A Nightingale in Parkleigh Square

Chapter Nine

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A placard calendar of days was counting down to Van Stewart's window reveal, propped in the left-hand one. Bradley posed the newly-made-over elves around it — first, they were painting little wooden toys, then decorating a little pipe cleaner tree. Today they were working on Santa's list.

The window's interior glass was covered in white paper, two bands of white ribbon meeting at a bow in the middle like a present waiting to be opened.

"It's a bit bourgeois , isn't it?" said Natalia. "Whimsy isn't the heart of the collection."

"It draws a crowd," said Vincent. "Isn't that the point? We want anticipation."

Natalia was silent after this.

Sandwiched between its cocoon and that of the red drapes serving as the backdrop to the scene, Nina heard them talking. She paused in the process of suspending the shimmering snowflake crystals from transparent wires, each one with a built-in solar light activated wirelessly by the solar panel.

This wasn't a compliment being paid to them, but another put-down. Clearly, they couldn't impress Natalia with any clever gimmicks. But if the people who stopped out of curiosity became future shoppers, it might help.

She put the last snowflake back in the box. Later, Molly and Bradley were bringing Santa, dressed in his new herringbone suit with an overcoat made from khaki canvas the same color as Van Stewart's latest men's trench coat — a matching hat made from the same herringbone print, all remainder pieces that Molly had persuaded Natalia's assistant to request from the design staff.

How could Natalia not be impressed by Santa Claus rocking the latest Van Stewart's menswear with his luggage sporting a couple of vintage British toys? Nina was placing their chips on this angle, and the modern chrome Christmas sculpture, as the ones that would impress.

She stepped from behind the drapes, into the busy world of the fashion house, where new mannequins were being unwrapped from yards of bubble layers and cellophane. A girl on a cell phone was climbing the staircase with three elegant gowns draped over one arm; two men were trying to position an antique parlor table 'just so', with a crate of mannequin heads next to it.

"It's kind of a madhouse," commented Vincent. She turned around, finding him unpacking a box of hats.

"It's fashion. Isn't it supposed to be?" she answered.

He laughed. "Right. Just when I think I'm used to it, something always happens to surprise me, and make me think it's a little more drama than necessary." He placed a stack of tweed hats on top, resembling the herringbone one that Nina had mocked up with wire and glue.

Nina hesitated, then said what was on her mind. "I never said 'thanks' before, for sticking up for us with Natalia," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"I overheard you that day, when you told her to give us a chance," she answered.

"That was all you. I was moved by your speech," he said.

"Right. It was very inspirational," said Nina, without believing him.

"Really. I could tell you were a fighter, you weren't going to give up because of someone else's mistake," he said. "I thought you deserved a chance. Natalia would still be searching if she hadn't agreed."

"I'm not sure this has made her feel any better," Nina pointed out.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "She's more impressed than she admits," he answered. He smiled, and picked up the stack of hats from the box.

For that moment, her heart had changed its rhythm, as if pattering against her chest. Molly planted this crazy idea , she thought. She tried to clear her throat, but it felt more like a tremor.

"What part of the U.S. is your accent?" she asked. He didn't sound like he was from the northwest — maybe the middle states?

"It's Wichita," he answered. "Fashion capital of the U.S." He grinned because she laughed, then added, "I grew up in Kansas, but I spent my college years in New York. Who knows, maybe we ran into each other and didn't know it."

"Maybe." She pictured it, although she knew she shouldn't. He was a stranger then, and he was still one now, wasn't he? "I just wanted to say thanks."

"If you insist. You're welcome." He carried away the hats. "Come in early sometime for the grand tour," he said, turning back as he walked, momentarily. "You should see this place behind the scenes."

"I'll think about it," she answered. Her lips had smiled, unable to stop. She turned away, being her own inner scold for sounding coy just now. What if he made the mistake of thinking it meant something?

At the studio, Bradley and Molly were painting a set of salvaged mannequins for the display, using a satin sheen ivory spray paint to make them look like new again.

The studio had taken on an eclectic look after the last few days, between the random body mannequins and some more salvaged furniture. Santa Claus was waiting to one side, with an open leather valise packed with a vintage candy tin drum and a reproduction Steiff bear.

"What do you think?" Molly asked. "Oh, cool, the paint made an outline on the drape cloths. Could we use that as art?" A human figure's shape remained behind where the mannequins had been standing against the wall's paint canvas.

"How about if the jeans shop in Fleisching hires us?" said Nina. "We could go whole graffiti for the background. And to answer your first question, the mannequins look great."

She turned to the Christmas animatronic. "He still needs something to finish him, though," she said. "More toys? More accessories?"

"Everything still needs something," remarked Molly. "That's what I hate about this stage of the process." She helped Bradley pull down the tarps. "The tree still needs 'something magic' and we'd better hope it's the chrome ornaments."

"When you call the shipping company, try not to be too much of a New Yorker right away," said Nina. "Save that in case things go bad."

"Whatever." Molly bundled the cloths aside.

Santa needed more toys. Maybe a vintage umbrella would help also. She imagined others as spares, tucked with the luggage, or maybe a cool one open in the window with a British flag printed on it. Tourists shops sold that kind — for the others, she needed some dealers in antique and vintage goods.

"Hi, Val, can you give me that list of antique shops you made for us?" Nina crossed the lane, noticing a broken hoover that would soon be the property of Ki. "I need some place with a lot of selection and more affordable prices." The expensive ornaments and the customized chrome tree had eaten into their budget — right now it was covered by their own expense card until final billing.

"Let me look for it. I'm on the phone with the manager from the bridal shop. I swear, my cousin cannot file her nails without having questions about how to do it, she's like, totes scatterbrained," said Val. "Now she wants to know if we have spare ornaments in the same colors to make a garland for the cashier's desk. I'm like 'seriously'? Did you promise that without asking?"

"You can call me back." Nina disconnected, and was putting away her phone as the window above opened wider, a woman's head sticking out.

"Did you say you were looking for a vintage shop?" she called.

"That's right," answered Nina, looking up.

"I can give you the addresses of a couple of junk shops. It's not all fancy goods — one of the places has fantastic stuff and the other is really big."

"Sounds great."

"Come up," said the woman, gesturing.

The door opened to a stairwell, and at its top were doors leading to different studios or flats. She recognized the right one by its position, and also by the glass ornaments hanging on the door.

She knocked. "It's open," called a voice inside. Nina peered into a studio, then stepped inside, surrounded by glass sculptures, twisting, bubbling, and spiraling in various hues of color. A hot kiln was cooling down, a long pole leaning against its metal table. Fractured bits of glass color were divided into bowls and jars, scattered across a scorched work slab,

Nina's breath sucked itself away. "This is ... incredible," she said. "You're amazing."

The girl pulled off her kerchief, releasing a mane of frizzy hair. "Thanks," she said. "I love it. Basically, I make a pittance off the internet, but it's the creation that makes it worthwhile."

She put on a scarf. "Sorry I yelled. I couldn't help overhearing you through the window, and I was on my way out, so I thought I'd offer to show you where to find the shops. You live across the way," she added. "I've seen you coming and going — three of you, right? The other two I see almost every day at the pub. It's like the entire lane lives off Ted's sandwiches and ham pies."

"Yeah, we're a window decor team, just working here until the season's over," said Nina. "That was my partner Molly and our assistant Bradley you saw. I'm Nina, by the way."

"I'm Reina," the girl answered. "You put the flier under my door, didn't you? The one about some sort of 'Friendsgiving' party."

"That was us. We wanted to get to know who else was here. Basically we wanted to stave off the blues since none of us are having Thanksgiving at home this year," she said.

"Oh, yeah, Thanksgiving. They have that in the States — the Pilgrims landing and eating a turkey, or something like that?" said Reina. "I repurposed your flier, by the way." She showed Nina a collage on canvas, in which the yellow 'Friendsgiving' flier's yellow leaves and font became part of the texture for a sunflower's petals.

"My secret side talent is paper art," she said. "That's why I go to the junk shops and secondhand sales, looking for ephemera."

"I could use the help," said Nina. "We're down to a deadline, and finishing touches are sometimes the key to perfection."

"I don't know what you're looking for, but there's all sorts of stuff to choose from," said Reina. She switched off the lights, and the window's sunlight filtered through some glass orbs hanging like a mobile near the window: a collection of planets.

The one shop was big, more like a supermarket converted into secondhand sales space. A lot of its merchandise consisted of garments, but Nina found a section for luggage and household items which had some marked-down umbrellas, a black one with an interesting handle having potential. Another stall had a vintage one in a subtle plaid that was nearly perfect in color shades for the Van Stewart collection.

"Do you want me to take you to a city stall selling rain gear?" asked Reina, amused. She was holding an armload of old sheet music.

"No, I need them to look distinctive," said Nina. "Although I was thinking about getting one with the Union flag's motif?"

"I can help you find a place that sells them — the sort of 'tacky tourist gear' as some people call it," said Reina. "There's one not far from the secondhand shops, near the place where I buy my colored glass chips. You'll probably find some postcards if you want them, too."

"I think I have enough of those for my project, but maybe I need some for friends," said Nina, as she perused the toys. "I wish they had something vintage here." It was mostly plastic toddler toys on the shelves.

"For that, you need our second stop," said Reina.

The next shop was less modern, and definitely more eclectic — right away, Nina spotted some vintage glass ornaments in one of the cases featuring mercury and spun glass decorations, a set of twelve beautiful flowered Christmas globes with an old-fashioned poinsettia design crafted with a Scandinavian knit pattern's symmetry.

"Gorgeous," she said, looking into the case. "Look at the antique books." Old storybooks, with filigree lettering and fairytale pictures of gnomes and fairies, perfect for a collection of the Brothers Grimm.

"They have some really nice things, like I said," Reina answered. "A bit costly, so I don't buy very many things, but I've found some amazing postcards and antique photos."

Some cases held antiques way out of budget, but a few vintage items were promising, especially a wind-up tin train that looked perfect for Santa's bag. Nina searched for a price tag, casting a longing glance back at the books and the ornaments. Those weren't a good fit for the window scene, but she was curious about the price on the ornaments, because European glasswork like that was special.

Someone was at the clerk's counter, receiving a wrapped purchase. As soon as the person turned around, she recognized Lea, the girl from the bus tour. After a second's confused glance, Lea smiled.

"We met before, didn't we?" she said.

"On the Plum Pudding Bus Tour," said Nina, laughing. "I wondered if you would remember me."

"Yeah, of course," she said. "I'm picking up a package for my boss. It's the season for antique lovers to grow misty-eyed for ornaments."

"Which ones did you buy?" Nina looked into the case, and noticed the Scandinavian ones were gone. "The poinsettias? They were beautiful, I can't imagine you won't find a home."

"My boss is building up a collection — it goes better wholesale than individual pieces at auction, unless those are rare, so it's my job to track down enough bargains to make a profitable lot," said Lea. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm shopping for some last-minute vintage bargains," said Nina.

"Right, you're a — window stager, isn't it?"

Nina nodded. "It's down to the wire," she said. "I don't know if that means anything here, but at home, it means there's only days left until we pull everything together."

"Maybe I'll stop by and see it," said Lea. She smiled. "What are you looking for?"

"Toys and a few vintage travel items," said Nina. "The budget gets tight at this point, so I look for some make do substitutes."

"Try this shop." Lea scribbled an address on the back of a paper scrap from her purse. "I've had joy finding some interesting items there before. Sometimes the owner will loan them for a deposit."

"Thanks, that would be better than buying," said Nina. "We always end up with extra stuff — not a problem at home, but here it is, unless we want to ship freight home."

"Talk to me, I might can help you find collectors for any nice pieces — reduced price, obviously, but it would be better than nothing," said Lea. She collected her package, waving goodbye to Nina and the clerk. Nina entered the address of the recommended shop into her phone — it was only a few lanes away. Lea made it sound as if she might find some useful items, so it would be worth stopping by.

Reina had found some vintage Christmas cards in a box. "Aren't these fantastic?" she said to Nina. "I love the colors. It's so happy, all the festive reds and greens." She held up one with a vintage holly design.

"I just bumped into a friend who recommended a shop nearby," said Nina. "I think I might go check it out, do you want to come?"

"No, I have to go restock my color tints, then go on to my real job, which is, sadly, waiting tables at a Pizza Palace," said Reina. "You should go, though. By the weekend, there's always more traffic in these places, and sometimes the best bits are scooped up before you can give them a second thought."

Nina made her purchases, as Reina bought the Christmas cards and sheet music for a Christmas collage she was creating, one of the few commissioned ones, she explained. "Everyone prefers to buy the glassworks." She put the papers into her shoulder bag. "But starving artists take a commission wherever they can, and the number of glasswork orders are down this year, and I do need to eat."

"Your work is really beautiful, so you must charge premium rates," said Nina.

"Undiscovered artists work for smaller fees than famous ones, and the master artists in their trade," said Reina. "But sometimes a special order comes in that makes up for the smaller ones. I make copies of antiques sometimes, or make a sculpture that someone wants for a focal piece."

They exited. "I'm sorry I didn't come to your dinner party," said Reina. "I had to work. But maybe next time — or we could have a drink at the pub sometime."

"Love to," said Nina. "Thanks for the vintage tips." The toy train would definitely be part of the window scene, and the umbrellas might be the missing pieces for Santa, which would finish that part of the staging. They were close to the finish, and Nina could almost see the final production in her mind's eye.

The latest shop was filled with antiques, the kind of items she imagined Lea and her boss traded in routinely for the museum and the collectors and auction houses. Even though the oversized Chinese vases and country portraits were out of her price range — and completely wrong for the window — a set of matching antique wooden boxes made for garment storage was perfect for displaying extra clothing items from the Van Stewart line. What if they were stacked in a tier, with scarves and pullovers peeking out? It would look nice next to the luggage, possibly, and it didn't break what was left of the budget.

Molly and Bradley were halfway through assembling the London phone booth on the table. Molly didn't look up, concentrating. "What goods have you scavenged?" she asked.

"Some great umbrellas and a set of gift boxes that will be perfect for displaying the garments as gifts."

"So on the nose it's genius," said Molly. "I had a message from Natalia's assistant, by the way. The selections from the winter line are in, but we have the discretion to change one item for another if we have to, so long as it's part of the winter collection."

"That sounds good," said Nina. "I like having some breathing room, in case there's a color clash." She put the nesting boxes and the umbrellas beside the Christmas tree. Proportionally, it worked, which was a relief. She had the measurements in her phone, but her measuring tape app was sometimes inaccurate.

"Did you hear from the shipping company?" she asked, as Bradley carefully applied the clock's face to the tower.

"Not yet." Nina opened the box containing the final landmark sculpture, the Tower Bridge. "I left three messages. Online, it's still listed as delayed. Maybe there's a weather issue? It won't tell on the website, so Val is on the case."

Nina stared at the Christmas tree. "I wish I could figure out what this needs to be the best," she said.

Bradley put down the tweezers he was using to secure the smaller pieces. "I think I know," he said. "I think it needs movement."

"Movement? Like — a music box," she said, realizing his thought. "You mean it should rotate."

"Exactly," he said. "And I'll bet twenty bucks I know who can make it happen."