Someone Like You: Escape with this perfect uplifting romance

by Tracy Corbett

  Despite her fatigue, she’d agreed to meet up with her former work colleagues Dottie and Taye in Haringey last night for a drink. She’d hoped seeing her old friends would enable her to relax and return to being comfortable ‘Lilith’ for an evening, instead of pretending to be someone she wasn’t. But her admission that she’d won her current job through false pretences hadn’t gone down well. They couldn’t understand why she didn’t just come clean and confess that there’d been a mix-up. But they didn’t know about Will, or her holiday fling, so her lame excuse of wanting to ‘prove herself’, hadn’t allayed their concerns that she was ‘heading for a fall’. The evening deteriorated when she’d asked Taye for a fake reference. He’d agreed, but she could tell he wasn’t at all happy about it.

  Consequently, her evening hadn’t been as joyful as she’d hoped, and she returned to Windsor feeling even more despondent about her situation than she had before.

  No wonder she’d woken up feeling so depressed this morning.

  She finished making her tea and carried it over to assess her latest creation. Getting to grips with the logistics of being a costume designer might be causing her no end of stress, but the actual dressmaking part itself was enormous fun.

  Gone were the days when she’d had to reuse second-hand castoffs to create her outfits and make do with an ancient sewing machine. This job provided all the mod cons she could ever need, from a proper cutting table, to an industrial sewing machine which didn’t snap the needle when dealing with thicker fabric.

  And the fabrics? Luxurious expensive handmade silks and quality weaves that didn’t stretch when you tacked them, and hung beautifully on the tailor’s dummy. It was a dream.

  The latest dress was of Tudor design and made from heavy dark red silk, with waterfall sleeves and gold brocade inlets inserted into the front panel of the A-line skirt. The boned bodice was trimmed with gold beading and interspersed with ruby-coloured stones. It was by far the most advanced piece she’d ever worked on and was made up of several metres of fabric and required boning skills and a corset fastening. But the end result was a stunning gown befitting of Queen Elizabeth I.

  Sipping her tea, Lily smiled. Whatever happened next, she was incredibly proud of the two dresses she’d made. It was just a shame she had no one to share her joy with – or her problems. What she wouldn’t give to have her granddad around, with his wise words of encouragement, or be able to show her grandma the costumes she’d created. As it was, she had no one to talk to. No one to confide in about her subterfuge. And no one to assure her that everything was going to be okay. Was it? She had no idea.

  She shook away her sadness.

  No point dwelling. She’d made her bed, as her grandma used to say.

  The trailer door opened, saving her from dissolving into a teary mess.

  Zac’s head appeared. ‘Okay to come in?’

  ‘Of course. I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.’ With no filming scheduled, most of the departments were absent, enjoying a well-earned break.

  Zac stepped inside the trailer. ‘I’m looking after my cousin today. She wanted to see where I worked. I’m giving her the guided tour.’ He gestured behind him, where a young girl hovered in the doorway.

  She looked about nine or ten, with long light-brown hair and big wary eyes. Her frame was slight, which added to her fragility. All skin and bones, just as Lily had been at that age.

  She smiled at the girl, hoping to ease her nervousness. ‘Welcome to the wardrobe trailer.’

  The girl looked around. She was wearing a pink top, a match for her ballet pumps, and a denim skirt. Quite the contrast to her cousin, who wore his trademark black attire, complete with leather biker jacket, despite the warm weather.

  ‘Come in. Have a look around.’ Lily took her mug over to the sink. ‘Would you like a drink? We have orange juice. Or diet cola?’

  The girl shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’

  Zac’s phoned pinged. He frowned at the screen. ‘Sorry, I have to take this.’ He headed for the door, pausing to turn back to his charge. ‘Wait here, Poppy. I won’t be long.’

  Poppy looked apprehensive, but did as she was told and stayed put.

  Lily went over to the girl. ‘I’m named after a flower, too. I’m Lily.’

  Her face brightened. ‘You’re Lily?’ She gazed up at Lily as if she’d announced herself as Wonder Woman. ‘It’s very nice to meet you.’

  ‘It’s nice to meet you, too.’ Lily sat on the padded bench seat at the front of the trailer, encouraging the girl to do the same. ‘My name’s actually Lilith, but I shortened it.’

  The girl climbed onto the bench seat. ‘Why?’

  ‘Good question.’ She mulled it over. ‘I thought it might make me feel braver. You know, by creating an alter ego. Like they do in the superhero films.’

  ‘Like Wanda in The Avengers? She becomes The Scarlet Witch.’

  ‘Exactly like that.’ Lily laughed. ‘Although “The Scarlet Witch” sounds a lot braver than plain old “Lily”. Maybe I should have gone for something bolder.’

  Poppy hugged her knees to her chest. ‘Did it work? Changing your name? Did it make you feel braver?’

  ‘Some days, yes. Other days, not so much.’

  Poppy looked thoughtful.

  She climbed off the seat and walked over to the Tudor dress hanging on the tailor’s dummy. ‘This is pretty.’

  ‘Thank you. I made it.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Yep.’ Lily joined her by the dummy. ‘It’s for a film we’re making about Royal history.’

  Poppy’s small hand reached out to touch the material. ‘How do you make a dress?’

  ‘Well, to start with, you need a dressmaking pattern. Then you cut out the pattern pieces and sew the pieces together to create a new shape. Like this dress.’

  ‘That sounds hard.’

  ‘It can be, but you wouldn’t start with a garment this complicated. You’d start small, using a simple shape. Would you like me to show you?’

  The girl nodded. ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Come over here.’ Lily went over to the line of drawers. ‘I have some offcut pieces of material. Pick out a few bits you like and then we’ll sew them together.’

  Poppy dropped to her knees, her face as animated as if she was hunting for treasure. ‘I like the red and the gold.’

  ‘Excellent choice. Now we need to make a pattern.’ Lily opened her pattern book. ‘I’m going to draw a simple shape, like a square.’

  Poppy leant against her as she watched her draw. Lily could feel the girl’s warm breath against her arm. This must have been how her grandma had felt teaching her to sew when she was young.

  ‘Now we cut it out… like so… and then this is our pattern, which we pin to the fabric.’ She demonstrated. ‘And bingo, we have our first pattern piece.’ She removed the pins and held out the pattern paper. ‘Would you like a go?’

  Poppy nodded. ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Okay, so pin the paper to the fabric… that’s right. Now carefully cut around it.’ The girl’s face was a picture of concentration as she cut. Her hands looked so small holding the large dressmaking scissors. She struggled at first, but soon managed it. ‘Brilliant. If we cut out all the pieces then you can take it home with you to finish.’

  Her face dropped. ‘I don’t have any sewing things at home.’

  ‘Maybe you could ask your mummy if she has something you could borrow.’

  Poppy averted her eyes. ‘I don’t have a mummy.’

  Lily stilled. ‘You don’t?’

  Poppy shook her head. ‘She died when I was little.’

  It was a while before Lily could speak. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. My mum died when I was little, too.’

  Poppy’s head tilted in a quizzical fashion. ‘She did?’

  ‘Yes. It still makes me sad sometimes.’

  ‘Me too.’

  Poor kid.

  Poppy pointed to the fabric. ‘Can I do the
other two?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘If we don’t have time to finish it today, maybe I can come back another time?’

  Lily smiled. ‘Maybe.’

  When Poppy was done, Lily collected the four squares of material. ‘Now we place them face down on the floor like this and pin the edges together.’ She lifted the fabric for Poppy to see. ‘And here we have our mini patchwork cover.’

  Poppy smiled. ‘I like it.’

  ‘Clever, isn’t it?’ She dug out some quilting from the bag. ‘Once we’ve sewn it together, we can add a backing to cover the joins, and then you’ll have a little quilt.’

  ‘It’s too small for my bed.’

  Lily laughed. ‘True, but it might be okay for a doll, or an animal. Do you have any pets?’

  ‘Lots. But I don’t think Colin the Rabbit would like it, he’s too fidgety. But it would be good for Pete the Tortoise. For when he goes into hibernation. Do you have any pets?’

  ‘No. I always wanted one, but they weren’t allowed where I lived.’

  ‘Where did you live when you were growing up?’

  ‘In a local authority flat in Haringey with my grandparents.’ Lily threaded a needle. ‘I’m now tacking the material together to make it easier to sew on the machine.’

  ‘Is that who brought you up after your mummy died?’

  ‘It was.’ Lily started to sew, aware of the little girl studying her.

  ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’

  ‘Nope, only me.’

  ‘Do you have any children?’

  Lily raised an eyebrow. ‘No.’

  ‘Do you have a husband?’

  ‘Are you always this inquisitive?’ Lily’s lips twitched at the girl’s determined questioning.

  ‘I guess.’ Poppy shrugged. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’

  Lily laughed. ‘No boyfriend.’ She removed the pins. ‘Why? Do you have a boyfriend?’

  ‘Yuk, no! I’m only eleven. My daddy says I can start dating when I’m twenty-one. But even then I have to have a chaperone.’ Poppy’s daddy was clearly the protective type. And who could blame him? ‘I don’t even know what a chaperone is.’ Poppy shifted position, her weight leaning against Lily. ‘Do you like children?’

  Lily stopped sewing. ‘Why do I feel like I’m being interviewed for a dating app?’

  Poppy gave an innocent shrug. ‘Just curious.’

  Zac reappeared in the doorway, rescuing her from further interrogation.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ he said, coming over. ‘You okay, Poppy?’

  Lily was a bit embarrassed to be found on the floor with the girl almost in her lap. She got to her feet and gestured to the mess on the floor. ‘Sewing lesson.’

  Poppy jumped up. ‘The nice lady was helping me make a quilt for Pete the Tortoise.’

  ‘Cool. But we need to go now. Say thank you to Lily.’

  Poppy turned to her. ‘Thank you for showing me how to make a pattern.’

  ‘You’re very welcome. It was lovely to meet you, Poppy.’

  ‘You, too.’ Poppy took Zac’s hand, waving as she left. ‘See you soon!’

  Lily leant against the counter, smiling. Cute kid.

  Shaking her head, she picked up the discarded material and stuffed it back in the bag. She hadn’t been around kids much, but she liked the idea of being a mum one day. But that meant meeting someone. And that wasn’t likely to happen any time soon. Not when she was still getting over Will.

  Besides which, even if things had worked out with Will, he didn’t seem like the paternal type. Too focused on his career.

  No sooner had she returned to hemming the Elizabethan dress, than the trailer door opened again. So much for taking advantage of a quiet Saturday.

  ‘Anyone here?’ Megan called.

  ‘Come in,’ Lily called back, recognising the actress’s voice.

  Megan Lawrence stepped into the trailer. She removed her designer sunglasses, surrounded by a waft of heady perfume. ‘Any chance you could squeeze me in for a fitting?’

  Lily got up off the floor. ‘Sure. Perfect timing. I’m about to start hemming.’

  ‘My lunch date cancelled, so I thought I’d pop in on the off-chance you’d be working. I figured you would be.’ Megan studied the dress hanging on the tailor’s dummy. ‘You certainly have talent,’ she said, circling the gown. ‘This is a work of art. Can I try it on?’

  ‘Be my guest. Do you want to change in the back?’

  But Megan was already stripping off, removing her sheer top and discarding it on the floor.

  ‘Or not.’ Lily raised her eyebrows. She supposed she should be used to it by now.

  ‘You can’t afford to be shy in this industry,’ Megan said, shrugging off her skinny jeans.

  ‘I guess not.’ Lily removed the dress from the dummy.

  ‘Bra, on or off?’

  ‘Off.’

  Megan unhooked her bra and slung it away.

  Of course she had perfect breasts.

  Lily waited until Megan had stepped into the opening of the dress and between them they lifted it up. ‘Hold it in place while I fasten the corset at the back, please.’

  Megan shuffled the dress into position. ‘High enough?’

  ‘Perfect.’ Lily began threading the gold ribbons through the eyelets and tugged the corset together.

  ‘You’re new to this, aren’t you?’

  ‘What, fastening a corset?’ Lily paused. ‘Is it too tight?’

  ‘I meant being a costume designer.’

  Thankfully, she was facing Megan’s back, so her guilty expression remained unseen. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She resumed lacing the ribbons.

  ‘It’s okay, I won’t say anything. But it’s clear you’ve never done this before.’

  Oh, God. Lily stopped dead. ‘Is it that obvious?’

  ‘Maybe only to me. I’ve worked with enough costume designers to know how it works.’ Megan glanced over her shoulder. ‘Keep going. And fasten it tighter. I’d rather look skinny than be able to breathe.’

  An advertising slogan if ever there was one.

  Lily resumed fastening the corset, slower, her hands shaking. ‘Am I that bad?’

  ‘At designing costumes? God, no. You’re amazing, these dresses are to die for. I’ve never worn anything so exquisite in my entire career.’

  Well, that was something. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But as for the other stuff?’

  ‘I suck, right?’

  ‘Big time.’

  The woman was honest, if nothing else. It was no more than she’d feared, but it still stung having it confirmed.

  ‘Go tighter. I can take it.’ Megan sucked in a breath, narrowing her waist even further. ‘Can I give you some advice?’

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘You need to be more assertive. You’re behaving like a seamstress, not a designer.’

  Lily tugged on the corset ribbons. ‘What’s the difference?’

  ‘Seamstresses tend to be timid creatures, happy to shy away from attention and bury their heads in their sewing machines. They follow orders, never offering an opinion. Whereas costume designers are louder by nature, more confident and vocal. They get involved in discussions, input their opinions, and are more assertive on how things should run on set.’

  ‘And I’m not doing that?’

  ‘No, darling. You’re letting everyone bully you. And believe me, no one wants a designer that can’t stand up for themselves.’

  Lily fastened the ribbons. ‘But how can I argue back when I’ve no idea what I’m doing?’

  ‘But you do know what you’re doing. Your costume designs are perfect. They’re exactly what the brief requires.’ Megan turned to face her. ‘Have a little faith, darling. You clearly have talent, and vision, and the right work ethic, so there’s no reason why you can’t do this. You just need to trust in your abilities.’ She placed her hands on Lily’s shoulders. ‘Trust me. I’ve been around long enough to know how i
t all works. And I don’t want to see you fired. It would be the end of your career. This is a small industry and word travels fast. You’d never get another shot. You need to make this work, okay?’

  Crikey. ‘Say it how is it, why don’t you?’

  ‘I always do, darling. Now, how do I look?’

  ‘Stunning.’

  ‘I thought as much.’

  Her confidence made Lily smile. ‘I just need to adjust the sleeve length and pin the hem.’ She picked up her pincushion. ‘Thank you. I really appreciate your advice.’

  ‘Not at all, darling. Like I say, you’re too talented not to make this work. And it’s the least I could do after the trouble I caused changing necklace. I rather landed you in it.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘Oh, it was, darling. I was being a diva. I should have known better. Anyway, apologies.’ She glanced down. ‘Bloody hell, my cleavage looks fabulous in this.’

  Lily laughed.

  ‘I’m commissioning you to make all my gowns from now on. You’re a miracle worker.’

  ‘It helps that you have… you know, good assets.’

  Megan quirked a brow. ‘Good assets? They’ve never been called that before.’ She looked down. ‘Hear that, girls? What a fine pair of assets you are.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’ Lily flapped a hand, mostly from embarrassment.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about having her secret exposed. Relief, partly. It didn’t sound as though Megan was about to tell anyone, and she’d given her some invaluable advice. She needed to take heed. It was time to stop apologising and start calling the shots. Could she do that? Only one way to find out. It wasn’t like she had anything to lose.

  She had just pinned up the length on one sleeve, when there was another knock at the door.

  ‘It’s open,’ she called out, wondering who else was about to interrupt her.

  ‘Lily, are you in here?’ Will marched into the trailer, looking his usual annoyed self.

  Oh, good. More yelling. What had she done this time? But despite her indignation at his abrupt tone, the sight of him striding towards her in faded jeans and a soft casual shirt, sent a jolt of electricity coursing through her.