The Greenwich Village shop assistant:
Blue silk pussy bow blouse (Ann Taylor)
Blue and white pleated skirt (Miu Miu)
Orange patent belt (Century 21)
Orange patent sandals (Gucci via Designer Shoe
Warehouse)
Total est. cost: $470
‘Isn’t that bag just soooo …’
‘I love this!! I love it! I’m never going home. I’m never even coming down!’
These were Lana’s words of greeting as she caught sight of her mum stepping out on to the viewing platform up on the 86th floor of the Empire State Building.
Annie was feeling a little robbed. In the twenty-five minutes since she’d entered the building and been whisked up the escalators to the ticket-buying floor, she’d spent more money than she could ever have imagined … and all on a view. There had been the extortionately expensive ticket, then straight through to the queue for the photo … click … $25 … all ready to be superimposed on the Empire State Building backdrop. The $10 for the pop-up souvenir map she already knew she’d only look at for five seconds. She’d even thrown a dollar into the machine which gave you back a penny … embossed with the Empire State Building, yes, but still a good way of turning a dollar into a penny.
Plus, she had a feeling there was going to be a huge, dazzling array of things she would absolutely just have to buy for her family as soon as she hit the ESB gift shop.
‘Tourist,’ Lana accused her, pointing at the $10 map in her hand.
‘Yeah right and you’re such a New Yorker, standing on top of the Empire State Building gawping. Look at you, eyes out on stalks. Are you having a lovely time?’
‘The best,’ Lana replied and turned her face back to the chain-link fence which protected tourists from the dangers of being up here; including being so overwhelmed by the sight of Manhattan Island stretching out before them in every direction that they’d just faint and topple over in sheer wonder.
It looked amazing. Annie hadn’t expected it to look anything else. Just to the north was the luscious greenery of Central Park, surrounded by the breathtaking apartments it probably took generations of mega-wealth to acquire. Downtown a whole cluster of skyscrapers shimmered in the city haze.
‘Look over there.’ Lana pointed to a fat spire which seemed to be entirely covered in gold: ‘Gold roof tiles, just how over-the-top is that? And over there – look, there’s actually a three-storey house, with a garden, on top of a skyscraper. Look at that! I’m sooooo loving this. I’ve decided I’m going to marry the next really fit looking guy I see and become an American and just stay here for ever. Simple.’
Annie smiled. What else could she do? She smiled even though there was a silent voice inside shouting, Of course you’re not moving to the other side of the Atlantic from me. Don’t even joke about this!
‘Do you know what it is about this view that is so exciting?’ Lana went on, finding it hard to tear her gaze from the glittering buildings downtown. ‘It isn’t the highest building in the city, but it’s high enough and so central that you feel right here, right in the heart of things. This is a view of the whole beating pulse of the place.’
‘The beating pulse,’ Annie repeated, ‘I like that. You’re right. This place just throbs in a way that London doesn’t. Maybe it’s the extremes – the height of the buildings, the length of the avenues, it all takes your breath away. London’s a town that gradually sprawled out into a city. Much more planning went into making New York amazing.’
‘D’you know how big London was when Samuel Johnson said: “Tired of London, tired of life”?’
‘No,’ Annie looked at her, intrigued.
‘Just two square miles, or something like that … back in the 1700s.’
‘Clever clogs … so what do you think you’re going to do next then, darlin’? What’s the clever Lana brain going to focus on now?’
Annie asked the question gently, hoping it was a good moment. So many conversations about Lana’s future plans had gone badly that she was becoming very careful of raising the subject.
‘I’m thinking about it very hard,’ Lana answered, not taking her eyes from the view, ‘I’m going to look into some things and I’ll tell you, just as soon as I know more.’
It was the calmest, most focused reply Lana had given her in weeks.
Annie was just about to tell her daughter how absolutely fine this was when something thrilling, something green and shiny caught her eye. For a moment, she thought the woman walking past was carrying The Bag. The one Annie had longed for ever since she had first set eyes on it in a small and dimly lit show preview video. But no. It wasn’t The Bag, just a cheap imitation. It reminded her about The Bag, though. How could she have forgotten that the last few remaining sea-green Mulberrys were still, just possibly, somewhere in this very city?
All at once Annie’s passion to find The One was reignited.
‘We have to go!’ she told Lana.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. We’re definitely coming back. Maybe every day. Well, I would if I could get a season ticket or something.’
‘So where are we going?’
‘To Greenwich Village …’ Annie looked through her current handbag to see if the little scrap of paper with the very important bag shop address was still there.
‘Why?’
‘You’ll see …’
‘Is this for work?’
‘Sort of. Well … not exactly, but it’s important.’
‘This is a shopping quest, isn’t it?’
Annie nodded. Lana didn’t laugh, or even let her eyebrows twitch a little. She knew a shopping quest when she saw one and understood just how important it might be.
‘So, to Greenwich Village – at top speed. In a cab, maybe?’
‘Yes … cab. Definitely.’
* * *
When the cab pulled up outside the familiar looking shopfront, Annie felt a burst of anxiety. Was there really still a chance that The Bag would be here?
She glanced at the shop window, almost hoping to see it hanging in splendour, centre stage. But then again, she also didn’t want it to be there, attracting too much attention and causing someone to snatch it from her now.
She waved the fare at the driver and hurried out of the cab, Lana at her heels. As she opened the door to the shop, they were greeted with a delighted: ‘Hello, and how are you today?’ from the nearest glossy assistant.
‘Hi,’ Annie smiled, but after fleeting eye contact, she began to scan the shop slightly feverishly. Was it here? There was navy, and periwinkle blue, a rich, autumnal burgundy, then browns and blacks, of course. But where was the sea green?
‘Oh!’
There! Over there, from the corner of the store came the flash of green. A perfect blue-green. Not too wintery, not too summery, just exactly perfect for this fashion moment. It would go with red, blue, black, purple – all her favourite colours.
She couldn’t stop herself from hurrying over.
‘Oh look!’ she urged Lana, ‘here it is. Isn’t it absolutely perfect?’
Lana smiled but couldn’t agree wholeheartedly. ‘You know I don’t really get the bag thing,’ she had to admit.
Annie had already taken the bag down from its stand and was ‘trying it on’, holding it this way and that, slipping it over her shoulder and critically assessing its proportions and whether or not they went with hers.
The bag was beautiful, perfect in every way. There was no way now that she’d taxied all the way here that she was going to let it go.
She looked at her reflection in the long mirror. Nothing at all was wrong with the bag. But everything was wrong with her. She had the boobs she’d always wanted, yes, but it was all the other lumps and bumps. For the very first time, she saw something a little too like her mum’s lovely, comfortable, cuddly body staring back at her and she felt far too young for that.
Round cuddly bodies looked good on grannies. They did not look good with beautiful bags, statement shoes and expensive dresses. Plus, she was going to run out of designer sizes soon. Only a handful of proper labels could be found in a SIXTEEN.
Just thinking of the word made prickles of sweat leap out from her skin, despite the chilly air-con.
‘Hi, how are you? Isn’t that bag just soooo fabulous?’
Annie was now in the full glare of the shop assistant who’d stepped out from behind the counter, to reveal a brilliantly thought out blue and white outfit with inspired splashes of orange.
‘I’m loving it,’ Annie agreed, ‘never taking it off.’
Her mobile began to bleat, so she fished it out of the handbag over her other shoulder and looked at the screen. Ed was calling.
For a split second Annie was torn. On the one hand it was Ed and it was always lovely to hear from him: on the other hand, she was in a handbag shop, about to consider a major purchase. Just exactly the kind of purchase Ed would have a fit about.
But then, what if something had happened and he was desperately trying to get hold of her? She pressed answer immediately.
‘Hello! It’s me, is everything OK?’ she asked.
‘Yes, of course. We’re all fine … do you want to say good-night to the babies?’
Good-night? It seemed just too weird to be standing in Greenwich Village, in a handbag shop, in the middle of a blazingly sunny day about to say goodnight to her babies who were going to bed thousands of miles away in London.
While Lana rolled her eyes, Annie listened to the babbling of each baby in turn and felt a very physical longing to have these little people right here in her arms.
‘That was lovely,’ she told Ed, when he was back on the line. ‘It’s not upset them?’
‘No. They seem pleased. It’s not upset you?’
‘It’s totally upset me,’ she confessed, ‘but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Is everything really fine?’
‘Yes!’ Ed assured her. ‘Where are you right now? Paint me a picture.’
Annie glanced about the shop. This wasn’t exactly a picture that Ed would like. If Lana did not get the bag thing, there was definitely no way at all that Ed got the bag thing.
‘But it’s just a bag,’ he would declare every time Annie brought home one of her hand-crafted masterpieces. ‘Men don’t even need them – we have pockets. Don’t you see this is all just a conspiracy to keep women poorer! Every £200 or £300 you squander on those things is lost for ever.’
Every £200 or £300! The poor man had no idea. And anyway, the money wasn’t lost for ever, Annie still had a busy presence on eBay, ‘recycling’ all the beauties she’d grown tired of. Just very occasionally, she still bought a treasure or two on eBay. But you had to be very, very careful who you bought from. There were so many fakes and scams out there.
‘We’ve been up the Empire State today,’ Annie replied, deciding to avoid the question completely. ‘It was amazing. Almost as good as when I went up there with you,’ she added quickly, so as not to leave him out.
‘And now … let me guess? There’s some retail therapy going on?’ Ed asked.
‘Just a tiny little bit. Honestly, considering how fantastic the shops are over here, Lana and I are being unbelievably restrained.’
‘So far.’
The assistant had the sea-green beauty in her hands and was holding it above a stack of tissue paper, gesturing to Annie.
Annie nodded enthusiastically.
‘You work very hard for your money, Annie, don’t let it slip away between your fingers too easily.’
‘Ed,’ she warned.
‘Just not handbags,’ he pleaded, ‘please do not spend any more money on expensive handbags. At the last count, weren’t there—’
‘Ed!’ she warned again.
‘Talking of your hard-earned money, Tamsin phoned …’
‘Did she? What did she say? You didn’t tell her I was over here, did you?’
‘Have you honestly not told her?’
‘Have you?’
‘Well, what did you tell her?’ Ed asked, a little exasperated.
‘I said I was going to be away for a bit … a little trip … I didn’t want her to think I was bailing out or anything. You haven’t told her, have you? Not about the dress business or anything?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Ed admitted. ‘I did say you were in New York, though. But she wasn’t phoning with news, she wanted to let you know that the money had come in for the work you’ve done up till now on the series.’
‘How much?’ Annie wondered.
‘£15,000,’ Ed replied.
‘Wow … I wasn’t expecting that much.’
‘There’s tax, agent commission and all those other things to come out of it,’ Ed reminded her: ‘it won’t be as much as that when everyone’s had their share.’
‘I know, I know … so let’s call it £10,000.’
The tissue paper was going round the bag; the assistant smoothing and folding with as much care as if she was lovingly wrapping a beautiful gift.
‘Ed, do we need that money right now?’ Annie asked next.
‘Well … yeah, we always need the money to keep everything going. Keep the show on the road.’
‘But do we need it right now? This month? Or could it wait just for a month or two?’
‘Depends.’
‘Depends on what?’
‘Depends on what you’re going to do with it.’
‘I’m going to lend it to Elena.’
Silence.
So Annie jumped in with all the reasons why she should make Elena’s business the loan. The order books, the temporary cash-flow situation, the virtual promise of getting the money back quickly – with interest.
Finally Ed said cautiously: ‘Well … it’s your money. If you want to stake it, you can do that. But please, Annie, be aware that you are staking it. You might not get it back.’
‘Svetlana spends that amount of money in a day. She could get it back to me with a click of her fingernails,’ Annie reasoned, ignoring the whole ‘no liquid cash’ and ‘tax’ situation.
‘Maybe you want to take out a contract with Elena, have something in writing?’ Ed suggested.
Annie handed her credit card over to the assistant.
For a little second, she felt an unusual hesitation. If Elena’s business was such a good bet, shouldn’t she try and put some more money into it? Instead of blowing her cash on another bag?
Just a little corner of the green leather poked out from between the sheets of paper.
No. An executive, an investor in an amazing new fashion label, should definitely carry a wonderful new power bag just like this one.
‘Where is it made?’ Lana asked, as they perched at a sidewalk café table, sipping at a celebratory coffee.
‘What? The bag?’
‘Yeah, it’s not actually English, is it? It’s not really made in England.’
‘No. I think a lot of their things are made in Turkey and finished in England.’
Annie’s phone bleeped and she saw she had two messages. One from Owen, the other from Connor.
Mum, can you add the new Twilight film to my list.
It’s just come out on DVD over there. Thanks.
Luv ya. O
Annie replied:
OK missing you. Police or fire dept. T-shirt? Mum xx
Then she opened the message from Connor:
Think I’ve found Gawain. He’s in NYC like you.
She quickly typed back:
Forget it, me not hunting at gay gyms for yr Gawain.
‘Is anything still made in England? Or in the US?’ Lana wondered.
‘I don’t know … it would be interesting to find out. We could do a special programme about …’ Annie tailed off, remembering with a jolt that there might not be any more programmes at all. ‘I need to phone Tamsin – see what’s happening,’ she said, mainly to herself.
‘Weren’t loads of clothes all made in the US once?’ Lana asked. ‘Wasn’t it a huge producer of cotton and cotton clothes, cotton T-shirts, denim? But now, pretty much everything is made in Asia, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. Did you know that cotton jersey, the stretchy stuff, was invented in Jersey? You know, the island off England. And apparently Coco Chanel’s lover wore jersey polo shirts – probably to play polo in – and she loved the stuff so much she ordered bales and bales of it from England to make dresses … and during the first world war, she used cheap grey military fabric she bought in from Spain to make these amazing creations for Parisian ladies.’
Annie and Lana’s eyes met. There was a spark of inspiration there. They both caught it at the same time.
‘Cotton jersey,’ Lana repeated, growing enthusiasm in her voice.
‘Made in the US!’ Annie added, her eyes lighting up.
‘Elena needs to get in some really basic material,’ Lana said, thinking out loud.
‘Yeah,’ Annie agreed immediately. ‘And forget about the cheap Chinese factories. That could be her unique selling point – she could have dresses made in the US of A. Come on, let’s get back to the flat, fire up the laptops and start looking.’