thinks the world of them.' There was a little silence and then Mrs Jefferson turned to smile at Rayanne. I'm so glad, dear child, that you and Cary get on so well together. You're perfectly matched.'
Rayanne was looking at the little old lady and saw beyond her Cary standing in the open doorway, a huge grin splitting his handsome face. He must have heard every word his mother had just said. Rayanne couldn't resist it..
' I certainly find him very attractive, but . . . but actually we're very different, Mrs Jefferson. I 'find him far too arrogant.'
Arrogant?' Mrs Jefferson sounded shocked. He doesn't mean to be, I'm sure. It's just that he has such a responsible job and has to give orders.'
' I'm not accustomed to obeying them.'
Mrs Jefferson chuckled. That's the whole point, dear child. Just pretend to and go your own sweet way. I always do. It works well and makes life more fun.'
Rayanne, staring over Mrs Jefferson's shoulder, saw Cary lift his hand as if in final salute and then
he walked away. She felt her tense body relax.
You're being very kind to me,' Rayanne said, deliberately changing the subject. ' I'm so grateful.'
Mrs Jefferson leant forward and patted Rayanne's knee.
Don't thank me, dear child, I love having you here. I've always wanted a daughter—someone like you. I don't think I've ever felt so optimistic about the future before.'
Again Rayanne felt her cheeks go hot. If only Cary's mother would stop planning the impossible. Rayanne was certain that Carry didn't see her as a woman . . . a woman he could love. Indeed, she wondered if he saw any women as people he could love; most of them seemed to be headaches '.
Do you dress up when you give dinner parties?' she asked, more as a ruse to guide Mrs Jefferson's thoughts away from her son's possible marriage. I don't think I expected anything like that. I thought this would be purely a working holiday.'
Let's have a look at your wardrobe.' Mrs Jefferson stood up and then paused. Is that impertinent? I mean, I didn't mean . .
Rayanne smiled. Of course I know you didn't, and I don't mind in the least showing you.'
They walked down the stoep to Rayanne's door, which was never locked. Inside, Rayanne showed Mrs Jefferson the few cocktail party dresses she had.
Do the others dress up?' she asked.
The plump little woman chuckled. ' And how! It's a positive battle, Rayanne dear. It's very funny, but also very sad. I wonder.' She stood
back, looking at Rayanne's figure. ' I wonder .. . Just wait a moment. I'll be back.'
Rayanne nodded and hung up her black trouser suit that was far too hot for this climate. Her green sparkling dress—that was also too hot. The evenings were so humid that anything but the thinnest dresses clung to your damp skin.
Mrs Jefferson came hurrying back; hanging over her arm was a pale blue satin dress. She shook it out and held it up before her. It came to the ground and had frills on the short sleeves and a high waist—
line, embroidered and smocked.
I t's beautiful . . . I ' Rayanne exclaimed.
Try it on, try it on,' Mrs Jefferson told her excitedly. I can't wait to see it on you.'
Rayanne slipped out of her yellow cotton frock and carefully put on the soft satin one. It fitted her
perfectly. She looked in the glass.
It's absolutely fabulous ! ' she said slowly. But
how did you know my size?'
She saw Mrs Jefferson's reflection in the mirror. The little old lady was shaking with laughter, unable to speak. Rayanne swung round. What's the joke?'
Oh dear . . . oh dear me . . . I'm sorry, Rayanne dear, but I can't stop laughing.' Slowly she gained control, then wiped her tearful eyes and smiled.
' It was my nightie, Rayanne—my trousseau nightie. My mother gave it to me. She said the colour was romantic. I never wore it—Cary's father loathed pale blue. He had a passion for white underclothes, as we called them in those days.' She
chuckled. You look beautiful in it. Of course, I
was much thinner in those
Rayanne was looking at the little old lady and saw beyond her Cary standing in the open doorway, a huge grin splitting his handsome face. He must have heard every word his mother had just said. Rayanne couldn't resist it..
' I certainly find him very attractive, but . . . but actually we're very different, Mrs Jefferson. I 'find him far too arrogant.'
Arrogant?' Mrs Jefferson sounded shocked. He doesn't mean to be, I'm sure. It's just that he has such a responsible job and has to give orders.'
' I'm not accustomed to obeying them.'
Mrs Jefferson chuckled. That's the whole point, dear child. Just pretend to and go your own sweet way. I always do. It works well and makes life more fun.'
Rayanne, staring over Mrs Jefferson's shoulder, saw Cary lift his hand as if in final salute and then
he walked away. She felt her tense body relax.
You're being very kind to me,' Rayanne said, deliberately changing the subject. ' I'm so grateful.'
Mrs Jefferson leant forward and patted Rayanne's knee.
Don't thank me, dear child, I love having you here. I've always wanted a daughter—someone like you. I don't think I've ever felt so optimistic about the future before.'
Again Rayanne felt her cheeks go hot. If only Cary's mother would stop planning the impossible. Rayanne was certain that Carry didn't see her as a woman . . . a woman he could love. Indeed, she wondered if he saw any women as people he could love; most of them seemed to be headaches '.
Do you dress up when you give dinner parties?' she asked, more as a ruse to guide Mrs Jefferson's thoughts away from her son's possible marriage. I don't think I expected anything like that. I thought this would be purely a working holiday.'
Let's have a look at your wardrobe.' Mrs Jefferson stood up and then paused. Is that impertinent? I mean, I didn't mean . .
Rayanne smiled. Of course I know you didn't, and I don't mind in the least showing you.'
They walked down the stoep to Rayanne's door, which was never locked. Inside, Rayanne showed Mrs Jefferson the few cocktail party dresses she had.
Do the others dress up?' she asked.
The plump little woman chuckled. ' And how! It's a positive battle, Rayanne dear. It's very funny, but also very sad. I wonder.' She stood
back, looking at Rayanne's figure. ' I wonder .. . Just wait a moment. I'll be back.'
Rayanne nodded and hung up her black trouser suit that was far too hot for this climate. Her green sparkling dress—that was also too hot. The evenings were so humid that anything but the thinnest dresses clung to your damp skin.
Mrs Jefferson came hurrying back; hanging over her arm was a pale blue satin dress. She shook it out and held it up before her. It came to the ground and had frills on the short sleeves and a high waist—
line, embroidered and smocked.
I t's beautiful . . . I ' Rayanne exclaimed.
Try it on, try it on,' Mrs Jefferson told her excitedly. I can't wait to see it on you.'
Rayanne slipped out of her yellow cotton frock and carefully put on the soft satin one. It fitted her
perfectly. She looked in the glass.
It's absolutely fabulous ! ' she said slowly. But
how did you know my size?'
She saw Mrs Jefferson's reflection in the mirror. The little old lady was shaking with laughter, unable to speak. Rayanne swung round. What's the joke?'
Oh dear . . . oh dear me . . . I'm sorry, Rayanne dear, but I can't stop laughing.' Slowly she gained control, then wiped her tearful eyes and smiled.
' It was my nightie, Rayanne—my trousseau nightie. My mother gave it to me. She said the colour was romantic. I never wore it—Cary's father loathed pale blue. He had a passion for white underclothes, as we called them in those days.' She
chuckled. You look beautiful in it. Of course, I
was much thinner in those
Similar Books
