Lucy Gordon - Daniel and Daughter

Her next costume was a skintight body stocking in white stretch satin, over which were draped a couple of silk chiffon scarves. One huge flower was perched aslant on her head. Lee shot her with Roxanne, who was dressed as a shepherdess, with panniers and a basket full of flowers. The contrast between the two was breathtaking.

Lindsay Elwes performed miracles of organisation in distributing the absent Stephanie's dresses among the other models. At last she was left with only one garment that hadn't been reassigned.

'Roxanne, I think…' she murmured.

'Roxanne won't have time to get changed after the last tableau,' Lee objected.

'That's right, she won't. And Julia will just be putting on that Victorian thing-it'll have to be Phoebe.'

'I thought you wanted to keep her for the young, modern stuff.'

'Yes, I did,' Lindsay sighed. 'But there's no choice. She's the only one with the time to do it.'

The dress was made of silk chiffon and swept the ground. It was cut on classical lines, without even a hint of decoration. Even the floor-length veil was unadorned, held in place by two small pearls. Lee had her doubts about Phoebe in this conservative style, until she actually saw the girl wearing it. Then she drew in her breath.

Phoebe's blazing beauty was accentuated by the gown's simple lines. With her head slightly bent, a bouquet of lilies in her hand, she looked the essence of gentle femininity and grace.

Lee photographed her with the others in ones and twos, then by herself. 'Take some more of her alone,' Lindsay muttered, and Lee nodded. Already she could see that this was going to be the shot of the spread.

'Twirl,' she instructed Phoebe, who did so. The glorious gown and veil swirled out about her in a soft cloud.

After a few more minutes she called, 'OK, that's it!'

She'd half noticed a new presence in the studio. Now she turned to look and saw that it was Mark.

She gave him a friendly greeting. 'How long have you been there?'

He didn't answer. His gaze was riveted on Phoebe and his mouth had fallen open. She seemed to become aware of him and a slow smile spread over her face. Lee understood that smile. It was triumph that she'd brought her lover back to her feet, but it was innocent of any malice. Phoebe was simply enjoying her newly discovered power as a woman.

She walked slowly across the studio, stopped a precisely judged distance away from Mark and sank into a deep curtsey. The gorgeous dress flared out around her, as she'd known it would. She looked utterly entrancing, and Lee swiftly raised her camera again, praying that Phoebe wouldn't move until she had the picture. And of course Phoebe didn't.

'Do you like me?' she asked impishly of Mark.

He made a sound like a man being strangled. 'You-you look-' he stammered. 'You look just- just-'

'Phoebe, I need that dress,' Lindsay called, and Phoebe wafted away, with a slight backward glance at Mark. He gazed after her, rooted to the spot.

'Mark!' Lee waved a hand in front of his face. 'Come back to earth.'

'I didn't know,' he breathed. 'I never dreamed…'

'She's quite something, isn't she?'

'Quite something? Is that any way to talk about her? She's a goddess-Venus rising from the waves- the face that launched a thousand ships. She's Helen of Troy for whom men died. She's-'

'All right, I get your drift,' Lee said kindly. 'Come and have some coffee and sandwiches with me.'

'I couldn't eat,' he protested in a daze.

'Just honey arid nectar, huh?'

'What?'

'Never mind.' She patted his hand. 'Enjoy it while you're young.'

'All my life,' he murmured. 'All my life.'

'I thought you were never going to speak to her again.'

'That was before I knew,' he said simply.

Phoebe reappeared wearing her street clothes, but it was obvious that to Mark she still carried the aura that had surrounded her in the wedding gown.

'I've got the car outside,' he said. Phoebe laid her hand in his without a word and they left the studio together.

After that the atmosphere in Lee's home improved dramatically. Whatever had happened between Mark and Phoebe, his shining happiness confirmed that the reconciliation was complete.

'He helped me with my maths homework last night,' Sonya told Lee one day, adding with a giggle, 'Mind you, his mind's in such a whirl that I checked it carefully afterwards.'

'Did he tell you anything about how things are going? I don't like to ask him myself in case I'm accused of nagging.'

'The path of true love isn't entirely smooth,' Sonya said dramatically. 'Our hero's noble soul still has much to suffer.'

'Such as?'

'I think he's going to talk to you about his car.'

'Oh, heavens! Not again!'

'No, he's going to take the three thousand. He knows you're not going to let him have seven, and he really can't keep taking Phoebe out in that tomato on wheels. So he's going to give in without actually admitting that he's giving in. You'll be careful what you say to him, won't you, Mum?'

'I'll try to be tactful, darling,' Lee said meekly.

'He's madly sensitive about money, now Phoebe's earning so much. He took her to dinner last week and she lacerated his feelings by offering to go Dutch. Luckily she saw the light in time and meekly allowed him to pay for her.'

'Daniel Raife's daughter did that?'

'She's in love,' Sonya intoned, in the manner of someone announcing a terminal disease. 'And so is he. Honestly, they're dead boring, both of them. What's that for, Mum?' Lee had given her an impulsive hug.

'It's gratitude, darling. At least one person around here has kept a clear head on her shoulders.'

'You wait till it's my turn,' Sonya said wickedly. 'Any day now I'm due to turn into a fiend who stays out late every night, wears punk make-up, dates yobbos and snarls, "Gerroff my back!" every time you speak to me. Most girls my age are already doing that, but luckily for you I'm a late developer.'

'Thank you, darling,' Lee said faintly.

In fact her relationship with Sonya was fast becoming the one stable point in a turbulent world. Mark's moods were on a roller coaster, depending on how often he saw Phoebe.

The negotiations about the car money were handled delicately on both sides. Mark loftily deigned to accept three thousand pounds, without any reference to their previous battles. What Sonya had called 'the tomato on wheels' vanished, never to be seen again, and its place was taken by a silver-blue saloon.

For a while peace reigned, but the next upset was just over the horizon. And the cause, as Sonya had hinted, was Mark's sensitivity about money.

Lee came downstairs one morning with a headache. She'd slept badly, as she often did these days, and felt far from ready for the day. She collected the mail and began to sort sleepily through it. There were bills for herself and something for Mark that she recognised as his credit card statement. It was a source of friction between them as whenever he had trouble meeting the monthly payment, which was usually, he nagged her to increase his allowance. Lee always refused and advised him to economise, which annoyed him.

'Give this to Mark, please,' she said to Sonya, who was just coming downstairs.

Lee went into her den to open her mail. While she was frowning over an invoice she was startled to hear Sonya's voice reach her from the kitchen across the hall.

'Mum will go absolutely ballistic when she sees that.'

Then Mark's voice. 'She isn't going to see it. Anyway, no woman tells me what to do.'

Lee hurried out and reached the kitchen door just as Sonya said, 'Don't be a prat, Mark. Of course she'll find out.'

'Find out what?' Lee asked. The two of them jumped. In the silence Lee looked from one to the other. Sonya's lips were firmly pressed together and