bring out a series of cold hors d’oeuvres. The girls commented on their champagne.
‘I don’t like this stuff,’ said Diane. ‘Can I have some orangeade?’
21
Queen of Flowers - Pages 16/3/04 4:38 PM Page 22
QUEEN OF THE FLOWERS
‘I am getting used to it,’ said Marie. ‘I like the sort of lemony taste.’
‘I love the way the bubbles tickle,’ giggled Joannie.
‘I’ll have yours, if you don’t want it,’ said Rose.
Phryne allowed them free range amongst the little savouries which Anatole’s made so well. Anchovies with red peppers.
Little barquettes with various fillings—egg, salmon mousse, chicken, foie gras and ham. Phryne selected the plate of vegetable hearts with Madame’s mayonnaise, always an alchemi-cal marvel.
‘These are really little eggs,’ said Diane, eating three. ‘Must come from really titchy hens.’
‘Plovers,’ explained Phryne. ‘You might like a barquette, this one’s egg.’
‘And these are really salty grapes!’ objected Marie.
‘Olives,’ explained Phryne. ‘Another acquired taste. Just spit it into your napkin.’
‘This is nice of you, Miss Fisher,’ said Joannie, embarrassed by her gauche friends. ‘To take us out to lunch like this at Anatole’s. I mean, you didn’t have to do it. You just have to tell us where to sit and what to do and we’ll obey. It’s a tremen-dous honour to meet you, my mother says.’
‘I like to know who I’m sharing a float with,’ said Phryne, awarding Joannie a mark for savoir-faire. ‘And it should be fun.
Do you like your dress, Joan?’
‘I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,’ said Joannie. ‘I never thought that scary old lady would make anything fit for me to wear. She glared at me the whole time she was pinning me into it. I mean, I know I’m the wrong shape for 1928.’
‘You would have been perfect for 1890,’ Marie consoled her. ‘And I would have looked like a toothpick.’
‘Yes, but we’re in 1928 and looking like a toothpick is 22
Queen of Flowers - Pages 16/3/04 4:38 PM Page 23
KERRY GREENWOOD
all the rage,’ said Joannie sadly. ‘But the sweet pea dress—
I’ve never looked so good in anything. And Marie looks good in it too.’
‘Madame Fleuri is a genius,’ Phryne pointed out. ‘What about you, Diane?’
‘It’s a lovely dress,’ said Diane, munching an anchovy.
‘I thought it was going to be like it was when my sister got married. All bridesmaids have to look like a lump of wet lettuce, you know, in case the bride gets cross. You remember my wet lettuce dress, Rose?’
‘Not going to make any new husband look away from the blushing bride,’ agreed Rose. ‘I thought it was more like spinach, actually. Old spinach. At least green suits you. My mother adores white on girls, so I have to wear white, and white does not suit me.’
This was true. As Jean-Paul removed the empty plates and brought small cups of chilled bouillon, Phryne wondered what would look good on the blooming young women. Rose had almost red hair, pale blue eyes and blotchy, irritable skin.
Severely plain box-cut linen confined her curves but did not conceal them. She seemed about to burst out of her seams, which was disconcertingly erotic and surely not what her mother had intended. White was definitely not Rose’s colour.
She needed, perhaps, to wear dark shades, perhaps even wine red or dark blue, which would leach some of the redness from her skin and hair and show up those surprising Scandinavian eyes. A good dusting of pearl powder and a sedative and she might be quite presentable.
Phryne suggested darker colours and Rose shrugged.
‘That’s what Madame Fleuri said, but I can’t do anything about it. No one listens to me. Girls wore white in Grandpapa’s time and in Mamma’s time too, so I’ve got to wear it.
23
Queen of Flowers - Pages 16/3/04 4:38 PM Page 24
QUEEN OF THE FLOWERS
Even if I never find a husband and have to wear white forever.’
‘There are worse
‘I don’t like this stuff,’ said Diane. ‘Can I have some orangeade?’
21
Queen of Flowers - Pages 16/3/04 4:38 PM Page 22
QUEEN OF THE FLOWERS
‘I am getting used to it,’ said Marie. ‘I like the sort of lemony taste.’
‘I love the way the bubbles tickle,’ giggled Joannie.
‘I’ll have yours, if you don’t want it,’ said Rose.
Phryne allowed them free range amongst the little savouries which Anatole’s made so well. Anchovies with red peppers.
Little barquettes with various fillings—egg, salmon mousse, chicken, foie gras and ham. Phryne selected the plate of vegetable hearts with Madame’s mayonnaise, always an alchemi-cal marvel.
‘These are really little eggs,’ said Diane, eating three. ‘Must come from really titchy hens.’
‘Plovers,’ explained Phryne. ‘You might like a barquette, this one’s egg.’
‘And these are really salty grapes!’ objected Marie.
‘Olives,’ explained Phryne. ‘Another acquired taste. Just spit it into your napkin.’
‘This is nice of you, Miss Fisher,’ said Joannie, embarrassed by her gauche friends. ‘To take us out to lunch like this at Anatole’s. I mean, you didn’t have to do it. You just have to tell us where to sit and what to do and we’ll obey. It’s a tremen-dous honour to meet you, my mother says.’
‘I like to know who I’m sharing a float with,’ said Phryne, awarding Joannie a mark for savoir-faire. ‘And it should be fun.
Do you like your dress, Joan?’
‘I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,’ said Joannie. ‘I never thought that scary old lady would make anything fit for me to wear. She glared at me the whole time she was pinning me into it. I mean, I know I’m the wrong shape for 1928.’
‘You would have been perfect for 1890,’ Marie consoled her. ‘And I would have looked like a toothpick.’
‘Yes, but we’re in 1928 and looking like a toothpick is 22
Queen of Flowers - Pages 16/3/04 4:38 PM Page 23
KERRY GREENWOOD
all the rage,’ said Joannie sadly. ‘But the sweet pea dress—
I’ve never looked so good in anything. And Marie looks good in it too.’
‘Madame Fleuri is a genius,’ Phryne pointed out. ‘What about you, Diane?’
‘It’s a lovely dress,’ said Diane, munching an anchovy.
‘I thought it was going to be like it was when my sister got married. All bridesmaids have to look like a lump of wet lettuce, you know, in case the bride gets cross. You remember my wet lettuce dress, Rose?’
‘Not going to make any new husband look away from the blushing bride,’ agreed Rose. ‘I thought it was more like spinach, actually. Old spinach. At least green suits you. My mother adores white on girls, so I have to wear white, and white does not suit me.’
This was true. As Jean-Paul removed the empty plates and brought small cups of chilled bouillon, Phryne wondered what would look good on the blooming young women. Rose had almost red hair, pale blue eyes and blotchy, irritable skin.
Severely plain box-cut linen confined her curves but did not conceal them. She seemed about to burst out of her seams, which was disconcertingly erotic and surely not what her mother had intended. White was definitely not Rose’s colour.
She needed, perhaps, to wear dark shades, perhaps even wine red or dark blue, which would leach some of the redness from her skin and hair and show up those surprising Scandinavian eyes. A good dusting of pearl powder and a sedative and she might be quite presentable.
Phryne suggested darker colours and Rose shrugged.
‘That’s what Madame Fleuri said, but I can’t do anything about it. No one listens to me. Girls wore white in Grandpapa’s time and in Mamma’s time too, so I’ve got to wear it.
23
Queen of Flowers - Pages 16/3/04 4:38 PM Page 24
QUEEN OF THE FLOWERS
Even if I never find a husband and have to wear white forever.’
‘There are worse
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