The Dress (22 page)

‘Don't move,' she said to Joy.

‘Don't worry. I am too terrified to move an inch. Are you sure nobody comes through here?'

Honor arranged Joy's train around her on the ground, then stepped back to adjust her camera, which she had set up on a tripod.

Dappled sunlight was glinting through the trees and illuminating the dress. Joy's carefully made-up face looked haughty, but her eyes were burning with a kind of tearful, feminine fragility. Honor saw that the fairy tale images she had embroidered on the train – the unicorn, the twisted roses, Rapunzel in her tower – all seemed to be coming to life, shimmering and dancing so vibrantly that Honor thought they would dance off the dress altogether and go skipping though the bluebell wood. The dress seemed to have, literally, come alive.

‘My God,' she said.

‘What?' Joy asked. ‘What is it? Is there someone coming?'

‘No, it's nothing,' Honor said. ‘You just look beautiful, that's all.' The spell was broken, the dress had stopped dancing and Honor took her pictures.

On their way back into the city, Joy chatted, elated from her modelling adventure.

‘You know it's a public wood?' Honor told her. ‘People could have walked by at any moment.'

Joy gasped, but Honor could tell she was more thrilled than shocked.

‘Now all we have to do is find you something decent to wear to the party.'

‘Me?' Honor said. She honestly had not thought further than completing the dress.

Joy looked aghast. ‘Of course, you'll be the guest of honour, darling. You'll be sitting with me and Frank. The ladies of New York will be enthralled by you; you'll be beating them off for commissions, although we'll have to find you a proper studio first...'

As Joy babbled, Honor looked out the window to hide the look of fear that she knew had swept across her face. She had been counting on never seeing Frank Fitzpatrick again. More frightening, still, was that in some small part of her, Honor Conlon wanted nothing more.

Miami, 2014

The rest of Lily's week in Miami passed in a flutter of photography and pools, make-up and meals and lots of drinking cocktails late into the night.

Lily had been reluctant to leave The Dress behind but after a few days away she found she felt more alive, more creative, more connected than she had done in a long time. She was going home fresher and full of new ideas that would make her even more determined to see her dream through.

Lily loved being part of Sally's team. Justine and Sharon were great but the real surprise was Jack, who had stuck around for the full week, checking over and approving their pictures every afternoon, then entertaining them in the evenings with dinner and cocktails. It was clear to Lily that Jack Scott lived like this all the time, eating and sleeping in expensive hotels, in beautiful places and, undoubtedly, in the company of various interesting and/or beautiful women. Lily had always ridiculed and dismissed the playboy lifestyle but after a few days in the Raleigh, she had come around to thinking that, actually, this was not a bad way to live after all.

The one fly in the ointment was Sally. Lily was increasingly sure that Jack was a deeper and more considerate person than she had given him credit for. But Sally would have none of it and what is more, she strongly objected to Jack's encouragement of Lily's obsession with The Dress.

‘I don't think Lily should be wasting her energy in remaking some dead woman's dress,' she said. ‘I think she should concentrate on her own designs.'

‘I'm not simply “remaking” a dress,' Lily argued. ‘I am bringing a designer's legacy back to life. Besides, it's personal.' And, full of wine, she told them all about Joe and how Joy was married to the great-uncle they never knew.

‘So you are trying to make your own history, as well as fashion history?' Jack said.

Lily blushed. ‘Well, my own history maybe, but fashion history... might be a bit ambitious.'

‘Might not,' he said, raising his glass.

Sally raised her eyebrows and muttered, ‘Get a room.'

On their last night in Miami, Jack invited Lily to hold back after the others had gone to bed. Sally gave her a warning look, but Lily knew better. She actually now trusted the guy. Jack had not only encouraged her to talk about Joy's dress and all that would be involved in making it, he had also looked up her blog pages and read her article. She even showed him her notebook, with all her sketches and notes in it, and he seemed genuinely impressed.

‘You must really believe in this dress,' he said, ‘to want to replicate it. It sure will take a lot of work though, a lot of money too.'

Lily nodded and smiled. She didn't tell him that there was no way she could ever afford to make it. Desperate as she was, there was no way she would have Jack Scott think she was scrounging for money.

*

The journey home seemed longer and was more muted than the journey out because their adventure was ending rather than beginning. Lily had barely slept the night before, having stayed up late with Jack. Sally tried to give her a sleeping tablet on the plane but she refused, so that when Lily arrived back at her flat, late that afternoon, she was so miserable with jetlag that she simply crawled into bed and pulled the duvet up over her head.

She was woken up very early the next morning by her home phone.

‘Hullo? Is that Lily Fitzpatrick? The blogger?'

The voice was clipped and business-like.

‘Yes.'

‘Good, hi, this is Karina Match from the
Fashion Daily
website. I am calling to ask if you can give me a quote about The Dress for today's edition?'

‘Sorry?'

‘Hashtag The Dress? The tweet you put up last night challenging PopShop to a frock-off?'

‘I'm sorry,' Lily said, ‘I have no idea what you are talking about...'

‘Oh God, it's gone
viral
darling. Jack Scott has challenged Dave Durane of PopShop to create the most beautiful dress ever made, and you're the one making it!'

What the hell was going on?

‘I'll call you back,' Lily said.

‘Well, make sure you do because we've got readers online
right now
waiting to hear what you've got to say – remember we rang you first...'

As soon as she hung up the phone rang again immediately.

‘Hullo, Lily Fitzpatrick? This is Radio 5. I was wondering if you'd be free to talk to Mike in about half an hour about The Dress?'

‘Sorry, she's not here,' Lily said and hung up.

She left the house phone off the hook and reached for her iPhone. It was on silent with three dozen missed calls. It was currently buzzing with a new one, from Jack.

‘What the hell is
happening
?' she said.

‘Only the best publicity stunt ever,' he said. ‘I was so impressed with all you were saying about vintage stuff, I retweeted you last night and challenged that prick Durane to a frock-off...'

Her heart was thumping. He had deceived her. Broken her confidence. Taken the private dreams she had to make this dress and made them very, very public. How dare he?! Was he mad?

Lily struggled to keep her cool, to keep her voice light. She still hadn't been paid for the Miami shoot and wasn't about to put the little income she was owed in jeopardy by annoying him. Too much, anyway.

‘Well, I'm not making The Dress.'

‘Of course you are. It's all you want to do. You have passion, Lily.'

‘I can't afford it.'

‘Lucky for you we pay for passion like yours,' he said.

‘It's a
lot
of money,' she said.

‘The way you were talking, I reckon about a hundred should cover it?'

Lily barely had her derisive laugh out before he added, ‘Thousand, of course. What do you say? The Most Beautiful Dress ever made – you have complete creative control. You make it, I pay for it.'

Lily could barely believe her ears. Carte blanche and an unlimited budget? She would be mad to turn it down. She would also be mad to do it. She could fail in front of the whole fashion industry.

‘Could you not just have challenged Durane to a duel or something?'

‘Well, I do despise the guy but not enough to do jail-time for him.' Jack paused. ‘Are you in on this Lily? No obligation. I'm serious, are you going to help me?'

‘Let's meet and talk it through?' She made it sound casual but the adrenaline was pumping through her. Lily didn't know if she was terrified or thrilled.

They met in The Black Lion pub on Kilburn High Road. Lily was surprised Jack even knew where it was and that he offered to come up to her home turf. Somehow, although she lived around the corner, Jack got there before her. He had a tough-looking shaven-headed guy with him.

‘Meet Eddie Masterson,' he said, ‘my new driver. He got me here from Knightsbridge in... how long was it, Eddie?'

‘Fifteen minutes, sir.'

‘And how long have you been working for me, Eddie?'

‘Two days, sir.'

‘And who did you work for before that?'

‘David Durane at PopShop?' Lily butted in.

‘A thankless prick,' Eddie said, shaking his shaved head, ‘and a nasty bit of work if you don't mind me saying so, sir.'

‘I most certainly do not mind you saying any such thing,' Jack said. ‘In fact, you can say it repeatedly and do call me Jack, for God's sake, especially in front of the ladies. And now you can take the rest of the day off, Eddie. I don't know how long I'll be.'

Lily annoyed herself by feeling slightly thrilled that he was giving up his day to her, then he added, ‘I can get the tube home,' and she smiled inwardly, knowing the ridiculous comment was also him showing off for her benefit.

After Eddie had left, Jack turned to her and said, ‘Lily, I wanted you to meet my driver because I just stole him from Durane, along with an excellent PA and one of his knitwear designers. Durane's bound to try and get his own back and he might try and steal you, or Sally. The gloves are off; things might get mean and complicated. I want to know if you are up for this?'

‘Up for what?' she said, finding it impossible to keep an element of flirtation out of her voice. ‘For shafting Durane or making The Dress?'

‘Hopefully both,' Jack said, then his face darkened. ‘Although I need you to know I'll be going through with this challenge with or without you.'

Lily was shocked. ‘How do you mean?' she said. ‘The Dress is my idea.'

‘No,' he said. ‘The Dress is just something you are doing, Lily. It's me challenging PopShop that makes it an idea.'

‘So what are you saying?' Lily felt like crying, being sick, but she held it together.

‘You don't know it yet but this is going to be huge. PopShop is an international chain with endless resources and Durane hates me. He is going to pull out all the stops to win this thing. His money gives him access to the best designers London has right now and he is going to knock his team out to come up with something spectacular. I need to know we can match him. I need to know you are up for this.'

‘Up
to
this you mean. I cannot believe you want to me persuade you to let me do
my own
project.'

She stood up, about to tell him where he could stick his job, but he took her arm firmly, held her eye steady and gently pulled her back down.

‘Lily, listen. I want you to do this but you have to understand there is a lot at stake.'

‘Your pride,' she said.

‘Which,' and his face was an impenetrable mask, ‘is the pride of a very successful growing brand as well as a rather foolish man. If you make this work you will be the best-known designer in Britain. If you don't...?'

‘I'm right where I am now,' she said, ‘but I'll have made you look a fool.'

‘Worse than that,' he said, ‘I will find some other hotshot designer to make this damn dress for me and they will become the Next Big Thing because Lily, much as I like you...' he paused and gave a momentary melting look before snapping back into business mode, ‘I am
not
going to lose this challenge.'

What Jack didn't know and she didn't tell him was that this was more of a challenge for her than it was for him. The chance to prove that she not only knew everything there was about vintage design, but could actually match it with her own vision as a designer and couture dressmaker. She had never done either of those things before at any level close to this.

Lily was petrified but her desire to see The Dress made was greater than her fear.

‘I'll do it,' Lily said. ‘I accept your challenge, Mr Scott.'

They shook hands on it and spent the next couple of hours mapping out a plan. Lily would merge her blog with Scott's website then write a running commentary on the progress of The Dress as it happened. Scott's would sponsor everything and give her all the resources she needed. She could commission the fabric, buy valuable antique lace and oceans of Swarovski crystal if needs be. Any additional craftspeople or labour she needed to employ along the way would be covered by Scott's, as would all travel expenses for research and sourcing.

Before they left the pub, they ran through the Scott's Twitter account on Jack's iPad and it was aflame with speculation as to who PopShop were going to employ to make #TheDress.

‘If Durane has any sense he'll give it to an unknown like you,' Jack said, ‘and make it an even fight. But he won't.' He opened up his huge golfing umbrella against the spring drizzle. ‘He'll go for a big name. David is predictable like that; he doesn't deal with “nobodies”.'

There was something about his phrasing that didn't quite sit with Lily but she was distracted by the fact that Jack was walking with her down Kilburn High Road.

‘Where are you going?' she said.