Acquired Tastes Read Free Page A

predicted that she would be the first to wear a bra.
    But for once, her confidence was unfounded.
    No matter how much she thrust out her chest, or how many times she swung her arms backwards and forwards, silently chanting 'I must, I must improve my bust' in the privacy of her cubicle at night, the rosebud-trimmed cups of Vanessa's Modern Miss bra remained resolutely unfilled.
    Meanwhile, in her cubicle next door, Alicia sat hugging herself in silent misery as her breasts not so much budded as sprouted alarmingly. Whilst mindful that some female saints who had prayed to be relieved of their femininity so as to avoid unwelcome suitors had woken up to find themselves with luxuriant beards, she, too, prayed for a miracle. But even attending early morning mass on twenty-seven successive days failed to have any effect on the pronounced and unwelcome change in her anatomy.
    Up until their unwanted appearance, Alicia had happily managed to survive largely unnoticed. While consistently in the top three students in her year, she had never sought popularity or friendship other than with Vanessa.
    Vanessa had lots of other friends but Alicia never felt jealous. In fact, she was rather proud that she had a friend who was so popular and when Vanessa needed help with schoolwork, Alicia was only too happy to help. She felt that in some way it repaid Vanessa for being her friend and she had much to be thankful for - helping Vanessa had made her consider teaching as a vocation, something she might not have otherwise considered.
    But while Alicia felt no jealousy of Vanessa, Vanessa’s jealousy of Alicia's growing breasts almost brought an end to their friendship. Vanessa considered them a personal affront, as did their housemistress, Sister Mary, who considered them unbecoming in a young lady in her charge.
    Unfortunately, Sister Mary's disapproval had no more effect on the size of the offending breasts than Alicia's prayers, and so it was that one Sunday morning after mass, an embarrassed Alicia found herself standing in front of the thin-lipped triumvirate of Reverend Mother, Sister Mary and Sister Gertrude. They gazed sternly at the buttons on the front of her blouse, which steadfastly refused to stay done up. Tears of shame pricked Alicia's eyes and she had clenched her fists and willed herself not to cry.
    Reverend Mother had peered over the top of her half moon glasses. 'Perhaps we ought to leave it in the hands of her mother, a letter …?' Her tone was patient although tinged with asperity.
    She liked to keep Sunday morning audiences for matters of a moral or a spiritual nature, it seemed only right and fitting. Alicia Binn's breasts were of a distinctly temporal nature and well within the province of a housemistress to resolve.
    Sister Mary's nostrils flared, 'Her mother is in Singapore.' She enunciated the words like an accusation of a dereliction of duty.
    Reverend Mother let out a little 'Ah' and sat down behind her desk. She fingered the crucifix around her neck for a few moments and then looked up at Sister Gertrude, whose chief duty was the supervision of habits for the nuns and school uniforms for the girls.
    'I think we should pray for guidance,' suggested Sister Gertrude brightly.
    Sister Mary gave the older nun a look that was less than charitable, but joined Reverend Mother in lowering her head.
    Alicia screwed up her eyes and clasped her hands tightly together. Perhaps praying in the presence of three holy women might help as her own prayers had not worked so far. She had even added a rosary to her already lengthy nightly prayers, and had taken to saying them kneeling, bare-kneed on the hard and splinter-ridden dormitory floor, rather than lying in bed, offering up her discomfort as a sacrifice to God if he would only grant her wish to be flat-chested again.
    With a loud, 'Amen', Sister Gertrude finished. 'I always find a little prayer to St Jude, patron saint of hopeless causes, helps,' she beamed.
    Sister Mary gestured