Shopping with the Enemy

by Carmen Reid

  Instead, there was calm, tidy space, plus their bed loaded with snowy white pillows and linen, twinkling with fairy lights, which Ed had strung over the headboard.

  ‘Wow …’ she said, running her fingers over the nearest chest of drawers and wondering at the pristine surface. ‘Where did it all go?’

  ‘I sorted and stored, I threw away – just the rubbish, though. Don’t start worrying.’

  ‘You sorted and stored? You – the king of clutter?’

  ‘I can be surprisingly tidy and organized when I put my mind to it.’

  ‘You can. It’s amazing. It looks totally, totally beautiful,’ she gushed, ‘I’d have picked this colour myself. It’s absolutely perfect.’

  ‘Annie, I’ve seen the paint charts lying around. Your hints were getting a little loud.’

  On one of the bedside tables, more fairy lights had been artfully arranged in a large glass vase.

  ‘Tell me that was Dinah,’ Annie said, and pointed, ‘or I’m going to worry about you. I’m going to worry that you’re about to leave teaching, burn all your tweed jackets and become an interior designer.’

  ‘That …’ he leaned over to kiss her, ‘was definitely Dinah.’

  ‘It’s so beautiful and so clean! I can’t take it in.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d think it looked very, very sexy. I was hoping you’d walk in here, be bowled over by all my hard work and think: “I must reward this man right now”.’

  Ed put his arms around her waist and pulled her in close.

  ‘I was thinking that …’ she took a proper close look at her husband, teasing smile in place, ‘I was thinking just how inviting that fluffy white bed looked.’

  ‘Sexy,’ Ed reminded her.

  They kissed and she felt her body melt against his. It was so good to be home, back with her family, right back at home with Ed. The very best thing about getting caught up in a Svetlana adventure was that it made normal, safe, sane home life feel just fine.

  ‘Just absolutely fine,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  Ed ran his fingers between her shoulder blades and that was enough to send a shiver of pleasure down to the base of Annie’s spine, and now she definitely wasn’t too tired.

  ‘One more thing,’ he said, breaking off from the kiss: ‘I haven’t shown you the best bit.’

  ‘No, you definitely haven’t.’

  He stepped away from her and walked towards the bedroom door.

  ‘Look,’ he said, turning the handle and pushing the door shut.

  To Annie’s surprise, it stayed closed and the handle didn’t disintegrate and fall onto the floor.

  ‘I can hardly believe it!’ she told him. ‘But you didn’t mend it yourself this time, did you?’

  ‘No, a handier handyman than me may have been involved.’

  ‘A closed door … a mended handle, a dog and toddler-free room …’ Annie said, letting herself fall backwards onto the plump and inviting bed, ‘what more could any girl want?’

  ‘Just let me know,’ Ed offered.

  ‘Come over here …’

  ‘We need to start practising for our mini-break,’ he said, moving to the bed and lying down beside her.

  ‘I will book us a mini-break. I promise.’

  ‘You’ve already promised. Now I need locations, Annie, plus dates and reservations.’

  ‘Definitely …’

  Just as the kissing began, Annie’s mobile, abandoned on the bedside table, burst into life.

  ‘Ignore,’ Ed said, as she pulled away from him.

  ‘Shouldn’t I just …?’

  ‘No. I can promise it will be your fascist production assistant. Have you forgotten about her and her late-night schedule-anxiety phone calls?’

  ‘It’s a bit late even for her.’

  Annie pulled out of his arms and reached for the phone, ‘I’ll only answer if it’s … Lana?’

  Annie sat up and gave the phone her full attention now: ‘What’s up?’ she asked her daughter. ‘How are you?’

  For a moment, Annie only heard gasping, choking sounds as Lana struggled to talk through a storm of tears.

  ‘What’s wrong? Are you OK?’

  Ed was sitting up too now, face full of concern.

  ‘It’s the print!’ Lana managed. ‘We got him to tell us. It’s a copy. That East End designer: PoliPolka. You gave Dad a scarf, remember?’

  ‘Oh yes … oh no! That’s it!’

  ‘That’s why we’d seen it before. He thought he’d changed it enough. He thought he was paying homage, not copying. I don’t think he meant any harm. Oh the stupid arse! I could just kill him! The print is too like the original. Some of the dresses have already sold. It’s a disaster. It’s a total disaster. What are we going to do?!’

  For several moments, Annie just let the news register. Hadn’t Svetlana said that Lana would come running back to her after their argument? Now that it was happening, there was nothing good about it. Annie didn’t feel like gloating or saying ‘I told you so,’ or ‘I knew this would end in tears’.

  She felt really sorry for Lana. She didn’t just want to make it all right: she wanted to help Lana make it all right.

  After listening to Lana vent her full upset and anger, Annie couldn’t offer an easy solution. The best she could suggest was that they all tried to think of a good way out.

  ‘I’m going to go now so I can think too, but I’ll phone you back just as soon as I can.’

  ‘OK … soon, Mum,’ Lana said tearfully.

  Once Annie had ended the call she looked at her husband and put a hand tenderly against his cheek.

  ‘Oh dear … I get the gist, big trouble in the Big Apple,’ he said.

  She really did owe Ed a mini-break and her absolute full attention.

  ‘I love you,’ she told him, ‘and I take you totally for granted. But that’s family life, isn’t it? We’re pulled in fifteen different directions every minute of the blinking day.’

  ‘Uh-oh, this doesn’t sound good …’

  ‘I think Lana and NY Perfect Dress need my help.’

  ‘Not in New York?’ Ed groaned.

  ‘Maybe in New York … very likely in New York, but right now, I need you,’ – she landed a kiss on his mouth – ‘so can we just try and concentrate on that?’

  Chapter Forty-Six

  New York

  Lana fully Lana-ish:

  Tight grey skinny jeans (Diesel)

  Latest white chiffon tunic (NY Perfect Dress)

  Grey pinstriped waistcoat (flea market find)

  Pendant in silver with semi-precious stones (Monica Vinader)

  Black peep-toe, so cool, heeled sandals (Shoe Warehouse)

  Clips to hold fringe out of face (drugstore)

  Total est. cost: $128

  AS ANNIE STEPPED from her yellow cab on Fifth Avenue, Manhattan, all traces of jet lag were blasted away by the breathtaking wow of this city.

  Even though she’d visited many times before, New York was always bigger, better, louder, brighter, brasher than she remembered: like an adrenalin shot direct to the heart.

  She wanted to throw up her arms and ‘woooo hoooo’ at the vast skyscrapers, the jammed lanes of traffic, the jangle of noise and the wide sidewalks packed with New Yorkers marching purposefully along on this gorgeous June day.

  But instead of shouting, Annie grinned from ear to ear, paid her cab fare, shouldered her handbag, clicked out the handle of her trolley bag and began to speed straight for the Perfect Dress office.

  According to her body-clock it was 9 p.m., but stepping out onto the sunshine of Fifth at 3 p.m. New York time, she felt instantly revived, all set for work and a whole evening of cocktail bar hopping afterwards.

  As soon as she was buzzed through the doors of the office block, she took the lift – no, make that elevator – up to the 47th floor. Then she walked along the corridor looking for the door to office number 4712. When she found it, she gave a little tap, but walked in without w
aiting for an answer.

  ‘Hello and how is everyone at Perfect Dress?’

  ‘Oh Mum!’

  Lana leapt up from her desk and rushed over to greet her.

  ‘Lana, babes,’ Annie sighed, throwing her arms around her daughter, ‘it’s so good to see you.’

  And it was. For a moment, Annie kept a tight hold, telling Lana: ‘Look at you, I can’t really bear that you’re over here doing all this growing up without me.’

  Her face was pressed against Lana’s silky hair and as Annie thought of all the love, all the hugs, disagreements, conversations and all the time that had passed between them, the angry argument dissolved. She and her daughter would always, always find a way back to each other. No matter what might have been said or done.

  ‘It’s lovely to see you,’ Annie croaked because of the lump in her throat.

  ‘But it’s so sad,’ Lana said when the hug was finally over. ‘Look at us, we’re packing up. It’s all over! Perfect Dress is finished. The copied print was the final straw for Svetlana; she’s pulled the plug and closed us down.’

  Now Annie looked properly around the office and saw Elena and Gracie at their desks packing files into boxes and dismantling the computers. Everyone had long, glum faces and Gracie’s eyes looked tearful.

  ‘You’re joking!’ Annie exclaimed. ‘Was this decided while I was on the plane?’

  ‘We get the call an hour ago,’ Elena said.

  ‘But I’ve come up with an answer,’ Annie protested, ‘I’ve thought of a way to solve the print problem – and what about Arlene Henderson? Hasn’t she been in touch? Doesn’t she still want to order dresses from the new line?’

  ‘Svetlana says we are to finish. She’s not going to back the company any more. It’s over,’ Elena replied.

  ‘You’re joking …’ Annie sat down on the nearest chair and tried to take in this news.

  ‘You’re too late, Mum.’

  ‘But I can’t be too late!’ she insisted. ‘Do you have any idea how much schedule arranging I’ve done to get here for three days?! Filming’s been rearranged; Dinah’s been rearranged … Ed … even Owen has given up drum practice to babysit! It can’t be too late.’ She clenched her hand into a fist: ‘It’s never too late, not when catwalktoyou.com wants to buy into your line.’

  ‘Too late, Mum,’ Lana repeated, ‘it’s too late. I’ll have to come home … I’ll have to go to Dagenham Technical College.’

  The defeat in Lana’s voice made Annie want to cry. But seeing her daughter look so lost and unhappy also made her want to jump into action.

  ‘Now girls,’ she began, ‘you are just going to have to listen to me. It’s time to put up a fight. If something’s worth having, then it’s worth fighting for. No good thing ever came easy – well, not in my experience anyway. You’re right on the brink of success here, you can’t just fall at the last hurdle.’

  ‘But we could be sued over those dresses,’ Gracie protested. ‘Svetlana said if we’re not in business then we can’t be sued. Oh, I wish I’d never, ever met Parker Bain. If I ever see him again, I’m going to punch him in the face!’

  ‘And he so likes you,’ Lana chipped in, ‘And he’s so sorry—’

  ‘Forget it,’ Gracie replied.

  ‘We can’t be sued if the designer of the original pattern thinks it’s flattering to be copied,’ Annie replied. ‘So that’s our first mission.’

  ‘Flattering? But how …?’ Elena began.

  ‘OK, Lana,’ Annie interrupted, ‘I have the number for PoliPolka headquarters. You are going to phone them up and ask to speak to the boss, she’s called Susie Fellows and apparently she’s incredibly nice. Tell her that a “homage” to one of her designs has made it onto a small run of your dresses by mistake. And assure her it won’t happen again because next time, you’re going to commission her directly to design a print for you – and mention that catwalktoyou.com are buying.

  ‘Just to keep her totally sweet, I want you to tell her that you have a brilliant contact on the TV programme How To Be Fabulous. There’s a new guest slot for small designers and you’re sure you can get her on.’

  Lana gasped: ‘Really? You think it will work?’

  Annie nodded. ‘I’m sure it will work.’

  ‘I don’t think I could make that call,’ Lana hesitated. ‘You’d be much better at it, Mum, or Elena. Surely it should be Elena?’

  ‘Lana, you want to work in fashion, right?’ Annie asked. ‘You want to be going places with a company that’s really going places?’

  Lana nodded.

  Annie gave her daughter a loving and deeply encouraging look. Lana was getting older, growing up; she looked sophisticated and beautifully dressed, but she had to let go of all her little girl insecurities and step up to adult-sized responsibility. Annie was right here to give her the push.

  ‘OK, babes, you’re making the call,’ Annie said, handing her the card with the phone number: ‘time to man up.’

  Lana took the card and her face changed from doubtful to determined.

  ‘Gracie, it could be time to unpack,’ Annie suggested. ‘Start getting the office ready for business again.’

  ‘OK!’ Gracie replied with a grin.

  ‘Elena, my darlin’, you’ve got a difficult call to make too.’

  ‘Not Svetlana …’ Elena protested.

  ‘Yes, Svetlana. You’ve got to ask her for one more chance. You’ve got to tell her that we’re all going to work together, no more bolting off to do things on our own. We’re a team now.’

  Everyone nodded solemnly.

  ‘We’ll put the copied print right,’ Annie added, ‘and call a meeting with catwalktoyou.com. We need our best negotiator at that meeting and we all know who that is: the only person in the world who can get Igor Wisneski to do exactly as she wants.’

  ‘I do not think Svetlana will give us another chance,’ Elena said, ‘I think we already blew our last chance.’

  ‘Yes, you probably did. But we’re the Mothers, we’re always, always going to want you to pick yourselves up after you’ve fallen down again.’

  ‘I don’t know …’

  ‘Elena – if your mother even thinks about not agreeing, then remind her that she owes me one favour,’ Annie said. ‘She promised I would get one favour, which she wouldn’t be allowed to refuse, no matter what it was. So I’m asking her to give NY Perfect Dress a chance. And the best chance for NY Perfect Dress is to have the three of you in the New York office and Svetlana leading the negotiations.’

  ‘C’mon,’ Annie clapped her hands, ‘what are you all waiting for? Time to make it happen!’

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  New York

  Arlene’s high fashion rules:

  Peach satin sleeveless dress (Hussein Chalayan)

  Peach metallic ballet flats (Lanvin)

  Pale grey leather jacket (Rick Owens)

  Tan boxy shoulder bag (Reed Krakoff)

  Diamond spider ring (Irit Design)

  Total est. cost: $12,000

  ‘SHE’S LATE!’ LANA wailed, ‘How can she possibly be late? This is the most important meeting of my entire life and my boss is late.’

  Annie risked a peek at her watch, although she had a feeling she knew what it would say.

  It was 10.02 a.m. She felt sick.

  Annie had been listening to Elena lecture them all on the American obsession with punctuality for the past seventeen minutes. That’s how long she, Elena and Lana had been standing outside at the foot of the vast stone staircase which led to the soaring tower block where catwalktoyou.com HQ was located.

  ‘We are dead. This is over,’ Elena said, her voice simmering with rage. ‘Svetlana strikes again. That woman! She must have changed her mind! Maybe she still wants to close down Perfect Dress but she wants to humiliate us one last time!’

  ‘Shhh …’ Annie said, trying to be calming. But after seventeen whole minutes of trying to soothe rapidly fraying nerves, she was all out of calming. P
lus, it was infuriating. And so Svetlana. Annie didn’t think Svetlana could have changed her mind – surely not now, at the very last minute? But the Queen Bee of drama queens always had to make an entrance.

  Annie took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. No one had been able to reach Svetlana by phone, but maybe she had a genuine excuse.

  Maybe the boys …?

  Her heart gave a momentary flutter of anxiety. No. Surely Annie couldn’t be asked to join in with a kidnapper chase again? No, it just couldn’t be the boys. Igor had been placated, the boys were safe.

  Annie looked round at the Perfect Dress team. They were all in their absolute best. Everyone had made a huge effort for this meeting and they were completely worthy of an interview. They had assembled at the Perfect Dress office two hours earlier where Gracie had styled everyone’s outfit, tweaked make-up, added accessories and wished them all the very best luck in the world. She’d decided to stay and man the phones because she was too nervous to come to the presentation.

  ‘Already puking with fear,’ she’d told them. ‘Please make this work or you know I will be looking for that job in a lawyer’s office.’ Plus, she’d admitted there was one phone call she had to make: ‘If it all works out, maybe I’ll call Parker and listen to his grovelling apology and accept the offer of a date – but only if it works out!’

  Annie and Lana were in Perfect Chic tunics, dressed up with careful hairstyles, best make-up, leggings and seriously good shoes. Lana wore her lucky, dotty Mary Janes and Annie tottered on electric-blue suede sandals which were manna from shoe heaven but when it came to actually walking; well, they were presenting a challenge.

  Elena, perhaps to please her mother, had gone Perfect Dress ‘classic’ with a slubby taffeta button-down dress in a shade of lime green which made her clear skin, blonde hair and grey-green eyes dazzle in an extraordinary way.

  Where was Svetlana?!

  ‘Do you think we should go on ahead?’ Annie wondered. ‘Should we let Ms Henderson know that something has happened?’

  Elena shrugged. ‘I don’t think she will even take our call. She is an extremely busy lady and we are LATE.’