Wonder Women

by Fiore, Rosie

  On the third page, the background was a bathroom with a shower curtain covered in green palm trees and bright parrots. Jo smiled – she recognised the curtain from Lee’s parents’ house, and she knew the palm-tree design had been an influence in his designs for Jungletown. Flo was wearing a pith helmet and holding a big magnifying glass, and the lion and the kitten sat either side of her. They were both wearing Monkeyman T-shirts. ‘Today, Flo, Jack and Pimmy are exploring the jungle,’ read the text. An orange and black striped towel lay on the floor, twisted into a coil, and Lee had added a snake’s eyes and forked tongue to one end of it. The cord for the light had bright green leaves growing from it, and a monkey peeked out from behind the shampoo bottles.

  The fourth and last page was a cityscape of giant skyscrapers. Jo recognised the photograph as one she had taken in New York. Flo was a tiny figure, alone at the bottom of the page, looking up at the giant buildings. ‘When Flo goes to the big city,’ said the script at the top of the page, ‘Jack and Pimmy miss her very much.’

  ‘When did you …?’ she asked, looking up at Lee.

  ‘All night. I haven’t slept,’ he said. ‘You were right. Your photographs were the inspiration I needed. The idea for the book just came together. These are just some rough drafts, and obviously there’d be more text …’ He seemed to have run out of things to say, or the courage to say them, so he stopped.

  ‘It’s good,’ said Jo. Lee waited. ‘No, it’s better than good. It’s beautiful. It’s just …’

  ‘Just what?’

  ‘Very personal. I mean … it’s us.’

  ‘I know. This book isn’t for anyone else. This book will be just for you. And maybe for Zach and Imi, if you wanted to share it with them.’

  He continued. ‘This isn’t all I did yesterday. While the kids were at school in the morning, I logged my details with five freelance agencies. I registered a domain name for my own portfolio website and made a holding page. I made an appointment with the GP to talk about the possibility that I might need anti-depressants, and I definitely want to see a therapist, and I found the names of three possible couples counsellors for us to see together.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Jo. She kept touching the screen in front of her, moving around the image of little Flo, alone in the big city. ‘You have been busy.’

  ‘I messed up,’ said Lee. ‘I will do anything to fix it. Anything.’

  ‘No. We messed up. I messed up. A lot. I always thought we had enough love between us to get through anything, but … I just let my life fill up. Work, stress, the kids, domestic stuff … I ran out of space for you.’ Jo took a deep breath. ‘Us. You and me together,’ she said. ‘That’s the centre of everything, isn’t it? Without that, it’s all going to just fly apart and shatter.’

  Lee nodded.

  She reached out and touched the screen lightly. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done. I will try, with you, to fix what we have.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Lee quietly.

  ‘You’re not in the pictures,’ said Jo.

  ‘What?’

  ‘These pictures. I’m in them, Zach and Imi are in them, but you’re not.’

  ‘I am in them. I’m in the background. I am the background. You … you and the kids … you’re the magic, and the colour in my world. Without you …’

  Lee held out his hand, and she looked at it for the longest time. Finally, slowly, she took it.

  33

  HOLLY NOW

  On a blustery autumn day, Holly and Jo met for coffee. Or at least, Holly thought wryly, in the old days it would have been coffee. Under the new, more corporate regime, it was probably a tax-deductible breakfast meeting. She hadn’t seen Jo for weeks – Jo had had her whirlwind trip to New York, and Holly had been deep in house clearance when she returned. Then Jo and Lee had gone off for a three-week summer holiday in Cornwall, and had only just got back. Jo was a bit late, and Holly was already spooning the chocolatey foam off her cappuccino when she came rushing through the door. She looked fabulous, with a rich golden tan that defied the grey rainy weather outside, and a simple but very classy chocolate-brown wrap dress. She waved to Holly, placed her order at the counter and came to sit down. As she put her bag on the floor and crossed her legs, Holly noticed her shoes.

  ‘Oh my,’ she said reverently. ‘Louboutins?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jo. ‘I’ll be paying for them till Zach goes to university, and I know I shouldn’t be wearing them in the rain, but I love them like one of my children.’

  Holly laughed. ‘Shoes should be worn – they cry if you don’t wear them.’

  ‘That’s what I tell them. And besides, if some nasty New Yorker had bought them instead of me, the weather’s worse there. I told them they got off lightly.’

  Holly smiled. It was good to see that despite the sleek new look, and the undeniable corporate success, Jo was still just the same.

  ‘How was Cornwall?’

  ‘Oh, like heaven. We had this scruffy old cottage, and we just poddled about on the beach all day. The weather was wonderful. I read about ten books, and we caught up on the four years of films we’ve missed by watching loads of DVDs. This last year has been’ – Jo searched for the right words – ‘amazing and brilliant and insanely stressful and hard. And Lee and I … have both taken the strain rather. We needed some time away from everything, just to be together. It was perfect. I feel rested and full of energy. Ready for anything.’

  ‘And Zach started in reception?’

  ‘Yes. He’s loving it.’

  ‘Where did he go? It’s not the same school as Martha, is it?’

  Jo frowned a little. ‘No. We got him into a little school in Woodside Park. Very outdoorsy, very small, and with lots of personal attention. It seemed to be the best fit for him.’

  ‘I’m sure Martha will miss him. And Miranda. I know she liked the kids to play together.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ said Jo, and her expression hardened. ‘Things change. So how are things with you?’

  ‘Well, pretty much as you see me. Mum’s house is still on the market, but we’ve had an offer. It’s from a property developer, which means it’ll almost certainly be pulled down and replaced with a block of flats. I don’t mind – in fact, I’m quite happy to see it go – but David and Miranda are being a bit sentimental about it. Personally I don’t think we can afford to be picky in this market. I think they’ll agree to accept the offer in the end though.’

  ‘Wow. And how’s your flat?’

  ‘I love it. You must come for a meal. It’s nice now, and not so much like student digs. I have a bed and everything – not just a mattress on the floor. And real plates too.’

  ‘Wow. Real plates. That’s a big step.’

  ‘And while we’re doing a catch-up, I never heard about your New York trip?’

  ‘It was very interesting. We’re not doing a deal with the Americans in the near future – I suppose you’ve worked that out. But the trip helped me to think very hard about the business, and how it’s grown, and what I want it to be. And what I’ve decided is that I want to grow it, but here in the UK, and I want to keep alive the principles that we used to start it. If we get so big that we can’t have great floor staff who care about the kids, or we’re sourcing mass-produced clothes from sweatshops in the Far East, I think we’ll have lost our way.’

  Holly nodded. Maybe Richard had brought a business mind and a cash injection to Jungletown, but there was no doubt that the heart of the company was still all Jo’s.

  ‘Which brings me to you,’ said Jo. ‘I wanted to meet you today for a catch-up, but also to talk about your future, and what you want to do.’

  ‘Ah, now there’s a huge question,’ said Holly, laughing. ‘How long have you got?’

  ‘I thought about it all a lot when I was on holiday. We started Jungletown as a little neighbourhood shop, and it was all a bit amateurish while we found our way. But it’s growing into something different, and I don’t want you or Mel to feel lef
t behind, or that you’re square pegs in round holes, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘I spoke to Mel yesterday, and we’re offering her a promotion to Head of Staff. She won’t work in the shop any more. She’ll be based in the offices in Angel, and then she’ll go around recruiting and training staff whenever we open a store, and visiting stores to make sure the standards remain high.’

  ‘That sounds perfect for Mel.’

  ‘It means quite a lot more money for her, and she deserves it. She’s worked so hard and been so brilliant in making the shop a success.’ Jo paused. ‘And so have you. I could never, ever have done this without you. You created the look and feel of Jungletown’s products, and you set the standard. It’s as much your shop as it is mine.’

  ‘It sounds like there’s a great big “however” coming.’

  ‘Well, there is and there isn’t. I’m here in two capacities today – Jo your boss and Jo your friend. Jo your boss wants to offer you the position of Senior Designer, and the commission to create a new range four times a year. You’d hand over the buying of all outsourced items to Gary. All you’d do is design.’

  ‘That sounds … great.’

  ‘And now I’m hearing a “however” from you too. And this is where Jo your friend wants to say something. Holly, you’ve been to hell and back in the last couple of years … first the whole thing with Damon and your company in South Africa, then your mum. I want to hang on to you with both hands, because you’re an amazing designer and a precious friend, but I have to ask you – what do you want to do? Do you want to design clothes for kids, or should you be launching your own label? What’s the right thing for you? Because that’s what you should choose to do.’

  ‘I don’t know …’ Holly stuttered. ‘I haven’t really thought about it …’

  ‘Of course you have. I know you’re coming into some money from your mum. And I saw pictures of the dress you designed for Serena. You must miss the creative control and the challenge. You’re so talented, Holly, and – I can’t believe I’m saying this – you’re too good to be designing little smocked dresses and dungarees for kids.’

  ‘Richard would have a coronary if he heard you say that.’ Holly smiled.

  ‘Well, he would and he wouldn’t. Under the banker exterior, Richard’s a real softy. He’s all for people following their dreams and being happy.’ She took a gulp of her coffee and looked at her watch. ‘I don’t want an answer from you now. Think about it. Think about what you want to do. You have a place at Jungletown for as long as you want it. But if you choose something different, we’ll cheer you all the way … and be first in line to be your customers.’ She kissed Holly on the cheek and was gone.

  It was a very strange position to be in – absolute freedom to do what she wanted, and the financial wherewithal to do it. Not surprisingly, Holly was paralysed with indecision. But then something happened to make up her mind, at least in the short term – she received a summons to appear as a witness in Damon’s fraud trial in South Africa. She went to Jo and explained the situation.

  ‘They say I would be needed for a few days – a week at most,’ she explained.

  ‘Seems a long way to go for such a short time,’ said Jo. ‘Why don’t you take a few weeks? See some old friends?’

  ‘I can’t take any more time off,’ said Holly. ‘I was away so much when my mum was ill.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Jo. ‘You did amazing work from home. If it makes you feel better, take it as unpaid leave. See it as a sabbatical.’

  A sabbatical, thought Holly. She liked the idea of that. ‘I could also meet with some suppliers,’ she said. ‘Make some contacts for Gary. Right in the beginning, we did talk about sourcing some stuff from South African cooperatives.’

  ‘That would be great,’ said Jo.

  Once she had decided to go, and tentatively emailed a few South African friends, Holly started to get excited. As the weather got colder and the nights longer in London, she thought about spring in Johannesburg. She imagined lying on a lawn in the sun in the shade of a jacaranda tree. She thought about barbecues by the swimming pool and summer evenings drinking wine. All of the friends she emailed replied enthusiastically, and Pierre, her old housemate, who had bought a house with his husband in an upmarket area called Parkview, invited her to stay. She started thinking about going to see some African designers, getting ideas, maybe shopping for fabric at the Plaza … the more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t wait. She hadn’t realised how much she had missed South Africa. The awfulness with Damon had clouded everything, but before he wrecked things, she had been happy there. She had loved the lifestyle, the sun and the crazy, entrepreneurial spirit of the city.

  One evening, as she sat in her flat with her feet on the radiator doing some sketches for the Jungletown spring range, she heard the Skype ringtone on her laptop. It was Pierre, and she clicked to answer the call. He had his webcam on, and she could see he was sitting on the wide veranda of his new house. She could hear the night-time crickets chirping in the background, and Pierre was lounging in shorts and a T-shirt.

  ‘My darling!’ he cheered, when he saw her come up on his webcam. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Cold. Cold and wet and miserable. I can’t wait to get on a plane and come to you,’ she said.

  ‘Everyone is so excited to see you. I’ve had about a million calls to ask if you’re coming back to stay.’

  ‘No. I wish!’ Holly laughed.

  ‘Well, why not?’ Pierre said. ‘You’ve got a work permit. Once the trial is finished, your name will be clear, and everyone is always talking about how much they miss Doradolla, and how they’d love to be able to buy those dresses again. There was even a retrospective in a magazine the other day … “Beautiful things we miss”.’

  ‘That’s very flattering, but it’s not really compelling market research …’ said Holly.

  ‘Well, come and see for yourself. I think you’d have an amazing time.’

  ‘I’m supposed to be buying a house in London and building a grown-up career …’

  ‘So? Come and do it here. God knows, you’ll get a much better house for your pounds here than you’d get in London. You could buy a mansion!’

  Holly just laughed.

  ‘Ja, ja,’ said Pierre, ‘laugh at me. But we’re going to start the propaganda campaign when you get here. Now listen, my skattie, I didn’t phone you just to chat. We need to make some plans, because right now you’ve been invited to at least two parties every night of your trip. Have you got your diary?’

  Moving back to South Africa. Could she do it? Did she want to? She didn’t know. Pierre painted a very tempting picture, and he was right, she would get more for her money there than in the UK. Also, surely it would be much harder to launch a fashion label in huge, design-saturated, jaded London than in Johannesburg? What was holding her back? It wasn’t as if her family needed her, and while she had friends, they all had lives of their own. About the only thing that stood in her way was Fraser.

  Actually, what stood in her way were her feelings for Fraser. She hadn’t bargained on falling for him, but she had. He was warm and funny and easy to be with, and she found him irresistibly sexy, not in the domineering, powerful way Damon was sexy, but in a different way. He was disarming and charming, and would spend hours pleasuring her sexually, making her come and come, and then he’d make her laugh with his terrible jokes, and then cook her a fabulous dinner. Fraser had shown her that a relationship didn’t need to be edgy and dramatic and unpredictable to be romantic and fulfilling. It could be safe, and fun, and the other person could be reliable and still keep her interest. She thought it was possible that she might be falling in love with him, but what he felt for her was hard to say.

  It was very frustrating. He was always lovely to her. He rang when he said he would, was affectionate and caring and seemed to be very interested, but they were still only seeing each other a few times a week. He hadn’t aske
d her to meet Finlay again, or talked about the future, and he definitely hadn’t mentioned the L-word. He seemed happy to keep things on a fairly casual basis, and Holly, afraid of ruining things when they were going so well, resisted the urge to push the issue.

  She had to accept that it was a casual relationship, that was all, and as a sensible, adult woman, she couldn’t factor it into her decision-making process. She decided that she would go to South Africa with a totally open mind. She’d investigate the possibility of resurrecting Doradolla, look at some houses and generally get a feel for life there. Then she’d be able to weigh it against the options she had here in the UK.

  On the day she was due to fly out, she arranged to meet Fraser for a late lunch in a riverside pub in Putney.

  ‘I hate goodbyes,’ she told him. ‘We’ll have a giggle, drink too much wine and then I’ll drag my case over Putney Bridge and get on the Tube.’

  ‘You had me at “drink too much wine”,’ said Fraser. ‘I’ll leave the car at home.’

  He looked very handsome in a nicely tailored shirt in a dark plum. If Holly had done nothing else for him, she thought, she seemed to have improved his dress sense and got him to wear some more adventurous colours. He ordered a bottle of champagne, and they shared a seafood platter. Chat was easy and they laughed and shared a few delicious, garlic-buttery kisses. After Fraser’s second glass, he took her hand.

  ‘I want you to have an amazing time,’ he said. ‘I’m so envious … you’re going into summer while we head down the long dark road into winter.’

  Holly waited for him to say something more, but he smiled, took a big gulp of his wine and said, ‘The world is your oyster, my lovely Miss Evans, and you’re the pearl.’

  ‘I don’t know what that means.’

  ‘It means … I know that you’re going to have a very enthusiastic welcoming committee in Johannesburg. I know it’ll be very tempting to stay, and I want you to know that I support you in doing what’s best for you. Because I care about you. And I want you to be happy.’