Page 219 of Falling for You
Joy spreads through my chest and I throw my arms around Pam’s neck.
‘Pam!’ I cry. ‘That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! Although,’ I add, letting her go, ‘I don’t know how I’ll survive without you for a year.’
She laughs. ‘I think you’ll be great.’ I smile, flicking onthe coffee machine. ‘And actually, Annie …’ she continues. ‘That’s something I want to talk to you about.’
I turn back to face her. ‘Yeah?’
‘Well, the plan is for us to be gone for a year … but I’m going to need someone to take my place while I’m away. And I want to make sure that the right person is here to run it.’
I look at her, my stomach flipping.
Is she about to …
‘I’d like you to be the acting CEO.’
I run my fingers along the waterfall of fabric. Satins of pearly pink; deep purple; glistening, royal gold. I want to scoop them all up under my arm and take them. Make a dress out of all of them, make a hundred dresses and skirts and jackets.
I always find myself here when I’m stressed. When I moved to London ten years ago, I flitted between fabric shops like a student on a pub crawl, but I ended up gravitating towards this one. When I was a teenager and had just started to make my own clothes, I’d wander into town after school and spend twenty minutes or so admiring each piece in the local fabric shop. Pulling it between my fingers or seeing how it would fall if I wrapped it around my arm. Sometimes Mum would call me and then meet me there. We’d pick a fabric out together and take it home to add to our collection. Our spare bedroom turned into an Aladdin’s cave. I loved it.
It’s special to me, but as I got older I realised that everyone has one of these places. Whether it be the silence and comfort of a library, surrounded by books and corners you can hide in; the chink of cups and the crisp smell of coffee in the hubbubof a coffee shop; or a walk through a park, where the leaves curl and flex throughout the year, dogs leaping after balls and children running with their arms flailing behind them. Everyone has their own version of their safe space, the place they go when everything feels a bit too much. And a fabric shop is mine, so here I am.
It’s fairly near Nate’s flat, but I don’t care. There is no way he’d come in here, and even if he did, my mind has been replaced with cotton wool. I don’t know if I’d even manage to string a sentence together.
My heart burns at the thought of him and I scrunch my eyes, turning to the streams of ribbons floating down from a wooden pole.
I lied to Nate before. I do believe in the universe. Not in the Disney way Nate seemed to, but I do believe that everything happens for a reason. When Tanya and Penny told me that they were moving out and I realised I would also have to move, and I wouldn’t be able to afford to live by myself which meant that I’d have to house-share with strangers, I panicked. It felt like my life was being turned upside downwithout my consent. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You never get the chance to agree to your life being turned upside down, otherwise you’d never do anything that scared you.
Anyway, when Pam offered me the chance to head the company while she was away, it felt a bit like the universe was offering me a hand. I could take it, I could earn enough money to live in my own flat, maybe even buy somewhere someday. I could stand on my own two feet, properly. Just like Penny and Tanya, I could have a new adventure. ButI know if I did that, then I’d have to let go of my dream of making costumes full-time. I couldn’t do both, and if I was running the company, I wouldn’t even have the time to take on any commissions. I’d have to let it go, have it as a hobby I could do on a quiet weekend.
My eyes turn to the rows of brightly coloured wool. All squashed together and squeezed into little cubbyholes. I start looking at the saffron yellow, tangerine orange and azure blue, imagining the loud jumper I could knit, weaving all those colours together.
Pam said she didn’t want an answer from me straight away and told me to take my time. It took a lot for me not to be the helpful, good girl I’ve always been and agree to take the job on just because it was what Pam wanted and I am nothing if not a teacher’s pet. But Pam shooed me out of the office and told me to take the rest of the day off, probably worried I’d blurt an answer without thinking about it. She knows me too well.
I haven’t told anyone yet. Normally, the first thing I do when I hear good news is call my parents and then run to the shop, grab a bottle of prosecco and race home to tell the girls. But I can’t yet. I need to make sense of the hot, scary emotions that are snaking around my body first. I need to line them up and work out why each emotion is there and what it’s supposed to be doing. At the moment, it just feels as if they’re all coiling around my organs and pulling everything too tight.
‘Can I help with anything?’
I look round and see Jade. Even though I come in here alot, we’ve never pushed past the customer/staff barrier and into friendship. Which is a shame – she has a fantastic fashion sense. To be fair, it’s not very often I come in here like I have today, aimlessly wandering around the shop admiring everything. Normally, I’m a woman on a mission, darting in between appointments or on my way home from work.
‘Yeah,’ I smile at her. ‘I’m just browsing, thank you.’
She nods, and I’m about to ask her how her day is going when the door crashes open. The bell, which usually tinkles gently when someone enters, jangles manically as a whirlwind of a person falls into the shop and clatters towards the counter.
‘Jade!’ they gasp in an odd mix of American and cockney. ‘I need your help.’
There’s a loud thud as the man throws his bag onto the counter. I peer over from behind the rail. He’s tall, towering over six foot with bleached blonde hair and an oversized bomber jacket – he’s the guy who came crashing into the shop last time I was here.
‘It’s ripped!’ he cries, pulling out a garment and showing Jade. ‘It’s worse than ripped, it’sfucked! I’ve got a show tomorrow night and I need this dress!’
I watch Jade examine it, her face pained. I get the impression that she gets this a lot.
‘Tomorrow?’ she repeats incredulously. ‘Stevie, I can’t. I’ve got to run the shop today. It’s just me here and I’ve got commissions tonight.’
‘Please!’ Stevie begs. ‘Jade, I’ll do anything!’
‘I can help.’
The man’s head snaps round at me, his eyes wide. I see his eyes flicker, as if he’s about to ask me who I am, but then desperation takes over.
