) was talking to Mrs. Conn. Mrs. Conn was 779 R2 on the gossip channel. It was pure happenstance that Mrs. Conn lived, with her War Hero husband, in t...e house on McConnell that backed the funeral home parking lot. Her kitchen window overlooked the cul-de-sac where Oswald's Funeral Home drive made the loop from 'in' to 'out'.In the middle of both conversations, Grace's lungs finally caught up with her breath."Daddy, David didn't do it!" she shouted. She was loud enough for both parties of the. I’m 5’ 5” and I had to look up at my new neighbour. She was about 6’ and slender, short black hair, cut like a cap around an elfin face with dark eyes. About my sort of age, I guessed. I did the usual survey and noted a denim jacket over a button down shirt and, lower, blue trousers tucked into black leather, knee length boots with low heels. A large hint of the butch but softened, if you get my drift? Her eyes were, gratifyingly, looking at me and not the barmaid. She may have been looking at. Thick, gravely. The voice of a predator. He reached down, grabbing me by my throat. I could smell his breath as he leaned in close. "You do exactly as I say and I will let you go. Understand?" I nodded as best I could, trying to remain calm when the belt slashed down again, surprising me. My scream was choked off as his hand tightened around my throat. There was another person then, in the room with us. Two attackers. Two predators. The one who had me by the throat stood up, dragging me to a. I went home that night with stockings, suspenders, bra, knickers and shoes belonging to the girl whose house we were in at the time. I couldn’t have her blouse, skirt or blazer because she would need them and didn’t have a spare and so another girl promised to bring her spare clothes the next day together with a long haired wig for me to wear.I went to the girls’ school early next morning dressed as a boy but with the female undies on. I was smuggled into the Form Common Room to get dressed in.