London

by Carina Axelsson

  I sprang out of bed and watched with amusement as Halley buried herself deeper into my duvet.

  “And don’t forget you have the Marc Jacobs show at noon!” Mom called as she went down the stairs.

  I rushed to my bathroom and showered as quickly as I could. No time to dry my hair, I thought. Another day, another tumbleweed. Well, if models all had perfect hair, there’d be no work for hairstylists, now would there?

  In fact, I thought, as I watched my hair start to frizz, the hairstylists of the fashion world owe me!

  I dressed quickly. Today’s outfit consisted of a short, striped top, boyish gray pants that looked really cute (I thought so anyway) tucked into my black Doc Martins, and—I think it was the Johnny Vane influence—a black leather biker jacket my mom had bought me after I’d finished my exams. It was actually really cool, and perfect for the sunny yet breezy (judging from the treetops) early summer weather. I rounded it all off with my brightly colored camouflage Mulberry backpack. I put my glasses on and went downstairs to meet Tallulah.

  My mom left the house just after I came down. She had some shopping to do—my dad was coming back tonight—so after a quick good-bye I was on my own with Tallulah. I showed her into our living room and we started to talk.

  “How’s Gavin?”

  Tallulah smiled the first big smile I’d seen from her! “Thank you for asking. I’m happy to give you a glowing report, finally! Gavin’s well. He’s out of the coma and they’re running tests, but it looks like he’s sustained no long-term damage. I need hardly tell you what a relief that is to my parents—and me. He hasn’t been able to say much yet but we’re positive he’ll soon be as good as new. Axelle, will you please fill me in on what has happened though? The police have been in touch and I’ll be going to the station straight from here, but I want to hear it from you first.”

  Without missing any details, I told her about the previous night’s confrontation and everything that had led up to it.

  “I had no idea it would all be so complicated,” she said.

  “Neither did I,” I said. And I meant it.

  “It’s hard to believe it was Jane who attacked Gavin,” Tallulah said. “But of course who would ever suspect a ‘blind woman’?”

  “I know. It’s obviously a role she likes to play to throw people off their guard. She tried it on me when I surprised her at her house on Wednesday night, pretending she couldn’t see the photo. But if you hadn’t mentioned there’d been a blind woman on the Embankment the morning Gavin was attacked, I’m not sure my alarm bells would have gone off. When I was at her house I saw the cane she used for her disguise in a vase in her hallway. And when I started putting two and two together, I wondered if she’d had a role in hurting your brother…but it took me a while to figure out why.”

  “And she was the one who ransacked our flat?”

  “I think so, yes. The police will confirm everything—and press charges, I presume. But it seems she did it on her own, which may explain why it was done so neatly. You should see her house.”

  “It’s tidy, is it?”

  “Very. I can easily imagine her making those clean cuts you described in your mattresses. I guess she was also the person who followed your brother that day when he ducked into the pub up the road from you, convinced someone was tailing him.”

  “And did Jane make an arrangement to meet with him on the Embankment Sunday morning?”

  “I’m not sure. It sounds like Gavin will soon be up to confirming what his plans were that morning and I’d love to ask him. All Jane wanted to talk about last night was what a monster Clarissa was. I did hear, however, that Jane was desperate to get her hands on the copy of the photo that Georgie had sent to Gavin—not that she knew it was Georgie who’d sent it.”

  “Then how did Jane even know that Gavin had the photo?”

  “The police asked the same question last night. And according to what Johnny said, after your brother received the photo he asked Johnny about it. Johnny laughed the whole thing off, but he did mention it to Jane…thinking she’d laugh it off too. Only she didn’t. In fact, she became consumed with the idea that Gavin was on to her.

  “She was sure he’d discovered the correlation between the birthmark and what happened all those years ago—and I have a feeling she might have been right. Gavin had spent quite a bit of time photographing Johnny and must have seen him without his gloves on at some point.”

  “I knew it,” Tallulah said as we wound our meeting down. “I knew everything was connected somehow. Thank you, Axelle, for believing me, and thank you for getting to the bottom of it all.”

  We eventually left the house. I did have a show to do, and Jazz had already called twice to make sure I wasn’t going to be late. Tallulah accompanied Halley and me to Notting Hill Gate, and we talked all the way. We made a quick detour via the Dawson Place mansion though. Tallulah was very curious to see it.

  “It looks creepy,” she said as she looked up at the four large, stone eagles keeping watch from the corners of the roof. “They should sell it. Why hang on to it when it’s got such a creepy history?”

  “Well, I think they will sell it now. I’m sure Jane and Caro would have liked to have seen the house sold years ago. In fact, Georgie told me Caro and Jane had often talked to her about selling the house, but Georgie had refused to sell her half of it. She and Johnny—or do I call him Julian, it’s so confusing!—had inherited it. She wanted to hang on to it to have somewhere where she could ‘visit’ her mother and feel close to her.

  “In fact, by hanging on to it, she made it possible for me to uncover the truth. If the house had been sold and subdivided or who knows what, it would have been impossible to piece together the events of that sunny afternoon all those years ago. But I think now that she’s had closure, Georgie will want to sell.”

  Tallulah and I parted ways at Notting Hill Gate. She looked forward to telling Gavin everything but nonetheless asked me if I would visit them both as soon as he was back home in their flat so that I could talk to him myself.

  “Absolutely,” I said. “I would really like to meet him. I’m curious to know how much he’d already figured out.”

  Halley and I hopped on the Tube and caught a southbound Circle line train. Five minutes later we got off at South Kensington station. From there I walked the short distance to the Natural History Museum, where the Marc Jacobs show was taking place.

  To be honest, my mind wasn’t really on the show. I knew it was kind of a “big deal” as the agency put it—Marc Jacobs always is—but after the week I’d had, complete with the extremely close-up (no pun intended!) view I’d had of fashion’s less attractive side—jealousy, deceit, lies, and a sick suppression of the truth—walking down the runway wasn’t really what I wanted to focus on at that moment.

  “Your mind is totally elsewhere, today, Axelle,” Ellie said as we sat backstage having our hair done. “You’re still thinking about the case, aren’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “And? What else?”

  “And nothing else.”

  Ellie laughed. “I know you too well for that to work with me, Axelle.”

  “All right, Nancy Drew, then what else do I have on my mind?”

  “Sebastian, I bet. You’re meeting him afterward, aren’t you?”

  I nodded as I fed Halley one of the organic doggy treats I’d brought from home.

  “Well, just so you know—although it doesn’t take a detective to guess what I’m going to say—Josh is here too. He’s already been asking about you. I have no doubt he’s planning on coming backstage just to see you.”

  In fact, Ellie was right. Josh did come to see me, but he wasn’t alone. I’d changed into my own clothes, brushed my hair out, and was just removing my makeup when I heard him come up behind me. I turned, and there he was dressed like a pop star—with his grandmother.


  I thanked her again for everything and told her that my friend was out of danger. “I’m so glad I could be of help,” she said. She winked as she said it, an easy smile on her lips, as if she understood everything I wasn’t telling her. I wondered if the story of Jane’s arrest had already made it into the media.

  “I hope we meet again, Axelle,” she said, then before I could shake her hand, a microphone came between us and she turned to answer some questions for a news channel.

  A moment later, Josh discreetly motioned for me to follow him. I did, but I made sure to stay a little bit behind him. Once we reached some large screens that were acting as room dividers, Josh and I slipped around them unnoticed.

  “So when will I see you again, Axelle?” he asked. “Or do I have to arrange for another surprise meeting in a revolving door?”

  Josh was nice, sweet, good-looking, and charming—not that I ever thought I’d say all that when I’d first bumped into him. And although it was actually fun to connect with someone like him on the fashion side of my life, there was another person in my life who I connected with more.

  “Josh, I really like you…but there is someone else. It’s a bit complicated right now, but I’m happy.”

  “Why did I have the feeling you were going to tell me something like this?” Josh said lightly as he took one of my hands.

  He wasn’t making this any easier but I knew I had to be honest. “Josh, you and I have totally different lives. I’d constantly want to run away from the realities you have to deal with—paparazzi, fans, and all the rest… I mean, I hate that stuff! And I don’t think I’d ever be at ease with it.”

  “Yeah, but that’s precisely one of the reasons you’re so special—that and your spiky stubbornness.” He smiled. “Seriously though, you’re the first person I’ve met in I don’t know how long who isn’t obsessed with my fame—although for a while there you did seem to have a thing about my grandmother. I’ve never had that happen before,” he said, laughing.

  “Listen, Axelle.” His voice dropped to a near whisper as he looked at me, his eyes flickering softly in the light, and ran his hands gently through my hair. “I hear what you’re saying, and I can wait. It’s not like you and I don’t live in the same city, and it’s not like we won’t see each other at another show. I’m going on tour on Monday and I’ll be gone for a few months…but how about I give you a call when I get back?”

  He laughed when he saw my lips move into that sort of frozen half smile I have when I’m not sure what to say. “You’re incredible,” he said. “And by the way, don’t change while I’m gone. I’ll be very disappointed if I come back and you actually agree to a date with me.” He was smiling, but then he suddenly leaned in and gently kissed my cheek. “Take care. I’ll call you when I’m back. Now, why don’t you step out first and I’ll follow in a couple of minutes.”

  I nodded slowly as I looked at him for a moment, unsure of what to think about everything he’d just said. All kinds of conflicting feelings and thoughts raced through my mind. A part of me couldn’t help but be flattered by his desire to get to know me better, and yet the way he was so sure that I’d come around to him seemed almost…arrogant. Argh! Where was my Clue-like ending? I’d had one for my case, but not for my heart.

  “Take care, Josh, and have a blast on your tour,” I finally said—and I meant it. Then I turned and quietly returned to the backstage frenzy beyond the screen.

  It was a stunning Saturday afternoon: blue skies, high clouds, and a light breeze. It was a short distance to Hyde Park. From the museum, Halley and I walked along Exhibition Road, into the park, and across to the Serpentine Gallery. Sebastian was waiting for us there, and he even had a picnic lunch—blanket included.

  “You’re a genius,” I said.

  “That’s high praise indeed, Holmes, especially for just a couple of sandwiches.”

  “You’re right. I’d better taste them first.”

  “Ouch. Still spiky, even after the day we had yesterday?”

  I punched him on the arm.

  We walked until we found a quiet spot (we were hardly the only ones picnicking in the park that afternoon) under a lovely old oak tree. From where we sat we had the most gorgeous view toward the Italian garden end of the Serpentine. Swans glided serenely across the water and birds chirped overhead. It was the most tranquil ending to an otherwise action-packed week.

  “You know,” Sebastian said after a while, “I’ve been thinking about a way I could spend more time here.”

  “Really? How?”

  “Well, before I tell you about my plans, there’s one thing I want to do first.”

  And before I could say anything, Sebastian pulled me to him and kissed me hard. Before long his kisses became slow and sweet. We kissed for a long, long time. And let me just say, there’s definitely something about being outside on a warm, sunny afternoon on the grass under a lovely old tree, kissing a gorgeous guy, that’s quite special. I’d always wondered what the big deal was with picnics and stuff, but that afternoon Sebastian showed me exactly why the cliché worked.

  I don’t know how long we would have remained lip-locked, but suddenly my phone rang.

  And rang.

  “Answer it,” Sebastian said as he pulled away from me. “Maybe it’s your mom or Tallulah.”

  In fact, it was Jazz.

  “Axelle,” she said excitedly, “I know it’s a bit late to be calling now, and on a Saturday, but what I’ve got to ask you absolutely, totally cannot wait until Monday.”

  I practically had to hold the phone away from my ear. Jazz was actually squeaking with excitement.

  “Italian Vogue is doing a shoot on Monday in Milan, and they’d like to book you for it. It would mean leaving tomorrow. I know it’s last minute—even for fashion—but they couldn’t decide on the girls. Anyway, now they’ve chosen you, and you’ll be doing the booking with Ellie. I don’t have to tell you that doing Italian Vogue is as good as it gets in modeling. It will give your career a huge push, Axelle, huge.”

  Jazz had to take a moment to catch her breath after her words had tumbled out so rapidly. “And then Charlotte thought you could stay there for a week and do some castings, go-sees, and so forth. You already have another option—for Miu Miu—so you could very well end up with more bookings. Can I tell Vogue we’ll confirm?”

  I didn’t know what to say. Sebastian was leaving tomorrow evening, and so far we hadn’t had a chance to do any sightseeing at all—thanks to me. If I accepted the booking, we wouldn’t even have tomorrow. After all the fuss I’d made about us being so far apart all the time, I couldn’t decide this on my own. I turned to look at him.

  Sebastian had heard the whole conversation. He shrugged his shoulders and nodded at me.

  “Are you sure?” I mouthed.

  Again he nodded and gave me a thumbs-up.

  Well, why not then? I thought. I’d studied like mad for my exams and still had some time to kill before the results came in and school started again. I was sure my mom would be all over the idea. In fact, she’d probably want to come and visit. And Ellie and I hadn’t done a booking together since Paris. Working with her again would be fun. Besides, I’d never been to Italy. And I loved pasta. And pizza. And gelato.

  I told Jazz I had to ask my mom but that I’d call her back ASAP.

  My mom sounded even more excited than Jazz, if that was possible, so I called Jazz back and told her to confirm.

  “That’s great, Axelle! I’ll get you the flight times later today.”

  “So what about your plan? The one you wanted to tell me about?” I asked Sebastian afterward, as we lay side by side on our backs and watched the clouds drift past overhead.

  “Well, I’m thinking that there may be a Part I to my plans now…”

  “How so?”

  “Well, I’ve never seen the Duomo.”

  �
��The Duomo? Like, the cathedral? Which one?”

  “The one in Milan.”

  HOW TO SPEAK SUPERMODEL

  Axelle’s guide to surviving in the world of fashion

  If you want to blend in with the fashion set, it’s worth learning the lingo. Here’s a handy guide.

  *BOOK: This is another word for the all-important portfolio models have. A book or portfolio is used to show clients and designers both how a model looks in photos, and what kind of work they’ve done.

  *BOOKER: A staff member at an agency whose job is to handle requests from clients and to represent and set up appointments for models.

  *CASTING DIRECTOR: Hired by a designer to organize fashion-show castings. They meet hundreds of models, watch them walk, and look at their portfolios before narrowing the choice to those models that best fit the designer’s vision.

  *FASHION MUSE: A person, often a model, who inspires a fashion designer with their sense of style, personality, and beauty. Think Audrey Hepburn and Hubert de Givenchy, or Kate Moss and John Galliano.

  *FITTING: A session that may take place before a fashion show or photo shoot where the clothes to be modeled are fit onto the model.

  *GO-SEE: An appointment for a model to see a photographer or a client. Unlike a casting, there is no specific brief.

  *LOOKBOOK: A set of photos used by fashion designers to show their newest collections to clients. Usually bound like a small book.

  *MODEL FLAT: A flat that a modeling agency owns and rents out to models who are either too young to rent an apartment on their own, or who are just starting out and have moved from another town or another country.

  *MOOD BOARD: A collage of inspirational images, texts, and even samples (like fabric) that fashion designers, editors, and photographers use to spur their creativity.

  *NEW FACES: Models who are new to the business.

  *OPTIONS: An option is put to a model by a client to see if he or she would be available for a shoot. Options are then either confirmed as a booking, or released.