It Was Only Ever You Read Online Free PDF

and long limbs. She was slim, but not curvaceous. Ava had long since decided that she was not going to apologize for her size. She did not want to make herself invisible and shrink into the corners of the dance hall to become a wallflower. She had lots of friends, and people liked her – men liked her too, just not in a romantic way. At least, not the ones she liked. Ava’s favourite film star was Doris Day and since she was a young girl she had tried to emulate the star’s feisty, independent manner. Doris had shown her that a girl didn’t have to be sultry like Lauren Bacall, seductive like Marilyn Monroe, or romantic like Grace Kelly. She could be tomboyish and plucky and full of fun. But she still had to be pretty if she wanted a man. If she wasn’t pretty, a girl didn’t stand a hope in hell of finding love. Ava knew, from seeing how happy her parents were, that without love, life was nothing.
    *
    The lavishly decorated suite was on the tenth floor of the Plaza Hotel. It had panelled walls and heavy silk drapes at the windows that were closed to preserve the client’s modesty. Light was provided by occasional lamps with large yellow shades that threw off a warm, flattering light. Twice a year, Sybil Connolly would take a suite here and New York’s wealthiest and most discerning fashion lovers would make appointments to be fitted with her elegant, classical designs. Ava left her clothes in a pile on the thick, navy carpet and came out from behind the ornate Chinese screen in her undergarments. Her long pale limbs were shivering, less from the cold than from the shame of being almost naked in front of a complete stranger.
    Sybil’s assistant pulled out a magnificent evening gown for her to try on. It was made of Connolly’s trademark pleated linen, in a shade of soft, dove grey. Her mother had wanted her to have this dress since reading about it in Harper’s Bazaar . The handcrafted effect was produced by closely pleating up to nine yards of handkerchief linen to produce one yard of delicate fabric. It could be packed away in a bag then shaken out and emerge as good as new. Harper’s had declared Sybil’s evening dresses both ‘modern’ and ‘practical’.
    ‘Just like you,’ Nessa had said, hopeful that the cutting would light a fire under her daughter’s lack of interest in how she dressed. Ava had agreed to give it a try and Nessa remained optimistic that this expensive dress would turn her daughter into a princess.
    ‘There now,’ Sybil’s assistant said, holding open the huge, pleated skirt. ‘Step into this, like a good girl.’
    Ava loved the way the Irish talked. As if they had known you all their lives. At least half the people at their church were ‘full Irish’ not just born to Irish parents, like she was. The assistant talked in a kindly, matronly way, although she couldn’t have been much older than Ava.
    Ava stood in front of the full-length mirror as the assistant pulled the bodice up over her slim hips and narrow chest. The grey dress had a skirt, which spread out in a soft triangle from the waist. The bodice crossed over her bust and the fabric felt as soft and sublime as a cloud. It was, truly, a magnificent gown. However, it looked the same on her as all the magnificent dresses her mother had been making her try on since she was a little girl. Just ordinary. She glanced across at her mother and saw the shadow of disappointment flicker across Nessa’s face before she plastered on her usual hopeful smile.
    The dress was beautiful, but her daughter Ava was not. Another expensive mistake, she thought. The more elaborate the dress, the plainer her daughter seemed to render it. Ava was plain, and as each year passed, getting plainer. In the year since she had been home from finishing school she went about the house in slacks and her father’s weekend sweaters, only putting on a skirt and blouse when her mother forced her into them. Nessa didn’t want to destroy her confidence but if