I’d been here about a year when I saw the job advertised. It was for a sales girl at a boutique called Fantaisie in Chelsea. The name intrigued me. If ever a place was made with me in mind this had to be it! I applied and was offered an interview, I took a trip up to the King’s Road to suss the place out and my heart sank a bit when I saw how posh and up-market it was, but having been offered an interview I wasn’t going to pass it up. On the day I took a lot of trouble with my make-up, did my best to tame my horrible hair and searched my skimpy wardrobe for something suitable to wear but when I got there it was obvious that I couldn’t hold a candle to the other applicants. I was totally gob-smacked when I was offered the job. I think what swung it for me was the GCSEs in art and needlework and the fact that I was willing and able to do customers’ alterations.
So that’s all about me. Not very exciting like Sophie and Fran, is it? I haven’t found a rich, handsome husband and I haven’t achieved any dreams – yet. But I’m happy with my job and my little sideline. I lost touch with my brothers back in Ireland when Gran died but now and again Liam comes down to London to see me. He and Shauna split up a few years ago. In the end she did a bunk with some guy she was working with. I think secretly Liam was relieved. He’s with a lovely girl now and seems very happy. Sometimes he brings Declan with him. Dec’s nearly twenty now and at Leicester University. He’s grown up to be a very nice young man considering what a lousy start he had. He’s not bad looking except that he’s got my crazy red hair, poor kid, but he turned out to be quite clever and he’s studying architecture. I often think how proud Mum would have been, God bless her.
By the time it was ten o’clock my eyes were beginning to smart so I put the sewing away and made myself a cup of cocoa. While I was drinking it I got the card out of my bag and looked again at the numbers and addresses on it. It would be fun to keep in touch with Soph and Fran. Did they really mean it when they said they’d like to meet up again? These things are easy to say in the heat of the moment, but after a few days back in their busy and eventful lives they might regret saying it and secretly hope they wouldn’t hear from me again. I tucked the card back inside my bag. Oh well, time would tell, wouldn’t it? And whatever happens it was lovely to see them both again.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘Good morning, Fantaisie Boutique, Imogene speaking. How can I help?’
Clearly the voice wasn’t Katie’s, as Fran had hoped it would be. ‘I wonder, would it be possible to speak to one of your assistants,’ she asked. ‘Katie MacEvoy?’
There was a brief frosty silence at the other end of the line. ‘May I ask what it is about? Is it an emergency?’
‘Well, no. She’s an old friend of mine and I’ve lost her number,’ Fran paused. ‘It’s not really a personal call. I need an outfit for a special occasion and I know she works there. I was going to ask….’
‘Oh, I see. Please hold. I’ll see if she’s free. Can I give her your name?’
‘Of course. It’s Frances Grayson.’
A few minutes later Katie’s voice came over the line. ‘Hi, Fran. How lovely to hear from you.’
‘I’m so sorry to ring you at work, Katie, but I’ve somehow mislaid your number.’
‘That’s OK.’ Katie tried to ignore Imogene’s eyes boring into her. The boutique’s owner was very strict about personal calls. ‘Maybe I could ring you back in my lunch break. We’re a bit busy at the moment and I’d love to chat.’
‘Right. You’ve got my number?’
‘’Course. Talk later then. Bye.’ Katie replaced the receiver and glanced apologetically at her boss. ‘Sorry about that, Imogene. She’d lost my number and….’
‘So she said.’ Imogene looked over the tops of her glasses. ‘Katie, I hardly need to remind you of my rule about personal calls. It’s most unprofessional.’
‘Well I know that, but she didn’t. I’ve said I’m sorry. I’m ringing her back in my lunch break.’
‘She mentioned that she needed an outfit for a special occasion,’ Imogene said. ‘I hope you’re not giving this number to your dressmaking customers.’
Katie winced. Her secret had been blown a few weeks ago when the mother of one of her brides had brought photographs of the wedding into the shop to show her. There was nothing Imogene could do about it of course but she’d been throwing out snide little remarks ever since.
Katie shook her head. ‘Fran is married to a very wealthy businessman,’ she said. ‘If she’s looking for a special outfit it’ll have to have a designer label.’
The frost holding the corners of Imogene’s mouth down thawed and they lifted slightly. ‘Oh! Well, in that case I hope you’ll do all you can to encourage her to buy it here. Have you any idea what the occasion might be?’
‘I didn’t get the chance to find out, did I?’ Katie said. ‘Maybe she’ll tell me at lunch.’
In spite of what Katie had told Frances, the shop wasn’t busy at all and she knew that Imogene was worried. The turnover had dropped alarmingly since the beginning of the year. So much so that the newest girl Imogene had taken on as a junior had recently been let go. Plenty of people came in to look round but not so many were willing or able to fork out the prices Imogene charged any more. Katie had tentatively suggested stocking a cheaper range or that Fantaisie might start a hire service, mainly for hats and ball gowns, but the boutique’s owner had thrown up her hands in horror at the very idea.
‘Things aren’t that bad! I sincerely hope that Fantaisie will never be reduced to that,’ she said.
Katie said nothing but she knew that if she was running the boutique she’d do anything to keep it afloat. She also sensed that some of Imogene’s friends, the ones she was so afraid of losing face with, were as hard up as she was and would welcome help with keeping up appearances.
In her lunch hour Katie usually went to a little fast food café near the underground station. Tucked into a corner with her panini and coffee she took out her mobile and the card with Fran’s address and landline number on it and tapped it in. Fran answered almost at once.
‘Hi, Katie. Thanks for ringing back. I hope I didn’t cause any problems earlier.’
‘No, don’t worry. You mentioned making a trip to town for an outfit. When do you plan on coming?’
‘Well, next week actually. I thought I’d ring Sophie and see if she’s available to come too and the three of us could meet up – maybe have lunch?’
‘That sounds lovely. I get the afternoon free on Thursdays because normally I work all day Saturday. I was only able to come to the reunion because Imogene owed me some time off.’
‘That would be great. Next Thursday would be fine for me and as it’s the school holidays Sophie should be free too. I’ll ring her right away and get back to you. I’ve got your number on my phone now.’
‘OK. I’ll look forward to seeing you both.’
Katie felt buoyed up as she walked back to work. She’d been hoping she’d see her two old school friends again and if Fran bought a nice outfit it would earn her a few brownie points with Imogene too.
By closing time on Saturday Fantaisie had suffered its worst week ever. Katie found Imogene in the office, her shoulders slumped as she pored over the boutique’s accounts on her computer. In front of her on the desk was her calculator, a glass and a half empty bottle of wine. She looked up and hastily tried to adjust her expression as Katie looked in.
‘Oh, Katie! I thought you’d gone home.’
‘No, I was just putting the dust sheets on and having a tidy round.’ She took a tentative step forward. ‘You look tired. Shall I make you a coffee before I go?’
Imogene removed her glasses and pulled back her shoulders. ‘I need something a bit stronger than coffee.’ She closed down the computer with a flourish and threw her calculator into a drawer. ‘Sod this lot! Let’s go to the pub.’
‘Oh!’ Katie was taken aback. ‘Well, OK if you like.’
‘I do like, most definitely. I need to talk to you too, so get you
r coat.’
It was a pleasant warm evening and The Feathers, the pub round the corner from Fantaisie, had tables outside among a profusion of flower-filled tubs and hanging baskets. Window boxes overflowed with begonias and geraniums and the air was heady with the scent of dianthus. Imogene chose a table near the door under one of the striped umbrellas and disappeared inside the pub to return a few minutes later carrying two double gins and bottles of tonic water on a tray. Katie was mystified. She’d been working with Imogene for three years but this was the first time she had ever showed any sign of cordiality, let alone invited her to share a social drink. She looked at her boss speculatively. There had to be a snag. Was she about to get the sack? Was business so bad that the boutique was going into bankruptcy? She poured tonic into her glass, took a sip and waited.
Imogene sloshed a small amount of tonic into her gin and swallowed most of it in one gulp. Sighing deeply, she leaned back in her chair. ‘Ah, that’s better.’ She looked at Katie, her face serious. ‘You’re a good little worker, Katie. I may not always show it but I do appreciate all your hard work.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that we’ve just had our worst week yet.’
‘I know we haven’t sold much.’
‘That’s the understatement of the year!’ Imogene sighed. ‘We’ve got to the stage when something has to be done or I’m very much afraid we’re going under.’
‘I’m really sorry about that.’ Katie took another sip of her drink, wondering what was coming next.
‘We’ve been trading at a loss for the past three months now,’ Imogene went on. ‘And I don’t mean peanuts. I’ve just had a bill through from the last buying trip. There was a letter with it. They won’t deliver the stock until they receive payment.’
‘Oh dear. I’m sorry.’
Imogene frowned. ‘For God’s sake stop saying you’re sorry. You sound like a bloody parrot, Katie. I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to come up with some ideas.’
‘Me?’ Katie stared at her employer. ‘You wouldn’t want to know about any of my ideas. You said….’
‘Never mind what I said. These are desperate times.’ Imogene blew out her cheeks. ‘Bloody hell, I’ve got to have another drink.’ She picked up her glass and looked at Katie. ‘Another for you?’
Katie nodded. ‘OK, thanks but just the tonic this time.’ She indicated her still half full glass. Not having eaten much all day the gin was making her head spin a little but it also had the effect of making her more relaxed and confident. Imogene had asked for ideas, well, OK she’d got plenty of those and if Imogene didn’t like them – well, tough. It looked as though she was the one in the driving seat at the moment.
When Imogene was seated again, Katie took a deep breath. ‘I’ll tell you one thing: if the boutique was mine I’d do anything to keep it afloat.’
Imogene pulled a face. ‘Not anything, surely?’ She downed her second double gin without the addition of tonic water and giggled like a schoolgirl. ‘You’re not going to suggest we open the upstairs rooms as a knocking shop, are you?’ She giggled again and hiccupped, so loudly that a few of the other customers turned to look at her.
Katie was embarrassed. How many glasses of wine had Imogene had before she started on the gin? ‘Of course I’m not,’ she said. ‘What do you take me for?’ She tried not to meet the amused glances of the other drinkers.
Imogene looked suitably contrite. ‘Now it’s my turn to say sorry, Katie. I’m embarrassing you. Fact is I’ve had nothing to eat all day and I think I’m a tiny bit drunk. Pop inside and get me a packet of crisps, there’s a dear.’
The crisps seemed to do little to mop up the alcohol Imogene had consumed but she calmed down a little as she munched them. ‘OK, sweetie,’ she said, crumpling the empty packet. ‘Sock it to me. Throw me a life belt.’
Katie looked doubtful. ‘Maybe you’d feel more like brainstorming tomorrow when you – you’re….’
‘Sober?’ Imogene reached out her hand. ‘Believe me, if I can’t see any light at the end of the tunnel tonight there probably won’t be a tomorrow. It’s as bad as that. Just give me something to hang on to, Katie, there’s a love.’ She leaned forward confidentially. ‘Look, I’ll be straight with you; my ex-husband put up the cash to open Fantaisie. He always said I was a fool when it came to running a business and I can’t let him be proved right, can I?’
Katie looked hopeful. ‘I suppose he wouldn’t help, would he?’
‘What, Andrew the Almighty?’ Imogene snorted. ‘Like hell he would! I can just see his smug, gloating face if I went grovelling to him. He said when he walked out that I’d never survive without him.’ Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and her lower lip wobbled. ‘But I will, Katie. I bloody will if it kills me!’
Katie chewed her bottom lip. This was about more than money. Imogene’s self esteem was at stake here too. ‘I did suggest starting a hiring service,’ she offered tentatively. ‘I’m pretty sure a lot of your customers are feeling the pinch too but they don’t want people to know. You could do designer ball gowns, wedding outfits, hats for Ascot – stuff like that.’
‘But they could only go out once,’ Imogene complained. ‘I’ve got quite a small clientele of regular customers as you know. Most of them know each other and go to the same functions. It would be too awful for two of them to hire the same dress. It could ruin me.’
‘You’d have to keep careful records of where the things had been worn and who by,’ Katie said. ‘But I’m sure it could be done.’
Imogene sat back and thought about it. ‘I suppose it might work if I could carry a large enough stock,’ she conceded. ‘But haut-couture costs a bomb and I might not be able to hire things out enough times to cover the initial cost.’
Katie thought for a moment. ‘You would if you went downmarket with them after a few hirings.’
Imogene frowned. ‘Downmarket?’ She spat the word out as though it tasted bad. ‘You know how I feel about that.’
‘I meant somewhere else, not at Fantaisie.’
‘But that would mean renting another shop. More expense! I can barely afford the rent on Fantaisie the way things are.’
‘You could let me have them,’ Katie said with a sudden burst of inspiration. ‘We’d have everything dry cleaned and I could do any repairs necessary, then I’d have them at the flat and let my customers have the benefit of them – at a cheaper rate.’
Imogene looked doubtful ‘I’m not sure that it’d be legal for you to run a business like that from your flat. What about your landlord?’
‘He knows I do a bit of dressmaking. It would just be an extension of that.’
‘Would your customers have any need for designer clothes?’
‘You bet they would! They’ve got just as good taste as your customers – just not the money. They’d jump at the chance to go to a wedding in something with a designer label.’ She glanced at Imogene as another idea bubbled to the surface. ‘Eventually we could even sell them second hand.’
Imogene looked stunned. After chewing this idea over for a moment she looked at Katie. ‘You know, I do believe you might have something there,’ she said slowly. ‘Of course we’d have to cost it all out.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘What would be in it for you though? I mean, you clearly aren’t planning to do all this for nothing.’
‘Of course I’m not!’ Katie said firmly. ‘To begin with it’d do me out of a lot of business. And I’d need a bigger flat.’ As Imogene’s mouth opened, Katie held up her hand. ‘But, I happen to know that the ground floor flat where I live now is about to become vacant. It’s got a two bedrooms and a living room. I could use one of the bedrooms for the business.’
‘You’d have to be completely up front with your landlord.’
‘Of course. But I don’t see why he’d object. Anyway, if it really took off we might be able to rent a little shop,’ she added hopefully.
‘Let’s walk before we try running
,’ Imogene said wryly. ‘I’d have to pay you considerably more than I do now for all this and what with one thing and another I don’t know how I’d finance it all. I’m going to have a problem paying for the stock I’ve just ordered, let alone branching out into a new venture.’ She shook her head. ‘It sounds like a massive risk.’
‘They say you have to speculate to accumulate,’ Katie said. ‘You could ask the bank for a loan.’
Imogene nodded thoughtfully. ‘Or re-mortgage my house.’
‘It all depends on what Fantaisie means to you and whether you’re brave enough to take the bull by he horns.’ Katie looked up suddenly. ‘I know, why don’t you let me do some research?’
‘What kind of research?’
‘Give me a day off on Monday and I’ll go round all the dress hire places. I’ll get them from the Yellow Pages, up and down- market places. I could see what they charge and do a bit of snooping.’ She grinned. ‘Who knows? We might even be able to offer a slightly cheaper rate….’
‘Undercut? That’s a bit of a cheek.’
‘But not illegal.’ Katie shrugged. ‘Well, it’s just a thought.’
‘Katie, you’re a treasure,’ Imogene said with a grin. ‘A devious treasure but a treasure nonetheless. OK, Monday is all yours. Go and do your darndest.’
The following Monday Katie hit the ground running. On Sunday she’d contacted her landlord about the ground floor flat, asking what the rent would be and securing his promise of first refusal when it became vacant. Then, with the aid of the Yellow Pages she made a list of as many dress-hire shops as she thought she could manage in one day and another list of all the important details she needed to find out.
True Colours Page 5