Chrysalis Turns to Butterfly

"It feels as if I have nothing on my feet!"

"That's the whole idea. Show a man your naked feet and he will immediately start thinking of the rest of you in the same state. Men are really quite simple you know." They both laughed. "Poor things." Sylvie continued. "Nature has programmed them to react to signs they don't understand. At the same time Nature has given women the understanding of the codes, so we have an advantage over them."

"Don't you like men?" Marion asked.

"I love 'em." Sylvie replied emphatically. "Women are at their best after they have had a good session with at least four good orgasms. Men are needed for that...Well most of the time."

"Four?" Marion asked with astonishment written all over her face. Sylvie nodded.

"Yeah. You've got to train them a little, but once they have been taught they're quite capable." Marion was astounded at this young lady's attitude, quite the opposite of how she was brought up.

"My husband would be appalled to think that women could exert that much influence."

"Is he a lot older than you, then?"

"No. He's four years older than me. He's forty."

"You're thirty six? I wouldn't have put you past thirty." Marion laughed.

"You need spectacles."

"No I don't. You dress and make up as if you were older, but underneath that you are a lovely woman. A younger woman as well. Why do you do that?"

"I was brought up to dress conservatively, and that is the way my husband seems to want me."

Sylvie was thinking about Marion's reply and walked around the room, her arms folded with one forearm raised so that her finger tapped her cheek.

"Marion. You may be here for some time; do you have anything else you planned for today?"

"No. I thought to just wander around, window shopping." Sylvie came to a decision.

"Let me give you a make-over. I have been properly trained and I can show you my certificates if you wish. A facial first, then a complete make-up. I want to show you how you could look. What do you say?"

"I think the day I planned has changed so much, so why not? It could be fun, only I shall have to redo my make up before I go home. I doubt that Charles would notice, but just on the off-chance it would mean I don't have to explain things to him." Marion would realise much later that keeping a secret from her husband was the first step on the road to infidelity.

CHAPTER TWO

Marion lay back in the clinic chair, her head supported by the back-rest with a band around her head keeping her hair out of the way. Sylvie had cleansed Marion's face with an astringent lotion and was gently massaging moisturiser into her skin.

"You have really good bone structure." She told Marion who smiled.

"Thank you. I have to thank my mother for that."

"You're lucky. My mother died when I was two years old, so I really never knew her."

"My mother is still alive," replied Marion, "but I rarely see her. Even when growing up I didn't see her that often."

"Why was that?"

"She was a very busy lady. Lots of committee meetings and functions to attend, taking tea with other ladies in the same circles and then more functions with my father. I saw her fleetingly as she swept out of the house in glamorous evening or Cocktail dresses. She would stay in bed until noon, so I wouldn't see her until the evening the next day as she swept out of the house again in another glamorous evening dress, I don't think I ever saw her in ordinary clothes. Then when I was sixteen I was sent away to Finishing School."

"Not one of those terrible places in Switzerland?"

"No. It was in Esher. It was only ten miles from home but Mummy insisted I boarded. They taught me how to address any of the nobility, how to curtsey, how to walk properly, the right way for a lady to get into and out of a car and lots of other things even down to the right way to chastise the House Parlour Maid." Marion was laughing as she told Sylvie this. "As if anyone has a House Parlour Maid these days!" Sylvie was giggling as well.

"So how did you meet your husband?"

"My parents invited him for Dinner one evening; this was after I had been finished. I was dressed up for the occasion and Mummy introduced me to Charles. I was under no illusions that they had decided that I should marry him. He needed a wife who was 'right' and Mummy and Daddy thought it a good match."

"What does he do?"

"He's a Civil Servant. A sort of Mandarin in waiting. He's got the right qualifications, Harrow, Oxford. One of those marked out for higher things." Marion told her dryly.

"Oh! A Knighthood in the pocket and a gold-plated pension?"

"That's it. And I shall be Lady Urquhart one day."

"You don't sound too enthusiastic about that."

"It's the prize for putting up with an unadventurous life."

Sylvie was preparing for the make-up. She showed Marion various colours of lipstick, who predictably wanted a pale rose, the colour she normally wore. Sylvie disagreed.

"No, I think this deeper red would do well. It's more dramatic and invites a kiss." Marion was about to argue when Sylvie interrupted. "Trust me on this."

"Oh alright." Marion subsided. The base was smoothed in, then blusher for the cheeks fading it down from the cheekbones. Sylvie then applied Mascara and brushed Marion's lashes with a curved brush darkening them as she did so. Finally the lips. She outlined them first, creating a fuller profile then painted in with the deep red lipstick. Finally she glossed them. She turned the chair away from the mirror and took off the band allowing Marion to fluff out her hair.

"Right." She announced. "Are you ready for this?" Marion nodded.

Sylvie turned the chair back. There was silence as Marion stared at her reflection. Staring back was the face from a glossy fashion magazine.

"That's not me." She spluttered. Sylvie agreed.

"No, it's not you. I think that person is... Marianne, yes Marianne. A beautiful lady of a certain age. Confident in herself, willing to take on the world and to take pleasure when she chooses as she chooses." Marion looked askance at her new friend.

"Are you sure about that? I doubt that I could take on the world." Sylvie leaned in and encouraged her.

"It's the confidence you need." She stood up. "Shall we go for some lunch?"

"That would be nice. Where?"

"There's a little Bistro just round the corner. They have a nice menu." She took a step back and surveyed Marion. "Hmm. I think we need to find you a pretty frock. That skirt, blouse and jacket are very Marion but not quite Marianne. Come with me."

Marion's clothes were of the best quality and could be described as timeless insomuch that they wouldn't be out of place in the nineteen-thirties, or forties, or even the fifties. Without waiting for an answer Sylvie strode off towards the front of the premises. Marion followed at a run, protesting as she did so that she didn't need a new frock. She arrived in the showroom to see Sylvie holding a very pretty frock. If it wasn't actually made of Silk it looked very close.

"This is a ten; you look about a ten in size. Try it on."

"Sylvie, I can't."

"Don't be silly. It's not as if you have to buy it." She carried it through to the changing room followed by Marion. "Come on. Slip out of those things." Marion took off her jacket and slowly started to unbutton her blouse expecting Sylvie to leave. Sylvie didn't. Shrugging her shoulders Marion took off her blouse and skirt, suddenly ashamed of her utilitarian underwear and pantyhose. Sylvie held out the dress and Marion stepped into it. She looked into the floor length mirror and turned this way and that. It was without doubt a very nice frock; it had a camouflage type of pattern in black, cream and orange. The material clung lovingly to her body.

She turned to Sylvie, who had a worried look.

"It's lovely."

"Yes." replied Sylvie. "But we're not quite there." She thought for a moment then her face lightened. "The bra! The bra's got to go." Now Marion was really worried.

"I can't go without a bra."

"No. Marion wouldn't, but Marianne would. Come on just slip the top down and we'll get rid of it." The top of the dress was unzipped before Marion could protest, the fabric slipped down and Sylvie unclasped the catch of the bra. Marion held the cups in place as she tried to find the words to argue. Sylvie gave her no option, she gently but firmly pried Marion's hands away and the bra followed. Marion's blushes did not show through her newly made up face. "Nice!" Said Sylvie. "Very pretty." She pulled the dress back into place and zipped it. The strange sensation of her breasts unfettered against the soft material brought another blush to her face as her nipples reacted to the teasing of the silk. Blood flowed in and they burgeoned.

Sylvie examined her protege again critically.

"Oh! That's better." Sylvie decided, satisfied that the dress was now right. "Finishing touch. I'll get you those sandals." Marion was beyond argument now and slipped the sandals on her feet. Sylvie stepped back and examined her critically, and then she smiled. "Done! That's the puller look if ever I saw one."

"Puller?" Queried Marion.

"Yes. The men will come flocking to you dressed like that."

"Sylvie. Do you think of everything in terms of men?"

"Of course. Why else do we dress the way we do? You'll see. We won't have to get our purses out for anything when we get to Ugo's."

As they walked the short distance to the Bistro called Ugo's the light breeze licked at her dress, wrapping the silky fabric around her legs one moment then lifting the hem to display her legs. They turned the corner and now the breeze came at them head on, flattening the fabric against her breasts. At first Marion hunched forward to hide her still prominent nipples, this posture had a tendency to unbalance her due to the high heels of her sandals so she threw caution to the wind, literally, and walked proudly with her head high. Sylvie had watched this conflict with amusement, now she congratulated her pupil.

"Atta girl!"

Ugo's was a very up-market place with prices to match. Even so it was well patronised. Hugo, the proprietor welcomed them effusively and conducted them to a table with a reserved plaque which he whisked away immediately.

"Sylvie. It's so good to see you, and who is your lovely companion?"

"Hugo, this is Marianne,"

"Welcome to Ugo's, Marianne. Beautiful ladies are always welcome here. Allow me to get you a drink and I'll bring the menu. Will a Chardonnay or Chablis suit you?" Before Marion could say anything Sylvie accepted for them both. "The Chablis please, Hugo." When they were alone Marion asked Sylvie.

"Do you reserve a table every day?"

"Oh no. Hugo always puts a reserved sign on at least one table, so that when a pretty girl comes in he can seat them straightaway. As you can see the table is situated so that it can be seen from the entrance. He puts us here and it brings in the men. We get free drinks and the men put their hands in their pockets and not just for their cash." Marion burst out laughing.

"I'm getting to know you, Sylvie and understand what that meant." Sylvie was grinning.

"Good. Now this will be interesting."

Two well dressed men were approaching.

"Most of the tables seem to be taken," the first one said. "Do you think we could share your table?" Sylvie smiled sweetly at them.

"I am so sorry. Our escort will be joining us soon. Perhaps another time?"

"Escort? In the singular? One man for two gorgeous ladies. Now that's not fair." The second man rejoined. Sylvie shrugged her shoulders.

"He looks after us very well." The men looked shocked then smiled. Sylvie's comment was ambiguous and Marion becoming used to Sylvie's banter suddenly understood the implied second meaning. She giggled. The two guys wandered away just as Hugo returned with their drinks. He was well aware that the two men had angled to sit with his two lovely customers.

"Guy is joining you?"

"I expect so." Hugo nodded.

"I'll leave you alone and take your order when he arrives. If you want any more wine, just give me the nod." When he had gone Sylvie spoke in a low voice to Marion.

"If we ask for more wine, those two will pay for them as long as we are alone." She indicated with a slant of her head the two men who had asked to join them. They were now standing at the bar chatting together, but keeping a careful eye on Marion and Sylvie.

"Sylvie. Do you play this game all the time?" Marion was curious. Her friend laughed and shook her head.

"Not all the time. I'm not a PT."

"There you go again. What's a PT?"

"Marianne, your upbringing must have been very sheltered. A PT is a prick teaser. A girl who suggests she will when she won't."

"And you do?"

"If he's really nice and I fancy him. I do. I enjoy a good romp between the sheets and on top of them if we're in a hurry. Oh, here's Guy."

Guy made his way over to them and sat down. Threading his way between tables and customers needed care so he hadn't really taken in Marion until he sat down. His eyes widened in shock and admiration. Sylvie made the introduction.

"Guy. This is the lady you ran over this morning. Her name was Marion, but now she's Marianne." Guy recovered his wits. He lifted Marianne's hand and gently kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed her wrist.

"Marianne is a lovely name for a more than lovely woman. If I can meet a vision like you every time I crash my case my embarrassment will be a small price to pay. I am very pleased to meet you."

"After a speech like that, Guy. I feel I should forgive you everything." Marion felt pleased that she could reply with ease; she felt a little tingle that this rather good-looking young man thought she was a lovely woman.

CHAPTER THREE

Hugo came over shortly after Guy had arrived and took their order. Telling Guy that he had lost him two customers. Guy was perplexed but Sylvie put him in the picture. She had seen the two men leave as soon as Guy sat down. He turned to Marion.

"The repairer says he can make the repair, but warned me that it will not last long as the only thing he can do is glue it. Therefore I owe you a pair of shoes." Marion smiled and put her hand on his arm.

"Don't worry about it, Guy. A day supposedly for window shopping has turned into an adventure. As you were the catalyst that started the adventure I should be thanking you."

"I must insist, Marianne." He used her pseudonym. "Adventure or not I was clumsy and the reparation has to be mine." Sylvie had followed this conversation and saw that Guy was astounded by the change in Marion and he was interested in her. She also saw the warmth in Marion's eyes as she talked with Guy.

"Well, Guy. If Marion will not let you pay for her new shoes, how about you take Marianne to Dinner one evening?"

"What a great idea." Exclaimed Guy. "Perfect. What do you say, Marianne?"

Marion was silent. Marianne was tempted, but Marion's conscience reminded her that she was a married woman and it wouldn't be right. Then Marianne told her that Charles was away in Brussels next week and Guy would be a considerate escort without being pushy. She tried to resolve the conflict and her immediate reply was non-committal.

"I shall have to think about that." Sylvie smiled inwardly to herself. She was very sure that Marion would accept the invitation. She had said enough in their conversation earlier for Sylvie to guess that Marion's life was comfortable but mundane. As Marianne she could enjoy a little harmless flirtation.

The sandwiches they ordered now arrived and another glass of Chablis. Aware that she would have to drive at some time later this afternoon, Marion drank sparingly of the wine and enjoyed the Mozzarella and tomato sandwich. It enhanced her enjoyment of her two companions who loved each other, yet were disparaging of each other in equal proportions. She never had a brother or a sister so missed out on that love/hate relationship that was sibling rivalry. Sylvie and Guy had something a little better than merely siblings. They had no blood tie, had grown up together and viewed the other as simply a friend, although Marion caught hints that their friendship went a little further. They involved Marion in their conversation. They talked about their backgrounds and they teased out of Marion more of her history. They spoke candidly of theirs as well. Their background was military. Guy's father had been killed in the Falkland conflict. Sylvie's father had been there as well and it appeared that her father owed Guys' family a debt of honour. Becoming a widower and knowing Guy's mother well, after a decent time had elapsed he paid court to her and she became his wife, thereby bringing the two bereaved families together. Guy was treated as his son in all ways.

They enjoyed the hospitality of Hugo for most of the afternoon. Marion had not considered the time at all as she was quite happy to sit and chat with her new friends. However she was horrified when she glanced casually at her watch. It was half past three!

"I am so sorry, but I shall have to leave." Sylvie understood, picked up her purse and stood up.

"Come on, we will change you back to Marion so you don't give your husband a heart attack." Marion took a deep breath and turned to Guy.

"Thank you for your invitation to dinner. I would like that. It will have to be next week though."

"I am delighted, Marianne. I suspect that you will be uncomfortable if I phone you, so if you call Sylvie she will pass the message on to me. Just name the evening, and I shall be your humble servant." Marion smiled. He had made her smile quite a lot this afternoon.

Guy escorted them to the Boutique then left them. With her make-up returned to its usual appearance and dressed in her normal clothes, Marion watched wistfully as Sylvie hung up the dress.

"Will you pack that dress, Sylvie? I'll take it with me. I will need to get something for this dinner Guy has promised me. I am sure you will have something suitable and I need to settle with you, for the shoes and the dress." Sylvie smiled; she was expecting something like this.

"Leave the dress with me; I'll get it pressed. Don't worry about settling just yet, we can sort that out later when you aren't in a rush. Oh! And in the meantime I'll look for something for your date."

"It's not a date. It's just Guy buying me dinner as an apology."

"Is that so?" Sylvie enquired. "It seems to me more about two friends having an intimate evening."

"Rubbish." Cried Marion. "It's making amends. That's all."

"Of course." Her friend told her smiling as if there was a private joke. "Guy will be the perfect gentleman." She paused. "If you want him to be."

"Sylvie!"

As she drove back from Frant Marion's mind was turbulent. Regretting her impulsive agreement to have dinner with Guy at one moment and the next minute looking forward to an evening spent with a handsome, amusing young man who would give her his complete attention. She rationalised the situation. Charles did take her out to dine from time to time, but they were always in company, others from the Department or people who Charles wished to cultivate. She couldn't remember the last time they had dined out just as a couple. Could she excuse dinner with a friend whilst Charles was in Brussels? Why not? Guy was just a friend. Charles would no doubt be dining with others and there was a distinct probability that some of those would be women.

Charles was very distracted for the rest of that week so much so that he didn't ask of Marion how her day in Tunbridge went. He usually brought home some papers over the weekend, but now he was bringing them home every evening. After Dinner he would retire to his study and read them all. They had little conversation apart from the usual greetings and chat over the meal. Marion asked him if the Brussels business was important.