violets Eddie gave me, the powder and lipstick you gave me.’
‘What did this cost?’ Maud probed tactlessly, holding the dress up in front of her and swaying before the wardrobe mirror.
‘It was a present. For passing my examinations.’
‘You lucky duck. I’ll never be clever enough to try, let alone pass anything. What you going to wear on top? Surely not your old black coat?’
‘Mam Powell’s shawl and the only coat I possess.’
‘It would look better with furs.’
‘Anything would look better with furs. I must ask Haydn to borrow Glan’s gun and go up the mountain and shoot something. Mind you, it will take an awful lot of rats to make a coat.’
‘When I’m old enough to go to balls, I’m going to have furs,’ Maud said decisively, laying Bethan’s dress on the bed.
‘The underclothes?’ Bethan reminded.
She finished washing, picked up a bowl of talcum powder from the dressing table and puffed it liberally over herself then looked down. She was standing in a puddle of white dust.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll wipe it up before Mam sees it,’ Maud offered.
‘You won’t forget?’
‘Promise.’ Maud extricated the underwear and scent. Picking up Bethan’s jewellery box she set it down on the bed next to the dress and rummaged through the trinkets. Bethan slipped on the silk underwear. She rolled and clipped on the stockings Megan had given her, checking the seams in the mirror, then sat in front of the dressing table. She dabbed a little rouge high on her cheekbones, face powder on her nose, combed Vaseline on to her eyelashes, pencilled over her heavily plucked eyebrows and liberally coated her lips with “flame-red” Hollywood stick, “as worn by the stars”.
‘Scent,’ Maud prompted.
Bethan dabbed scent behind her ears, on her throat, hair and in the crooks of her elbows and knees. Then, on hands and knees, she scrabbled in the bottom of the wardrobe she shared with Maud. After throwing out two worn pairs of plimsolls and a pair of rubber boots, she finally came up with the black patent, strapped sandals she wanted.
As soon as she buckled them on she picked up the dress, holding it carefully she slid it over her head and Maud buttoned up the back.
‘What jewellery?’ Maud asked.
‘The black glass necklace and earrings Haydn gave me for my birthday. They’ll match the shawl.’
‘You don’t want to wear the Bakelite piggy I gave you?’
Bethan looked hard at her sister. Maud had a peculiar sense of humour, but she could also be over sensitive at times.
‘Got you going, didn’t I?’
Bethan threw her powder puff at her.
‘Great, now I get to clean up the bed as well as the floor.’
‘Serve you right’
At twenty five minutes to nine Bethan stood in front of the mirror. She turned on her heel and tried to view herself from the back. The dress was incredible. Beautifully cut, it clung tightly, if a little too revealingly, to her bust, waist and hips and swirled fashionably around her long slim legs. For the first time in her life she felt very nearly pretty.
‘Will you lend me that frock when I go to my first ball?’
‘If you grow another six inches. I’m not lopping that much off the bottom.’
‘I wish I was tall and dark like you.’
‘And I wish I was small and blonde like you.’ Bethan leaned over and kissed Maud’s cheek carefully so as not to smudge her lipstick ‘Thanks for the help. I couldn’t have done without you.’
‘Your bag.’ Maud reminded. Another two minutes were spent frantically searching the back of the wardrobe for the black sequinned bag that Bethan had bought in a mad moment of extravagance from Wilf Horton’s second hand stall on the market. Bethan draped the shawl around herself while Maud filled the bag. She managed to stuff a lace handkerchief, a small bottle of essence of violets scent, a comb and Bethan’s lipstick into the cramped interior.
‘All I need is some change and I’m set to go.’
‘What happens if
‘What did this cost?’ Maud probed tactlessly, holding the dress up in front of her and swaying before the wardrobe mirror.
‘It was a present. For passing my examinations.’
‘You lucky duck. I’ll never be clever enough to try, let alone pass anything. What you going to wear on top? Surely not your old black coat?’
‘Mam Powell’s shawl and the only coat I possess.’
‘It would look better with furs.’
‘Anything would look better with furs. I must ask Haydn to borrow Glan’s gun and go up the mountain and shoot something. Mind you, it will take an awful lot of rats to make a coat.’
‘When I’m old enough to go to balls, I’m going to have furs,’ Maud said decisively, laying Bethan’s dress on the bed.
‘The underclothes?’ Bethan reminded.
She finished washing, picked up a bowl of talcum powder from the dressing table and puffed it liberally over herself then looked down. She was standing in a puddle of white dust.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll wipe it up before Mam sees it,’ Maud offered.
‘You won’t forget?’
‘Promise.’ Maud extricated the underwear and scent. Picking up Bethan’s jewellery box she set it down on the bed next to the dress and rummaged through the trinkets. Bethan slipped on the silk underwear. She rolled and clipped on the stockings Megan had given her, checking the seams in the mirror, then sat in front of the dressing table. She dabbed a little rouge high on her cheekbones, face powder on her nose, combed Vaseline on to her eyelashes, pencilled over her heavily plucked eyebrows and liberally coated her lips with “flame-red” Hollywood stick, “as worn by the stars”.
‘Scent,’ Maud prompted.
Bethan dabbed scent behind her ears, on her throat, hair and in the crooks of her elbows and knees. Then, on hands and knees, she scrabbled in the bottom of the wardrobe she shared with Maud. After throwing out two worn pairs of plimsolls and a pair of rubber boots, she finally came up with the black patent, strapped sandals she wanted.
As soon as she buckled them on she picked up the dress, holding it carefully she slid it over her head and Maud buttoned up the back.
‘What jewellery?’ Maud asked.
‘The black glass necklace and earrings Haydn gave me for my birthday. They’ll match the shawl.’
‘You don’t want to wear the Bakelite piggy I gave you?’
Bethan looked hard at her sister. Maud had a peculiar sense of humour, but she could also be over sensitive at times.
‘Got you going, didn’t I?’
Bethan threw her powder puff at her.
‘Great, now I get to clean up the bed as well as the floor.’
‘Serve you right’
At twenty five minutes to nine Bethan stood in front of the mirror. She turned on her heel and tried to view herself from the back. The dress was incredible. Beautifully cut, it clung tightly, if a little too revealingly, to her bust, waist and hips and swirled fashionably around her long slim legs. For the first time in her life she felt very nearly pretty.
‘Will you lend me that frock when I go to my first ball?’
‘If you grow another six inches. I’m not lopping that much off the bottom.’
‘I wish I was tall and dark like you.’
‘And I wish I was small and blonde like you.’ Bethan leaned over and kissed Maud’s cheek carefully so as not to smudge her lipstick ‘Thanks for the help. I couldn’t have done without you.’
‘Your bag.’ Maud reminded. Another two minutes were spent frantically searching the back of the wardrobe for the black sequinned bag that Bethan had bought in a mad moment of extravagance from Wilf Horton’s second hand stall on the market. Bethan draped the shawl around herself while Maud filled the bag. She managed to stuff a lace handkerchief, a small bottle of essence of violets scent, a comb and Bethan’s lipstick into the cramped interior.
‘All I need is some change and I’m set to go.’
‘What happens if
Similar Books
