Chapter 10: Facing The Music

"I'll have to see her tomorrow," said Fluffy. "And face the music. She'll murder me, for sure." Surely her mother would be sympathetic, once she got used to the idea of her dear daughter's bust growing such a vast amount in three days. Just giving her time to get used to it was going to be the hard part. That, and trying to explain where all these giant new bras and sexy clothes had come from.

"I'll come with you and give you moral support, if you like," Danielle offered, not wanting to miss her friend's big scene. "What are you doing with that video machine?" she asked exasperatedly.

"I recorded the last hour of the cricket."

"You what? How can you watch cricket when your tits are growing half a dozen sizes a day?"

"What's that got to do with anything? Shhh, it's on..."

'No respite for England's cricketers today, as they could only watch their opponents carry their first innings score into four figures for the loss of just one wicket, to a freak and controversial run out when the ball struck a pigeon and deflected on to the stumps. The declaration came an hour after tea with the score on one thousand, one hundred and eleven. England now have two days to avoid total humiliation, but the signs are not promising. At the close tonight, requiring the small matter of eight hundred and thirty-eight runs to avoid the follow-on, they had taken their second innings score to nine but had lost three early wickets... '

"Oh, God, no!" Fluffy wailed. "We are total pants!"

"Talking of pants, you weren't thinking of sleeping with my dad again tonight, were you?"

"You're such a little pervert, Danielle."

"I'm not a pervert. My nipples haven't suddenly doubled in size at the thought of being screwed by a dirty old man of thirty-five. And don't try hiding them by folding your arms. That trick won't work any more, your arms aren't long enough!"

Fluffy hunched her shoulders and glanced down at her nipples. Her friend was right. "I can't help it if ... what's that?"

"Someone at the front door. Dad'll get it."

They heard the door open and distant voices, coming closer.

" ... not seen you for ages, Kathy, and we're only round the corner..."

" ... sorry to trouble you, Ray, but a parcel came for my Fluffy and I thought I'd better bring it round in case it was something she needed..."

"It's my mum!" Fluffy hissed, frantically trying to fasten another button on her shirt. It didn't work. She seized a cushion and held it across her chest. It was too small.

"She's in here with Danielle, watching TV..."

"I wouldn't have bothered you, only a young man on a motorbike delivered it, so it must be urgent, whatever it is..." Mrs Duffy was obviously consumed by curiosity.

The living-room door opened and Mrs Duffy was ushered into the room by Mr Devonshire, wearing a T-shirt and a pair of probably the most obscene shorts ever worn by a grown man.

"Mum!" Fluffy cried, still hiding behind her inadequate cushion.

"Hello, dear. This came for you this afternoon. A man on a motorbike brought it, so it must be urgent..."

"Thanks." Fluffy accepted the parcel and placed it on the couch between her and Danielle.

"Aren't you going to open it, then?"

"Later, mum, we're watching the cricket."

"I'll open it for you," said Danielle, grabbing the parcel before Fluffy could snatch it away. She began fumbling with the wrapping, until Mr Devonshire obligingly supplied a knife.

"Careful with it, Dan!" Fluffy objected, making another attempt at capturing the package.

Danielle avoided her hand and ripped open the brown paper. "It's a bra!" she announced, and withdrew the undergarment with a flourish.

"God!" said Mr Devonshire. Fluffy tore her eyes away. From her position down here on the couch she could see the last two inches of his cock hanging out of his shorts.

"That bra can't be yours, Fluffy!" Mrs Duffy said with a frown. She stared hard at her daughter, with the kind of look that could burn its way through cushions.

"Maybe some kind of mistake..."

"No, it's yours, Fluff," said Danielle. "Look, there's a note inside, addressed to you. It's from Miss Twizzell herself. 'Dear Florence. Just in case that latest bra isn't big enough to last until you can come into the shop again, here's one in a bigger size. You won't need to pay if you don't wear it, but if you do, send your mother or Mr Devonshire in to pay for it... ' Ooops!"

Mrs Duffy was staring at Mr Devonshire enquiringly.

"Isn't that s ... someone at the f ... front door?" he stammered. "Or maybe I didn't close it properly. I'd better go and make sure. You can't be too careful these days, can you... ?"

"How strange!" Mrs Duffy turned back to her daughter. "What are you hiding behind that cushion, Fluffy?"

"Nothing!"

"It seems to be taking up an awful lot of room for nothing, dear!"

"I'm not hiding anything. I'm just cold, that's all." She hurriedly dashed a bead of sweat from her brow.

"Those are nice trousers, Fluffy," said her mother.

"Oh, these? They're Danielle's!"

Danielle coughed and spluttered into her hankie.

"Danielle's? Danielle has twenty-nine-inch hips. I know they're tight, but they're not that tight! Where did you get them?"

"They were in a sale, cheap. In Brocklehurst..."

"They're not really big enough. They make your bum look huge. In fact, it is huge! Let me see." Mrs Duffy advanced quickly and making a determined grab at Fluffy's cushion, she whipped it away. "Oh, wow, Fluff! What's been happening to you?"

Fluffy's hands weren't big enough to hide more than half of her cleavage. She fluttered them up and down until her mother tossed the cushion away and held her wrists.

Silence fell, during which Fluffy could see Mr Devonshire lurking outside the living-room door. He shook his head vehemently and wagged a warning finger at her before disappearing backwards.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How big is that new bra?"

Danielle obligingly handed it over, while Fluffy rolled her eyes to the ceiling for help from Above.

"What's this mean?" Mrs Duffy pointed at the label.

"It's a bar-code," said Fluffy. "I can't read bar-codes. I'm not a computer..."

"Not the bar-code!" her mother snapped. "What's this here, where it says 'SIZE'?"

"It's the size," Fluffy mumbled.

"38J? I don't know much about bra sizes, Fluffy, but even I can see you're bigger than a J cup!"

"It's a J2," said Danielle helpfully, her eyes going crossed as she concentrated on the higher mathematics. "That means she's a J cup on the second time round..."

"The second time round what?"

"Round the alphabet. It means she's..."

"Seventy-six inches!" said Fluffy, tiring of the guessing games. "It's Miss Twizzell's idea of a joke, sending me a huge bra like this! It's miles too big for me."

"Stand up, Fluffy!"

"Oh, mum!"

"Stand up! And don't slouch like that, stand up straight. That's better. Pull your shoulders back. Oh, my God!"

"That shirt wasn't really big enough for her anyway, Mrs Duffy."

"It's certainly not going to fit her now. Not with no buttons. You'd better come home. You've got some explaining to do. So has ... Danielle, tell your dad I'm sorry but I've had to take Fluffy home, there's a good girl."

"But I've got to fetch my things from the bedroom..."

"None of your things will fit you any more," Mrs Duffy pointed out. "Come on! You can see Danielle in the morning. Danielle, would you say thank you to your dad for having her?"

"Having her?"

"What did she mean by that?" Mrs Duffy asked as soon as they had gone indoors and shut the front door.

Fluffy stalled, playing for time while praying for a merciful thunderbolt. "Mean by what, Mummy?"

"Was Danielle at home all the time you were at the Devonshires' house?"

Already scarlet, Fluffy slowly turned crimson. "Danielle? Home?"

Mrs Duffy waited, saying nothing.

"Not all the time, no."

Somehow the tension in the atmosphere seemed to ease. "I'm glad you told the truth, sweetheart. In fact, Mrs Devonshire told me she was going to be away for a few days. We had quite a little heart-to-heart about it before she went. Apparently, her hubby is no angel. You can tell by those obscene shorts he wears. They're not very nice in mixed company."

Fluffy swallowed.

"Well? What's the story? You were there for two nights, knowing your friend wasn't at home."

Fluffy crossed her fingers behind her back. "She was at home last night. And I didn't know she wasn't going to be at home before I went!"

"But you didn't come home! God, child, it's only round the corner. Practically next door! Out with it! Don't try and cover up for him. What did he do to you?"

That was one hell of a question. How long have you got, mother?

Mrs Duffy changed tack. "How old did he think you are?"

"He knows. I told him. That is, I didn't really tell him; Discoveries did. It was on their computer..."

"What was he doing at Discoveries with you?"

"Buying me a new bra, of course. I told him to get me one!"

"You told him to ... he paid for this?"

"He took me to some place miles away from Brocklehurst. There was a kind of shopping village there..."

"Beanchester Retail Village? That's miles away!"

"That's right, I told you it was. There was a Discoveries bra shop there, with a bloke in charge, called Gerard."

"A man, selling custom-made bras?"

"He's different, mum. I've met a few different people in the last couple of days." She decided that this neither the time nor the place to tell the whole story. She cut to the chase. "Anyway, Ray ... Mr Devonshire bought me this new bra ... well, not this one I'm wearing now, this was two bras ago ... and a new bikini as well, 'cos Danielle's didn't fit me properly..."

"You'd been parading around in front of Mr Devonshire in a bikini?"

"I s'pose so," Fluffy admitted forlornly. 'Parading' seemed to sum it up pretty well. "And some shirts, and these stretchy pants, and dozens of knickers and a sweater and a silky blouse, ooh, and a blanket and some towels..."

"A blanket?"

"I fell in the fountain and got wet. And this nice lady in the shop came out and wrapped a blanket round me and took me inside, and she was different, too, like Gerard only different different, if you know what I mean." Fluffy decided not to mention the nice photographer who had given her his business card.

"You've been a busy girl, Fluffy! What else? What about ... at bedtime? Did he... ?"

"No! That is, Mr Devonshire didn't do anything to me." Her mother's eyes narrowed. Fluffy took a deep breath and noticed her mother's gaze flicker down to her yawning cleavage. "I did it to him!"

Mrs Duffy sat down. "I don't understand. How ... why ... did he get you drunk?"

Fluffy thought about that one, too. "Not exactly. He gave me a can of beer but I tipped it all over my chest. It tasted horrible, but it was quite nice, so I had another. Or maybe two. Does drunk mean when you can hit yourself on the head and you can't feel it?" She slapped her forehead.

"You're not drunk now, are you?"

"No, I can feel it now. But I tried cider and it tasted better but it wasn't so nice as beer. I haven't tried wine or whisky yet..."

"So you got yourself drunk, and then he lured you into bed?"

"It wasn't easy! He wanted to sleep downstairs."

Mrs Duffy had buried her face in her hands during this recitation. She made a decision.

"We'd better take you to the doctor first thing in the morning."

"What for? There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Maybe not, but you have outgrown half a dozen bras in less than a week, and you seem to have started a new career as a teenage prostitute..."

"Mum!" Tears sprang from the girl's eyes. "You can't ... not to the doctor..."

Mrs Duffy stared at her daughter for a moment longer, then held out her arms. "Oh, come here! It's all right. We're only seeing the doctor for a routine check-up, and maybe to do something about ... if we're not too late ... stopping you getting pregnant. It's obvious the changes in your body have affected your judgement."

Fluffy felt her mother's arms around her, a warm, comforting feeling. "What about my ... my... ?"

"These things? What about them?"

"You're not going to make me have an operation? To chop them off?"

"Chop them off? After what I went through? Over my dead body! They are absolutely incredible! If they'd let me keep mine, just think, I'd have been as big as you when I was at school. You don't want to know what I'd have been up to behind the bike sheds!" She nuzzled her daughter's hair, rocking her like a baby. "Now, how much sleep have you had these last few nights?"