Mrs. Pargeter's Pound of Flesh Read Online Free Page B

done.
    There was also something strange about the man's proportions. He looked short when sitting down; but Mrs Pargeter was surprised how much taller than her he was when he rose to his feet.
    Nor was there anything comforting about his manner. Though, given the reason for her visit to his surgery, Mrs Pargeter had not been expecting the full bedside empathy, she had hoped for a little more effort at charm. Being nice to people, however, was evidently low on Dr Potters' priorities. He signed the required documentation for her, but did not waste any energy on smiles or pleasantries.
    Mrs Pargeter quickly decided that the appointment of such an unprepossessing doctor was another part of Ankle-Deep Arkwright's marketing strategy. The proprietor knew that his guests came to Brotherton Hall primarily to fuel the hatred they felt for their bodies. Surrounding them with perfectly proportioned female staff and offering the services of an unsympathetic medical adviser could only help in their process of willing self-abasement.
    Also on that first day, Mrs Pargeter met the 'wonderful' Sue Fisher. Whom she found almost as unappealing as Dr Potter.
    The goddess of Mind Over Fatty Matter had not come to Brotherton Hall solely to deliver her lecture of the previous evening. She had done that simply because she was there and could not resist the prospect of motivating yet more sales of Mind Over Fatty Matter products.
    The real reason for her presence was that Brotherton Hall had received the inestimable honour of featuring as background to her latest Mind Over Fatty Matter video.
    How much bargaining had preceded this arrangement, and what kind of deal Ankle-Deep Arkwright had eventually struck to attain it could not be known, but there was no doubt that the negotiations had been tough. The secret of Sue Fisher's success lay not in her invention of the Mind Over Fatty Matter regime, but in her skilful promotion and marketing of it. She was fully aware of the value of a casual camera panning across the name of any health spa on one of her videos, and had undoubtedly ensured that Brotherton Hall paid appropriately – or, more likely, excessively – for the privilege.
    But the way she queened it over the filming showed she had no doubt of who was the senior partner in any deal with Ankle-Deep Arkwright. Just as her regime had eliminated every milligram of unnecessary fat from her body, so she had excluded from her conversation all unnecessary words – like 'please' and 'thank you'.
    But this did not seem to diminish her standing in the eyes of the infatuated Brotherton Hall guests, who watched the making of the video as if they had ringside seats at the Second Coming.
    Mrs Pargeter only witnessed a little of the action, as she passed the gym on her way from the 'Allergy Room' to the solarium for an after-lunch doze. The space was full of perfectly formed women, dressed in identical Mind Over Fatty Matter leotards, leggings, and, presumably, exercise bras. The participants had been shipped in for the occasion; the suggestion, tentatively offered at question-time after her lecture of the previous night, that Sue Fisher might include some of the current Brotherton Hall guests in her video, had been slapped down with instant and humiliating contempt.
    In the middle of these perfect fat-free bodies was the most perfect of the lot, the one that belonged to Sue Fisher herself. When casting for her videos she followed the bridesmaid selection process of a canny bride, and always chose bodies which, though they looked perfect by average standards, were fractionally inferior to her own. This, and the contrastingly vivid design of her own Mind Over Fatty Matter leotard, leggings, and exercise bra, left no doubt where the focus of attention should be.
    As Mrs Pargeter passed, the goddess was taking the other bodies – and from the way she treated them that was patently how she thought of them – through their paces in an aerobic routine. Though they