‘She looks like she has a terminal disease,’ Gramps announced, in case anyone needed clarity on the matter.
I felt as if dropping dead in the middle of the hall would be preferable to showing someone the costume they were going to wear on stage in front of hundreds of people.
Why did I volunteer for this? I asked my stomach as it churned like a washing machine.
I wasn’t a designer, like Shay, or a creator, like Kieran. Did I honestly think that somehow their skills and talents would rub off on me? We’d all learned to sew together, as we’d customised bags and hats and scarves, even made jackets and T-shirts in those early days. There was a reason I’d swiftly retreated to the business side of things.
There was a reason they’d so easily let me go.
Here I was, a hanger-on in a fashion company, a second-hand seamstress, about to utterly humiliate myself. These people really cared about this concert. It was their big Christmas opportunity to bless the community, and Miss Ex-Director had gatecrashed a lunch meeting and inserted herself into none-of-her-business because she was trying to prove some stupid point about not being a useless waste of space to no one who cared.
I ran to the toilet, threw up my breakfast, splashed some cold water on my face, and tried to tell myself what Shay and Kieran would say.
Would have said. Before they stopped speaking to me.
‘I can do this,’ I whispered in the bathroom mirror, my voice quaking. ‘Rosie loves the zebra bag. Beckett thought my decorations were incredible. What’s the worst that can happen?’ I stopped, a bubble of semi-hysterical laughter spurting out. ‘Mary Whittington, you have faced far more difficult situations than the humiliation of letting an entire church and surrounding community down. Get some damn perspective. Princess Santa has seen your nether regions, for pity’s sake.’
23
BECKETT
Mary’s creations were spectacular. Seeing them draped over the kitchen chair or whizzing through the sewing machine, Beckett could tell they were works of art. When Angel Santa opened the door to the office and let him and Sofia have a look, Beckett could have burst with pride. He’d seen from the old costumes that the usual standard was, well, community carol service. The outfit would have befitted a West End show.
‘She hates it.’ Mary wrung her hands, face stricken as she cowered in the corner of the room. ‘It’s too flimsy, too plain. Too…’ She glanced at Beckett, eyes frantic, voice lowering to a hoarse whisper. ‘I thought it looked okay.’
‘What?’ Yara spun around. ‘These are tears of wonder, Mary. This is the nicest thing I’ve worn since my wedding dress. If I ever get married again, I will literally wear this.’
‘Really?’
‘Wowsers!’ Sofia gasped. ‘This is what you call “not too bad at sewing”? I can’t wait to see something you’re actually good at.’
‘It’s been a while. I wasn’t sure if I’d gone rusty.’
‘How did you even come up with this whole layered effect? The way the skirt shimmers?’
‘I did a whole Midsummer Night’s Dream thing once…’
‘What exactly was your job, before this?’ Sofia asked, planting both hands on her pinafored hips.
‘Didn’t that ethical company who recycles everything do a Midsummer Night’s Dream range?’ Yara’s eyes narrowed as she stroked the glitter on her bodice. ‘The one whose floppy hats were at all the festivals a couple of years ago?’
‘ShayKi?’ Sofia asked.
‘Yes! That’s it. I bought my sister a Titania scarf. That’s what this reminded me of. Oh, my goodness, Mary. Do you work for ShayKi? Do you get a discount?’
Mary looked like a cornered vole. ‘No, I don’t work for ShayKi or anywhere else at the moment. If I did, I’d have mentioned it when I offered to help with the concert. I spent a few years helping customise clothes for my friend’s market stall back when I was at college. Should we get Bill in to try his costume? We haven’t got loads of time.’
Sofia gave Mary a thoughtful glance before going to find Bill. Beckett waited in the foyer while Mary helped Yara back out of her costume. He’d bought Rebecca a ShayKi bag once. Mary might not work for them at the moment, but how many ethical accessory companies were there in the UK? If she’d founded a fashion business big enough for him to have heard of it, that explained the incredible designs.
‘I kind of wish I’d not tried so hard now,’ Mary said once she’d packed away Roman Santa’s outfit and Beckett had driven them to Costa for lunch. ‘I didn’t expect it to generate all those questions.’
Yara hadn’t been the only one grilling Mary about her dressmaking skills.
‘It’s a fairly obvious conversation, considering your level of talent. People are going to ask what you do for a living at some point. Will it really make that much of a difference once they know? Sofia doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to judge someone by their job title.’
Mary took a desultory bite of her panini. ‘I’m trying to move on from all that.’
‘I’d noticed. This isn’t just about them knowing you were a big boss, is it?’
