The Dress (36 page)

During her periods of evening isolation Lily also started to draw. In those last few weeks Lily found that in addition to having created a magnificent evening gown, she also had half a dozen sketchpads packed with designs that could easily be edited to create a decent collection.

She was sitting in her flat flicking through them one morning when the phone rang.

‘I'm sorry. I made a mistake.'

Lily had picked up the phone in haste before she checked it for Sally's name. Her heart automatically melted at hearing her friend's voice for the first time in weeks.

‘I thought they were taking me on because I was brilliant...'

Then Lily remembered how angry she still was.

‘Bullshit. You could have gone when they first asked, but you waited until The Dress came up. You deliberately tried to sabotage the thing you knew was important to me. I can't believe I am even talking to you—'

‘You're right, you're right!' Sally butted in, just before Lily hung up. ‘I went to PopShop to get back at you and Jack. I was angry. I thought you had gone behind my back. Setting up your own private project without me.'

‘Excuse me? You were the first person I told about it, and I think your exact words were, “if you want to get back to designing there are better ways than just copying some old frock”. Besides, me and Jack were talking about The Dress the whole time we were in Miami. You could have joined in at any time, but you didn't. In fact, you were all eyes to heaven “yada yada” like it was the most stupid idea ever.'

‘Well, you were all cosy, cosy with Jack with your notebooks and your
amazing
sketches which you had never even bothered to show me.'

‘You had no interest, Sally, you made that clear... did you think my sketches were amazing?'

‘Of course they were amazing...' She paused, and the two of them just sat in phone silence for a moment. Lily took a deep breath and welled up. She had missed Sally so much. She hadn't realized how much she still needed her. Still, Lily didn't know what to say. Sally had hurt her so much.

‘I know I am a shite friend. The worst,' Sally continued. ‘I was jealous... of the way Jack was with you.'

‘Sally, there's nothing going on there.'

‘Not
that
– just while we were in Miami I knew that he could see something in you; your light, your passion. I was always the one that pushed you, encouraged you and now – now you were listening to him and not me.'

‘I always listen to you Sally.'

‘No, Lily, you
never
do. And in this case you were totally right. I am a jealous bitch. Jack was
my
thing, you know? He was part of
my
world. I was this big success and you were just beautiful, floaty Lily – wasting her design gift on blogging and vintage – but then I saw he was going to make a big deal out of you and I got mad.'

‘You've always pushed me, Sally.'

‘No, Lily, I've always nagged you, it's not the same thing. I've held you back and pushed myself forward because the truth is...'

Then out it came.

‘...the truth is you are so much cleverer and more talented than me, and you always have been. I was afraid of getting left behind. I didn't want to be in your shadow. God, Lily, I am so, so sorry. I am a vile horrible bitch and I don't blame you if you never want to see me again.'

‘Oh, Jesus, Sally.' Lily was crying now too. ‘Get in the car and come round here this instant.'

Half an hour later they were hugging it out in Lily's hallway, like it had never happened.

As Sally pushed her face into Lily's shoulder she muttered, ‘I'm sorry.'

‘It's no big deal,' Lily said, then added, ‘Wanna see something that
is
a big deal?'

She took Sally's hand and led her into the sitting room to see The Dress.

As she stood in front of it Sally did something that Lily had not seen her do since Lee Gillespie snogged her in a Youth Club disco in 1997. She cried tears of pure joy.

The antique-rose bodice was inlaid with the finest lace and reached upwards in starched layered petals that were so fine they seemed to disappear into the air like breath on a winter's day. An elaborate display of crystals and pearls gathered at the waistline then crept down the hipbone in jewelled tentacles onto a huge skirt which was layer upon layer of soft silk and chiffon. It seemed so soft it could be mistaken for a cloud. Across sections of a lace overskirt were embroidered depictions of old wedding pictures, done with such painstaking accuracy they could have been screen prints. It was an original touch that pushed The Dress out of the realms of mere garment-making and into that of true art.

It was unlike anything Sally had ever seen before. She could barely believe Lily had made it but then, actually? Yes she could. She had always known Lils was super talented. ‘That,' she said when she was finally able to gather herself, ‘
that
is the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen in my life.'

Lily was thrilled, not just at Sally's reaction, but because her dearest friend had been the first person to see the finished article. The person who had first told her she could be a designer, the one who had so wanted this for her all their lives and had gently pushed her back into it.

‘You think it can win?'

‘Oh, Lily,' she said, breathless. ‘Win some stupid competition? Babe – this goes way beyond Lucy and PopShop and Scott's darling, this dress should be hanging in a museum. It's a masterpiece. It's a piece of couture history.'

They stood for a moment in silence, the figure of The Dress watching over them like some silent goddess.

‘I left PopShop,' Sally said. Lily smarted, then smiled. Tough talking Sally was back.

‘Nice. Is that why you called me?'

‘Of course. OK, only partly. They sent me out to spy on you. I thought they actually wanted me because I was good, but it turns out all they wanted was for me to snitch out on you.'

‘Which you did.'

‘Which I didn't, actually.'

‘Well, what was all that about releasing Lucy's designs to the press?'

‘Dur? That was my final stand – to let you see what she was doing. Show her hand. Rather ordinary didn't you think?'

‘The press loved her design...'

‘The press love
anything
that's supposed to be a secret. Anyway, they fired me after that.'

Lily didn't know what to say. A small part of her thought she
should
be glad to see Sally suffer after how she had abandoned her but the greater part of her loved her friend so much and hated to see her treated badly. She muttered ‘bastards' under her breath then took a deep breath and said, ‘I suppose you want me to feel sorry for you and forgive you?'

‘Absolutely. I've said I'm sorry, and anyway, I bet it gave you a kick up the behind. God knows, I'm sure you needed it you, lazy cow.'

‘I suppose you want a job?'

‘Friends first – work later.
Of course I want a job
.'

‘I'll give Jack a ring.'

‘He won't like it, he hates me.'

‘Not as much as he hates David Durane.'

‘And
loves
you...'

‘Of course.'

‘Plus, I have an
amazing
idea about how to promote the competition. It's huge, it'll take an act of God – but if anyone can pull it off, it's Jack and he'll love it.'

Lily rang her boss. He was not impressed and there was no offer to rush up to Kilburn and see them today. However, he was very curious, anxious even, to hear Sally's big idea, so he summoned them both into the Scott's boardroom.

Sally was petrified. She hadn't seen Jack since Miami. He was already sitting at the top of the table when they walked in, London's skyline stretched out behind him. He had his best intimidating-businessman face on. Although his expression was impervious he looked as gorgeous as ever. Sally determined she would find a way round him. She always did.

‘Before you say anything,' she said before her bum hit the seat, ‘I want to apologize, Jack. It was wrong of me to go to PopShop without telling you. Even if my motives were pure.'

Jack raised his eyebrows in cynical expectation.

‘I went there as a spy, Jack, pure and simple. I can tell you everything you need to know about Lucy's dress.'

Jack raised his hand and was about to say he did not want to hear another word, when Lily butted in.

‘It's true, Jack. Sally has told me everything about Lucy's dress – and it was really,
really
useful. I think we should get her back on the team.'

Nobody, least of all Jack, needed to know the nitty gritty of why Sally had left. She was back. That was all that mattered to Lily.

‘I need Sally,' Lily said, ‘to do the styling and art direction, if we are going to win this competition.' As she said it, Lily realized that actually, that was true. ‘I need her input. Without her, I can't make it happen.'

Jack closed his eyes and when he opened them again the two women were giving him their most charming smiles. Lily, with her long red hair and scarlet lips and alabaster skin – she had Ingénue Creative written all over her but she was tougher than she looked. Sally, feisty, determined, full of great ideas and distractingly voluptuous, but she was not as tough as she pretended to be. Jack caved.

‘Go ahead, then. Tell me your big idea.'

Jack held his stern expression but already he knew he would take her back. Sally was a great stylist, but besides that, there was just
something
about her. Nobody else put him in his place quite like her, and he liked it.

‘Right,' Sally said. ‘The best way, the
only
way you will win this competition is on a catwalk. I have seen Lucy's dress, and Lily's, hands down, is
the
catwalk dress. The Met Ball in New York is
the
fashion event of the year. Jack, you know the people in charge and if you don't, I researched their name and number from the PopShop files. I mooted the idea to Durane and he loved it but I persuaded him to hold off until I got some pictures of your dress – which, of course, I am not going to do. However, now if
you
make the approach to the Met people and mandate to charm them into hosting The Dress-Off, it will seem like
your
idea, which will drive Durane absolutely insane.'

She slid a piece of paper across the table.

‘I like it,' he said, looking at the number.

‘That last bit was just pure spite. A bonus. I thought you'd approve. Both dresses will be catwalked and voted on by the world's style elite. Publicity, publicity, publicity. Profile, profile, profile.'

Jack was all fired up. Lily was sitting back, letting them get on with it, enjoying the show.

‘We have to get the old woman there,' Jack told Sally. ‘That'll give us the edge.'

‘We don't need an edge,' Sally assured him. ‘I've worked both sides and you'll win hands down...
what
old woman?'

Lily filled her in on Honor, then put it to bed by saying, ‘She's dead.'

It was easier than explaining everything, and it was probably the truth.

The meeting ended well. Jack got the Met Ball organizers on speaker phone. There and then he and Sally made the deal. They were resistant, as the event was only a few weeks away but between Sally persuading them of the editorial and historical value of the project and Jack throwing sponsorship money at the museum, they went for it.

‘The tickets are $25,000 a head so we can't bring the whole team,' Jack said.

Sally gave him a look.

‘Obviously you and Lily.'

Sally gave him another look.

‘We'll negotiate. And let's have a party in London before we go.'

‘It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr Scott,' Sally said.

‘And you, Ms Sally.'

Lily smiled, noticing that she might as well not be in the room.

New York, 1959

Losing Honor

Dear Honor,

I am writing this letter to you, by way of an apology. You have every right to be angry with me, nonetheless I beg of you to believe that my words are heartfelt.

I am sorry for all the vicious things I have said about you and Frank and I am sorry for ruining your wedding day.

In recent weeks I have come to understand how my behaviour, over the years, has affected those people I thought I loved.

In truth, I don't think I really understood what love was, until now. I was too busy, chasing away my fears and anxieties with booze, to fully give love to any other human being.

I wanted to be rescued from myself and I thought Frank would ‘rescue' me. I confused that selfish need for reassurance and succour, with love.

Whether Frank ever truly loved me or not, is not for me to say, but I do believe that he is a good man and that he deserves a better wife than I ever was to him and so, for what it is worth, Honor, I am giving your marriage my blessing.

I am also extending those same good wishes to your business venture with Breton – you are a gifted designer and I have no doubt that you will succeed.

As for our friendship, I am deeply saddened by that loss, as I do feel there was a bond forged between us during the time you made me that beautiful dress. I know that the garment is back in your possession and, while I do miss its sublime beauty, I have no need of it in my life anymore.

With the help of some good friends and a Higher Power I choose to call God, I have finally come to understand that the greatest beauty I can ever achieve will come from inside my heart and I am concentrating all of my efforts on making that happen. Slowly, I am learning how to be a better person.