The Sisters

by Kate Forster

  ‘In keeping with this thought we have decided to bring back the bestselling items for Pajaro over the last twenty years. The T-shirts, the shirt dresses, pants and accessories that have been tweaked slightly for today’s trends but also are one-time only classics. Retro Pajaro for the current times.

  ‘This will save us on design time, fabric choices and the like. It may seem lazy, but we can only do what we can with the time we have. I personally love it. How many times do you find a great piece, wear it to death and then you can’t replace it?’ she asked the room.

  She saw many of the women nod at each other in agreement, and was boosted by the energy in the room that shifted as she spoke.

  ‘I like the idea of a celebrity and in particular Calypso Gable. If you can get her, you have my support,’ she said, smiling at her sister.

  Carlotta beamed at them both from the back of the room. She tried to catch Chris’s eye but he ignored her. He hadn’t spoken to her since their run at in at the riding centre. She had tried a few times to speak to him but he brushed her off and Carlotta was too embarrassed to confront him again, unsure of what to say and how to behave towards him.

  She hadn’t spoken to John either and he hadn’t contacted her. The horse show seemed so far away now and she figured she would have to shelve it till after she sorted out her priorities at Pajaro.

  Carlotta focused her attention back onto Grace who was speaking again. ‘In keeping with the design team’s ideas for the next season, we have to come up with concepts that show off our celebrity and bring some personality and style to Pajaro. This also goes for in-store, Carlotta. I believe you have a few things to say here.’

  Carlotta walked to stand next to her sisters.

  ‘The stores are tired and the staff are angry. I have visited the stores in New York and they aren’t nice to shop in. I am working with retailing to bring them up to the level they need to be to make people want to come back through our doors,’ she said, looking at Chris who was staring at her expressionless.

  Carlotta felt nervous as she spoke, and her voice cracked slightly.

  ‘This is not the company my mother envisioned when she started Pajaro. As you all know by now, my mother is unwell and still in hospital. I wish she were here to help us. I don’t know a kinder, more elegant woman. She would know you all by name by now, and your kids’ names. This is the woman that I certainly want to be and the energy I want to bring back into Pajaro. Friendly, classy without being arrogant, and fun. My mother is so much fun, she could make the most tedious task an adventure and this is our adventure. I know that many of you believe that we,’ she gestured to her sisters, ‘are just playing at having jobs. But this means everything to us and we need help from you to become the women we want to be and to recreate the Pajaro magic in line with what our mother wanted. I hope you will support us on this journey.’

  The room burst into applause. She looked up. Chris had left the room and her heart sank. What she had said was as much for the staff’s benefit as for Chris’s but it seemed he didn’t want to listen to what she had to say.

  Grace took over again. ‘Violetta will get back to designs and Carlotta is working on the stores themselves. We have our work cut out for us here, so let’s start right away.’

  The room broke up into a loud murmur of excitement.

  The sisters looked at each other. ‘Well played,’ said Carlotta.

  ‘You too,’ said Violetta to both of them.

  ‘Get out, I have work to do,’ laughed Grace.

  And they all laughed as they went their separate ways.

  Grace walked into her office and shut the door. Picking up her cell phone, she pressed redial.

  ‘Frank? I did it!’ she exclaimed.

  *

  Violetta went back to her office. It was hive of activity and the TV crew was waiting for her.

  ‘How did it go?’ asked Lesley with the cameras rolling.

  ‘Great.’ Violetta sat at her desk. ‘Everyone is very excited and we have a great new direction for Pajaro. Just stay tuned.’ She winked at the camera and turned her attention to her computer.

  Lesley signalled to the camera to stop rolling. ‘Violetta, can I be honest with you?’

  Violetta looked up. ‘Sure.’

  ‘This is boring TV. You going to work, you sitting at your computer.’

  Violetta shrugged. ‘This is my life now. It is boring to some and stressful to me. I am trying to manage a new job, a mother in hospital and the fact that everywhere I turn you guys are there.’

  Lesley smiled. ‘I get it, but I don’t think that Adam will.’

  ‘Too bad. Now, you can either film me answering emails or you can go and shoot someone else. I am sure Maisie or CeCe are having a wax right now and would be more than happy to accommodate you.’

  Violetta saw the cameraman trying not to laugh and she turned back to the screen.

  Lesley shook her head. ‘I don’t want to be the enemy here but you did sign up for this show,’ she said, frustrated.

  ‘I know I did, but then things changed and I can’t get out of it,’ Violetta said honestly. She liked Lesley, she was just doing her job. It was just her boss Adam who was the prick. ‘I am trying to save my family’s business, help my mother who is still in a coma, and try to get some form of a life that doesn’t require me to hold a champagne glass for the rest of my days. If that is boring to you then so be it,’ she added passionately.

  Lesley was silent, thinking. ‘OK, then that’s what we shoot.’

  ‘What?’ asked Violetta.

  ‘Your life. Maisie and CeCe and Sabrina are living the life of the socialites that people expect but why can’t you show audiences another side?’ Lesley was thinking aloud. ‘I’m sure that people don’t expect you to be like you are and I think people should see the real Violetta. You are interesting and you are trying to change, I see that. Maybe show people that your life is just as tough as anyone else’s, just with more money.’

  Violetta laughed. ‘Money just gives you more choices, it doesn’t wake up your mother from a deep coma or bring back your father who has fled the country, or find you real love.’

  ‘Then that’s what I want to show! Keep it real,’ Lesley said excitedly.

  ‘Well, you show what you want. I’m just going to keep it real, as you say, and if I get kicked off the show then good,’ she said, leaning back in her chair.

  Lesley laughed. ‘OK, give me a few hours and I’ll be back. I want to work out exactly how I am going to do this.’

  Violetta waved her away with her hand. She went online and logged into the dating site. Fourteen emails, it told her. As she scrolled down she saw nothing she recognised, and then her heart skipped a beat. An email from Jeff. She opened it and her mouth felt dry.

  Dear Violet,

  I feel like I am in a romantic comedy, or a drama. I’m not sure. I think of you all the time. You have undone me.

  Jeff

  Violetta felt a smile form as she typed.

  Perhaps our story has just started, and we don’t know how it will end yet. Hopefully in a happy ever after montage? I would like to undo you again, but you are a stickler for rules, which is also very sexy.

  Violet

  And email pinged back.

  Noted: rules, undoing’s and happy montages. Stay tuned. Let me work on it.

  J

  Violetta smiled as she closed her email. He was the best thing about her day, during the worst time of her life, and she wondered how she could reconcile the two being so intertwined.

  *

  Grace left the office at lunchtime and walked towards the nearest deli. Frank said he would meet her there after her phone call to him. Lunch was on him, he said, and Grace tried not to laugh. He could barely afford a pretzel, she thought, but she refused to burst his bubble, he was so thrilled for her.

  As she approached the deli she saw Frank sitting inside, reading the Wall Street Times. Bless him, she thought, he is trying to impress he
r.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, and slid into the booth sitting opposite him.

  ‘Hi yourself,’ he said, tucking the paper into his bag quickly. ‘So tell me all.’

  ‘It went really well, everyone was excited, people clapped,’ she said, beaming.

  ‘Wow!’ said Frank, seemingly genuinely pleased for her.

  ‘Well, they clapped my sister but it was enough anyway.’

  ‘You work with your sister?’ he asked.

  ‘I work with both of my sisters,’ said Grace, regretting the slip. She didn’t want him to know about her life yet.

  ‘What’s that like?’ he asked as he opened the menu.

  ‘Um… OK. Better recently. What’s good?’ she asked, suddenly hungry.

  ‘Everything,’ he answered.

  The waiter came over. ‘Hey Frank, how’s things?’

  ‘Good, Rocco. This is Grace.’

  Rocco smiled. ‘Hey Grace, how you doing?’

  Grace smiled. ‘I’m fine thanks, Rocco. What do you suggest for lunch?’

  Rocco looked her over. ‘You too thin, mac and cheese or the turkey on rye with a side of fries.’

  Grace laughed. ‘I’ll take the turkey on rye with fries, thanks. And a chocolate milkshake also.’

  ‘Done. And you, sir?’

  ‘I’ll have the same. Except make my milkshake strawberry.’

  As Rocco walked away Grace made a face at Frank. ‘Strawberry? Lame!’

  ‘Oh really, Miss Chocolate, thanks for the encouragement.’

  She shrugged, enjoying herself with Frank. He was so easy to be with and she felt like she could be herself.

  ‘So what next now you have done your big presentation?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, now the real work is cut out for me,’ Grace said, slumping in the booth. ‘I have to lure a celebrity to be the face of my next ad campaign.’

  ‘Fashion, yeah?’ asked Frank, as he moved the milkshakes that Rocco placed on the table in front of them.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Grace, realising she hadn’t even told him where she worked.

  ‘I know a few celebrities,’ said Frank. ‘Who do you need to speak to?’

  Grace laughed. ‘Oh right, sure you do. Can you give me Calypso Gable’s number?’ She sipped her cold shake and made a face. ‘Brain freeze. Oww.’

  ‘Put your tongue on the roof of your mouth,’ he said.

  Grace did and began to feel the ache ebb away. ‘Thanks, how did you know that?’

  ‘Oh, I know all sorts of things. I am Mr Mysterious.’

  ‘Naturally, the caped crusader against brain freezes on a bicycle,’ she teased. Was she flirting? A little, she thought.

  ‘Mwahhh,’ said Frank imitating an evil laugh, as they started to eat their sandwiches.

  ‘Where do you work again? I can’t remember, sorry,’ he asked as he salted the fries.

  ‘I don’t think I told you,’ she said, her mouth full. Birdie would have been horrified, she thought.

  ‘You didn’t? We haven’t really talked about work much.’

  Grace said nothing. She had tried to not mention her work when he was clearly out of a job.

  ‘I work at Pajaro.’

  ‘Ah yes, I’ve seen those stores,’ he said, as he dipped his fries into his shake.

  ‘OK, that is disgusting,’ she said as she watched.

  ‘Try it before you knock it, lady.’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  ‘So fashion, huh? How’s that working out for you?’

  ‘Hopefully better once I get onto Calypso Gable’s reps.’

  ‘Don’t go through the reps, they take too long. Go straight to her.’

  ‘It doesn’t work like that, Frank,’ she told him. ‘She would have all sorts of minders, agents, managers and the like.’

  Frank made a face. ‘Maybe, but you should speak to her direct.’

  Grace laughed. ‘OK, but I don’t think she’s in the directory.’ She decided to change the subject. ‘What did you do before you were laid off?’ she asked.

  ‘Laid off?’ asked Frank curiously.

  ‘Well, you aren’t working at the moment, I thought that perhaps you were looking for a job,’ she said, embarrassed.

  Frank took a moment and then nodded. ‘Yes, um… well… I was in the dot com area but then you know…’ he trailed off.

  Grace nodded sympathetically. ‘Yes, it’s hard in these times. I’m sure it will pick up again. Do you get much courier work?’

  ‘Courier?’

  ‘On your bike?’

  ‘Ah yes, my bike. I do a little bit when I can,’ he said vaguely.

  Grace felt terrible for pushing him. ‘I’m sorry, it’s none of my business what you do and when you do it. Please forgive me,’ she said, looking down at the worn table.

  Frank smiled. ‘I will only forgive you if you do one thing for me.’

  What?’ asked Grace nervously.

  ‘Dip your fry into your shake,’ he dared.

  Grace made a face and did as he asked. It was surprisingly good.

  ‘It’s OK.’

  Frank laughed. ‘See, things are never just what they seem. Fries and a shake, you wouldn’t think they would work but they do.’

  Frank walked Grace back to Pajaro, wheeling his bike next to him. They stopped outside the office.

  ‘Thanks for lunch,’ she said shyly.

  ‘Thanks for meeting me.’

  They stood facing each other and Grace felt butterflies in her stomach. Frank leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  ‘Is that all?’ she dared him, half jokingly.

  And with that he pulled her into his arms, dipped her and kissed her passionately in front of everyone on the street.

  Grace came up for breath and stood stunned. ‘Wow!’

  ‘That’s what all the girls say,’ Frank said, and he then hopped on his bike and rode away.

  Grace shook her head to try to gather her thoughts as she went inside Pajaro. Frank was crazy but he was a hell of a kisser, she thought as she went up to her office.

  She sat at her desk and looked at the long list of things to do and she sighed, just as her phone rang.

  ‘Grace speaking.’

  ‘Grace? Hi. A mutual friend of ours, Frank, rang me and told me you needed to speak to me urgently.’

  ‘Who is this?’ asked Grace suspiciously.

  ‘Calypso, Calypso Gable.’

  Grace dropped the phone.

  13

  Birdie, Atlanta – 1984

  Birdie was alone when Leon came to Spencer’s home. As soon as she heard the knock at the large front doors, she knew her husband was back and the thrill of the fantasy that she had been in burst.

  ‘Birdie, it is time you came home,’ said Leon, standing at the front door, formal in his dark suit.

  ‘I don’t think there will be room with your mistress and your child,’ said Birdie coolly.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Birdie. You married me and that is all there is to it,’ said Leon, ignoring her barb.

  Birdie stood at the front door, desperate for Spencer to come back but knowing he was at work, far away from her.

  ‘So you don’t deny it?’ she asked, her hand on the door.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ said Leon. ‘A man has needs and Melanie met mine.’

  Birdie wanted to slam the door in his face but instead she stood her ground.

  ‘Leon, there is no marriage if you are cheating on me. Spencer will start divorce proceedings as soon as I ask.’

  Leon smiled at her. ‘I don’t think so, Birdie.’

  ‘I think so,’ she said, moving to shut the door.

  But Leon put his foot in the way. ‘Birdie, you will listen to me,’ he said, pushing his way inside. He looked around the foyer of the ramshackle house that Spencer wanted to turn into a home for him and Birdie. The Blanchard money was in property but not in cash and it would take years to return it to its former glory.

  ‘What a dump,’ said Leon spit
efully.

  Birdie ignored him. ‘Just go, Leon,’ she said tiredly.

  ‘No, I won’t go until you come with me. You made an agreement with me and you have to protect your family’s name,’ he said casually.

  ‘My family doesn’t care about a divorce, they will want me to be happy,’ said Birdie, thinking of her beloved parents, Susie and William. Of course they would want her to be happy. She had the feeling that they never really liked Leon. Pushy, was what she had heard her mother call Leon when she didn’t know Birdie was outside the room.

  ‘I’m not talking about that,’ said Leon. ‘I mean about your father and him fucking other men.’ He turned as he said this and leaned very close to Birdie. ‘You think I don’t know? Of course I knew. I did my research. Did you think I would marry without knowing where you were from?’ he asked. ‘So you come home and we start again, OK?’

  Birdie felt her knees weaken and she sat on the foot of the stairs. William and Susie had a long marriage. It was built on friendship, they’d been betrothed at the cradle by their families. There was a marriage of family names and money and together they’d had two children, Birdie and William Junior, who was five years younger than Birdie.

  ‘I don’t know what you are talking about, Leon, and I think you should leave before you insult my family any further,’ she said in shock.

  ‘No, no, Birdie. You don’t understand. I have men, boys who will come forward to tell how your father likes his cock sucked,’ said Leon, standing over her, his hands in his pockets.

  ‘Stop it,’ cried Birdie.

  ‘I will stop when you come home,’ said Leon simply. ‘If you stay here then I will ruin your family’s name, your father’s business and your parents’ sham of a marriage,’ he said in his lilting accent that Birdie had once found so appealing.

  Birdie swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat. Her father was her idol in so many ways: the witty patriarch, a connoisseur of taste, her benchmark for living. His elegance and easiness summed up the South for her and she had been his beloved Birdie, his name for her when she was born so tiny and helpless. ‘Always with your little beak open crying for more,’ he used to say to her.

  Birdie felt betrayed now by Leon and her father, but somewhere in her she knew what Leon was saying was true. She remembered the arguments between her parents, until Susie had eased into acceptance for her and her children’s sakes. The younger, pretty lawyers her father had mentored over the years. The long business trips, the late nights out at the office. Hushed phone calls in the study. Birdie had pushed these memories away, instead focusing on the pleasantries of her childhood.