Terry sat with Dawn in the studio whilst she worked on her designs. Jane had gone to bed hours ago. As she worked, Terry took a few photos, asked a few questions, but when she was in the zone, he automatically sensed his time to be silent, watching the expressions on her face as she put together another masterpiece.
It was after 4am, and the room was almost empty. Terry was sat on the wooden bench to the side, writing ferociously into a notepad.
“Terry?” she croaked into the darkened room.
“Yeah?” he replied, looking up and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Why are you still up?”
She saw his smile. “Watching the creative process. And might I say, it’s fascinating.”
“I’m relentless and obsessed. I know. It must be boring as hell.”
“Not at all.”
“Well, anyway, I’m pretty much at a standstill until Jane gets out of bed. I need her measurements.” She stretched out her arms with a yawn.
“Then maybe it’s time you tried to get a little sleep yourself.”
She glanced at the dress. “Actually, I wonder…” She reached for a piece of silk. She laid it on the table. She opened a marker pen and clamped it between her teeth whilst she stretched the material out.
From the corner of her eye, she caught Terry’s head nodding, then springing back up. He was falling asleep. She looked over and smiled before going back to work. Soon she heard a squeak of the door. Jane walked in and scanned the room; she was stepping up on chairs and looking in the corners of the room.
“Everything okay, Jane?” she asked, peering after her.
“Is Charlie around?” Jane whispered.
“He left. I think he got bored around 3am watching Delvin look for his marker pen. I swear that kid spends more time looking for his lost property than he does working.”
Terry got up and flicked the kettle on, then he twisted around.
“Hey, happy birthday, Jane!” he said, taking three mugs from the cupboard, spooning out instant coffee.
“Shhh, forget that. Listen, I need to talk to you both. Have you seen the show they’re making about us?”
“What show?”
“The show.”
“But we haven’t officially started yet, have we?”
“We’re being aired already.”
“What? Nooo.”
“Honestly, my sister reckons they’re making us sound like a bunch of morons.”
“How? Why?”
“Recording, editing and cutting clips of our conversations.”
“No, that can’t be right.”
“Can’t it? You wanna hear what my sister told me?”
“What about?”
“She reckons you and me were arguing. That you were shouting at me, ‘your mother made you what you are.’ I was screaming back, ‘I don’t need you and your designs.’ Another one of you saying, ‘you’re not like the other models. You have to be tiny to be feminine.’”
Dawn’s eyes widened. “What? That’s not what I said.”
“Well, they were the words we used, but they’ve took ’em completely out of context, ain’t they?!”
“And made me sound like a monster.”
“I think they made Delvin look all wrong as well, cus apparently he’s on there, sneaking around at night looking through other people’s drawings and muttering something about winning.”
“He loses everything!” she exclaimed, her eyes boring into Jane.
“I know that. That Miryam woman is on there ’n’ all, apparently arguing with the blue-haired woman.”
“Gloria? I’ve not even heard them argue. They seem to get on great.”
“I know.”
“They aren’t allowed to do that. It’s defamatory.”
“Oh, but they are darlin’, I checked that little non-disclaimer they had us sign. Apparently, anything they air can be cut and edited for…” She put her fingers up and air quoted. “‘Entertainment reasons, as they do so wish.’ Mate, we haven’t got a leg to stand on. Dawn, this is everything I have fought not to become. They’re ruining my reputation.”
“Mine too! This is exactly what he said they’d do.”
“Who?” they both asked.
“Tom Woodley.” She sighed his name. “He told me that Marilyn tries to create drama. He told me not to be dragged into it or it would ruin my career.”
“Great. Thanks for warning us, now it’s too blooming late, ain’t it?”
“But hang on… we have a journo on our side.”
Terry looked over, jingled the spoon into the mug without a word.
“What good’s he gonna do?” she said, with a roll of the eyes.
“Surely you can do something, Terry? Can’t you?”
He lifted the boiling kettle and poured water into the mugs. “I’d love to help, Dawn. I really would. But I can’t see how.”
“No, me neither. If only we could somehow expose the genuine conversations too.”
“I have a camera. But there’s no channel for that. The best thing you can do is act your arses off from now on.”
“Then that’s what we will need to do.”
“And I will keep a full record of all of your conversations in that room from now on, maybe get some others in there too. You never know, maybe one day we will get the chance to expose them ourselves.”
Dawn said, “Anything’s worth a try, Terry.”
He handed them a coffee each, then went over to wipe the surface down before picking up his own. Jane turned to Dawn and looked into her eyes.
“Dawn, it got me thinking about how rude I was to you though.”
Dawn turned to her, surprised by the admission.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry for my behaviour, I…”
Dawn’s face softened. “It’s okay. I think maybe we both did,” she murmured, hugging her coffee mug close to her chest.
Jane put a hand on Dawn’s arm, sending her nerve endings into overdrive. “I’m happy to try your designs. I’m happy to work together amicably. Can we try this again? Please?”
“At this point, I think it’s the only option we have,” she said, facing her. Her eyes studied Jane’s face.
Terry yawned. “Well, if I’m not interrupting anything, I think I’ll go and take a little catnap.”
“Of course. You must be exhausted,” she stuttered.
“I am a bit; I’ll catch up with you both later.”
She watched as he swayed out of the door like a man after whiskey. Jane looked at her, their faces close.
“Hey, I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” she asked, giving Dawn a nudge and a wink.
“With Terry?” Dawn asked, surprised. “God no… don’t talk daft.” She peered over at the closing empty door.
“Well, he certainly seems interested in you.”
She looked back at Jane. “Ha. I think you’re imagining things. He’s just a wee lad. I’d eat him alive.”
“I know a crush when I see one.” Jane grinned. Within seconds, she’d caught a sight in her peripheral vision and her throat hitched. “Hang on a minute. Is that what I think it is?” she gushed.
Dawn nodded proudly. “It’s the dress.”
“Oh, my. It’s beautiful, Dawn. I didn’t know you’d finished it.”
“Oh, it’s nowhere near complete. There are pins all around it holding it into place. I just couldn’t adjust the sizes. This mannequin is way out, so I was waiting to measure you. But… I’m so glad you like it.”
Jane stood and pulled her leg over the box, placing her coffee on the floor. She turned to Dawn. “Like it? Gal, I love it.” She began pulling off her pyjamas. “Let’s get me measured then.”
Dawn’s throat dried up as the clothes dropped in front of her.
“Oh, come on, you ain’t bashful, are ya?” Jane laughed.
Dawn coughed. “Of course I’m not bashful,” she joked, her face getting hotter by the second. Dawn busied herself getting the clothes ready, trying to forget the image of Jane in her underwear that had imprinted on her brain.
***
Jane stood perfectly still. She looked around at the piled pieces of paper, the cut-up materials and sewing machine. She spotted the woman Dawn had helped out on their first meet and greet; she was pleased to see her with her head down, working hard. Maybe Dawn had judged her correctly, or maybe her kindness had been her inspiration, who knew?
She glanced down at Dawn, so kind and calm and currently tugging at the waistband of a bright green tight fitted shimmery skirt. Then she glanced over at the mirror. She had to admit, she looked stunning. Had she made a mistake being so quick to dismiss Dawn? She tried to imagine the reaction of the people who would be watching the show. The celebrities would probably be in their element. But then she thought about the media, the way they’d make her look. And what the newspapers were probably saying about her already, from the show. Her stomach tightened. Dawn was intriguing, not like the other designers she’d met. She was down to earth, her face was a picture of pure concentration. She had a pen hanging from her mouth and her hair was fluffed up at the fringe. But could she trust this woman not to make a fool out of her? If Dawn Lewis was this confident in her own abilities, then why had she blushed at the site of a model removing her clothes? Why had she looked so staggered when they first met? Jane herself felt in awe of Dawn. Yet Dawn acted like it was the other way around.
Dawn stopped and stepped back to look at the skirt proudly. She grabbed her coffee and took a swig, still deep in thought.
“Ooh, would you mind passing mine?” asked Jane with a stretched out arm. Dawn looked startled, as if she had forgotten Jane was even there.
“No,” she said, simply.
“Huh? No, you don’t mind or…?”
Dawn bent down and unpicked a bottom piece of stitch in the skirt. She grabbed a piece of yellow material from the table and brought it over.
“I mean, no. I can’t risk having you get coffee on the clothes. Sorry, you will have to wait.”
She stood silent for a moment. Who was this woman to tell her no?
“But it will go cold,” she whispered, as Dawn gently tucked the silk fabric around her chest. Jane could read the look on Dawn’s face, and she knew she wasn’t getting the coffee. She was absorbed and determined.
“It is what it is,” said Dawn, pulling it tight around her.
Jane looked intentionally perplexed, and Dawn held back a laugh. Jane grinned. Eventually they were both struggling to contain a case of childlike giggles.
Dawn walked away, wiped the tears of laughter from her face and scrambled through a box of accessories.
“What are you looking for?” asked Jane.
“I don’t think the bustier is tight enough to really make the skirt have a massive impact. Maybe I should have used a tighter material than silk.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think I’m going to try a string, cut out a piece in the back and use it to pull the bustier in, to tighten it.”
“It already looks effective to me.”
“We’re going bigger here, Jane,” she said, pulling a piece of string from the box. “You know, I always wanted to do a dress like this in the past. I just never thought the world was ready for the peacock look.”
She went over, pulling at the bustier; Jane felt her rib cage as it was yanked to submission.
“And I’m glad I waited, because now is just the perfect time to make our statement. And you are the perfect model for it. Right, take it off. I need to stitch the string in.”
Jane removed it. “It’s really pretty.” She exhaled.
“Well, pretty won’t cut it. We’re going for spectacular,” she marvelled, picking up the scissors and hacking into the bustier. Jane strolled around the room, pulling a plain t-shirt on over her head. She peered out of the window into the darkness as she stretched out her arms.
“Here, come help. You can choose where you want the opening.”
She turned and obeyed, wanting to be involved in the process.
They stitched in the string together, adding material, creating a bigger gap. It was still dark outside when Delvin walked in.
“Heyyy, ladies. Looking good,” he said, eyeing the dress with a smile.
“Hi, Delvin.” They both smiled back at him.
Miryam came in next and got straight to work. Neither of them had noticed the sun beginning to rise outside.
Before long, Terry entered the room, humming to himself. He was dressed in khaki trousers with a utility shirt; he was looking a little fresher. His hair was, however, standing on end, and he was biting into some kind of weird, packaged meat. Dawn was crouched over the sewing machine; Jane was sitting back, sewing. She glanced up at the clock. It was 7am, there was light streaming in through the window.
“Wow, I can’t believe we’ve been working on this all night,” she said, waking from a fog. Dawn looked up from the machine. Her eyes were red, her hair was standing on end. Jane thought how sweet she looked, all sleepy and confused. Her eyes ran over her face and stopped on her full lips. For a moment she wondered how it would feel to kiss Dawn, how it would feel to nibble her bottom lip and how her skin would feel against her own.
She blinked and widened her sleepy eyes. A sudden realisation of her thoughts, she wanted to lift her shoulders to relieve the feeling of pressure building in her chest. But she realised that Terry was watching her. He was watching her, watching Dawn, a look of scrutiny in his eyes. She felt self-conscious.
Terry turned away. He glanced around the studio, his eyes wandering amongst the fabric slung over the chairs and mannequins and even the sewing machine and at the enormous pile of long black feathers.
“So, I see,” he said with a smile.
She noticed his eyes widen in surprise at the designs that Dawn had almost completed.
“How did you come up with these details in such a short space of time?” he asked.
She wondered if he’d read her mind. If he was covering it up. Or if he genuinely admired Dawn the way he seemed to.
“It’s what I do,” Dawn said simply.
Jane watched as they smiled at each other. Was there something there between them?
“Plus, I’ve had help. I don’t know what I would have done without Jane if I’m honest,” she said, clamping a bunch of feather stalks between her teeth.
He looked at Jane and smiled. “Well, you’ve both done amazingly. Why don’t you get an hour of shut-eye, and come back to it when you’re feeling fresh?”
Dawn spoke to him through gritted teeth. “See, if you knew me, Terry.” Pause. “You would know that.” Pause. “I don’t. And evidently can’t… settle… until I complete the task at hand.”
“If it helps, I can stitch,” he offered.
She stopped what she was doing then and looked at him, removing the feather from her mouth.
“You? You can stitch?”
“I can. My mum was a leader of the local Girl Guides. I used to go along and help out.”
Dawn laughed. “Well, as reassuring as your Girl Guide experience is, I’ve got to say I’d rather not risk it.”
“I’ll have you know I was a talented seamstress. And I promise I will do my best to serve my queen and community,” he said with a grin.
Dawn clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes widened. “You seriously memorised the Girl Guide motto?” she whispered.
“I didn’t memorise it, I heard it constantly,” he whined.
“You are such a geek.” She grinned. “And don’t think I don’t trust you, but I’m funny about who touches my designs. They are my pride and joy. Especially when we only have fifteen hours until the show.”
Terry coughed the words, “Control freak,” and she widened her eyes at him again with a grin.
Jane smiled and stretched out her arms. “Well, I for one am bloody knackered, mate. But we’re getting there ain’t we, Dawny?”
Dawn nodded as Jane’s eyes softly swept over her.
Terry stood up. “Maybe I can make myself useful another way. Would either of you like coffee?”
“Would I, heck. We left my last one to go stone cold,” she said, eyeing Dawn. Dawn looked back at her, needle poised in front of her, and she smirked. Terry gave them an incredulous look, then walked out of the room with a shake of the head.
“Are you ready to try this one on now? I think we’re almost there.”
She finished the last stitch, then popped the needle into a pin cushion that was balanced precariously on the edge of the table amongst everything else. Then she held out the dress for Jane to see.
“Dawn,” she gasped. “I love how you’ve transformed that back section. It’s flipping gorgeous. Do you think it will look good on me?”
“No,” she replied, absently smoothing it down with flat palms. Jane stripped off again and she peered over at her, puzzled. Their eyes met and Dawn paused. “I don’t think it will look good on you, I think it will look stunning on you. You’ll be the most beautiful woman in the room.”
Jane gulped, her stomach whirling with nerves as their eyes locked.
Dawn’s eyes widened; she quickly looked away. “And you should be, too. You’re gorgeous and I’m talented,” she said, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes.
Jane laughed. “Well, there are lots of other gorgeous, talented people here too, funnily enough,” she said, climbing into the dress. They both stood silently for a moment, marvelling at how the dress hugged her body.
Jane looked around. Charlie was pointing his camera at Miryam, who was ripping up a design with tears streaming down her face.
Dawn turned back to Jane. “Okay, take it off,” she said quickly. “I don’t want it spoilt. Can you try the playsuit on too?”
Jane nodded, and Dawn helped her out of the dress. Then she went over to Miryam.
***
“Everything okay?”
Miryam looked at her. “It’s no good,” she balled.
Dawn glanced over the A-line brown, flowered dress.
“It’s got potential,” Dawn murmured. “But crinoline makes it a little stiff and works better in layers. How about putting a couple of layers over the top, like this?” she said, layering a piece of material over and pinning it on. “Then adding a part here on the opposite side, so that it opens in with a fold in the middle when she walks. And if you wanted, you could put a dash of colour inside that’s only seen when the model strides along the catwalk. Maybe something bright, or even shimmery for the club lights.”
Miryam’s tears had stained her cheeks as she watched in awe. Charlie was now over the other side of the room watching another woman complaining that her model was missing.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Miryam gasped. “You’re the best.”
“No problem.”
She made her way back over to where Jane was standing in front of the mirror in the playsuit, watching.
“Sorry, Miryam looked a little desperate there.”
Jane grinned. Dawn bent down and pulled the playsuit in at the waist and began her process of pin gripping all the way around.
“This is a little baggy around the bum. I better take it in.”
“That was really nice,” commented Jane. “Helping the competition like that.”
“We’ve all been there before,” she said.
“It was still nice.”
“A little birdy told me you’re planning on retiring soon. Is it true?”
“Yeah, I don’t want to outstay my welcome. I wanna explore myself a little more. You know what I mean?”
“Absolutely. Do you think you’ll miss all this if you leave?”
“What, the last minute panics, bitchy competition and judgmental media? Hmmm.”
“Oh, come on. There’s more to it than all that and you know it.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll miss the buzz of it all. I’ll miss the money. And a lot of the friends I’ve made along the way, too. I’ll miss the labels, being ahead of the fashion curve and, of course, the champagne.”
Dawn laughed. “So, what will you do next?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t have a plan exactly. My husband’s a solicitor.” She felt self-conscious suddenly, speaking about her husband to Dawn. It was like they were from different planets. “He’s very career-minded,” she stuttered. “I have enough savings to see me through, but I know I won’t settle. I’ve thought about volunteering, I’ve got an interest in politics, maybe now I could even study some more.”
“Well, that is a fantastic sign.”
“What is?”
“You’re already thinking what could be beyond all of this,” she said, waving her hands in the air. “You’re seeing a future.” She smiled enthusiastically and dropped the playsuit to Jane’s feet.
“I suppose I am,” she replied, lifting her toes out carefully.
“You know, I never realised you were married. How did I not know that?”
Jane looked surprised. “Yeah. Ten years. I’m just a really private person.” She pulled at her leggings, then sat down, legs wide, t-shirt scrunched up in a ball between her hands. She stared into space. “I never thought I’d get so far, you know,” she said, turning to look at Dawn. “I used to have so much self-doubt. I’d cry in the toilet every time I didn’t get picked for a show. But you can’t have them all, can ya? I know now, I suppose.”
Dawn turned to face her. Jane’s hair had fallen over her right eye.
“But now…”
“What?” Dawn asked, leaning forwards.
“I suppose I just thought we would reach the mountain top together, James and me. I fink naively, I believed that maybe we’d have a few kids by now, something to bond us together, you know what I mean?”
Dawn hung the dress and wrapped it, then held onto the playsuit. “Well, I have three kids, Jane, and it didn’t stop my husband from sleeping with half of Leicester behind my back.”
“Oh, I remember something about that splashed all over the papers. I’m so sorry, Dawn.”
“I’m over it. To be honest, the romance was never really there for us.” She stood with the playsuit under her folded arms. “We just kind of got on with each other. I was always at work, whilst he was always at home. The most it hurt was my ego.”
“How old are your kids now?”
“My youngest boy is nine, then I have a son who is fifteen and a daughter who is sixteen.”
“Sounds like a handful.”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spent enough time with any of them. They are wonderful human beings, but the credit must go to their dad. He’s a fantastic father.”
“What do they think of your career? The teens must love it.”
“I think it’s just part of life for them now. Each of the kids has been to fashion week at some point in their lives. My youngest, Troy, loves it and asks to come every year. Sometimes I take him. My PA Angie is good with him, she gets him doing fun activities whilst I’m busy. Actually, Troy would have been here this year, but he went away with the Scouts last week.”
“It sounds to me like you don’t give yourself enough credit, darlin’.”
“Well… I don’t know about that.” She straightened and walked back a step. Terry walked in with a tray of coffee and croissants.
“Brekky time,” he announced.
“Oh, no, not for me, Terry. I’ve already eaten more than I should have,” Jane called back, holding her flat tummy like it was a watermelon.
“On this occasion, I’m afraid I must agree with Jane. I just finished fitting her, there’s no room for fluctuations now.”