The reflection in the mirror looked back at Minerva with the same half-admiring half-critical gaze she wore herself. The make-up was suitably invisible and worth the expense. She turned and whipped the curling tongs out of her handbag irritated by a slight imbalance in the bob. Dead straight hair was a curse. It was a handful of minutes before she was completely satisfied. ‘Yes’ she thought and a slight almost imperceptible nod. An almost-smile. One more thing before perfection. She slightly raised one buttock and let out a tiny and very ladylike ‘peep’. Now she was ready.