Lily burst out laughing. ‘Well, I’ll be sure not to make the same mistake.’ Were Megan and Zac really hooking up? It was hard to fathom. And then it dawned on her. ‘Is that where Zac is now?’
Poppy nodded. ‘He’s in her trailer, doing her “hair and make-up”.’ She made speech marks when she said it, making Lily laugh harder. Poppy reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t think who.
Whoever it was, Poppy was a smart kid. She’d have to watch herself around her. ‘I’ve finished designing your costume,’ she said, fetching her drawing pad. ‘Here we are… The Mad Hatter.’
Poppy’s mouth dropped open. ‘Oh, wow! It’s soooo cool.’
‘You like it?’
‘I love it.’ Her small fingers trailed over the sketch of a cartoon figure wearing a large misshapen pea-green top hat, with matching green bow tie and trousers, and a sunflower-yellow tailcoat with a big collar. ‘I love this,’ she said, pointing to the 10/6 price tag tucked into the brim of the top hat. ‘It’s funny.’
‘Glad you like it.’
‘But I won’t be able to make all this.’ Her little face creased into a frown. ‘It’s too difficult. I’ve only made a bed cover so far, and the show’s next week.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll do it together. You’re going to make the bow tie and the sashes for the hat and the waistband, and I’m going to make the trousers and the coat. But first,’ she said, leading Poppy to the fold-down table at the back of the trailer. ‘We need to make the hat.’
Earlier in the day, she’d popped into the extras trailer and pinched one of the top hats not being used. It was too small for any of the adults, but hopefully perfect for a child.
She placed it on Poppy’s head. ‘This will be our base. Have you ever made paper mâché?’
Poppy shook her head.
‘Then you’re in for a treat.’ She tied a protective apron around Poppy, so her school uniform was covered. ‘Have a seat.’ She fetched a roll of wire mesh. ‘We’ll use this wire to create our shape and then put paper mâché over the top.’
She cut a length of mesh, bending it into an exaggerated elongated cone shape and fixed it to the hat.
‘Now for the fun part.’ She filled a bucket of water at the sink. ‘How was school today?’
‘Okay. I had to switch lunch groups, because Riley ate too many sweets and was sick everywhere and they had to clean the canteen, so I didn’t get my lunch in the first sitting.’
Lily emptied a bag of flour into the water. ‘Boys, huh?’
Poppy was clearly not a fan. ‘I didn’t like not having my lunch in the first sitting.’
‘Not a fan of change, eh?’
Poppy shook her head.
‘I’m the same.’ She carried the bucket over. ‘I think it’s because when my mum died life was very uncertain for a while. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me, or where I was going to live. Or even who was going to pick me up after school and feed me.’
‘That’s scary.’
‘It was.’
‘What happened?’
‘Well, as you know, I went to live with my grandparents. It was strange at first, they were very different to my mum. But I soon got used to it. I liked the fact that their lives were very structured. You know, they had their routines. Breakfast was always at eight, dinner at seven. Stuff like that. It made me feel safe.’
She tore the newspaper into strips, thinking back to her childhood. She was only four when her mum had died, so she didn’t have many memories of her young life. And what she did remember wasn’t great. Snippets of her mum falling ill. A neighbour calling the paramedics. Flashing blue lights. People in uniforms arriving. Staying with a foster carer for a few days until her grandparents could be tracked down and offered permanent guardianship. It was years later before she found out her mum had died of sepsis. A kidney infection that was left untreated until it was too severe to overcome.
‘Sometimes change can be a good thing,’ she said, coming back to the present. ‘Like learning new skills…’ She soaked a strip of paper in the glue and laid it across the wire mesh. ‘… like how to make paper mâché.’
Poppy recoiled. ‘It’s wet!’
‘I know, but it dries hard. So we’ll be able to paint it green, like the drawing.’
Poppy didn’t look convinced. ‘It looks messy.’
‘That’s why it’s so much fun.’ She lifted her hands from the bucket, letting the glue drip down. ‘You have a go.’
Poppy hesitated.
‘I used warm water, so it’s not cold. Put your hands in.’
Poppy lowered her hands into the glue. ‘Ew, it’s disgusting!’ But she was laughing.
Lily laughed too. Mostly at Poppy’s reaction, a combination of horror and excitement. ‘Wipe the excess glue from the paper… that’s it… now place it on the mesh.’ She guided the girl’s hands, their fingers slipping together. ‘Fun?’
‘Sticky!’
‘Can you see how the paper blends together?’
‘It’s magic!’
‘I know, right?’ She gestured for Poppy to soak another strip of paper. ‘You can make all sorts of things with paper mâché. Christmas decorations, lanterns, bowls, even a face mask.’
Poppy added another strip of paper, her tongue poking out in concentration as she joined the pieces together. ‘Who taught you this?’
‘My grandma. She was very creative. She taught me all sorts of things. Like how to bake cakes, how to grow tomatoes and how to make greeting cards. Not to mention, how to sew.’
‘Did you enjoy learning all those things?’
‘I loved it. I was a very shy child. I didn’t like socialising much, so I think she saw it as a way of helping me build my confidence. And I liked spending time with her.’
Poppy nodded. ‘I like spending time with my daddy.’
Lily smiled. ‘That’s nice.’ She’d never known her own father. He’d disappeared shortly after she was born. They say you can’t miss what you’ve never had, but she didn’t think that was true.
She held the hat steady for Poppy. ‘What do you like doing with your daddy?’
‘Watching films, mostly.’ Poppy added more paper to the mesh. ‘We cook dinner together and play in the garden with my pets. He lets me practise doing make-up on him, but I know he doesn’t like it.’
Lily’s heart melted a little. ‘But he still lets you do it?’
Poppy nodded.
‘Then he’s a very nice daddy.’
‘He is.’ A drop of glue fell from her hand onto the table. She looked mortified. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s okay, that’s why I covered the table in clingfilm. Don’t worry about making a mess. It’s impossible not to.’
Poppy looked unsure.
‘Honestly.’ She rubbed her hands on the table, making Poppy giggle. ‘See?’
‘You’re funny.’ She returned to soaking more paper. ‘Like my daddy.’
Lily fetched a cloth and wiped the table, an effort to keep the mess to a minimum. ‘Your daddy makes you laugh?’
‘Lots.’ Poppy’s eyes lit up, but then her face creased into a frown. ‘But sometimes he looks sad. I think he misses my mummy.’
Lily rinsed the cloth in the sink. ‘Well, that’s understandable. Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?’
‘No.’ She shook her head, making her ponytail sway. ‘He’s says he hasn’t met the right woman yet.’
‘That’s fair enough.’
‘But how do you know when you have? He might have met her and not realised.’
Lily squeezed out the cloth. ‘I guess, you just know.’ She leant against the sink. ‘Knowing someone isn’t right is probably easier than knowing that they are, if that makes sense.’ Not that she’d had much experience, but she’d certainly felt an instant connection with Will.
Typical. Trust him to pop into her head.
‘Have you ever met the right person?’ Poppy asked, innocently.
She sighed. ‘I th
ought I had, but it didn’t work out.’
‘Why not?’
‘I guess it became too complicated.’ Mostly, thanks to her stupidity in lying about her career. If she’d just been honest, things might have turned out differently. But then, if she’d been honest he wouldn’t have wanted her in the first place, would he?
‘Why did you think he might be The One?’
Lily quirked an eyebrow. ‘That’s a very grown-up phrase. Where did you hear that?’
‘Prince Edward says it about Giselle in the film Enchanted.’
‘Right.’ Fairy tales had a lot to answer for. ‘Well, he made me laugh, for a start. He was very kind and thoughtful. He was good-looking and he made me feel brave. I liked who I was when I was with him.’
‘I feel like that about Colin the Rabbit.’
Lily spluttered a surprised laugh. ‘Then hold onto him. He sounds like a keeper.’
Poppy sighed, her face a picture of concentration as she smoothed over the glue. ‘But if the man you met was that nice, then why did it become complicated?’
No way was Lily about to confess her crime to an eleven-year-old child. She had some dignity. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Adults can be very strange.’
‘I don’t disagree with you there.’ Lily returned to the table and sat down. ‘I’m sure your daddy will find someone soon. And until he does, he has you. And it sounds like that’s enough for him for the time being.’
‘Maybe.’ Poppy added more paper to the sides of the hat. She was getting the hang of it. ‘It gets a bit lonely sometimes with only the two of us. I see my grandparents a lot, and my Aunty and Zac, but I wish I had a brother or sister to play with.’
‘I can relate to that. I always wanted a bigger family. I loved my grandparents, but it didn’t stop me feeling lonely. And they were so much older than me. I felt like a square peg in a round hole.’ She moved Poppy’s ponytail out the way before it landed in the glue. ‘Have you told your daddy how you feel?’
‘Kind of. He just tells me to play with my friends more, and I don’t want to do that.’
‘Why not?’
She shrugged. ‘I like being at home.’
‘Me too.’
She’d lost count of the times people had told her to ‘get out more’ over the years. But it wasn’t that simple. Aside from caring for her grandparents, she hadn’t really wanted to. It was the curse of being an introvert.
She shook her thoughts away. ‘Right. That’s the first layer done. We’ll let it dry overnight. It’ll probably need two or three layers before we can paint it. Let’s clear up and we can make a start on the sashes.’
Her phone started ringing. She glanced at the screen. It was Will. Not that she could answer it, her hands were covered in glue. Thank heavens for small mercies. Whatever he wanted, it would have to wait.
She took Poppy over to the sink and helped her wash off the glue.
Poppy smiled up at her. ‘I like coming here.’
For some inexplicable reason, Lily’s chest squeezed. ‘I like having you here.’
She now understood why her grandma had been so happy to spend all that time with her as a child. There was something rewarding about passing on your skills to the next generation. But there was also another emotion lurking beneath the surface. A longing. A deep-rooted desire to be part of a family again. She missed that.
They’d just finished cleaning up when Zac appeared in the doorway, his black quiff wilted by the rain. ‘Having fun?’ he said, coming into the trailer.
Poppy ran over. ‘I made a hat,’ she said, excitedly. ‘For the school play. Look. It’s made from paper mâché.’ She dragged him over to the table.
He eyed it with an approving look. ‘Clever girl.’
‘It needs more layers, and then we can paint it green.’
‘Cool.’ He put his arm around her. ‘But we have to go now, squirt.’
‘Oh.’ Her face fell. ‘Do we have to?’
‘We’re going to Nanny’s for tea. Don’t you want to see them?’
‘Yes… but I was about to make a sash.’
Lily intervened. ‘We’ve still got plenty of time. The show isn’t until next week. We’ll finish everything off next time Zac brings you over. Okay?’
Poppy let out a sigh.
Zac tugged on her ponytail. ‘Put your coat on, it’s piss… err, I mean, it’s raining outside.’
Poppy gave him a reprimanding look. ‘You were going to swear.’
Zac grinned. ‘Busted.’
Lily laughed. She watched Poppy run off to fetch her coat. ‘Smart kid.’
‘Tell me about it. Thanks for looking after her. I managed to get to the wholesalers and pick up supplies for next week.’
‘Oh…?’ Lily tried to keep a straight face. ‘Is that where you went?’ she asked innocently.
‘Err… yeah.’ Zak avoided eye contact.
Busted, she thought, as he’d said himself.
Still, who was she to talk? And her lie was a lot bigger than his.
She waved them both off at the door.
‘See you soon!’ she called, as they ran over to the car, trying not to get drenched.
She was still waving when another car pulled into the car park. The driver wound down his window. ‘Taxi for Lily Monroe?’
She frowned. ‘I didn’t order a taxi.’
‘Your boss did. He said to check your phone. He says you never answer it.’ The driver smiled. ‘I’m happy to wait. No rush.’
Why on earth had Will called her a taxi?
Confused, she headed inside the trailer to check her phone. She’d successfully managed to avoid Will for the past few days, engineering it so that wherever she was, he wasn’t. The energy between them had changed of late. It seemed to have switched frequencies, and the previous animosity had now shifted to simultaneous pulses of both desire and displeasure, in equal measures. There was heat in Will’s stare, but not necessarily of anger. An unanswered question hanging in the air, waiting for her response. And Lily didn’t like it.
As much as she hated arguing with him, it was safer than allowing a friendship to develop. She had too much to hide. Her career was at stake. A career she was finally starting to get the hang of. If she could just get to the end of the project without being outed, then at least if her fabrication was exposed she might be forgiven.
That’s what she was banking on, anyway.
She checked her phone. There was a message from Will, asking her to bring all three royal gowns to Madame Tussauds for a photoshoot.
What, now? Was he for real?
He’d added a postscript, reminding her to use the garment bags he’d bought for her. He had handed them over to her silently last week following her exertions trying to lug the Tudor dress up Castle Hill in a bin-liner.
She supposed he was trying to be helpful. The travel bags certainly made for more suitable transportation. Especially in the pouring rain.
With a sigh, she packed up the gowns and headed outside to the waiting taxi. Hopefully, she could drop off the dresses and escape without engaging in conversation.
But her strategy failed when they pulled up at the old railway station and Will was outside waiting for her, sheltering under the domed roof. So much for avoiding him.
He paid the driver and lifted the dresses from the back seat. He then appeared by the passenger window. ‘Why aren’t you getting out?’ he shouted through the glass.
She wound down the window. ‘Isn’t the driver taking me back to the trailer?’
‘No. I need you inside.’
‘Why?’
‘Come with me and you’ll find out.’
Great. Just what she didn’t need.
Thanking the driver, she reluctantly climbed out and followed Will into the pedestrian area, past the almost deserted cafes and restaurants. The bad weather had deterred visitors today.
They reached Madame Tussauds. A few tourists milled about, but not the usual throng of people
eager to admire the waxwork creations.
Will led her to a small side room, usually set up to depict a drawing room where a waxwork Queen Victoria perched on a sofa being served afternoon tea. The statues had been relocated to the corridor.
Lily glanced around, taking in the traditional dark burgundy carpet, mahogany walls and bronze flock wallpaper behind the fireplace. ‘Is Megan here?’
‘Just me,’ he said, hanging the dresses behind the door.
‘I thought you needed the dresses for a photoshoot?’
‘I do.’ He pointed to the flock wallpaper. ‘I thought this would make a nice backdrop.’ The space was lit by two spotlights, magnified by surrounding photography umbrellas. ‘I promised the company handling our social media a few promo shots of the dresses.’ He turned to her. ‘I may have mentioned how good they were.’
‘Right.’ She supposed she should feel flattered. ‘But kind of hard to do without Megan. The dresses won’t look so impressive on hangers.’
‘I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up. I’ve left a message, but I’m guessing she can’t make it. I don’t want to waste a free afternoon.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Can we use the tailor’s dummy instead?’
‘Sure, if you want to drive back to the wardrobe trailer and fetch it.’
He moved around her, assessing her.
‘What?’
‘You’re about the same size as Megan.’
‘Meaning?’
‘You could model them.’
She stepped back. ‘No way.’
‘Why not?’
Was he for real? ‘Several reasons.’
‘Such as?’
She threw her arms in the air. ‘I’m shorter than her. Paler than her. Less endowed. And not an actress.’
‘You don’t have to be. I just need your body.’
She raised her eyebrows.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I do, and you’re not having it.’
They both stilled. No doubt the same thought had crossed their minds.
She had given him her body once. The memory of which still had the ability to ignite a hot flush.
‘Besides,’ she said, covering her embarrassment. ‘The colour palette is designed for darker skin, a match for Megan’s colouring. Not mine.’
Someone Like You: Escape with this perfect uplifting romance Page 21