It was a bizarre set up. Seated at a table that stood by a bay window in the lounge were our “guests” for tea; two elegantly dressed, shop-window dummies. “You are all far too inexperienced to practice on any of us,” Miss Carson announced, seeing our looks of disbelief at being expected to wait on mannequins. “When you can do things properly for Amanda and Sally here, you MAY be allowed to try serving Miss Matilda or her guests.”First of all we had to lay up a table for afternoon tea. Miss Carson stood by explaining how the table cloth needed to be spread just so, completely wrinkle free and hanging down equally on either side. Then the mats and cutlery had to be positioned exactly, not forgetting of course a mat for the tea pot, hot water jug, milk and sugar. All that was relatively normal, I suppose, if irritatingly exact in how Miss Carson wanted it done. The blank stare bestowed on us by the mannequins as we worked made the whole scene feel very peculiar, though.The strangeness. It was dusky down there, only candle light and she'd lit incense. And a mighty fine scent she'd chosen. Flack's "Killing Me Softly" softly played and sounded very nice. I wanted so bad to exit out that patio door; chain smoke Black Watch, drink one cup of decaf after another and imagine what those two were doing in their bedroom. That'd a been just fine by me. I was all for imagining. Watching, seeing was a whole different proposition. I pressed up flat against the kitchen side of that dividing wall."Give me a ten count and we'll go." It took me three ten counts before I was able to actually break root. How I got there I'll never know.Tommy was holding her. Girl in a full length white cotton jumper---Tommy in white briefs.---------"Boy, come here." I wanted so bad to continue on past that bed and drop anchor in the cloth chair that had been in that corner off the far foot of the bed since we'd set it there on move in day. Had never even sat in it. Next to it was a small table where.
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