Page 25 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin
‘You never know, you might even wear it for your own prince one day,’ Marian had suggested.
‘Or princess,’ Patricia added.
That prince was the reason I was standing there, being confronted by my bosses.
‘Look, creatively you have it in spades, Grace. Yoursketching designs, your sewing and creating physical pieces, your dexterity, your in-depth knowledge of fabrics .?.?.’ Patricia went on, looking to Marian, who’d nodded like a bobbing dog head and picked up the baton.
‘Right! You gave us everything in your showcase: cotton, chambray, damask, chiffon, jersey, silk, denim, flannel, gingham, brocade. We just need to see your work ethic now. How you work with us and others is vital. Your commitment especially.’ Marian had raised an eyebrow, her hair severe, gelled back, but she’d smiled warmly at me.
Outside, the rest of the office was bustling with the new bridal-season collection fast approaching, and I’d just asked them for a couple of weeks off to design the costumes for Logan’s production ofMacbethat The New Theatre.
‘Grace, you need to be here all the time; you can’t dip in and out. It’s a full-time internship. You are in charge of the fittings. Helping to dress the models, ensuring gowns fit properly before they step onto the runway. We have to trust you will be there on time. We know it’s a token wage, but we can discuss it after the showcase, if it’s that?’ Patricia twisted the lid from her miniature see-through water bottle and sipped.
‘Oh no! No .?.?. it’s not that, it’s amazing you’re paying me to intern, I know loads of other ex-students who aren’t getting paid at all,’ I’d told them, gratefully.
‘Take me, for example!’
I’d spun around to see Emma Stark leaning in the door frame, head to toe in tight red leather.
‘Emma! You’re here again! God bless you, grab a cappo from the machine, we’re just finishing up with Grace before she has to leave,’ Marian had said gleefully.
‘Emma was telling us that she’s not even getting expenses at Bespoke Bride. Ridiculous and that should be illegal, with her talent!’ Patricia replaced her water bottle in her stylish beltholder.
‘Ahh, do you have to rush off again, Grace? That’s a shame, like. Be great to catch up at some stage?’ Emma said. And then, to Patricia and Marian, ‘Take your time, you’ve got me all night. I am one hundred per cent all yours.’ She flicked her wrist where her dozens of silver bracelets jingle-jangled.
‘Emma, what are you doing here .?.?.?’ I’d trailed off when I saw the cagey look cross her ambitious face.
‘I dropped by last week one evening after hours to see if the guys needed an extra pair of hands. You’d just gone home for the day, as a matter of fact .?.?.’ She looked over at Marian, arms hanging loosely by her sides.
‘We set her up at your station, she’s been a godsend,’ Marian told me in a voice that said, ‘Read between the lines, Grace.’
‘Oh, that was really nice of you,’ I mumbled.
‘Nothing nice about it, I’d move heaven and earth to get my foot in the door here, I’m obsessed with Marian and Patricia’s talent. I’m fangirling every day!’ Emma had removed her leather box jacket and given me a little noisy wave. I watched her for a moment as she headed straight to my station outside and draped her jacket on the back of my chair.
‘So, how can I make thirty-two costumes and intern full-time staying on late?’ I asked Logan later that night, holding him at arm’s length. But he sweet-talked me and I’d worked nineteen-hour days and was completely out on my feet. I made Logan’s costume forMacbethout of paper-thin leatherette and silver biker studs, it was very rock and roll, which was my theme throughout. Bare-chested (hairless and spray tanned) and barefoot with his toenails painted black, he looked like a Rock God. Lady Macbeth’s costume was inspired by Britney Spears’s skintight red latex catsuit, which I teamed with a latex hood, long black leather gloves and Spice Girl-type platform runners. Macduff in aReservoir Dogs-inspired sharp, black suitwith faux fur cape embedded in big brass buckles. I worked so hard and the entire cast looked like they were about to shoot a music video. Logan was ecstatic. I rarely saw him.
I ran between the two jobs, literally sprinted. Inside,Ferguson Brophywas manic. Well-known models walked around butt-naked and the most exquisite fabrics were strewn across every available space, Point d’esprit, Dupioni, Batiste, Charmeuse, Dotted Swiss, Gazar, Mikado, Shantung. Fabrics I’d been dying to work with all my life. I’d caressed them and held them to my face, inhaled them; I was in heaven, but I was so tired. Twice, Marian asked me if I was okay. I lied, said that I had terrible period pains. I knew they weren’t impressed with me, I’d tried so hard but I was exhausted. I knew I was an idiot.
Chapter Fourteen
‘We are approaching Dalkey station. Dalkey station next stop.’ The announcement pulls me from my memories and I stand up, throw my bag over my bare shoulder. It’s the one part of Logan I regret the most, fucking up my career so he could have his. And I only have myself to blame.
The heat catches in my throat as I disembark onto the platform. I jostle in the heaving crowd, who are no doubt heading for a swim at Vico Baths. Outside, the sea breeze is glorious, it blows my unruly hair back as I stroll across the village towards Mia’s detached bungalow with a For Sale sign now in the garden.
Passing the sea swimmers in swimsuits and sliders, I inhale the aroma of their salt-and-vinegar-soaked brown bags of chipper chips. My stomach rumbles and I turn the corner to her house. I pull down the latch and open the wooden gate to Mia’s house, crunching up her gravel driveway.
*
Mia’s face appears around her slate-grey hall door before I’ve even rung the bell, even shorter curls on display.
‘So come on, tell me how was the date last night? Did you ask him to my party?’
‘Hello to you, too. Chopped off more of your hair I see? It’sgorgeous,’ I say, stepping into the hall. It’s like she’s continuing to change her old self. She stands barefoot in the white-tiled hallway in a green-leaf-print floaty spaghetti-strap sundress.
‘The date?’ she asks again as I shut the door behind me. ‘How was he? Was it weird being on a date again? I’ve made us homemade pink lemonade.’ As always, she’s so welcoming and hospitable. Mia loves nothing more than having people round and entertaining. Another thing Michael didn’t like.
‘It .?.?. it .?.?. it .?.?.’ After an absolutely boiling-hot commute to the coastline of Dalkey, I cannot wait to kick off my camouflage huarache sandals. I walk towards her with beads of sweat trickling down my chest, the cool tiles so welcoming beneath my feet.
