We also started discussing other matters, such as school, boyfriends, family relationships, and how difficult it was being a teenager. Both Ritchie and I felt very sympathetic to her and, on more than one occasion, we looked each other in the eye and started laughing. “What’s happening? What did I say?” Harry would enquire and we would explain to her that we’d both been there. Ritchie usually was the one spitting out the anecdotes, from both of us, while I was slightly more reserved.
Eventually I had to tell her that her father was a person of interest and I was dating him. That didn’t seem to upset her. On the contrary, she proposed that one day we should hang out together. We actually met her father on a couple of occasions and she received his thumbs-up on the new style, which made her extremely happy.
A couple of weeks down the line, Lady Inquisitive caught Ritchie on the stairs and asked how things were progressing, and when she’d be able to see some results. The little coward didn’t have the heart to tell her that actually we’d already passed the initial stage and Harry had been wearing the new outfits for a week. We needed to do something, so we regrouped in one of the rooms upstairs and worked out a plan.
“It’s not going to be easy,” said Harry. “The FOP will hate everything with her guts.”
“Not necessarily,” I added. “Maybe if we present the work in the right way, introduce your new style to her in the right way, she might not like it, but at least she won’t complain too much.”
I needed to see Lady “PainInTheNeck” as soon as possible and face her. Where is Vulcan Jarvis when you need him to appear? I went downstairs and knocked on her studio door. Lady Busy was at the computer and flicking through papers when I entered. What she was doing was a mystery: she didn’t have a job – blimey, she’d never had to earn a living in her entire life – but nonetheless she made her best impression of a multinational CEO.
“Ermm … I was wondering if you’d have time this afternoon to see the results of our work.”
“I’d be delighted,” said Lady Expectancy. “GiGi, maybe you have a few minutes to spare? I’m going through these invoices, and I see you’ve worked hard to get a new wardrobe for Henrietta.”
“We have indeed, and she loves it,” I cautiously added, as something seemed to be bothering her.
“About that: there are a number of names on these invoices that I don’t recognise. Kane, Bregazzi, Holland … what happened to the famous designers such as Valentino, Versace and so on?”
How could I have explained to her? Harry was a teen and sometimes what is good for the mother is not necessarily good for the daughter. Henrietta needed to find her own style; at that age individuality was everything.
“Maybe we can show you something later on, in the afternoon?”
“What about now?” asked Lady Nosey.
“Sure, why not? Here or in the lounge?”
“Let’s do it in the lounge.”
“OK,” I said, “give us a few minutes to get ready.”
I ran upstairs and the news didn’t go down well. Ritchie started pulling together clothes, running left, right and centre, pulling out shoes and then discarding them. Harry was on her bed, texting or Facebooking and barely paying any attention to our efforts. “She’s gonna hate it,” she said in a very flat voice, without diverting her eyes from the phone.
“OK, here’s the plan. Ritchie, you choose the first outfit; I’ll sit in the lounge with Paula and give her an introduction. Then Harry comes in, OK?”
“Roger that.”
Come on, Griselda – you can do it! I’d had some difficult customers in the past and on occasion I went a bit wild, but I knew what I was doing. Eventually, they understood what I was proposing to them and appreciated it; why should this be any different?
I gave the news to the team and off we went downstairs, ready for the show. I sat on the sofa near Lady Impatient and started describing the approach I had followed, building from Harry’s previous attire and … and she stopped me mid-sentence, showing me the palm of her hand.
“Whenever you’re ready, guys,” I said from where I was, maybe a bit louder than I wanted. I could hear them getting ready, and ta-da … here was Harry in her fabulous new look.
Lady Incredulity looked at her walking into the room and kept moving her head left and right, as if she was observing an imaginary Ping Pong match – or maybe because she was disapproving. She turned toward me and said, “Is this a joke?”
“No, Madam, I assure you it is not.”
Lady PissedOff was not amused: not one bit. She jumped to her feet and started saying this was outrageous; we had spent an awful amount of money to transform her daughter into an unpresentable kid; she would not tolerate being ridiculed by her friends over this. I tried to interject, but she stopped me again. I started getting annoyed.
It was at that point that Harry interjected. Still looking at her phone, she said, “Dad seemed to like it.”
“You mean that you lot showed this to my ex-husband before I had seen it? How dare you!”
“GiGi is dating him, so why not?” added the little snake, her eyes still on the phone, probably tweeting her mother’s rant as she spoke. I quite liked her; she had personality.
But that sealed it; Vulcan Jarvis suddenly appeared and accompanied us to the door. From the lounge we could still hear her screaming, “… never pay them for this eyesore…” and then, “They’ll never find another job, I promise.”
It was time to leave.
CHAPTER 17
“What just happened?” asked Ritchie as soon as the door had closed behind us.
“Beats me,” I answered, “Lady Complacent seemed ecstatic at our work, and then suddenly she changed her mind. Must have been the tea.”
“GiGi, this is no time for jokes. If she really isn’t going to pay us …”
“I don’t think she’ll go that far. Come on, we did a great job, Harry loves us to pieces; she’s going to be a star among her friends.”
Ritchie was far from convinced, or I should say, he was panicking. “GiGi, if we don’t get that money … I need it. I have rent to pay.”
“Give her a day or two; she’ll come to her senses.” I wasn’t convinced and I even sounded false when I heard my own voice saying it. But, what could I do? We had done the right thing; we’d stuck to our principles, right?
The phone rang; it was Jasper. “GiGi, what have you done?”
“Good news travels fast, doesn’t it?” Ritchie was giving me looks, so I mouthed “Jasper”.
“Harry called me. She’s thrilled, but I’m not sure whether that’s because of your work or because you upset Paula.”
“Can one go without the other?”
“You have to tread carefully, GiGi, Paula can be a powerful enemy.” Ritchie, in the meantime, was doing his best impression of a landing signal officer, moving his arms up and down trying to catch my attention.
“I’m sure she’ll understand, in a day or two.” But I was far from being sure.
Ask him to take us! We need a job! Ritchie was miming; I turned to look the other way.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. She can be a frightful bitch when she wants.”
“OK, I got it. What should I do?” I asked, Ritchie was panicking and started poking me on the shoulder to get my attention.
“If she’s as upset as I think she is, run and hide. She’ll do everything she can to ruin your career. I think she knows some of your customers as well, right?” There was a sense of urgency in Jasper’s voice, as if he was really worried about what could happen.
“She’s not going to put a bounty on my head, is she?” I tried to ease off the feeling that I was in big trouble, but I wasn’t able to convince myself, let alone anyone else.
“GiGi, you know how these things work. Word of mouth, and if you’ve upset someone like Paula, you’re doomed. She’s got all the right connections.” It was official. I was stuffed.
“OK – let me think about something and I’ll call you ba
ck, all right?”
“Sure. Catch you later. I also have to go; we’re opening soon. You sure you don’t want to come and work for me?”
“Same conditions as before?”
“You got it.”
“No thanks.”
I didn’t know whether I liked him more or whether I hated him. On the one side I was attracted to him, and even his refusal to accept Ritchie, although upsetting, made sense. I would have done the exact same thing if I didn’t believe in someone. Shame: he was wrong about my partner, but at least he had demonstrated integrity. So how was I going to face that problem? We needed to tread carefully. I ended the call and urged Ritchie to come back to the office with me. Maybe we could sort out something or work on a plan.
Unfortunately, when we reached the office we were both drained by the experience and it was all we could do to sit on the sofa, looking at our feet and wallowing in our misery. For a long time we sat there without saying a word; there wasn’t much to be said, to be honest. We needed that job to survive, and without it everything would be so much more difficult. I had some savings I’d put aside for rainy days (at Ritchie’s suggestion, after my credit-card issues), but it was far too little. Oh my God, was this the end of it?
“What if we give the money back? – I mean, what she’s spent on Harry’s clothes? In that way, even if she didn’t like our job, she can’t really complain, can she?” I thought about that unexpectedly, without even thinking about the consequences, but it was the right thing to do, even if we had to tighten the crocodile belt a bit more.
“Darling, did you see the final bill? That was an outright shopping spree, almost fifteen grand. We don’t have that kind of money.” There was panic in his voice; if there was one thing he hated, it was being without money. Especially now that he had a new boyfriend and he needed to show off a bit. Who liked to appear a loser?
I had to put it right, no matter what our situation. “Listen, I’m going to call her and explain we are refunding her what we’ve spent.” At that point I received a text message. It was from Harry.
“Luv the new look. Boys around like flies on honey. Its gr8. Party wth gfs l8r, gotta go. X x x Harry. P.S. 10x LY4E.” It was nice to see that at least someone appreciated our efforts, although it didn’t make any difference to our situation.
“Why don’t we take that offer from Jasper? Maybe we’re still in time. You know they open next week.”
“Ritchie, I told you: that’s not an option.” How can you possibly love a man, then hate him with all your guts, then love him again and after ten minutes want to kill him? That was how my feelings for Jasper kept swinging. And don’t tell him I mentioned the L-word; he doesn’t know it yet. Gee, I don’t know it either, so please keep your mouth shut for the moment until I can get a clearer idea, OK?
“You can be so stubborn, GiGi. Come on, let’s do it. Even if we have to repay the bitch, with those salaries we could do it in no time at all.”
“Ritchie, will you stop nagging on that point? I said no!”
“Oh, now I’m a nag.” He was upset. “After all these years I’m becoming a nag. Well, darling, it must be the age, right?”
“Ritchie …”
“Come on, be honest: tell me that I screwed up my first job and now we’re in trouble; that it’s all my fault.” That was unexpected; how could he possibly think I was blaming him? That was unfair; after all, we worked as a team and I’d been amazed by how well he’d handled Harry. He possibly had done a better job than I could have; he not only really connected with her and found his way in, but he also chose the right items to complete her look and made it seem effortless. It took me ages to reach that level of confidence. Ritchie was a natural and, given a few years, he’d become better than I am.
“Oh, don’t bother. I’m going for a walk.” He got up out of his seat and walked out of the door. He was frustrated, but what had happened wasn’t his fault. We all get nervous when money is tight and in his position, maybe planning something more with his boyfriend, I don’t know if I would have acted any differently.
I braced myself for the worst and called Lady Whilsham to tell her the news. Vulcan Jarvis kept me on hold for what seemed a geological period and then connected me through. I explained the plan to refund all the expenses she had sustained for Harry; the girl and her mother could keep everything they might think suitable and I would collect the rest. Let them sort out what; I was exhausted and frankly, although I was sympathetic towards Harry, I couldn’t possibly judge or intrude on their relationship. I also negotiated to have three weeks to pay back the whole amount – the first instalment immediately, and the rest during the following three-week period. After a few words like “unacceptable”, “disgusted”, “unsatisfactory” and “deplorable”, we had an agreement that I would formalise it in a letter to her. There was still the question of my reputation. However, if Lady Whilsham wanted to slander my name there was nothing I could do about that. Go ahead, Lady Bitch: do what you have to do. Now that we’d agreed on refunding her costs I could at least sleep at night.
I opened the computer and started listing all my possessions at a cut-down price on eBay, I needed money fast if I was to have a chance of repaying the debt and pay Ritchie’s salary as well. Asking the bank for a loan was not an option.
In the past few months that had become a habit. Gosh, maybe I should have kept working as a secretary and forgotten about the rest, or started a career in the delivery business. With all the eBay stuff I shipped, I had the experience.
The first repayment went out a couple of days later, after I had raided my bank account, the sugar jar with the emergency funds and pawned some of my jewellery. Ritchie didn’t show up, having his boyfriend call in sick on his behalf. Things were looking grim.
CHAPTER 18
“What do you mean, they didn’t pay you?” Mother asked.
“Her mother didn’t appreciate our work. We’re exposed for fifteen thousand pounds.” I briefly explained the whole situation to her.
“But the girl, that Harry – she liked the work?”
“Yes, but that hardly counts, as it’s the mother forking out the money.”
“I told you that business model where you have to pay upfront for the clothes was risky.” Here she comes: I knew she was going there – blame me instead of taking my side. We didn’t do that for everybody, only those where we had a good chance of charging higher prices. Lady Whilsham seemed the right candidate.
“I know. We discussed that, Ritchie and I, and it was worth a shot. She could have opened an awful lot of doors for us.”
“Are you going through solicitors?” she asked after a pause, “Because we have some family friends …”
“No, Mother. Taking them to court will cost money that we don’t have and it might ruin our reputation. Would you work with someone that takes clients to court?”
“I wouldn’t work with a fashion consultant in the first place.” she retorted. “All that nonsense about telling people what they should wear.”
“Mother, we talked about that …” – but I couldn’t finish my sentence. She was already on a mission.
“And the fact that you moved to London; I bet you’re spending thousands in rent alone.”
I was, but that wasn’t the point. We needed to be in London to attract the rich clients, to be visible. We had overstretched ourselves, but it was the right thing to do. I only hoped she wouldn’t go into “Finance one-o-one” mode and explain to me what I should have done.
“GiGi, why do you keep insisting on working for yourself in that business? You work so hard and after all this time, you’re still struggling. You have to have an exit strategy. Maybe you could go back to doing your secretarial work until the economy picks up.”
“Mom, I would never do that. I wouldn’t work for someone else any more.”
“Yes, but you’re overloaded and have debts. You don’t have time to do anything with your life. How are you ever going to have a family if you keep d
oing things like that?”
I knew where she was going; she wanted to be a grandmother. My sister was too young, my brother was too busy enjoying himself to ever think about settling down, and that left me as the only appropriate candidate.
“Mum, don’t start again on the family matter; when the time is right, it’ll happen.”
“That’s what your Auntie Gina kept saying. She was so engrossed in her work, and now she’s alone. You don’t want to end up like Auntie Gina, do you?”
I remembered the story too well; she was a sort of black sheep in the family. She had decided to import wines and groceries from Italy to the UK. At first she sold door to door, but then started approaching restaurants and eventually she set up her own shop in London. She specialised in products from the Emilia Romagna: hams, all sort of salamis and wines typical of that region but that were unavailable in this country. She made a fortune and actually, she was a hero of mine. The fact that she never married or had any children was not accepted well by my relatives. On the contrary, I thought she lived the life she wanted, but I didn’t say that to my mother. Did I want to end up like Auntie Gina? I wouldn’t have minded it.
“As I’ve said many times, Mother, when the time is right and I’ve found the right person, I’ll consider that.”
“Just don’t wait too long. You’ll be old and full of wrinkles and you won’t even realise it until it’s too late.”
Yeah, the wrinkle matter. That was a favourite subject of hers. Why was she so obsessed with it?
“I’ll put some cream on, OK?”
“Now don’t be sarcastic with me, young lady. In a few years’ time you’ll appreciate what I’m saying,” she continued, “Are you moving away from London, at least? To some place cheaper?”
“We haven’t decided yet … most likely not,” I answered, a bit annoyed. There should be a law preventing people from giving too much advice during one phone call.
“You should cut your losses, while you still have time. Anyway, are there any other fashion consultants there in London?”
Blue and Green Should Never be Seen! (Or so Mother says) Page 8
