The Exciting Life by Karen Mason

doubt
discussing business. In a corner by herself was Rene, who - rumour
had it - had been born a man and had cut his cock off with a razor
blade because he wanted to be a woman. No one knew if it was true,
or even bothered to look. But Rene was rather large and muscular
for a woman. The other punters were just elderly men nursing their
pints; probably hoping to hook up with some young girl who fancied
making a few bob.
    Iris
found a table close to the jukebox and waited for Tansy to come and
join her. She thought about the fashion show, and how she hoped it
would be a success. There was nothing more she wanted than to get
Kenneth Holland on side. The more bad blood she could create
between him and Annie, the better. She had no time for either of
them, but at least Kenneth had some gratitude for what had been
given to him. Annie paraded around behaving like someone who’d been
born to money and privilege, and it stuck in Iris’s
throat.
    The door
opened and Tansy came in. All her years of drinking had given her a
wobbly gait and she looked prematurely old. Iris guessed she wasn’t
even fifty, but she walked like someone twenty years older. She
came over to the table and put her crocodile skin bag onto the
chair next to Iris.
    ‘ What can I get you love?’ she asked.
    ‘ Gin and tonic would be nice, thanks.’
    ‘ Coming up.’
    Tansy
hobbled to the bar, and Iris could only look at her and decide she
never wanted to be like that. She was going to be rich. She wasn’t
sure how she was going to go about it, but she never wanted to be
poor or hungry again. One day she would come through Soho with her
head held high, and no one would know who she was, and they’d
accept the pound notes she’d graciously hand out.
    Tansy
came back with the drinks and sat before Iris. As she put the
glasses down on the table, her hands shook.
    ‘ You look lovely,’ she said. ‘This fella you’re with looking
after you?’
    ‘ He’s a diamond. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not whiter than
white, his old man’s a villain, but you’d never think it. He’s been
to public school and everything.’
    ‘ You always did seem different to the other girls,’ Tansy
lamented. ‘More classy. What’s this fashion show business all
about?’
    Over two
gin and tonics, Iris sat and told Tansy everything. Why she wanted
revenge on Annie and Kenneth, and what she hoped to achieve. Tansy
sat listening avidly, even forgetting to finish her drink because
she was so enthralled.
    ‘ Why don’t you go and see Ralf Silver?’ she
suggested.
    ‘ Who’s he?’
    ‘ He worked for me a for a while, about a year or so ago. He
went to St Martins and everything, but he couldn’t get a job, so I
took him on, designing ladies underwear. Then he met some rich
older bloke who whisked him off to Paris. Last I heard of him, he
was back in England designing clothes for Chaucers.’
    ‘ Chaucers? They make clothes for old women.’
    ‘ It was the only job Ralf could get. I think he’d love to show
off his other designs.’
    ‘ Alright. Well give me his details and I’ll go and see
him.’
    ‘ He’s a prickly character, I warn you. But I don’t think it’s
anything you can’t handle.’
     
    Iris was
never one to procrastinate, and so when she left Tansy, she went to
the head office of Chaucers, round the back of Oxford Street.
Chaucers were a high street shop that sold a lot of tweed and
corduroy for older women, and not the sort of thing Iris had in
mind for her fashion show. But Tansy seemed positive that their
clothes weren’t indicative of what Ralf designed for himself and
she was willing to take a chance.
    Stepping
into the dark reception area, she wondered if it would be easier to
get to see someone here than it had been at Tanner Beresford. The
girl behind the reception desk was dressed in a Chaucer’s signature
tweed two-piece and a silk shirt with pearls. Her brown hair set
just-so and she looked as though she’d stepped straight out