The Pampered Pooch

The workmen unloaded each trunk from the car one by one, groaning under the weight of hundreds of dresses, jewels, make-up and hair extensions that were packed into each one. Through the door they went, up the staircase and into the first room on the right, where the small hand-written card blu-tacked to the door read "Miss E. Hillsdale".

Sat inside on a leather armchair was Miss E. Hillsdale herself, watching through half-closed eyes as the trunks were brought in. Finally, the workmen made one last trip upstairs, this time carrying a small wicker basket in which her Yorkshire Terrier Diamante lay fast asleep.

"Didi!" cried Elena, and one of them men lifted him up out of his basket and placed him in her arms. "Who's Ellie's beautiful little boy then? You are, yes, you are!"

The little terrier barked once snuggled into her arms. Elena looked up suddenly at the workmen, as if she had only just remembered they were there. "Oh, you can leave now," she said casually. "Ask my daughter to come in, would you? And my hairdresser, obviously."

"Yes, miss," mumbled the workman. "Er, which is your hairdresser? Only there are quite a few..."

"For heaven's sake, who do you think I am? Some third rate contestant in a village contest, ready to go on dressed as Miss Greengrocer of the century? Leo Marks is my main hairdresser, he's got his own line of hair products for god's sake! You can't miss him, he's the next door along. Now get a move on, it's only twelve hours til the pageant starts!"

The workmen shuffled out, and Elena sighed and put Diamante back on his cushion - pale blue, of course, to match her famous sapphire blue eyes and the dress that had made her so famous. It was incredible, she thought, how just one dress could turn a whole pageant around. Today's one was a sure-fire winner. Everyone had made that clear to her from the start.

"It's barely worth holding a Mistress Desire contest this year," one magazine had stated. "Elena Hillsdale is sure to carry off all the prizes. The other finalists, Callee Wainwright and Amina Owatche, and won't stand a chance!"

A knock at the door called her out of her reverie, and she looks up to see her daughter Mayflower come into the room silently.

Elena sighed. "May, I've told you. When you come into a room you need to instantly capture the attention of everyone in the room. If you don't do that, you're overlooked instantly. You're ignored."

May nodded once, and turned her pretty head to her mother in a coquettish gesture, and saw her mother's nod of approval. "You asked to see me?"

"I sure did. Leo will be here in a few moments, and you need to be made up as well as me. You've got to dazzle; when I win I'm going to get you up onto the stage so the world can see you for the first time. You need to start early if you're to have a chance at this game. And that's what you want, right?"

May nodded again, this time smiling a little. "Oh yes! More than anything."

"Good. Then you know what to do, I've been teaching you for long enough. Smile, look down and then up, and don't forget the head line."

May nodded, and at that moment Leo came in.

"Hiya!" Leo grinned at Elena. "So, how're we making you look today?"

"Beautiful," replied Elena, and Leo laughed.

"That shouldn't be too tricky, lovely. Okay, let's get to work."

"I want you to do May up as well," instructed Elena, as Leo got to work setting and curling Elena's bleach-blonde hair. "Make her look dazzling. Not straight beautiful, that's my job, but she needs to have sparkle. She's got to be in the mags tomorrow morning, next to me. It's her first public appearance, and first impressions count. She can't be, like, the dowdy brunette with the misfortune to share a name with the world's most famous model. She's got to be out there."

"You know I'll always do my best for you, Ellie," replied Leo. "But there's nothing about Mayflower Hillsdale in my contract. I'm not licensed to do work for her."

"Yeah, but you know me, Leo. You've got to get used to her being around, she'll soon be competing alongside me and you'll have to sort us both out." She trilled her soprano laugh.

"Ah, Ellie, have you forgotten? If you win this pageant, I'm off the team. It's in my contract, I leave soon as you get a new title. I'll have to find myself a new girl to sort out." He sighed. 

"What do you mean, if I win? Of course I'm going to win!"

Leo bit his lip, his usually bright eyes and smile slightly downcast. "Just gotta get the straighteners, lovey," he muttered, and left the room.

Elena's eyes flew open. "Huh? Did I say something?" she asked.

"He likes working for you," replied her daughter, "What's more, he knows you're the best. I was chatting with him yesterday; he says if he ever is no longer your stylist his sales will plummet. He'll go from Hairdresser of the Decade to running a corner salon."

"Nonsense, a guy like him? Don't talk rubbish, May."

May shrugged and sat back down.

"In any case, I can't help but win this," Elena said. "I'm the most beautiful. What?" she asked, in response to her daughter's questioning look. "There's no point being modest about it. Modesty won't win you column inches. Say something outrageous and you'll be headlines. Look at Jake Paine."

May cast her mind back, remembering the time two months ago when Jake Paine, the famous fashion designer, had been in a car accident and been paralysed from the waist down. Elena, after offering her sympathies, was pressed for his life story. She had replied with the tale of her life modelling his products, including several less than savoury stories about his life. There had been an outcry, magazines and papers all over the world wondering how such a sweet, pretty girl could say all that about such a poor, injured man. Yet it had raised Elena's profile at a time when she had been becoming less known, so it was worth it, in her opinion.

"Saw him outside," replied May quietly.

"Don't mumble, girl!" replied Elena. "No-one writes what people mumble. It's not worth it. Now, go and find Leo for me. I can't sit like this for hours."

May rose, and left the room to fetch him.

Several hours later, Elena was almost ready to go. Her eyes smouldered under perfectly-applied make up, her hair fell in a cascade of gold. All that was necessary to complete the look was her award-winning dress, the classic, the one that had made her famous to start with.

"Bring it out!" she called.

There was a gasp as the cupboard door was opened. The dress, which was supposed to be hanging in its dust cover, had been shredded and torn. Scraps of fabric were strewn across the whole wardrobe and even the headdress had been shattered.

Elena screamed and staggered. Tears filled her eyes. "My dress!"

"Don't cry, for god's sake," called the pageant owner. "You need to go on in twenty minutes and your make-up will run."

Elena blinked to dispel the tears. "My god, who could have done this?" she asked weakly. "How can I win now? I've nothing to wear!"

"You could wear one of your other dresses," replied the pageant owner. "The gold with the blue band would go well, you wouldn't have to chance your hair or make-up or anything -"

"No!" screamed Elena, "There are a hundred thousand people out there, waiting to see me in the dress that made me famous! The dress that made me me! They don't want to see some cheap, fake imitation! One of those other bitches will win, not me!"

She spun around to face her stylist. "Did you do this? Because you're leaving?"

"No!" cried Leo. "It wasn't me, I wouldn't do it. I love that dress!"

Who cut the dress?

Answer: It was May. The only people with a motive were Leo, May and Jake. However, Jake, being paralysed and therefore confined to a wheelchair, would have been unable to manage the stairs leading up to the Elena's room. It would have been much easier for May than Leo to cut the dress whilst her mother was busy. She wanted to destroy the dress because she wanted to be her own person, not a shadow of her mother, which was what she knew would happen if her mother won.