The Perfume Collector by Kathleen Tessaro

Author:Kathleen Tessaro
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9780062257833
Publisher: Harper
Published: 2013-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

It was half past midnight when Eva knocked on Miss Waverley’s door.

She opened it, wrapped in her dressing gown, and smiled. ‘I thought maybe you weren’t coming.’

The room was dark, just a few candles and a record playing. It was a hot night. The balcony doors were open. Eva could just make out the dark outline of a man, smoking in one of the chairs.

‘Oh.’ She backed away slightly. ‘You have company, miss.’

‘Oh, don’t mind him.’ Miss Waverley took her by the hand and closed the door. ‘He won’t trouble us.’ Then she walked over to the dressing table and poured Eva a drink. ‘Here. Want one? It’s about time you learned how to handle whisky.’

Eva looked at the outline of the man; at the glowing embers of his cigarette. Then she looked back at Miss Waverley, smiling at her in her scarlet silk dressing gown.

Eva took the glass, sat on the edge of the bed. She already knew how to drink whisky; she’d watched her uncle do it. She tossed the entire shot straight into the back of her throat, where it burned, searing down the centre of her. She held out the glass again and Miss Waverley laughed.

‘Well, look at you! So many hidden talents,’ she said, filling it again. Then she took a little package from the top of her wardrobe wrapped in pink tissue paper, tied with a white ribbon.

She laid it on the bed. ‘Here. Open it.’

Eva ran her fingers over the paper. She felt anxious; slightly woozy from the whisky. She tugged at the ribbon and the layers of paper floated to the side. Inside there was a tiny shell-pink demi bra and tap pants with embroidered lace silk stockings. They were extremely delicate and exquisitely made, with tiny bluebells hand-stitched along the borders.

‘They’re beautiful.’

‘Go on,’ Miss Waverley urged, ‘aren’t you going to try them on?’ She leaned back in the armchair, propping her feet up on the ottoman. ‘I want to see if they fit.’

Eva stood up; a reeling wave of light-headedness washed over her. She took the lingerie into the bathroom. The whisky had hit her hard; her hands seemed miles away from her body, her fingers tingling. She looked at her reflection in the mirror.

She didn’t want to change, but she didn’t want to seem rude either. Besides, they had played dress-up before.

Eva finished her drink. Then she put on the panties and bra, the silk stockings.

When she opened the door, Miss Waverley was waiting. She had changed the record. It was a slow song. The candles glimmered.

‘You look just perfect. Like a real lady.’

The man had got up and was standing in the shadows, by the doorway.

‘Now put some lipstick on. Just like I showed you.’

‘I’m not sure I want to.’ Her voice sounded small and far away.

Miss Waverley took a step closer. ‘Of course you do.’ Her voice lowered to a whisper. ‘He wants to take us with him. To California. We’re going to live in a big white

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