. They weren’t ‘sexy’ or anything like that, just pretty and not something you wear every day. Her absolute favourite was a floral set in soft blues and lavenders, and yes, it had little frills to it too. For Polinka, most underwear was just a bit boring, but if it had frills or ruffles or ruches, she was all in favour.
The bikini that had caught her eye, and was currently being modelled by one of those ridiculous headless and limbless manikins, was pink, with a multicoloured floral pattern that wasn’t too busy, seemed to come with a matching scarf which was already making her think ‘halter’, but best of all it had ruffles, both to the panties and also the bandeau bra. She had been trying to think of a way of asking her father if she could get it ever since she had seen it, and here she was and it was his idea too.
“I see. Very...”
“Me?” Polinka hopefully suggested.
“Tight?”
“It’s a bandeau, Dad.”
“I know that, Biscuit, but you’re sure that it won’t be uncomfortable? You don’t have anything like it.”
“I know, but I’ve got two weeks to try it out,” she grinned, excitedly grabbing his hand, clearly ready to get inside already. “And the whole summer in the back garden if I like it.”
“And very pretty I am sure you will look,” Stephen said as they inescapably headed inside.
Sowden’s was the kind of old fashioned shop that made you ask ‘how have they survived’ followed by the happiness that they had. Inside there was a central counter behind which someone sat, manning the till and generally keeping an eye on things, seeing if their help were needed. To one side were bras, panties, and all other kinds of lingerie, including the kinds of slips for skirts Polinka simply refused to believe anyone wore anymore, so who they were selling them to was a complete mystery to her. Across the back of the shop and to either side of the entrance to the small changing room area was the sleepwear, lots of pyjamas, some more ‘sexy’ things, and even a few full on, is this the Victorian era, nightshirts. She had never seen the matching cap, but Polinka was sure they were available if you asked. Finally, to the right hand side, more in the summer, less but never none in the winter, was the bikini and swimsuit section where you could get everything from baby’s first swimsuit through to some bikini sets that, in Ludlow, were utterly scandalous, very skimpy, and guaranteed to give her father a heart attack if he saw her even looking at them. In truth, they weren’t her style but she did wonder how it would feel to be brave enough to wear them.
“Good morning. Can I help?” the woman on the stool behind the counter asked. She was old, like, in her twenties or even her thirties, Polinka thought, but looked nice for it. She was a brunette, with her hair in a simple pony tail, a little bit of lipstick, some eyeliner, but that was all, meaning Polinka approved. Stephen had allowed her to start using some makeup when she turned 14, not for school, of course, and she had had more since then, but she didn’t really like it, always feeling like she was wearing a mask, so seeing someone wearing not a lot always made her feel closer to them. As the woman sat up straighter and put her book aside, Polinka could see she was wearing a simple black blouse, open quite a lot, but with a very conservative and lacy bra peeking through, looking so large Polinka wondered if you could just wear that to a nightclub. Probably, though maybe not the clubs in Ludlow in the summer, and in the winter, too cold.
“You have a pink bandeau set in the window,” Stephen said. “And my daughter’s eye.”
The woman smiled. “Very nice taste. Most young woman your age want something a little more ... well, perhaps I should just say a little less.”
Polinka shook her head. “Nope. Not me. I love to get my tummy out but, haha, nothing more,” she said, glancing over to her father, his face a picture of relief and understanding, not in the least surprised by her hutzpah.
“Well then. Do you know your measurements?”
“Sort of. Dad thinks I’m done growing, but I did have a last try over Easter,” Polinka said, eternally grateful she took after her father’s side of the family, even if that meant not being too tall or too chesty, which she didn’t mind really. She had been ‘tomboyish’ most of her life, by looks and by nature, and she rather liked it, though she also liked her frilly things too.
“Perhaps you would like to be measured, to make sure everything is the right size?”
“Sure. Er, Dad...?”
“I’m sure I can find something not to look at,” he joked as the two women slipped quietly into the changing rooms only to return just a minute or so later.
“Would you like me to write that down?” the woman asked, now revealed as Sandra, having joked that Polinka should always get the name of someone who got so close to her tiddies.
Polinka shook her head. “It’s okay, it’s easy to remember, 32/26/32. It kind of rhymes, or mirrors,” she smiled. “And a B cup most of the time?”
“Mostly, yes, though some Cs can be small and As can be larger, and of course during your period—”
“—They can get a bit wobblier,” Polinka grinned, glancing over to her father who seemed, thankfully, not to have heard.
“An interesting choice of words. Now, I believe there is a bikini you wish to try on?”
“Yes please?!”
“Let me just get your sizes. And keep your underwear on please?”
“Of course,” Polinka agreed, taking the bikini with her as she headed off to change into it, her clothes on the peg as she carefully put the bikini on, hiding the tags inside to get a proper idea of how she looked.
And she looked awesome, she thought, as she smiled at herself in the mirror, feeling slightly silly with her bra and panties on underneath, but other than that she thought it looked perfect and fit perfect and made her look perfect. It was just ... perfect. Quickly changing back into her denim shorts and back into her cropped white tee-shirt and crochet cardigan vest thingie which was done to look like an old doily but nice - and also cropped - she was out and grinning as she saw the Sandra chatting to her Dad. “It’s perfect!”
“I didn’t doubt it,” Stephen smiled.
“And there is a scarf that comes with it, to wear as a wrap if you want a cover up option,” Sandra said.
“Can I tie that as a halter?”
“Of course, but the matching bra...”
“I know, but, you know, variety. I can’t flit around frilly all the time,” Polinka grinned.
“Oh I think you could,” Sandra said. “Now. Will there be anything else?”
“Perhaps another?” Stephen suggested. “We will be away for a couple of weeks—”
“—So we’re definitely going away?” Polinka leant in, desperate for the solution to her father’s evasiveness.
“—And it is the summer holiday, as you said,” Stephen continued, smiling, not giving her even a crumb. “And perhaps something lightweight to sleep in, too?”
“You were thinking of making a halter of the scarf?” Sandra asked, Polinka nodding she was. “So would you be interested in a bikini set with a halter bra, brightly coloured, fringed—”
“—Fringed? You’ve got ... fringed?” Polinka asked.
“Just in this week. Give me a moment,” she said as she knelt down, standing back up again with an unopened package in the kinds of very bright colours and patterns that spoke of Native American influences, both North and South.
“Can I—”
“—Of course,” Sandra said, checking the size and handing it to Polinka who almost fled to the changing rooms, ignoring Stephen’s chuckles.
The curtain was still swinging closed as Polinka was down to her undies again, carefully opening the sealed package and taking out the bikini. First on went the top, knotting behind her head and looking amazing. It was maybe a little long for her, but that just made it more of a sleeveless tee-shirt or a vest than a bra. As for the panties, they were something she would need to ask her father about. They weren’t ‘solid’, but instead had a generous and conservative gusset, but the sides around her hips were just straps. There were three of them and they were more than thick enough but still, she looked at herself in the mirror and sighed, knowing she would need to ask. Quickly dressing again, she was back out once more.
“Dad? This okay?” she asked, putting the bra down and holding up the panties for him to see.
Stephen smiled. “Worried they show too much?”
“No. They don’t. It’s just, you know, you can see my hips a bit.”
“Ah. Hips. The downfall of many a Victorian gentleman, I hear.”
“Dad!” she giggled, reading which way this was going.
“If you want to scandalise the people, whoever they may be, wherever they may be, by the slightest glimpse of your hips, then I think I can live with that.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Polinka grinned, hugging him, wanting him to kiss him but knowing this wasn’t the place to. One saved for later.
Stephen smiled. “And something for night time? Something cool for the summer?”
“I ... oh. Okay,” Polinka said as she headed for the nighttime section. She had nearly said ‘but I sleep nude’ which she knew he knew, but which she knew he wouldn’t be happy to have her telling everyone, even the woman from Sowden’s, and Sandra had just been measuring her tiddies. She took one look at the pyjamas and smiled at herself as she shook her head. She loved wearing pyjamas in the winter, especially when it was cold enough to wear brushed cotton ones as she snuggled up to her father on the sofa whilst they watched the television, but there was no way she wanted to wear them in the summer, especially as they were forecasting it would be hot.
However.
As she flicked through the little hangers she saw a cami set, cerise blue, very light, very satiny, and very much like something she would like to wear, if she had to wear anything. With her father mysteriously telling her she should look for two sets, and not wanting to just get the same again in another colour, Polinka was clicking her way through the coat hangers and the wrapped packages when she saw something, cocked her eyebrow, lifted it out, looked at it, and grinned. Looking at the photo on the front she knew it was a little bit ‘grown up’, but so was she, wasn’t she? Carefully hiding it behind the cerise set, she almost skipped back to the counter. “Hey, Dad.”
“Biscuit? Did you find something?”
“Yes! And also, maybe.”
“Ah. And the hesitation?”
Polinka tried her best to look confident as she held up the two sets and moved the cerise one aside to reveal the other, a cami set, but also a cropped cami set. In chocolate. With ribbons. “So, haha, would it be warm enough or cold enough that I could wear this one? Please?” she asked, loving how extra it looked, not too much, but more than just the bit of embroidery the cerise set had, in the same colour, over the heart, making a kind of complicated diamond pattern.
Stephen chuckled. “Now how am I to answer that?”
“You could tell me where we’re going?” Polinka said as she turned to Sandra. “We’re going on holiday. On Monday. And he won’t tell me where.”
“It’s a surprise,” Stephen smiled. “As is that set. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind—”
“—It’s okay, I’ll put it back,” Polinka said, not really hiding her sigh as much as she wanted.
“Or you could take it with you,” Stephen said.
“Really?!” she asked, not quite sure she could, not quite believing she could.
“Really. We should come back, another time. Now that you’re growing up, you should wear things which reflect that.”
“I love you,” Polinka said, just about putting her things on the counter in time as she hugged her father once again, another kiss added to the ‘later’ tally, their hug lingering a little.
“I know, Biscuit, I know,” Stephen said, both of them knowing what he meant. He shouldn’t have had to be doing this. Buying lingerie and swimwear was something she should have been doing with her mother, her mother bringing her here, teaching her about being a woman, except Polinka had had taken that away from her, something neither Polinka nor her father had never or would never forgive her for. She’d been gone, divorced, for just over five years now, and still they were finding new ways in which her betrayal was hurting them, tripping them up, and reminding them of someone they both just wanted to forget. Stephen had not gone quite so far as to have family photographs Photoshopped to remove Sally from them, but Polinka had realised and aided in him taking a lot more photographs of just the two of them in the years since. He had even organised professional portraits for them, one when she started Secondary School and looking very clean and shiny in her new uniform, another on the last day of term as she prepared for her GCSE exams to begin, and another, with his parents, as a family shot. They were hung up in the living room, reminders not of who wasn’t there but who they were; a father and his daughter, utterly devoted to one another.
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