I had never been summoned to Number 208 before; I nervously adjusted my coat and hat.
With a sidelong glance I took in the menagerie at the door. Better women than I had left this place scarred, mere shadows of their former selves.
The churning in my stomach stepped up a notch. I’d been suffering acute heartburn since receiving the summons this morning.
I raised my hand to knock and the door swung open letting loose a cloud of potpourri-scented air. I struggled not to choke and walked into the fragrant interior.
“Do have a seat,” came the dulcet tones.
I looked around the pristine room. Dust would would be too terrified to settle in here. Perching on the inch of seat not occupied by an over-stuffed floral scatter cushion, I waited.
“Darling. Let’s chat about what you can do for the PTA.”
Photograph: (c) Lorraine