There were huge, bright sketches of shoes on the walls, a rainbow of coloured leathers stacked on racks, and boxes of all sorts of buttons, zips, beads and feathers on a large worktable in the middle of the room. Ellie longed to take a closer look at all the trimmings, but before she could move further into the room a young woman dressed in a beautiful green velvet coat appeared.
“Hi! I’m Bohemia. You’ve come from Heart for the young shoe collection?”
“Yes. I’m Ellie,” said Ellie and she shook Bohemia’s hand. “And yes, I have come for the shoes. They’re going to be photographed this afternoon.”
“They’re almost ready,” said Bohemia. “I’ve just been packing them up. We’re very excited about this new collection. Monsieur Jacob has never designed for young people before.”
“I’m sure they’re lovely,” said Ellie. “I can’t wait to see them.”
Just then the entryphone buzzed and Bohemia went to answer it. In a couple of minutes, Joe appeared at the top of the stairs.
“This is Joe, the person who is going to photograph your shoes,” said Ellie.
“Oh yes, we’ve met,” said Bohemia. “Hello, Joe. It’s good you’re here. Monsieur Jacob has been fretting about the shoot. Can you excuse me a moment? I’ll go and fetch him.” She disappeared into a back room. In a few moments she returned with an elderly man. He had a lot of pure white hair and was rather stooped. Ellie guessed at once that he must be Jacob Frou.
Jacob Frou and Joe shook hands. The designer obviously knew the photographer quite well. Immediately, Joe, Monsieur Frou and Bohemia got involved in a discussion about the shoot. The shoe designer had some very definite ideas about how his collection should be photographed, and Joe listened politely, although Monsieur Frou didn’t seem to think that Joe was taking everything he said seriously enough. Ellie enjoyed looking round the studio while they talked, and just caught snippets of their conversation.
“No! No!” Jacob Frou sounded scandalized. “All my shoes must be worn! I don’t want any photographed unworn. They need feet in them. And the right feet too!”
Joe tried to placate him. “But other designers—”
Jacob Frou drew himself up as straight as his bent back would allow him. “I am not other designers. If you cannot agree to make sure my shoes are worn for all the shots, I will not allow my shoes out of this workshop.” He folded his arms and glared at Joe.
Joe glared back. “I’m just telling you how I’ve been briefed. I can make your shoes look beautiful, even when they aren’t being worn by anybody.”
Ellie shuffled her feet in an agony to be gone. Surely they hadn’t come all this way to go back empty-handed? Whatever would Angel say if Monsieur Frou wouldn’t let the shoes go and they couldn’t have the shoot? He was appearing more and more agitated now, looking about him as if he’d lost something. At last his eyes fell upon Ellie, over by the trimmings. His face brightened.
“Take off your boots,” ordered Monsieur Frou.
Ellie stared at him. “What? Me? Now?”
“Of course now,” he replied testily. “How do I see them if not now? Do you want to be here all day?”
Ellie certainly didn’t want that. “All right.” She unzipped her boots and took them off.
“And the socks.”
Under her boots she was wearing black socks, which matched her black leggings. Hastily she pulled them off and stood on the plain wooden floor in her bare feet.
“Hm.” Monsieur Frou walked around Ellie as if she was a piece of furniture in a shop. “Give me,” he said, holding out one hand to her. He obviously wanted Ellie to lift one of her feet up so he could see it more clearly. Ellie lifted her right foot up, and wobbled. Bohemia caught Ellie’s arm and deftly drew a stool towards her so she could sit down. The designer took Ellie’s foot in his warm, calloused hand and looked at it. “The Pirate. A five,” he commanded, and Bohemia hurried away, to return a few seconds later with a pair of the most amazing shoes Ellie had seen in her entire life.
Bohemia kneeled on the floor and took Ellie’s foot from Jacob Frou. Ellie almost felt as if they had forgotten that it belonged to her. Gently, reverently, as if the shoe was a priceless ornament, Bohemia slipped the right one onto Ellie’s foot.
The soft leather of the shoe held Ellie’s foot in a gentle caress. It looked a little like a pirate’s swashbuckling boot, but instead of ending halfway up her calf, or at her knee, it hardly covered her ankle. It was decorated with braids and beads, and fastened with something that looked like an old and extremely valuable gold coin. Ellie couldn’t imagine how the designer had done it, but he’d created the impression of a pirate’s boot, while making it as light and delicate as a summer sandal. Ellie loved it. She wanted to demand the other shoe, so she could walk up and down in the pair. The shoe made her want to dance an elegant dance, though she had no idea how such a dance might go. The shoe made her feel a million dollars.
Jacob Frou looked at Joe. He pointed at Ellie’s foot, fantastically enrobed in the Pirate, and then at the other, empty shoe in his hand. He was right. The shoe came alive when it was worn. Empty, it didn’t have anything like the same impact.
“You see? My shoes must be always photographed on feet. I will come and speak to your Art Director, and if she will not agree there will be no shoot. Not one pair, not one shoe, away from a foot. You have models coming, yes? I know you do because we had their sizes emailed to us. So use them properly! No shots of girls holding shoes in their hands. I know what these Art Directors can be like.”
He turned away from Ellie. Bohemia handed Ellie her socks with a friendly smile. “Lucky you! My feet are too big for these shoes, but I’d love to be able to wear them.”
“Oh. Poor you,” said Ellie with sympathy. Even though she was now pulling her boot back on, her foot could recall the gentle embrace of the wonderful shoe. Bohemia was right. She had been lucky. It had felt a great honour to model for its maker.
Joe came over to Ellie. “There’s been a change of plan,” he said. “Since Monsieur Frou has decided to come to the shoot, his shoes are going to travel with him and Bohemia in his car. There will be room for you if you want to go with them, or you can come back with me. It’s up to you.”
Ellie thought. It had been very kind of Joe to bring her here, but her duty was to accompany the shoes. Even though she couldn’t imagine that anything would go wrong if they were with their maker, she still felt uncomfortable at abandoning them. “I think,” she said, “I ought to travel with the shoes…if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” said Joe. “I had to come to pick up my lens anyway, and you’re right to take your job seriously. Francesca should be proud of you. I’ll see you later.”
Ellie looked at her watch. Time was ticking on. She knew that the boys from Zone One were expected at the office at midday, so that Angel could take them out for a quick lunch before the shoot. Bohemia was busy packing the Pirates back into their box. Ellie watched admiringly. She was sure she’d never manage to pack anything as neatly as Bohemia did those shoes. The designer’s assistant used lots of colourful tissue, and was careful to make sure the entire surface of each shoe was well wrapped before it went into the box, which was lined with another vibrant layer of tissue. Once the shoes were in their box, tissue was folded over the top and the lid put on.
It seemed to Ellie that they must be ready to leave, but Monsieur Frou didn’t seem in any hurry. He was sitting at his workbench, staring into space.
“What’s he doing?” whispered Ellie, afraid of disturbing him. “He looks as if he’s in a trance.”
Bohemia smiled. “He is. Well, a sort of trance I suppose. He does this whenever he’s thinking of a new shoe. If it goes well he’ll begin sketching soon.”
Ellie was appalled. She wanted to get back in plenty of time to meet Zone One before they went out to lunch with the Editor in Chief. What if she missed saying hello to Al? She wouldn’t be able to bear it, and Piano would never stop gloating! �
��But we have to get back to the Heart office!” she said. “We don’t have time for him to start new designs now.”
Bohemia put her fingers to her lips. “There’s plenty of time before the shoot,” she said quietly. “Don’t fuss. Monsieur Jacob is an artist. When he’s in the mood he has to work, and if he gets disturbed it takes longer. Come on. Let’s go into the back room and leave him in peace.”
Ellie followed Bohemia, feeling that she’d stumbled out of a dream into a nightmare. Didn’t artists have any common sense? How could Jacob Frou even think of designing a new shoe now? But she knew that Bohemia was right. There was plenty of time…for them, but not for Ellie. Now that this had happened she wished she’d accepted Joe’s offer to drive her to the office himself. She’d be almost back by now if she had. Instead, she was stuck here, waiting for Jacob Frou to finish designing. It was so unfair.
On the other hand, Ellie realized she could be wasting her father’s advice to experience everything life has to offer. If she were Francesca, she knew she’d be thrilled to be here while the master was at work. She ought to be thrilled, and at any other time she knew she would be, but at the moment all Ellie could think about was Al, and his floppy blond hair…and Piano, glorying in having the boys all to herself.
“Couldn’t we take the shoes now, and leave Monsieur Frou to spend the rest of the day designing?” she said hopefully to Bohemia.
Bohemia looked scandalized. “I daren’t do that,” she said. “He’s said he wants to be at the shoot, and to have a discussion with the Art Director. He’d get in a terrible temper if we left without him. Believe me, I know him better than anyone. We’re best to sit it out here. I have some carrot juice if you’d like it, or a selection of herbal teas.”
“No thanks,” said Ellie, trying not to shudder. Carrot juice? Ugh! “It’s very kind of you, but I just want to get those shoes back to the office.”
“I understand,” said Bohemia with sympathy in her voice. “But we really do have plenty of time. Monsieur Frou isn’t going to let his shoes miss the shoot. He’s far too sensible to do that.”
Ellie watched as Bohemia calmly poured herself a glass of carrot juice and sipped it. Ellie looked at her watch again. Ten minutes had gone by. How long did it take to design a shoe?
After another fifteen minutes Ellie felt as if she was going to explode. She was very tempted to say that she was going to get a bus back, but Francesca had entrusted her with the job of bringing the shoes to the office. What if Monsieur Frou changed his mind about going to the shoot? What if he decided to work right through this morning, and on until teatime? What then? Would Bohemia be able to take the shoes, or would she have to stay with her employer? There was nothing for it. Ellie was trapped. She simply had to stay here. She had been sent to collect the shoes, and whatever happened, that was still her job.
Of course, if Ellie didn’t get back until after midday, Zone One would already have arrived and gone out to lunch with Angel. There might possibly be a chance to meet them after the shoot, but equally there might not. Francesca had told her that the boys might need to rush off somewhere afterwards. Besides, they might well leave from the studio where the fashion shoots were done, without returning to the editorial office. Ellie started to chew her nails in agitation. She hadn’t done that for ages, but she hadn’t felt this stressed for ages either. How could she possibly bear to miss Al?
A few minutes later, the sound of classical music came from the workroom. Bohemia put down her half drunk glass of juice and got to her feet. “Good news. He’s calm, and ready to move on. If it had gone badly he’d have put on some heavy metal.” She poured a small glass of juice and gave it to Ellie. “There you are. Would you like to take it to him? When he sees you he’ll remember straight away about the shoot.”
Ellie took the glass, feeling hopeful.
Jacob Frou was still sitting at his workbench, but now he was hunched over, adding to some sketches on a large sheet of paper. Ellie drew close, and held out the glass of juice. For a few moments she thought he hadn’t seen her, then he turned his head and looked up. “Aha! My young model. I think it is time we go to meet your Art Director, yes?”
Ellie smiled at him as she felt her spirits lift. Thank goodness! “Yes,” she said gratefully. “It is!”
“You are anxious to go. So…Bohemia?”
“Here, Monsieur Jacob.”
“Are all the shoes ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then we will go. Hurry! I must make sure the shoot is done to my satisfaction as well as being right for the magazine.” He picked up a silver-topped walking stick that was resting against his bench and tapped it authoritatively on the floor.
Bohemia grabbed a handful of large bags full of shoeboxes, and disappeared down the stairs. Ellie and Monsieur Frou followed her out onto the street. Bohemia hurried round the corner, but Monsieur Frou stayed where he was on the pavement.
“Shouldn’t we follow?” said Ellie, thinking that he was dithering. She felt rather desperate at the prospect of having to shepherd the old man. But to her relief, Bohemia soon reappeared, behind the wheel of a huge, black limo. Ellie scrambled in and willed Monsieur Frou to hurry. It seemed to take him ages, but really it was only a few seconds before he was in, and Bohemia was closing the door.
The door closed with a satisfyingly expensive sounding clunk, and Ellie slid back in the soft leather seat. It was going to be all right. She would deliver the shoes as she had promised, Francesca would be pleased, she would get to meet Zone One, and say hello to Al. Hurray!
She breathed a sigh of relief, and looked out of the window. She’d never been in a limo before. It was a bit different from the bus, which was the way she usually travelled. It made her feel like royalty, or a mega-famous celebrity. She had to resist an impulse to wave at the passers-by. She fought down the laugh that was rising in her throat. Even if she had been a celebrity, waving would have been a waste of time because the windows were tinted so no one could see in! Instead she relaxed into the comfy seat and decided that this was one experience she could simply enjoy. Life could be tricky, and full of surprises, but here she was, bowling along in a huge limo, in the company of a designer whose shoes were going to feature in her favourite magazine. And she’d even tried one of his shoes on, especially for him. Honestly, all things considered, and with the excitement of meeting Al still to come, life couldn’t get a lot better than this.
Ellie took the designer up to the Heart offices while Bohemia parked the car. As the old man gallantly held the door open for Ellie, Piano looked up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline with surprise. “What have you done to Joe?” she asked.
Ellie almost burst out laughing, but managed to turn most of it into a cough. “This is Monsieur Jacob Frou,” she told Piano with as much dignity as she could muster. “He has come to see the Art Director about the shoot. And Joe,” she added, swallowing a giggle, “left on his own. I expect he’s around somewhere. My job was to stay with the shoes.”
“Well…fine,” muttered Piano. She shot the designer a wide smile. “Welcome to Heart magazine,” she said.
Jacob Frou hardly looked at Piano. Instead he spoke to Ellie. “You will make sure Bohemia is allowed up here?” he said. “Your security may not realize who she is.”
“I’m sure Piano will ring down to tell the desk that we’re expecting her,” said Ellie. “And I can go down to bring her up.” She looked enquiringly at Piano, who didn’t exactly look thrilled at having to do anything that Ellie had the nerve to suggest, but then nodded her agreement and picked up the phone. Ellie couldn’t help adding, “We left her parking the limo.” She didn’t feel the need to score points as a rule, but with Piano it was very difficult to resist.
Without waiting for a reaction from Piano, Ellie guided Jacob Frou to Angel’s office.
At the door, Ellie knocked, and when Angel answered she ushered Monsieur Frou in. “This is Monsieur Frou,” she began, but Angel stopped her.
&nb
sp; “I believe we have met,” she said, getting up from her huge desk and advancing to shake the designer’s hand. “Do take a seat. What a pleasure to have you here. Would you like a coffee?”
“Thank you, no,” he said, perching on one of the powder blue chairs and leaning heavily on his stick. “I have come to see the Art Director about the shoot. My shoes must only be photographed on feet, not perched on shelves, or held. My shoes must be worn. This is essential, or the whole shoot is cancelled.”
Ellie put the bags of shoes she was carrying down on the floor and left them to it. She knew that Piano wouldn’t be able to leave the reception desk to fetch Bohemia, so she would have to go herself. But to her surprise, when she went back into the main office, Francesca was on reception, and there was no sign of Piano. As she made her way over to Francesca however, Piano appeared with Bohemia in tow. She handed Bohemia over to Ellie, and flounced back to the reception desk, grumbling under her breath.
When Ellie returned to the Editor’s office with Bohemia, Angel seemed to be charming the old man very successfully. To Ellie’s delight, she agreed straight away when he suggested that Ellie should help unpack a few of the boxes so that Angel could take a look.
In the past, Ellie had heard Piano being raged at by Angel for not being tidy in her office, and she didn’t want to give the Editor an excuse to tell her off, so she folded the bags the boxes had been in very carefully, even though she knew that Angel probably wouldn’t say anything while Jacob Frou and Bohemia were there.
Ellie lifted the lid off the first box. In a froth of indigo tissue lay an explosion of light. Ellie lifted the shoe out in amazement. According to the label it was called the Dorothy. Putting on this shoe would be like plunging your foot into a basket of diamonds. Every centimetre was covered in crystals, including the small heel. There were two more boxes of shoes in the same style – Ellie loved the pair in sapphire blue. She could easily imagine going to a ball in shoes like those and wowing all her friends. When she unpacked the third shoe in the Dorothy style she could see why it had been so named. This one, in ruby red crystals, reminded her immediately of the red shoes in the film The Wizard of Oz. It looked entirely possible that they would be capable of granting any wish imaginable.
Boys, Blues and Shoes Page 3