by Ali Harris
Chapter 6
Tuesday 19th November
35 shopping days until Christmas
The months pass quickly between my meeting with Rupert, the beginning of the new season and the launch of Angelo’s collection at Hardy’s. Four months isn’t long to design and make a whole collection, but I just know we can do it. David has been working tirelessly – as have I, travelling to and from Tetbury to look over his designs; to Italy with him to help choose materials, and then back to Tetbury, simply to watch him and Maria work.
It’s been fascinating watching the shoe-making process – the meticulousness of his concentration on the fit, length and shape, the beautiful stitch-work, not to mention how Maria compliments him by working to perfectly enhance his exquisite designs on the details – whether it’s lace appliques, crystals, or beadwork. They’re a great team. Something that can’t be said of Sam and me right now.
‘You off to Angelo’s again?’ he’d said, without looking at me as he got Sophie ready for school this morning.
‘Yep, just till tomorrow though. I’m going down to look at some specially sourced silks for David’s collection.’
‘Right... And you’re staying overnight?’ He’d looked at me meaningfully, but I’d missed whatever point he was trying to make. Was he jealous? Of David? Surely not!
‘Yes, Maria is cooking dinner – she wants to say thank you.’ I look at Sam who doesn’t look any happier – even at the mention of David’s wife. ‘They invited you too, remember? But we couldn’t get a babysitter...’
‘I don’t need a babysitter, Evie.’ Sophie had interjected proudly. ‘I’m, like, seven now, you know.’ She grins at me and I mouth, “I know, right?” as if I’m in on a secret and her dad isn’t. It’s a little game we play that has really helped bring us closer together.
Sam had folded his arms as he’d gazed at her. Not for the first time I’d noticed how much Sophie looks like her dad, with her barley blonde ringlets and wide, one penny piece eyes. She even has his dimples. ‘Oh you think you’re such a big girl huh?’ Sam had said swinging her into his arms with ease. ‘Too big to be carried like a baby?’ He’d flipped her on to her back and she’d squealed and flung her head back with delight, kicking her legs as Sam had cradled her whilst crooning a lullaby. I’d got in on the act by tickling her tummy and she’d giggled hysterically making Sam and I smile indulgently at each other before suddenly remembering we were in the middle of a barbed “discussion”. He’d hurriedly dropped a kiss on her forehead before lowering her back down on the floor.
‘Good news Sophster, as a special treat you can watch five minutes of TV before school... ok?’ Sophie had squealed and skipped off into the lounge. A minute later CBBC blared out of the room and we were alone to talk.
Except clearly Sam didn’t want to. He’d immediately turned and grabbed Sophie’s cardigan and bag from the coat pegs as I’d hovered by the front door, overnight case in hand. He made no effort to speak and was clearly annoyed. I genuinely didn’t know why we were arguing about this.
‘So anyway, I’ll be back after work tomorrow,’ I’d said conversationally, pulling on a dark green pea coat, tugging my ponytail out from the collar and pinning a beret to my head. ‘Although I’ll probably have to pull a late one, I’m over seeing Jan Baptysta as he’s working on the design for the Angelo Shoes display. It’s going to be the most spectacular one we’ve ever had. I want to make sure we get it completely right...’ I trailed off mid-sentence because Sam still hadn’t said a word or even turned around.
‘... Are you alright Sam?’
‘I’m fine, Evie,’ Sam had said, clearly not alright at all. ‘You’ve obviously forgotten I’m off on an editorial trip tomorrow.’ He’d paused and I’d racked my brains but couldn’t remember anything about it. ‘Brazil? For five days? And then back briefly before I’m going to Mexico...’ He’d shaken his head in dismay as I’d looked at him blankly. ‘I told you Evie, but you’re so consumed with all this shoemaker stuff that it’s like you don’t notice anything that goes on around here anymore! It’s been like this for months – ever since we went to Tetbury. I’ve been telling myself it’ll get better, trying to make an effort. I arrange nights out for us, and for Sophie – but even then you come as an afterthought. It’s like we’re way down on your priority list...’
‘No!’ I cry, and then instantly lower my voice. I don’t want Sophie to overhear our disagreement. ‘That’s not fair, Sam. Of course you’re not! I love you both... so much, you know that!’
Sam looks at me and I see a flash of remorse as he takes in the tears and my shame. He rubs his forehead. ‘I’m sorry Evie, I just miss you.’
I take a step closer and clutch his hand. ‘And I’m so sorry if I’ve neglected you both. But Sam, it’s been a really stressful time at work—’
‘I know,’ Sam says, dropping my hand. ‘Look, I’m sorry ok? Go and spend the day with your latest protégé, by all means. We’ll sort it all out when I get back from my trips. By then you’ll have done the Christmas store makeover and perhaps you’ll have some time for us...’
I don’t know what possesses me, maybe it’s the condescending tone I think he uses, maybe it’s disappointment that Sam isn’t the perfect, patient boyfriend I thought he was. Maybe because, in the three years since I was last in a relationship, I decided that I’d never put my work, or myself to one side for a man again.
‘Oh yes, because you never do night shoots when I finish early from Hardy’s, you’re always here on Saturdays instead of doing street style shoots while Sophie and I are hanging out. I understand completely why you think I’ve neglected you.’ He looks remorseful and I pause and look at him staunchly. ‘You know my work and I aren’t mutually exclusive, this isn’t just a job to me Sam, it’s my life. I thought you knew that.’
There is a long silence as Sam contemplates what I’ve just said. I decide it’s now or never to say how I really feel.
‘You’ve always told me that the baby years are hard, well Sam, I know that, because my career is still a baby! You know how miserable I was stuck in the stockroom! I love you and Sophie and you’re more important to me than anything, but I need you to know that I’m not going to change.’
‘I understand,’ Sam says and for a moment I think I’ve made him see my point of view. ‘Are you still going to Tetbury?’ he asks quietly.
I nod, without looking at him.
‘Fine,’ he says evenly. ‘I’ll be back in a few days but only briefly. Sophie’s going to be staying with Ella for the next few weeks leading up to Christmas as I have so many shoots coming up.’
I try to think quickly, panicking that we won’t have any quality time together for so long. ‘Ok, well maybe I can call Maria and see if we can postpone the dinner?’ I offer. ‘I’m sure she won’t mind. Although,’ I add, rubbing my forehead, ‘I’ve just remembered that I offered to pick up Gabe Junior from school for them so they could carry on working through the afternoon...’
Sam smiles wryly. ‘Adopted babysitter too, are we?’
‘You know I love kids. And I like to help people as much as I can,’ I reply defensively.
‘It was a joke, Evie.’ He drops a kiss on my forehead, similar to the one he gave Soph. If it’s meant to make me feel better, it doesn’t. I don’t even know when he’s serious any more. ‘I know you like helping. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you.’
‘I really won’t go if it means missing seeing you and Soph off properly though,’ I look up and kiss him, trying to swallow back my sorrow. As our lips part I see his eyebrows pull together, there’s a flicker of something undistinguishable across his face and I feel sick. For the first time in ages, I can’t work out what he’s thinking, a thought which sends a cold wave of fear down my body. Is this what happens when a relationship is breaking down? You stop hearing and understanding each other? You stop knowing what the other is thinking? What they’re doing?
I bite my lip and grip his hand tightly
. I feel terrible that I forgot he had so many foreign shoots coming up and that Sophie will be away. It’s going to feel so weird without them here. Lily’s right, I am letting work consume me. I vow to make it up to Sam and Sophie – just as soon as this launch is over.
‘I love you Sam,’ I say as I kiss him again. ‘I know things have to change – and I promise, they will.’
‘I hope so Evie,’ he’d replied.
It was a comment that didn’t fill me with the greatest of confidence. It’s also a comment I’ve dissected over and over in my mind ever since he left, analysing each word individually and putting it back together, until I get a frustrating final diagnosis of: Intention Unknown. That, coupled with his throwaway comment ‘It’s why I fell in love with you’ (past tense, not why I’m in love with you) has been enough to drive me mad.
Only David’s shoe collection has kept me on the straight and narrow while Sam’s been gone. But I’ve still had a few wobbles and come very close to sending various needy text messages of the ‘I love you, don’t leave me!’ variety. ‘I’m sorry for being a terrible girlfriend!’ You know the sort of thing. But everyone knows women should always refrain from texting their actual feelings in situations like this. Instead I’ve kept it light whilst torturing myself with thoughts of him, thinking about all the Brazilian beach babes he will have met and imagining him playing volleyball with Gisele look-a-likes.
Luckily, Sam is back tomorrow – albeit fleetingly – and today is the final time I see David before he brings the collection up to Hardy’s next month, ready for the big unveiling.
I press the buzzer and wait outside the door. Sunshine is flooding the shop-front which looks so much better now that the windows have been cleaned and the cobwebs and sand bags have gone.
David opens the door with a bright smile and waves me in. ‘Come in Evie! Maria’s is in the back. We’ve been working all night. And Mum and Dad have even come over to help!’ David says happily as he leads me through to the back room.
I walk in to find a hive of activity in the workroom. Music is playing on an old 1950s radio but it can barely be heard above the chatter and hammering.
‘Hullo Evie,’ I feel a tug at my trouser leg and look down and smile as Gabe Jr grins up at me. He’s the image of his father with a shock of dark hair and olive skin. I bend down and give him a hug but he just points at my shoes until I notice I’m standing on a bit of leather. I lift it up and he swipes if from underneath before putting it in an offcuts cubbyhole and then doing the same to Maria, who dutifully lifts both feet without pausing from her work. ‘He’s chief leather picker-upper today, aren’t you?’ Gabe Junior nods feverishly before dropping to his hands and knees to pick up more off cuts of leather. Maria laughs as he lifts up her feet one by one and calls over her shoulder. ‘He’s taking his role very seriously!’
‘It’s a real family affair here today,’ David says, nodding at his parents who are sat at the long trestle table and are hard at work.
‘Afternoon Mr and Mrs Angelo!’ I call out and Gabe Senior glances up and smiles at me, his Mediterranean blue eyes sparkling underneath a sweep of thick, dark (dyed) hair. ‘Evie. Nice to see you again!’ He gets up and opens his arms to embrace me as he always does. I laugh because he’s tiny, 5’4 at the most, so his arms end up practically around my waist. In true Italian tradition David’s father is a very warm, demonstrative man and both he and his wife, Giuliana, completely embraced me as one of their own.
‘Gee Gee!’ Mr Angelo turns and calls his wife. ‘Come and say hi to Evie!’ David’s mum, a lovely, sparkly 68 year old woman with long fair hair coiled into an intricate up do, turns and smiles at me. She has warm olive green eyes and a perfect rosebud mouth with a startlingly bright white set of teeth. ‘Have I ever told you why I call her Gee Gee?’ Gabe Senior asks, and I shake my head. He rubs his fingers and winks. ‘We’d be millionaires if it wasn’t for my Gee Gee’s gambling habit!’
Giuliana rolls her eyes underneath her trademark set of false eyelashes. ‘Do ignore him Evie, he’s a wonderful shoemaker but a terrible wind-up merchant!’ She stands up and walks over to me with arms outstretched, grasps my hands and squeezing them tightly before planting a kiss on both my cheeks. ‘I know I’ve said this many times before, but thank you Evie, for this opportunity. It means everything to this family.’ I nod, feeling choked by her gratitude.
‘So how’s everything going?’ I ask, glancing around the workshop and walking over to Maria. As I take a step closer and see how expertly her fingers are working, slowly, evenly and delicately on the embellishments.
‘This looks beautiful!’ I gasp.
‘No one can beat Maria’s eyes for attention to detail and exquisite stitching. Except, perhaps, me, Mum and Dad!’ David laughs.
In response Maria proudly holds up the beautiful pair of shoes she’s busily sewing appliqued sequinned flowers to.
I look down the centre of the room, and see half a dozen pairs of shoes in a rainbow of jewel tones.
I put my hand out tentatively to pick one of them up and hold it up to the light, turning it so I can see the delicate, sensual curve of the heel, the arch of the upper, the beautiful embellishments. All have the Angelo Shoes trademark label – the wings stitched into the inside of the shoes. But whilst all are stunningly beautiful, it is one pair that I’m particularly drawn to.
‘David, these are just! They’re... I mean, they’re beyond... I’m speechless!’ I say picking up and gazing at a pair of unfinished delicate, gold silk high-heeled sandals with burnished gold feathered angel wings spread across the toes. ‘These are just – perfection! An absolute trademark design. They couldn’t have been made by anyone but you! How many do you have left to make?’
‘That’s the last one.’ David says proudly. ‘It’s not finished yet though. But we’re making one of every size in each style – well, except the one you’re holding – so Hardy’s customers can try them on. It’s been tough but we’ve all been working day and night for months. And with the generous amount you’ve paid me it’s been worth it!’
‘Good,’ I laugh. ‘I have a feeling the orders are going to be rolling in for these once they go on display.’
‘Or even before,’ David says and then puts his hand over his mouth guiltily. Everyone looks at him. ‘Bugger, I wasn’t going to tell you, but I’ve already had a pre-order!’
‘Really?’ I frown. ‘That’s strange. But we haven’t even advertised your shoe collection yet! And, hang on,’ I say as something else David said rattles around in my brain. ‘Why aren’t you making more sizes of this one I’m holding? It’s a sure-fire classic!’
‘I wasn’t going to tell you this either, but someone very important has been in touch.’ I tilt my head and smile. I don’t want him to know just how concerned I am about all this information he “doesn’t want to tell me”. Rupert will kill me if I don’t keep control of this order. ‘They said they had it on good authority that I make the best shoes in the country, gave me some specific details of the very special person these shoes will be made for, and asked for a bespoke design exclusively for them. I didn’t think you’d mind...’
‘Oh, who is it for?’ I ask lightly.
David pulls an apologetic face. ‘I’m afraid I’ve been sworn to secrecy, Evie. If I told you, I’d have to kill you!’ And he runs his fingers across his neck, execution style.
‘A special person?’ I say, my heart pounding faster than usual as realisation dawns. ‘Oh David, you don’t mean? I mean, no, it’s impossible... isn’t it?’ My mind has flown to palaces and princesses, the Royal feathers. I look down at the feathery Angel wing shoes in my hand and I squeal with delight.
‘I know who it is!’
‘Glad to see you’re excited,’ David smiles.
‘Are you kidding? I’m ecstatic!’
Could Camilla have come across my newly discovered shoemaker on a weekend shopping trip from Highgrove? Or even – I almost can’t breathe enough to allow oxygen to my
brain to think the name, let alone say it – Kate?
‘They said they’d pop in when they’re back in the country. Apparently they travel a lot. And the shoes are going to be well photographed...’
I look at the pair in my hands and try not to squeal with delight. ‘They’re right there, David!’ I say trying to cover the fact that my mind is a-buzz. We could call the shoe the ‘Princess Kate’! I’m already imagining it at the centre of the display I’ve been working on. Right in the spotlight.
‘Can I just ask a favour Evie?’ David interrupts my wild imaginings with his words. ‘They’re not finished yet, but can you try them on?’ He glances down. ‘You’re a size 4 aren’t you?’ he grins.
‘How did-’ I say in astonishment, but he holds his hand up.
‘Do you really think after working in the shoe trade for fifty years that I’d need to ask your shoe size?’
I laughed. ‘Fair point!’
‘You’ll be doing me a massive favour. Maria here has got great big size 7 hooves, so she’s no good...’
‘It’s true!’ Maria calls.
‘And Mama doesn’t have the high instep of her youth. I want someone the same size to try it so I can get the line just so... ahhh yes. I see, mmhmm... yes yes...’
I wait with bated breath for him to finish his inspection. ‘Perfect!’ he says at last. ‘The recipient of these shoes is a very lucky lady.’
‘A VIP?’ I say and he looks at me as he winks and taps the side of his nose.
‘Definitely.’
I smile thinking of the wonderful balcony wedding kiss between Kate and William and imagining them coming to the store – maybe it would become Kate’s favoured department store; she’ll frequent it like Princess Diana used to go to Harvey Nichols...
‘So what about you?’ David asks, interrupting my daydream again.
‘Huh? What about me?’ I say slipping off the shoes and handing them back to him.
‘I know that you’re loved, but are you in love, too? The way you keep drifting off tells me you probably are... Sam, right? How are things with you two? Maria and I were hoping to see him soon.’