The Exciting Life by Karen Mason Page A

my father and I only have vague memories of
my mother. She died and we were put into an orphanage.’
    ‘ Well it certainly doesn’t show. You come across as someone who
was born with class.’
    ‘ Thank you,’ she replied. ‘Just shows all the work Aunt Nesta
and Uncle Michael put in was worth it.’
    ‘ Well, I’ll drop by tomorrow and have a look at your sketches
and see who I think would benefit from wearing a pair of your
shoes. I know a lot of famous women.’
    ‘ I bet you do,’ she quipped.
    ‘ Cheeky,’ he smiled. ‘I’ll see who I can persuade to wear a
pair. If she’s seen out and about in your shoes and photographed,
it’ll get you publicity.’
    ‘ You don’t have to do this for me.’
    ‘ Listen, you get lots of commissions, my Papa gets lots of
work. Everybody wins.’
    ‘ And there was me thinking you wanted to impress
me.’
    He
raised one of his heavy brows and smiled, sipping his
drink.
    ‘ Who says I didn’t?’

Chapter Five
     
    April
1959
     
    Iris lay next to Patrick, listening to the sound of the rain
beating on the window - punctuated with his snores, and realised it
was unlikely she was going to get to sleep any time soon. She
rolled onto her side and in the half-light, looked at her lover and
thought how strange men were. Patrick was probably one of the
best-looking men she’d ever been with, and yet he bored her. In her
time she’d had some ugly bastards – look at Arthur Hatfield. But
they’d had something about them that had excited or interested her.
Patrick was very pretty, but he was dull. When they were out, he’d
rarely talk to her. Depending on where they were, he’d be talking
business to some other heavy, or if they were at Bruno’s, he’d
still be drawn to Annie; and the rapport he shared with her was
more natural than anything between him and Iris. In bed he was
strictly ‘ wham bam thank you
ma’am’ . Like all men, he’d made the effort
at first, but now he was just concerned with his own pleasure,
before rolling off her and going to sleep.
    But
despite that, he was probably the best catch Iris had ever had. She
didn’t tell him that she still saw Arthur Hatfield one evening a
week – although he was usually too pissed to want to do anything;
and there were her other two clients - the big boss from the
railways who would treat her to an overnight stay at The Hilton
Park Lane once a fortnight, and the judge who she saw one afternoon
a week in his chambers. She saw them purely to pay the rent and
keep herself afloat. As much as she disliked working for Annie, if
she offered her regular work, she would have given up the whoring
and stuck with modelling. But it didn’t pay enough, simple as
that
    She was
also aware that Annie was still attracted to Patrick. Sometimes
they would be in Bruno’s and Iris would catch her throwing him the
occasional longing glance. That would always make Iris feel good –
knowing she was the one going home with him at the end of the
evening. Iris wasn’t even sure why Annie still wanted Patrick –
Eddie Glass was gorgeous. He was a proper man; almost forty,
confident and rich of his own accord. Not a jumped up daddy’s boy
like Patrick. Iris often wondered if she could work her womanly
ways on him, but decided not to. If she was ever going to get a
share of what she felt she was owed, it wasn’t going to happen if
she carried on stealing men off Annie.
    She sat
up and lit a cigarette, and the movement was enough to disturb
Patrick. He grumbled and turned his head to look at her.
    ‘ Can’t you sleep?’ he asked.
    ‘ No,’ she smiled sweetly, reaching down and stroking his soft
hair. ‘Rain always keeps me awake.’
    ‘ Did you enjoy yourself tonight?’ he asked, his eyes drooping.
He wasn’t so interested in what she had to say that it stopped him
from sleeping.
    ‘ What, just then?’
    ‘ No. Dinner, with Oscar London?’
    ‘ Oh, that. Yes, it was very enjoyable. Are you going to invest
money in his