After grabbing a lunchtime sandwich and coffee in Cafe Picasso, I decided whilst I was in the vicinity, to call on Vanessa. Rowley was probably playing rugger, anyway.
He was, and she was thrilled to see me. Now looking quite rotund, almost Buddha like in her advanced pregnant state. She giggled as I patted her bump. 'How's junior doing?'
'Becoming quite an active little sod, actually. Going to be a rugger player like his father I shouldn't wonder.'
I laughed. 'Even if it's a girl?'
'If it's a girl, then it'll be a gymnast! It gives me hell at night when I need to rest.'
'Crikey! And you've still a while to go yet. I didn't know they could be quite so active before they're born?'
'Neither did I, darling! All this week the little devil's been turning summersaults!'
I told her my good news first, about the money I was getting from Philip and she was genuinely delighted. Then I poured out all the latest trials Alex and I had been having.
'Well, actually, darling, I heard about all that from Alex last night. He rang, because he couldn't get you at the flat and thought you might possibly be here.'
'Oh hell! I completely forgot to tell Alex I was going to Joan and Sid's last evening. And I've been out all this morning too. Did he have any news?'
'Well, they've heard from Susannah's lawyers now and it would appear they are considering things carefully. There's no outright settlement yet but you've had the desired effect by putting the wind up Susannah because she is wavering. I bet she's worried sick how all her charity committees will react if too much mud is slung. It could get quite hairy for her.'
'Great! That's just what we wanted. Please God, let's hope Alex can sort things out fairly amicably now. Thanks.' I took the mug of coffee Vanessa was offering me. 'It could be a really nasty business otherwise, for us especially.'
Vanessa smiled. 'Y’know, I'm so glad that Alex and Susannah are finally divorcing. It’ll leave the arena perfectly clear for you now, darling.'
I gulped. It would, that was true. With all my thrilling news last night about setting up my own business I'd given little thought to Alex or what we might do eventually when he was divorced. Of course, once things were finally settled, Alex would be free to make me his wife. But did I want to be a wife on the re-bound? Did I want to be a wife at all? I was all set now to turn myself into a real career woman. I wasn't sure if there'd be time for marriage? And certainly having babies was totally out of the question. Motherhood didn't attract me one bit.
Vanessa jolted me from my thoughts. 'Any idea where you want to open your business then? Kings Road is the place of course at the moment. But to be honest, if I were you, I'd steer clear of it. It's become almost too busy. Anyway, you don't want to be another Chelsea name, surely?'
'My thoughts exactly.'
'Barbara Hulanicki's Biba outlet is doing awfully well in Kensington. Tell you what… Rowley's brother Andrew is an estate agent in Knightsbridge. I'll ask if he knows of any decent premises around there,' said Vanessa, hoisting herself up to stretch. 'Oh God, I get so cramped sitting in one position!'
The dreadful inconvenience of advanced pregnancy made me shudder.
'That would be marvellous,’ I said, grinning over my coffee mug. 'Will you tell him I'll definitely need to lease; and I want showroom premises with rooms behind and above. Kensington, Knightsbridge or anywhere thereabouts would be super.'
'OK, will do. Actually we're thinking of moving soon ourselves. Into the country preferably... after the baby is born,' said Vanessa. 'You know Charles and Jane? We recently visited them in Surrey?'
I nodded. I certainly remembered the idiot, Charles, all right. How could I forget? Vanessa chatted on. 'It was so much quieter, darling. Much better for the baby and Rowley can easily commute. Andrew's Surrey contacts in the business are looking out for us. Rowley reckons now's the time to buy and we’ve had enough of renting. Anyway, Papa's helping us financially, with a dowry. Wonderful Greek custom, eh! Also Rowley's parents are willing to chip in a bit, so we should be able to find a decent enough house I think. Surrey or Berkshire would be nice.'
She picked up The Field magazine and flitted quickly through. 'Rather fancy something like this,' she said casually, showing me a picture of a sizeable Georgian house in the Weybridge area, with a paddock and several acres of land. No sale price was given, but I imagined it would go for a tidy sum.
Again I was reminded of how miles apart Vanessa and I were with our expectations in life. Even in my dreams I was never likely to live in, or own a house like that. Although, I supposed, if I should marry Alex one day, who knows? But I quickly brushed that idea aside.
We talked about Christmas; only two weeks away, and I said I might possibly spend it with Mum and Philip in Wales.
'What about Alex? He likes to ski.'
I shrugged my shoulders. 'Well, he might like to come to Wales instead. Although you're right, he probably would prefer to go skiing. I don't know. But I feel I should go to Wales, with Mum having just got over her operation.'
'Well then, perhaps you could join him in Klosters after Christmas?'
But remembering that I don't ski, or rather that I hadn't learned to yet, that idea had now paled a little. 'The thing is, Vanessa, I'll have my business to start setting up in the New Year, so I honestly don't know if I'll be able to...'
She stared at me, a stunned expression on her face. Was it that obvious? Clearly my business plans were already taking priority over my affections for Alex.
CHAPTER 14
Throngs of young people were still evident as I walked back home along the Kings Road later that Saturday afternoon. Girls and boys sashayed in and out of boutiques and shops swinging carrier bags bearing names like Clobber, Countdown and Just Men, all bursting with the latest trendy clothes and accessories.
Christmas was on everyone's mind with shop windows displaying a distinctly festive spirit; all reminding me I had still to decide what to do about Christmas. I really did want be able to spend it with Mum and Philip. After Philip's generosity towards me I felt it was the least I could do. But would Alex understand?
Outside Bazaar I studied the window display featuring Mary Quant's latest venture into female underwear called Youth-lines, which was in stark black and white. In fact black and white was very much in everywhere, as were geometric lines and Op Art patterns. All this diversity inspired me hugely. It signified to me the dawning of a brave new age in fashion and I was now itching to make my own mark on the scene. For ages now I'd longed to branch out into bolder ways of expressing myself, to create fashions to blend in with this new era.
It seemed a revolutionary time for anyone under thirty. So much was happening, especially in London. But Liverpool too, home ground of The Beatles, had also suddenly arrived on the social map as a fun place to hang out. Boutiques and coffee bars were opening up everywhere to meet the demands of this new youth culture.
Gitannes and Gauloises had become the fashionable cigarettes to smoke, especially for males, along with owning a suped up Austin Mini with tinted windows. Attractive young men were referred to as 'dishy' by admiring girls, and anything good was 'fab'.
It seemed to me that all young girls aspired to look like Françoise Hardy, Marianne Faithful and Julie Christie, or model girls such as Jean Shrimpton, Twiggy and my friend Kate Marshall.
The coltish leg look was decidedly ‘in’; clad in hip-hugging jeans, textured or ribbed tights worn over the micro-mini, and all had to be accompanied by shiny, high leather boots.
With the birth-pill and family planning now freely available to young women over sixteen, it was considered 'cool' to have an insouciant attitude to life. I'd noticed how my younger clients had become extremely worldly in their views and general attitude whilst still retaining a look of gamine innocence. Altogether a playful promiscuity had taken over, and with it had come the desire to do anything risqué.
Indeed, at our last Miss Courtney fashion show I witnessed a young model
bragging to another about brazenly smoking a joint only a few yards away from Her Majesty the Queen at Royal Ascot.
'The ultimate in hipness, darling,' she'd said to her friend. 'And you'll never guess. The Queen's horse, Royal Smoke, romped home first that afternoon! Such a hoot!'
I couldn't help wondering if these girls and boys knew what they were getting themselves into, by becoming lost in the latest wild pleasures of drugs. And might these 'groovy times' perhaps turn to tragedy for some of them?
Pondering over these facts, I was mindful that if I was to be any success at all with my fashion business, I must cater for these thin young waifs. All the same, I was determined to create an exclusiveness of my own. I needed to strike a balance between the classic chic of couture fashion and a more essential contemporary appeal. Boutique fashion was thriving, and the younger generation was the biggest target.
These young girls, along with female pop stars like Cilla Black, Sandie Shaw and Susan Maughan, seemed to have plenty of money to spend on all the latest fashions. I intended to grab a chunk of this niche market.
Walking along, totally absorbed in the milieu and my private thoughts, I was suddenly distracted by an old maroon Riley pulling up beside me.
It was Norman Parker Brown on his own, in jeans and a black leather jacket and looking very attractive, I thought, for an older man.
'Hi, Annabel, I'm going in the direction of Eaton Square, if that's where you're heading?'
I grinned. 'Yes, I am.’
'Hop in then!'
I thanked him and got in. As we continued up the Kings Road chatting about this and that, he told me Kate was modelling in Florida. When we reached the flat I asked if he had time to come in for a coffee.
'Thanks; I could use one. You go on in while I park up.'
Upstairs I hastily hunted out my percolator and some Kenco ground coffee, and when Norman came in it was on the stove perking away. I normally used the instant kind but I was sure he probably only drank the real thing.
He was in a charming, flattering mood, complimenting me on the flat; although it was no match for his elegant place.
Over coffee, I decided to tell him about my recent good fortune. Problems about Alex and the divorce quite forgotten, I divulged hopes and ideas for my new fashion business.
'What wonderful news, Annabel. I'm delighted for you. If I can help at all don't hesitate to ask. I've loads of contacts in the business; many whom I'm sure could be extremely useful to you. It's a big step you're taking; you must make sure you don't waste your money. Where do you want to base yourself?' He offered me a Gitannes.
I rarely smoked but I loved the aroma from these French brands so I accepted one. He lit it for me and, as I inhaled, a light-headed feeling instantly came over me. They were certainly much stronger than any I'd ever smoked before. Oh my God, I thought, closing my eyes momentarily; now is hardly the best time to pass out.
'Well...' I paused, allowing my head to clear. 'I think ideally Kensington or Knightsbridge. Too many others are based in Chelsea. I must try to be a bit more exclusive.'
'Good thinking. How large do your premises need to be?'
I put my cigarette down on the ashtray and took a deep breath. Then, pouring us both more coffee, I explained my needs. 'And of course I'd like a decent window of some sort to display one or two garments. Probably what I want doesn't even exist.'
But Norman seemed genuinely interested. 'Oh I'm sure it does somewhere, Annabel. I'll keep my eyes open, shall I? I can't promise anything but a couple of possibilities do spring to mind that might just fit the bill for you.'
'Thanks. That would be super.' By now my head was beginning to clear, and so, picking up the cigarette again, I took great care not to inhale any more.
He asked if I was intending to inform Courtneys straight away. Hell, I hadn't given that a moment's thought yet.
'To be honest I'm not sure what to do. But I might wait until I'm more organised with my plans. In any case it'll all take some time to set up, and my stepfather says the money probably won't be released until late January.'
'Ah, best not to rush it then. You might as well stay employed as long as you can whilst you sort yourself out.'
I agreed and we chatted on in a relaxed way. I liked his warm, friendly manner. He was one of the most attractive older men I'd ever met and Cleo had taken to him too, allowing him to stroke her as she lay on the sofa beside him. Taking back my previous opinion of him before we'd ever met, I decided Kate really should appreciate him much more than she appeared to.
He then rushed off just before six, explaining he was dining later that evening with the Astors at Clivedon. But as we parted he once more promised to look out for some suitable premises for me. With Rowley's brother also doing the same, I was now fired with optimism.
Later, I was preparing for bed and the TV show That Was The Week, That Was had come to an end, when the phone rang. I turned off Millicent Martin's snappy theme song to answer it. It was Alex on the line.
'Hi, honey, I thought I'd let you know I'll be back in a couple of days and give you the latest news. I've tried phoning a few times. You've been busy, I gather?'
I explained quickly where I'd been and then he filled me in with much of the same information I'd already gleaned from Vanessa.
'So where exactly does this leave things now?' I asked.
'Well, the important thing is Susannah has definitely got cold feet so I'm hopeful now that we'll be able keep your name out of things. Obviously it'll be a kind of trade off. My lover won't be named as long as no dirt gets dished up about Mel. Whether there is any truth in the lesbian angle with them I really don't know or care any more, as long as we can reach a reasonable and amicable settlement and come to an agreement over joint custody of Nikolas. She'll probably have him most of the time but I still want the freedom to see him whenever I can, without too many restrictions. In fact the lawyers are thrashing that out as we speak.'
'Even over the weekend?'
'Oh yes! They get paid damn well for it too!'
'I'm so glad Lynda's information was some use,' I remarked cheerfully. 'Mel must've been pretty shocked to know that her past had caught up with her! How was it put to Susannah?'
'It wasn't, not exactly. My lawyers just explained to hers that we have a signed document divulging knowledge about Mel's lesbian background. I guess once she got wind of such damning evidence, Mel herself begged Susannah to keep it out of things. Anyway, it certainly means I'm now in an ideal bargaining position.'
Alex sounded buoyant. I could hear quite a hubbub in the background. He was obviously ringing from a public place. He continued. 'There's still the settlement figure to sort out but I don't anticipate she'll ease up much over that. The figure currently suggested is about two million dollars, as a one-off pay out.'
'Alex, that's an awful lot of money!'
'I know, honey. But her lawyers maintain it must include provision for essentials such as plane fares, clothing, a second home and so on; plus I shall be obliged to pay maintenance for Nikolas of about two thousand dollars a month. Nannies don't come cheap, you know.'
I had no idea what Alex's personal wealth was but I'd read how such divorce cases often place far too much emphasis on accepted reasonable requirements of the wife and any children. This divorce could almost break him.
'Anyway, we'll talk about it when I get back,' he said. 'The good news is that you can relax now, because you won't be involved. I'll have to go, honey, see you soon.'
It was excellent news, and I was relieved things were finally working out more favourably for him even though the settlement figure he'd quoted hardly seemed fair. But Alex was used to talking in thousands and millions of dollars. I realised then I hadn't mentioned my own piece of good fortune. Never mind, it could wait until his return.
Through the telephone I could hear the arrival of a flight from Miami being announcement. 'Are you at an airport, Alex?'
He explained he was meeting a client for
his father, and with that he hastily rang off.
As I snuggled down into bed it flashed through my mind that Saturday afternoon - as it would be over there, due to the time difference, seemed an odd time to be meeting a business client. Don't they ever take time off in the States?
*
On Sunday afternoon I put up a few Christmas decorations. As I stood back admiring my finished efforts, I accidently trod on Cleo's tail, she'd been playing behind me with a discarded piece of tinsel. Swearing crossly at me with a yelping meow she darted out of the room. I was about to go after her to sooth her, when the doorbell suddenly interrupted me. It was Norman Parker Brown calling on the off chance. I was delighted and pressed the release button to let him in.
'I hope you don't mind me dropping by, Annabel. Are you busy?' He was again in jeans and leather jacket.
'No. Why?' I ushered him through to the sitting room, where Cleo had returned thankfully none the worse for her tail's contact with my foot.
'I'd like to show you some premises, which I think might just be what you're looking for.'
'Really? Where?'
'Knightsbridge. You could have a look this afternoon, if you've time? I have the keys on me now. Hallo again, puss,' he said gently, crouching to stroke Cleo, who was winding herself round his legs and looking up at him appealingly.
'Wonderful. I'll be ready in five minutes.'
*
The premises in Beauchamp Place had once been Norman's own showroom and studios. He'd used them until he'd moved on fifteen years back to do freelance fashion work, involving so much travelling and living abroad.
'The photographer who most recently rented it from me moved to Australia last month. I couldn't say anything to you yesterday because I'd already offered it to someone else. But I learnt this morning that she doesn't want it. So if you think it's suitable you're most welcome to take it on?'
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