Season of Terror

by Tigger
© 2002, All Rights Reserved

 

Chapter 13: Moments in Time; Seasons of Growth

 

"Marie?" Jane Thompson called as she entered the kitchen following breakfast. "Did you give Victoria something that cleans away the deep-dye cosmetics? She looked lovely this morning."

The smile that answered Jane was weary. "Nothing like that. Just a little magic with ordinary make-up."

"You mean she learned that from your session with her yesterday?"

The petite Frenchwoman half snorted, half laughed. "Not hardly. She was knocking at my door this morning before sunrise, and begged me to teach her how to deal with too much color."

"_Before_ sunrise?" Jane asked in disbelief. "The student who has been disciplined at least once a week since she first arrived here for being discourteously late for breakfast? Our hibernating little bear-cub? Up before sunrise? On her OWN?!?!"

"Surprised the heck out of me, too, Jane," Marie assured her.

"My goodness. Well, that says something about her intentions for the rest of her stay, wouldn't you say? So, that make-up job was your work?"

Marie shook her head and settled heavily onto one of her stools. "What you saw at the table this morning was all her own effort," she said and then grinned. "It was her fourth try, but all her own work."

"You sat through four complete make-up jobs when you should have been sleeping?"

"Six, actually - I had to show her how twice."

"You poor dear," Jane said. She was about to tell her friend that she'd take care of the breakfast dishes when the door opened to admit Victoria, heavily laden with dishes, silverware and other breakfast detritus.

"Marie?" Victoria said with a smile. "Look, you go relax, okay? I'll take care of the clearing up and seeing to the dishes." Then she saw Jane. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Jane. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You are offering to take care of the breakfast clean-up?" Jane asked carefully.

"Oh, yes, Ma'am," Victoria replied cheerfully. "Ms. Marie helped me. . .well, helped me and I saw how tired she was this morning. I mean, I do it often enough so it's no big deal." Turning to Marie, she continued. "Would you like me to make you some tea or something, Marie?"

Jane watched the exchange. *No big deal, except that you've never offered to do it without being told before. Of course, you may feel that you owe Marie, but still, you didn't have to be asked or told. Points to you, child.*

"Tea sounds lovely, Victoria," Jane interjected. "Please serve it in my study in say, an hour? Marie and I will be in there. Oh, and bring three cups, please? You will pour. Marie?"

"Coming, Jane, and thank you very much, Victoria. I do need a break."

~-----------~

"Jane Thompson speaking."

"Jane? Carolyn Beale."

A frisson of concern ran through Jane. She'd made the decision to have Marie drop Victoria off at the Chalet today instead of escorting her student personally. It was in the way of being a test. Would the child behave without the 'wrath of Jane' being nearby? "Problems with Victoria, Caro?"

"No, at least I don't think so, but she came in here alone and told us that you'd said she could pick her own look. Is that right?"

Jane stifled a sigh of relief. "Yes, Caro, that is true, so long as the look is suited to Victoria and not Victor, of course."

"Well, then that's okay, I guess. . ."

"You guess?!?!"

"Well, she did ask to have her hair changed - nothing inappropriate," Carolyn hastened to add, "Just a bit of a surprise. She wants longer extensions."

"How strange. I was sure she'd want her natural hair color back, but longer hair? What did she ask for, specifically."

"Well, get this, Jane. She actually told me that if she can't sit down on them, they're not long enough."

Jane nearly choked on her tea. "That's . . . unexpected."

"It's sure unique in my experience with your kids, Jane. What do you want us to do with her?"

*The longer hair won't be a problem for my plans - might even be a plus in the future. What is going on inside that child's mind? Can't help wishing she had a big sister. She obviously has no idea how much trouble she is taking on with that request though.* "As long as it's age appropriate and feminine, I think we should let her try it, Caro. We can always cut it later if it becomes a problem. I need to see if she's ready to become a big sister."

That caught Carolyn's attention. "You have a new one lined up?"

"Yes, and it will be a very hard one, Caro. This new child has grave issues. I need to know if Victoria is ready for that challenge."

"Awfully sudden turnaround, isn't it?"

"That's why I'm testing her, Carolyn."

"How hard do you want her tested, Jane?"

"What do you mean, Carolyn?"

"Sandy," the other woman said quietly. "She's scheduled to work with Victoria and well, you know how she is with your students."

Jane considered that and again wished she could be there, just in case. *But no, I either believe in my own, Marie's and Michael's assessment of this child, or I don't. If Victoria is ready for this new challenge, then she will have to up to dealing with Sandy, even at her worst.* She sighed. "Let me speak with Sandy, Carolyn. This will be just one more test she needs to pass before she can guide a little sister through your Feminine Inquisition."

"Jane!" Carolyn laughed accusingly. "I don't even like Monty Python! See you soon, dear. Wait one while I get Sandy to pick up in the office."

~-----------~

"Hi there, cutie," Sandy cooed as she wrapped the protective apron about Victoria's neck. "So, we're going to change your hair color today, eh? Add a little length and fullness, too."

"Yes, Sandy," Victoria answered warily.

"Well, that's great. Say, riddle me this, Victoria. What's the mating cry of the wild redhead?"

"Huh?"

"You know, it's like a blonde joke except about redheads. What's the mating cry?"

"I, um, really don't know, Sandy."

"'NEXT'."

The blush on her victim's face told the beautician that Victoria understood the 'joke' only too well. She smirked. "You are going to look just sooooo cute as a big-haired carrot-top, kiddo."

"That's not what I asked for! I want nice long hair, but brunette, so that I look right for my skin tones again!"

"Sit still, sissy, or I will tie you to that chair," Sandy hissed. "And you're puny enough for me to do it without even working up a sweat!"

"You wouldn't dare," Victoria snapped angrily.

Sandy went nose to nose with her. "Don't challenge me, girly-boy, or you'll regret it. And I will enjoy every damned minute of your humiliation. Go ahead, sissy, make my day!"

"Jane will be angry. She said I could do as I pleased today."

"Big deal. She needs me more than I need her. And that won't help you if your hair is already orange, or maybe I'll do it up pink. Won't that go nicely with that almond complexion of yours, eh? Now shut up and let me work or the next thing you hear will be me having a very loud panic attack about the little cross-dressing pervert sitting in my chair with a hard-on."

That threat worked, and Victoria did as she was told. The extensions were handled easily enough. "Now, we'll add color and body," Sandy smirked as she worked foul chemicals into her victims hair. "The boys are going to see you coming for miles, girl."

"What will your clients think if you screw up my hair?" Victoria asked, trying to find some way out of this before it was too late.

"Dearie," Sandy told her condescendingly, "With the hairstyles young people want today, you'll probably look cutting edge. Stupid and ugly, but cutting edge. I'll just tell them it's what you asked for. And you won't contradict me, or I'll tell them a few other things that will prove you're weird enough to want flourescent hair. And since I can prove those 'other things' by simply pulling up your skirt and pulling down your panties, I think they'll believe me about you choosing the weird hair color. Don't you?"

"Jane will make you fix it!"

"She can try, sweetie, but it won't happen soon - not for a couple of weeks, at least. These chemicals are pretty harsh. Any sooner than that and your hair will be damaged. Now, get over under that dryer so the chemicals can cure in the heat."

The hour under the dryer while her hair was dried passed in a fog for Jane's student. Only the hope that Jane could do SOME-thing to fix this sustained her.

The dryer snapped off and Victoria looked up to see Carolyn smiling down at her. "Come along, Victoria. Sandy went out for some coffee so I'll comb you out and get you on your way. Lovely color, by the way. Good choice."

"What?!?"

~-----------~

"Lord, Jane, but you should have seen the look on her face when she saw herself in the mirror. I'm sure she was expecting to look like that stupid male comedian who does the phone commercials. Finding herself with a lovely head of shoulder-length sable waves brought her up short. Nearly gave herself whiplash with that double-take."

"Shoulder-length? She changed her mind at the last minute? What happened to sitting on her hair?"

"We didn't have any natural hair extensions that long that were the right shade, so we went with what we had on hand. Looks great on her."

"But she handled the stress, right? Without threatening Sandy?"

"You were the only threat she tried, Jane. She believed you'd come down here and make Sandy do it correctly. Other than that, she tried to point out that messing her up that badly might scare off clients. All in all, she was cowed and frightened, but controlled. Sandy said it was pretty clear she spent the entire time trying to figure out what to do next."

"Well, that's a relief. And tell Sandy thanks for a good job. I needed to know if Victoria could stand up under that kind of stress."

"Sure thing. You know what? In a way, it's too bad the extensions we had on hand weren't bun-length. How about a Lady Godiva production at the children's theater, Jane?" Caro giggled. "Victoria wouldn't need a wig. Should I look into ordering some of the long-long extensions for her?"

"Hell NO! Excuse me. I mean, thank you, dear, but no thank you. I think shoulder length will do very nicely, thank-you-very-much! Now, I have to run. See you next week for Victoria's session with your afternoon makeup class."

~-----------~

Victoria was just putting the finishing touches on her nail enamel when a soft knock sounded at her door. The softness of the summons and the fact that the door did not immediately open told her that the visitor was not Jane, which left only, "Miss Marie? Come in, please."

The little domestic bustled into the room. "You will help me with the dinner tonight, oui?" she asked, looking just a bit harried.

"Sure," the girl replied easily. "Is something the matter?"

"Non. Oui. Oh, I don't know. Jane changed the plan for tonight at the last minute and I am not sure why."

"Oh? What's up or is that something I shouldn't ask and put you on the spot?"

Marie shrugged. "Nothing like that, petite," she said with easy affection. "Jane just told me that we would be dining simply tonight, en famille, and that I was to be at table instead of serving the meal."

"Is that a problem for you?" Victoria asked. "Do you prefer to eat alone?"

"It is a problem, but not that way, silly. Non, the problem is that the meal I have planned is a multi-course affair unsuited to being served by passing dishes about the table. So, you will have to help me prepare something else between now and. . ." she checked her watch, "Six p.m. - which is when Jane says the meal must be served."

"Sounds like another of Ms. Jane's little tests for me," the teen said with a saucy giggle. She checked her nails, finding them dry. She walked to the large armoire and rummaged about it until she came out with a pair of strappy, pink spiked heels.

"A test, cherie?"

"It hasn't escaped my attention that I have been given . . . a number of opportunities to fly solo of late, Miss Marie," Victoria sat back down on her vanity stool and slipped into the extremely tall heels, "Opportunities that have all included rather new challenges, if you take my meaning."

"Challenges, you say? Such as?"

The girl rose, unsteady for only a second and then looked at her bedside clock. "Oh, like being told that you have to prepare a meal, from scratch and without a pre-approved menu, suitable for My Lady Jane Thompson's table in forty two minutes?"

Marie had the grace to blush which made Victoria giggle. "It's okay, Marie. I won't fuss and I won't cheat. Truth to tell, I like cooking with you." The girl then turned so her profile was to the mirror. "Don't you love what these shoes do for my legs?" she asked seriously. "And I really like the way the color matches my new nail lacquer and makeup. Especially now that the grownup stuff has finally worn mostly away."

The Frenchwoman goggled a bit at that. "Uhmm, cherie, you know that even at Jane's table, dining en famille is not quite so formal. Those shoes, well, they are a bit much for such an occasion and you will be on your feet non-stop while you cook. Surely there is something more comfortable that would suit your lovely outfit?"

"Oh, no, Miss Marie, I really like these, and they won't cause me any trouble. Besides, none of the other pairs match my dress so nicely, and I don't have time to re-polish my nails to match any of them. What do you say we make pasta for dinner. With some of the tomatoes we canned last month? And fresh hot garlic bread? Then all we'd need is a salad. Would that be okay?"

~-----------~

"Jane Thompson speaking," Jane said into the receiver of her telephone.

"Jane! How are you? This is Edith White." How the woman could make one syllable words sound snooty had always mystified Jane, but it was one of the traits that made the socially prominent Newport matron useful to her. That, along with her near-sightedness and inability to see beyond what she expected to see.

"Edith," Jane replied warmly. "How are you? And how is your charity drive going?"

"I am very well, thank you," which came out "I am veddy well, thenk yew," when Edith said it. "And our little clothing and food drive for those *poor* wretches in New York is going swimmingly."

*Lord above, swimmingly??!? Don't you DARE giggle, Jane Thompson!* "That's wonderful, Edith. I do hope Victoria has been of some assistance. The poor girl was just devastated by what she saw on the television."

"Oh, that's one of the reasons I called, dear. She has been MARVELOUS - an absolutely tireless tower of strength. She has been on the phone constantly. Why, she's gathered more contributions than any three other volunteers. Very dedicated my dear, very dedicated. Not what one expects of young people in this day and age. Well, except . . . "

"Is there a problem, Edith?"

"It's her voice, Jane. I swear she practically coos into that phone. I listened carefully, and she never actually says anything . . . improper, but the *way* she says it. In *my* day, girls didn't, well, make love over the phone. There, I've said it. That's what she's doing. It's scandalous."

Jane choked back a laugh that just would *not* go away. After a moment, she said, "But effective, right?"

"With the men she calls, certainly," Edith sniffed. "I don't expect she gets much from the women she talks to like that, though in fact . . . well, sometimes she seems to chatter and giggle like a much younger girl, and that seems to work quite well, too." Then the older woman remembered another complaint, "And WHY you permitted that lovely child to color those pretty blonde locks like that, I will NEVER know."

"Sometimes, Edith, you simply have to allow children to grow up, make their own mistakes and suffer any consequences. Well, I'm glad she was so successful in accumulating donations for you, and I'll talk to her about her phone manners." *And I will make MY donation directly to the Red Cross so you and your nose-in-the-air club members won't get the credit for it!* "Well, I do have to run, dear. Thank you for the call. Ciao." and Jane hung up with far more delicacy than she would have preferred. "Bitch!" she snarled and headed for her brandy decanter.

*Thank goodness Victoria is at the Style Shoppe under Brenda Franson's eagle eye. It would not do for a student to see me quite this. . . angry.*

~----------~

"Jane promised me there would be no recurrence of the disgraceful behavior you exhibited the last time you were in my store, young man," Ms. Franson hissed the moment they were alone in the Style Shoppe's elegant fitting room. "THIS time I will not save you. THIS time I will be as appalled as everyone else that a *boy* is parading around my store impersonating a girl. There are laws in this state against peeping toms and voyeurs and I am SURE you'd find the company in central lockup not to your taste. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Victoria said softly, her eyes lowered. "And I am very sorry for the way I acted last time. You have my word that I will be a very good girl this time around."

Brenda momentarily goggled at this new and unexpectedly submissive Victoria Denato, but recovered quickly. "Very well, see that you do. Now, I have laid out a variety of outfits that meet Ms. Thompson's requirements. You are to try them ALL on, and then make your selection. She said that you could pick whatever you liked, but that you must try on everything I have picked out. I assume that you have on *suitable* lingerie, Miss?" The heavy emphasis on the word 'suitable' would have been obvious to even a casual observer, but only Brenda and Victoria understood the older woman's real meaning. She was asking about the dancer's gaff Jane had taken to including in her protegee's ensemble for outings like this.

"Yes, Ms. Franson," the boy-girl replied, "The same as last time."

"Excellent," the shopkeeper said with evident delight. "Ah, and here is Sally to help you with your dressing. Sally, this is Ms. Thompson's latest student, Victoria." The two girls exchanged greetings under Brenda's watchful eyes. "All right, dear, why don't you go undress down to your undies while Sally collects the dresses and accessories for you. Sally? I will be in the shop. Call me for each presentation, please? I promised Ms. Thompson a full report."

"Be right back, Victoria," the shop girl, a pretty strawberry blonde with a figure that showed off The Style Shoppe's wares very nicely indeed, told her. "You just go on in there and get ready, okay?"

Sally's back was turned so she missed what Brenda, looking back into the room from the arched doorway, saw - a look of anxiety bordering on fear on Victoria's perfectly made-up face. With a self-satisfied smile at her decision to include her cute salesgirl in this game, Brenda headed for her phone. Jane wanted regular reports on this outing.

~-----------~

"Wow, between you and me? Those other dresses Ms. Franson picked out made you look like a girl's dress-up doll, but that outfit really looks great on you," Sally bubbled as she studied Victoria with professional interest. The off-the-shoulder, knee-length evening dress was in a spectacular color of red that did marvelous things for Victoria's dark looks. "A bit bolder color for your lip-gloss and a touch brighter rouge and you'll be devastating. And I wish my legs looked half so good as yours do in the split hem. I can see now why you don't wear pantihose, girl. If you've got it, flaunt it."

"Actually, her teacher doesn't approve of such things," Brenda Franson said as she entered. "The total feminine experience is what she preaches and what she insists upon for her students, and they wouldn't have it any other way once they've gotten a taste for it. Isn't that right, Victoria?"

"Yes, Ms. Franson," Victoria said, looking at her reflection in the mirror over shoulder. "I do like the way the hosiery looks with this dress and I don't think high-fashion stockings come in a pantihose, do they?"

"No indeed. I must say that I agree with Sally's assessment of that dress, dear. Wear that to a cotillion and you won't be allowed to sit out a single dance. The boys simply wouldn't stand for it," Brenda assured her 'client' and saw an embarrassed flush color the girl's face. "Sally, go fetch that wrapper off the manikin in the front window, would you? I'd like to see how that looks with this dress."

"Be right back, Brenda," the girl smiled and hurried off on her task.

"Beautiful girl, isn't she?" Brenda asked off-handedly.

"Very," Victoria agreed, far more at-ease than the older woman had expected. "Love her suit, but the color is all wrong for me. You wouldn't have one in a shade more suited to a brunette than to a strawberry blonde, would you, Ms. Franson?" she asked wistfully.

"Uh. . n. .no, I'm sorry, we don't."

"Too bad."

~----------~

"So, there were no problems today?"

"No, Jane," Brenda replied over the phone, "And I was rough with her, just as you asked. I even sprung my prettiest sales girl on her as a 'helper' including in the dressing room. Sally has no idea that it was a boy in there with her. However it came about, the change in Victoria's poise and deportment is amazing. Heavens, I almost forgot what I was dealing with in there. I mean, it was like she. . . I mean he was really a girl."

"So, no qualms about how she handled herself? No concerns about how things would be if Victoria were the big sister shepherding another student about?"

"None that I can see. Although I was surprised to see such a strange combination of clothing picked out."

"Oh, why is that?"

"One of the dresses was really stylish and flattering - downright sexy if you want to know the truth of it. I actually included it so that I could jerk her chain a bit, but I never expected her to select it. A real eye-catcher, and if Victoria didn't realize that fact, my sales girl Sally told her."

"Goodness, I've never had a boy do that before. You're sure she didn't think she HAD to buy something like that?"

"Don't think so, and even if she did think that, she could have chosen one of the more 'middle of the road' gowns' I set out for her, but she left all of those behind."

"I see. Wait, you said that it was the combination that was strange?"

"Well, yes. The other things she picked would have given YOU pause, even on a student's first trip to my shop. Lord, Jane, but the other dresses she picked were spun sugar too sweet to wear outside a Disney movie. Sally called them 'dress-up doll things'. What's going on with her?"

"I'm really not sure, Brenda. I told her to get what appealed to her."

"Well, I have to agree with Sally that the girl went a little overboard with the very formal frou-frou. Lots of white, lots of pastel colors - no primaries. Except for that red number, the rest of it makes her look young, no, that's not it. Prissy is more like it. I sort of figured that she was buying things she thought would please or at least not displease you."

Jane sighed. "I guess I should have expected her to be cautious. Anything else, Brenda?"

"No, Jane, except that you'll get the bill in a couple of days. Three "perfect-priss" dresses, the sexy red evening dress, all with shoes being dyed to match and some few carefully selected accessories for each outfit."

"I can hardly wait. Thanks again, Brenda."

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Tigger. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.