‘And?’
‘She hasn’t found a dress yet.’
‘So, are you going to ring her?’ I asked, holding my breath. ‘Have I passed the test?’
She smiled. ‘I think I’ll let you ring her,’ she said. ‘The number’s on the desk in the office. Do it now if you like.’
I looked at her. ‘Just one thing, do I tell her I made the dresses or would you rather we kept that to ourselves?’
‘Let her see them first,’ Imogene said. ‘After that it’s up to you.’ She touched my arm as I passed her on my way to the office. ‘Well done, Katie. The dresses are beautiful.’
The customer’s name was Hilary Mason and she wanted the dress for her daughter, Isobel who’d arrived home from her job abroad engaged and in a hurry to get married before her leave was up. With no time to get a dress made she was considering buying one off the peg as a last resort. Mrs Mason arrived that afternoon with Isobel in tow. All morning I’d been having kittens, imagining that the girl would turn out to be four foot six and fifteen stone, but when she arrived I was able to relax. She was easily as slim as Carole, though maybe an inch or so shorter. She fell in love with the dress on sight and when she emerged from the changing room her mother gasped with delight.
‘Oh, darling, it’s perfect! Better than anything else we’ve seen.’
Kneeling down I began to pin up the hem. ‘It needs shortening a little but that’s not a problem. When is the wedding?’
‘Next Saturday.’
‘I’ll see that it’s ready for you,’ I said, standing up. ‘I don’t know if you’re interested but we also have two bridesmaid dresses….’
‘I’m not having any bridesmaids,’ Isobel said.
Her mother looked thoughtful. ‘Izzy, what about poor Sarah?’ she said. ‘I know she was hoping you’d ask her and she is your only sister. Surely just one bridesmaid….’ She looked at me. ‘May we see?’
I took out one of the blue dresses and Mrs Hanson purred with pleasure. ‘That shade of delphinium blue would suit Sarah so well,’ she said. ‘And it’s just her size too. What do you say, Izzy? You’ll make Sarah’s day if you let her do it.’
Isobel sighed. ‘Oh, all right if you’re so set on it.’ She looked at me. ‘We’ll bring her in to try it on in the morning if that’s all right.’ She was looking inside the neck of the wedding dress. ‘I notice there’s no label,’ she said as I took the dress from her and put it back on its hanger. ‘Who is the designer?’
I glanced at Imogene who gave me an encouraging nod. ‘Me, actually,’ I said.
Both Isobel and her mother stared at me. Isobel recovered first. ‘You designed and made it?’
‘Yes. I’ve done quite a few, for private customers.’
Mrs Hanson looked at Imogene. ‘You have a very talented assistant,’ she said.
Imogene shook her head. ‘Partner,’ she corrected. ‘Katie is my business partner.’
Two out of three dresses was fantastic but hearing myself described for the first time by Imogene as her ‘business partner’ really made my day.
Mrs Hanson asked the price and I held my breath. Imogene knew what making the dresses had cost me and the price I had planned to charge Carole, but the price she named took my breath away. Mrs Hanson nodded.
‘Very reasonable,’ she said. ‘Will the alteration be extra?’
When Isobel and her mother had left Imogene looked at me. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ll give you what you were going to charge your customer for the three dresses and the balance can go into the business. Agreed?’
I agreed. ‘And what do you think about our advertising a bridal gown design service?’ I suggested.
CHAPTER NINE
SOPHIE
I have to admit, somewhat grudgingly that the builders have made wonderful headway with the house. In a matter of weeks the bathroom and kitchen were finished and gleaming and Greenings was looking almost as I’d visualized it. But I still wasn’t happy about the loan Rex had squeezed out of my parents in order to do it.
For the first few days after my trip to see Katie and Fran, Rex and I hardly spoke and finally I decided that I needed to speak to my parents face to face. I saw no reason why I should tell Rex about my intended visit. He hadn’t told me he was about to ask for a loan, so why should I? There were only another two weeks left of the school holidays so no time to waste. I rang to ask for a convenient time and day. My mother answered the telephone.
‘Sophie! Of course you can come and see us. You don’t have to ask. We’re usually here.’
‘I thought tomorrow afternoon,’ I said. ‘Will that be all right?’
‘Of course, darling. Dad and I will look forward to seeing you.’
I put the receiver down with a grimace. Of course darling! Dad and I will look forward to seeing you. How could she still be kidding herself that we’d ever been a normal family?
The village where they’d bought their dream retirement house was about ten miles from Hamsleigh. The village was called Little Penfold. It had pretty thatched cottages, a medieval church and a village green complete with duck pond. The house was modern, but built of the local stone, in keeping with the rest of the village. When I drove in through the gates my dad was mowing the front lawn. He switched off the mower and came to meet me.
‘Hi, Sophie. Nice to see you, at last.’
‘We’ve been very busy with the house,’ I told him.
‘I know, we heard all about it from Rex. Sounds like quite a project.’
I slammed the car door. ‘That’s what I’m here to talk about,’ I said.
He pulled a face. ‘Oh dear, sounds slightly ominous.’
‘Shall we go inside?’ I asked. ‘Or do you want to finish the lawn first.’
‘No, it can wait.’
Inside the hall it was cool. A large leaded window on the landing let in the sunlight, illuminating the mock Jacobean staircase and the collection of reproduction antiques my parents had collected for their new home. Mum came down the stairs to meet me, a big smile on her face. She wore a floaty summer dress, her hair newly coloured a rich auburn.
‘Darling! What a treat,’ she said, air-kissing me on both cheeks. ‘Do come through to the conservatory. Mrs Brown had a baking session this morning so you’re in luck.’
‘I can’t stay long,’ I put in. ‘I just wanted to clear something up.’
For the first time Mum noticed Dad’s appearance. ‘Geoff! Go and change if you’re going to have tea with us. You’re absolutely filthy.’
He made his way obediently upstairs and Mum led the way through to the conservatory. ‘Do have a seat,’ she said. ‘When your father comes back I’ll go and put the kettle on.’
‘Look, Mum, I’m not stopping, so don’t bother to go to any trouble. It’s about this loan that Rex arranged with you.’
She flushed. ‘Oh. I think perhaps we should wait for your father.’
‘If you say so,’ I said impatiently. ‘He needn’t really have bothered changing.’
The conversation limped along for a few minutes, then Dad arrived looking fresher in a clean shirt and slacks.
‘Will I do?’ he asked Mum.
She shook her head. ‘Oh, Geoffrey, please! Anyone would think you were hen-pecked.’
He took a seat and they both looked at me expectantly.
‘It’s about the loan,’ I began.
‘Before you go on,’ Dad put in. ‘There is absolutely no need to pay it back until you’re completely sure you’re ready.’
‘I don’t know what Rex told you about our financial state. I had no idea he was going to ask you for a loan,’ I said. ‘He did it without consulting me. The first thing I knew about it was when the builders he’d hired began work. It was a shock. And not a pleasant one.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, why?’ Mum asked.
‘Because the whole idea was for us to stand on our own feet. We were supposed to be doing all the restoration work ourselves.’
‘But why should you when we’re happy to help? It would have taken you years to get the place as you wanted it.’
‘It was important to us – well, me – to do it ourselves,’ I said. ‘Rex is capable and qualified to do the technical stuff and I thought he agreed with me about being independent. Clearly he didn’t.’
‘I think he was finding it all a bit much with his work and everything,’ Dad said, prompting a warning look from Mum. ‘Anyway, this way it’ll be done a lot sooner than you hoped,’ he finished cheerily. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
I looked from one to the other. ‘I suppose so, in one way,’ I told them. ‘Because now as soon as it’s finished we can put the house up for sale and pay you back.’
They exchanged glances. ‘Sell your dream house! Why should you do that?’ Mum asked.
‘Because now the whole thing is ruined. I’ve finished the decoration and the builders should be through in a couple of weeks’ time. I suggest we pay you back plus the current bank interest as soon as a sale goes through.’ I stood up and picked up my bag and jacket.
Mum jumped to her feet, her cheeks flushed. ‘Why are you being like this, Sophie? All we’re trying to do is help you. That’s what families do, isn’t it?’
‘Normal families, yes,’ I said. ‘But we’ve never been a normal family, have we? Your way of solving every problem is to throw money at it. That’s how you brought me up – throw enough luxuries at her and she can’t complain that we’re never there for her. That was your maxim. Well I’m afraid it doesn’t work any more. You’ll get your money back with interest if we have to live in cardboard boxes to do it.’ I headed for the door. ‘That’s all I wanted to say so I’ll go now. Goodbye.’
Mum followed me to through to the hall, her high heels clacking on the polished floor. ‘Really, Sophie, you’re behaving like a spoilt child,’ she said. ‘You were brought up with the best that money could buy. You wanted for nothing, yet now you’re treating your father and me as if we neglected you.’
At the front door I turned to her. ‘There’s more than one way to neglect a child. Where was the love, the bedtime stories, the hugs and trips to the park that all the other kids took for granted?’
‘We were building a business,’ she argued. ‘To make a good future, a good life.’
‘All I wanted was a warm and loving relationship with my mum and dad!’ There was a huge lump in my throat now and I felt the tears welling up. ‘The things I saw other children getting as a matter of course. That’s all I wanted.’
‘You think we didn’t want that too?’ Her face was drained of colour now. She looked pinched and drawn, older than her age. ‘You’re right of course. We never did have any time to spare. But we could have taken the easy way out and sent you to boarding school. Have you ever asked yourself why we didn’t?’
‘I don’t know. Guilt, perhaps? Why don’t you just admit that having me was a disaster – one big mistake?’
‘That’s not true, Sophie. We’d have liked more children, but the business took off. Do you think we don’t regret those years when we were too busy, too exhausted every night after work to enjoy our own child. Do you think we don’t yearn for the years we can never get back? That’s why we jumped at this chance to make it up to you in some small way now.’
I took a step backwards. ‘I – I’ve got to go.’
She took a step towards me. ‘Sophie! Don’t go like this. Why are you so bitter? It can’t have been so very terrible.’ She shook her head. ‘Sometimes I feel I don’t know you any more.’
I turned in the act of opening the car door. ‘That’s just it,’ I told her. ‘You don’t. You never even bothered to try.’ I got into the car and began to reverse out of the drive. When I looked she was still standing there on the drive. She seemed to have shrunk, the fake auburn hair looked garish in the afternoon sunlight, a contrast to her white face. I swallowed hard and drove away.
When I got home Rex came to meet me in the hall.
‘Why did you do it?’ he demanded. ‘Why did you have to be so bloody cruel?’
I pushed past him. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Your mother rang me,’ he went on. ‘After you’d left. She was absolutely distraught.’
‘I might have known she’d go bleating to you the minute I’d left.’
‘And well she might. It seems you chucked their money back in their faces.’
I laughed. ‘If only I had any to chuck! I did tell them they’d get it all back, with interest, as soon as we could sell the house.’
He shook his head. ‘Sometimes I wonder about you, Sophie,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t hurt my folks the way you’ve hurt yours this afternoon. All I can say is, I hope it’s made you happy.’
I turned halfway up the stairs. ‘If you hadn’t gone crawling to them with your begging bowl this would never have happened,’ I told him. ‘You knew I wanted Greenings to be our project. And before you say anything, yes, I know you were finding it hard but you didn’t even discuss it with me. You just jumped in with both feet. Well now we’re going to have to sell the house because of what you did. And don’t pretend you’re not relieved,’ I added as a parting shot.
The following day, in a defiant mood I drove into Leicester to hit the shops. If I was going to change my image I had to do it before the new term began. First I went to the hairdresser’s where I’d already made an appointment for a cut and blow-dry. The girl slipped the protective cape round my shoulders and looked at me through the mirror, picking up a strand of my waist-length hair.
‘Have you thought this through?’ she asked. ‘Do you really want it all off?’
I nodded. ‘It’s ridiculous at my age, hair this long. I’d like a short, simple, easy to manage style.’ I smiled at her. ‘And don’t worry. I’m not going to burst into tears at the first snip.’
When she’d finished I looked into the mirror and could hardly believe my eyes. I’d completely forgotten that my hair had a slight natural wave. Relieved of its weight it now had bounce and lift. The new style framed my face and the little half fringe flattered the shape of my eyes.
‘You won’t need any colour or highlights,’ the girl said. ‘Not many people have this lovely rich chestnut colour naturally.’ She looked at me, her head on one side. ‘If I might make a suggestion, a richer lipstick shade would look good on you.’
I bought the new lipstick, a deep coral shade, paid the bill and left the salon with a spring in my step, ready to look for a change in dress style.
I bought a stylish suit and a couple of slim skirts in a length that came just above my knees. Next I chose several pretty tops to wear with them. I bought plain court shoes to wear instead of the gypsy sandals I’d slopped around in for years and to replace the massive sack-like ethnic bag I carried around with me I picked out a smart organiser handbag. No more rummaging in the depths of that monster for keys, wallet etc. I glanced in the direction of the dresses. Something pretty and feminine for informal evening occasions perhaps? Then I totted up in my head what I had already spent and decided to leave it for the time being. I was just about to step on to the escalator on my way to the coffee shop when I spotted it. A suede jacket in a lovely caramel shade. I walked across and fingered the butter-soft skin.
‘Would you like to try it on?’ a voice at my elbow asked. ‘The colour is just right for you.’ I didn’t need asking twice.
Turning this way and that in front of the mirror I knew that the jacket might have been made for me. It could hardly have been more different from my old image but it suited me in a way I would never have thought possible. The style and colour were just right, but more than that; it summed up who I wanted to be – the new assertive, independent me. I had to have it.
On the floor below as I drank my coffee I debated with myself what to do. Should I introduce the new me gently or should I hit Rex with it right between the eyes? I made up my mind, finished my coffee and went off to the Ladies with my collection o
f bags. Luckily it was empty and I swiftly changed into one of the new skirts and tops, plus the suede jacket and shoes, pushed my old clothes into the store’s bags and went off to the car park.
When I got out of the car the builders were just packing up the van ready to leave for the day. Bob looked at me and gave a long, low whistle.
‘Wow, Mrs T. I wouldn’t have known you. You look a proper stunner.’
‘Thank you.’ I reached into the back of the car for the bag containing my old clothes and turned to see Rex standing in the doorway. The expression on his face was unreadable.
The builders’ van trundled away down the drive and I walked towards Rex. ‘I’ll put the car away in a minute,’ I said. ‘I’m dying for a cup of tea.’
He didn’t move out of the way but continued to stare at me. ‘What the hell have you done to yourself?’ His voice was rough with anger and I saw the tell-tale colour creeping up his neck.
‘Done to myself!’ I laughed. ‘Anyone would think I’d come home covered in tattoos and piercings!’
‘You might as well have.’ He moved aside and I walked past him into the hall.
‘Just what are you trying to prove, Sophie?’ he said behind me. ‘What are you trying to do – merge into the wallpaper?’
‘Thanks very much!’ I turned to him. ‘Surely even you have to admit that I’m too old for the Bohemian art student look. I’ve turned thirty. I’m a professional artist and a teacher. I need a more sophisticated look now.’
‘Is that what this is then?’ He held out his hands mockingly. ‘The new, improved, sophisticated Sophie Turner!’
‘Yes, if you like.’
‘What first attracted me to you was your individuality,’ he said, following me through to the kitchen. ‘You were a rebel. You flouted the rules. You had your own voice. To me you were someone special, Sophie.’
I rounded on him. ‘Oh for God’s sake, Rex. I’m still the same person. Just because I’ve had my hair cut and I’ve decided to dress my age, doesn’t mean I’m any different inside.’
True Colours Page 9