Finishing Touches Read Online Free PDF Page A

third-rate excuse for a paper. If she didn’t make him so angry over her treatment of Cassie, David would have found her amusing. She
was pathetic, really, with her airs and graces. Cassie might forgive her for her past behaviour but David knew
he
wouldn’t. Nobody treated Cassie the way that woman had and got away
with it. If she
were
at the launch of Finishing Touches , although he doubted she would be, David would be keeping an eye on her. She knew better than to take him on and he
fully intended to keep things that way. From now on, Cassie Jordan was going to do whatever she wanted with no interference from members of her family. He’d make damn sure of that.

Book I
1969-1978

One
    Oh Mary we crown Thee with blossoms today,
    Queen of the Angels and—
    ‘Girls! Girls!
Girls!
’ Mother Perpetua’s stentorian tones belied the little nun’s frail appearance. The entire class of 3S gave a great
communal sigh.
    Mother Perpetua harangued the thirty girls standing on the steps of the stage in front of her. ‘You’re like limp lettuce-leaves. For goodness sake, girls, put a bit of enthusiasm
into it. I had 2H here an hour ago and they were superb. You’re not going to let a class of second years do better than you, surely!’
    Cassie suppressed a yawn. Today she just wasn’t in the humour for choir practice.
    ‘Catherine Jordan, am I
boring
you?’ the choir-mistress snapped.
    ‘No, Mother,’ Cassie said hastily, not wishing to draw the wrath of Mother Perpetua down on her. Mother Perpetua was one of the most feared nuns in Saint Imelda’s College.
    ‘Well, straighten up, girl, and stop yawning. And that goes for the rest of you, too.’ She waved her baton imperiously. ‘Listen to how I want the second line sung. Queen of the
Ang . . . els . . . Draw it out, please.’
    ‘Queen of the Ang . . . els,’ 3S sang dutifully.
    ‘That’s better!’ approved Mother Perpetua. ‘Once again from the beginning.’
    Not again, thought Cassie wearily. They must have sung the hymn twenty times already and she was heartily sick of it. It was so warm in the concert hall. The noonday sun shone in through the
stained-glass windows, dappling the heads of 3S in a rainbow of pinks and greens and purples. The heat was making them even more lethargic than they would normally be on a Friday. Usually Cassie
loved Fridays. Choir before lunch, after lunch a double cookery class and religion with Sister Eileen, who was their favourite nun. Then they were free for the weekend. Hearing the bell go at
four-fifteen on a Friday was wonderful.
    A trickle of perspiration dampened Cassie’s neck where the collar of her cream cotton blouse was bound by her blue school tie. Opening the top button, Cassie loosened her tie a little.
That was better. It was an awful nuisance having to wear a tie. It must be terrible for men having to wear them all the time. At least she could get rid of hers after school. A bee droned lazily
against one of the windows and the heavy scent of lilac and wallflowers wafted in on the breeze. She was looking forward to her stroll around the nuns’ garden with Laura, her best friend. It
would be so much nicer than being stuck in here with the sun shining on their red faces, watching Mother Perpetua waving her baton around pretending she was Leonard Bernstein or some other great
conductor.
    Laura had looked terribly worried that morning and had been late for school, which was most unlike her. Cassie knew something was up. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, as discreetly
as she could. ‘You’ve a face as long as a fiddle.’
    As Laura took her place beside her friend during French, she whispered, ‘Something’s happened. I’ll tell you at lunchtime. I don’t want the rest of them to know.’
Poor Laura, she thought; she was always having hassle at home. Where Cassie was the eldest in her family, Laura was the youngest in hers. Both positions brought their own problems. Ah well, she
would hear all about