Authors: Lindsey Kelk
‘You’re going to tell him you threw up in a gutter?’
‘I don’t know exactly what I’m going to tell him but I do have to talk to him. And Nick.’
‘Yeah, what’s that all about?’ she asked, pushing her sunglasses back up her shiny nose. ‘He was practically pleasant last night. Is he ill? Does he have some sort of syndrome?’
‘That’s offensive to people who have some sort of syndrome,’ I said. ‘Any sort of syndrome. Nick isn’t mentally ill; he’s just a knob. But then, so am I, so there we go.’
I was relatively hazy on what had happened after we got home. I remembered Nick helping me up to my room and getting me out of my dress but since I woke up in an empty bed with my knickers on, I was fairly certain he had done the gentlemanly thing and vacated the room as soon as I was under the covers. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
‘I can’t decide if this is a better situation or a worse one,’ Amy replied, switching her backpack to the other shoulder. ‘Now you’ve got both of them trying it on? Maybe you should send them on a quest or something. Make them prove their love. First one to come back with the Heart of the Ocean is the winner.’
‘The problem is, Nick didn’t exactly throw himself at my feet, did he?’ I said, shepherding her to the pedestrian crossing and trying not to trip over someone’s sausage dog. Milan was full of sausage dogs. ‘And – I can’t quite believe I’m saying this – but even if Charlie went to the bottom of the ocean and found the necklace, I don’t know what I would do with it.’
‘Woah,’ Amy breathed. ‘You’re serious. You would never take
Titanic
in vain.’
‘I know.’ I turned down the alleyway that I hoped would bring us out at Edward Warren’s studio. It didn’t. ‘It feels weird. I’ve had this crush for so long and I don’t know how to explain it, but something has shifted. Can you be in love with two people at once?’
‘Asked every shitty romcom ever,’ Amy said. ‘Unfortunately for you, yes, I think you can but I don’t think it can be the same kind of love. And just so you know, a crush isn’t the same as being in love.’
I rolled my shoulder and it stung like a bitch. I might have slept on it funny. Or I might have fallen down and grabbed someone’s boobs to hold me up. One or the other.
‘I do have feelings for both of them,’ I said, pressing the aching muscles in my neck. ‘But it’s different.’
Amy skipped in front of me, clutching her hands to her chest. ‘Charlie is the moon and Nick is the sun? Charlie is a daisy and Nick is a luscious red rose? Charlie is Liam Hemsworth and Nick is Chris Hemsworth?’
‘Is Chris hotter than Liam?’ I asked.
‘Eh.’ She waved her hand from side to side. ‘It’s pretty fifty-fifty looks-wise but Liam loses points for the Miley Cyrus engagement thing.’
‘I do worry about you,’ I said, still struggling to choose a favourite Hemsworth.
‘I only wish I’d known it was going to be this easy for you to get over him,’ she said, following me back out of the alley without a peep of complaint. ‘I could have found some random hot fuck-knuckle to bang some sense into you ten years ago.’
‘I can’t believe I told Nick I loved him,’ I said, checking the map one more time. ‘I can’t believe I pulled that woman’s dress down.’
‘The dress part I can believe,’ she went on, trotting along behind me. ‘I should have cut you off after the champagne but yeah, I think the “I love you” part was a shock to everyone. Even if it is completely obvious.’
‘It’s so not obvious,’ I said, quite aware that it was.
‘Yeah, it is.’ Amy pulled her polka-dot shorts down to cover her knickers as we arrived outside the studio. ‘This is
wild
. I thought you just wanted to shag the arse off him but you properly love him.’
‘Mmm.’ I was as noncommittal as possible. ‘I think this is it.’
I still wasn’t completely ready to talk about it. If only I could have had my life-hanging epiphany when I wasn’t completely tanked, I might feel better. Telling someone you loved them and then throwing up on their shoes was not the beginning of a love story to echo through the ages.
I pressed the doorbell then pinched my cheeks to bring a colour to my face other than green. ‘We can talk about this later. Actually, no, we can’t.’
‘I just want to get this done as quickly as possible,’ she muttered, rubbing her temples. ‘I need a Berocca mixed with Red Bull and half a packet of Nurofen Plus. What’s the Italian equivalent of Nurofen Plus?’
I turned to give her a look but there really was no point. We were both so hung over that anything other than express verbal communication was a waste of time.
‘It shouldn’t take long.’ I took a step back to stare up at the unassuming façade of Warren’s building, waiting to be buzzed in. ‘We’re just here to get a few shots of whatever Edward has done so far.’
‘Thank God we’re in Italy though,’ Amy said as the door opened and a different slender secretary indifferently ushered us inside. ‘I need to eat all the carbs.’
‘All of them,’ I agreed, thinking of the amazing spread on the breakfast table that neither of us had been able to touch. ‘It’ll be fine; he can’t have done that much, can he? We were only here on Monday. We’ll get in, take a few shots and be out in no time, I promise.’
‘As you can see, I have been quite busy.’
Edward Warren, resplendent in head-to-toe emerald green, highlighted with a leopard-print tie, threw open the door to his workroom with a flourish.
‘Fucking hell,’ Amy breathed. ‘Have you got elves working for you?’
‘I tend to get a little carried away when I’m invested in a project,’ he said, waving us past an army of tailors’ dummies, some half-dressed, some draped with fabric, others in what seemed to be finished designs. ‘I haven’t really slept since I last saw you. When I was working on my collection, I had all the samples at the factory within a week.’
‘This is
amazing.
’ I set my backpack down on one of the few bare surfaces, and tried to count the dummies but my hangover had them dancing all over the room. There had to be at least a dozen in varying states of undress. ‘Has Al – I mean, Mr Bennett – seen them yet?’
‘He’s coming by tomorrow.’ Edward frowned at the closest dummy, removed a pin and replaced it, smiling at an imperceptible difference in the design. ‘He tells me you’re to take photographs of whatever you like, of everything. Do I need to be in them?’
‘It would be great to get you in a couple of shots if you don’t mind?’ I said, looking at the room again with my photographer’s head on. ‘Ideally, it’s all supposed to be pretty natural so maybe we could get you to work on one of the dummies while we shoot?’
‘I don’t like to work in front of strangers,’ he said stiffly, adjusting his tie. ‘But as this is for Al, I’ll try. Where do you want me?’
‘The light is really nice over there.’ I pointed to the huge arched windows in the front of the building and away from the extensive collection of explicit nude photographs on the walls. It was nice to see he was consistent in his decorating. ‘How about that?’
‘I love your tie,’ Amy said as she unfolded the reflector from my kit, jumping as it popped into shape. ‘It’s so leopardy.’
‘I never really loved leopard print until I moved to Milan,’ Edward explained, flipping the end of his tie happily. ‘But the Italians have a taste for it and I have to say it’s catching.’
‘Very D&G,’ Amy replied as though she knew exactly what she was talking about. ‘I like the mafia widow look myself.’
‘Yes,’ Edward replied, reviewing her spotted shorts and pink cropped top for evidence. ‘It is a classic.’
I rubbed my knuckles over my forehead, driving my hangover into the back of my head as I rifled around for my light meter. If there was one thing that Amy was great at, it was making friends. She could make anyone feel comfortable and usually knew his or her darkest secrets inside half an hour. It was a gift I wished I shared; strangers usually made me feel awkward and uncomfortable. That was one of the reasons I’d been so happy in my Charlie bubble for so long: I was rubbish at chatting people up and even worse at being the chattee. The last time a guy had had a crack at me in a bar, he ended up breaking down in tears and confessing that he was gay. I was quite proud of myself but Amy had been disappointed to say the least, especially when he confessed his feelings for the guy she was talking to. I think everyone went home alone that night.
‘You’ve really done all this since Monday?’ I asked Edward as he began to adjust the fabric on a beautiful pale silk shirtdress with a huge, full skirt. At least I found it easier to talk to people when I had a camera in my hands. ‘It’s incredible.’
‘Without wanting to sound disparaging, they weren’t complicated designs,’ he said, turning a little towards the light without even being asked. For someone who didn’t like having his photograph taken, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. ‘They are beautiful and classic and it’s a long time since I worked on anything like this, but they weren’t difficult for me. The beauty of these clothes will be in the detail and the execution. They’re timeless.’
‘Amy, can you lift that up a bit?’ I asked. She gave a faint whimper and raised the circular reflector over her head, baring her belly. ‘So, Mr Warren, you’ve known Mr Bennett a long time?’
‘Sorry?’ He blinked twice, clearly distracted by Amy’s bare flesh. ‘Oh, it’s Edward, please. And yes, I’ve known him for … goodness, it must be forty years. I was an assistant to a very famous designer in the seventies and we spent a great deal of time with the Bennetts. Jane actually introduced me to my ex-wife. In fact, she introduced me to two of them.’
‘I’ve heard so many lovely stories about her,’ I said, crouching down and zooming in. ‘She must have been amazing.’
‘She was a very kind woman, very gracious,’ he nodded. ‘But she was a powerhouse. God help you if you ever got in her way. Or divorced one of her friends. Or two of them.’
‘How many times have you been married?’ Amy asked.
‘Lift that up again, Amy,’ I interrupted. ‘She sounds amazing. And terrifying.’
‘Oh, she was,’ Edward laughed, folding the fabric on the dummy and pinning it in place. ‘It was almost worth upsetting her to watch her go. I remember once, during fashion week, she and Al were holding a party at their palazzo and an up-and-coming shoe designer – I won’t name names – came over to talk to Al about his new line, but everyone knew Jane ruled the roost when it came to the shoe department, everyone except this young man. Anyway, Al tells him he’ll have to speak to his wife and the designer mistakenly thinks he means to get an opinion because, you know, she’s a woman, she must be shoe crazy. So, he turns to Jane and says, “Tell me,
madam
, what do you look for in a shoe?” and Jane says “Something that sells one thousand units a month” and walks away. Never spoke to him again, refused to even look at the samples.’
Amy and I stared at him.
‘Maybe you had to be there,’ he muttered. ‘But it was a very long time until you could walk into one of their stores and buy a pair of shoes with a certain colour sole. Never cross a Bennett.’
‘Al just doesn’t seem like the sort of man to hold a grudge,’ I mused, shifting positions to get a wider shot.
‘Don’t underestimate him,’ Edward said, smoothing out his epic eyebrows. ‘And Artie inherited his mother’s temper.’
‘I know he and his dad don’t necessarily get on brilliantly,’ I replied, wrinkling my nose. ‘I shot him in Hawaii a couple of weeks ago but I haven’t seen him here yet.’
‘All the better that you don’t,’ he said, adjusting his cufflink. ‘You know what a difficult character he can be. I’m glad they’re talking again – it would have broken Jane’s heart to see them at each other’s throats the way that they were.’
I signalled for Amy to lift up the reflector again, getting a high-pitched whine in response. ‘I don’t think I realized it was that bad. They really fell out then?’
‘I don’t like to gossip,’ Edward said before deciding that he was more than happy to make an exception. ‘But it was very unpleasant for a while. Al was in Hawaii; Artie was here in Milan or out in New York. As I understood it, Artie felt that he was doing all the work on the business and should be made CEO of the company.’
I snapped a couple of shots to keep him talking. ‘But that’s happened now, hasn’t it?’ I asked.
‘Yes.’ He clambered to his feet and dusted off his emerald knees. ‘And now they’re talking again, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see another tiff. Artie inherited Jane’s temper but he failed to develop some of her more gracious habits and he was always such a mummy’s boy. But like I said, I’m not one to gossip.’
‘Clearly,’ Amy said, dropping the reflector to the floor. ‘Dreadful habit.’
‘It’s a shame you aren’t taller, you would make a wonderful model,’ Edward said, looking up from the dummy to consider my friend. ‘Such an interesting face.’
‘Interesting?’ she returned his gaze with as serious an expression as she could muster. ‘Bugger. If only I could grow a foot overnight.’
‘Perhaps you would be interested in modelling for me?’ Edward asked, gesturing to the huge black-and-white photos on the walls. ‘I actually took all of the pictures in this room.’
‘I reckon we can get the rest of it done without you,’ I said before Amy could punch him in the balls or accept. ‘Thank you so much, Mr Warren.’
‘Right, yes.’ He pulled a business card out of his back pocket and handed it to Amy. ‘Think about it.’
‘Tess could model for you,’ Amy said, immediately putting the card down on the table beside her. ‘She’s tall.’
Warren cast his eyes my way, looked me up and down and screwed up his face.
‘You are tall,’ he said, hand already on the door handle. ‘Good for you.’
‘I’m going to Photoshop his bald patch even bigger,’ I whispered as the door closed behind him. ‘Wanker.’
‘Please tell me we’re done?’ Amy begged, two hours later, poking her head out from underneath one of the unfinished dresses. She had been flat on her back underneath her
haute couture
tent for the last twenty minutes and I was well aware that she was losing patience. Amy wasn‘t someone who suffered in silence. Ever. ‘You must have taken a photo of every stitch in every dress.’