Today’s writing prompt and my response.
Day four, and last, of the story. To read from the beginning, go here.
Yesterday, finally, dog: three words to use
It wasn’t until our last evening, over a luscious dinner in the grand dining room, that Aunty – and Patty – discovered which company Alan worked for. By that time, the house and garden’s charisma, strolls around the sparkling lake, good food and a glass or three of excellent wine, had served to bring out the less boring aspects of Alan. Also helped by Patty working her hardest to charm him, as the only male present. Still, they did seem to be getting on very well. Certainly the glares had turned to amiable smiles.
Already at her own peak charm entertaining guests, Aunty grew even more lively at hearing of Alan’s workplace.
‘Why, my dear man,’ she said, beaming at him, ‘that’s my old stamping ground. Spent the happiest and hardest working years of my life there.’ Her expression turned dreamily inward. ‘It seems like yesterday that I was there, such wonderful memories.’
‘Really?’ Alan looked harder at the very elderly lady sat beside him. I could see him suddenly taking in those once-famous cheekbones and swan-like neck. ‘How very interesting.’ He sounded as if he meant it.
‘Really?’ I echoed. While I knew Aunty had been a highy paid model in her day – there were gorgeous framed photos scattered discreetly around the house – I’d never thought to ask which agency. Well, you don’t, do you?
I glanced at Elly, appearing decidedly smug. ‘Did you know this?’ I whispered, recalling her brief to get close to Alan. ‘What have you got up your sleeve, Elly?’
Before she could answer, Patty’s heavy, breathy sigh, interrupted. ‘Oh, a model! I always wanted to be a model, but I never could find my way in.’ It was obvious hard for her to restrain herself from batting her eyelashes at Alan.
‘Patty, darling,’ Aunty said, studying her carefully, ‘you have all the right attributes as far as I can see.’ She turned to Alan. ‘You and I will introduce her. Our protegee.’
‘Is this what you planned?’ I asked Elly, surprised.
‘No, no,’ Elly said. ‘It’s a bonus though.’ She grinned, held out her hands. ‘I guess I better come clean.’
‘Yes, do.’ I crossed my arms and waited. The others frowned, waiting too.
‘So my PR company has your modelling agency as its newest client, Alan.’
‘I know.’ Alan raised his eyebrows. ‘I’ve seen the bills.’
Elly giggled. ‘I was told to come up with an engaging story, something different, for a new campaign and I thought –’ she leaned towards Alan and winked ‘– that having the dour accountant meet the retired famous model in such a lovely setting, and have her tell her stories, would be brilliant.’
‘Oh, yes, please, Elly.’ Aunty was thrilled at the chance to be in more photo shoots.
Alan chewed his lip, finally nodded in agreement. How could he let the lovely lady down.
*
Next weekend Alan, Elly and I made the journey again, with the photographer and interviewer.
Arranging Aunty and Alan as he wished, the photographer had only one complaint. ‘Wish you had a big dog to include. People love big dogs.’
Aunty waggled a finger at him. ‘Silly boy, of course not. Remember WC Fields’ sage advice? Never work with children or animals.’
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