Mrs Watts used to run the other Brownie unit and would come into the infant school to help children learn to embroider. She was expert in polite conversation, invited groups of children to her house for tea where they'd learn to sit at a table, make tea in a bone china pot, use the nicest cutlery and cups, nibble at arrowroot biscuits whilst Bach or suchlike was playing in the background and at the first hint of a child's sadness or thinking they could fail, would always answer with a suitably encouraging reply. When I was slumping around the place, she decided that today would be the day that we learned how to stand and walk like graceful dancers (and brought out some slim hardback books from her full bookcase for us to balance on our heads). She promised that she'd teach me a little bit of ballet and gave me a book showing the positions and terms when I was clearly the most enthusiastic about this.
She was small, probably around 5 foot tall, wore cream and beige clothes, a dark polo neck jumper in winter, wrap cardigans in spring and autumn, all looking immaculate, a perfect fine gold chain around her neck, a narrow gold watch, slim gold rimmed glasses with a slight cats eye that suited her perfectly, carried a dark brown leather handbag and had the most perfect, pure white bob, glowing skin with the faintest smattering of pale gold freckles on her cheeks, along with perfectly cool toned lipstick, neat eyebrows and long, dark eyelashes. She wore a gold wedding ring and a diamond solitaire on elegant hands (with the slightest hint of swelling in the knuckles) and perfectly neat, oval nails with pale pink varnish on them.
She would glide effortlessly from classroom to activity area, leaving a faint scent of flowers wherever she went and never seemed flustered or impatient or raised her voice, but would smile, revealing perfect white teeth as the skin around her green eyes crinkled slightly.
I thought she was amazing (hence why I was able to remember so much about her appearance, as I was fascinated by her) and like nobody else I'd ever met.
My mother despised her with every fibre of her being.
I always thought that if my hair went white, I'd try and look like Mrs Watts. Sadly, I doubt that even with white hair, I'd ever be as lovely and elegant as Mrs Watts.