Room 2D

Story from Blushes 15 ‘It’s so good of you to come and pick her up, Mr Marley. I so hate to send her on the train alone because one  does  hear such awful things nowadays, and really I hadn’t time to drive her over myself. My plane’s at three and really…’ Sylvia Harmsworth’s explanations tailed off as she ushered her visitor in. She was in her thirties, 38 to be exact, though she wouldn’t thank you for reminding her of this. Still attractive, if a trifle full-blown, but with that slightly desperate look in the big brown eyes at times, which said: Every day I am a day older and I don’t know  what  to do about it. The daughter’s equally big brown eyes would not, of course, be saying that for years and years yet. At present, at 17, they were looking at the visitor with a tinge of apprehension. Charlotte hadn’t met Mr Marley before and she  was  going to spend two weeks with him. Two weeks in which mummy could recover from life’s

Story from Blushes 74 One doesn’t see that sort of thing nowadays of course. Nowadays there are too many so-called do-gooders about eager to think the worst. Too many busybodies interested in minding other people’s business and intent on discovering shock-horror scandals whether or not they exist. But before the war, back in the thirties, they were not uncommon. Even then of course they were not shouted from the rooftops; but if one knew where to look — in the advertisement pages of certain magazines (quite  proper  magazines but discreet ones) — then one would find these modest little announcements tucked quietly away. Private academy for young ladies. Something like that. The wording could vary of course. It might be —  Private tuition offered to young ladies.  Or —  Gentleman offers residential tuition to young lady. Private academies for young ladies. Residential or day attendance. The discreetly worded advertisements we