The First Year

by Genevieve Gannon

  ‘At least six unique items. And not just variations on the cuff. I need bold! I need brave! I want this cuff to be just one of a whole range of daring pieces of wearable art.’

  ‘We take a forty per cent cut of all sales,’ Lorelie added.

  ‘Forty per cent?’

  ‘We do all the shipping and administration, and of course our website attracts the buyers.’

  ‘Over a hundred thousand unique page hits a day.’

  ‘Nearly a million a week.’

  ‘A million?’ Saskia breathed. ‘I could never keep up.’

  ‘Everything is handmade. Our customers know out stock is limited and they’re getting something unique. That’s what makes it so desirable.’

  Saskia exhaled. ‘Okay. So what next?’

  Jan passed over a printed list.

  ‘These are the items we want and the quantities we need before we go live with a product. The numbers aren’t unmanageable. We want to see what sort of reception they get.’

  Saskia ran her eye over the list. One hundred Roman hero wreath cuffs. Sixty Sol Invictus cuffs. Sixty Icarus rings. Sixty Maximus cuffs. She felt light-headed. ‘You didn’t like the vine cuff?’

  ‘It was a bit wishy-washy,’ Jan said.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Saskia, it was fine. But it wasn’t Dressage material. We maintain a high standard. I can assure you, you can be very proud of everything we ordered. We just thought the vine cuff wasn’t quite there.’

  Saskia nodded firmly. ‘I can manage this.’

  ‘By Easter?’

  She paused for a nanosecond. ‘Yes, by Easter.’

  ‘Good. We go live with the new winter range the week after the Easter break. We want everything in place by then.’

  Saskia counted how many days she had. Not many. Still, she had managed fifty in seven days, and she was far more efficient now.

  ‘Okay.’ Saskia smiled.

  ‘We’ll be in touch.’ Jan stood and held out her hand.

  ‘Thank you,’ Saskia said. ‘What do you think?’ she asked Alicia once they were outside.

  Alicia hugged her. ‘I think this could change everything.’

  Day 152, Thursday, March 12

  ‘Your honour, this is hardly fair.’ Andy was leaning forward over the bar table, looking up at the judge. ‘How can you allow this to proceed?’

  ‘Hmm,’ Justice Wiener, wrinkled and bored, scratched the end of his nose. ‘Mr Colbrook makes a good point, Mr Fortescue. Why was this not included in the original brief?’

  Andy’s opponent, Michael Fortescue QC, took off his glasses and said, in a tone dripping with condescension, ‘Your honour, we simply didn’t know this evidence existed. Mr Briar — the witness — only came forward this morning. We faxed his statement to your chambers, and to Harris, Morse and Lowe immediately. My learned friend has had ample time to—’

  ‘Your honour!’ Andy interjected, not knowing quite what he intended to say. He could feel himself sliding forward as his sweaty palms started to slip on the wood. If he removed them, two smeary handprints would reveal his panic to all.

  Not that his concern was unwarranted. The new witness was completely unexpected and sounded very dangerous to the House of Hiraani case.

  ‘Yes?’ Judge Weiner asked innocently, knowing the lawyer in front of him had nowhere to go. Andy made eye contact with Krystyn, who was sitting on the opposite side of the bar table. She shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘Your honour,’ Andy said, ‘could I have ten minutes to seek instructions?’

  ‘Very well. But, Mr Colbrook, I should let you know, I do intend to allow this witness.’

  Andy felt the colour drain from his face. ‘Yes, your honour.’

  *

  Saskia lifted the third plastic case into her car. She had negotiated the price of the silver down, but her supplier wouldn’t budge on the gold, which was proving popular with her online buyers. She’d had to spend two thousand dollars to purchase enough material to complete her orders — by far the most she’d ever bought at once. Looking at it stacked in the back of her rusty car made her simultaneously sick with nerves and thrilled. She slammed the car boot closed and soon she was singing along happily with the radio as she drove towards Brunswick.

  She arrived at the Barton Building where she slid the cases of silver into some of the reusable shopping bag strewn throughout her boot, that looked like they used it as a breeding ground. Ziggy was coming out of the building as she began heaving her bags up the steps. She hoped he wouldn’t want to chat.

  ‘Saskia, how are the ear testicles?’

  ‘Hi, Zig, they’re good,’ she called, not stopping as she skipped up the stairs with the shopping bags hanging heavily over her shoulder.

  In her studio, she knelt in front of her cupboard and began to fill it with supplies. There was barely enough room. She knocked on the inside wall, assessing its sturdiness, and thought that it would be worth looking into getting a safe for her materials, now that she was buying them in such large volumes. But for now this would have to do.

  She slid on the padlock, snapped it closed and stood up. She needed to deliver some rings to Frederick’s mother’s shop in Fitzroy.

  She made sure she locked her studio door before she left.

  *

  ‘Shit,’ Krystyn said as soon as the door to the interview room was closed. ‘Shit shit shit!’ She slammed her briefcase down on the table.

  ‘What was that?’ Andy muttered, scraping his hair back. ‘I mean what the hell was that?’

  ‘Just heard from the witness this morning? What BS,’ Krystyn spat.

  ‘What are we going to do about this?’

  ‘We’re going to tell Bright Box to settle, that’s what we’re going to do.’ She pulled her phone from her bag and dialled the client’s number.

  ‘No!’ Andy grabbed her handset from her. ‘We have to come up with something.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Krystyn snatched it back. ‘We’re not going to win, Andy.’

  ‘We’ve cross-examined other House of Hiraani workers. Nobody has been able to give any evidence that the similarities between the two rose patterns was deliberate. All this guy has is browser history. That’s not proof of anything.’

  ‘It could be enough, Andy. This is already a very close-run case. If he testifies that they told him to—’

  ‘Maybe this is a tactic,’ he cut in. ‘To scare us. Maybe they want us to settle.’

  The anger cleared from Krystyn’s face, then her eyes narrowed. ‘Why do you care so much about winning this case?’

  Andy turned his back to Krystyn and walked to the other side of the interview room. ‘I care about winning every case,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

  ‘But not if we can’t win it.’ She came towards him, scrutinising his face. ‘Settling is their best option at this point. You know that. There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?’ She was so close he could smell the powder on her face. ‘Andy, tell me. What’s going on?’

  ‘Harris said not to settle. He wants to win. He wants Bright Box on the books. He said we need it. The firm needs it. He doesn’t want a settlement.’

  ‘But that’s bad advice, Andy. Don’t you think we’re better off telling them they haven’t got an honest hope of winning and they should make an offer now?’

  Andy wavered, but only for a minute. He punched his fist into his hand. ‘There has to be a solution.’

  ‘Stop that,’ Krystyn snapped. ‘The solution is to tell them to settle.’

  ‘We can’t settle,’ he said, exasperated. Harris had made it very clear he held Andy’s future in his hand, and he had given firm instructions.

  ‘Harris doesn’t know about this new witness. Make the call, Andy.’ Krystyn held her phone out.

  Andy breathed out heavily. ‘You’re right.’ He put his phone on the table and dialled, then turned on the speaker.

  In the time it took the call to connect, the assistant to fin
d Mr Barrett, and for Mr Barrett to accept the call, Andy felt like he’d sweated out half his body weight. In his mind, the fate of the entire firm rested on this case.

  ‘Hello, Andrew. What’s the latest?’

  ‘We think, sir, we think it might be time to make an offer.’

  ‘An offer?’

  ‘A settlement offer to Foxy Frocks.’

  ‘But you said we could win.’ This sentence was pure consternation.

  ‘Sir, it’s Krystyn,’ she said. ‘There’s a new witness. Someone we weren’t aware of until this morning.’

  ‘And who is this new witness?’

  ‘He’s a former designer from the House of Hiraani. He claims to have records of his browser history from when he was working at the company.’

  ‘What does it say?’

  ‘We’re expecting it to show he visited the Foxy Frocks website while working for House of Hiraani.’

  ‘So what? That doesn’t prove anything.’

  ‘It does if he gives evidence he was directed to the website, which is what we’re expecting him to do.’

  ‘How much are you suggesting I offer this opportunist?’

  ‘Maybe, seventy-five thousand.’

  ‘Seventy-five thousand dollars? Her lousy company isn’t worth a tenth of that.’ His voice was cool.

  ‘She’ll get a lot more if she wins.’

  ‘What do you think, Colbrook?’

  Krystyn tutted, annoyed Barrett was deferring to Andy.

  ‘Sir, I think it would be wise to settle,’ he said. ‘In light of what we now know.’

  Mr Barrett said, ‘Hmm,’ then was quiet for a minute.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘No. No settlement,’ he barked. ‘Let me know how it goes.’ The line went dead.

  ‘Shit,’ said Krystyn.

  *

  Foxy Frocks’ star witness, Mr Briar, climbed the stairs to the witness stand. Andy’s stomach turned as he watched him from the bar table. Briar was a young man with severely plucked eyebrows and a pointed chin. He made Andy think of a marionette: rosy-cheeked, wooden and unblinking.

  Foxy Frocks’ barrister — God knows how she was able to afford him — got to his feet.

  ‘Mr Briar, please tell the court how long you worked for House of Hiraani?’

  ‘HoH hired me as a graduate designer in February 2013,’ Mr Briar answered confidently. Rehearsed. Andy gulped. Briar had been coached.

  ‘And could you tell us, please, Mr Briar, what did that entail?’ Michael Fortescue’s voice boomed across the courtroom.

  Mr Briar started picking at the cultivated hole in the elbow of his distressed denim jacket. ‘Coffee runs. Lunch runs. We were basically interns. But because I showed promise I was allowed to be involved in the development of the summer line.’

  ‘And can you tell us about that?’

  ‘We were told to take inspiration from Melbourne street wear. Foxy Frocks was one of about five names they mentioned. They said, “Capture the spirit. But don’t copy directly”.’

  ‘Do you have any memos, any emails to this effect?’

  ‘No. Nothing was ever written down. But I have printed screenshots of my browser history from the three months I worked there. I spent hours on the Foxy Frocks website.’

  Fortescue needled Briar. He wanted to know who had directed him to look at the websites and how specific had they been. In just forty minutes he managed to extract a small mound of evidence to lay on HoH’s feet and possibly tip the scales in favour of his client.

  Justice Weiner nodded. ‘Cross examination, Mr Colbrook.’

  Andy got to his feet. ‘Mr Briar, who exactly told you to look at other designers’ websites?’

  ‘They said we should use those labels as inspiration. So, I started on their websites.’

  ‘But nobody explicitly told you to spend four hours of your working day online, looking at clothes.’

  ‘Well they said—’

  ‘Mr Briar, please just answer the question. Did anyone in management at the House of Hiraani say to you, Mr Briar, please look at the websites of emerging designers and use their ideas to inform the designs for our next season.’

  Mr Briar folded his arms. ‘Nobody said that.’

  ‘And nothing was ever written down, there are no emails, or directions, or memos about taking your inspiration from other designers, nothing you can show us?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘All you really have then, is evidence that you looked at the websites while working for House of Hiraani, and your word.’

  Mr Briar scowled across the courtroom at Andy.

  ‘Why else would I spent four hours on a vintage-inspired dress website?’

  Andy smiled. ‘Your personal interests are not on trial here, Mr Briar.’

  Out of the corner of his eye, Andy saw Krystyn smile.

  ‘Thank you, counsellors,’ Judge Weiner said. ‘I will reserve my decision.’

  *

  Saskia sat in the middle of her studio floor behind an open laptop, amid trays of silver. Near her left foot was a pad covered in sums and a calculator. Scraps of paper surrounded her. They were old agreements with stockists. The whole mess was her erstwhile business plan.

  ‘Hey, Sas.’ Ziggy was at her door.

  Her skin prickled. ‘Hi, Zig. What’s up?’ She wasn’t in the mood to humour him.

  ‘Whatcha doing?’

  ‘Just inventory stuff.’

  ‘You haven’t got a fiver, have you?’ He leaned against the doorframe before invoking the ancient Barton Building creed: ‘I’ll pay you back.’

  Saskia checked her jeans pockets, then went to her bag and opened her wallet. She knew there was nothing in there, but she went through the motions so Ziggy knew it too.

  ‘Sorry, Zig.’ She held open the coin pouch to prove it was empty. ‘I’d give it to you if I had it.’

  He didn’t say anything immediately, instead his eyes wandered around the room. On the bench was a series of cuffs in various stages of development.

  ‘Big project coming up?’

  ‘Something like that. Zig, I’m really busy, so—’

  ‘Say no more.’ Ziggy held his hands up like an innocent man accused. ‘I’ll be on my way.’

  Day 150, Friday, March 20

  ‘What are these?’ Saskia asked, digging her fingers into the tray of sparkly clear stones. She was back at her metal supplier searching for gems she could use in the new designs she was working on for Dressage.

  ‘Herkimer diamonds,’ Kevin said.

  ‘Diamonds? For two dollars a gram?’

  ‘They’re not really diamonds.’ Kevin held one up to their light. ‘They’re double-terminated quartz from Herkimer county in New York state. Clear quartz with the same clarity and hardness found in Tibet and Afghanistan have different names. Only stones mined in New York can be called Herkimer diamonds.’

  He handed Saskia a bag of the stones. She spilled them out onto her palm where they glittered, tiny and perfect. Their natural facets were uneven, giving the stones an irregular shape that was pleasingly bohemian. They cost more than she had planned on paying, but she wanted them. She was starting to think like Alicia now. A special kind of diamond mined only in New York would sell well in Melbourne, quartz from the side of a mountain in Afghanistan would not.

  ‘I’ll take a hundred grams, thanks.’

  As Kevin weighed the gems, Saskia reached into her bag and pulled out her notebook. She scrawled: New York series based around Herkimer diamonds. Great cities? Reflect their stories? She visualised Gatsby-era motifs that incorporated Herkimer diamonds. Or something edgier? Grittier? Or more complex? A pattern based on the Chrysler building’s spire? She wrote these ideas down too.

  At lunch, she went to the drawer where she kept packets of dried noddles and instant porridge and selected some beef-flavoured instant ramen. She put her kettle on to boil, then poured the piping hot water into a cup. She sat on her stool, sipping the oily salty broth, and contemplated h
er various deadlines. The heat seeping through the mug soothed her aching fingers.

  The Herkimer diamonds were clear and hard, but they had a slightly irregular, rough quality that other diamond imitators like cubic zirconias didn’t. They were a beautiful dustiness to them, and she couldn’t wait to show Dressage, and Alicia and Annie, something that incorporated these lovely stones.

  *

  Andy and Krystyn had had an anxious week’s wait before they received word Judge Weiner had reached a decision in the matter of Foxy Frocks versus House of Hiraani.

  ‘You look calm,’ Andy said to Krystyn, who was sitting on one of the benches outside the court room, waiting for the double doors to be unlocked.

  ‘I’ve already resigned myself to the loss.’

  ‘I thought I came back rather strong.’

  ‘You did. But those designs are so similar, and then after Mr Briar gave evidence . . .’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Andy said, still clinging to hope.

  John Barrett was walking towards the courtroom now, his hands sunk deep into the pockets of his double-breasted suit.

  ‘Andrew.’ He shook Andy’s hand. Krystyn presented hers but Barrett ignored it and instead swung his arm around Andy’s neck, the way a football coach might. ‘Let’s see if you really do have the Midas touch Harris promised.’

  Shortly after they entered the courtroom, Judge Weiner came onto the bench and dispensed with the case. ‘I find in favour of Foxy Frocks. Damages of three hundred thousand dollars to be awarded, plus costs. I publish my reasons.’

  ‘At least it was a quick death,’ Krystyn said.

  Andy’s mouth hung open.

  Judge Weiner’s associate handed out the thirty-page ruling that outlined the areas of law he had relied on to reach the conclusion that House of Hiraani had breached Foxy Frocks’ copyright.

  ‘I guess you don’t,’ John Barrett said, getting up and leaving without waiting to be briefed on the judge’s reasons.

  *

  Saskia was building a prototype of a matching ring and ear cuff set. Each piece had at its centre a single Herkimer diamond. She was starting to bend the ring and her mandrel when Andy called.