Clearing her throat somewhat noisily, Linnet looked directly at Evan as she came over to the desk, and said pleasantly, ‘I’ll finish reading your résumé and application forms later.’
Evan nodded, looking pleased. Inside she was thrilled, excited to be sitting here; she could scarcely believe her luck.
Returning Evan’s steady gaze, Linnet noticed that the young woman’s resemblance to her mother was stronger than she had realized a moment ago. Evan’s face was the same shape as Paula’s, finely sculpted and the dark brows sweeping along the broad forehead were identical. But her eyes were not the colour of pansies, as her mother’s were. Evan’s were a light, bluish-grey, large and translucent. At this moment those eyes were full of eagerness, and there was a sense of earnestness about her that Linnet couldn’t help liking. In fact, there was something truly appealing about Evan Hughes, and Linnet smiled at her warmly, approvingly.
Evan smiled back, and was just about to say something when she was cut off by Gideon.
Hovering behind Evan’s chair, his hand resting on the back, he exclaimed, ‘Well, I’d better skedaddle, leave you both to get down to the nitty-gritty.’ Striding purposefully towards the door, he finally swung around before exiting. Blowing a kiss to Linnet, he said, ‘I’ll give you a ring later, so that we can discuss the big bash in June. And Miss Hughes, I wish you lots of luck at Harte’s.’
Before either woman could make any kind of response, the door closed softly behind him.
‘I’ve been looking to hire another assistant,’ Linnet explained to Evan, once they were alone. ‘I already have one, actually. Her name’s India Standish, and she’s my cousin. We work well together, we run the fashion floors and we have for several years. Unfortunately, India’s off sick right now, she has the flu. So does my secretary, Cassie Littleton.’ Linnett stopped, shook her head helplessly, and then, making a face, she glanced around the room. ‘Hence this mess. It’s not usually like this, I’m a fairly tidy person. Anyway, I don’t think either of them will be in this week. I just hope I don’t come down with it. I can’t afford to be sick right now.’
‘I think there’s a bit of an epidemic,’ Evan warned in a worried voice. ‘I’ve just recovered from a bout of the flu myself.’
‘I’m glad you’re better,’ Linnet murmured. ‘Anyway, not to digress. I understand from Gideon and Maggie that you studied design, and had a career in fashion in New York.’
‘That’s correct. I was a student at the Fashion Institute of Technology in Manhattan, and then later I was an apprentice with the couturier Arnold Scaasi for a year. I even worked in the fashion department at Bergdorf Goodman for a while.’
Evan shifted slightly in her chair, and continued, ‘I also helped Pauline Trigère with a retrospective of her couture which she was putting on. That was about six years ago, when I was still at F.I.T. She’s a friend of my father’s, and he asked her if I could help her with the exhibit, just to gain experience, and she said yes. I learned a lot from simply being around her. She has great personal style, and her clothes are marvellous.’
‘That I know. My great-grandmother was a fan of hers, according to my mother, and the clothes I found in storage are proof of that. There are a number of Trigère gowns, suits and coats in Emma’s vast collection.’
Evan’s face lit up as she exclaimed, ‘That’s wonderful. They will be in the fashion retrospective, won’t they?’
‘Yes, they will. Obviously Maggie Hemmings told you about the exhibit which India and I are planning.’
‘She did touch on it, yes. How comprehensive is it going to be?’
Leaning across the desk, Linnet explained in an enthusiastic voice, ‘Very comprehensive. We’re going to be showing eighty years of fashion, going all the way back to 1920 and coming forward to the year 2000. We’re basing part of the exhibit on the clothes which belonged to my great-grandmother. She was Emma Harte, the founder of the Harte stores.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Evan said, and then, before she could stop herself, she blurted out, ‘I saw her portrait in the corridor. You certainly look like a younger version of her.’
Laughing, Linnet opened the centre drawer of her desk, and murmured, ‘Oh yes, I know…everybody tells me that. I just hope I’m a little bit like her in other ways, particularly in character. She was pretty special; a very brilliant woman.’
Bringing out a sheet of paper, Linnet handed it to Evan. ‘These are some of the designers we’re planning to feature. The clothes that belonged to Emma are also listed, and they’re from her haute-couture collection.’ She laughed. ‘Actually, I think I’ve taken all of the collection.’
Quickly scanning the list she was holding, Evan read out some of the names in an awed voice. ‘Pierre Balmain, Coco Chanel, Cristóbal Balenciaga, Christian Dior, Trigère, Lanvin, Vionnet, Hubert de Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Scaasi, Cardin. Heavens, what fantastic names. Your great-grandmother must have had wonderful taste,’ she finished, looking across the desk at Linnet.
‘I think she did.’
‘I notice you’re also listing separately Valentino, Oscar de la Renta, Karl Lagerfeld, Zandra Rhodes, Lacroix, Versace and many other designers. Do you have their clothes already?’
‘Only some. We have Emma’s collection, of course. That’s recently been brought down here from Pennistone Royal, my mother’s house in Yorkshire where they are stored. And we do have a certain number of items by other designers. However, I think we do need to find more clothes, additional vintage pieces, and I was hoping that you could handle that. Naturally I’m assuming that you would like to work on the retrospective, if you come on board at Harte’s.’
Leaning forward urgently, her face full of that engaging eagerness Linnet had noted before, Evan exclaimed, ‘I’d love to work at Harte’s, and I’d be thrilled to be involved with the retrospective. A project like this is always challenging, Miss O’Neill.’
‘And very hard work,’ Linnet pointed out, giving her a direct look. ‘I hope you don’t mind long hours.’
‘Not me. I’ve been told I’m a workaholic by most people I’ve worked with.’
Linnet burst out laughing. ‘That’s good to know, and join the club! India and I suffer from that same ailment, I’m afraid. Though I think I’m worse than she is sometimes! Anyway, do you have any thoughts about where and how to acquire vintage clothes for the exhibition?’
‘Yes, I do. There are several good vintage clothing shops in New York. The best I think is Ken Valenti. He’s a private dealer of vintage couture, and he has about ten thousand pieces, as well as accessories such as shoes, bags, scarves and jewellery. He has quite a lot of Yves Saint Laurent, I do know that. Anyway, he has an Internet site, and we can pull it up on the computer so you can see some of the clothes. Then there’s Didier Ludot in Paris. He has three shops, but the best is the one in the gardens of the Palais Royal, which is dedicated to vintage haute couture dating from the 1920s up to the 1980s. Your time span for your exhibit.’
‘That’s good to know! We do have to investigate, look at web sites. There are auction houses, of course, such as Christie’s and Sotheby’s here in London. In fact, we’ve already bought quite a lot at auction in the past year, which is how long we’ve been working on the retrospective, putting it together.’
‘The William Doyle Galleries in New York also specialize in vintage haute couture. There’s probably an auction coming up sometime soon.’
‘You mentioned accessories a moment ago,’ Linnet remarked. ‘And I forgot to tell you that we have shoes and bags from Emma Harte’s collection, which we’ll be putting on display.’
‘That’s always a great idea, to give the whole picture,’ Evan answered. ‘Also, some fashion designers are willing to loan clothes from their archives for a retrospective like the one you’re planning. Have you contacted any of them?’
‘Yes we have, and the clothes have already been lent to us. All those wonderful original models the designers have kept for posterity, which is great.
And we have a number of current haute-couture pieces in the fashion department which we’re planning to include. But we still need more items to make the exhibit really impressive…’ Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. ‘It’s quite a task, you know.’
After a moment’s thought, Evan said quietly, ‘I have an idea. Why not pick out six or eight, or better still, ten really chic women in London, and honour them at the retrospective as Fashion Icons. They’d be a wonderful vehicle for publicity, especially if they’re well known. And they’d probably agree to lend us some of their own couture clothes to put on display. If we had ten icons and each loaned the store five or six pieces, that would mean we’d have fifty or so garments in one fell swoop.’
‘Brilliant!’ Linnet exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. ‘Let’s take it a step further…why don’t we have a best-dressed list? Create one of our own. That would engender some publicity for the retrospective—’ Linnet stopped abruptly, suddenly looking concerned. ‘I can see from your expression that you don’t like that idea one bit,’ she muttered.
Evan responded swiftly, ‘It’s a good idea, but I must admit I am worried about the use of the phrase “best-dressed list”. I’m not sure whether that’s a registered trademark. The Best-Dressed List was started by Eleanor Lambert in New York, as far as I know, many years ago. It just might—’
‘Belong to her,’ Linnet interrupted. ‘I understand your concern. Point well taken. So let’s skip it then. I don’t want complications, and certainly I don’t want to work on something that might prove to be a waste of time. Let’s go with the Fashion Icons, though. I love it. India will help with the right names, and so will I. We’ll need a long list, a lot more women than ten, because not all of the women we approach will agree to participate. Let’s do some research on that.’
Evan agreed and, encouraged by Linnet’s enthusiastic response to her suggestion, she went on, ‘I can talk to Arnold Scaasi. I’m sure he would lend us a number of his evening gowns. He has a magnificent collection of his own designs, a great archive.’
Linnet nodded. ‘That’d be fantastic. But we will have to buy some of the vintage couture that’s around. Very simply, we just need it, no two ways about that, to round out certain years in fashion.’ She sat back, deciding that Evan Hughes was going to be invaluable to her. How lucky it was that Gideon had noticed her in the corridor. But who could fail to miss her? She was an arresting-looking young woman. Unexpectedly, Linnet felt considerably better about properly completing all of the work on the exhibition. The young American woman had been in her office for what? Only half an hour, at the most. Yet she had a truly good feeling about Evan, a positive reaction to her. And in the most peculiar way she felt as if she had known her for a very long time. There was something vaguely familiar about Evan Hughes.
For her part, Evan, who was quick, intelligent and acute, knew she had made a good impression on Linnet, and now she said in that lovely quiet voice of hers, ‘I guess you’re planning to have the retrospective in June, from what Mr. Harte said.’
‘No, no, it’ll be in the middle of May,’ Linnet responded swiftly, and then thought to explain, ‘My cousin was referring to a birthday party we’re helping to plan with my mother. It’s for his father and mine. That’s what Gideon was talking about when he mentioned the big bash in June.’
Evan merely inclined her head, hoping she didn’t look foolish for assuming something, and then voicing it so readily without knowing the facts.
Linnet went on, ‘The retrospective will be on view for about four months, perhaps even six. The longer the better, and so I do want it to be something really smashing. Sumptuous clothes, elegance all the way.’
Evan asked, ‘Where will it be housed in the store?’
‘On the top floor. We have an auditorium up there, which my mother carved out of a number of different defunct departments a few years ago. She demolished and remodelled, she’s very good at that. It holds about eight hundred people, so it’s very spacious, as you can imagine. The clothes will be displayed to great advantage there.’
‘There’s a lot of preparation involved in this kind of show,’ Evan murmured, thinking out loud, her mind racing when she thought of all that had to be done by May. It was the middle of January already. Yes, it was a big challenge indeed.
‘I agree with you,’ Linnet was saying. ‘But the clothes we already have are in perfect condition now. They’ve been cleaned, and repaired, whenever that was necessary, and also steamed or pressed. Touch-ups can be done once the clothes are on the mannequins and in position in the auditorium. But all that aside, there’s still an awful lot to finish. That’s why I need extra help. Would you be interested in the job?’
‘Oh yes, I would!’ Evan’s voice echoed her enthusiasm.
‘When could you start?’
‘Whenever you want me to.’
‘I’ll talk to my mother and get back to you tomorrow morning?’ Linnet said.
‘Thank you, Miss O’Neill.’
Once she was alone, Linnet looked at Evan’s résumé again, and she liked what she read. She also liked Evan. There was something open and honest about her, and certainly she was enthusiastic about working at Harte’s; Linnet had detected in her a desire to work. No shirker here, she thought, as she stood up, and walked out of her office.
Hurrying down the corridor, she headed in the direction of Maggie Hemmings’s office.
Jennifer looked up as she went in, and smiled. ‘Hello, Miss O’Neill. Can I help you?’
‘I was looking for Maggie. Is she in her office? Is she free?’
Jennifer nodded.
Linnet smiled, crossed the room, knocked on the door, and went in. ‘Do you have a few minutes, Maggie?’
The older woman looked up, gave Linnet a warm smile. ‘Certainly.’
Linnet sat down, looked across at the head of Human Resources. ‘I wanted a word with you about Evan Hughes. I thought you seemed a little reluctant about her, not as enthusiastic as I would expect after reading her résumé.’
‘The résumé does read well, I can’t argue there. But I wasn’t sure if she was quite right for Harte’s.’
‘Oh. Why not?’
‘I can’t really put my finger on it…’ Maggie shrugged. ‘It’s just a feeling. And anyway, I thought it was odd, the way she was introduced by Mr. Gideon, and then she denied knowing him to me. There’s another thing,’ Maggie leaned over the desk, and added, in a lowered voice, ‘Don’t you think she looks like your mother?’
Linnet laughed. ‘They’re similar types, that’s all. And I don’t think it’s odd, no. As for my cousin, he ran in to her in the corridor when she was looking for this office. He simply guided her here. He doesn’t know her, Maggie.’
‘I see.’
‘And even if he did, why would it matter? I think she has excellent credentials, and certainly she would be very helpful to me at this particular time.’
‘Are you going to hire her?’ Maggie asked, her voice neutral now, her expression cautious.
‘I’m certainly going to think about it,’ Linnet answered, and with a nod and a smile, she rose. ‘Thanks, Maggie,’ she murmured as she left the office.
What was that about? Linnet asked herself as she went back to her own office, baffled by the attitude of the other woman, but determined not to be influenced by anyone. Evan could be of great help to her in mounting the retrospective. Perhaps she would hire her on a trial basis.
The following morning Linnet spoke to Evan on the phone. ‘I’d like you to come in and see me again, Miss Hughes. Around eleven. We can talk some more, and I’ll take you to see the collection of clothes we’ve already assembled.’
Evan was thrilled. ‘I’ll be there, Miss O’Neill, and thank you very much.’
Always punctual, Evan arrived at Linnet’s office exactly on time.
After chatting to Evan about the retrospective and her needs, Linnet said, ‘I’d like to offer you the job, on a trial basis, Evan.’
r /> Evan beamed. ‘I accept, Miss O’Neill. Thank you.’
Linnet took Evan to a storage room on the seventh floor, behind the haute-couture fashion department. Pausing at a large metal-clad door, she took out a set of keys, and turned to Evan. ‘Only India and I have keys to this room. That way we’re the only two people responsible, and only we can be blamed if anything goes wrong. Or goes missing.’
‘I understand.’
Linnet unlocked the door, pushed it open and stepped inside. She paused for a moment on the threshold until she found the light switch on the wall. A split second later many overhead lights came blinking on; she beckoned to Evan to follow her and walked into the cool, temperature-controlled storage space.
There were dozens and dozens of racks of clothes hanging in cotton bags, and when Linnet saw Evan’s face she exclaimed, ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to show you everything right now. There’s far too much to look at. But perhaps you’d be interested to see a few choice pieces that belonged to Emma.’
‘Yes, I’d like that.’
Hurrying to the far end of the room, Linnet moved a rack or two around and explained, ‘There are a couple of outfits here that are just knock-outs.’ As she spoke she began to untie the drawstring at the top of a cotton bag which held the garment.
Evan watched her taking out a black suit on a padded hanger, and she remarked, ‘What a marvellous idea these cotton bags are. Did you have them made?’
Linnet swung around. ‘Not these, no. They came from Paris. But we have had similar ones copied for the other clothes hanging here. Actually, the bag is called an “oooss”.’
‘An oooss,’ Evan repeated slowly. ‘What a strange name.’
‘That’s the way it’s pronounced, but it’s spelt h-o-u-s-s-e. It’s the French word for “cover,” in fact.’
‘They’re certainly effective for storage purposes,’ Evan replied, thinking they looked like voluminous tents.
‘Look at this suit.’ Linnet held it out. ‘It’s by Cristóbal Balenciaga. Emma had it made in 1951.’