Chapter Twenty
Russell had won, in the end. Lucy had pleaded with her father in particular, saying that she barely made any noise with the sewing machine, and certainly no more noise than her mother made when she used it, so there was no reason why Russell should have a problem with it.
‘I know,’ he’d said, taking her hands. ‘But will you do this – for me?’
This was confining her sewing to the dry-cleaning shop, which wasn’t a great solution either because Russell would still be there.
If he had a problem with noise at home, she wondered how he coped working in a noisy drycleaner’s.
But, of course, the problem wasn’t the noise.
The problem was her. The problem would always be her.
Her mother found her later and apologised; by then, though, Lucy had worked on hardening her heart.
Her whole life, neither of her parents has put her first. Russell has always been the priority – and he still isn’t happy. Or maybe that’s why he’s never happy: his expectations of how life is meant to be are out of whack with the reality.
At least her mother helped Lucy move the calico and other fabric to the shop, and gave her a dedicated spot in the office to keep things.
‘I know you’ll need to be here later than normal,’ her mother said, as if she was making a concession. As if being there with her sewing – instead of at home with its heaviness – isn’t exactly what Lucy prefers.
So maybe Russell did her a favour. He was probably hoping she’d have to stop sewing altogether.
If her parents had demanded that, Lucy doesn’t know what she would have done, except it would have involved her finding a way to keep making things.
Because making things – creating something out of nothing – gives her a sense of peace.
Time elapses and she has no sense of it.
She doesn’t even know where she is. It’s magic.
And so she’ll hold on to it, regardless of what that might mean.
Each afternoon since, she’s worked her hours at the shop, then kissed her mother goodbye and stayed back a while. Not too long – an hour or two – then she goes home and eats the dinner left out for her, does her homework and goes to bed.
Since this change in her routine, Russell has once or twice appeared in the sewing space at the shop.
She has sensed him there, but not looked at him.
It’s not as if he can complain about her sewing at the shop – if he doesn’t like it, he can leave – so the only reason he’d come anywhere near her is to make her life miserable.
Well, she’s not going to let him, as far as she’s able.
So this is how she makes her Christmas dress: working back at the shop; hiding it when she’s finished each day by rolling it back up as if it’s still just fabric and not her first ever creation.
Each time she looks at it, she can’t stop smiling.
And the day after she finishes it, she folds it up, wraps it in a plastic bag and takes it home, so she can carry it to school the next day and take it to Daphne in her lunchbreak.
Maybe it’s odd that Daphne’s the first person she wants to show it to – it probably should have been her mother or her friends. Except Daphne’s as interested in clothes as Lucy is, which makes her think Daphne will understand.
After the lunch bell rings, Lucy rushes to her locker and takes out her bag, then almost flies across the road to the charity shop. As she pushes open the door she sees Daphne near the jewellery cabinet, in conversation with a blonde lady who looks familiar. Maybe she’s seen her in the shop before?
Then the lady turns toward her and Lucy’s heart skips a beat. That’s … Christina Clarke! She’s seen her in magazines.
A few months ago she wore this gold Grecian column dress to a movie premiere and on most people it would have looked like a huge mistake, but on her it looked really chic.
Christina Clarke can ‘wear clothes’, as her mother might say – it’s one thing to know how to buy clothes and put outfits together, but it’s another to know how to wear them in such a way that they don’t wear you.
But no – it can’t be Christina Clarke. Why would she be here? In the charity shop? Or in Sydney generally …
Oh. Lucy remembers seeing something on the news.
She likes to watch the news because it reminds her there’s a world beyond her small life.
Christina had to leave Hollywood because of some affair or something, and she was believed to be back living in Sydney.
But round here? Lucy sometimes sees famous people in Mosman, but not movie stars.
‘Oh, Lucy!’ Daphne says, looking genuinely happy to see her, as she always does. It’s another reason why Lucy likes coming here. ‘What good timing – you can meet our newest volunteer, Christina.’
Christina smiles at her and Lucy feels like she might faint. She’s never met anyone this famous before. Although she’s still not sure it’s really, really Christina Clarke.
‘Hi, Lucy,’ Christina says. ‘I like your necklace.’
Lucy’s hand goes to her throat and the woven necklace she made herself out of fabric scraps gleaned from her mother’s alterations.
‘Thanks,’ she chokes out, then has no idea what to say next.
‘Christina is going to be here one or two days a week,’ Daphne says, saving her.
‘Gr-great.’ Lucy pretends to be interested in the belt rack near the door.
It’s so weird that she’s so nervous. She feels rude for not speaking properly but she can’t. Does Christina always have to deal with people being this nervous around her?
‘What do you have there?’ Christina asks, pointing to the plastic bag. In the bright daylight the Christmas pattern on the dress is partially visible.
‘Um … Oh …’ As much as Lucy wants Daphne to see her dress, suddenly she thinks it will look so amateurish to Christina, who wears couture on red carpets.
‘Nothing,’ she says. ‘Just something I was going to show Daphne.’
Lucy hopes Daphne will rescue her at this point, but instead the older woman looks like she’s amused. ‘Come on, then,’ she says.
Christina looks almost excited, which makes Lucy feel even more nervous.
‘Oh – no, it’s all right,’ she says. ‘I’ll come back some other time. You’re both busy.’
‘Can’t I see?’ Christina says. ‘I love talking about clothes.’ She gestures to the bag and smiles. ‘I’m guessing that it’s something to do with clothes?’
Lucy wants nothing more than to impress her, which is why she also wants nothing more than to turn around and leave. Except that would be rude.
‘Oh … I really … Um …’ Lucy bites her bottom lip. ‘It’s just something I made. Daphne suggested the pattern. I wanted to show her how it turned out.’
Christina grins. ‘That’s so cool! Pretty please, can I see it?’
Christina Clarke is saying pretty please to her? Lucy glances at Daphne, who is still looking amused, which isn’t at all helpful.
‘Why don’t you go and try it on, Lucy-Lu?’ Daphne suggests.
Yes, good – trying it on will buy her some time to pull herself together.
She slips into the tiny changing room and puts on the dress. It’s crumpled from being in the bag, so she fluffs it up as best she can and cinches the red sash around her waist. Her school shoes aren’t the best complement to it, but she can’t exactly help that.
‘Oh, Lucy!’ Daphne exclaims as soon as she emerges. ‘It’s lovely!’
‘You made this?’ Christina says.
‘Um … yes. It’s my first dress.’
‘Really?’ Christina steps closer and Lucy can smell expensive perfume.
For the first time she notices what Christina is wearing: a simple black shift dress with a Yves Klein blue necklace and shoes the same shade. The blue necklace sets off her hair, so the combination is clever.
Christina plucks at the sleeves of Lucy’s dress so they stand up a little higher. ‘It’s truly lovely, Lucy. You should be very proud of yourself.’
Blood starts to thud in Lucy’s ears. Is Christina Clarke paying her a compliment?
This can’t be real. Maybe this is what ‘star power’ is – like she’s read about in the magazines.
Maybe it’s making someone feel like they’re in the presence of someone special – because Lucy feels that, and she also feels special herself.
‘I agree, Lucy-Lu.’ Daphne beams. ‘You’ve done a great job.’
‘What are you going to make next?’ Christina says.
‘Oh, um, I …’ Lucy has imagined lots of things she could make, but she hasn’t chosen anything specific. ‘I don’t know,’ she says.
‘Come and show us when you do, yeah?’ Christina says, still smiling.
Lucy feels like she’s in a dream, then real life intrudes as she remembers that the school bell will probably ring soon and she hasn’t eaten her lunch.
‘I’d better get changed,’ she says. ‘Lunchbreak will be over soon.’
She changes quickly and stuffs the Christmas dress back into its bag.
‘Come back when you have some more time, love,’ Daphne says. ‘I have a frock to show you. It’s a girl’s dress – a little white broderie anglaise number. I think you’ll be able to use the fabric for something.’
‘Okay, thanks,’ Lucy says, still in a daze as she slings her schoolbag over her shoulder. She barely risks another glance at Christina, just in case she doesn’t turn out to be real after all, then runs out the shop door and back toward the school gates.