Read Online A Vision of Loveliness by Louise Levene - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Louise Levene
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and spray Jane’s hair into a neat chignon.
‘French pleats are nicer,’ she said, checking her own smooth profile in the mirror, ‘but your hair’s a bit long. Want to borrow a lipstick?’
It was wonderful. More wonderful than the suit really. Jane could have sat there all afternoon just looking at herself. The girl stood next to her, smiling, obviously waiting for Jane to smile back so Jane pulled her lips into a grateful shape.
‘That’s better. Do you not have a bag?’
‘I can’t afford a really nice one so I just keep my purse in my coat pocket.’
‘Tell you what. You borrow this one. I’d look bonkers carrying two.’
She handed Jane a black suede pochette she’d been carrying. Just right with the shoes.
‘You can give it back to me later.’
She finally took a proper look at the inside of the crocodile bag and took out the envelope. She still didn’t actually count it.
‘This’ll come in handy. I think this calls for a little celebration.’
Jane left her coat and carrier bag hanging on a hook and she followed the girl downstairs.
‘We haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m Suzy. Suzy St John.’
‘Jane. Jane James.’
‘Good name. Your own? Mine isn’t.’
They reached the bar where some of the life seemed to have leaked out of the little group.
‘Everybody, this is Janey James who has brought back my lovely crocodile bag and all my lovely winnings. Janey darling, this is Madge and Sylvia,’ Madge was the one with the laugh, ‘and this is Derek, Reggie and Bob and this disreputable-looking creature is Alpaca Pete.’
Pete took Jane’s hand and sized her up with his dirty brown eyes.
‘Peter Benson. How do you do?’
It was a posh voice but probably dyed rather than natural (Jane should know). He wore cavalry twill trousers, a lemon-yellow alpaca cardigan and a paisley silk cravat. Doreen would have had him down as a poof but he was just a man in a yellow cardigan.
They hadn’t looked at Jane when she came in but she wasn’t invisible now. They made room at the table while Suzy organised her little celebration.
‘I think we’d better make it a magnum, don’t you, Ted my darling?’ She crackled two of the crisp blue fivers and waved away the change. ‘Have a drink on me, Ted,’ she whispered. Flash.
Ted swerved out from behind the bar in his dapper maroon mess jacket and little black bow tie. He had a huge ice bucket in one hand and a bouquet of champagne saucers in the other. Jane knew about these, mainly from her etiquette books but also from Doreen’s sideboard which contained an odd pair – both pinched from the one and only wedding reception she’d agreed to go to. Jane used to drink cream soda out of them when Doreen was out. Cream soda was actually nicer, she thought, as she sipped the sour, icy bubbles.
There were lots of nice things to eat on the table. A mixed plate of smoked salmon and fresh crab sandwiches (on brown) and a huge glass dish divided into sections for Twiglets, Cheeselets, cheese straws, cheese footballs and green olives with red stuff inside. The glass ashtrays were printed with a picture of the Walrus and the Carpenter eating oysters. Similar prints covered the walls of the bar, as well as some grimy brown oil paintings showing silver trays heaped with lobsters and prawns and glassy-eyed fish. Jane sat there smiling over her champagne glass and nibbling shyly at a crab sandwich. She hadn’t said much but that probably wouldn’t matter. She looked nice, that was the important thing.
‘So what do you do, Janey?’ asked one of the men. Reg? Bob?
‘At the moment I’m working in the Albemarle Arcade, at Drayke’s.’ People always said ‘at the moment’ as if they were about to switch to something much, much better.
‘Ah, indeed,’ said Pete, ‘home of the alpaca cardigan.’
‘Done any modelling?’ wondered Reg. They were starting to sound like the awful man in the pub but Suzy joined in too, looking approvingly at
‘French pleats are nicer,’ she said, checking her own smooth profile in the mirror, ‘but your hair’s a bit long. Want to borrow a lipstick?’
It was wonderful. More wonderful than the suit really. Jane could have sat there all afternoon just looking at herself. The girl stood next to her, smiling, obviously waiting for Jane to smile back so Jane pulled her lips into a grateful shape.
‘That’s better. Do you not have a bag?’
‘I can’t afford a really nice one so I just keep my purse in my coat pocket.’
‘Tell you what. You borrow this one. I’d look bonkers carrying two.’
She handed Jane a black suede pochette she’d been carrying. Just right with the shoes.
‘You can give it back to me later.’
She finally took a proper look at the inside of the crocodile bag and took out the envelope. She still didn’t actually count it.
‘This’ll come in handy. I think this calls for a little celebration.’
Jane left her coat and carrier bag hanging on a hook and she followed the girl downstairs.
‘We haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m Suzy. Suzy St John.’
‘Jane. Jane James.’
‘Good name. Your own? Mine isn’t.’
They reached the bar where some of the life seemed to have leaked out of the little group.
‘Everybody, this is Janey James who has brought back my lovely crocodile bag and all my lovely winnings. Janey darling, this is Madge and Sylvia,’ Madge was the one with the laugh, ‘and this is Derek, Reggie and Bob and this disreputable-looking creature is Alpaca Pete.’
Pete took Jane’s hand and sized her up with his dirty brown eyes.
‘Peter Benson. How do you do?’
It was a posh voice but probably dyed rather than natural (Jane should know). He wore cavalry twill trousers, a lemon-yellow alpaca cardigan and a paisley silk cravat. Doreen would have had him down as a poof but he was just a man in a yellow cardigan.
They hadn’t looked at Jane when she came in but she wasn’t invisible now. They made room at the table while Suzy organised her little celebration.
‘I think we’d better make it a magnum, don’t you, Ted my darling?’ She crackled two of the crisp blue fivers and waved away the change. ‘Have a drink on me, Ted,’ she whispered. Flash.
Ted swerved out from behind the bar in his dapper maroon mess jacket and little black bow tie. He had a huge ice bucket in one hand and a bouquet of champagne saucers in the other. Jane knew about these, mainly from her etiquette books but also from Doreen’s sideboard which contained an odd pair – both pinched from the one and only wedding reception she’d agreed to go to. Jane used to drink cream soda out of them when Doreen was out. Cream soda was actually nicer, she thought, as she sipped the sour, icy bubbles.
There were lots of nice things to eat on the table. A mixed plate of smoked salmon and fresh crab sandwiches (on brown) and a huge glass dish divided into sections for Twiglets, Cheeselets, cheese straws, cheese footballs and green olives with red stuff inside. The glass ashtrays were printed with a picture of the Walrus and the Carpenter eating oysters. Similar prints covered the walls of the bar, as well as some grimy brown oil paintings showing silver trays heaped with lobsters and prawns and glassy-eyed fish. Jane sat there smiling over her champagne glass and nibbling shyly at a crab sandwich. She hadn’t said much but that probably wouldn’t matter. She looked nice, that was the important thing.
‘So what do you do, Janey?’ asked one of the men. Reg? Bob?
‘At the moment I’m working in the Albemarle Arcade, at Drayke’s.’ People always said ‘at the moment’ as if they were about to switch to something much, much better.
‘Ah, indeed,’ said Pete, ‘home of the alpaca cardigan.’
‘Done any modelling?’ wondered Reg. They were starting to sound like the awful man in the pub but Suzy joined in too, looking approvingly at
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