‘Tell me you can get something biked over here within the next hour,’ she said.
Janice blanched. ‘We’re in Berkshire. It will take a couple of hours at least.’
‘Does Cliveden have a shop?’ suggested Josie, who was hovering nearby.
‘Actually, I’ve got some things in the car,’ said Janice. ‘I’m doing a freelance shoot tonight.’
‘Great. Let’s see them,’ Amy said.
‘Do you need another coffee?’ asked Josie.
‘Thanks. And make sure Miranda and Karrie have got everything they want. In fact, let’s have an early lunch break so we can sort this and start shooting.’
Janice disappeared, returning a few minutes later with five billowing gowns. All were beautiful and intricately tailored, but they lacked the Verve sass.
‘It’s modest fashion,’ she explained, running her hand down the lace arm of a long yellow dress. ‘The shoot tonight is for a magazine based in the Middle East.’
‘There’s nothing else?’
Janice shook her head. ‘This is the best I’ve got.’
Amy glanced at her watch. ‘The yellow dress is too bridesmaidey. Let’s go with that red one for the cover and shoot against a white backdrop,’ she said, clapping her hands together.
Miranda tottered out of the dressing room in the red dress. It looked hot and heavy, with a high, tight neckline, and already she was sweating, her grim expression indicating her displeasure.
‘She wanted serious,’ whispered Gemma, trying to raise a smile.
‘Let’s just do this,’ said Amy, folding her arms across her chest.
She felt a flutter of anxiety in her belly as she watched Elise get to work. She knew she could not afford another duff cover. Under normal circumstances, Miranda’s miserable appearance could always be construed as street. But two sober covers on the trot looked like a repositioning. Which would be fine if Amy wanted to make Verve more serious and achingly fashionable. But she did not.
She glanced at her watch: 1.45. In another half an hour Elise would be gone. Liz Stewart had already left, but Amy wondered if she could speak to Karrie and maybe squeeze out a phone interview.
She went into the dressing room, but there was no one there except Josie, who was clearing up the coffee cups and food leftovers.
‘Thanks for doing that,’ said Amy.
Josie threw the rubbish in the bin. ‘Are shoots always like this?’ she asked.
‘Creative egos can be delicate.’ Amy smiled.
‘Do you like that dress? The red one.’
Amy looked at her in surprise. ‘The craftsmanship is incredible . . .’ she began, then stopped herself. ‘But she looks like a lobster, doesn’t she?’
Josie laughed, and then fell silent for a moment.
‘Do you know why I buy Verve?’ she said eventually.
‘Tell me,’ challenged Amy.
‘You make other-worldly people seem more ordinary.’
‘Is that a compliment?’
‘Absolutely.’ Josie nodded. ‘The other fashion magazines . . . sometimes they make celebrities seem scary. They put them on a pedestal in clothes that cost more than a car, and if they think that makes them aspirational, they’re wrong. It makes them irrelevant.’
Amy had never really considered this before and had to concede the younger woman had a point.