I put it into the mix with all the other things. Before
long, I had a little bottle of perfume made from the things
I had mixed together. I put some on the back of my hand. I
thought it smelled nice, but there was nothing special
about it, so I put the bottle into my handbag. I couldn't
give something like that to my boss. After all, I am a
chemist and my job is to make perfumes in a proper way. If
I told him how I made this one he would tell me not to be
a silly girl. Later, he would probably make a joke about it
to his friends at the golf club.
That's the kind of man my boss was.
`Anna!'
It was my boss, David Amos, the owner of Amos
Cosmetics. He happened to be walking past where I
worked. He never usually spoke to people like me. What
did he want? I felt nervous.
`Yes, Mr Amos.' I said.
`You're looking terri®c today! Mmm . . . what's that
lovely smell? It's like fresh bread and ¯owers and sunshine
all mixed together with . . . I don't know ± is it you,
Anna?'
I didn't know what he was talking about. I couldn't smell
anything special.
Mr Amos had an expert nose for perfumes. And he
knew it.
`Yes, it is you!' he said loudly. All the other chemists
nearby could hear. It was embarrassing.
I had never heard my boss speak to me like that before.
Or to anybody else, come to think of it. David Amos is a
dark, handsome English guy who would never dream of
saying nice things to ordinary looking girls like me. He
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