by Carmen Reid
‘Heeeeee-lp!’ she squawked. But no one paid her any attention because they were all crowded round Taylor.
He sat up and put a hand to his cheek again.
‘Can you move your ankles, man?’ Gawain asked.
‘You better hope so,’ Taylor snarled, ‘or I am going to make trouble.’
Everyone backed away from him a little.
He got up carefully, circling his ankles and wrists, feeling himself over for damage. And as he looked around the room at each of them in turn, Annie saw that it wasn’t in fact Taylor. Ah.
This man was older and he looked angry and threatening. His accusing eyes fell on Annie, who was dangling helplessly on the machine, but thankfully Gawain stepped in just in time, full of charm.
‘This is my fault,’ he told the man. ‘Fortunately you seem to be OK. But I think I should offer you a month’s free membership and a personal training session to make up for this accident.’
The man grunted his agreement. Then he dusted himself down and got back onto the treadmill, leaving Gawain to rescue Annie from the machine.
‘Now don’t worry,’ Gawain assured her, when their session was finally over, ‘I’m going to give you your specially designed programme for month one. Then you log on to my website, pay your membership fee and get your second programme.’
‘But it won’t be the same,’ Annie protested. ‘I’m not sure I can do this without you, Gawain.’
What had Train with Gawain done to her? Annie wondered. She, the gym-hater, the gym-aphobic, was already trying to work out how she could fit in a session tomorrow. He’d made her believe that even she could shape up.
‘You can also download this week’s “Playin’ with Gawain” gym music, with my special words of encouragement.’
‘Really? You’re speaking on it?’
‘I’m speaking just to you, girl, listen to me and move! The next time you come to New York, we’ll meet again and I am gonna marvel at how wonderful you look and how amazing you feel.’
Now she understood why Connor had crossed the Atlantic just for this man.
‘You should be on TV,’ Annie told him, as she headed to the lift. And at that she pulled up sharp and spun back to face him.
Would Gawain want to be on TV? Could he come over to Britain and be on TV … with her? Wouldn’t it make for a great show? She needed to phone Tamsin and pitch the idea!
‘I’d love to be on TV, hasn’t happened yet though,’ Gawain laughed. ‘See you soon, Annie,’ he said, clasping her hand, looking deeply and sincerely into her eyes. Then he was gone and she was in the elevator.
As she left the building, Annie understood why there was an electronic lock on the door. It was for Gawain’s protection from his adoring fans.
Wandering forlornly down the street, Annie saw a café. Inside she ordered a freshly squeezed carrot and apple juice, not because she was now a health freak but because even the thought of coffee and a muffin, after the punishment she’d just given her body, was making her nauseous.
At the table, waiting for her juice, she decided to phone Dinah. Her sister was a gym bunny, a fitness fanatic, she would want to hear every last detail of Annie’s pain with Gawain, trademark.
She dialled her own home number first, wondering if Dinah and the babies would be there. It only took a couple of rings before Annie heard her sister’s voice on the other end of the line.
‘Helloooo, it’s me! Guess where I’ve just been?’
‘Tiffany’s?’
‘No.’
‘Ermm … Macy’s?
‘No.’
‘I don’t know, Annie. I give up. I don’t know the names of all the fancy shops out there. I’ve never even been once.’
‘Dinah, babes, it’s not even 7a.m. over here. I’m not shopping, I’m recovering from my session at the gym with Connor’s trainer Gawain.’
‘You are not! You have not! Really?’
‘Really!’
‘Annie, I am so impressed. This is really, really good news.’
See, that was Dinah; totally sweet, wishing her well, wanting her to succeed on the treadmill.
‘It was amazing, I will tell you everything, but first you have to tell me about home. How is everyone? How are my babies? And Owen? Has he sold off the entire contents of the house down the market yet? And Ed? All I’ve had from Ed in two days is texts!’
‘Everyone’s fine. Well, the children, yes, don’t worry about any one of them for a second. Min’s had a tiny little cold, but she’s already perking up.’
‘Oh, my little love.’
‘But Annie … something is up with Ed. I was going to phone you as soon as I thought you’d be up. Something isn’t right. He’s so quiet. He seems worried. It started the day before yesterday and … he left at 8.15 this morning, but he didn’t take his briefcase. I honestly don’t know if he’s gone to school or not. To be honest, I’m quite worried.’
Annie didn’t like the sound of this at all; now she wished she had coffee. Very strong, black coffee. Not this wimpy do-gooder drink in front of her.
They said their goodbyes and Annie quickly dialled Ed’s mobile number. ‘Could I have an espresso over here?’ she called over to the waitress as she waited for him to answer.
‘Ed!’ She felt a rush of relief as she heard him pick up, ‘Ed, you’re there. Thank goodness! We’re all so worried about you. Are you OK?’
‘Ye-es … I think I’m OK,’ he replied. But she knew him so well that she immediately knew he wasn’t telling the truth.
‘Of course you’re not OK. This is me, Ed. Please, don’t think you need to tell me anything that isn’t true. I love you. You’re my best guy, babes. What is it? I’m panicking over here. Take a breath and just tell me.’
Ed gave a long, deep sigh.
‘It’s OK. We can handle it,’ Annie assured him.
‘I’ve been suspended from school, Annie. There’s porn all over the school’s internal computer system and somehow … I have no idea, Annie, I really have no idea at all … but it’s all been linked to me.’
Annie clutched at the table in front of her. Not for the first time that morning, she thought she was going to faint.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Business Elena:
Navy jersey dress (Perfect Dress free sample)
Gold earrings (gift from Svetlana)
Gold ballet pumps (Old Navy stores)
Total est. cost: $15
‘Hello, Mrs Westhoven’
Annie listened as computer keys tapped frantically in the background.
‘Ma’am … I could offer you one flight tomorrow afternoon, at a re-booking fee of $350. But I can’t transfer both passengers.’
Annie paused to consider, taking a sip of her espresso. She and Lana were due to fly home in five days’ time. She was of course going to spend the $350 to come home early, but did she need to pay for Lana to cut her trip short too? Wouldn’t she be OK on her own for a while? And what about Perfect Dress? Annie had solved some of the problems she’d flown over to handle, but there weren’t nearly enough orders in place for her to go home with a clear conscience.
But Ed … Ed was on suspension while terrible allegations were being investigated. He needed her to be at home with him. He’d told her not to leave early and cut short her New York adventure, but it wasn’t just about what he needed. She needed to be with him too.
‘Yes, I’ll take the flight tomorrow,’ Annie said, making up her mind, and taking out her credit card.
As she hurried down the street towards the subway entrance, Annie glanced at the three newspaper vending machines chained to the railings. Nothing unusual about that, this was how newspapers were sold all over New York.
But on the front page of one paper was a paparazzo shot of the actor Josh Hartnett. Nothing unusual about that either. He lived in New York and seemed to pop up all over every newspaper and magazine.
But Josh Hartnett was holding the hand of the Vanity Fair writer Emily
Wilmington. And …
Annie bent low to make sure she had seen this right … Emily Wilmington was wearing, along with a blue felt trilby and brown boots, the blue jersey Perfect Dress which Annie and Elena had sent her.
Annie shrieked. She couldn’t help herself. Fumbling in her purse, she found quarters and jammed them into the slot. Snatching up her newspaper, she scanned the headline over the photo: ‘Who’s that girl with Josh?’ Underneath, the photo caption read: ‘Josh Hartnett takes a walk in the park with Emily Wilmington. She’s that girl, but more importantly, where do we buy that dress?’
Annie shrieked again, to the surprise of the passers-by scurrying to get to the subway entrance. She put all the quarters she could find into the vending machine and bought five more newspapers.
Forgetting for a second the horrible news from home, Annie couldn’t help feeling an enormous burst of triumph. This was the best thing that could have happened to Perfect Dress.
‘LANA!!’ she shouted excitedly into her phone, ‘we’ve had the most amazing break! Get out into the street, tell Elena, and buy a copy of the New York Post. Emily from Vanity Fair’s on the cover in her Perfect Dress! Seriously! I’m on my way back, we have to use this in every way we can.’
Annie knew she would have to tell Lana about Ed and about her flight home tomorrow, but that could wait for a little while. Just until they’d done as much as they could to make this good news really work for them.
When Annie arrived back at the apartment, both Lana and Elena were already on the case.
Elena, phone glued to her ear, was talking to the New York Post feature desk: ‘Ya, Emily Wilmington, on the cover of your paper today. She is wearing the dress by my company, Perfect Dress …’
Lana was busy compiling the press release about to be emailed to as many newspapers, feature pages and fashion editors as she could think of. She was also pasting the photo, properly captioned with names and the Perfect Dress label, onto as many fashion websites as she could think of.
It wasn’t even 8a.m. yet and so much had happened!
Annie made coffee, sat down at the tiny table and thought hard. How else? How else could she use her last day in New York to make this incredible stroke of luck work even harder for them?
Obviously, she would phone every customer who’d ever placed a dress order, ever thought about placing a dress order, or even cancelled a dress order.
She had another idea too, born of her days at The Store. Just as soon as the shops were open, all three of them would make as many calls as possible in as many different voices as possible. They would all pretend to be customers looking for that dress. In particular, they would make a point of phoning Bloomingdale’s … a lot.
For the next few hours, the small apartment sounded more like a call centre than a fashion headquarters.
‘Hi, I’m looking for the label Perfect Dress? Yes, I saw a dress in the New York Post this morning. Do you stock the label? Do you think you will? Is there any way I could make a reservation?’
‘Five thousand and fourteen hits on the Perfect Dress website just this morning,’ Elena reported, ‘we’ve posted up that the dresses will be here in a week and we’ve allowed people to pre-order.’
‘Have you spoken to Brad at the factory? Can he do us another run if we need him to?’
Elena nodded, then added with a little smile, ‘Maybe we go to a warehouse and buy the fabric this time?’
‘Yes,’ Annie agreed, ‘that might be easier.’
Elena’s phone began to ring. ‘Good afternoon, this is Elena Wisneski of Perfect Dress.’
Elena coloured up slightly when she heard the reply. Annie looked away, but couldn’t help listening in keenly.
‘Hello Mrs Westhoven, how are you?’
For a stricken moment, Annie wondered if all the calls they’d made to Bloomingdale’s this afternoon had been traced to the flat and to their mobiles. Maybe the terrifying Mrs Westhoven had found out just what they were up to.
‘Yes, I’m very well too, thank you,’ Elena said, sounding admirably calm and civil. ‘Yes … OK … no problem …’
Now Annie was desperate to know what this was about.
‘All ninety dresses. Yes …’ Elena looked over at Annie and gave her a huge grin. ‘Reinstate the order, and possibly order more. Yes, that is no problem. But we would have to take a deposit from you … because of the previous cancellation.’
Annie almost gasped at Elena’s nerve.
‘OK, yes. If you email me a confirmation, I’ll start to process your order right away. Delivery of the dresses? You’re looking at one week from now, but we’ll try our best to bring that forward. Yes, we can provide full publicity material. We’re going to buy usage of the Josh Hartnett and Emily Wilmington photo.’
When Elena clicked off the call, she gave a little shriek of glee, sprang up and began a victory dance around the room.
Lana and Annie had to join in.
‘This is so exciting!’ Lana said. ‘I can’t wait, I can’t wait to see all our dresses arriving and then hanging up in the shops!’
Annie realized she would now have to break the news about Ed and tell Lana and Elena that she wouldn’t be here when the dresses arrived.
She would be back in London.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The handsome Asian home-comer:
White T-shirt (Gap)
Light blue cashmere sweater (J. Crew)
Beige chinos (same)
White sneakers (Converse)
Total est. cost: $390
Too busy hugging and being hugged …
Annie watched the luggage going round on the carousel through eyes puffed and bleary from the flight. Flying to New York with Lana had been so exciting that the cramped hours had passed quickly. But flying home, Annie had fretted and worried about Ed and his suspension all night long, only managing short snatches of sleep.
That bag was hers. She hurried over to the carousel and heaved off the large holdall. New York shopping had resulted in two extra holdalls; Lana was going to bring one and Annie was in charge of this one.
When Ed realized she really was going to come home early just for him and there was nothing he could do to persuade her otherwise, he’d offered to pick her up at the airport but she’d told him no, she would be fine. She’d take the train to Paddington and a cab from there.
Now, wheeling along her trolley loaded with two heavy bags, the beautiful green Mulberry bag over her shoulder, Annie wasn’t so sure about the train idea. Carrying both bags at the same time was torture – almost as much torture as training with Gawain.
As she wheeled her trolley through the exit, she was caught up for a little moment in the glamour and emotion of the arrivals hall. A chauffeur in a shiny peaked cap was holding up a sign for ‘Mr Bendell’, and a large Asian family, including Gran, Grandad, plus toddlers and babies, were all falling over a handsome young man … maybe home for a holiday from his exciting US job.
Annie’s eyes were drawn to the other cardboard signs bearing titles or company names. There was even one that read, ‘My lovely wife’. Oh, how sweet was that?
Then with a gasp of surprise, she realized it was being held up by Ed.
‘What are you doing here?’ she screeched, hurrying her trolley in his direction, her eyes suddenly prickly with tears.
‘Do you always have to greet me like that?’ he asked jokily.
But then they were caught up in a hug. A great big, who cares if anyone is looking or what anyone might be thinking hug. Their arms were tightly around each other, holding on for dear life, the hug as supporting as it was supportive.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Annie said into his shoulder.
He patted her soothingly on the back, the way he patted the babies. ‘It’s not been good,’ he said.
She pulled away from his shoulder so she could look at his face. ‘It’s going to be OK,’ she told him, ‘it really is going to be OK. I’m back. I’m going to look after you and we’
ll sort this all out.’
He pulled her in and kissed her on the top of her head.
He seemed so quiet, so tense and so needy that she felt a surge of worry. ‘It is going to be all right, Ed? There’s nothing …’ she paused, suddenly unsure what to say. It had never for one moment occurred to her to think anything but the best of Ed. ‘There’s nothing we need to talk about first?’ she asked, feeling a tight knot in her throat.
‘No, no. Of course not,’ he replied, shaking his head, ‘but the stuff is on my school computer. This is some sort of set-up. I just don’t know who would do this to me – or how.’
His eyes darted away from her face and for a fleeting second she wondered if she should read anything into that. But no, she brushed it away. If he’d told her there was nothing, then she had no reason to doubt him.
‘Do you want to get a coffee?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m desperate to get home and see everyone. They will all be there, won’t they?’
‘Dinah and babies, yes, unless they’ve gone off to the toddler group. Owen is obviously at … school.’ The word came out with difficulty.
‘Ed, you’ll be back there ASAP,’ she soothed, ‘and they’ll have to take out a billboard to make an apology big enough for my liking.’
Once they were in the car and heading towards north London, Annie began trying to piece together just what was going on with Ed and St Vincent’s.
‘Where is this investigation at, though? Right now?’ she wanted to know. ‘What are they doing for you today?’
Hands on the steering wheel, Ed shrugged. ‘It’s being investigated, that’s all I know. They’ll contact me when they have more information.’
‘But what are they doing? Who’s doing the investigating? And are they on the case today, or is it just sitting in the headmaster’s in-tray until he decides he can find some time to deal with it?’
Ed shrugged again.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner. I’d have been over here. I’d have been helping you to sort this out.’
‘I didn’t want you to come back for this,’ Ed said, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel. ‘I just want this to be over, and as soon as possible. I want them to realize it’s all a mistake and for everything to go back to how it was.’