A Face To Die For Read Free Page A

backgrounds?
    *
    It was around this time that I learned that Katherine Marshall’s portrait had become the outright winner of the Montfort Photographic Award. As a result it went on show for two months in the prestigious Montfort Gallery in Bruton Street, Mayfair.
    I hadn't seen anything of Katherine since college. It was my old student pal, Tony, who told me about it one evening as I waited for my bus outside Ealing Broadway Station. It was late September and I'd been working at Courtneys for about three weeks.
    'Hello Annabel, how're things?'
    I barely recognised him; dressed so smartly in a pukka, grey pinstriped suit. We chatted a while and I went on to tell him how difficult I'd found things in the fashion world. 'They just don't want to know you without experience,' I complained. Then I told him how I'd spent all summer hauling my work folder around London, until finally the House of Courtney had taken me on.
    He grinned. 'Brilliant! So you're on their design team, are you? You were easily the best designer in your year - you deserve to be doing well.' He was clearly pleased for me.
    'No chance, I wish I were.' After explaining my menial job as Edward Hamilton's runabout I asked if he'd been called up for National Service yet.
    ‘Nah,’ he said. ‘I escaped because of slight deafness in one ear; the result of a mastoid infection as a child. So I’m attempting to break into commercial photography. Actually I've been to an interview today with a large advertising agency; hence the suit.'
    I smiled approvingly. 'Very smart, I'm sure you'll be lucky.'
    I meant it too - and anyway he’d already been so complimentary about my work.
    'Hey, talking of luck, did you hear about Katherine er… what’s her name? You know… the girl who modelled for you in the college fashion show?'
    'Katherine Marshall. Yes, I heard about the photo winning the award, but what else?'
    'She’s only been discovered by the one and only Norman Parker Brown, that's all... as a result of that photograph in the Montfort.'
    'Gosh. Really? Lucky devil.’
    Norman Parker Brown was a famous society and fashion photographer; the best according to Tony. Royalty patronised him and his fashion work was in all the major glossy magazines, such as Vogue and Harpers .
    Tony went on. 'Apparently he saw her portrait in the exhibition and asked to meet her. Since then he's doing the complete Svengali works on her. She's being groomed for a top-modelling career and by all accounts seems to be already heading for success in a huge way. Calls herself Kate now…'
    'Well, she did a brilliant job for me, and she is beautiful...'
    Just then my bus arrived and we said hurried goodbyes.
    Oddly, the news about Katherine had quite miffed me. No denying it, the winning photograph was fantastic and of course she'd easily been the star of the college fashion show. Even so, I couldn't help feeling quite jealous of her current good fortune and over-night success. It's not fair, I groaned inwardly; some people have all the luck.
    Then as the bus picked up speed down Ealing Broadway my thoughts turned to consider what a worthwhile contact she could possibly be for me in the fashion business. Particularly with her close involvement with the eminent Parker Brown.
    Always on the look out for the main chance, I began to feel quite perky again, and why not? With Katherine heading for a top modelling career and me aiming towards eventual success as a fashion designer, it would surely only be a matter of time before she and I would meet up again? I had this uncanny premonition there and then, that somehow our two lives would be inter-linked.
    Suddenly my hopes and aspirations took wing as the bus veered left down the High Street towards my parent’s home overlooking Walpole Park.
    *
    Later on, with Christmas on the horizon, Vanessa and her flatmate Fiona invited me to a party at their Eaton Square flat. I was overjoyed to be asked but expressed my concern about having no partner for