‘Well, hello there, sister-friend!’ she chirped and Cressida Collins raised her head and promptly brained herself on the lamp.
‘Ow! And also, hello sister-friend, what are you even doing here?’ she asked.
Sophy spread her arms wide in the manner of a magician about to pluck a rabbit from a hat. ‘I’ve come to take you away from all this!’
Cress didn’t look too thrilled at the prospect. ‘It’s far too early for lunch, Soph, and these robes aren’t going to mend themselves,’ she said, bending her head to focus again on the yellowing, heavy brocade cloth she was working on. ‘I don’t know why but it’s always the archbishops that are very hard on their capes.’
Strictly speaking, they weren’t sisters, but rather stepsisters. One of the reasons why Sophy had been so happy to welcome Mike into their little family when she was ten was because she’d gained a stepsister, like a bonus gift with a purchase. She’d always wanted a sister.
Thinking back now, Sophy realised how nervous Mike and Caroline must have been when they introduced the girls, as Mike had weekend custody and if she and Cress had hated eachother then their parents’ future together would have been tricky.
Sophy could still remember how nervous and excited she’d been that Saturday morning over twenty years ago. She’d barely eaten any breakfast and had spent the morning kneeling on the sofa, staring out of the window as she waited for Mike’s Ford Mondeo to pull up. But when it had, the enormity of the situation suddenly dawned on Sophy (what if Mike’s daughter hated her?) and she’d fled to the sanctuary of her bedroom until Caroline had knocked gently on the door.
‘I know you’re scared, darling, but poor Cress is even more scared. She’s won’t even get out of the car,’ Caroline had said, coming to sit on the bed and stroke the hair back from Sophy’s pale face. ‘Could you be really brave and come out to say hello to her?’
‘Why do I have to be the brave one?’ Sophy had wanted to know, but she got her answer when she was finally coaxed out with the promise of fish and chips and her choice of a DVD from Blockbuster later, and saw Cress cowering in the back seat of the car.
She was far more frightened of Sophy than Sophy was of her. Even though Cress was maybe the prettiest girl that Sophy had ever seen in real life. She had masses of curly brown hair and soft features that now Sophy thought of as ethereal. Back then she’d thought that Cress looked like the kind of girl who always got picked to play Mary in the Nativity, whereas Sophy was always relegated to playing a sheep. Not even one of the backup angels.
Sophy had poked her head into the back of the car and looked around the vehicle, avoiding Cress’s pinched and terrified face, for inspiration. Her gaze had finally come to rest on Cress’s Spice Girls backpack and suddenly she had something she could work with.
‘Who’s your favourite Spice Girl?’ she asked. ‘Mine’s Geri because we both have red hair and believe in girl power.’
‘Posh!’ Cress squeaked, which was a bit disappointing because Posh Spice was easily Sophy’s least favourite Spice Girl (all Posh seemed to do was pout and point at things), but the ice had been broken and Cress had got out of the car and they’d spent the afternoon in Sophy’s bedroom practising the dance routine to ‘Spice Up Your Life’ and comparing their favourite boarding-school set books. It was a foregone conclusion that Cress would stay for fish and chips and a DVD from Blockbuster.
It had been a lot like falling in love at first sight.
Cress was still the prettiest person Sophy had ever seen in real life. She was also still painfully shy, hating confrontation and change as much as she hated mustard and wasps. She was someone who always took the path of least resistance. Even though she’d gone to Central Saint Martins and done a degree in fashion conservation, she’d taken the first job she was offered at the Museum for Boring Old Religious Stuff, and was still there ten years later. She still lived with her mum, Diane, who had never turned Cress’s room into a home spa, and she was still dating Colin, who’d asked her out when she was sixteen and, as far as Sophy was concerned, wasn’t fit to kiss the hem of Cress’s fetching, handmade work smock.
But Sophy rarely voiced her concerns about Colin, even though he took Cress for granted and was a mansplainer from way back. Whenever Sophy did bring up the subject of how Cress could do a lot better, Cress would squirm. ‘Oh, he means well,’ she’d say, which was a pretty weak endorsement of her boyfriend of fourteen years.
Now, Sophy came further into the room so she could perch her behind on the edge of Cress’s work desk. ‘You remember when we talked about me emigrating to Australia…’
‘No!’ Cress put the archbishop’s robes down so she could stick her fingers in her ears. ‘We’re not talking about you emigrating to Australia because it’s the most awful idea in the world. La la la, I can’t hear you!’
‘But the bit aboutcarpe diem,’ Sophy said loudly. ‘That bit. I’m here to get you to seize this very day by the scruff of its neck and give it a good shake. Then you’re going to come with me…’
‘I can’t. I have some cassocks that need mending.’
‘I’m offering you a job, Cress. Working with high-end vintage fashion all day and every day.’
Cress tightened her beautiful rosebud mouth as she continued to make tiny, almost invisible stiches, but she did look up just the once, her eyes full of longing. ‘I already have a job.’
‘We have a dress in the shop that is almost identical to the dress that Audrey Hepburn wears in the opening scene ofBreakfast at Tiffany’s: black, sleeveless, floor-length…’
‘Givenchy,’ Cress breathed reverently like she was saying a prayer. ‘Hubert de Givenchy designed all her dresses forBreakfast at Tiffany’sand you know that bit where she sings “Moon River”?’
‘I know it well,’ Sophy said, becauseBreakfast at Tiffany’swas one of Cress’s favourite films, which meant that Sophy had had to sit through it at least a hundred times. At least. So she knew exactly what Cress’s next words were going to be.
‘It’s why when she died, Tiffany took out an ad in theNew York Timesdedicated to their huckleberry friend,’ Cress said, her voice catching as she took the tissue that Sophy had all ready to go. This wasn’t either of their first times at the huckleberry friend rodeo.
‘We have another dress in the shop that’s a lot like the dress Audrey wears inFunny Face, when they’re doing the fashion shoot…’
‘Oh, stop it,’ Cress tried to say sternly but failed miserably. ‘Which dress? Is it the white strapless one or the one with the black embroidery and the double skirt?’
‘There’s only one way for you to find out,’ Sophy told her, and she launched into the pitch that she’d been working on all of the night before and quite a lot of this morning. It was a very fashion-heavy pitch, extolling the virtues of getting to handle lovely dresses all day rather than the ceremonial robes of doughty clergy. Sophy knew for a fact that at least one cardinal had actually died in his fancy frock – keeled right over while they were choosing a new pope – because it was easily the most interesting artefact in the whole museum.
‘You’d have your own lovely space just off the wedding dress and posh gown atally…atelia…um, salon?’
