Read Online A Vision of Loveliness by Louise Levene - Free Book Online

it. No one bought it in the end. Can’t say I’m surprised. It’s a horrible colour and the zip’s broken. I had a quick look. I knew you wouldn’t mind.’
    It was the violet dress and coatee.
    ‘He seemed very disappointed to miss you, your young man. Rotten suit he was wearing.’
    The bell was being rung by the beadle and she could hear the happy sound of the doors being locked and blinds being pulled down. Jane stuffed the last pile of three-button cashmere shirts into their cubby-hole. They fitted easily now – the American couple played a lot of golf.
    ‘How much did they spend in the end?’
    ‘Two hundred and sixty quid,’ said Bennett glumly.
    They both silently calculated Brigitta’s two per cent. More than a week’s wages for Jane.

Chapter 6
    Just follow this simple, practical advice
and you, too, can evolve into a charming
and attractive woman. A magnet to
any single man and the natural focus
of attention at any social gathering.
     
    It was only when she was actually walking out of the shop that it dawned on Jane that finding Miss Crocodile might not be as easy as all that. Why hadn’t she just taken the bag round to the police at Vine Street? It was too late to take it in now and, anyway, the more she thought about it, the more she worried about the price tag and that envelope full of tenners – she hadn’t dared to count it.
    She walked along Piccadilly but carried on right past the side street where the oyster bar was. Instead she headed for the department store on the corner. She slipped off her coat as soon as she got inside, folding it round to the plain black silk lining: that was better. She swanned over to the perfume counter, swinging the Hardy Amies carrier with the violet dress and crocodile bag inside it. The salesgirl sprang to attention. She was thinking of changing her scent. Did Madam have anything in mind? Madam sniffed pickily at several before putting a big cold squirt of Joy on her wrist. The costliest perfume in the world . That was probably the only reason people bought it. It was a bit sickly, tell the truth.
    ‘I won’t buy it today, if you don’t mind. I need to get someone else’s opinion first.’ The saleslady smirked understandingly. They were used to people killing time. They got through six bottles of Joy a month: five for the browsers; one for the saleslady.
    Jane faffed around playing shops and being madamed a bit more before finally putting her coat back on and heading off for Carpenter’s.
    You could see into the restaurant from the street. It was nearly half past one but the place looked pretty dead with only a handful of old bachelors slurping down a few dozen oysters at the brass and mahogany counter. There was a rather lively little crowd in the bar next door but they could hardly be waiting for tables.
    Jane stood by the door pretending to study the menu but looking in through the lumpy yellow glass panes. Bingo. There in the middle of that laughing group, lit by the lamps that dangled above the bar, was the girl in the photograph.
    She was sitting on a high stool apparently in the middle of telling a funny story. She was wearing a shortish, short-sleeved dress in peacock-blue ribbed silk with a bubbling bib of black and blue beads. Her legs were crossed (high on the thigh, natch) and they dangled temptingly over the edge of the stool.
    Jane opened the door and slipped inside. The funny story was in full swing and the girl was telling it brilliantly. She had a delicious voice – like an actress but more natural. The accent had golden touches of Army and In-ja all gingered up by a spicy vocabulary that she used almost innocently, like Brigitta swearing in a foreign language.
    ‘So. The chap says, “Fifty quid! That’s a hell of a lot of money. What’s it made of?” ’ She giggled a little. ‘Now you mustn’t blame me for this. It was Dickie’s story so any complaints and you know where to go.’
    She took a tiny sip of her gin and tonic,