‘The Mad Hatter, Daddy.’ She sounded exasperated.
‘Right. Of course. The Mad Hatter. Alice in Wonderland. I knew that.’ Even if he’d temporarily forgotten. ‘And when do you need your costume by?’
‘The end of next week.’
He silently cursed. ‘No problem, sweetie. We’ll go to the hire shop this weekend.’
No response.
‘Poppy?’
More silence.
‘Poppy, are you there?’
He could faintly hear breathing so he knew they hadn’t lost connection. ‘Can’t… can’t we make it?’
‘Make it? What the costume?’
‘I don’t want to hire one, I want to make one.’
He’d applied himself to all manner of activities over the years, from baking cupcakes to sitting through the Frozen film countless times, but so far he’d managed to avoid anything sewing-related. ‘Oh, sweetie, I don’t know how to make a costume.’
‘Everyone else is getting a homemade costume. Their mummy is making it for them.’
And there it was. The constant reminder that his fragile beautiful little daughter didn’t have a mummy.
Would there ever come a time when he wouldn’t be floored by the impact of losing Sara? It was less acute than it had been. It no longer consumed his every waking thought and, for the most part, he’d moved on. Or at least, he was trying to. But just when he foolishly thought he’d come through the worst and that nothing else could derail him… BANG… another curveball would hit him.
This time it was because of the pain it caused his daughter. No matter how much he tried to compensate for being a lone parent, his daughter was struggling to blossom without a mother. And it broke his heart.
‘Tell you what, sweetie. Why don’t you ask Nanny when you see her at the weekend? Maybe she can help?’ Not that he was being sexist… much. But if he was a better dad he’d be on top of these things. He had zilch ability when it came to sewing.
‘Maybe.’ She didn’t sound convinced. ‘Couldn’t we ask Lily instead?’
He stopped dead. What did she say…? Maybe he’d misheard. There was no way she could have asked about Lily. She had no idea who Lily was.
‘Daddy…? Are you still there?’
‘Yes, I’m still here.’
‘I said… can’t we ask Lily to help?’
So he hadn’t misheard. He was hit by another curveball. This one very much alive and the current bane of his professional life. ‘Lily? Err… who’s Lily?’ Christ, he’d never make it as an actor.
‘The costume lady for the film you’re making.’
‘And how do you know about her?’
‘You and Aunty Gemma were talking about her, remember? Aunty Gemma said you had a crush on her, but you said you didn’t.’
Nothing wrong with his daughter’s memory, clearly.
How the hell to get out of this one? ‘Well… that’s right. She’s a work colleague, that’s all. I barely know her.’ Liar.
Or was it? He’d thought he’d known her. He’d foolishly thought himself to be in love with her. Turns out he’d been mistaken. A momentary lapse in judgement that he was still trying to claw his way back from.
‘But she works for you, doesn’t she? Maybe she could help make a costume?’
‘We can’t ask her to do that, sweetie.’
‘Why not?’
He headed into the car park, glad of a reduction in noise as the doors swung closed behind him. ‘Because she’s too busy making costumes for the tour guide,’ he said, reaching his car. ‘She won’t have time to make you a costume as well. Sorry.’
‘Can’t we ask her?’
‘No, sweetie. We can’t.’ He climbed into his car, wondering how his life had become so complicated. ‘Please don’t worry, we’ll get you a costume. I promise. Now, I have to go. Aunty Gemma won’t be long. See you later, sweetie.’
‘Bye, Daddy.’ She sounded dejected, and once again, he felt like a rotten dad.
He started the engine and pulled out of the car park.
He didn’t like lying to his daughter. But he didn’t want to get her hopes up, either. Poppy was so desperate for a mummy she might get the wrong idea and latch onto the idea of him and Lily. Well, there was no him and Lily. That ship had sailed. Been set alight. Sunk without trace. Covered in rust and was now residing at the bottom of the Caribbean Sea.
Christ, he was being dramatic.
He pulled onto the high street and headed towards The Great Park.
This was why he never mixed his dating life with his home life. He couldn’t risk Poppy becoming attached to someone he wasn’t serious about, or who wouldn’t stick around. It would be cruel. The poor kid had suffered enough. He wasn’t about to add to her woes.
He was so distracted by his thoughts, he almost didn’t see the figure running up the Kings Road towards him. The sun had temporarily blinded him, blurring his vision and creating deceptive shadows across the road. It was only at the last minute that he realised it was Lily and had to swerve to avoiding hitting her.
Shit! He braked hard and jumped out of the car. ‘What the hell?’
She was panting, doubled over trying to catch her breath. ‘I might’ve known this would be my fault.’
He ran over. ‘You were in the middle of the road.’
‘Hardly the middle,’ she said, straightening. ‘And where else was I supposed to go? There’s no pavement along this section, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘What are you even doing?’
Her eyebrows lifted. ‘Seriously?’ She lifted the large carry bag she was holding. ‘I’m trying to get Megan’s dress to her. She texted me and said she needed it urgently for filming.’
He stared at her glowing red face and out-of-breath expression. ‘And you thought running it over here was a good idea? All the way from The Great Park?’
‘How else was I supposed to get it here? Fly?’
He took a step back. Boy, she was riled. Hadn’t she heard of a taxi? Somehow he felt pointing this out wouldn’t help. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’
‘I did. Your phone was engaged.’
‘You could’ve messaged me?’
Her glare intensified. ‘And what? Wait around for you to reply?’ With an irate toss of her head, she carried on walking up the road.
Was she for real? He jogged after her. ‘Better than running here.’
‘Christ, you’re a pain in the arse.’
‘Excuse me?’ He caught her arm, stung by her accusation. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
She swung around to face him. ‘You yell at me when I mess up, I get that. Deservedly so. But in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m trying to help here. I’m not running about carrying a giant bag for my own amusement. The dress wasn’t due to be on set until tomorrow morning. I’m not at fault here.’ She stepped towards him, her voice increasing in volume. ‘This is me trying to be a good team player. Responding to a sudden change in circumstances. Not crumbling at adversity by falling to bits, but rising to the challenge. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me I need to do?’
‘Well… yes.’
‘Then stop giving me crap and help me get this flaming dress to Megan.’ She shoved the bag at him.
He took the dress, slightly stunned. ‘Point well made.’
‘Thank you.’ She stormed off towards his car.
He waited for her to climb in before laying the dress across the backseat.
She refused to look at him.
He climbed in beside her and turned the car around, wondering if he’d been transported to an alternative universe. One where Lily Monroe wasn’t a cowering mess, but a feisty sparring opponent.
He had a sudden flashback of their time in the Caribbean and how Lily had climbed down balconies and thrown herself onto giant inflatables. Maybe the adventurous spirit she’d shown on holiday was finally remerging? He could only hope.
Nevertheless, it was still an awkward journey back in
to town. Stony silence hung in the air.
He glanced across. She had her arms folded. Her face was set in a scowl.
It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, knowing you’d royally pissed someone off, but it was preferable to seeing her tearful and lacking any fight.
‘I received your reference yesterday,’ he said, waiting for her reaction.
She flinched.
He thought as much. ‘Mr Malik had some very nice things to say about you.’ Most of which had been spelled incorrectly, leading him to the conclusion that her former employer was either dyslexic or not the ‘manager of a leading design house’ as he’d purported to be. ‘Remind me again of the company’s name?’
She gave him a sharp look. ‘Are you questioning the validity of my reference?’
‘No, but—’
‘Is there a problem with the quality of my costumes?’
‘No, but—’
‘You asked for a reference. I’ve provided a reference.’
‘I know, but—’
‘Pull over.’ She pointed to a layby. ‘It’s quicker to walk from here.’
He pulled over. ‘Just to clarify, are you refusing to tell me the name of the company you previously worked for?’
She got out of the car and opened the backdoor. ‘No, I’m focusing on the task in hand and prioritising my current position over dwelling on irrelevant details concerning my last position.’ She hauled the dress out.
‘Leave that, I’ll do it.’
‘I can manage.’ She slammed the car door and marched up the hill, weighed down by the bulk of the dress.
Fine. It wasn’t like he hadn’t offered.
He drove off, puzzled as to whether he should ignore the giant hole in her employment history and risk a lawsuit and his sister’s wrath if it all went pear-shaped, or drop the matter and hope things didn’t go tits up and leave him with egg on his face.
He’d let the matter go for now. But he’d be revisiting the issue of Lily’s unsuitability for the role of costume designer later – when his head wasn’t filled with childcare issues, Mad Hatter costumes, or a delay in filming.
Five minutes later, he was parked up back at the chapel.
Ironically, Lily was still lugging the dress up the hill. They arrived at St. George’s Chapel at exactly the same time. So not quicker to walk then, after all?
He waited for her to reach the building and then held the chapel door open. ‘After you.’
She brushed past him and headed down the centre aisle.
Choral music filled the air. The choir were in full voice, belting out a hymn as though they were performing to a packed congregation and not an empty chapel.
Lily’s agitated walk slowed as she took in her surroundings, no doubt struck by the wonder of the architecture and grandeur of the ornate carvings and huge stained-glass windows.
‘They’re filming in the private chapel,’ he said, urging her on. ‘This way.’
‘Fine,’ she snapped. She was still annoyed. Fair enough.
He extended his hand. ‘Can I carry the dress for you?’
‘No.’
That told him.
But her bluster faded slightly when she stepped into the private chapel and the director bellowed, ‘Finally! Nice of you to show up. Maybe we can get some filming done now.’
Will braced himself for her reaction. Tears? Shaking? Turning tail and running from the room?
But she surprised him by walking right up to the director and meeting his disgruntled gaze head-on. ‘The dress wasn’t scheduled to be ready until tomorrow. Megan’s scene wasn’t on the listing for today. And yet here it is, ready to go. So how about you stop yelling at me and appreciate the fact that I was able to respond to a sudden change in the schedule.’
The room stilled. Everyone waited with bated breath.
Including Will.
The director looked aghast.
Lily lifted her chin. ‘No? Nothing? Fine.’ She marched over to Megan. ‘In that case excuse me, I have an actress to dress.’
Will glanced at the director, wondering how he would react. But far from losing his rag and yelling back, he turned his attentions to the lighting set-up, seemingly unperturbed at being publicly challenged by an underling.
Across the room, a smiling Megan untied her dressing gown and let it drop to the floor. ‘You tell him, girl.’ She kissed Lily’s cheek, leaving a smudge of red lipstick. ‘Stand up for yourself.’
‘Something I’m rapidly learning to do,’ Lily said, sounding miffed.
Will watched on, with fascination. The mouse had roared back. And no one was more surprised than him.
Five minutes later, they were ready to start filming.
The tense atmosphere of earlier finally lifted when the director shouted, ‘Beginners!’ and turned and saw Megan’s dress. He switched from belligerent and grumpy, to gushing and enthused. ‘Darling! Exquisite! You’re a goddess.’
Will agreed. Megan Lawrence was a class apart. Yet despite her attractiveness, the dress was a thing of beauty in its own right. Whatever her faults, Lily Monroe was an extremely talented designer.
‘Well done, young woman,’ yelled the director with an approving grin.
Lily stepped forwards, as if introducing herself. ‘Lily Monroe,’ she said, her chin raised. ‘And thank you. I’m glad you approve. I think the dark red works well against the pale gold background, don’t you?’
Will held his breath. What the hell was she doing? Why was she bringing that up? Didn’t the woman know to quit while she was ahead?
Will braced himself, expecting an explosion, but the director nodded and said, ‘Absolutely. Excellent choice.’
Bloody hell.
Lily turned and winked at Will.
Why, the little minx.
He watched her saunter past, a sudden confidence to her walk.
‘Nice one,’ he said, his gaze drawn to her hypnotic sway.
‘You’re welcome,’ she said, making a point of picking up the continuity sheet lying on a pew. ‘Mustn’t forget this, must I?’
He couldn’t help laughing.
He wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but it felt like Lily had finally found some of the fire she’d displayed on holiday. And about time too.
Maybe things weren’t a complete disaster, after all.
Now all he had to do was ensure nothing else went wrong so he could head off and pick up his daughter for parents’ evening.
And then he remembered Poppy needed a costume for her play.
His troubles weren’t over yet.
Chapter Sixteen
Tuesday, 13 July
It had been raining all day. So much so, outdoor filming at Savill Gardens had to be cancelled. Trying to recreate a medieval wedding was challenging enough when the weather was good, but it was impossible when it was chucking it down. It would ruin the costumes for a start, something Lily had been quick to point out to the director, who hadn’t wanted to delay the schedule any further. Once she’d explained about the issues of naturally dyed fabrics and the colours bleeding into one another, he’d accepted her point and canned filming for the day.
See? She could do assertive. And she hadn’t had to raise her voice once.
In truth, she’d been glad of the extra day to finish the wedding clothes. Not that she’d admit as much. As far as the crew were concerned, she was good to go. Thank heavens for a little rain.
It was now late afternoon, and she was sipping a cup of tea and waiting for her young protégé to arrive.
Further to meeting Poppy last week, Zac had delivered a handwritten note from the young girl asking if Lily would help her make a costume for her school play. She’d offered her two weeks’ pocket money to put towards the material and signed the note with a giant heart and several kisses. It was a very sweet note.
Lily had replied to say she’d be delighted to help Poppy with her costume. And thanks to the arrival of bad weather, they’d been able to arrange the visit f
or today.
Lily didn’t mind the interruption to her busy schedule. Plus it seemed Zac was happy to offload his childminding responsibilities onto someone else for a few hours. So everyone was happy. How he’d got roped into looking after Poppy so often, she didn’t know. Apparently Poppy’s dad was a member of the project team and Zac was being paid extra to look after his kid.
At four p.m. on the dot, Poppy burst through the trailer door splashing rainwater everywhere, remembering at the last moment to wipe her feet before charging inside. ‘Hello!’ she called, shrugging off her wet coat.
Lily went over and shook the coat outside before hanging it up so it wouldn’t soak her latest design with muddy rainwater. Handwoven cream silk could not be put through the washing machine.
‘Do you want a drink?’ she asked Poppy, who was busy kicking off her school shoes.
‘No, thank you,’ she said, breathless and red-cheeked. And then she saw the dress on the tailor’s dummy. ‘Oh, wow! That’s soooo pretty.’
‘You like it?’
‘It’s beautiful.’ She ran over, shoving her hands behind her back, as if afraid to touch it. ‘Who’s it for?’
‘One of the actresses in the tour guide. It’s for a royal medieval wedding.’
Lily watched the little girl scan the floor-length cream dress with a tied bodice, and royal blue overcoat with traditional medieval waterfall sleeves. A narrow belt had been added to the waistband to accentuate Megan’s slim frame.
It was the result of more hours of painstaking hard work, leaving Lily with sore eyes, numerous pinpricks and tender fingers. But the result was worth the effort.
Poppy turned to her. ‘Is it for Megan?’
Lily raised an eyebrow. ‘You know who Megan is?’
‘She’s the lady Zac goes to see when he thinks I don’t know.’
Lily was shocked. Seriously? Megan and Zac…? Then she remembered Megan’s comment about falling for the ‘wrong guy’. Is that who she was referring to? ‘Really?’
Poppy nodded. ‘He says he’s practising doing her hair and make-up, but I know he’s not.’ She smiled. ‘People underestimate me.’
Someone Like You: Escape with this perfect uplifting romance Page 20