Celebrity Shopper by Carmen Reid Page B

business just as soon as the duck terrine had been served, ‘we need to speak to Patrizio and begin to put together the show, huh? He thinks if we move quickly, we can still put something on in the next fortnight and catch the very end of the fashion show season.’
    ‘Ya,’ Svetlana agreed. ‘I call him already, he come here tomorrow to meet with us.’
    ‘So who is this chap?’ Harry asked with interest. His new wife was still a source of constant fascination to him.
    ‘He’s very important event organizer,’ Svetlana began, picking up her heavy silver-plated knife and moving in onthe sliver of food on her plate. ‘He put on many, many important fashion shows.’
    ‘He will find us a venue, models and do all the organization for us,’ Elena went on. ‘We just have to turn up in Paris with the clothes.’
    ‘Yes, he says he take care of everything. He want to share our vision,’ Svetlana added.
    ‘Is he French?’ Harry wondered.
    ‘No, I think he’s Italian. Do you know, Elena?’
    ‘I’ve not spoken to him, you have done all the talking with him,’ came Elena’s reply.
    ‘So where did you hear of him?’ Harry asked. ‘How did you get in touch with him?’
    ‘You told me, no?’ Svetlana began, looking in Elena’s direction.
    ‘No,’ Elena assured her.
    ‘Not you?’ Svetlana lifted her fork to her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Once she’d swallowed she said: ‘Not you … I not remember who tell me about him then. But no matter.’ She gave a shrug. ‘He is w-onderful. It is all going to be fantastic success.’

Chapter Thirteen
     
    Fern at home:
     
    Beige knit skirt (John Lewis)
Cream blouse (Mulberry via Annie)
Lace-up sensible shoes (Ecco)
Pearl necklace (60th birthday gift to self)
Cloud of perfume (Chanel No 19)
Pink lipstick (Estée Lauder)
Total est. cost: £390
     
    ‘We’re going to have to talk …’
     
    ‘Who was that?’ Ed called down the stairs.
    ‘Al’s guy. Forgotten his tools,’ Annie called back, trying to recover from the Janucek visitation. ‘Order the pizzas and I’ll take Micky and Minnie down to Mum’s. Wonder if her rooms are covered in plaster dust too.’
    Ed, appearing at the top of the stairs, looked mildly surprised, as if this was the first time he’d thought about Annie’s mother all day long.
    ‘Is she OK?’ Annie asked, recognizing the look. ‘Have you not had the chance to see her today?’
    ‘Not since breakfast,’ Ed admitted.
    ‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ Annie said to reassure them both. ‘C’mon, give me Micky,’ she said. Then, with a baby on each arm, she headed out of the front door and down to the basement steps to her mother’s flat.
    Ringing the bell, Annie felt just a prickle of nerves. Surely nothing would have happened to Fern while no one was paying attention? The builder had been around in the garden – the bulldozer tracks were obvious enough. If Fern had been in any sort of bother, she’d just have gone to Ed or even the builders for help, wouldn’t she?
    But what if she’d gone out? Ages ago? And no one had noticed? And what if she’d got lost?
    Annie listened hard at the door and for a moment felt panicky. She didn’t think she could hear anything.
    The sound of footsteps came from the other side of the door.
    ‘Hi, Mum!’ Annie said with relief, seeing Fern’s silhouette in the small window of the door. ‘How are you doing?’ she asked as soon as the door was open.
    ‘Oh, fine,’ Fern answered, but there was something of an agitated look on her face. ‘Come in, bring my lovely, lovely babies and come in. I’m just trying to find …’ She turned round, headed back into the flat and her words tailed off.
    Annie walked through the tiny hallway and the compact kitchen, following her mum into the small, low-ceilinged sitting room where she sat down on the sofa with the babies. As soon as she took a seat, the twins no longer wanted to be still and immediately tried to crawl off in opposite