No spring CHICKEN

Pamela was shocked – was that really how a stranger saw her?

Pamela was shocked when Peter Retallic stopped her on the street.

Peter was a young artist who had a studio at the far end of the village. His wild appearance and rather louche lifestyle was the subject of much discussion and disapproval. There seemed to be a stream of women coming and going to his house. The general consensus among Pamela's friends was that he was definitely 'not one of us'.

Peter smiled disarmingly. She could see flecks of paint in his hair. 'Hi, it's Pamela, isn't it?' Pamela looked at him suspiciously. 'Yeees?'

He stared at her without speaking for a few seconds. She found his gaze disconcerting.

'The thing is, Pamela, I have an exhibition coming up in the library, and you'd be perfect for a painting I have in mind.'

Pamela shook her head in disbelief. She had barely swapped a dozen words with him. 'You want to paint me? Are you serious?'

He nodded enthusiastically. 'I'm always serious about my work."

'But why me?'

He held his hands up, framing her face. 'I want to do a painting of Hera, the wife of Zeus. I feel you have a quality of ethereal sensuality the work needs.'

Pamela blushed to the top of her head. Ethereal sensuality. She was 45, the mother of two grown-up children! She cleared her throat. 'Well, it's... very... nice of you, but I don't think...'