Shopping With the Enemy Read Free Page A

I was standing next to the woman I was meant to work my magic on, I just stared and stared at all the pieces on the entire clothes rail and I couldn’t see anything I liked. Not one single idea jumped out at me. That has never happened to me before. We took a break and I had to ask one of the junior assistants to help me out.’
    ‘You were just stressed,’ Connor decided. ‘You tensed up and you found it hard to be creative. No one can be creative when they’re stressed.’
    ‘So am I supposed to ask the director to massage my shoulders then? Or maybe my feet?’ Annie snapped, ‘
Could I have a lovely foot massage please, then I’ll feel so much more focused?
’
    ‘There’s no need to snipe.’
    ‘I’m sorry. But I am so het up about this,’ she admitted, ‘If I’ve lost the fashion touch, the makeover magic, then I am over. Finished. And who’s going to foot the mortgage-slash-school fees-slash-daughter’s airfares to New York then?’
    ‘Shhhush now,’ Dinah said soothingly, the way she might to a sleep-deprived toddler, and patted Annie gently on the hand. ‘This season is definitely a challenge, it reminds me of all the bad things we used to wear when we were teenagers. You’re probably traumatized. I mean, lacy tunics, fingerless gloves, peachy neutrals and dayglo – there are even leg of mutton sleeves!’
    ‘Oh God, I hate them!’ Annie exclaimed.
    ‘Exactly. You’re having flashbacks to the late Eighties.’
    ‘But how can I get over this?’ she asked. ‘And by tomorrow, please. In fact, we have a live event in front of an audience coming right up. I’m already having nightmares about it.’
    ‘You probably just need to recharge your fashion batteries,’ Dinah replied. ‘It’s like when Jamie Oliver got fed up with food. Remember?’
    ‘Huh?’
    Annie had as many Jamie Oliver cookbooks as the next person, but she wasn’t quite as devoted a fan as her sister.
    ‘Don’t you remember? He was pole-axed after his School Dinners nightmare. He was spent, half dead, didn’t even want to open a tin of beans. So what did he do next?’
    ‘I don’t know, Dinah. Did he retire to his vast mansion for a spot of light gardening?’ Annie asked sourly.
    ‘No. He got into a camper van and set off for Italy because in Italy everyone loves food, everyone loves to cook, he was surrounded by passion for food and for eating and so he got his cooking mojo back again.’
    ‘And a whole new TV series, clever man,’ Connor pointed out.
    ‘You need a break, Annie,’ Dinah said. ‘Maybe you need to go to Italy in a camper van and relight your passion for fashion.’
    ‘Italy
would
be very nice,’ Annie agreed, a little wistfully. ‘Italy is the birthplace of style.’
    She paused to consider the wealth of Italian labels: Pucci, Gucci, Armani, Fendi. Italy was the land of the leather handbag, the spiritual home of the shoe.
    ‘But in a camper van? No,’ she said firmly. ‘Shudder. If I’m going to Italy then it’s staying in a lovely hotel with 300-thread-count sheets and room service or nothing.’
    ‘Well, just go to Italy,’ Dinah said, making it sound so simple.
    Annie gave a deep sigh: ‘Dinah, sweetheart, I have another six whole weeks of twelve-hour days before the first break in the schedule. There’s not one spare moment, let alone one spare penny, to take me swanning off to Italy.’
    ‘You’ll have to find your fashion mojo,’ Dinah warned, ‘or how will you man your show with all the required energy, enthusiasm and sparkle?’
    ‘All my energy, enthusiasm and sparkle is going to be needed to persuade lovely Lana to give up her cushy little number in New York and come back to London to start the Retail Business course at Dagenham Technical College.’
    ‘Oooooh,’ Connor winced. ‘Give up Manhattan for Dagenham? That is evil, Annie. She is going to hate you.’
    ‘It’s a really good course,’ Annie protested, ‘I’ve done the research!’
    ‘She