Chrysalis Days & Butterfly Nights [Wattys 2023 Shortlist]

18

18

Helen allowed Luke to enter first, pressing immaculate fingers against Carlo's chest to hold him back. There were racks of clothes. Some covered by thin, plastic covers, promising beauty and style within. Others remained uncovered, revealing delicate features, buttons and pearls and lace placed in precise positions upon the material.

Luke walked forward, mouth open as each step took him closer to clothing like he had never seen before. He reached out toward the first item that he neared and pulled back his hand. It all looked like something from a movie. Pastel colours and bright, brilliant whites that had retained their cleanliness despite them all hanging within a closed room.

He recognised the style only due to Helen mentioning the 'Neo-Regency collection', earlier. The kind of clothing he would expect to have garnished a period tv drama, or movie. Jane Austin, or the Brontës. Yet, it looked fresh and modern, with words trailing along the silk hems and feint reliefs etched into the material. Muslin and batiste and Lawn cloth, all coming together in a style both relevant and historical. The kind of clothing that Luke had seen on tv and ached to wear, though he had, at the time, thought it could never happen. He turned to Helen, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed.

"It's a fashion house, right?" Hesitant feet carried him further into the room, heart beating so hard he could almost see his chest moving. "Here, though? Why not London, Paris, Milan?"

"Please, darling, it's 'couture'." Behind Helen, Carlo made furious, concerned nods at Helen's distinction. "All those other places are 'gauche'. 'Bourgeois'. Compromised by the frivolities of a public that want everything and understand nothing. Not my words, by the way. Here, the art of couture can be freed from petty expectations. And it's cheaper."

A shocked and disapproving gasp escaped Carlo's lips at those last words. As though even mentioning cost diminished the entire enterprise. The shock didn't last long as he raised a hand, showing a large, expensive looking watch upon his wrist. He almost yelped as he saw the time, becoming a little agitated, tapping Helen's arm.

"Ten minutes before this place needs to ben perfect shape. Oh, my god! I've left those ties on the desk!" Carlo disappeared. Then, a second later, reappeared, scowling toward Helen. "Don't steal anything. Not again. And you need to be gone before she makes her rounds. Nice to meet you, Luke, sweetie. Oh, if only you didn't dress. I'd eat you up."

Carlo didn't give Luke or Helen any chance to reply, seeming to move at the speed of light to return to the mezzanine office in the adjoining warehouse. Helen gave a dismissive roll of the eyes before unfolding her arms and heading to join Luke. She took a piece of clothing from the nearest tack, trailing it over her hand before stuffing it back without the slightest care.

"It was a stroke of genius, this line." Another item clacked and scraped from the rail and Helen held it up against Luke, frowning. "An apotheosis. A magnum opus. They are beautiful, aren't they? Everything after this was downhill and she's struggled to stay relevant."

"You and Carlo keep mentioning this 'she'. He seems scared of her." He couldn't help himself. He hadn't dared to touch the clothes, but, as Helen held the outfit against him, Luke's fingers smoothed against the material. "And he called you 'Mimi', at first. I get the feeling there's something more happening here."

"'Mimi'." She gave a laugh, took another look at the outfit and wrinkled her nose. The outfit looped in the air to fall across the top of the rack as she tossed it aside. "Not all dead names are the one's we're born to. Oh, that one!"

Luke knew when someone was avoiding something. He did it himself, when he didn't want to answer any more questions about his relationship status, or when people pried too much into his marriage and his loss of Elaine. He deflected, or outright ignored the questions. Helen did that now. Whoever this 'she' was, they clearly meant something to Helen once.