A Crime of Fashion

by Carina Axelsson

  Sebastian and I walked to the small park in the middle of the Place des Vosges. Happily, today I had no fashion show or photo shoot to rush off to, no cockroach-infested tunnel to explore. The rest of the day was mine to enjoy as I saw fit. It was still, warm and windless, not a cloud in the sky, although the night’s rain had left large puddles. They lay like mirrors in the sandy gravel of the pathways, reflecting the tidy shapes of the clipped trees and the impressive facade of the old buildings surrounding the square. Silently we continued, our steps falling into an easy rhythm, as we headed towards the cathedral of Notre Dame.

  I was thinking about when I’d see Sebastian again. I’d been so focused on solving the mystery that I hadn’t thought further than last night. But now, mission accomplished, I suddenly realized that I had no reason to see him after my train pulled out tomorrow. A feeling of emptiness hit me with a force that took me by surprise. We’d become friends, so of course I’d miss him – and I’d come to depend on him. But…was there more to it than that?

  “Are you okay?” He was smiling at me, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. Did he have to look so gorgeous?

  “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

  “Seriously, Axelle, don’t you think you’ve done enough thinking for one week? Just relax. Look,” he said, pointing to the river.

  The Seine was moving rapidly, the dark, swirling water slapping against the side of the stone bank with reassuring enthusiasm. Seagulls screeched and swooped above us while tour boats chugged slowly past, their modern white shapes barely fitting under the centuries-old bridges spanning the river. When we reached the Notre Dame we stopped to admire its romantic bulk from the quayside. Finally, we climbed back up onto the road, crossed the nearest bridge, and joined the queue at Berthillon, the famous ice-cream maker. As we crossed back over the bridge, ice creams in hand, Sebastian suggested we stop midway to look at the view.

  The sun was beginning to drop, its late afternoon light bathing the stone bridges and buildings in a soft yellow-orange haze of warmth. Sebastian was surprisingly quiet, and it dawned on me that since we’d left the hotel he’d been watching me in a funny way. Well, maybe not funny, but differently, anyhow, to the way he normally looked at me. Not that it was uncomfortable or anything…it was just…I don’t know…different.

  I tried to look discreetly down at my chest, thinking that maybe I’d spilled some ice cream. Slowly, though, a funny, fuzzy feeling at the back of my brain started to kick in and my palms began to sweat. Pulling my eyes away from his, I quickly turned back to the water.

  “Axelle?”

  I began to panic. I mean, like, what if he wanted to kiss me or something? This was one scenario I was absolutely NOT prepared for. Not at all. I mean, of course I liked him, but I’d had so much on my mind all week that canoodling with a hot French guy just hadn’t really entered into it.

  Okay. Maybe that was a tiny lie. I mean, there’d been a few moments, in between the cockroaches and rats, when I’d thought…

  “Axelle, I’ve had an amazing time with you this week,” he began, hastening to add, “solving this mystery and all…”

  Okay. I was seriously panicking now. Questions raced through my mind: what did he want? What did I want? Did I want to kiss him? Why was I so sure that he wanted to kiss me? Don’t think so much, Axelle, I could hear Jenny saying, just go with the flow. Yeah, easy for her to say! His hand was coming towards me…gently he swept back the hair from my right cheek and pushed it behind my ear.

  Taking my chin in his hand, he turned my face back to his and leaned in. I began to hyperventilate. This hadn’t been part of my plan, this had nothing to do with anything, this was just… Hmmm…this wasn’t so bad. Cautiously, once my body had told my brain to stuff it, I leaned forward and kissed Sebastian back.

  Everything slipped from my mind: the La Lunes, the cockroaches, my sore shoulder – even my mum. All I was aware of was the feel of his lips, his smell, his hands on my waist and back. Every caress, every nuance in his movements shot through me till I was dizzy, until all that mattered was him.

  His hands slowly moved up my back to my neck. If he hadn’t been holding me, I think I’d have fallen into the river.

  And then my phone rang.

  And rang.

  And rang.

  WHY NOW? And who was it?

  Shut up! Shut up, I told myself. You’re going with the flow, remember?

  I ignored my phone and leaned harder into Sebastian. Kissing him felt amazing. He tasted good and smelled good and I could have kept kissing him for hours – and maybe would have if my phone hadn’t rung again.

  ARGH!

  It couldn’t be my mum. With romance on the cards she wouldn’t have rung me even if Ralph Lauren, Giorgio Armani and Coco Chanel, back from the grave, had called her asking to speak to me. It couldn’t have been Jenny, we’d spoken this morning, and Ellie was doing the Sonia Rykiel show…so it must be someone else…it must be work. Hervé, maybe? During the shows the agencies were open on the weekends too. It must be Hervé.

  I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my phone. As unobtrusively as possible, I switched it to silent – and saw the tiny blinking screen. It was Miriam. What could she want?

  I felt Sebastian laugh as he pulled away.

  “Go on,” he said with a grin, “answer it.” Unlike Dom, he seemed to find the interruption amusing. “It’s probably important.”

  “Axelle, is that you? I’m sorry to call you today, you must be exhausted,” Miriam said in her usual breathless, upbeat manner. “But listen, the phone has been ringing non-stop with questions about you. The fashion brigade is desperate to work with you, but we can discuss all of that on Monday.” There was a short pause before she continued. “There was a call, however, which was just put through to me…and I thought you might be interested to hear about it now.” I heard her reshuffle the notes on her desk. “It was New York calling…”

  Oh no, I thought, more photos. I was just about to say that this could wait until Monday too, when Miriam continued:

  “Have you ever heard of the ‘Black Amelia’?”

  “No.”

  “It’s the most famous black diamond in the world. Chic: New York is – was – using it on a shoot, but…” Her voice trailed off.

  “But?”

  “It’s missing…”

  If you want to blend in with the fashion set, it’s worth learning the lingo. Here’s a handy guide:

  BOOK: This is another word for the all-important portfolio models have. A book or portfolio is used to show clients and designers both how a model looks in photos, and what kind of work they’ve done.

  BOOKER: A staff member at an agency whose job is to handle requests from clients and to represent and set up appointments for models.

  CLEAN CLEAN: This is how a model should show up for a photo shoot: with freshly washed hair and a clean, make-up free face. Clients often specify clean, clean.

  FITTING: A session that may take place before a fashion show or photo shoot where the clothes to be modelled are fitted onto the model.

  GO-SEE: An appointment for a model to see a photographer or a client. Unlike a casting, there is no specific brief.

  HAUTE COUTURE: Pronounced “oat-ko-chure” this phrase is French for “high-fashion”. Couture is extremely high-end, tailor-made designer clothes that only a few dozen people in the world can afford.

  LIGHT METER: A device used to measure the intensity of light for a photo. Photographers or their assistants will hold a light meter up in front of the model before taking the photograph.

  LOCATION: Any place, other than in a studio, where a shoot takes place.

  NEW FACES: Models who are new to the business.

  OPTIONS: An option is put to a model by a client to see if he/she would be available for their shoot. Options are then either confirmed as a booking, or released.

  STORYBOARD: A comic-like piece of artwork that shows a frame-by-frame depiction of a photo shoot in drawing
s.

  TEAR SHEETS: These are photos which are literally torn from magazines, and which a model can use in her book. Tear sheets from magazines like Vogue and Elle are what every model hopes to have in her book.

  ZED CARD or COMPOSITE CARD: This is basically a business card for models. A5 in size, zed cards or composites normally show at least two photos, as well as basic info such as a model’s hair colour, eye colour, height and agency contact details.

  And if anyone’s still suspicious that you don’t belong, just throw in one of these handy phrases…

  “I love those boots! Whose are they?”

  “Wow, you’re really working that hat!”

  “Feathers are a must have this fall.”

  “It’s all about accessorizing right now.”

  “I’m loving emerald green.”

  “Punk is so of the moment.”

  “Neon just screams 1999.”

  “Grey is the new black.”

  “Velvet is so important this season.”

  “I absolutely love Paris and had a blast living there. The city’s architecture, history and culture never fail to amaze me. Of course, the wonderful food might also have something to do with it! I’m often asked for my favourite places to visit – so here they are.”

  THE LOUVRE: As one of the world’s largest museums it would take weeks of visiting to do the LOUVRE justice. But when the culture junkie in me needs a quick fix I head straight to THE FOUR SEASONS by NICOLAS POUSSIN (they hang in their own room). Totally uplifting!

  MUSÉE DE LA CHASSE ET DE LA NATURE: I love dogs! And was therefore delighted when I discovered this QUIRKY little museum that is definitely off the beaten track. Housed in a GORGEOUS seventeenth-century mansion, and located in the lively Marais, this museum is jam-packed with animal portraits.

  SENNELIER: I often think that if Harry Potter’s Diagon Alley had an art-supply shop, it would look like this. Established in 1887, and still run by the Sennelier family, every nook and cranny of this creaky, wood-panelled shop is stocked with the PRETTIEST, YUMMIEST, most SCRUMPTIOUS collection of pastels, pencils, paper, feather quills, Japanese watercolours, exotic papers and anything else your artistic heart could possibly desire.

  BERTHILLON: If you like ICE CREAM, this is it. And while the weekend queues wind around the block, no worries. With a view of the Notre Dame and the Seine River swirling past, the time will fly! Located on the ENCHANTING Ile St. Louis, take a walk around the island as you finish your ice cream.

  LADURÉE: A peek at the windows of this YUMMYLICIOUS patisserie alone are a treat! And while Ladurée shops now dot many cities worldwide, the original at 16, rue Royale is the one I like. Their MACARONS are my favourite: I find it impossible to leave Paris without a BEAUTIFUL Ladurée box filled with a selection of colourful macarons. And if I’m really hungry I’ll go upstairs to their pretty little salon for tea.

  THE TUILERIES GARDENS: As far as I’m concerned, a visit to Paris isn’t complete without a walk through the Tuileries Gardens. Either end is a good place to start. Walk all the way through, the palace courtyards included. The views, SPLASHING FOUNTAINS, and elegant design make it LOVELY any time of the year.

  PLACE DES VOSGES: Known as the oldest planned square in Paris, the Place de Vosges OOZES history – and the prettily planted centre of the square is a lovely place to catch some SUN. Just don’t forget the ICE CREAM.

  www.usborne.com/fiction

  First published in the UK in 2014 by Usborne Publishing Ltd., Usborne House, 83-85 Saffron Hill, London EC1N 8RT, England. www.usborne.com

  Copyright © 2014 by Carina Axelsson

  Cover illustration by Yusuf Doganay

  Author photo by Anne-Marie Mulot

  The right of Carina Axelsson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  The name Usborne and the devices are Trade Marks of Usborne Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or used in any way except as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or loaned or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ePub ISBN 9781409579335

  Batch no. 02990-02