conversing with someone who was hard of hearing.
‘A mayor in the Australian Outback has called on ladies who are plain looking to move to his town. A shortage of women means the men there aren’t too picky. He says, “ Quite often you will see a lass here who is maybe not so attractive … yet she has a wide smile
on
her face. Perhaps she’s thinking about a recent meeting with an eager man, or else is keen for the next one! If you’re an ugly duckling, why not move here? Let the attention you’ll receive turn you into a beautiful swan
.”’
Anthea glanced up at her younger sister. Jane’s face shone with hope. Anthea’s face, however, was rigid with anger. ‘This is absolutely outrageous. It’s awful! How dare this Aussie mayor judge women only by the way they look! What about character? And brains? Who cares about looks? You’re so clever and funny, Jane.’
‘So bloody what?’ she replied tightly, her smile gone. ‘Any bloke who ever liked my sense of humour ended up by falling in love with
you
instead.’ She looked at her elder sister with slant-eyed hostility.
A passerby would not have picked them out as sisters. Whereas Anthea glided, Jane stomped. Anthea was trim, with a swimmer’s body. The loose hammocks of flesh under Jane’s mottled upper arms wobbled when she moved. Anthea was fine-featured like their mother had been. (Jane secretly thought her elder sister’s nose a little hawk-like which made her look predatory.) Jane knew that her own soft button of a nose was lost in her big-boned face, as though it had been stuck on with Blu-Tack.
The one thing they did share was a talent for making cutting remarks. Their tongues were sharp enough to shave your legs with.
‘Women are as close to being valued for their characters as Lady Gaga is to joining a convent,’ Jane declared bitterly.
‘But you’re very attractive, Jane – in your own way.’
Jane’s eyes flashed before narrowing in a look of contempt. ‘Oh, please don’t treat me like a child. Do you think Mum knew all along I was going to be plain? She named you Anthea, which means flower, and then took one look at me in the crib and decided “plain Jane”.’
Uncomfortable with the familiar turn their talk was taking, Anthea changed tack. ‘I can’t believe that Outback mayor says the town welcomes women who are “plain looking”. That must make the ones who are in the town already feel just dreadful.’
Jane shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I think he’s just being practical.’
‘We all know about racism. Well, this man has face-ism,’ Anthea said crisply, as if addressing an invisible jury. ‘He’s facially prejudiced.’
Jane’s eyes glittered with spite. ‘Oh, and you’re not? You judge
your
man by
his
looks. You once said to me, “no pecs, no sex”’. And anyway, Rupert, your live-in Ken doll,
he
judges
you
by your looks. Do you think he’d be living with you if you looked like
me
?’
Anthea thought for a moment of her handsome, clever fiancé, Rupert. He was a successful lawyer with a big firm in the City of London. They’d been engaged for four years, which did seem rather a long time. But they’d both been too busy to organise the wedding. Let alone take time off to go on honeymoon … Well, it was mostly Rupert who was too busy.
Anthea was desperate to ‘tie the knot’, as her mother used to call it. As soon as her fiancé was made a partner in his law firm, he had promised that she would become Mrs Rupert Cavendish. It was a title she craved.
Anthea took a deep breath and then employed the reasonable tone she used to calm traffic wardens and hostile witnesses in court. ‘I know you’ve taken against Rupert, but you’re wrong. He’s a …’
‘… shallow snob who is just using you. If there were a competition for Mr Caring and Sharing, Rupert would be knocked out first, along with Dracula and Voldemort. He’s nothing more than a corporate cowboy.’
Anthea’s anger boiled over like
‘A mayor in the Australian Outback has called on ladies who are plain looking to move to his town. A shortage of women means the men there aren’t too picky. He says, “ Quite often you will see a lass here who is maybe not so attractive … yet she has a wide smile
on
her face. Perhaps she’s thinking about a recent meeting with an eager man, or else is keen for the next one! If you’re an ugly duckling, why not move here? Let the attention you’ll receive turn you into a beautiful swan
.”’
Anthea glanced up at her younger sister. Jane’s face shone with hope. Anthea’s face, however, was rigid with anger. ‘This is absolutely outrageous. It’s awful! How dare this Aussie mayor judge women only by the way they look! What about character? And brains? Who cares about looks? You’re so clever and funny, Jane.’
‘So bloody what?’ she replied tightly, her smile gone. ‘Any bloke who ever liked my sense of humour ended up by falling in love with
you
instead.’ She looked at her elder sister with slant-eyed hostility.
A passerby would not have picked them out as sisters. Whereas Anthea glided, Jane stomped. Anthea was trim, with a swimmer’s body. The loose hammocks of flesh under Jane’s mottled upper arms wobbled when she moved. Anthea was fine-featured like their mother had been. (Jane secretly thought her elder sister’s nose a little hawk-like which made her look predatory.) Jane knew that her own soft button of a nose was lost in her big-boned face, as though it had been stuck on with Blu-Tack.
The one thing they did share was a talent for making cutting remarks. Their tongues were sharp enough to shave your legs with.
‘Women are as close to being valued for their characters as Lady Gaga is to joining a convent,’ Jane declared bitterly.
‘But you’re very attractive, Jane – in your own way.’
Jane’s eyes flashed before narrowing in a look of contempt. ‘Oh, please don’t treat me like a child. Do you think Mum knew all along I was going to be plain? She named you Anthea, which means flower, and then took one look at me in the crib and decided “plain Jane”.’
Uncomfortable with the familiar turn their talk was taking, Anthea changed tack. ‘I can’t believe that Outback mayor says the town welcomes women who are “plain looking”. That must make the ones who are in the town already feel just dreadful.’
Jane shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I think he’s just being practical.’
‘We all know about racism. Well, this man has face-ism,’ Anthea said crisply, as if addressing an invisible jury. ‘He’s facially prejudiced.’
Jane’s eyes glittered with spite. ‘Oh, and you’re not? You judge
your
man by
his
looks. You once said to me, “no pecs, no sex”’. And anyway, Rupert, your live-in Ken doll,
he
judges
you
by your looks. Do you think he’d be living with you if you looked like
me
?’
Anthea thought for a moment of her handsome, clever fiancé, Rupert. He was a successful lawyer with a big firm in the City of London. They’d been engaged for four years, which did seem rather a long time. But they’d both been too busy to organise the wedding. Let alone take time off to go on honeymoon … Well, it was mostly Rupert who was too busy.
Anthea was desperate to ‘tie the knot’, as her mother used to call it. As soon as her fiancé was made a partner in his law firm, he had promised that she would become Mrs Rupert Cavendish. It was a title she craved.
Anthea took a deep breath and then employed the reasonable tone she used to calm traffic wardens and hostile witnesses in court. ‘I know you’ve taken against Rupert, but you’re wrong. He’s a …’
‘… shallow snob who is just using you. If there were a competition for Mr Caring and Sharing, Rupert would be knocked out first, along with Dracula and Voldemort. He’s nothing more than a corporate cowboy.’
Anthea’s anger boiled over like
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