Head Over Heels. Holly Smale
cookies.
Hesitating, I peer through the window.
The gang’s in there already, sitting in our normal spot, drinks in front of them. Nat’s looking at the front of an envelope, Toby’s drawing a diagram of something and Indi’s staring at her phone. Her socked feet propped on the table. Thanks to my fight with Annabel, I’m late.
My phone’s still ringing and – when I drag it out reluctantly – FAIRY GODMOTHER is flashing on the screen.
This might be important.
Or it might not be. With Wilbur it’s sometimes difficult to tell.
Quickly, I rap loudly on the cafe window.
I’m here! I mouth as they look up simultaneously. Don’t do anything interesting without me!
My friends stare at me through the glass.
Just like that! I mouth gratefully, giving them a thumbs up. I’ll be just one minute!
Then I turn around to take the call.
Just not necessarily as an agent.
Since the Paris debacle, the phone hasn’t exactly been ringing off the hook for my professional services. In fact, last time Wilbur called me it was four nights ago to give him advice on ordering pizza.
I suggested tuna and pineapple: it was a great success.
“Hello?” I say distractedly. Through the window I can see Nat rubbing her eyes and India shaking her head.
What was that? What did I just miss?
“Happy Friday, baby-baby-buffalo! How are you today, milk-muffin? Are you just bubbling under the unseasonal sun?”
Nat opens the envelope and says something and Jasper emerges from the kitchen, glances momentarily at the group and then narrows his eyes and looks around the cafe.
I rap on the window again and wave.
He gives a rare grin and points at the full brown paper bag in his hand.
Ooh, yay. More burnt biscuits.
“Hello?” Wilbur says, tapping his phone. “Mini butterball? Are you still there or are you focusing on sprouting freckles like a little duck’s egg?”
Whoops. Focus, Harriet.
“Sorry.” I face the other way so I can concentrate properly. “I’m here. What’s up?”
“Speaking of up, have you seen the gif of you doing the rounds on email yet, my little fish flake? You are utterly hilairical.”
An abrupt memory flashes: strobe lights, a moving floor, a sudden splash of water. I clear my throat in embarrassment.
Nope. Still not going to think about it.
“It was six weeks ago,” I say defensively. “The fashion industry needs to get over it already. Have they got nothing better to do?”
“Not really,” Wilbur admits. “There’s a bit of a lull between the spring and summer collections. You’re filling the gap nicely.”
My phone beeps and I glance at the screen.
“Huh. That’s weird. Stephanie is calling me too. She hasn’t spoken to me since Paris.”
“Hmm? Oh, just cancel that, pumpkin. She’s just trying to make people buy her new velvet hairband range.”
Then Wilbur clears his throat loudly.
“Anyway. The reason I’m ringing you today, Harriet, is for a very special, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity …”
I squint a bit harder through the window: India’s started pulling her purple boots back on.
“For a limited time only, you too can be a part of a group of select and elite members of the fashion industry …”
Now Toby’s putting his folder in his backpack.
“… a plethora of talents from every corner of the globe …”
Nat’s getting her coat. Are we leaving already?
“… from Niue to Nauru …”
“Huh? Wilbur, what are you talking about? Niue and Nauru? They’re both islands in the Pacific Ocean. That’s not every corner of the globe. It’s just one corner.”
“Dingo-bats,” he sighs. “Never mind.”
There’s a short silence, then Wilbur coughs. “What I’m trying to say is … Harriet, will you come with me?”
“To the South Pacific?”
“To the new modelling agency I’ve just set up.”
And he’s suddenly got my full attention.
“You’ve left Infinity? But …” Again sounds a bit rude. “Didn’t you just go back to working there?”
“Darling moo, who wants to polish the crown when you can wear the tiara?”
I have no idea what that means.
“Everything’s ready,” he continues quickly. “I have the best contacts, and all my top models and designers are signed so it’s really no big deal if you don’t want to …”
“Wilbur,” I smile, looking back through the window, “of course I want to. I’ll come with you.”
“You will?”
“Yes! You’re my fairy godmother. Where you go, I go.” Also I kind of get the sense that after Paris my time at Infinity Models is as good as over. And I really hate Stephanie, but that’s just an unexpected bonus.
Wilbur lets out an enormous happy sigh. “Harriet Manners, you are the pompom on my jaunty beret. Has anybody ever told you that?”
I laugh. “Probably not. So what’s the plan?”
“I just have a few more duckies to line up and then I’ll give you a tinkle?”
I nod and start heading towards the cafe doors.
“I’m your girl, Wilbur. Just tell me what I have to do.”
In the past, there has certainly been the odd occasion where I’ve possibly missed a hint here or a gesture there or an outright statement kind of everywhere.
But not this time.
As I skip into the cafe, my friends’ urgency is unmistakable. Bags are being slung on, coats grabbed, coffees slurped and cake polished off.
And I think we all know why.
They clearly want to get the party started as quickly as possible.
Wow, these guys are keen.
“Gang!” I smile, taking my normal