The Designs
Because of the run and the lengthy ablutions I arrived at the office close to midday. I was nearly knocked to the ground by Riley who rushed from her seat in reception, her feet stomp across the marble hallway to greet me when I walked in. She held me in a death grip around my waist, her head buried in my boobs. She was strong for a small person.
‘It’s great to have you back,’ she breathed.
‘It’s great to be back,’ I gasped because Riley was constricting my airways. Lowering my hands from their position of surrender I patted Riley’s head and tried to peel her off me. ‘It’s only been ten days, though, Riley.’
‘I know, I know but I missed you. There are tons of messages, but I’ll only give you today’s for now.’
I followed her back into reception and she began to reel off the morning’s messages as I undid my coat.
‘That Cassandra woman asked about the reference … again. The manufacturers want to know when they can have your completed bag designs. I want to know if I can have Friday off – that’s two days away so I hope it isn’t too short notice. And your mother called to ask if you could meet for lunch today. Did she not know you were off work? Anyway, I didn’t let on you weren’t here. I wasn’t expecting you today either. Are you sure you feel better? Can I get you anything?’
I took the list out of her hand.
‘I’m here, I’m fine, and I’ll see to this.’ I waved the list and went up to my office.
I closed the door and took a deep breath. My smile had been on the verge of cracking and I knew that without it I wouldn’t make it through the day. I sat at the desk and began to prioritize my list.
I needed to finalize my drawings, get them enlarged and copied up as soon as I could so they could go off to the team to make up the samples. They’d had Clara’s designs weeks ago and, as I’d already given the manufacturing team a deadline to have samples ready by, all they were waiting on were mine. As my Every Woman bags were going to be the headlining designs, I needed to get my skates on. The advance-viewing meeting I’d arranged with the main buyers was one month away.
Then there was Cassandra. I’d forgotten all about her, to my shame. She would have to go to the top of the list because I should have had her reference to her last week. She’d told me that the reference needed to get to the company with the application form and the deadline had been and gone. I called her to give her my deepest apologies but my call went to her voicemail. I tried to apologize in a text, asking her to ring me straight away, letting her know she could pick up the reference as soon as it was ready.
She sent me a text saying: My application is in and they will accept the reference as soon as possible. I sighed with relief when I read her text. I was off the hook, but only just.
I went into my design room to remind myself where I was at with my drawings. Sketches on A3 and A4 paper were pinned around the room like an art gallery. Some sketches lay on a desk in one corner of the room and a work in progress sat three-quarters of the way completed on my drawing table.
I walked around, taking in my work and ideas. Some were very basic; some were coloured with little notes to detail grades of leather, sizes, and fastenings. Some more intricate designs of interior and exterior detail were clipped to a large whiteboard by the window. I took them all in as I paced the room, imagining the finished items. The drawings were encouraging; many more designs than I’d remembered were complete. I could get them to the design team very quickly and that filled me with a sense of joy and a determination to get my working life back on track.
As long as I made the deadline I could then start to focus my attention on marketing. I imagined I shouldn’t have too much of a problem; I’d got a lot of experience targeting my male market so the female side shouldn’t be too much of a challenge. I’d have so much to keep me focused. There was no way I could be sad, or stay mad at Anthony.
Next was Riley wanting Friday afternoon off. That was easy – of course she could have it. As for Mother, I’d call and arrange to meet her for lunch. I was pretty sure all she wanted to do was check to make sure I wasn’t overdoing it. She’d been concerned about how bedraggled I’d looked at the family get-together. I kept my conversation with her on the phone short and sweet so she couldn’t ask awkward questions and we arranged to have lunch on Friday afternoon. I’d figure out how to act normally around her when the time came.
Once I’d sorted out the list I put my head down and worked flat out for the rest of the day.
‘Caffè macchiato,’ Riley announced at least twice that day and when it came to four o’clock and I hadn’t left the design room she came in with a much-needed tortilla wrap from Jimmy’s, which she kept warm by rushing straight back and not stopping to talk to the man himself.
‘You look as if you could do with one of these,’ she said. Her hair was up in Princess Leia buns and she was wearing bright red lipstick. ‘You’ve done so much today. You must be feeling better.’
I smiled at Riley as she left. I stopped to unwrap my late lunch: an eggs Florentine wrap. Feeling better? In some respects, perhaps. I’d done the right thing, coming back to work. I hadn’t wanted to cry all day. Keeping busy. That’s just what the doctor ordered.
I worked very late into the night, despite Riley threatening to switch off the lights at seven-thirty.
‘Well you should have gone home ages ago,’ I told her. ‘Go home and take it easy. This is the calm before the storm. The real work starts when the team get the drawings. Our feet won’t touch the ground.’
Riley looked down at her red Doctor Marten boots with tiny white swirls painted on the heels. Reluctantly she bade me goodnight and promised to be in really early the next day.
We were both in at eight the following morning.
By the end of the following day the designs were complete and Cassandra’s reference was ready to be collected. I’d done it. On Friday morning I breathed a long and loud sigh of relief.
‘Okay, Riley, Cassandra will be here later this morning to collect her reference. Enjoy your half-day and don’t forget to get my designs out for me. The team want them by this afternoon so if that means leaving earlier to drop them off then that’s fine.’
‘Leave it with me, Magenta. I won’t let you down.’
I noticed that Riley’s usual, second-hand skirts and sweaters had been replaced by an electric blue, second-hand Fifties’ dress with a full skirt and petticoat. She wore a cute little black cardigan from the era on top plus stiletto heels and black stockings. She’d back-combed her auburn hair and scooped it into a beehive style. A fluffy, black Fifties’ jacket was hooked on the door in reception.
‘That dress sets off your eyes beautifully, Riley,’ I said to her. ‘You didn’t say what you were doing on your afternoon off. Anything special?’
‘It’s Jimmy.’ She beamed. ‘He finally asked me out. It happened last week, while you were away. Just asked me out of the blue if I was free to go out sometime. Turns out he’s a big fan of film noir, too, and we’re going to a double bill matinee of The Big Heat and Kiss Me Deadly. Then we’re going out for dinner.’
‘Riley, that’s brilliant. And about time, too. I’m surprised you waited this long to tell me. I hope you’re going to a Fifties’ style diner to round it off. Is Jimmy coming as Humphrey Bogart?’
She looked down at her dress and giggled. ‘We’ll see. I just think it’s great that we’re both into nostalgia.’ Her large eyes trailed upwards and I knew I’d lost her for a few moments. She was in a Riley daydream and I was sure it was a good one. I held her shoulders to try to shake her out of it.
‘I’m just glad one of you finally made the move,’ I said. ‘Have a great time.’
A little later I heard Riley leave. I didn’t hear her call out although she must have done. Cassandra hadn’t picked up her reference yet. She’d sent a text to say she was running late and I’d replied saying that I wouldn’t be around but she was welcome to pop in and collect the reference, which I’d leave in an envelope in an obvious place in reception. You’ll have to buzz up to someone in the main office to be let in, I told her in my last text. She confirmed she would. I then got ready to have lunch with Mother.
When I walked into the restaurant, Mother was already there. I kissed her cheek. She pounced before I could sit down and pick up the menu.
‘Magenta, is everything all right? I’m still concerned that you look a bit, well, tired.’
‘No, I’m fine, Mother.’ I put the menu in front of my face.
‘Are you sure?’ Mother pulled the menu down. ‘You’re not overdoing it are you?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Menu back in front of the face.
‘Maybe you’re anaemic.’ Mother pushed the menu aside and put the back of her hand on my forehead.
‘Having a temperature and being anaemic are two different things,’ I said, moving my head away. ‘Let’s just order.’
Why Mother thought she knew how to cure anaemia or anything else that might be physically wrong with me, I had no idea. Mother had never been good at treating any of our ailments when we were younger. She was always clueless. She brought us to see specialists if we had the common cold.
‘Are you sure you haven’t taken on too much?’ Mother went on. ‘This rebranding – it’s a big step.’
‘I need to keep working,’ I said. ‘Keeping busy is good.’
‘Yes but there was a time when keeping busy for you meant spending three days shopping in Paris and then a weekend of knocking back gallons of whisky with Anya on a ship off the coast of Nice.’
‘Not any more. Shall we order?’
I was still avoiding talking about the miscarriage to anyone and the longer I didn’t the harder it was to bring it up. Anthony and I hadn’t talked about it again. It was the conversation that ended in fury, tears, or sad silences. So we avoided the subject.
I was enjoying a long lunch break with Mother, knowing full well that I’d be at the office until late, talking to marketing consultants about the rebranding, but I kept that to myself in case Mother accused me of overdoing it again. Instead, we talked weddings. I told Mother I would probably finish her dress at the start of the new year. I’d have lots of time to do all the finishing touches in between fittings and well before the big day.
We needed to decide on her hair. Would she be wearing anything in it? By constantly bombarding her with questions about the wedding I managed to steer Mother away from the subject of my health.
Later, while we were having coffee, my phone rang. It was Riley and she was in a state of panic.
‘Calm down, Riley; I can’t understand what you’re saying.’
‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ve turned the place upside down and they’re just not here.’
‘Look, Riley, take a deep breath and run that by me again.’ I went out onto the street because I was having to raise my voice in the restaurant. I stood shivering from the December cold, trying to make sense of it all.
‘Oh, Magenta,’ Riley exclaimed and began to wail.
‘Riley,’ I said, loudly with a snap to my voice. It was loud enough to stop her crying. She sniffed and the wailing stopped. ‘What did Jimmy do to you?’ I demanded.
‘N-nothing. He’s here with me.’
‘Where are you, exactly?’ I was hugging myself with one arm, bits of me freezing as I jiggled around to stay warm.
In the background I could hear Jimmy telling Riley to start again.
‘I was at the cinema,’ she said, slowly. ‘I suddenly remembered the drawings. Your drawings, the ones I was supposed to have delivered for you. But I sort of forgot to grab them. I came flying back when I remembered. You’d gone … I even went up to check your office. They weren’t there, either.’
‘So, you didn’t deliver the drawings?’ I asked her.
‘Not only that, they’re not here so I couldn’t deliver them now even if I wanted to.’ She sniffed.
‘Don’t cry, Riley. There’s still time to get them off.’ Mother came out carrying my bag and coat, which she put around my shoulders. ‘I’ll be back in the office in no time. They must have fallen behind something. It’s not the end of the world, Riley. I’ll courier them over. That’s what I should have done in the first place.’
Mother came back to the office with me and after a good search by all four of us the drawings were well and truly and completely gone.
‘Wait,’ I said. It suddenly hit me. ‘Something else isn’t here. Cassandra’s reference. She’s been here.’ I turned to Mother. ‘Do you think she took the designs?’
‘Call her,’ Mother said. ‘She’d be mad if she thought she could get away with it.’
‘What if she denies taking them, then what do I say?’
‘She wouldn’t have the nerve. Not after what she did. We all know what she’s capable of but to show up and try to pull something like this …’
I tried in vain to get a response from Cassandra’s mobile. Of course, I had no idea where she was living. She hadn’t given her address so I couldn’t go and give her a good piece of my mind. How could I have thought she’d changed? Annie from the finance department had simply let Cassandra in and left her to it. Cassandra, being Cassandra, must have seen an opportunity to spoil things for me and took the designs. I wished I hadn’t mentioned them to her. What an idiot.
I was fuming when all of a sudden my phone rang while still in my hand and made me jump.
‘Oh, Anthony, it’s you,’ I replied with a sigh.
‘Don’t sound so pleased to hear from me.’
‘I’m sorry. Big problems but, go on, tell me why you called.’ I was being brusque. I bit my lip as he spoke.
‘Um, I just wanted to ask you out on a date. Friday night, you know? I wondered if I could take you out for dinner. I could book somewhere.’
‘I can’t even think about dinner, Anthony. I can’t think about anything until I sort out what that spiteful witch has done with my drawings. I dread to think.’
‘Sounds like I called at a bad time? What happened?’
All I could do was rant and rave about Cassandra’s dirty tricks. Anthony’s beautiful gesture to take me on a date fell by the wayside.
‘Well you could ruin things for her you know?’ Anthony said when I’d finished my outburst.
‘Oh? How?’
‘Well didn’t you just write her a glowing reference even though there was very little about her that actually glowed?’
‘True.’ I drew out the word.
‘So why not give the company a call?’
‘I couldn’t do anything so underhand … could I?’
‘It’s up to you. I mean you don’t know what she could be doing with your designs. You worked hard on those.’
‘Oh, but I’ve got copies,’ I said, slapping my hand to my forehead. In the panic I almost forgot about those. ‘They’re not to scale but I could run and have them enlarged and sent off again.’
‘Well, okay then. Problem solved. Now where are we going to have dinner?’ asked Anthony.
Even though I agreed to the date with Anthony I was just so hell-bent on getting the drawings out that I really wasn’t in the mood.
I sent a crying Riley off to enjoy the rest of her day and Mother stayed to help me deal with the crisis. In a few hours I was able to courier the designs to the team.
When Mother left I put in a call to Launchester. It was late and the phone rang and rang. Everyone from Shearman had gone home. I sat in my office on the line to Launchester while at the same time hearing the phone down in reception ringing away, too. I let it go to voicemail. The call to Launchester couldn’t wait. Finally, someone picked up, just as I was about to chicken out. I took a deep breath and I advised them that although I’d given Cassandra a good reference they ought to be aware of a few of her shortcomings.
‘Such as?’ the Human Resources person I’d been put through to asked.
‘Well sometimes she can be a bit deceitful – but I don’t like to tell tales. I just wanted you to know.’ I sounded like an idiot and the call invalidated anything my reference said.
‘We interviewed your referee today,’ they told me. ‘So I’ll definitely flag this up.’
I hung up the phone, a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Anthony and I met in town at a Thai restaurant halfway between my office and the art gallery later that evening. The whole time we were there I talked about what a bitch Cassandra was and totally killed the atmosphere – I realized in retrospect – Anthony was trying to create. For me, relating the diatribe I hoped to have with Cassandra was not only cathartic, it also meant not having to talk about the obvious – the reason for needing to have a romantic evening in the first place.
I was still keeping up the brave face on that delicate subject though inside I struggled to keep a lid on my emotions.
Just after Anthony got the bill my phone rang. It was Cassandra. I swallowed hard.
‘You’ve been trying to get hold of me?’ she said. ‘About the drawings?’
‘That’s right. Did you see them when you came in?’
‘I certainly did,’ she said, not at all perturbed. ‘And I also saw the Post-it note your secretary put on them, reminding her they needed to be dropped off on her way to the station. You weren’t around so I went into secretary mode and dropped them off for you.’
I clamped my jaw shut. I had been on the verge of launching into my sermon on the mount about the penalties for taking something that didn’t belong to you. All afternoon and all of that evening I had been cursing Cassandra for doing the dirty and stealing my designs and all this time she’d done me a good turn.
‘Cassandra … I-I don’t know what to say.’
‘A “thank you” would be nice,’ she said. ‘I should have left you a note but my interview was that afternoon. I wasn’t expecting them to call me in so soon. I’d sent the application in to them without the reference. You know, because you were late getting it to me. But don’t worry; I heard you weren’t well. So, it turned out they wanted to see me anyway and I was able to bring the reference to the interview. So, all’s well that ends well, hey? Hopefully I’m closer to snagging a great job and getting off my sister’s sofa once and for all.’
‘Um, yes, I-I’m sure you’ve nailed it. Go you!’ I said and fist-pumped the air with a limp fist. Anthony looked at me quizzically.
‘It’s late,’ she said, ‘and sorry, my phone has been off since the interview. I only just noticed the calls. Anyway, must dash. Bye, Magenta, and thank you once again.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ I turned to Anthony.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Cassandra did take the designs, but … she delivered them to the manufacturing team for me. She didn’t steal them.’ I covered my face with my hands. ‘What the hell have I done?’