A Nightingale in Parkleigh Square

Chapter Five

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"T his has to be brilliant ," said Nina. "Better than anything we've ever dreamed of for anybody else. It has to be the best of all of us together if we're going to impress somebody like Simone Van Stewart."

"Impress the founder of the Van Stewart line?" said Molly, with a hiked eyebrow. "How do you say those words and not turn into a mess two seconds later?"

One of the lunchtime customers at the pub fired up the jukebox with a noisy eighties rock song. Molly blocked one ear. "So if we pool our best talents, what do we have?" she said.

"Elegance, taste, and relevance, that's what they want," said Nina. "We should concentrate on this window as reflecting the future, the opening of the new store. That's the key to what they want."

"So — big tree, expensive ornaments, quality props," said Molly. "We'll get a list of top-tier vendors and contact them tomorrow, we should still have time to book almost anything we need. All we need is to know what that is, right? The million dollar question."

"The theme is the new branch," said Nina, opening one of the books on modern design and decor. "It's London, it's the heart of a historic lane, it's meant to be the city debut of one of Paris's most iconic brands."

"So it's about London, really," said Bradley. "Maybe a travel theme, like, the journey there, with London landmarks or something."

"London calling," said Molly, snapping her fingers. "They want it to be about the line, so we feature the latest in travel clothes, anything with tweed or herringbone, iconic British fabrics — coats, hats scarves. Contemporary clothes with some vintage nods in the props. Like leather travel bags, postcards, memorabilia."

"The tree could be modern, maybe metal, like a skyscraper," said Nina, making a sketch on her napkin. "We use ornaments that are sleek and metallic, suggesting train travel, aviation. Industrialism in the motif, in essence."

"I think it's great," said Molly. "If we pull all of this together, it will be on par with anything in Paris. It's the perfect homage, right?"

"We have to know more about the company and its work," said Nina, making a list. "And about Simone personally." It might be helpful to know more about the designer's own vision for the company. "Photos of the latest fashions, especially if there's a new line for the London store, because that's what we should emphasize. Natalia will pick the clothes, we only have to make certain our decor matches any combination."

"Maybe we can have the tree custom made by a metal designer if we act quickly," said Molly.

"I could look at a list of sculptors and bespoke home decor designers locally," said Bradley.

The bartender came to take their order. "What'll it be?" he asked.

"You don't have a knish tucked in a freezer in the back, do you?" asked Molly.

"A what?"

"A knish. You've heard of it, pastry, sweet or savory inside?" said Molly. "Delight of Jewish delis across the northern seaboard? Never mind, make it a turkey sandwich for me."

"Just a pasta salad," said Nina.

"Cheeseburger and chips," said Bradley, looking at the menu. "Are those Doritos or some flavor of Lays?"

"Neither," said the bar owner. "Strictly deep-fried potatoes." He took the menus and left.

"I don't think chips are the same thing here," said Nina to Bradley. "He means French fries."

"I like fries, so it's all good."

"Maybe he could be more polite about explaining — what's with the rudeness, anyway? England's supposed to be this fun place, not stiff upper lips and manners anymore," said Molly. "Have we ended up in the wrong part of London or something?"

"It's one person, Molly," said Nina, laughing. "We come from one of the rudest cities on the planet, remember? Think of housewives in Queens when they yell for their husbands across the restaurant? They could outfreeze Natalia Gaborelli on their nicest days."

"New Yorkers aren't rude, sometimes they just call it like they see it," said Bradley. "Like ... French humor is dry, so it sounds rude."

"If it sounds rude, is it rude?" asked Molly. "Let's define things as what they are, okay?"

"I think the bartender is a little cranky because he doesn't have any help and this place is packed," said Nina. "It's because we picked a place that has regulars and doesn't have tables to spare."

"Excuse me, I think any place with an open sign means anybody can come in, right?" said Molly. "It's open, so we're in. If they have a problem, they should turn the sign around."

Nina glanced at Bradley, who smiled back, finding the same humor. They both turned to Molly, who looked confused. "What?" she said.

"Never mind," said Nina.

More customers came inside as they were leaving, a couple of men who looked like factory workers, wearing greasy overalls. A teenager in a soccer jersey came jogging out with a paper food sack, taking off on a bicycle.

"We should order a pizza if we're working late tonight," said Molly. "Bradley, be our slave and look up someplace that delivers. Grubbug London or whatever."

"It could be a long night, so maybe we should focus on the coffee instead," said Nina.

Upstairs, near an open window, a girl was sprinkling colored glass over a molten blob, melted over the end of a long pipe. A scarf wrapped around her head held back her messy hair. On the pavement below, the little boy Nina remembered seeing on the first day was digging a broken-looking radio out of the rubbish bin. Despite the weather, he wore a t-shirt, exposing his brown arms to the cold, and a pair of short pants with old tennis shoes.

"I think it probably doesn't work anymore," said Nina, noticing someone had cut off its power cord.

"I know," he said. He had a light accent, an island one. "I don't care. I only want it for spare parts." He put the radio in an old shopping bag. It already contained split electronic power cables and a shattered CD player.

Is he homeless? He didn't look malnourished; his clothes were a little tatty but clean. He seemed intent on salvaging a broken solar charger in a crate containing light bulbs and carpet scraps, not paying any attention to Nina now that they were done talking.

"Val? We need all the celebrity facts on designer Simone Van Stewart and her clothes," said Molly, placing the call on 'speaker' as she laid her phone on the studio's folding table. "Biography, who's who stuff, magazine articles, whatever you can find."

"I think there was a feature in a Vanity Fair issue," said Val. "I'll put some stuff together and toss it to you in a couple of days."

"Try tomorrow, okay?" said Molly. "We need it ASAP, so we can compare it to the list of companies we'll be tapping over here."

"Okay, but no guarantees. I told Selena I'd help her with the thing at the library, so I'll be in and out for a couple of days. So you're still on the job?"

"As of right now," said Nina. "It's a trial, so it all depends on what we present to them."

"Hey, I knew you'd think of something. That's why I bought you some time."

"Val, can you look up the cost of rushing a shipment from home to here?" said Bradley. "I think maybe I know an artist who could create a skyscraper Christmas tree, but he's in Jersey."

"Okay, looking it up. I'll text you."

"You're one in a million, Valarie," said Molly. "Wish us luck, okay? We could be in for a major failing over this thing in a couple of days."

"Hey, what about some optimism? Oops, gotta go, somebody's on the other line." Val disconnected.

Nina raised the window's shade. The apartment with the little tree had a child's face pressed against the glass, peering out. A woman in a knit sweater and kerchief pulled him away and began combing his hair, as a little girl lifted a kitten out of the tree.

"So, let's put the pieces together," said Molly, taping the napkin notes to the nearest blank wall, illuminated by the window's sunlight. "Think big icons. Big Ben, big landmarks, recognizable scenery."

"A London phone booth?" said Nina.

"Trains?" said Bradley. "Or — the London Eye. Everybody knows it, right?"

"We should look up some antique dealers for the luggage and postcards. What if we pick three landmarks and have them customized by a craftsman on identical scale?" said Nina. "The theme is arriving in London, the meeting of contemporary fashion with tradition — we deck the metal tree with simple lights and use metal ornaments, but sparingly, so we don't detract from the clothes."

"I like it," said Molly. "I think we can start as soon as we see the fashion line."

"Natalia can help us with that," said Nina. "She has catalogs of all the clothes — she probably has copies of sketches for all the designs they're debuting."

The kids playing in the yard outside had seen them at the window and waved, so Nina and Molly waved back. The little boy made a face, pulling his cheeks out with his tongue extended, which Molly copied. The kids shrieked with laughter.

"We need to pick the landmarks and the crafts medium before we present this — and have a sketch of all three and the tree," said Molly. "Let's just mock up something in a digital sketch with the kind of clothes we imagine she'll choose, and add the details."

"It's modern yet vintage, and striking," said Bradley. "I think it'll be a hit."

"It's all about what Natalia says, and what she thinks represents Van Stewart," said Molly. "For all we know, she's picturing a Christmas space craft, or diamond-covered mirror balls. We're totally firing into the dark."

"We have to trust our instincts," said Nina. "We always have before." It shouldn't change things because their client had more money. We have to pretend this job is no different, that we're going the extra mile the way we always do.

A knock at the door interrupted them. "Expecting someone?" asked Molly.

"Maybe it's our landlord," said Bradley.

"Tell him we might need our deposit back," joked Molly. Nina pretended to laugh as she opened the door, but on the other side were the kids from the apartment across from them. The little boy held a loaf of artisan bread wrapped in brown paper.

"For ... us?" asked Nina, confused. Both kids nodded.

"Thanks," said Nina. "Do we tip delivery people here?" she joked, still in a state of surprise. The kids looked at each other, giggled, then shook their heads. They took off for the stairs.

"What is that?" said Molly, joining her to pull back the paper. "Is that homemade?"

"I think so." She looked out the window, at the apartment where the kids had been playing earlier. The woman was standing there, watching. When she saw Nina, she waved.

"I guess that's our welcome to the neighborhood," said Molly. She broke off a piece. "Mmm, wow, that's good."

"Nice to know we have welcoming neighbors," said Nina, gazing out the window. The woman across the yard adjusted one of the little candle lights on the Christmas tree so its flame flickered upright.