less his team’s.
‘No, I . . . No.’
There was an awkward pause.
‘Good, are you?’ Clem nodded towards the Xbox.
‘I can hold my own,’ Simon replied, sitting down facing her, his bare feet inches from her. Clem tried not to look. His toenails looked pre-fungal and there was an alarming sprout of
hair from his big toe. ‘Actually, I’m in an international tournament if you really want to know. It’s pretty major league.’
‘Are you playing for money?’
‘I wish! No, prestige. It’s a pretty tight community, even though it’s international.’
‘Have you never met these people then?’
‘Not face to face,’ he said, with a tone that suggested personal contact was highly over-rated. ‘But in some ways these guys know me better than my mates. We know all each
other’s strengths and weaknesses.’
Clem nodded. ‘Cool,’ she murmured, with her distinct way of saying the word that made it sound like she was conferring the honour rather than acknowledging the fact. She sat back in
the chair, letting it rock slightly. ‘I like it here,’ she nodded, looking up at a framed poster of a Banksy mural. ‘I like what you’ve done with the place. Been here
long?’
‘Six years.’
‘I didn’t realize you were so nearby. I walked here in ten minutes.’
‘Yeah?’ Simon asked brightly, clearly hoping this might become a familiar and well-trodden path. ‘How did you know where I live?’
‘I’ve been stalking you for months, Si,’ she deadpanned.
‘Yeah?’
he asked, even more brightly, before realizing her joke. ‘Oh. Tom.’
There it was – her cue. ‘No, and actually it’s massively important that he doesn’t know I was here,’ she said, crossing her ankle over her knee.
‘Why not?’ Simon asked, his eyes helplessly following her movements.
‘Well, he thinks he might have to sell the flat to find the money to keep the company going, which obviously is a disaster. He loves living in Portobello.’ She leaned forwards and
put her hand on his knee. ‘We have to stop him, Si.’
‘We? How? It’s his company. You know he’ll do whatever it takes to keep it going.’
‘Well, I’ve had an idea. Me and Stella hit pay dirt yesterday. Everything I put on at her stall, she sold.’
‘That’s hardly a surprise. I’ve been telling Tom for ages that you could be an ambassador for the brand. You’re the girl everyone wants to be – or be
with.’
‘So then you agree that it’d be logical for me to set up a lifestyle collection for Alderton Hide?’
‘Well now, hang on a second, I didn’t quite—’
‘I know retail’s not something he’s been prepared to look at before,’ Clem interrupted, too distracted by her own sales pitch. ‘But you know what? Times change, and
we need to adapt to survive. It’s all very well being a niche, high-end bespoke business, but hello? The economy’s in the shit and what we really need right now is a fast cash
injection. I’m convinced a capsule collection’s the way to get it.’
Simon sighed. ‘Even if Tom gave it the OK – and I can tell you now, he won’t – but even if he did, that kind of branch-off would take investment, and ready money’s
precisely what we don’t have at the moment.’
‘But that’s the beauty of it, Si. We wouldn’t need to buy in any new materials. It wouldn’t cost anything at all. We’d make the collection using all the spare
off-cuts that normally get thrown. Stella’s doing some drawings for me of hats and gilets, wrist-warmers, snoods and that kind of thing, and none of them requires big cuts.
And
she’ll do all the technical stuff for free.’
Simon looked at her suspiciously. ‘I don’t understand why you’re here. What do you need me for? You know I don’t have the authority to OK this,’ he asked
warily.
‘I just need you to tell the factory to keep all the off-cuts – they won’t listen to me. They’ll only take your word or Tom’s, and he mustn’t find out.
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