I wonder how much longer I am going to have to sit very still. I had to take my glasses off to have this portrait painted so everything looks a bit fuzzy. Inside I am worried what the lady is going to see. Is she going to paint those two red splodges on my nose where my glasses pinch them? Will she notice that I didn’t wash my ears this morning? What about that little chip on my front tooth when I bit together too quickly? And then there is the scar on my forehead.

I try to look relaxed but I don’t feel it at all, my blue dress is starting to feel a bit prickly and I really want to wriggle about. I remember that the lady’s husband kept bees on the farm and was badly stung but although I really want to know more it is not the sort of thing one can talk about to an artist at work. I guess I had better resort to making up some stories in my head, like I do when maths gets very boring.

Oh thank heavens there is the doorbell and sounds of “Come in John. Come in. Your daughter has been so good and rather shy.“ Well no one has ever thought I was so good and rather shy before so that is a new one on me. My dad arrives in the room. “Oh Dorothy. You are making her look like an angel,“ he says with a delight. Oh heck has she given me wings and a halo?

“Can I have a look?” I ask trying to disguise my terror. “I am so sorry dear,“ says the lady. “Here you are.“ I check for all signs of a chipped tooth, a pinched nose, a scar on a forehead, unwashed ears, wings or a halo. As far as I can see none of them seem to be there so I blurt out my appreciation. Well, I never knew angels wore blue cotton dresses but I guess for now I had better keep up the appearances while they last.