Prologue

‘This is all Lizzie’s mother’s fault’ thought Charlotte as she sat at the breakfast table opposite her parents. Having breakfast together as a family was unusual, but not that remarkable. What separated this morning from all the others that had gone before was her parents’ dress sense. Charlotte had long despaired of them both and their old fashioned, ill coordinated clothes. When accompanying them in public she was always struck with a deep sense of embarrassment, which was heightened if she met an acquaintance. Why couldn’t they be trendy, like so many of her friends’ parents? This morning, however, she was prepared to forgive them all their crimes against fashion. Charlotte longed to see her father decked out in a trademark pale blue cotton shirt with cravat and cream chinos. How she wished her mother were wearing her favourite red and beige blouse with a tightly buttoned ruffed collar that made her look like the spouse of a country vicar at a summer fete.

For at least having no dress sense was better than having no dress. What separated this morning’s breakfast from all the others was her parents’ attire; or rather the lack of it. They were both sipping their coffee and spreading thick orange marmalade on their toast as naked as the day they were born.
It all began just over a week ago.