She was all in white. Rowland was very careful with Mary’s lighting, so that her short white fur boots kicked out clouds of the white chiffon shawl. Mary was a pale, tallish wisp, with long, naturally fair hair falling almost to her waist. She adored Nina and Rowland, especially because he wrote her letters for her at her dictation. Mary was totally unable to spell or write in any language, including her own. She could start a letter Dear Dad, but never got as far as Dad, being unsure whether to put Dere, Dear, Deer or maybe Dier or Dior. It puzzled her so much that she became almost ill if she had to write or type a message. Her experience of the hilarity which her many attempts had hitherto provoked, in schools and out of them, altogether unnerved her. She had been put through many forms of treatment without success. She had very little to guide her where words were concerned. She spoke well and clearly, without trouble, but she simply could not turn speech into spelling, having neither a phonetical ear nor a photographic eye for it. Rowland always took down her messages and conveyed them with great kindness and pleasure. He discerned that she could mentally photograph a few short slogans and was quite good at prices. He therefore predicted for Mary a successful career in the village shop that she craved, selling ceramics and transparent scarves. She would also be an adorable wife and mother, he told her. She loved Rowland for all this. She had never felt so confident, and now that he was manipulating the lighting for her catwalk appearance, she felt as radiant as she looked.
Rowland’s eyes were on Chris, now, announcing, “Our stunning No. 3, the stately brown-haired model Joan Archer whose . . .” His voice was lost in the applause as Joan, stately indeed, and decidedly robust compared to the first two girls, stepped forth in a black satin sheath with bare shoulders. She wore a dog collar of fake diamonds from the local supermarket and a pair of long green gloves. Joan was very swingy. She was hoping to be accepted in a drama school next year. Chris, watching her, thought she might be a good Mary Queen of Scots in the motion picture of his novel.
But then came Lionel Haas himself, relieved from his double duty as lighting assistant, to Rowland. He wore a flowered shirt and shorts, satin, with a dark background, a pair of long, white-rimmed sunglasses, a soft panama hat and gold leather sandals. Picking up his seaside summery statement, Pallas Kapelas followed wearing a minimal gray bikini. She wore rimless sunglasses and she, too, wore gold sandals. Less confident than the girls who had preceded them, both Lionel and Pallas nonetheless put on an attractive performance, with much elegant elbow and footwork.
Opal Gross, being tiny, had thought well to project her presence with an enormous, high, cone-shaped hat, covered with flowers, feathers, shells, heads of corn and small pinecones. She wore a simple Greek-style tunic that she had brought back from her Aegean holiday, with bare legs and feet. As Chris announced Opal he observed over the top of her hat the faces of Nina and Israel Brown smiling at each other with extreme affability at the same time as they joyfully applauded.
Pansy Leghorn or Leg was also a small girl, but she had decided to be herself in her shell-pink taffeta evening dress, and shoes to match. She wore a pearl tiara and carried a very large box of chocolates under her left arm. As she kicked her skirts out on the catwalk, there flashed glimpses of a black frilled petticoat.
Chris had slipped away, and now it was near his turn. He had not changed from his dark suit, white shirt and floppy green tie, but he brought with him on his arm Lisa Orlando with her shiny black bobbed hair and golden skin. Lisa was a southern Italian. Chris had arranged to take her with him to make Lionel jealous, as everyone supposed. Lisa wore a green shawl arranged to cover only one shoulder and one breast, reaching to
Rowland’s eyes were on Chris, now, announcing, “Our stunning No. 3, the stately brown-haired model Joan Archer whose . . .” His voice was lost in the applause as Joan, stately indeed, and decidedly robust compared to the first two girls, stepped forth in a black satin sheath with bare shoulders. She wore a dog collar of fake diamonds from the local supermarket and a pair of long green gloves. Joan was very swingy. She was hoping to be accepted in a drama school next year. Chris, watching her, thought she might be a good Mary Queen of Scots in the motion picture of his novel.
But then came Lionel Haas himself, relieved from his double duty as lighting assistant, to Rowland. He wore a flowered shirt and shorts, satin, with a dark background, a pair of long, white-rimmed sunglasses, a soft panama hat and gold leather sandals. Picking up his seaside summery statement, Pallas Kapelas followed wearing a minimal gray bikini. She wore rimless sunglasses and she, too, wore gold sandals. Less confident than the girls who had preceded them, both Lionel and Pallas nonetheless put on an attractive performance, with much elegant elbow and footwork.
Opal Gross, being tiny, had thought well to project her presence with an enormous, high, cone-shaped hat, covered with flowers, feathers, shells, heads of corn and small pinecones. She wore a simple Greek-style tunic that she had brought back from her Aegean holiday, with bare legs and feet. As Chris announced Opal he observed over the top of her hat the faces of Nina and Israel Brown smiling at each other with extreme affability at the same time as they joyfully applauded.
Pansy Leghorn or Leg was also a small girl, but she had decided to be herself in her shell-pink taffeta evening dress, and shoes to match. She wore a pearl tiara and carried a very large box of chocolates under her left arm. As she kicked her skirts out on the catwalk, there flashed glimpses of a black frilled petticoat.
Chris had slipped away, and now it was near his turn. He had not changed from his dark suit, white shirt and floppy green tie, but he brought with him on his arm Lisa Orlando with her shiny black bobbed hair and golden skin. Lisa was a southern Italian. Chris had arranged to take her with him to make Lionel jealous, as everyone supposed. Lisa wore a green shawl arranged to cover only one shoulder and one breast, reaching to
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