A flutter of anxiety starts up in my chest, but I know better than to try and badger her for information before she’s ready to share. Instead I take a gulp and wait expectantly. She lays out her initial sketches on the table, which are, as always, a sight to behold. Handsome brutes with impressive whiskers stride around in tight breeches, while delicate damsels look pretty in sweeping, flamboyant crinolines.
‘They’re gorgeous,’ I tell her, ‘but you do realize it’s the worst budget we’ve ever had?’ Zelda’s been designing since the glory days of the seventies, when money was plentiful and you wrapped at four p.m., just in time for a gin and tonic.
‘Pah!’ she says, waving her hands in the air dismissively. ‘If we go over budget they’ll just have to cut back on the catering. I’m not having my name on something that looks anything short of divine.’
‘But you promised them we could do it for the money.’
‘I kept my fingers crossed behind my back. And, anyway, I know how industrious you are, darling. You’ll have some ingenious ideas up your sleeve.’
I look at her anxiously, feeling mighty relieved that the buck stops with her. Her magnificent imperiousness always wins out over the bean counters.
‘In fact,’ she continues, ‘I’m rather relying on your clever tricks.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Lulu, I’m not terribly well.’
‘I know, you’ve had flu. But you’re nearly better now, aren’t you?’
‘It might be rather worse than that. They’re doing some tests and they’ve asked me to take a few weeks off. I mean, I’m sure it’ll turn out to be a storm in a teacup, but my doctor’s been quite insistent.’
I fight down a tidal wave of dread, determined not to undermine her forced calm. It emerges that she’s being sent in for a barrage of CT scans, as they’re concerned that her persistent low-level bug might be something more sinister than it appears.
‘So does that mean you’re going to get someone to stand in for you till you’re back on form?’ I ask her brightly, trying not to imagine the worst.
‘Don’t be so naive!’ she snaps. ‘It’s high time you stepped out of my shadow and this is the perfect opportunity.’
‘Oh no, there’s no way I can take it on. I’ll be hopeless.’
‘Lulu, I really need you to do this for me. This business is nothing like it used to be. I don’t want people thinking I’m past it, can’t be relied on. I fully intend to be fighting fit as soon as is humanly possible, but until that point I need you to keep the shopfront fully operational.’
‘But –’
‘There are no buts. You can do it, and you will do it.’
With Zelda, resistance is futile. Besides, I know how much of a debt I owe her. She took me on as a dresser when I knew absolutely nothing – my entire career comes down to her. Decision made, she bats away any more questions about her health and insists we get down to business. She gives forth on her vision for the piece, the rich colours she wants to use to contrast with the slightly downbeat, soapy nature of the script.
‘Quite frankly, I wish we’d never taken it on,’ she confides. ‘But January’s so bloody slow.’
I’m quietly horrified by the idea of three wintry months’ shooting without Zelda’s Blitz spirit to keep us all going. But me whining is the last thing she needs – it’s time to get practical.
‘I think we need to find some modernity within it,’ I tell her, ‘make a virtue of the fact that we’ve got bugger all to play with.’
‘But it’s period drama, darling – surely it’s a contradiction in terms?’
‘We need to pare it down more, use a brighter palate to take away from the fact that the costumes are not as elaborate as you might expect.’
She surveys me for a moment before she replies, dragging deeply on an inevitable cigarette.
‘That’s my point, Lulu, you’re ready. You’re not a duckling any more, you’re fully grown. Go and sell your ideas to this, this –’
‘Tarquin Butler.’ Tarquin’s the young, edgy director who’s been brought in to give ‘Last Carriage to Avon’ the hipness and modernity that the producers inexplicably seem to believe is within its grasp.
‘But don’t forget what I’ve asked you to deliver,’ she adds hastily.
I stay another half hour or so, but I can see that she’s getting tired. When I kiss her goodbye I have to fight back the insistent