Blue and Green Should Never be Seen! (Or so Mother says) Read online

  “Not that I know of – why?”

  “There must be a reason for that!”

  That sealed it. End of conversation. I was exploring uncharted territories and that was the suggestion I got. Don’t go there, because nobody before has done what you’re trying to do. If that was correct reasoning we wouldn’t have discovered America or sent people to the moon, or invented anything at all.

  “OK, Mum: I’ve got to go.”

  “Sure, take care. Ta-ta.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Ritchie appeared in the office a few days afterward, sheepish and embarrassed. He sat at his desk, but didn’t do anything – just sat staring at the computer screen, not typing or browsing the internet, or even playing solitaire. I would have said something, but I was in the middle of trading my stuff and frankly I wasn’t in the mood for talking.

  He approached me half an hour later.

  “GiGi, I know we’re in trouble but things are going well with Jonathan, and I’m frightened by what we’re going through. I think I need some stability.”

  “I know, Ritchie. He’s a great guy.” I answered, trying not to show my emotions.

  “He is. The fact is, I need to be able to count on a regular income, if we want to buy a house and live together. You know me; I wouldn’t accept him sustaining me while we’re struggling with this business …”

  “No need to explain. Do you want to leave?” Tears were just a second away: talk a bit more, GiGi, and you can put the Dambusters to shame. Flooding in south of England; the government suggests you put sandbags around your house and do not exit unless strictly necessary, maybe in a boat.

  “I … Yes, I think I need to have something more … permanent. I mean, not that this was not permanent, but …” No need to explain my friend; I know it’s been a rollercoaster, with good fun but also scary moments. I can’t blame you if you want a regular income.

  “Ritchie, it’s fine. Come on, don’t get emotional; I’ll cope.”

  “I …”

  “I had some money put away, I can still pay your salary and your notice,” I lied.

  “Are you sure? You told me …” – a light of hope was in his eyes, but I had to turn it off before he reconsidered.

  “Not to carry on. I’ll probably have to give away this fancy office. And if you have to travel back to Berkshire, now that you’re settling here, it wouldn’t be worth it.”

  “Oh, GiGi …”

  “Here.” I handed him a letter with a cheque “It’s what is due, plus your share of the bonus.”

  “GiGi …”

  “I can give you a reference anytime you want. Oh, and pick up a list of our vendors, I guess you might want to see if they have a job for you.”

  “How can I thank you? I feel so guilty leaving you like this.” Now he was the one starting to snivel, and if he stayed a bit longer we were going to do our own remake of the Bridges of Madison County.

  “Don’t. We had a good ride. Find a decent job and if you need a reference, just let me know.”

  We hugged and sobbed and then he left, leaving me alone in the office, not sure about what I would do next.

  My savings were gone, I had a big hole in my finances and not a prospect or a contract; eBay was so slow and this business was progressing like a one-legged man in a kickass contest.

  Maybe I should have called in some favours, calling some old customers and … and what? I had already sorted them out. Unless … unless I started a new program, a review, checking out how were they doing (for a small fee) and correcting any mistakes – a sort of sponsor like the ones in the AA, to keep them sober from bad clothing and unmatched garments.

  Maybe there was something there. Through the years I’d accumulated a considerable number of names and many of those were not repeat customers. My business was to always count on fresh blood, new people to help: but what about my customer base; all those that had already benefited from my services? They knew me, they knew how I worked. It was worth a try, but not today, I had enough emotion on my plate.

  I left the office and started wandering the streets; I don’t know how long I walked. I spent most of the time going around Battersea Park, which had been, in the past, a favourite spot for duelling. If I only knew who my enemy was, I could fight, I could find countermeasures in order to protect myself, the people around me and my own business. But something was eluding me; there was something that I knew I hadn’t nailed yet. The model was sound, the customers were happy (well, except for one), but money wasn’t pouring in. We just got by and we couldn’t upscale. I almost forgot that Ritchie was out of the picture, so “I couldn’t upscale the business”. I wasn’t too upset with him; after all, he had to think about his future and this was my own vocation. But not having him around made things even more difficult: no more chats, no more support or a shoulder to cry on.

  There were a few people walking around, couples probably in love, mothers with their children and a few bystanders sitting on the grass. I kept walking and soon enough I crossed the bridge in the general direction of Knightsbridge; maybe I should have gone to Harrods and tried to cheer myself up a bit. Instead, I turned right into Eaton Square and continued until I reached Buckingham Palace. It was almost lunchtime and I had a friend working there (No, not That one: an employee) and maybe she’d be free to grab a quick lunch with me.

  “Lillian?” I asked when she answered the phone. You never know who’s going to answer when you call Buckingham Palace.

  “Is it you, GiGi?”

  “Yeah, I was in the area and I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me.”

  It was a long shot and I didn’t know if she was even at work, so I kept walking.

  “Gimme ten minutes and I’ll be outside. Do you remember where?”

  I did and I told her. I was already there, so I spent some time doing tourist spotting. The police officer on duty, the tallest man I’ve ever seen in my life, started getting interested. After all, I wasn’t moving like all the others: just standing there, looking suspicious. He probably thought I was trying to sneak in without being noticed. Eventually Lillian came out; she made a gesture as if to say, “It’s OK, she’s with me” and she kissed me on the cheeks.

  “How long has it been, four months?” she asked, while we walked off in the direction of her favourite restaurant. We always went to a little Italian one just two blocks away, which I loved, by the way.

  “Yes; last time we met was the dinner at my place, remember? How’s Tom?”

  “Oh, he’s fine. He’s still a locum and we’re going to move in together next week.”

  “House-warming party, when?” I asked.

  “It’s going to be more of a house-painting party. The house is a mess, so we were seriously thinking of inviting people to help with decorating. Are you in? We provide the beers.” She laughed, but I knew money was tight and every bit of help would be welcome.

  “Why not? Do I have the choice of colours?”

  “Yeah, magnolia or magnolia. Just kidding; we haven’t decided yet.” We reached the restaurant and a young woman showed us our table, which I’d booked while I was still walking towards the palace. Tom and Lillian had been together for almost a year and they were made for each other. He was a young lawyer and a good friend of Helena’s. I met the couple a few years back and immediately clicked with Lillian. Since then we had always kept in touch, and when we couldn’t meet in person we exchanged messages on Facebook.

  “So, how’s the business?” she asked, “Still trying to save the world from bad fashion?”

  “Sort of, but we got some bad news recently from a client who won’t pay.”

  What are you doing, GiGi? I said to myself. Did you walk all these miles just to complain and talk about your misfortune? You’re better than that. Everybody has issues, but that doesn’t really mean you have to afflict all your friends with yours. Come on, get a grip: head up, straighten your shoulders and, most of all, don’t cry.

  “Do you need Tom’s
help?” she volunteered.

  Tom was a great person and surely he would have made a stink if he knew what had happened, but I wasn’t looking for revenge or to be paid. It was my decision.

  “No, I’m fine. Just a bit sad because Ritchie left.” That was a euphemism; actually I was shattered.

  “I can’t believe that. You two were inseparable.” She was really surprised, and so was I. She put the menu down and looked me straight in the eye, waiting for some further comments that I didn’t have.

  “I know, but we’re broke and he needs to think about his future as well. It’s understandable, with his new boyfriend and the rest.”

  “Ritchie is finally settling down? I can’t believe it. GiGi, we have to get in touch more often. So what will you do?”

  “I’ve got a couple of ideas that I want to explore.” I answered, knowing very well it was a lie. I just had one, and it was untested. Our lunch arrived and for once I ordered a beer with it; an orange juice just wouldn’t do.

  “Are you seeing someone?” asked Lillian, while attacking her sea-bream and potatoes.

  “There’s this Jasper guy I’m seeing, but nothing has happened yet. He’s a big cheese in fashion, and he offered me a job also.” While I was saying it, I realised I’d never thought of what I was going to do next with him. I was attracted to Jasper, but at the same time I had this gut feeling that something wasn’t right.

  “Are you taking it?”

  “Nah, I want my independence. But it caused attrition with Ritchie.” I told her the full story, including the fact that Jasper didn’t want him and my refusal because of that. She knew already how much I did for the firm and for Ritchie.

  “Well, if it doesn’t work out, we have a backup: this nice young chef. He was Tom’s client in a dispute over a restaurant here in London. We ended up being friends. He’ll be at the house-warming party. GiGi, if I wasn’t happily married I’d be all over him like a rash. I actually dreamed he was cuddling me last night; he’s a sort of Hugh Jackman, just sexier.”

  “That’s hard to believe.” She knew I’d always had a crush on Hugh, ever since I first saw him in Paperback Hero. I was wondering if she was just teasing me or what.

  “You never told me when the house-warming party is.”

  “Oh, next Friday evening. Dinner, sleeping on the floor and then from Saturday morning it‘s going to be a painting job. Bring an inflatable mattress. We want to get ready before the furniture starts arriving the following week.”

  At that point, my phone rang. It was Jasper. I signalled to Lillian that it was him, I excused myself and went outside the restaurant to take the call. He invited me for dinner that very evening; apparently, he’d booked a restaurant – one of the fancy Michelin-starred ones in Mayfair and he wanted me to be there. I said “yes” and we agreed that he’d pick me up at the office. Great! I still had mixed feelings about him and I wasn’t sure if going out would actually be a good idea.

  We finished lunch with the promise of meeting up during the weekend, after I’d extorted from her the promise of lending me some “painting clothes”. I was usually a mess on those sorts of things and no way was I going to ruin mine.

  CHAPTER 20

  After lunch I had to run home to get changed.

  Home.

  It wasn’t yet home; I’d left my apartment in Berkshire two months previously and was renting one in London, so I could be closer to the office. At that time it had seemed a good idea. After a quick shower it was time to get ready. I put some music on, and started thinking about what to wear for the evening. I didn’t want to be too elegant, or let him think I was wearing something too special just for him. After a quick analysis (I didn’t need my app) I settled for a pair of Levi’s leggings in camo, a pair of high-heeled black shoes, a multi-coloured top by Belle Sauvage and a Lug Von Siga black jacket. Everything was already listed on eBay and the clock was ticking, but I wanted to wear the outfit one last time before the painful goodbye, which for some items would be the following day. Oh well, never mind, I thought; I’ll be able to rebuild my clothing empire one of these days.

  I drank some milk from the fridge, directly from the container, and I was ready to go.

  Jasper was already at my office, waiting in his car, when I arrived.

  “So, tomorrow’s the big day,” I mentioned, after he’d kissed me on the cheek. “Don’t you have things to do, like last-minute checking or something like that?” I remembered when Ritchie and I had opened the office in London, neither of us had been able to sleep for a week, and we spent the night before in the office, checking that everything was in order for our guests the following day. We both crashed on the sofas at three in the morning, just to get up with backache and looking like Zombies.

  “I have people taking care of the details,” he answered. “That’s the advantage of being the Boss. If you worked for me, probably you would be in the shop by now.”

  We chatted a bit about the opening; he described the layout they had chosen (I made a mental note that he hadn’t actually invited me to see the work in progress), and by then we had reached the restaurant.

  It was a nice building in Mayfair, not too far from Oxford Street. The restaurant inside was buzzing with people and the environment was very elegant, although maybe a bit too modern for my taste. We sat by a window and soon a waiter came by asking what we wanted to drink. Jasper chose a bottle of red wine that I’d never heard of, and we both settled for the tasting menu. Big mistake!!

  I soon realised that, with ten tasting dishes, there was no room left for actually talking and enjoying the evening. I would start to say something and “bing” – the waiter appeared with the first course. He followed it with a detailed explanation of every single ingredient (apparently, they don’t give a name to dishes any more) and how the cook prepared it. I wanted to ask where they were sourcing their products, just for fun, but then thought otherwise. He could have answered.

  I had just put a bite in my mouth, when the same guy came back and asked if everything was OK. “Yef, very goof. Fhenk you,” I tried to answer, while still chewing. Sometimes I think they do it on purpose, for spite. And the same happened for every single one of the ten courses. Of course, being a very buzzy restaurant, we also got the occasional visit from other waiters passing by, who also decided to ask “Is everything OK?” just to be sure. Politeness prevented us from saying what we really thought!

  The dinner was a disaster. Tasty indeed, but, I would have liked to have the chance of saying something to Jasper without being interrupted. When they finally asked if we wanted a coffee, I took the chance and asked for the bill. Can someone get me out of here?

  “Want to come to my place?” asked Jasper when we finally left and reached the car.

  “That would be nice. You don’t have waiters at your place, right?”

  “Ha, ha, ha. No, I promise. They were a bit persistent, weren’t they?”

  “Persistent? They were like trained pit bulls; they should work as slaves in an S/M shop.”

  “Yeah, that was a bit excessive. But they were doing their job. Some people like to be pampered, you know?” he said.

  “Can you drive?” I asked

  “Yeah; maybe you don’t remember, but I just had one glass – you supped all the rest.”

  Dear Jasper, if you’d had had a day like mine, you would sup a bottle as well, I thought. His place was a nice detached property, not too far from where we’d eaten, which made me wonder why we didn’t just walk. We entered and I got a sort of déjà vu. Same style as Paula – maybe she had a job as interior decorator. Very similar paintings were on the walls, the furniture all adjusted nicely and with grace. This was not the crash pad of a divorced man; there was too much attention to the detail.

  I didn’t comment and went straight to the sofa, took my shoes off to get comfy, and couldn’t have cared less if he agreed with my doing that or not.

  “Want some more wine?” he asked.

  “That would be nice
; I have actually had a bad day.” He went into the kitchen and came back with a couple of glasses in one hand and a bottle of red in the other. He poured the wine and passed me a glass. We clinked glasses, even if in reality I had very little reason to cheer, and I took a sip of mine. It was a Burgundy; that was as far as I could go with wines, and it was tasty and rich. Just like the chap sitting at my side.

  “So, what happened today? What made you so grumpy?” he pressed.

  “Oh, nothing special. First, I agreed to pay back your ex-wife, and then Ritchie walked out of the door to find a new job. I have half of my stuff on eBay and I don’t know what I should do next. Is that enough?” I wasn’t grumpy, although I wasn’t a happy bunny either. Why should I be?

  “I didn’t know about Ritchie. You can still come and work for my department store. We could use some of your ideas,” he said.

  I thought about that for long enough. Ritchie or not, I wanted my independence, the freedom of what I was doing and most of all, to make friends and build a reputation. It was not all about money and selling stuff. The most important thing was to connect with people and make them feel better about themselves. I doubted he could offer me that in his mall.

  “With all the buttons you can push, you keep insisting on the same one.” I teased him.

  “Well, it is a nice one,” he said. I moved closer, sipped a bit more wine and looked at his eyes. They were dark, intense and direct, the sort that make you feel uncomfortable, charmed you – or the kind that make you feel naked, which I preferred much more as an analogy at that point.

  He rested his arm on the back of the sofa and his hand was right near my shoulder; his fingers started playing with my hair. Come on, Jasper, I thought: kiss me!

  He rested his glass on the little table by the sofa and got closer. No need to spend any more time talking. I had imagined many times where and when we would kiss, and every time it was different in my dreams. I imagined walking among the streets of London with him, hand in hand, when he would suddenly stop and kiss me. Or a classical one: on my doorstep, once he had dropped me home from a long night out (I know, a bit of a cliché, but I can be romantic, you know?).