“Like a coat of many colours,” she whispered to herself, and laughed at her own embarrassment.
Here were the answers to questions she had been asking herself. She’d seen the colours, known their potential, but there had been something missing, they had been like bodies, perfectly made, but Poppy had brought them to life.
It was just like their time at college, the way they complemented each other, and created between them something greater and truer than they might have done on their own, and she knew immediately that it was absolutely essential that Poppy join her in her work.
8
As winter gave way to the light and life of spring, SLaM joined in the change of seasons by transforming itself into a new company and a new brand: SUMMER. The legal transformation was relatively easy but the brand shift would require a lot more work.
These were the challenges occupying Alex’s mind as she arrived for work one morning in early March. As usual, she was the first one in, and as she settled at her desk the morning post arrived, dropping into the postbox outside the office door.
Alex still loved getting post, and so she went to see what had arrived. When she opened the postbox she saw, amongst the other letters, a pastel blue envelope with a handwritten address. Its warm colour contrasted sharply with the brown anonymity of the other items around it.
The envelope was marked for Conner’s attention, the address written in rounded, precise, characters, Alex judged by a woman’s hand.
She brought the letters in and turned her attention back to the business of the day. Daisy was going to report back on the Paris trip, and had promised “an adventure in colour, a new vision for SUMMER”. It had, Alex knew, inspired Conner to buy Daisy a pencil with a multi-coloured lead centre and an orange tassel at the end; she had responded by teasing him with loaded comments about Paris being the city of love. Alex had picked up that Conner might have made himself a new friend while he was away, and she made a mental note to stay alert for any more information about the girl in question. Intriguingly, it seemed to be one of Daisy’s old college friends, but she knew no more than that.
Alex had called them all in today for Daisy’s presentation, including Conner and Lewis. Conner had been in the office for a few minutes when she handed him the blue letter, and he grunted some acknowledgement. He was hunched on the corner of Daisy’s desk, picking over some receipts from the trip, wondering what he could claim as legitimate expenses. He took the envelope from Alex, sniffed it, and then ripped it open. Inside, he found a handwritten request from one of his fans, apparently she wanted him to do a solo gig at her birthday party, and she was going to pay him a very decent fee for it.
“Daisy, look at this.” He passed her the letter and she scanned through it.
“What do you think?” he said.
“Have you seen the fee they’re offering you?” she replied and passed the note back to him.
“Yes,” he said, “do you think I should do it?”
Daisy looked at him as if the answer was obvious. Conner was feeling fairly poor at the moment and as he considered it, the prospect of a solo gig, with him taking the fee, was very enticing.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
“Of course you should do it,” said Daisy airily. “Unless it’s a con of some kind, and all they give you is a beer and a slice of birthday cake.”
“Cynic!” he replied, and nudged his receipts towards her. “So how many of these can we claim for do you think?”
“Well,” said Daisy, “I don’t think you can claim every penny when you spent half of your time entertaining ladies.” She winked at him.
“I had to eat something while I was there,” said Conner, “and I think she enjoyed my company.”
“Of course she did,” said Daisy. “A man of your sophistication and wit, what lady wouldn’t?”
“Shut up!” he said, laughing. “So what about these receipts?”
“Later, Conner,” she said, “I’m up for my presentation in a few minutes,” she waved a hand full of design drawings at him, “so stop being so loved up, and give me a hand to get set up.”
She collected her papers and laptop and juggled the whole lot into the boardroom.
“I’m coming.” He picked up the letter and read it again, but it was only the fee they were offering him that really had his attention. He lingered over the figure, and then looked at the rest of the invitation, there was only an email address to respond to.
“Conner,” Daisy’s shout grabbed his attention, “get in here and help me with this projector, will you?”
“Yes, sure.” He started humming to himself as he trotted into the boardroom.
He switched on the projector and connected Daisy’s laptop. A giant image of Paris appeared on the screen.
“Perfect,” said Daisy, opening her presentation. “So how much are they offering you for this gig?”
“Five hundred,” said Conner.
“Five hundred pounds?” said Daisy. “For a day’s work?”
“That’s what they say,” said Conner.
“Well,” said Daisy, “you’ve got every reason to be cheerful, you might need that to finance your social life.”
“Just when I need some cash, eh?” he said, winking at her, but she didn’t hear him, instead she was frowning at the computer screen.
“You okay?” he said.
“Yes, of course,” she said.
“I was just saying,” said Conner, “it will be handy to get some cash just at the moment.”
“What?” said Daisy. “Oh yes, it will be.”
“You sure you’re okay?” said Conner. “Is it this presentation?”
She looked up, her face betraying a lack of sleep. She moved past him and pushed the door closed so that they were alone.
“I’m sorry,” she said, fishing a packet of cigarettes from her pocket, “it’s not even just this presentation; it’s all of you. I mean, I love you guys, but you’re all so Christian, and I feel different, separate.”
Conner opened his mouth to speak but she continued:
“I really do appreciate you guys, but this is so intense.” She pulled a cigarette out of the packet. “I mean, do you think they even have a smoker’s room in heaven?” she said, taking a lighter from her other pocket.
“Daisy,” said Conner, staring at the cigarette, now between her lips.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’m not going to light it in here.”
“I don’t know if there’s a smoker’s room in heaven,” said Conner, “but if they don’t take sinners, we’ll all be camped outside with you.”
“I’m going to ask them to take on Poppy for a while,” said Daisy. “I need her, as a consultant.”
“The company hasn’t got any money,” said Conner. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said.
He looked at her. “Whatever!” he said, and laughed. “Ask for it, they can only say no.”
She smiled and shook her head slightly. “I’ll be outside.” She waved her cigarette.
* * *
The lights went down and Daisy stepped forward. She looked at the faces in front of her: Alex, Caleb, Aiden, Conner and Lewis, and then cleared her throat.
“So,” she said, “first I want to thank you for letting me go to Paris, and letting me take my assistant with me.” She nodded at Conner who waved back at her.
“So,” she continued, “here’s what I discovered at Première Vision, and what we made of those discoveries.”
They all stared as the colours appeared before their eyes. Designs poured out onto the screen, image after image, presented in detail, ready for mockup and production. Jackets and shirts, tunics and culottes, all individual, but all sharing a theme, a mood that spoke of the light and warmth of Summer.
“These designs are the basic ideas,” said Daisy, “and I have material samples for some of them, they just need a bit more work to be ready for prototypes and then production.”
&n
bsp; She carried on through the presentation, encouraged by the attention she got from them all, and the grunts of wonder and approval from Caleb.
“And that’s it,” said Daisy at the end. “But you need to know that these drawings are the work of two people.” She paused and looked at them all. “One already works for SUMMER, that’s me, and the other we should employ as soon as possible.”
She watched Aiden to see if he would frown, or even twitch, but he kept perfectly still.
“I’ve prepared these designs,” continued Daisy, “in collaboration with an old student friend of mine, Poppy Martinez, and I want to show you why I think it is so important that she join us. Look at this design.”
On the screen they could see a simple sketch of a jacket, something they hadn’t seen yet. There was no colour in the image, and only a hint of detail at the collar and sleeves. One or two notes had been added to the design, but these were illegible.
“This is what I started with, and it’s what I showed Poppy when we were at Première Vision. A few days later she sent me this.”
Another design appeared on the screen. Here was the same garment, but now turned into a tabard, sleeveless, daring in bright yellow with flashes of emerald green at the hem, and notes about the particular materials used as well as suggestions for slightly different hues of colour, all written in a neat hand around the edge of the design.
“This is all I need to mock up the design and create something for us,” said Daisy.
* * *
Alex felt a tremendous sense of excitement as soon as she saw some of the designs, something she judged to be beyond her own human reaction. She decided then that Daisy and Poppy must work together, but she said nothing.
It would cost money, and that was what they didn’t have much of right now. It was so reckless to think of taking on someone else, so naïve, and yet it seemed so right. She wondered what Aiden would make of this, and she hoped Caleb would sense the rightness of it too.
“These are wonderful,” she said. “Tell us more about your friend Poppy.”
“She is a really talented designer,” burst out Conner, and the assembled heads turned back to him. “She is wonderful, she really is!”
“You’re familiar with her work?” asked Caleb.
“Well,” said Conner,, “I mean, based on what I’ve seen I think Daisy and Poppy can work together are a great team. They were at college together.”
“The flower girls.” Caleb chuckled. “It’s lovely; and if Daisy and Lewis will bear with me, I would dare to say that what we are seeing here is divine inspiration. I admit I don’t know much about fashion, but aren’t these lovely? This is God at work unless I am much mistaken.”
“Sure is,” said Daisy before she could think about what she was saying.
“We need to talk to Poppy and see if we can come to an arrangement,” said Alex. “What’s she doing at the moment?”
“She has a contract with a Fair-Trade clothing business, but that’s only three days a week.”
“Might I say something at this point?”
All eyes in the room turned to Aiden, who had been quiet so far.
“When we first saw Daisy’s designs,” he said, “and she shared her ideas with us, I thought we should encourage her, indeed I pushed for us to let her go to Première Vision, as you all know. It may be that she is still with SUMMER because I pushed for her to be allowed to go to Première Vision this year.”
The room was silent.
“However,” he continued, “what I didn’t expect was that, as a result of it all, we would consider hiring another employee, and spending more money to do so. You are all talking about this without giving it any serious thought.”
Everyone was silent. The projector fan hummed, intrusive and breathy, churning the air.
“It worries me,” continued Aiden, “that some of you, even you, Caleb, would pronounce on whether this is God’s will or not, without giving any thought to the financial implications.”
“My dear fellow,” said Caleb gently, “I believe that God is in this. Even if our accounts were in a poorer state than they are now, I would still believe that God was in this. But that does not mean we should rush into this blindly; we need to be wise as well.”
“Well I am glad to hear you say that,” said Aiden. “I want you all to be aware of the facts. Until we get some proper income from Conner’s forthcoming tour, the cupboard is pretty bare. We have enough money to keep us going for about four maybe five months at the moment. Like you, I think these designs are delightful, but if we take on Daisy’s friend, that four or five months just shortens again.”
Daisy stared at him and kept her mouth shut.
“These are wonderful designs, Daisy,” said Aiden, “and it’s a wonderful idea, but it’s my job to remind people of where we are as a business with our money. I don’t think we can take anyone else on right now.”
Alex watched them all talking, and their voices seemed to drift away from her. Inside her chest there was a heat building, her breathing was faster but she didn’t feel scared or jittery or nervous. She knew what this was.
“We must do this,” she said suddenly. “I know what you are saying, Aiden, and it is your job to say it, and you are right to say it, but we must do it. Don’t worry,” she added, “I have a feeling Conner will come good for us.”
They all stared at each other, and Daisy from her vantage point at the front could look at them all, seeing them weighing their faith in God against the risk.
“And we need to offer Poppy a contract,” said Alex quietly, “but we need to be honest with her about the state of the business. We can offer her three months work, two days a week, under Daisy’s direction.”
She looked at Aiden. “I will cover the costs myself,” she said.
“Okay,” said Aiden, raising his hands, “you’re the boss.”
The room was silent again.
“Well,” said Caleb, rather loudly, “I think that went very well. Thank you, Daisy, for your work on this, a great job. But I fear I have to go now, my other employment beckons. I will see you all soon.”
He got up, picked up his bag and coat, and, humming a totally unidentifiable tune, he left the room.
Lewis got up and followed him out. “I’ll be back later,” he said, glancing at Alex.
Daisy left next, followed by Aiden. Alex wanted to speak with him, but the boardroom wasn’t the place to do it. She sighed and headed back to her desk.
Alex was just sitting down again when the phone rang, she picked up and heard a voice that was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d heard it before.
“Can I speak to Alex, please?”
“Speaking,” said Alex.
“Alex! This is Bernice Templeton, we were at school together. Do you remember me? Bats Templeton, that’s what everyone called me then.”
Alex stared out into space as her brain sifted through all the old memories of school, the light that came through the tall windows in the assembly hall, the smell of books in the library, the tang of the chemicals from the science lab, and the people she’d known, the other girls who’d been there; and she remembered Bernice, larger than life, Bernice, a bit reckless, very sporty, always up for an adventure.
“Bernice! Wow, I haven’t talked to you since, well I don’t know. It’s great to hear from you! So, how are you?”
“Busy, as ever, you’ll not be surprised to hear. Still alive though, and that might be more of a surprise to you.”
Images came into Alex’s mind – Bernice, the missionary’s daughter, fearless as anything, always game for a laugh.
“So,” said Alex, “what are you up to these days? Still doing the fencing? What was it, foil? And do people still call you Bats?”
Bernice’s initials, B A T, had led to her picking up the affectionate nickname “Bats” at school.
“Oh God, no,” said Bernice, “I haven’t been called ‘Bats’ in ages, shame really. I’m a bit more s
ensible these days, and I’m not fencing anymore, I’m sorry to say.”
Bernice had been British Youth Champion and had carried on with the sport even when an accident had nearly blinded her; Alex could still remember the scar, like a teardrop beneath her left eye.
“I’ve settled down a bit these days,” continued Bernice, “just a bit of free climbing and amateur kick boxing, that sort of thing.”
“Well thank goodness some things don’t change. So how are your parents doing?”
“Oh, still out in the middle of nowhere, I haven’t spoken to them recently; I think they are okay.”
Alex remembered that Bernice didn’t see too much of her parents, away in the mission field as they were. With their absence, and Alex’s situation as an orphan, the two girls had occasionally found themselves together for weekends at the boarding school where Alex spent her sixth form years. Their friendship had grown over that time as they had spent time together talking about anything from boys to God to music.
Alex was distracted from the conversation as she looked out of the office window and saw Aiden sitting in his car. He did not seem to be getting ready to leave. She wanted to go and talk to him, but Bernice had her attention for now.
“Anyway,” continued Bernice, “I’ve tracked you down for a reason. Your social life is about to move up a gear.”
“Really?” said Alex, suppressing a smile.
“Oh yes; I am planning a do. A big do.” Alex remembered Bernice’s excitement at the prospect of any social event, especially parties, and especially parties with boys. “You remember Harriet?”
Alex wrinkled her brow trying to remember the name.
“Vaguely,” said Alex, “I think.”
“Well anyway,” continued Bernice now in full flow, “I’ve stayed in touch with her, and a couple of the other girls; you remember Samantha, don’t you, anyway, Samantha has a brother called Tim; and well you can guess the rest.”
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