*
After the judgment, and the press conference, and the impromptu rally — which had started when a particularly virulent group of artists decided to take their chant to the streets, and marched to Fetch’s flagship store on Swanston Street — Saskia and Andy, Paddy, Alicia, Annie, Aiden and some of the others had retreated to a pub for lunch. They sat outside under umbrellas. The sky was blue and the air was still. The tips of the city’s trees had sprouted green shoots, heralding warmer days to come.
They toasted with steins of cider, laughed, and recounted the looks on the faces of the Fetch executives when the judgment was read, and how different they had been when they were confronted by the mob calling for a boycott on the court steps.
‘It was a moral victory,’ said Paddy.
‘It was a battle well fought,’ said Andy.
Once the table was cleared of their gravy smeared plates, everyone stood and made their excuses, leaving Andy and Saskia alone.
Saskia looked up at Andy, forcing herself to hold his gaze. ‘Big day,’ she said meekly.
‘How do you feel?’
‘I was disappointed. But now I’m excited.’
‘It is a beautiful cuff, Sas, but even if Fetch do continue to sell it, it’s just one cuff. You’ve got so much more to offer. This is just the start of your career.’
Saskia’s insides were a calamity of emotions. The response to the judgment had quelled her disappointment about the ruling. But now, something far greater seemed to be at stake. She and Andy were at a table, alone, for the first time in months, and the conversation wasn’t going the way she had imagined. He was staring into his glass. There was something on his mind, and Saskia was afraid of what it might be.
‘I wanted to say . . . you were right,’ he said finally. ‘I didn’t respect what you did. I thought my job was so important because it put food on the table, but really, I guess, subconsciously, I didn’t feel the same way about yours.’
Relief flowed through her. ‘I was wrong too,’ she said quickly. ‘Working on this case made me realise how much pressure you were under. How when you’re fighting for something you believe in, there’s always more that can be done, and the way I care about being a good jeweller is how you feel about the law.’
‘I think we both forgot our agreement to make time for each other.’
He took her hand, pulled her close and kissed her. Saskia pressed her body against Andy’s strong form and melted into him.
The moment was all the sweeter for the time they’d been apart. Saskia clung to Andy, and felt more love than she had ever thought possible. All of the shouting and harsh words and lonely nights were eviscerated by this kiss. It burned away the resentment. She realised she was grateful that it wasn’t a victory that had thrown them back together, but that they had faced a loss together, and come out stronger on the other side.
Day 363, Saturday, October 12
Saskia woke to banging on Randa’s front door.
‘Have you seen this?’ Alicia, still in pyjama pants, was on the doorstep, clutching a pile of newspapers.
Saskia rubbed her eyes and yawned. ‘What?’
‘Sas, it’s everywhere!’ Alicia thrust a copy of The Age at Saskia. ‘There’s a mass of people camped outside Harem with signs about boycotting Fetch. My website keeps crashing under the weight of customers wanting to buy your cuff. I’ve never seen anything like it. Look.’
It wasn’t the whole front page, but a thin strip down the side with a pointer to page six, where there was a photo of Magistrate Leckner holding the little silver curl in her hand, with Saskia and Andy standing behind her. ‘A Mountain Out of a Little Hill,’ the headline read. Further down was a photo of Saskia with a single-word caption: ‘Fighter’.
‘Come in, come in.’ Saskia, a little stunned, drew her friend inside and lay the papers on the table. ‘I never expected anything like this,’ she said, leafing through the Herald Sun that had dedicated the top half of page three to a colourful shot of the artists gathered outside the court.
Saskia’s phone rang.
It was Annie. ‘Sas! Turn on ABC radio.’
Saskia did as she was told and heard the voice of the television comedian Lenore Leckner. ‘Of course my sister showed me the cuff and it’s an absolutely gorgeous little thing,’ she said. ‘You can see how much work goes into something like that, and well, I’m just glad someone finally stood up for themselves. Any sort of creative industry is very punishing.’
‘You worked as a stand-up comedian for some time, did you ever any experiences of people ripping off your work?’ the presenter asked.
‘All the time, and it’s gutting, because you put your heart and soul into it. Anyone pursuing the arts knows it is so wretchedly hard to make a living. And then to have someone steal your work, well, it’s just devastating.’
‘So do you think people should boycott Fetch?’
‘Oh absolutely, I do. I’ll never shop there after this.’
‘Yeah!’ Alicia hollered, breaking into a laugh.
As Lenore Leckner began telling a story about a TV presenter who used to steal her jokes, Saskia’s phone rang again. ‘Aiden?’
‘Nash is talking about you on Triple J.’
‘What?’
‘Right now, put the radio on Triple J.’
Alicia flicked the radio dial and they heard the voice of the chart-topping, ex-Tombola.
‘I actually know Saskia Hill. This is something we’ve discussed in the past — the commercialisation of art and how detrimental it can be to its creation. People must boycott this fashion label whose business model is based on exploiting original creators.’
‘I can’t believe this,’ Saskia said.
The radio host continued. ‘Other designers have now come forward, we’re hearing, saying their concepts were also stolen by the company.’
‘What’s this?’ Andy padded into the kitchen in Saskia’s robe, his hair mussed up.
Alicia smothered a smile and handed him a newspaper: ‘Take a look.’
‘Sas, look, you’re in the weekend lift-out too,’ Andy said, folding back the cover of The Good Weekend so they could read the feature about the David-versus-Goliath battle for the right to sell a piece of jewellery.
Cecelia had included famous examples of fashion fraud, close-up photos of several of Saskia’s designs and a pointer to her website, plus another directing people to an online petition calling for Fetch to stop selling the knock-off.
‘Listen, listen,’ Saskia said.
The radio presenter was updating the story.
‘Fetch has issued a statement saying it has been vindicated by the judge’s ruling,’ the presenter read.
‘They’ll regret that,’ Andy said, sliding his arm around Saskia’s waist.
Throughout the day, friends and family dropped by to voice their support. They brought prosecco and food, and at six o’clock, everybody gathered around the television for the news. The ongoing protest at Fetch’s flagship store was the top story. The newsreader recounted Judge Flower’s comments as footage of the rally screened.
‘Despite the public outcry, the company says it will continue to sell the item,’ the newsreader said, sparking boos and hisses from the crowd in Randa’s living room.
‘Dozens of artists have voiced their opposition to the store. One online petition has more than fifty thousand signatures calling for Fetch to withdraw the cuff from sale.’
As they story segued into an interview with Magistrate Leckner, Andy’s phone rang. It was an offer to head up the intellectual property division of a mid-sized firm.
‘Another one?’ Saskia said. It was the third such call that day.
He nodded. ‘Yes, but I’m not sure I’m interested. You’ve inspired me. I’m beginning to think now might be the time to strike out on my own.’
‘Well, you know I’ll support you one hundred per cent,’ Saskia said, stroking his hair. ‘Whatever you decide to do.’
Dozens of je
wellery and specialist stores had called, begging Saskia to supply her items to their store. Jan McIntyre had called saying Dressage wanted to do a whole campaign around Melbourne’s home-grown artists, entitled Original Art.
*
It was late when Andy and Saskia stumbled into the Toorak flat, tipsy and giddy with joy. Saskia’s phone trilled again.
‘Another store desperate for your work?’ Andy asked. ‘I think we should open that bottle of Bollie we got for our engagement party and have one more drink, just the two of us.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
‘You’re not even going to look at it?’ he asked, when her phone rang again as he took out two glasses.
‘It can wait.’ She smiled. The ringing continued, insistent. It stopped a moment, then it rang again. When Saskia didn’t answer, a message arrived from Randa, in all capitals, screaming: TURN ON THE NEWS!
Andy aimed the remote and flicked on the late-night bulletin. The Fetch rally footage was playing again, followed by a close-up of Saskia’s cuff.
‘Following protests at Fetch stores in Melbourne, Sydney and Perth, the company has announced it will withdraw the item from sale,’ the newsreader said.
‘Ha! You did it,’ Andy yelled as the cork popped out of the bottle of Bollinger.
‘We did it,’ Saskia said, taking the glass he held out for her.
‘To us,’ he said, clinking his glass against hers.
‘To us,’ she said. ‘And a perfect start to our second year.’
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Mary Rennie who originally encouraged this idea, and to Anna Valdinger for her guidance and support as it developed. To Lucy Bennett and Alberta McKenzie and everyone at HarperCollins who worked behind the scenes on turning the manuscript into a book. I’m indebted to Dianne Blacklock, as always, for improving the manuscript with her sharp editing.
Thank you to early readers Jacinta White, Melinda Oliver and Bianca Hall for their enthusiasm, wise suggestions and generosity with their time. Thanks also to Ellinor Mazza for taking the time to talk to me about jewellery design and Andrew Cameron for filling in the gaps where I had legal queries. Any mistakes are mine. Also a big thank you to Anna Fox for your unwavering support and for buying approximately 100 copies of my first book. To Deb Disney for her close reading as a beta, and Tess Woods for her warmth and friendship. And to my mother, Margaret Blair and sister Vivien, who are my most honest critics and biggest supporters.
About the Author
GENEVIEVE GANNON is an Australian journalist and author. Her work has appeared in The Age, The Australian, The Guardian and the Daily Telegraph. Most recently she covered crime in Melbourne for Australian Associated Press before moving to Sydney to be a feature writer for the Australian Women’s Weekly.
Her favourite books are We Need To Talk About Kevin, Middlesex, Atonement, Prep and One Day. She likes Terry’s Chocolate Oranges and wasabi (not together) and hates mangoes.
Her first book, Husband Hunters, was published in 2014, followed by Chasing Chris Campbell in 2015. The First Year is her third novel.
Twitter: @gen_gannon
Instagram: @gen_gannon
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GenevieveGannonAuthor/
Web: genevievegannon.net
Also by Genevieve Gannon
Husband Hunters
Chasing Chris Campbell
Copyright
Impulse
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
First published in Australia in 2016
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
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harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Genevieve Gannon 2017
The right of Genevieve Gannon to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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The First Year Page 34