‘What do you mean? You don’t think he’ll be back to ask me again?’
‘No. I’ve managed to distract him a little more permanently.’
‘Mel, you’re the best friend ever! How have you managed to do that? Did you tell him I have a personality disorder, or that I’m gay?’ I’m in fits of giggles at my own ready-made excuses.
‘Soph, can you be serious for a minute?’
I stop laughing abruptly; this is most unlike Mel.
‘The thing is… I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’ve agreed to move in with him.’
There’s a prolonged silence where, if we had one, you would have only been able to hear a clock ticking or if, for some bizarre reason, we were living in a desert, just the tumbleweeds blowing across empty sand.
‘You what?’ No-one in their right mind would want to move in with Rob, he’s hard enough to put up with for half an hour, let alone a day or more. ‘Why would you do that? I mean, I didn’t know you like him.’ I try to be tactful, but it’s proving difficult.
‘I don’t,’ Mel replies shortly. ‘Though why do you think just because a guy isn’t successful with you, he won’t get lucky with the next girl?’
‘Yes, but oh my God, Mel. This reminds me of the guy at uni who used to go round asking randomly “Do you want a f***” and in the end got lucky. You’re that poor misguided individual who said yes.’
‘Thanks a lot,’ says Mel, angrily dolloping large spoonfuls of tagine onto a plate. ‘Some friend you are.’
I’m stung by this; Mel and I are really close. I take a deep breath. ‘Mel, you know I will always be your friend, we’ve been through too much together to fall out. Remember the time we turned up at the wrong wedding?’
‘Oh yes, we hid behind the door and snuck out, giggling like loons as the bride made her grand entrance.’ Mel smiles at the memory.
‘Nothing’s ever going to change that… and if you think Rob Bright’s the guy to make you happy, then I am willing to try, try mind you, to tolerate him.’ I gulp at this horrendous thought.
Mel gives a wry smile. ‘Sophie, you know me better than that. Do you really think Rob’s the guy for me?’
‘No, so why are you moving in with him?’
‘I’m trying to get a foot on the ladder with my design business.’
‘You’re using him? But what does Rob have to do with the fashion world except that he’s a danger to it?’
‘It’s not him.’ Mel laughs. ‘His patron Richard Simms has links with Lady Constance Parker.’
‘Yes, Rob’s been telling me till he’s blue in the face, but she’s not got anything to do with fashion. Lady Constance? No, that’s laughable.’
‘She’s the sister of Vivienne d’Artois,’ Mel announces dramatically.
‘Not the Vivienne d’Artois of Beaux Arts?’
‘The very same.’ Mel’s triumphant.
I’m still lost. ‘But how is being with Rob going to help you with that? Couldn’t you just date him and get him to introduce you to Lady Constance?’
‘Not really,’ Mel replies sheepishly. ‘I need to be with her a great deal to make any impact. You’ve already told me how difficult she is. I’ll need to spend a lot of time inveigling my way into her snobbish little circle.’
‘But how can you put up with someone like him?’ I still can’t believe it.
‘I don’t actually find him that bad,’ she says stubbornly. ‘He’s annoying, for sure, but he’ll be at work most of the time and perhaps he has hidden assets.’
She raises her eyebrows ironically at this, causing a release in the tension that has arisen between us and we both dissolve into giggles. ‘Oh, Soph,’ she says when we’ve recomposed ourselves, ‘I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, but I’m sick of struggling at the bottom to get my label even vaguely noticed.’
‘I thought you were doing better lately.’
‘Not really.’ Mel sighs. ‘We both know it isn’t an easy industry to get into. You need a leg-up and this is mine.’
I guess there’s no arguing with that. Mel has made up her mind, and when she does that there’s no moving her, whether it’s about animal rights or eating meat. She digs in her heels and refuses to budge.
But I can’t get over the shock of the news – Mel and Rob. It’s a horrible thought, so degrading for her to have to be with him. I can’t help feeling bad too, as maybe if I had a more influential position at Modiste, I might have been able to help without her having to sacrifice herself on Rob.
As is typical some weeks, things go from bad to worse. My conversation with Chloe doesn’t go well at all. She refuses to talk about Kian, brushing away my concern about her eye, making me feel as though I’m fussing. She banged it herself and that’s the story she’s sticking to. I noticed she won’t come out for a girly night with Mel, Maria and Izzy, however. Chloe says she has too much on at work, but I figure it’s more likely that Kian has once again put a stop to any freedom.
My other issue is that of Mel going to live with Rob, I’m short of a flatmate.
‘Isn’t there anyone from work you could share with?’ my mum asks helpfully when she phones later that day. ‘What about a nice student from the uni, a trainee teacher would be good company?’
The trouble is, it’s such short notice. Mel’s decided to move out next month due to an exhibition coming up in the autumn. It’s a huge event and she needs to get all the work prepped in time. Rob’s already promised her the use of her own room to use as a design area. You have to hand it to her, she’s ever practical. I’ll miss her so much though. I know she’s only moving an hour or so from London, but it seems the other end of the world.
Our girly evening is a really fun diversion, however. We go to see the new film version of Emma at the cinema – the cast is fabulous, with dinner afterwards. Izzy is still pretty down though, in spite of Maria’s best efforts to keep her cheerful.
We’re part way through our pizza when she jumps up dramatically from the table.
‘Everything okay?’ I ask, concerned, as she’s nearly knocked everything over in her excitement.
‘No,’ she says, sinking back down in her chair crestfallen. ‘I just thought I had a message from Josh but it isn’t.’
‘I bet he’ll contact you when he’s ready,’ Mel says kindly.
I am not so sure. I have heard from Maria that he’s continued to ignore Izzy pretty consistently in spite of her never-ending stream of texts. I have also been told he’s been spotted in a couple of happening bars with Lady Cara draped all over him.
‘So, when do you move in with Rob?’ Maria asks Mel.
I have to try to hide an involuntary shudder. Even the words give me the creeps.
‘This week,’ Mel replies cheerfully. ‘Though I hope we’ll all meet up quite often.’
‘I think you’ll need to,’ Izzy retorts surprisingly. She seems to have been in her own little dream world most of the evening.