Chapter 17
Off-the-plane Lauren:
Beige and cream check blanket jacket
Cream sweatshirt
Baggy cream jeans
Beaten up sheepskin boots
Beige backpack
Luggage
Leaving Svetlana in the sitting room, even if this meant she would be judged forever as the shabbiest housekeeper of all time, or London-woman-most-in-need-of-a-housekeeper, Annie bolted towards the front door with all kinds of thoughts running through her mind.
Lauren is back! There was a huge burst of happiness and joy to see her and be with her after all this time.
But this was also mixed with – Lauren is back…
Why? Is she ill? In trouble? Has something gone wrong at work, or personally?
People don’t make transatlantic flights and show up on doorsteps unannounced unless something major is going on.
By now, she was pulling open the front door and there she was, Annie’s beloved daughter, all grown-up and self-possessed and beautiful in so many ways and yet still, to Annie, a young girl who much more occasionally these days, just needed to be with her mum.
‘Oh! Hello, my darling, hello,’ Annie said as she folded Lauren into her arms and held her close.
‘Muuuuuuum,’ Lauren said and it sounded like a sigh of relief. For one long, lovely moment, Annie just held her tight, running a hand over the silky head just as she had done so often before over the years.
‘Lauren, I have no idea what you’re doing here but it’s so lovely to see you,’ Annie said.
‘Long story,’ were Lauren’s words as she lifted her head from Annie’s shoulder and locked eyes with her mother. Annie looked deep into the cornflower blue irises, saw purple rings under those eyes and the pale, tired face.
‘Long journey,’ she said, ‘you must be exhausted. Ummm… important heads-up, Svetlana is here,’ she added voice a little lowered.
‘Is that going to be… well… any kind of problem?’ Svetlana as the owner – or as she preferred to call it Founder and CEO – of Perfect Dress, was Lauren’s ultimate boss, even if her day-to-day boss was Svetlana’s daughter, Elena.
No sooner had Annie said this than Svetlana appeared at the sitting room door. ‘Hello, Lauren,’ was all she said and with a smile, but Lauren bolted for the stairs barely mumbling a reply.
‘Lauren?’ Annie called after her, but by the sound of the closing door, Lauren had made for the bathroom and wasn’t coming back down right now. Svetlana and Annie looked at one another.
Svetlana gave a shrug and told her friend, ‘I would make some more coffee if I were you. You are probably going to hear a long story.’
‘I hope Elena knows she’s decided to come over here,’ Annie said.
‘Lauren is a clever girl,’ Svetlana said. ‘I’m sure everything is OK, or will be OK once you have straightened her out again. Maybe boy trouble…?’ Svetlana added, followed by, ‘we all had so much boy trouble at this age.’
‘Weren’t you happily married to your first multi-millionaire?’ Annie couldn’t help asking.
‘Exactly! Nothing but boy trouble.’ Svetlana laughed. ‘OK, I am going to go now and we will talk every day, meet as often as we need to, and get this new show on the road. Yes?’
‘Yes…’
‘And wear your ring, Annah,’ were Svetlana’s parting words before the swishing blonde hair and dove-grey cashmere suit swung out of the front door. ‘It will bring energy and success!’
‘I could definitely do with both,’ she said cheerfully, giving Svetlana a goodbye hug. ‘I’m so happy we’re friends again. See you soon.’
* * *
One by one, Annie wheeled the two large suitcases that Lauren had brought into the house towards the base of the stairs.
‘Shall I come up? Or are you coming down? Svetlana has gone,’ she shouted up to her daughter.
And now here was Lauren coming cautiously down, somewhere between exhausted and worried. Maybe wondering what kind of reception she was going to get for turning up completely unannounced like this.
‘This is a surprise,’ Annie said, which was putting it lightly.
‘A lovely surprise, but still a surprise. And I’m guessing people don’t just bolt out of New York and turn up on their family’s doorstep without a good reason.
Is everything OK, babes?’ she asked and when she saw her daughter’s worried face in response to this question, she held out her arms and said simply, ‘Come and have another hug.’
Then she and Lauren spent a long moment just hugging because hugging was everything, and much more important than words.
‘It’s OK to come home,’ Annie said gently.
‘Sometimes you just need to come home.’ She could feel Lauren’s chin nodding on her shoulder.
‘Do you want to come and talk for a little? Or do you want to go to bed? I don’t mind, there’s plenty of time to talk. ’
‘Can I come and have tea with you? I miss tea—’ this came out almost as a sob.
‘Of course you can, darling. Come to the kitchen where I will make tea for you and another coffee for me.’ There was a vague tinkling in the back of Annie’s mind about how much she had to do.
The new show venue, the fact that all the guests had to be contacted and redirected to this new venue.
The knowledge that they would need so many more flowers and clothes and chairs and guests and…
Owen’s bank account needed topping up, apparently…
and wasn’t there dry cleaning to collect and a list of other chores about as long as her arm, dear God, she still hadn’t picked the juice box up from the carpet but never mind right now.
Lauren was here. So forget everything else for now.
She would catch up with it. She would manage it all in good time.
But right now, she was going into the kitchen to make Lauren tea and listen to whatever it was that had sent her storming through the night all the way back home.
* * *
At first there was a little chit-chat and preamble: how was the flight? How are the twins liking nursery? What about Owen – is he surviving? And what about you, Mum? Are you surviving without Owen?!
‘Without you and without Owen, you mean?’ Annie made sure to answer. ‘I would like to say it’s very quiet round here, but the twin noise has just expanded to fill the space. Of course, I miss you…’ she insisted. ‘But I’m so proud of both of you.’
Now they were settled with their drinks and the preamble was over, Lauren’s eyes fixed on her mother’s face.
‘I was just suddenly… yeah, all of a sudden… I was just over it,’ she began.
‘Over New York and all its crap, over the New York dating scene times about one hundred and over being so far away from home and London and my old friends.’ Annie put her hands over her daughter’s but didn’t say anything because the best encouragement to talk was usually for Annie to listen.
‘I wanted to come home,’ Lauren said, ‘and I was just suddenly so desperate to come home that I went online and joined one of those budget flight club sites and bought a flight for $160 that left that evening.’
‘You could have phoned,’ Annie said. ‘I could at least have taken the laundry rack out of your bedroom… and the exercise bike… and the rowing machine…’ Fitness trends I started but could never commit to, Annie couldn’t help telling herself off.
‘The weights…’ Lauren added. ‘I was always stubbing my toes on those weights. And let’s not forget the fact that my wardrobe is the “overflow” now,’ Lauren made air quotes with her fingers, ‘for your wardrobe, which means it’s absolutely rammed with handbags, shoes and dresses that you will never wear again but have completely convinced yourself that you will. ’
‘I will,’ Annie said simply, not wanting to stir up any old rants or debates. ‘And what about Elena?’ was Annie’s careful question. ‘Does she know that you’re back in London.’
‘Of course she knows!’ came the outraged voice Annie knew oh-so-well from Lauren’s erm… volatile… teenage years.
‘And is she OK about it…? I mean, a day isn’t exactly a lot of notice…’
‘I’ve told her I’ve had to take a holiday, urgently. And she understands.’
‘Oh… that was probably a good idea,’ Annie said, relieved that Lauren hadn’t handed in her notice, stormed out of the office and burned her New York bridges in one big dramatic action.
‘Yes, but I’ve brought everything home. There’s another massive suitcase arriving tomorrow…
it took a different flight. Because I’m not going back, Mum.
And the reason I didn’t want to phone you before I came is that I just didn’t have the energy to argue with you because I knew you’d try to persuade me to stay. ’
‘Oh…’ Annie felt a little hurt by this. Hadn’t she always, always tried to understand what her children were feeling and support them?
‘I probably would have just sounded you out, tried to make sure you were sure, before getting on the plane. I wouldn’t have argued with you to stay,’ Annie told her daughter.
‘Yes, you would, “it’s the dream job, Lauren. Most girls your age would kill to live and work in New York, and work in fashion!” But the reality, Mum…
the reality is worrying massively about tiny details which completely don’t matter.
Do not matter at all. What colour is this season?
Next season? What cut? What print is going to wow the buyers.
It’s just complete and utter madness,’ Lauren went on, really warming to her theme, getting the let’s-bash-fashion bit right between her teeth.
‘If they stopped making clothes tomorrow, we’d still have enough clothes in the world to dress the next six generations! ’
‘But… only if vintage makes a massive comeback,’ Annie couldn’t help herself.
‘Muuuuum!’ Lauren protested.
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know what you mean. A lot of it is… trivial, detail, maybe not important compared to—’
‘World politics, global hunger, pollution, climate change, you know all of those little problems…’
At this point Annie couldn’t help her eyes widening. She might be unhappy with her TV gig at the moment and looking for a new opportunity, but she knew she would always and forever work in fashion. Fashion would always be Her Thing.
And this was Lauren. Lauren who had spent hundreds of hours of her life teaching herself how to cut that fringe and shape those brows so artfully.
Lauren who customised clothing with her own unique sewing skills.
It could just about make Annie cry. Maybe Lauren was just rebelling, underlining her uniqueness, her independence from her family and especially her mother.
‘I’m working on a fashion show with Svetlana,’ Annie began.
‘You’ll love this because it’s very eco-friendly, all about recycling clothes…
and some of those things are so wonderful, maybe they will last for six generations.
And we’re raising money for a wonderful cause.
So absolute win-win. Maybe you’d like to help out on it a bit.
Some really cool people are involved.’ Lauren’s face was stoney.
‘A show… a glitzy, starry show… that might be what you need to get your fashion mojo back?’
OK, maybe it wasn’t the perfect thing to say. Maybe Annie should have read the signs… Lauren was not in the mood for fashion; Lauren was obviously determined to be an eco-warrior.
But still, she didn’t expect Lauren to crumple and begin sobbing. ‘Fashion is killing the planet, Mum. We are killing the planet.’