Page 7 of Meet Me at Sunset

‘I’m Stephanie Moon, by the way,’ she said, stepping forwards and offering her hand. ‘I’m … staying here with Catherine for a couple of weeks.’

‘Lucky you,’ Camille laughed, as they shook hands. ‘It’s wonderful to meet you, Stephanie. If you don’t mind me asking, your face is familiar – would I recognize you from somewhere?’

‘Maybe …’ Stephanie said, a soft blush stealing across her face. This was happening more and more recently, and she was still getting used to it. ‘I’m an actress.’

‘Mon dieu, yes of course, I saw you on stage last year when I was in London, in The Tempest at the National Theatre. You were Ariel. You were electric, and you’re even more beautiful in the flesh.’

‘That’s very kind of you. It’s been a crazy year and everything is so intense.’

‘Didn’t I read that your new film is in production in England somewhere?’

Stephanie paused, unsure what to say. ‘Yes, I’m in Fields of Barley with Colin Firth and Jude Law. I’ve been … taking a break from it for a short while …’ She quickly ploughed on before Camille could ask her anything awkward about why she was in Mallorca in her yoga pants and not being shouted at by an angry director on a cold and grey Yorkshire film set. She set her face in a winning smile. ‘Catherine’s been so wonderful letting me stay here, to give myself a moment to recharge. She’s been like my fairy godmother.’

‘She’s fabulous, isn’t she? I’ve been longing to dress her for years, and now I finally have the opportunity. That’s why I’m here,’ Camille explained. ‘Michael is receiving a Lifetime Achievement Award in Hollywood this autumn, and Catherine wants to wear something truly special. Today, we have our first meeting.’

‘That sounds incredible. I honestly do love your dresses,’ Stephanie gushed, genuinely, remembering as a teenager seeing footage of her idol Kate Moss sashaying down the catwalk in a flowing Camille white tuxedo suit. That was when life was very different, before everything changed.

‘Well perhaps we could work together too?’ Camille suggested. ‘You have a premiere coming up, non …?’

Stephanie let out a gasp. ‘Do you mean it?’

‘Absolument. The pleasure would be all mine.’

The two women beamed at one another as Maria re-entered the room, carrying a tray with traditional Mallorcan pastries, a large silver pot and two cups, which she placed down on the marble coffee table in front of them.

‘The lady said please call her back urgently.’ Maria said. ‘She sounded very … tensa.’

Tense? Hardly surprising, Stephanie thought to herself. ‘Thank you, Maria.’ She quickly changed the subject. ‘So how did you end up being a fashion designer?’ Stephanie asked Camille, as she sat down in the adjacent armchair. ‘I can’t imagine what it must be like to have an idea in your head, and then see women all around the world wearing the clothes you’ve envisioned.’

‘It is rather surreal sometimes,’ Camille agreed, pouring them both a coffee. ‘But wonderful too. People tend to think that fashion is frivolous, but the right clothes can change your life. They can give you confidence, boost your mood, and make you feel a hundred times better about yourself. When you’re wearing something beautiful, you can’t help but feel beautiful too.’

Stephanie nodded. ‘I did a photo shoot recently for Vogue, wearing vintage couture gowns. The hours of work that had gone into them … They were like works of art.’

Camille nodded in agreement. ‘It’s true, that’s exactly what they are. It’s how I started, you know – in couture. I trained at the most prestigious institute in Paris. It seems like such a long time ago now,’ Camille continued, her eyes misting over with memories. Then she shook herself. ‘I’m sorry, you don’t want to listen to me droning on about the past. My goodness, I founded my company before you were even born!’

‘No, I’d love to hear all about it.’ Stephanie slipped off her trainers and curled her legs up on the armchair. ‘Tell me all about how you started Camille Andre.’

Camille smiled sadly. ‘Andre, my husband, founded the business with me. We met at the Chambre Syndicale and we were instantly inseparable. We were very much in love. When we left the school, it was only natural that we would set up a business together. And get married, and have a child …’

‘That’s so romantic,’ Stephanie sighed.

‘Don’t misunderstand me – it wasn’t all moonlight and roses. It took a long time for us to be successful, and that meant many years where money was tight, where we worked what felt like twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, all whilst trying to raise our son and keep our marriage strong. We could have cut corners and aimed for mass-market appeal with a lower price tag, but we didn’t want to. Andre insisted on quality,’ Camille smiled. ‘He always wanted the best, but success didn’t come immediately.’

‘What changed?’

‘This,’ Camille said simply, indicating the iconic red calfskin handbag nestled on the sofa beside her. ‘We knew we had something special, but we didn’t understand the impact it would have. Everyone was carrying it, everyone wanted it. It changed our lives.’

‘Wow,’ Stephanie said softly. ‘Wait? Is Andre in Majorca with you? I’d love to meet him.’

Camille swallowed, her expression faltering. ‘He … he died,’ she explained quietly. ‘Just over four years ago now.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Stephanie burst out, feeling terrible. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘That’s all right,’ Camille insisted. ‘He was in a car accident. It was the most devastating time of my life. My son was also in the car and he was almost killed. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost them both …’

She trailed off, and Stephanie leaned across, taking Camille’s hands in hers. She didn’t speak, just squeezed them reassuringly. Words weren’t needed. Camille squeezed back and Stephanie knew she’d appreciated the gesture. Even though she barely knew this woman, and their lives were very different, she felt a connection to her. Stephanie liked her immediately.

Camille sat up, extracting her hands to wipe away a stray tear. ‘Andre used to love Mallorca,’ she explained. ‘His mother was from the island, and we had so many happy times here. That’s why I’ve come back to launch the new Camille Andre collection. But it’s bittersweet. I’m seeing him everywhere, remembering everything we used to do – our favourite bar where we’d drink a palo con sifón; the little bakery where we’d buy fresh ensaïmada every morning; even the doorway by the monastery where we sheltered once during a summer rainstorm …’