A Nightingale in Parkleigh Square

Chapter Two

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"L ondon?" said Molly . "London where? New York? Ohio? Oklahoma?"

"London, England," said Nina.

The others stared at her, then Molly laughed. "You're funny," she said. "All right, comedy hour at the Display by Design, everybody." She clapped her hands in mock applause.

"Wait, what does it say?" Bradley took the letter in hand, adjusting his glasses. "No. No way," he said. "Molly, it says 'London, England.'"

Molly snatched it away, her eyes scanning the letter's contents, until they grew as dazed as Nina's own. "Van Stewart's," she said. "The Paris label."

"The designer?" said Val, her jaw dropping. "Like, seriously. Dresses, swag on the Milan runway." She looked from Nina to Molly, seeking confirmation. Shoving her hand into a pile of magazines on the desk, she opened an Oscars red carpet issue to an ad for Van Stewart's couture, featuring a sultry woman in an expensive little black dress. She held it out like proof.

"I know," said Nina. "They're opening a branch in London, this is their first year of staging with Skyline's international service."

"No. No way," said Molly. "I can't believe this, it's some kind of joke."

"Vouchers, expense account details, contact info," said Nina, laying each page down in turn. "It's all here, Molly."

They stared at each other. The other two members of the team were silent. Then Molly laughed, and Nina joined in. It swept the room, as if a bubble had burst and showered down amazement like confetti.

"What about Madison?" said Bradley.

"I guess they got somebody else," said Molly. "They must have been impressed by last year's work. I mean, it was our best — but every year was our best, it's not like they noticed, we were working our tails off for nothing up to now." She looked at the rest of the paperwork, which contained the details. "Holy cow, we have to be in London in five days."

"What?!" Nina grabbed the top sheet, the description of the assignment. Molly was right, the scheduled meeting was next week. "Oh, my gosh," she said. "We have to pack. We have to wrap all of our assignments —"

"We have to have a dossier ready to present by next Friday," said Molly.

"That soon? We don't have enough time," said Nina. A cage of butterflies had exploded inside her, all fluttering everywhere at once. "There's so much to do — we can't just leave the business for another country without making arrangements first."

"Hey, I'm not taking vacation until January now," said Val. "Your office manager is here and running this place beats cleaning the utility closet over the holidays."

"One problem answered, then," said Molly. "We might need something from back home, so we need someone here, definitely."

Bradley raised his hand, timidly. "Can I come with you?" he asked. "It's just — I'm on break from college, and my holiday plans fell through — and it's London —"

"Of course you can. We wouldn't leave our assistant behind, would we?" said Nina. "We will need all hands on deck with a job like this." Imagine all the things that had to be done, from coordinating shipments to decorating at all hours to unveil the window's showcase in time for the Christmas season.

A window in a London store. Her head was spinning. How amazing is this? It's unbelievable that we've landed a dream job like this one. The sky would be the limit in the future — they could expand, work jobs for small designers in Manhattan, decorate museum lobbies in places like Hartford or Boston, maybe. No more fears about whether enough local business could fill this month's expense gap, because who wouldn't want to hire the Queens team that decorated a designer's store in a city where an actual Queen had ruled until recently?

****

T he only job left to be planned was the New Year's-themed window for the wedding dress boutique, which Nina designed in champagne and silver ornaments recycled from last year's decor for the Italian restaurant down the street from their business. Everything else had already been planned, and the only two businesses to be decorated in November were the organic bakery and the designer's boutique.

By working a twenty-four hour cycle, Nina managed to finish the wedding shop and the boutique's plans. Valarie's cousin Selena, whom they hired part-time whenever business was at its peak, was on break from college and had agreed to finish both windows according to strict instruction by the Thanksgiving deadline.

"Somebody will have to fly back and check on things at least once if not twice." Nina munched a mini egg roll from the box of Asian takeout. She wiped her fingers on a napkin before correcting the caption to the side of a photograph from the Italian restaurant's lobby last Christmas. The digital version of their portfolio for the presentation on Friday was almost finished.

"Naturally," said Molly, who was working on the blue and silver Christmas ball garland for the bakery, twisting on balls of varying shades and sizes, like sea foam bubbles of blue clustered together. "We'll be back right after the job's done. I mean, the deadline's going through to nearly Christmas, but that's probably just calculating time in case they want changes made to the design."

"Christmas in Queens, not Christmas in London, right?" Nina switched the photo of the children's library's tree with one featuring the boutique's Christmas fashions displayed in her 'diamonds and roses' themed decor.

"Okay, clothes next," said Molly, looking at her own list, a long 'to do' one. "There's not much either of us can throw in the bag that looks like it should be in a designer store, right? Work gear is a given, but we better have some nicer things. Look on eBay — I'm thinking, anything with a designer retail label that doesn't have a stain. Plus, you know, we need some basic business clothes. Maybe Paula will give us a discount on some of her stuff? You know, some original that isn't getting much interest on the boutique's mannequin."

"I'll just pack all my Van Stewarts, I should be fine," answered Nina. "The evening gown or just the business chic?"

They both giggled. "Let's look for something for you, too," said Molly. "I'll call Paula in the morning."

"We better tell Bradley. Does he even own a suit?"

Announcements blared over Heathrow's P.A., sounding like nonsense to travelers busy collecting luggage from carousels. Molly rounded up the last stray bag containing decorating supplies as Bradley shouldered three more knapsacks.

"Did you find the little hard case?" Nina asked. She pulled the handle out on the large rolling suitcase and a smaller one.

"The sewing kit? I think Bradley strapped it to one of his bags," said Molly. "Where's the list? Is this the lot?"

Nina, the most organized brain of the team, had the inventory on her phone of how many bags and what each contained. "That's it," she said. She looked around at the crowded baggage terminal, the doors in the distance opening to the sunshine outside. "I guess we should find a cab. You have the address handy of the place we're staying?"

"Programmed into my phone's GPS," said Molly. "Address in my notes, we are ready."

"Will we be driving past Big Ben?" asked Bradley. He nearly doubled over under the weight of the luggage, but managed to stand upright again. "It's just — I've never seen it, and this is London."

"You'll have to check Molly's GPS," said Nina.

Outside, the air was cold and slightly windy, and Nina's free hand tried to bundle her coat more closely. It was winter — naturally it wasn't warm today, but why did traveling far from home make any little breeze feel twice as cold?

The cabbie helped them load everything into the cab's trunk, and the three of them squeezed into the back seat. Bradley was holding the sewing kit since there hadn't been enough room to stow it with the rest, and the backpack of his clothes and textbooks was riding on Molly's lap, with her phone atop it running the London map app she had downloaded last night.

The address Molly gave the driver didn't seem to be near any of the famous landmarks as Bradley had hoped. They were driving past buildings that were modern architecture, and stores that weren't very different from the ones on their block in Queens. A wedding dress shop, and a shop providing custom car mats.

"Not exactly a postcard," commented Molly. "The plane did take off, right?"

"Every street can't be Dickensian, can it?" said Nina. "We're renting a cheaper place." Some of the shops were decorating for Christmas already, with wreaths and greenery swags.

The cabbie overheard her remark and chuckled. "True words, those," he commented.

Bradley was trying to snap photos through his window, capturing blurred images. He was brimming with excitement anyway. Nina felt as if the whole world was an excited blur, her stomach full of knots at the thought of unpacking, and meeting with the store's manager tomorrow. Oh, to be like Molly, who's never fazed by anything. Look how cool she seems, not like she's about to lose this morning's orange juice. Why was she, Nina, worrying so much about what was about to happen?

Past some drab-looking apartment complexes, at a long, narrow lane, the cabbie parallel parked. "Here you are," he said.

"Thanks." Nina counted out the pound notes from the A.T.M.'s currency exchange, and climbed out behind Bradley, who was trying to load as much luggage as possible in his arms in one try.

The air still seemed brisk and biting, and the atmosphere was less bustling than the airport — less cheery with fewer Christmas decorations, except for some large-bulb colored lights around one of the upper windows, and a blow mold wreath on the door of the pub down the street.

"Key's in the little hideaway box above the door," reported Molly, reading the check-in directions from their host on RentSpace.com. "All utilities and services operational except internet, but we packed that wireless cell signal modem. And there's probably a public library around here, right?"

"Right," laughed Nina. "Let's go in."

The key was concealed above the door frame as promised, and they let themselves into a large room with two windows facing down into a closed yard with rubbish bins and old appliances stacked. A large folding table with a few chairs occupied the middle of the room. An electric kettle was the only appliance in the kitchenette corner, except for a mini fridge.

Nina opened the adjoining room, a small one with a couple of folding cots and foam mattresses pushed to one side. "Home sweet home," she said. She opened the blinds. "So what do you think?"

"It's workable," said Nina, putting down the bags, next to the table. "It'll look better when the lights are on and we have some actual projects to work with. Imagine some greenery on the table, a couple of snowflake wreaths being assembled. Perfect."

"Yeah, I think so," said Bradley, tossing his backpack on one of the chairs. "Besides, you two are staying at a hotel, mostly. It's not like I'll miss my apartment's wall posters or anything staying here. That's the benefit of being a guy, actually."

"We'll put a Christmas tree up," said Nina. "It'll be great." She put her hands in her pockets, surveying the view outside, where some bags of rubbish were piled. A little boy was poking through one of the bins, a pile of old food tins next to him. One of the flats across had a tiny Christmas tree near its window, decorated with little fake plastic candles.

"Well, it was definitely affordable," said Molly. "The owner's email said that a lot of people put in studios here. I guess there's not a lot of foot traffic, so not a lot of reason to open more shops than what they've already got."

"So ... I guess you two should sort your luggage from the rest," said Bradley. "I could make a cup of coffee or some tea. It looks like somebody left some tea bags, some instant coffee in a jar."

"There's Perry Como Christmas tunes on my phone," joked Nina.

Now that they were here, the rush over, they felt deflated and exhausted. Nina's stomach was empty, and her mind was too crowded with worry. At the end of a long plane trip was an empty room and anxiety about tomorrow waiting for them, and some packets of cocoa mix that looked worse for wear. Even Perry Como might not improve it.

"Tomorrow will be the biggest day of our collective careers, I know," said Nina. "Look. Maybe we should get away for a little bit. We're in London, we'll be working like crazy after tomorrow. Let's go out for awhile. We don't have to go check in at the hotel yet."

Molly exhaled. "Maybe you're right," she said. "Crazy busy after today, right? There's got to be someplace to eat close by, we could go have fish and chips or Yorkshire pudding or something."

"Bradley, you were talking about seeing Old London, what did you have in mind?" Nina turned to their assistant, who looked nonplussed by the question. "What's a good option?"

"Um, well, there was this bus tour," he said. "They serve tea and cake and pudding and stuff while you ride around in this double-decker bus, seeing the city. All the landmarks, you know. It's pretty popular around Christmastime."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go," said Molly.

"Really?" he said.

"Sure. What time does it start?" said Nina.

"Let's see. It's three, and I think it starts around half past four," he said, checking his phone.

"Time for a stop, then," said Nina.

"Yeah, we need some basics from the store, don't we? Real coffee, a real coffee pot, some food." Molly made the list by counting on her fingers.

"I was thinking maybe we'd stop by work," hinted Nina.

The rideshare driver twisted around in his seat. "Where to?" he asked, as he switched off the car's satellite radio.

"Two fourteen Parkleigh Square," said Nina, reading the address from her phone. "Is it close?"

"Not really. Never been there, I take it?" He pulled into the lane.

"Fresh off the plane, as of today," said Molly. "We're working there. The new Van Stewart boutique."

"The what? Oh, yeah, I read about that. Posh design house from Paris is settin' up a new branch. They're moving into the Billington's building."

"What happened to Billington's?" asked Molly.

"Closed ages ago," he scoffed. "They were a posh department store, dated back before the war — that's what it says on all the tours. That's what made it famous, during the London bombings, most of that block got pummeled to bits. You can't miss the place, it's fairly grand."

"Sounds like it," said Nina.

The rideshare driver picked a different route from the driver at the airport, so the view through the window was more like the iconic view of London when it was Victorian and not a city with skyscrapers. Anyone who had a house like these with a garden must be a millionaire — the shops were filled with expensive couture goods, the kind of businesses that hired Skyline Inspiration's local satellites to dress their scenes for Christmas.

Soon they would be filled with scenes featuring poinsettias, teddy bears — probably Christmas diamonds, only real ones, not the costume version Nina had created. Probably a famous London counterpart to Skyline would be decorating places like Harrods with multiple trees and designer Christmas decor.

"Coming up on Parkleigh Square, next turn," said the driver.

"Can you wait for us?" Molly asked. "We'll only be a minute, we just want to look at it."

"All right," he said. Around the next corner, he found a place to park.

The future site of Van Stewart's would be hard to miss. It was the central building in Parkleigh Square's businesses: a magnificent brick one with two huge display windows and a copper green rotunda for its roof, an upper story of massive green-blue glass framed by molding.

Posted in one window was a 'coming soon' notice with Van Stewart's famous designer logo. Nina peered inside, but the view was blocked by painter's cloths. It must still be undergoing renovation, despite hiring a team to decorate its Christmas windows.

"Look at this street — there's a Chanel's right there. Oh — and two down, a window featuring Louis Vuitton," said Molly. "Fancy clothes, fancy perfume, even a shop for fancy stationery. That candy shop has chocolate cell phones that I swear look real enough to text on. Imagine what this place will be like for Christmas. Are we going to be dressed classy enough for this place? I feel like I need a makeover."

All these shops with designer brands would have Christmas windows — the chocolate shop would probably have an amazing candy display. Nina could imagine everything draped in greenery like a scene from A Christmas Carol . Already, a tree stood in the middle of the square, ready for decoration. A crew driving a cherry picker was putting up lights.

Against the white backdrop hiding the old Billington's window view, three faces were reflected staring, among the side profiles walking by with shopping bags. It made them look a little like pale ghosts — Nina realized she felt those tight knots getting even tighter inside her stomach. What lay on the other side of the painter's drapery was going to change their future, maybe forever.

She could feel Molly shivering a little, a sign of nerves underneath the excitement. Even Bradley looked like his Christmas cheer was getting chased away, surveying the imposing giant of a designer's new headquarters. It was like a fashion lion, waiting to pounce.

"Anybody else feel like a cup of tea?" asked Molly.

"I think so," said Nina.