“It’s a shame we didn’t have the opportunity to put your hair in pin curls.” Peggy tsk-tsked. “But I’ll see what I can do.”
The next hour consisted of Ava’s tresses being brushed and tugged, her face being powdered, prodded, and painted until Peggy stepped back with a smile and a proud nod.
“This really wasn’t necessary,” Ava objected, feeling rather silly.
“Trust me, you’ll be glad once you’re in Estoril. Everyone there is filthy rich, and the rules are much stricter.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was nearly arrested once for wearing a two-piece bathing suit.” Peggy rolled her eyes. “It was when I first arrived and had no idea policemen would be crawling all over the beach with their little rulers.”
“Rulers?” The thought of policemen patrolling the beach to measure swimwear was far too ridiculous.
“Here’s the kicker—I bought the suit at one of the shops in Estoril.” Peggy threw her hands up in exasperation. “I had to practically threaten bodily harm for them to take it back.”
“I think it’s a good thing I don’t have to worry about bathing suits.”
Peggy chuffed a laugh. “You’ve got that right.” She picked up a handheld mirror. “What do you think?”
The woman reflected back at Ava was elegant, older in a more sophisticated way. Her dark hair was gently rolled back from her face, her lashes darkened slightly but not to the point of being obvious, her skin smoothed by powder. In truth, she looked just like her mother.
Ava had been worried Peggy might try to turn her into something she wasn’t, but instead Peggy had made her into the very person Ava had always secretly wished she could be.
“Oh, Peggy,” she breathed. “Thank you.”
Her friend beamed at her. “Now wait till you see the dress.” She spun around so fast to retrieve the garment that her pink skirt belled out around her knees.
She was only gone for a brief moment before her footsteps echoed back down the unseen hallway. “I have to attend all sorts of events with the ambassador, so I have an extensive wardrobe. I’m glad to share some of these.” Peggy emerged with a jewel green gown. “They’re far too beautiful to leave hanging in a closet.”
Ava pressed her lips together, careful not to muss the Victory red sheen on her mouth. “Is that silk?”
Peggy waved her hand dismissively. “It was bought before the war. As soon as you asked, I knew this was the dress for you with your dark hair and green eyes.” She shifted the gown from her arms, and the length of it slid to the floor like shimmering liquid. It was beautiful, with a sash that tied in a bow at the cinched-in waist, the skirt loose and free-flowing. And it was strapless.
“I know,” Peggy said when Ava’s eyes caught the top of the dress. “Just put it on.” She thrust it toward Ava and pointed down the hall.
Ava took the gown to Peggy’s neat bedroom, as resplendent in jewel tones as the living area, and slipped the garment on. The fabric was cool as it glided over her skin, a sensation she hadn’t expected to experience until after the war.
“It was bought before Japan joined the Axis,” Ava reminded herself, smoothing her hand down the front as she turned to the full-length mirror. The cut was beautiful and fit her like it had been made for her, bare shoulders and all.
Peggy squealed from the doorway. “I knew it would be perfect. Here.” She handed her a pair of long white gloves. “You can show off any skin you want so long as you have gloves.”
Ava pulled them on, and Peggy gave a low whistle. “You are dazzling.”
“Because of your exceptional skills and this gorgeous dress.”