Chapter 3: Arrival By Train in Stepford Darcey took 5 minutes to pack his case, a taxi made things quicker, he was at the station by 12 o'clock and on the train as soon as they let him on, at 12.10. He walked past empty compartments and settled himself in another empty compartment where he felt he could be on his own to live with his thoughts. And what rich thoughts they were flooding into his head. He would be wearing panties and a bra every day, and at work they would let him wear a blouse and skirt. He was just picturing how lovely he would look in the mirror when the doors slid apart and an elegant woman came in in a pink blouse and pink skirt: just the sort of costume he would die to have in his closet. She sat well away from him, but he felt safe adoring the movement of her satin sleeves and the way her satin skirt was filled with her ample rounded thighs. Another woman, also in blouse and skirt but this time in blue, joined them. Her perfume added to the sweetness of the first woman. Darcey felt a bit outnumbered by two to one. Then came a woman with a big blond up-do, wearing a tight two piece costume in cream satin. She looked as if life wasn't quite to her liking and she would have to issue orders until it was put to rights. Right behind her came more women, beautifully dressed. Everyone was pushing up and moving round the bench seats, until Darcey was hemmed in on either side by the women in satin blouses. The compartment suddenly resembled the cosmetics counters at Bloomingdales, which was no problem at all to him. He kept his eyes to himself for the time being, but he was quietly thinking he would take every opportunity during this journey to study all the facial make-up around him, as well as to watch these women wearing their gorgeous outfits. The train moved off. He found his legs couldn't move for fear of touching one of the women next to him. He was already feeling female elbows kissing his arms deliciously. What if the woman in the blue blouse next to him started a conversation? What if she said: "Would you like to stare at my blouse? Hasn't it got adorable sleeves, and with such lovely frilled cuffs over my hands? Look at the way my blouse buttons swell and fall over my breasts each time I take a breath. Would you like to lean closer, with your nose resting on my satin collar, and breathe in my Givenchy perfume?" "Are you a transvestite?" Darcey jumped. She had spoken to him. He had to say something, otherwise he was being rude. "Er - Er wh-what do you mean?" "It's a simple question?" She was looking him straight in the face and not repeating herself. "Er - Y-Yes ma'am." His voice was as quiet as could be and he shot a look round the compartment to see what everyone was doing. They weren't doing anything. They hadn't heard. "Do you wear women's smalls?" Oh my God! What was she saying! This time he looked round the women first but they were ignoring him. "Er - yes. Well, sometimes." He ventured to look up at her and her eyebrows were arched in superiority. Her lips were magnificent in their blood red lipstick. "Are you wearing a pair of panties now, on the train?" He daren't look round this time: he was sure every woman in the compartment would be looking at him. He didn't have to confess but he felt they were having an honest conversation. His voice was a whisper. "Yes." "Pardon?" He had to speak up. "Yes I am." "Tell me about your panties. What are they like?" Darcey knew only too well: he had picked them with love and desire half an hour earlier. "Mauve silk crepe, ma'am, with deep lace trimming in white on either leg." He suddenly felt like she might be more than she looked. She could be an agent for Stepford, checking up on him as he made his way there. She threw another question at him. "What do you wear at night?" He simply had to reply. "Pyjamas." She turned a sideways look at him. "L-Ladies' pyjamas, in pink satin." By now every woman around would be glaring at him, but he daren't look. "Do you play with women's things?" He had to think. What did she mean? She asked him again. "Do you spread women's clothing across your knee and play with it?" This was hugely personal - but at the heart of Darcey's daily life. He was ashamed to reply. He hung his head. Everyone was looking and waiting, or so he thought. "Where are you staying in Stepford?" Darcey was relieved. It was another voice. It was the woman beside him in the pink blouse. He turned to her. "I - I d-don't know - yet." "Who are you going to live with?" He didn't know. - Did you have to live with someone when you were in Stepford? "What will you be doing?" She was being very nice to him, seeing how he wasn't answering her questions. Her pink satin blouse was deliriously gorgeous but he tried to think straight. "Er, I'm not sure. I think I'll be working in the garments industry." She met this with a look of interest as if she approved. There was definitely a smile not far beneath her lovely lips. A squeak of brakes brought him back to the train. They were slowing down. In fact they had almost stopped, then the compartment lurched to one side and stopped, with the woman in the blue blouse bumping into him with her blouse and her skirt. Darcey felt that silence you get when a train comes to a standstill. "We're here," came another voice, rather sharp and final. It was the woman in the fine cream suit, standing up and looking down at him. "This is Stepford." It was as if the magistrate in the courtroom had just handed down his sentence, or her sentence, and he was about to be taken down from the dock and led to his cell. Everyone was getting their things together, touching up their make-up, sitting on the edges of their seats. The woman in the suit was the only one standing. "Here," she said, "take my valise for me." The women sat where they were, as if letting Darcey and this woman walk out first, so that was what they did. The atmosphere of cosmetics changed to diesel fumes and fresh air as Darcey arranged himself with his case on wheels to one side of him, and the woman's valise on the other with her standing beside him. What must she think of him after his shocking revelations in the compartment? Why on earth didn't he just lie the whole time! They said nothing as they walked side by side. There were women everywhere, click-clacking in stilettoes and sweeping about in wide-skirted frocks. Some of them wore pencil skirts and matching jackets and an awful lot of them wore white gloves. Darcey had never seen so many women in one place before, and not a single man to be seen. In fact he suddenly realised they were looking at him, nearly all of them, and smiling. It must have been because he was the only man around on the platform. He was coming to the concourse, through the gate, and the woman stopped. So Darcey stopped too. He had her valise and he looked at her. Her eyes were looking past him, which made him turn, and he found they were not alone. Two hostess type women weren't there a moment earlier but they stood in front of them now, looking at Darcey. Unlike other women, there were no smiles on their faces. They wore tailored navy blue costumes with bold white collars and neat caps in their hair, with white gloves on their hands. "Darcey?" asked one of them. They breathed authority. "Y-Yes." The women stepped right up to him, perfumed like every other woman, relieved him of his luggage and held his hands. "Welcome to Stepford, Darcey," said one of them as if she meant it, even though she had a no-nonsense voice and a granite hand clutching his. Their faces were impeccably made up. "Come with us. We will pass you to Admissions. You are due for your Admissions Interview in twenty minutes time." Darcey was the centre of attention in his light grey suit from the women on all sides. Their outfits and their dresses were as if taken from fashion photo albums but he was slipping smartly past them across the station concourse - the station of Stepford. It was only later that he realised he no longer had his case with him. NEXT: Chapter 4: The Admissions Interview ***