Summer Daydreams (44 page)
I can see tears filling my husband’s eyes as he holds our daughter close.
‘You look completely worn out,’ I say, squeezing his arm.
‘I am,’ he admits.
‘Then let’s go to bed.’
He raises a questioning eyebrow.
‘All three of us,’ I confirm. There’s no way that we’d get Petal back into her own room now that Olly has just returned home.
So, with a wince, Olly picks Petal up and carries her through to our bedroom. We all slide under the duvet. Me on one side. Olly on the other. Petal slap bang in the middle. Dude slinks in and settles at the foot of the bed.
‘Now go to sleep, Daddy,’ Petal instructs. ‘Or you’ll be tired in the morning.’
‘Night, night. Sleep tight, Petalmeister.’ Tenderly, he tucks the duvet around her.
Our daughter knees us both into position until she’s comfortable.
He winks at me over her head and mouths, ‘I love you.’ Looks as if the passionate reunion will have to be put on hold. I grin to myself. But we will get it.
I’m panicking, panicking, panicking.
‘Calm down,’ Olly says. He puts his hands on my shoulders and massages them. ‘Everything will be fine.’
I try to breathe so that I don’t hyperventilate.
‘Have I remembered everything?’ I ask.
‘It’s too late now,’ Olly says. ‘It’s all about to kick off. Are you ready?’
‘Just need to slip on my dress.’
‘Better get a wiggle on, Mrs McNamara.’
Turning to face him, I give him a long, lingering kiss.
‘Hmm,’ Olly says. ‘What was that for?’
‘For making this possible,’ I say. ‘For rescuing me from the depths of despair.’
‘Isn’t that the duty of a husband?’
I smile at him. ‘Then you execute your duties very well.’ This is my first show.
My first proper show!
I’ve just taken a quick break from the madness to get myself ready. We’ve managed to secure a small dressing room backstage, which, frankly, is little more than a cupboard but at least it’s away from the main fray.
Three months have gone by since Olly returned from Miami with all of our money, safe and sound. Now we’re at the massive Fashion Frenzy design show in the heart of London. With some of the money that Olly got back from Lola Cody, I splashed out and organised a catwalk show to feature my handbags. I have a warehouse full of Nell McNamara bags that arrived from China several weeks ago and this is the start of our big push towards moving them. The handbags came out better than I could even have hoped and I’m just praying that we get enough interest for it to be the first order of many.
I also took some of the money and bought back Olly’s cherished scooter without him knowing – which was, miraculously, still in the showroom window of Vroom. Ben sold it back to me for the price he’d given Olly. I think he was just glad to see it returned to its rightful owner. Olly, it goes without saying, was beside himself with joy. I think it’s the least I could do after what he did to get our money back.
The rest of the cash, of course, went straight to paying off the bank, to help cut my loan repayments. I tried to give some money back to Phil too, but he wouldn’t hear of it. So that’s where we stand now. We’re still in debt, but not cripplingly so.
What else can I tell you? Oh, we had an order from a highend French department store for our handbags. They’d seen the scandal about Yves Simoneaux and Marie Monique in the trade magazines and fell in love with the products and decided to give them a trial. It’s not a massive order, but it’s a start, and I’m thrilled that something good has finally come of that whole episode. Of Yves or Marie, I’ve heard or seen nothing since. Thank goodness. I’d give her another good whacking if I did. And him. Seems as if they’ve disappeared off the face of the earth, or at least crawled back into the hole that they came out of. Result!
Also, Olly has managed to secure a couple of regular gigs in pubs in town, three nights a week, playing his beloved music, which will help to ease our cash flow situation as he’ll be bringing in some regular money. I wouldn’t say that we’re exactly solvent, but we can, at least occasionally, veer out of the ‘own brand’ aisle in the supermarket now. Tod also helped me secure some funding from The Arts Council to go towards the costs, so, whereas to come to this show would normally have cost me an arm and a leg, it’s just costing me an arm.
You might have gathered from all my excitement that I’ve finally found my mojo again. It might have taken a long time, but with Olly safely at home and things firmly back on track between us once more, my confidence gradually returned too.
Following Tod’s advice, we’ve taken on a PR agency and they’ve managed to get some of the bags to A-list celebrities who we’re hoping will be papped while wearing them. The money that we’ve spent on the agency already seems to be paying dividends. Today alone, I’ve done a dozen press and television interviews that they fixed up for me. They’ve also arranged for the editors of some of the biggest fashion magazines to be here in the audience today. One of the big, glossy lifestyle magazines has offered me a double-page spread, featuring me in their ‘entrepreneur and mother’ feature.
Me!
This is a brand new collection that we’re showing today and I’m just head over heels in love with it and I hope that everyone else will be too. I’ve gone retro Britpop, modinspired in a big way and the handbags are going to feature the Union Jack, the London Underground map, traditional red buses, and the iconic telephone box.
The models will all be sporting sixties-style clothes, plus some original vintage pieces I’ve sourced from the market at home – our forte, I think – and Olly has dug deep into his record collection to take charge of the music for the event. If it’s a success, we’re planning to take the concept over to the New York, New Designers show next spring.
Petal’s with us and because of the electric atmosphere, she’s as hyper as if she’d had two dozen bags of Haribo Starmix, and is racing round the room, bouncing off the walls and the ceiling. I’ve given her a little role in the catwalk show and I’m hoping that this is a good idea.
‘Petalmeister,’ Olly says. ‘Chill.’
‘But I’m too upcited, Daddy!’
‘Come and sit on my knee for five minutes to calm down. You need to be ready for your big moment.’
Our daughter sighs her resignation to this plan and clambers onto Olly’s knee where he grips her in a bear hug, which does look somewhat like a police-approved restraint hold. I smile to myself. What will we do when she’s fifteen?
Then, just as I think I really must get changed, there’s a knock on the door and Tod pops his head round it. ‘We’ve all just come to say good luck. Have you got time?’
‘Yes, of course.’
For my big day all the chip shop crew are here – the indispensible Jen, Constance and, of course, Phil. I wave them into the cramped space.
Whatever happens in my life, I’ll always have time for the most important people in my life. Without them, none of this would have been possible.
‘Nell, love,’ Phil hugs me. ‘It all looks great out there.’
‘Good. You lot seem as nervous as kittens.’ They’re also all done up in their Sunday best.
‘Tod’s been doing a great job keeping us all well topped up with champagne,’ Jen tells me. ‘Soon we’ll be feeling no pain.’
I laugh. ‘Just don’t drink so much that you nod off in the show. I want you wide awake and cheering loudly.’
‘You can rely on us for that,’ Phil assures me.
‘Good luck, Nell, love. I’ve got butterflies for you,’ Constance admits. Her hands flutter anxiously to her chest.
‘Hey,’ I say, catching sight of the big sparkler on her finger.
‘What’s all this?’
My friend flushes and glances over at Phil. ‘We were going to tell you later, after the show.’
‘You’re engaged?’
‘Yes.’ They giggle in unison.
‘Yesterday,’ Phil says. ‘We came up to London early and I proposed.’
‘You dark horse!’
He grins shyly. ‘Let’s just say I’d been planning it for a while. We didn’t want a fuss though.’
‘A fuss you will have,’ I warn them. ‘You must tell me all about it.’ I throw my arms around Constance and then Phil.
‘I’m delighted for you both.’
‘Nearly ready?’ Tod asks.
I take a steadying breath. ‘Just about.’ This is turning out to be quite a day.
‘One more thing,’ Tod says. His grin says that’s he’s left the best until last. ‘I’ve just had a text from the office.’ He pauses to increase the suspense.
‘You’re killing me,’ I tell him. ‘Just spit it out.’
‘Lola and Benito Cody have been arrested for fraud. Looks like there’s going to be a court case. The other businesses that lost their money now have a chance of getting it back and Mr and Mrs Cody could be looking at a custodial sentence.’
I want to slump to the floor with relief. ‘Did you hear that, Olly?’
My husband nods his head. ‘I did, but I’m not sure that I believe it.’
‘Me neither,’ Tod says. ‘Let’s cross our fingers and hope that those guys get what’s coming to them.’
Overjoyed, I hug Olly and then I hug Tod. I know that, in the background, Tod has been working away to bring this to fruition. Seems like his hard work may well have paid off.
A woman with a clipboard and headphones puts her head round the door. ‘Ten minutes, Ms McNamara.’ She disappears again.
‘I have to get ready,’ I say to Tod. My models will be waiting for me to give the last-minute once-over to their outfits before the show kicks off. ‘But I’m going to make damn sure that I have a glass or two of champagne to celebrate that later.’
‘We’ll leave you in peace,’ Tod says, despite the mayhem that’s about to break out around us.
‘Thanks, Tod.’ I touch his arm and I hope that Olly doesn’t see the fleeting look that travels between us. We have been through so much together and I have a lot to be grateful to this man for. He was right when he said that there’s more between us than just mentor and student. We have a shared respect, a shared affection. Tod is a great bloke, no doubt, but he’s not the man for me. I already have one of the best.
‘Look after these guys for me,’ I tell Tod.
‘You don’t have to ask.’ He kisses my cheek and there’s more hugging from Constance, Phil and Jen. ‘See you later. Break a leg.’
When they’re all gone, I slip my outfit from its hanger. I’m just about to undress, ready to put it on, when there’s a tentative knock on the door.
‘Shall I get them to see you after the show?’ Olly says. I shrug. ‘Depends who it is, I guess.’
Olly opens the door for me and, standing there, is a glamorous woman. She says, ‘Could I please have a word with Ms McNamara?’
‘Time is tight,’ Olly says. ‘The show’s about to start in a few minutes.’
‘I know.’ The woman sounds apologetic. ‘But I have to leave straight afterwards and I wanted to catch Nell before the hordes descend. I’m an agent,’ she says. ‘I work for all the big stores – Harvey Nichols, Harrods. I’d like to represent Nell. My name’s Sheryl Hallaway.’
‘Come in! Come in!’ I shout. Sheryl Hallaway is such a big noise in the fashion world that even I’ve heard of her. This is someone that I definitely want on board.
The immaculately groomed Sheryl Hallaway squeezes into my cupboard.
‘Sorry about the surroundings,’ I say.
‘Hello,’ Petal says. ‘You’re a pretty lady.’
Sheryl laughs, kneels in front of my daughter, and says, ‘So are you, darling. What’s your name?’
‘Petal.’
‘She’s adorable.’ Sheryl stands up and then to me, ‘I’m sorry to barge in on you when you’re in a hurry, but I simply had to talk to you.’ She holds out a business card for me. ‘Call me. I’ve followed your work in the press and I’d love to be involved in taking it to a whole new level. In fact, I’d like to take you right to the top.’
‘Wow.’ Sheryl Hallaway wants me. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’
‘Good. Enjoy the show, Nell. It’ll be the first of many.’ She shakes my hand, then Olly’s, and leaves.
‘Pinch me, Olly,’ I say.
He wraps his arms around me. ‘You’re not dreaming,’ he assures me. ‘It’s just the start of your dreams coming true.’