Camellia by Lesley Pearse Page A

went out of their way to share their breaks with. Until now she hadn't so much as smiled at Camellia, much less showed any interest in her.
    'I'll take care of her, Miss Puckridge,' the blonde insisted, helping the supervisor to get Camellia on her feet. I'll take her to the rest room and make her a cup of tea.'
    As Camellia was led away supported by Suzanne, she was still too dazed from fainting to feel embarrassment or indeed to offer any explanation. It was only once the other girl had sat her down in an armchair, put the kettle on and then crouched down in front of her, her small elfin face full of concern, that Camellia realised she'd accidentally broken through the wall of indifference.
    'You aren't pregnant, are you?' Suzanne asked.
    Camellia shook her head. It was such a preposterous suggestion, but even in her shaky disorientated state she knew she must somehow turn her predicament to her advantage.
    Everything about Suzanne made Camellia feel inadequate. She was a mod, and she looked good in her mid-calf tight skirts and Granny shoes: small and slim, with silky blonde hair which hung over one eye like a silk curtain. All day other girls risked Miss Puckridge's displeasure by nipping off from their counters to chat to her. She was only a year or so older than Camellia, but she had all the confidence and poise of a twenty-year-old.
    'I'm certainly not pregnant.' Camellia managed a watery smile. 'Not unless you believe in immaculate conceptions.'
    Suzanne laughed, her pale blue eyes crinkling up in merriment. 'Well, that's a relief,' she said, turning back to the kettle to make the tea. 'That leaves the other theory, that you've been starving yourself. Any truth in that?'
    Camellia looked at Suzanne through her eyelashes as she poured the boiling water into the teapot. Not one bulge of flesh spoiled the line of her tight skirt. She even dared to put a belt round her jumper. Could she possibly understand what it felt like to be fat? 'Not faying to starve, but I have been dieting,' she said lightly.
    'What on earth for?' Suzanne turned round sharply, her false eyelashes fluttering in surprise.
    'Come on!' Camellia smiled. 'You don't have to be polite. I know I'm huge, but I've been trying to do something about it.'
    Suzanne looked puzzled. She took a step or two back, one finger on her little pointed chin, and studied Camellia. 'I thought you were a bit podgy when you first came here,' she said thoughtfully. 'But honestly you aren't now. You can't possibly weigh more than nine stone.'
    Camellia felt a moment of elation. Her clothes had got a bit baggy, but until now she just thought they'd stretched. She wasn't brave enough to weigh herself in a chemist's. 'A doctor weighed me for my medical, back in September,' she insisted. 'I was eleven and a half stone then and he gave me a diet sheet.'
    Suzanne looked triumphant. 'Well the diet obviously worked. Have you weighed yourself recently?'
    'I didn't stick to it.' Camellia dropped her eyes. 'I couldn't. I was working in a bakery you see. I was supposed to go back to him before I left Sussex, but I didn't. I guess I'd had enough of questions after my mum died.'
    Suzanne looked startled. She covered her mouth with her hand, clearly embarrassed. 'I'm so sorry,' she said hastily. 'I didn't know. Was this recently? Is that why you came to London?'
    Camellia had told herself after her initial talk to Miss Peet that she was going to put her mother's death behind her and never speak of it again. Seeing Suzanne's sympathetic reaction, though, she realised that this might have been a mistake. 'It's okay. It was back in August,' she said, hoping she could keep the girl's interest. 'She drowned you see. I'll tell you about it if you like. But maybe I ought to get a sandwich first. I don't want to keel over again.'
    Suzanne put a mug of sweet tea in Camellia's hand, then went to get a sandwich from the canteen. Judging by the speed at which she came back, she had run all the way to the