other, so pleased with the car’s wonderful performance. Miss Fatt’s seat belt kept her breasts separate, for easy viewer identification; the rear-view mirror was angled towards her, so that she could judge whether the wind was blowing her hair in an unphotogenic direction. Ifthat happened, she had the authority to order the car stopped so that she could get a touch-up from the hairdresser – now if that wasn’t star treatment, what was? ‘How about a drink after?’ proposed the actor at the wheel to Miss Fatt. There was no sound being recorded by the cameras, of course, so only expert lip-readers would have known he wasn’t expressing his delight at the steering or suspension.
‘Why not invite me out to lunch?’ said Miss Fatt. She had never asked a man anything like this before.
The actor laughed. ‘All right, love.’
Over the roar of the engine, which in the finished commercial would be replaced by exhilarating music, Miss Fatt’s stomach rumbled and whined.
Second Month
By the 25th of May, Miss Fatt and Miss Thinne were developing rather different shapes from those they’d had for years. The cause was, respectively, eating and not eating.
In the mornings, Miss Thinne ate almost nothing, and Miss Fatt almost everything. Because the grocery expenses remained much the same, neither of the women made any fuss about this new routine; in any case, it had established itself so abruptly and so invincibly that they were forced to accept that it was meant to be.
Only once did they share any apprehension about what might lie in store for them, and on that occasion they merely caught each other’s eye across the kitchen table and, pushing aside for a moment a bowl of porridge and a stick of celery respectively, they joined hands and squeezed until their grip trembled and tears welled up in their eyes.
‘You’re looking awfully smart, Eleanor,’ Miss Thinne’s co-workers said at first, for her weight loss made her look, well, willowy , at least in clothes.
‘How do you do it?’ was also much asked. ‘Whenever I go on a diet, nothing happens.’
And then again: ‘Being skinny’s all the rage these days. When I was a girl, you were supposed to be plump and rosy!’
Miss Thinne was thin and rosy. The rosy part was from a make-up kit.
Miss Fatt did a lot of exercise each day, to keep her weight gain within reasonable limits. Her belly was still trim, but she was putting on quite a bit on her breasts, thighs and bottom.
‘Shaping up for Lethal Weapon VI , eh?’ guessed Mr Carp. ‘You’ll stun ’em, Suzie.’
‘What a body,’ sighed Mr Bravitt, out of earshot.
Miss Fatt’s actor friend took her out to lunch and dinner regularly. A couple of times she’d even accompanied him back to his flat, which had very little in it except a bed and a refrigerator. She’d used his refrigerator, but not his bed, though she knew it was only a matter of time before he demanded some sort of sexual reward for his generosity. The problem was, sometimes his flat was just so much closer, as far as the next meal was concerned, than her own home.
Third Month
By the 25th of June the two women were becoming remarkable.
Miss Thinne was as thin as she had been at the beginning of puberty. Her thighs and calves had lost all superfluous fat; her clavicles and shoulderblades were becoming prominent, her fingers taper-like. Her bra became wrinkled with unoccupied space; her clothes hung loose and slid about on her as she moved. Her neck seemed to have grown; cheekbones appeared where none, even with the aid of cosmetics, had ever been before.
‘You know, Eleanor,’ suggested her colleagues. ‘You may be taking this diet too far. ’
‘Think of your health, dear. We wouldn’t want you to disappear into thin air. ’
‘You look great just as you are now, honestly.’
‘But it’s not that I’m dieting,’ protested Miss Thinne mildly. ‘I just don’t want to eat anything.’
In that case, it was agreed, she
‘Why not invite me out to lunch?’ said Miss Fatt. She had never asked a man anything like this before.
The actor laughed. ‘All right, love.’
Over the roar of the engine, which in the finished commercial would be replaced by exhilarating music, Miss Fatt’s stomach rumbled and whined.
Second Month
By the 25th of May, Miss Fatt and Miss Thinne were developing rather different shapes from those they’d had for years. The cause was, respectively, eating and not eating.
In the mornings, Miss Thinne ate almost nothing, and Miss Fatt almost everything. Because the grocery expenses remained much the same, neither of the women made any fuss about this new routine; in any case, it had established itself so abruptly and so invincibly that they were forced to accept that it was meant to be.
Only once did they share any apprehension about what might lie in store for them, and on that occasion they merely caught each other’s eye across the kitchen table and, pushing aside for a moment a bowl of porridge and a stick of celery respectively, they joined hands and squeezed until their grip trembled and tears welled up in their eyes.
‘You’re looking awfully smart, Eleanor,’ Miss Thinne’s co-workers said at first, for her weight loss made her look, well, willowy , at least in clothes.
‘How do you do it?’ was also much asked. ‘Whenever I go on a diet, nothing happens.’
And then again: ‘Being skinny’s all the rage these days. When I was a girl, you were supposed to be plump and rosy!’
Miss Thinne was thin and rosy. The rosy part was from a make-up kit.
Miss Fatt did a lot of exercise each day, to keep her weight gain within reasonable limits. Her belly was still trim, but she was putting on quite a bit on her breasts, thighs and bottom.
‘Shaping up for Lethal Weapon VI , eh?’ guessed Mr Carp. ‘You’ll stun ’em, Suzie.’
‘What a body,’ sighed Mr Bravitt, out of earshot.
Miss Fatt’s actor friend took her out to lunch and dinner regularly. A couple of times she’d even accompanied him back to his flat, which had very little in it except a bed and a refrigerator. She’d used his refrigerator, but not his bed, though she knew it was only a matter of time before he demanded some sort of sexual reward for his generosity. The problem was, sometimes his flat was just so much closer, as far as the next meal was concerned, than her own home.
Third Month
By the 25th of June the two women were becoming remarkable.
Miss Thinne was as thin as she had been at the beginning of puberty. Her thighs and calves had lost all superfluous fat; her clavicles and shoulderblades were becoming prominent, her fingers taper-like. Her bra became wrinkled with unoccupied space; her clothes hung loose and slid about on her as she moved. Her neck seemed to have grown; cheekbones appeared where none, even with the aid of cosmetics, had ever been before.
‘You know, Eleanor,’ suggested her colleagues. ‘You may be taking this diet too far. ’
‘Think of your health, dear. We wouldn’t want you to disappear into thin air. ’
‘You look great just as you are now, honestly.’
‘But it’s not that I’m dieting,’ protested Miss Thinne mildly. ‘I just don’t want to eat anything.’
In that case, it was agreed, she
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