Chapter Forty-Three
‘Clem, sweetie?’ We have a Disaster.’
Clem turned and looked at Tinks. In setting up the show, she had known she would need lots of help and had called on the VA, Paddy, and her own list of friends from Central Saint Martins to pull a team together. Tinks was one of Paddy’s suggestions, a girl who apparently had every model and agency on speed dial and was brilliant at getting the right models for a show. Paddy had failed to mention how overly dramatic she was. Over Tinks’s shoulder she could see her old friend, Rafe Jones, place a hand to his forehead and pretend to swoon. She owed that man a drink after helping her to pull a crew together so quickly, although she was terribly glad that Delilah, his faithful but smelly dog had remained at home. In the meantime, she needed to deal with Tinks.
‘Disaster?’
‘Ted’s broken his foot. Fell off a kerb last night and is now in a cast.’
Clem balled her fists and counted to ten. The staging rooms were in full flux; models were arriving and slowly being fitted in their gowns with Clem and a team of assistants making running alterations to the clothes, or occasionally, swapping models altogether. Make-up artists and hair stylists were also setting up, getting ready for the running onslaught. This show was particularly intensive, as there had to be two of everything. The historic costumes were in a separate room with their own dedicated dressers and make-up artists. It was also a food free, drink free zone. Giles had walked in, seen the hairdryers and had practically fainted. At that point, Clem agreed that the models would do hair and make-up, before getting dressed and the clothes would remain under cotton sheets. Duplicating the staff was a nightmare, but everyone was excited to be involved in such a special occasion.
It did mean that Clem was constantly running back and forth answering questions, but she was in her element; this was what she loved and she was buzzing off the energy of the room. This was her moment to shine or crash and burn, and she careered between terror and exhilaration. Earlier, when she had seen her name on the programme, she had burst into tears and then quickly dried her face in case anyone saw her. Naturally, as she turned round Aster was standing beside her with a hankie.
As soon as she had arrived at the VA last night she had begun working. This morning, she was back again first thing. Otto and Aster arrived with the stage crew and, with a rare hug, Aster told her this was all in hand and to focus on her task. And now she was, now she was in her zone and she was alive. Broken ankles were a chore, not the end of the world.
‘What was Ted wearing?’
‘The dinner jacket; he’s the modern male lead.’
Well, that was an issue. That outfit was what was considered in the trade, plus size. She needed a tall, muscular model for that. Looking around the room she agreed with Tinks’s assessment: all her other models were too slim. If only…
‘Wait here,’ she shouted to Tinks as she ran out of the fitting rooms and along the empty parquet corridors of the VA and into the long gallery, where the staging crew were building the lighting rig and working with the VA security technicians. Looking around, she tried to spot a familiar face and finally saw Rory chatting with Aster.
‘Rory,’ Clem called his name as she ran over to him, panting, ‘I need you.’
Aster smirked. ‘Bit forward, Clem, don’t you have a show to put on?’
Clem glared at her little sister and told her to shut up. She hoped Rory hadn’t noticed her blush. She had barely said a word to him after she had apologised yesterday, and the flight down had been very subdued. Or at least she was subdued; he kept whistling. She just hoped he hadn’t noticed how much she liked him. Not if he was still hung up on the stupid Janet.
‘One of our models has dropped out. Can you do it? All you have to do is walk up and down the catwalk. Please?’
Rory had spotted Clem the minute she had slammed through the doors, and then spotting him she had run straight towards him and told him she needed him. It was the stuff of his wildest dreams. He would do anything for this bad-tempered, erratic, enthusiastic, adorable dynamo. But modelling?
‘Please. If it wasn’t desperate, I wouldn’t ask but it’s one of the essential outfits. The staging won’t work without it and all the timings will be off.’
Aster chipped in. ‘It’s only walking. How hard can that be?’
Rory tried another attack. ‘How do you know it will fit? I’m not exactly your typical model shape, am I?’
‘It will fit perfectly,’ assured Clem. Of course it would. Christ, she had designed the outfit with Rory in mind. Clem didn’t need a measuring tape to know someone’s dimensions, and she knew that the suit would fit him like a glove. In fact, she couldn’t wait to see him in it.
‘You’ll be walking with Paddy, our sister. She’ll take care of you. Please?’ Clem knew she was pleading but what else could she do?
Rory sighed despondently; this was going to be mortifying but if he could help Clem out he would. He had been shocked as he watched her yesterday, though when Otto explained the situation with her contract, he had begun to understand how important all this was to Clem.
‘Very well then.’
‘Yes!’ Clem clapped her hands and hugged Aster, then ran back towards the exit. It was only when she got to the doors that she saw Rory was still rooted to the spot beside Aster.
‘Come on then,’ she roared, and grinning to herself, she sprinted back to him, grabbed his hand and ran back to the dressing area, pulling him along after her.