A Face To Die For by Jan Warburton Read Free Book Online Page A

in constant pain nowadays from severe arthritis in his injured leg. At times he couldn't walk far without a stick; occasionally even resorting to a wheelchair when ever he and Joan went out anywhere.
    After the meal Joan and I cleared the dishes away. Then we all sat back, and while Sid snoozed, we relaxed, chatting in front of the sitting room fire. It was cosy and warm and I was reminded of the many wonderful times Belinda and I had spent with them as children. Their house always smelled of freshly baked something or other, usually bread or cakes. Today it was especially good because Joan had made a delicious chocolate cake for tea.
    Apart from my new job, much of our talk during the afternoon was about Mum and Philip's hotel venture. Joan agreed they'd taken on a huge responsibility.
    'According to your mum’s last letter it all seems to be coming along very well and they hope to be fully open soon. All the same, it's a mammoth task for them,' Joan said. 'I do hope they're not taking on too much.'
    I had to admit that thought had crossed my mind too.
    Sid, stirring from his nap, stretched and cleared his throat. 'Well, you know Philip. He loves a challenge? What about the restaurants, dear? How are they doing these days?
    'Fine, I think. To be honest, Uncle, I don't really know. I see so little of them nowadays, especially since they sold the house. I must say, the restaurant beneath our flat seems busy most nights though, if that's anything to go by. But they're spending more and more time in Wales now.'
    'I know. We must visit them one of these days.' Sid patted Joan's hand and she smiled sweetly back at him. But I think she knew it was unlikely that they would; without a car it was an effort these days for them to go anywhere much.
    *
    Over the next few months things really took off. Officially contracted now for one year to design for the Miss Courtney , Ready-to-Wear collection, I moved along to work in my new premises two doors down in Grosvenor Street. We shared the building with a law firm, whose offices took up most of the ground floor. Yet we didn't intrude on one another; apart from sharing the toilet and washroom at the rear of that floor.
    The floors above this were my domain and the two large paned Georgian windows of the reception and my office on the first floor facing the street had MISS COURTNEY DESIGN OFFICES AND SHOWROOM sign-painted in large lettering across the windows. Outside, on the wall beside the large newly painted black door, was a smart brass plate engraved with the name and details of which floor we were on. Bay trees stood to attention either side at the top of the front steps, just as they did outside the main House of Courtney premises.
    This was a wondrously inspiring period for me as I began work on my small collection for its inaugural showing six months hence. Countdown to my first show had truly begun.
    It felt so good to be running the new set up, even though Edward spent much of the first month or two advising me. But he was pretty fair, however, during this time, always making it clear that I was the collection designer. I was also allowed to make most design and fabric choices myself.
    This was fine because as a team we'd always worked well together. And to be honest I was often quite glad to have his expert guidance, especially over early major choices when my lack of experience could sometimes leave me floundering.
    Fortunately in the early months we weren't too inundated with people phoning or calling in, so I was able to fully concentrate on my designs. A junior assistant - Lynda, whom I'd carefully chosen with Edward's help - was also taken on. An ex-fashion student from St Martins, she had already worked for about a year as a pattern grader for a large wholesale house. She was a fast pattern cutter too, with an excellent eye for design.
    With just over four months to go now, as I sketched my ideas, Lynda speedily cut the patterns and worked on the lays and samples for me.