Authors: Lulu Taylor
‘It’s rose, obviously,’ said Tara at last, ‘but very fresh and light.’
‘Very floral … quite sweet,’ said Poppy.
Claudine nodded.
‘It smells cool to me, a little bit … fresh. Outdoorsy,’ declared Donna. ‘I’m getting a grassy, green smell. Mmm, this is great. I like this.’
‘I don’t know if I do,’ Jemima said slowly. Then she glanced up at Claudine quickly. ‘Sorry, Claudine, I mean it’s very good but … it’s just not what I imagined
Tea Rose
to be. And it doesn’t seem to be related to the original scent at all.’
Claudine met Jemima’s gaze for a moment but said nothing. She simply dipped four more testers in the second bottle and passed them over.
This scent was quite different from the first. It was warm, rich and exotic, still unmistakeably rose, but this time with an oriental flavour.
Jemima sniffed happily. ‘Oh, I can smell incense. This reminds me of evenings out on holiday … it makes me think of summer nights, souks, lanterns over bubbling hookahs …’
‘So poetic,’ said Poppy, giggling. ‘But I know what you mean. I’m getting Turkish Delight crossed with old wax candles.’
‘This is heavy,’ Tara said thoughtfully. ‘Jemima’s right, it’s got a definite flavour of incense. It makes me think of joss sticks at a bazaar. Very different to the first one. Sophisticated, though.’
Donna put her tester on the table, frowning. ‘My worry is, will it be commercial enough? The first one
is
much more appealing to younger women, I think.’
Claudine patiently dipped the testers into the last bottle and passed them round.
They all inhaled again, waiting a few seconds for the scent to register in its entirety.
‘I like this
very
much,’ Jemima said quietly. ‘Yes … this is the one I like best. Actually, it’s amazing …’ She sniffed again.
Claudine spoke at last. ‘It is accepted that a perfume has three lives. When you first smell it or put it on your skin, you will get the top notes, the first blast of perfume. As it settles on your flesh, responding to the warmth of your body and the flavours of your own skin, it will take on a second life and you will discover its heart, the middle notes. Then these too will fade, leaving you with the base notes, the long echoing scent that is the real fragrance.’
‘What is this one?’ Tara said, sniffing her tester again. ‘It’s quite different again. The rose is rich and intense but there’s something else, something smoky, woody …’
‘Yes.’ Jemima inhaled again. ‘Oh God, it’s gorgeous, so …
adult
.’
Claudine looked at her, gave a tiny nod and a small smile. ‘I’m glad you like this one,’ she said quietly.
‘I like it,’ Poppy said doubtfully. ‘But is it
Tea Rose?
I think I prefer the Turkish Delight one.’
‘Tell us about them, Claudine,’ Donna said.
‘Very well. But first you must each take the bottles and put them on your skin, in three distinct places, so that you can try them there.’
Obediently, they took the phials and passed them to each other, pressing them to their wrists and forearms to create a small circle of each scent.
‘So,’ said Claudine. ‘The first you tried is T1. It is a green floral, made with rose essence rather than rose absolute – I have used the same rose in each juice, incidentally; the
rose de mai
. I created this scent to be fresh, light and zesty. It is more commercial, Donna is right. The second, T2, is an oriental scent. You were correct about that, Jemima. It has a Moroccan theme, spicy and dramatic. The earliest rose perfumes were Turkish and I have tried to bring that out. The rose I used here is rose absolute, which holds the heaviest scent molecules and provides a richer, darker scent. Under that we have incense and dark honey. The third, T3 … well, I want you all to smell it now that it has had a couple of minutes to develop on your skin.’
They sniffed.
‘How strange!’ exclaimed Poppy. ‘It’s different on skin. Warmer. Less smoky – although you can still smell the smoke.’
‘I’m getting a woody smell,’ said Donna thoughtfully. ‘But I love the rose, it’s so rich.’
‘No, no,’ said Jemima, excited. ‘I know what it is, I know.’ She looked over at Claudine, her eyes shining. ‘It’s tea. Isn’t it?’
Claudine smiled and nodded. ‘
Oui
. You can smell tea. Lapsang Souchong, to be exact.’
‘That’s it,’ said Jemima to the others. ‘It’s so smooth and sophisticated. I love it. That tea smell is so clever.
The
rose is feminine and sweet, the tea is smoky and elegant and … there’s something else.’
‘The base is ambergris,’ explained Claudine. ‘That is what makes it so grown up, so womanly, rather than girlish. Aldehydes link it all together, making it smooth and orchestral.’
‘I love the way it develops,’ Tara exclaimed. ‘It’s so complex but not overpowering at all.’
‘And I think there is a definite link to the old scent. It continues the story of
Tea Rose
, you can tell. This is perfect, it’s just what we wanted.’ Jemima had flushed with her enthusiasm.
Donna shifted uncomfortably. ‘I agree with everything you’ve said, but I’m worried about whether it will appeal to the mass market. I think it needs a little work. But’ – she saw Jemima’s face – ‘I’m prepared to agree that this is the idea we want to go with. Let’s all wear this one for a couple of days while Claudine maybe gives it a little tweak. Claudine, can we get something a little fresher in there? Just for the top notes, perhaps? I love the smoky development, but I want women to get something fresh at the start.’
Claudine nodded. ‘Yes. I’ll go back to the lab and then FedEx you the results. You can have them by Friday.’
‘But don’t change this too much,’ Jemima said hastily. ‘This is it. This is what we asked for. It’s
Tea Rose
, I know it.’
‘Don’t worry. From here, I can only make it better.’
* * *
Claudine was as good as her word. Three days later, a phial arrived marked T4. This one contained a fragrance of complex structure, rich scent and great elegance. It was fresh and yet smoky, soaked in the essence of precious roses but with a light touch. It was built on the warm, dark, night-time smell of ambergris, yet remained delicate and romantic, seductive and comforting.
‘We’ve got our baby,’ Donna said. ‘Claudine’s a bloody miracle worker. This is everything we wanted. Now we’ll have to get her to start experimenting with creams, lotions, body milks … everything we want to be part of the
Tea Rose
range.’
The sisters grinned at each other.
‘What on earth would Mother say?’ Tara mused, sniffing her wrist.
‘Who cares?’ cried Jemima. ‘It looks like we can succeed without her after all.’
36
WITH THE FORMULA
for
Tea Rose
finally agreed, they could at last begin to make advances. With the cost of the compound and the time needed to create the perfume, Tara could start working out the practicalities of the launch.
‘Talk about bloody regulations!’ she cried, stalking round the office, rubbing her hands through her hair in frustration. ‘Who ever guessed there were so many European directives on bloody perfume!’
The strain of what they were undertaking was taking its toll on her. Not only was she still trying to make sense of the hugely complex affairs of Trevellyan but she was also trying to keep the current sales operation on track while planning the complete overhaul of the company and organising the forthcoming launch. Even with delegating as much as she could to junior staff and to the others, she still had a vast job on her hands. She was finding it hard to sleep. Her bedroom at home had ceased feeling like her sanctuary. It still had too
much
of Gerald in it – the suits, shirts and ties that he’d left behind, and all the litter of their life together.
She had seen him only once. She had taken the children to the flat for them to say goodbye to him. He was going to return to South Africa and turn himself over to the authorities. He would live in their Cape Town home for the foreseeable future, while further details of his arrest and trial were finalised.
‘No doubt I will be bailed,’ he said. ‘And I’ve got my lawyers on the case already. I’m sure I can get out of this. But it will take time.’
‘How much time?’ Tara asked. Seeing him was like seeing someone she had once known and liked many years ago, but now felt nothing for. He left her feeling completely cold and she found it hard to have any interest in his predicament, save for where it affected her or the children.
‘Years, probably. The wheels of justice turn slowly as I’m sure you know.’ Gerald smiled at her. ‘Tara, Harold tells me you’re filing for divorce.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Please, if there’s any way you could think again … do we really need to take this terrible, serious step?’
‘I think we do.’
‘Do you know how bad this will look for me? Without your support, I will be presumed guilty.’
Tara snorted scornfully. ‘You’re really going to have to think of a better reason than that. Is that all you want me for? To save your miserable skin? So much for love, for our life together, for a marriage!’
‘I
do
love you,’ insisted Gerald plaintively.
‘It’s over, Gerald. We both know that.’ She looked at him sadly. ‘I guess we’ll have to agree how often the children will come to see you. I assume you won’t be doing much travelling once you get there.’
‘Unlikely,’ Gerald agreed. He seemed beaten.
‘We’ll discuss all that when we need to. I’ll tell Robina to bring the children in. We’ll stay for an hour.’
‘Only an hour?’ Gerald stared at her beseechingly. ‘Tara, I may not see them again in months.’
‘An hour,’ she said stubbornly. But when she saw Edward and Imo run into their father’s arms, delight all over their faces, and the way Gerald lit up as he hugged and kissed them, she was filled with remorse. She left them together, and went out to walk through the City on her own, crying softly as she realised the enormity of what was happening to them all.
‘So you’re saying that the marketing campaign is going to come in at one point six million pounds.’ Tara stared at the figures in front of her. ‘Plus the costs of creating the perfume, the bottle, the box, distribution, the refit of the shop, new staff …’
‘The press samples, the launch …’ added Jemima.
‘Yes, thanks.’ Tara looked desperate. ‘The money we’re making at present just about covers the current operation and staffing levels. The three of us are on minimum salary. We don’t have enough to cover all this.’
‘We should be able to get a lot of press for free,’ Donna said, ‘if Jemima puts her mind to it.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ Jemima asked frostily.
Donna shrugged. ‘I mean, you’re news. The public are interested in you. You’re going to have to sell yourself. Magazine interviews, newspapers, press … you’ve got to start making calls, pulling strings, talking to contacts. You must have tons of them.’
‘Yes, of course I do and I’m willing to use them when the time is right.’
‘Well, the time is right now, honey.’
Jemima looked sulky, evidently feeling that she was being criticised, but Donna ignored her and turned to Tara. ‘What money do we have coming in?’
‘Once the auctioneers have done their work, we should have a sizeable sum from Loxton’s contents. Up to six million. Maybe even more. There’ll be tax and various costs to come out of that, though, and the sale is not for another two months. We’re going to have to try and get some credit to tide us over until then.’
‘Well, that’s a start,’ Donna said. ‘Except I do have some bad news.’
‘Oh God, now what?’ Tara looked strained.
‘The figures I’ve given you don’t include the States.’
‘What?’
‘Distribution, marketing, advertising … whatever it costs in America will be extra.’
Poppy gasped. ‘But we’ll never afford it. That will be millions more, won’t it?’
Donna nodded slowly. ‘It sure will.’
‘Fuck!’ Tara threw down her pen and stood up. She marched to the window and stared stonily out. ‘Fuck, fuck. It’s all over then. We might as well forget it.’ She turned back, her face angry. ‘If we don’t have the
States,
we have nothing. We can never achieve our goals without it.’
There was silence as they all absorbed this.
‘It can’t really be that important, can it?’ asked Poppy quietly. ‘Can’t we still be a success here without launching in the States?’
Tara sighed. ‘Oh, yes, we can do our best. But we’ll have shot our bolt. Our one chance at relaunching Trevellyan, creating a new, global craze for
Tea Rose
… it’ll be gone.’
‘While we’re completely depressed and miserable, I may as well add to the bad news. I had a fabulous idea for the face for the marketing campaign.’ Jemima pulled out a magazine picture and laid it on the table. ‘It’s Neave, the new Irish supermodel.’
They all stared at the picture.
‘Of course. Brilliant. She’s great,’ said Donna. She smiled but still looked worried. ‘And she’s the ultimate now face. But would she do it?’
‘In a word, no.’ Jemima made a disgruntled expression. ‘I rang her agency. They’re not interested. She’s being inundated with offers and they say she’s far too busy. Besides, they don’t consider Trevellyan well known enough and they’re bound to want to align her with a genuinely famous brand.’
‘We couldn’t have afforded her anyway,’ Tara said bleakly. ‘Oh, Christ. What are we going to do?’ She went back to her chair and slumped down in it.
Poppy looked over at her, worried. She had never seen Tara so defeated before and now it seemed she was completely beaten.
‘If it’s really that bad,’ Jemima said quietly, ‘then maybe we should consider selling. Remember I told you that I bumped into Richard Ferrera in Paris? Well, he’s still interested in buying Trevellyan. He said that we could all stay on as directors and run the company, but that he’d own us.’ She looked at her sisters in turn. ‘I mean, we need someone with a vast amount of money, don’t we? Someone who can afford to fund our big plans. He’s American too, so he’ll know how to run things Stateside.’