A Daughter’s Dream. Cathy Sharp

offering his hand. ‘I believe you have designed a rather lovely gown for my daughter. How clever you must be.’

      His smile was charming; his manner seemed warm and friendly – a perfect gentleman. I had expected Mary’s father to be a bit of an ogre and I wondered at the faint hostility I glimpsed in her eyes.

      Why didn’t Mary like her father? She seemed nervous, almost frightened of him, and yet he appeared to be a kind, generous and indulgent father.

      ‘Amy is going to be a famous designer one day,’ she said. ‘I’m lucky to be her first client. Now go away and talk to your own friends, Daddy. Amy and I want to have fun.’