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The woman stands, a deep frown creasing her brown forehead as she slowly eyes me up and down.

‘GOOD GOD!’ she booms. ‘Light the furnace, Roberto. Such unfashionable clothes need immediate incineration.’

‘That’s Indira,’ Freddy whispers. ‘Isn’t she great?’

Indira is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Her gleaming skin contrasts dynamically with an angular white suit, worn in the way the designer certainly meant it to be worn – i.e., on a six-foot woman with sweeping cheekbones and not one ounce of fat. Her afro hair is shaved into a sort of rectangle that looks both intimidating and cool. She wears black leather gloves that look perfectly capable of strangling people who wear unfashionable clothes in her presence.

‘I don’t think we need toburnanything,’ I say. ‘There are perfectly good charity shops to donate –’

‘London is the fashion capital of the world,’ Indira booms. ‘Why would we subject it to such horrors? ROBERTO!’ She clicks her fingers. ‘THE FURNACE!’

Behind Indira, a man with plucked eyebrows appears, looking frightened. ‘Sorry, Indira? What?’

‘WEREN’T YOU LISTENING TO ME, YOU IMBECILE?’

‘Do wehavea furnace?’ stammers the man. ‘I thought this building had a zero-carbon footprint –’

‘Hey, Indira.’ Freddy gives a cheery wave. ‘How are you?’

‘Terrible.’ Indira shakes her head, wincing at my oversized cardigan, faded elephant-print yoga pants and supermarket trainers. ‘Are you responsible for bringing this saggy, woollen monstrosity into my style space, Freddy Stark?’

‘Look, I’m open to feedback,’ I say. ‘But this is just plain rude –’

‘Indira, this is Kat.’ Freddy slings an arm around my shoulder. ‘I’ve brought her for you to work your magic on. You like a challenge. Right?’

‘She’s too much of a challenge for me. Take her back to Primark and be done with it.’

‘Primark!’ I am outraged. ‘Do you know about their third-world employment practises? I would never –’

Indira turns her back on me. ‘TAKE HER AWAY.’

CHAPTER17

I watch Indira’s long, lean back, not entirely sure what to say. The rails of clothes seem to be holding their breath, sensing an imminent explosion.

‘Let’s start this again.’ Freddy offers placating hands. ‘Indira, we do need your help. Kat. Tell Indira how badly we need her help.’

I attempt to swallow pride, which is metaphorically cloying and unpleasant: ‘Ms Brown, I’d be very grateful –’

‘Is thatwomanstill here?’ Indira crosses her arms without turning around. ‘She doesn’t know how to dress. But surely, she knows where the door is?’

‘Fine.’ I turn to leave.

‘Wait!’ Freddy grabs my arm. ‘Indira, this is Kat. And I think you two will be great friends. Both strong, dynamic women. You’ll get along like a house on fire. Or you’ll cause a nuclear explosion and burn the place down. Either way, you’ll have fun.’

Indira turns then, raising a perfect eyebrow.

‘Indira, listen.’ Freddy’s voice is higher than usual. ‘Kat founded Little Voice. An award-winning publishing company. She’ll be growing into Europe and the US this year, and she’s in desperate need of a makeover –’

‘Obviously. Why is this my problem?’

‘Basic humanity. Kat is 34 years old and wants to get married and have children.’

Indira’s face breaks into a wide, perfect smile. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so? I lovelove! OfcourseI can help. I am a hopeless romantic. Everyone should find their perfect partner. Speaking of which …’ She draws her leather-gloved hand back and slaps Freddy hard around the face. ‘You slept with that poor model and didn’t call her. Her eyes were red for the photoshoot. Red!’

Freddy takes the slap in the way I would expect by barely flinching, then offering Indira a charming smile.

‘To be fair,’ I never promised –’