Another festive season approaches, another year of my postings comes to an end. I would like to wish all the staff at BC a Happy Christmas and a Safe New Year. I'll be spending my time writing more to post. To all my readers, thank you for the kudos ticks and all the comments, good and not so good. There are a lot of very competent writers on this site, my thoughts are with you all.
I certainly wish all of you the best for 2025.
Marianne

Chapter 6

When she stood, we hugged and then went to look for Ant. She waved the card and he looked at it with wonderment. Then, he led us into his office, where he closed the door and held me tight as we kissed. Rosie watched us with a huge smile on her face.

When he let me go, he opened a cupboard and took out three glasses and a bottle of Chianti. He poured three small glasses and we each took one, Rosie smiling and me wondering about something that looked like a family tradition. Antoin explained before we touched glasses.

“Francesca, it has become a Ferrari tradition to celebrate good luck with a toast to the Virgin. We are not good churchgoers, but we believe that it is the female goddess who makes good things happen. I propose a toast to Frankie, who is also Emily, a great lady, and a great dress designer. Prosit!”

We all took a sip. It was a nice red wine, and it made me smile with them. Antoin looked at me and asked.

“What are you going to do now, Frankie? You can’t come into our lives, and my heart, and just leave us.”

“I sent my driver and the car back to London. I’ve extended my stay in the hotel. If you want me to, I’ll help Rosie with the dresses for your show and stay on until that’s over. I do have one condition, though.”

“There always has to be a condition.”

“It’s simple. When the show is over, the entire line is to be a Valerie chain exclusive. I’ll get our buyers to make a good order, big enough to fund an expansion of the production. When other buyers see that you have the chain behind you, they’ll be asking for their own exclusive lines. Rosies’ designs are beautiful. Beautiful enough for me to buy, and I can pick from anywhere.”

Rosie looked shocked, then asked her question.

“Can we base it on the Racegoers pictures? I look at the ones we have, and I would love to see the complete dresses, a lot of them only hint at their beauty.”

“All right, I’ll look at your pictures and we can draw up the designs good enough to make. I can help make the originals. The ones in the pictures were just figments of my imagination. I have most of my pictures on my laptop, at the hotel. We can print off the other pictures in the series and work with those.”

Antoin took my hand.

“Frankie. You’ll need a good printer for that. I have one in my office at home. The other pictures we have are there as well. Surely you don’t have to stay in that hotel when I can look after you?”

I put my glass down and used my hand to touch his cheek.

“Antoin, I thought that you’d never ask.”

We kissed again, while Rosie topped up her glass and drank about half. She waited until we came up for air before she called “Prosit!” We all toasted the future of the Antoin Designs label.

We left her at the shop, and he drove to the hotel. It didn’t take me long to pack, but, as the maids hadn’t remade the bed, we put a sign outside the door and made use of it before I checked out. I didn’t know what it was about this man that made weak in the knees and tingling in the groin. I wondered if it could be love or just lust. Whatever it was, I wanted to hang on to it.

I stayed with them at their house, working with Rosie on designs from the pictures. I expanded the dresses in the pictures to full designs and Rosie made her own adjustments to them to be right for the models she had booked. In the last couple of weeks, she drove me, in her little Fiat, to her workshop, where I met her three seamstresses. There, the five of us made the chosen dresses for the fashion show, calling in the models to try them on so we could adjust the drape.

When we took them to Milan, prior to the show, I introduced Rosie to the three buyers from Valerie’s that had come to have a look. I had called the head buyer and told him that I had already committed the company to a good order for our chain but wanted him to have the final say. I didn’t tell him about my part in the business.

I sat with Antoin for the show, while Rosie was backstage with the models and the seamstresses, working as dressers. There were three other designers showing their wares before us. Each one going up on the catwalk to bow to the applauding crowd with their line of models. I had never been to a fashion show before and it was all very glitzy and a bit over the top.

At last, it was the turn of Antoin Designs. I sat, entranced, as the models strutted their stuff, making the skirts swing and flow, smiling to the crowd and being glamorous. Because that’s what the collection was, Glamorous with the capital G. Where the other designers had shown a range of outfits, from every day to clubbing, we had concentrated on the one aspect that I had wanted to add a long time ago. It was a range of club-ready outfits that were for women wanting to snare a man. They certainly snared this audience of both men and women.

When Rosie came out with the final line-up, she called to us to go up and receive the accolades. I stood and looked out at the buyers, a lot of them men, and my head buyer gave me a thumbs up. Afterwards, there were several buyers from other chains who wanted to speak to Antoin. He told them that the collection was slated as an exclusive to the Valerie’s chain, but the company could produce others to their own particular specifications. I added that they could order similar styles, but not in the colours that Valerie’s would be carrying. No-one asked me who I was, just assuming that I was part of the Antoin Designs team.

That evening, we had a dinner with my buyers, the models, and the dressers. It was a happy occasion, with the buyers giving Antoin written orders for the range, to be delivered to all of the shops. The next day, he had more orders from other fashion shops, with the buyers having taken pictures of the collection and then photo-shopping them to find colours they liked. By the end of the day, there were orders from six different outlets, in six different colourways. With examples in each of the popular sizes, it made a hefty order book. Something he could take to the bank and ask for a loan with.

He didn’t have to go to the bank. I had enough behind me to bankroll the expansion for a one-third stake in the company. He brought in his legal people, and we signed agreements by the end of the week. Two weeks later, the new premises were leased, more seamstresses hired, and the production began. It was a lot easier with the basic collection being repeated in different colours, giving us a mass production line from the start.

I had flown to London and back several times during the process to keep up with the business, but generally found that things were moving smoothly. The one thing that I hadn’t had time for was painting. I mentioned this to Antoin, and he told me that his parents had a house on the coast at Savona, overlooking the beach. He said that they would love to meet me and that they had a spare room which he knew would be ideal for a studio. That way, I could be close to him and Rosie, but also allow me time to paint. He took me down there after the new factory was running smoothly, and I met his parents. They were both lovely people, mainly French speaking at home, and the house was in a glorious position, right on the beach. He stayed with me for a couple of days and took me to the shops to buy an easel, canvasses, and paints. Once I had set up, he left me to sleep in his bed and went back to look after the shop in Turin.

I was a month with his parents, with him visiting every weekend. They looked after me like a daughter, or maybe a daughter-in-law, and I was able to produce ten pictures that I liked. I had taken inspiration from the beach and the surrounding area.

One evening, they had a guest and his wife for dinner. They introduced me as Ants’ fiancé, even though he hadn’t asked me yet. I wondered why they were here and found out that they owned an art gallery further up the coast. The Ferraris had several nice pictures on their walls, and I discovered that they had all come from this gallery. They wanted to see my pictures, not knowing that I was already selling pictures in a London Gallery.

When I showed them what I had done, they got serious.

“Madam Valerie. These are wonderful! Would you allow us to exhibit them in our gallery?”

“That will be all right, I’ll pay for frames.”

“No need for that, Madam. We will supply those. We can sell these for a lot of money to the rich tourists. Not only that, but we also have a friend in the tourist office who will pay you for the rights to photograph them and reproduce them as postcards. They have captured the scenes so beautifully.”

They noticed that I hadn’t signed them. I picked up a fabric marker and signed ‘Ferrari’ in the corner. I told them that I already sold works as Emily Mottram and that Antoin had some of my paintings in his house in Turin. They told me that they had seen them and that I was worthy of being permanently hung in a proper gallery.

I took pictures of them as they were carefully loaded into their car. They took my banking details for my share of the sales. The next weekend, I thanked my hosts and went back to Turin with Antoin. I stayed with him for a week before flying back to London. Rosie asked me about designs for the shows later in the year. I said that I would join her to work through them when she needed me.

Back in my apartment, I spent a few days painting another of my ‘Star-crossed Lovers’ series, just for my own wall. It was me and Antoin in a setting similar to a scene from Anthony and Cleopatra, and much more detailed than my usual works. I got a nice frame for it and hung it in my bedroom.

When I visited the London shop, I was told that the new line was selling well, and that there would be a new order after the Autumn shows. I rang the Turin factory and spoke to Rosie about what she had planned for that season. She told me that there were invitations from London and Paris to show the brand. We talked about what was needed and I agreed to fund another two designers if she could get good ones that followed the brand ideals. I suggested that we set up another factory in England to supply the UK shops, which were doing well.

Not being up to date with real estate, I got in touch with Bancroft, inviting him to dinner at the Hilton to thank him for his past help and to pick his brains. When I told him what I had been up to, he suggested that I speak to the company that was still administrators of the overall Valerie brand.

When I went to see them, they sat me down in a boardroom while a small team brought me up to date with the numbers. Since we had added the ‘Frankie’s Faceworks’ to the bigger shops, the numbers had shot through the roof. The first three months of the addition of the Antoin range had added to the turnover and profit.

When I told them that I was a one-third owner of the Antoin label, and that we had invitations to Milan, Paris, and London for the Autumn shows, they all concentrated hard. I described what I thought we may do in regard to setting up a manufacturing base for the brand in the UK, with designs and samples sent from the home base in Turin. If we could get a couple of designers, we could develop samples which we could sent to Turin for approval.

I sat back as they discussed what could be possible. What they thought was possible was way beyond anything I had imagined. They came up with a proposal to open a manufacturing factory in London, with all new equipment and a workforce of experienced seamstresses, who were readily available now that a lot of clothing came in cheap from Asia. They were adamant that they could organise it to have the high standard that Valerie and Antoin represented.

I called Rosie to tell her what was being discussed. She was reticent until I told her that the proposal was for a manufacturing facility to take all the volume work that she was now doing in Turin, leaving her facility space to work on special orders and designing new collections. She reminded me that, thanks to the Milan show, she was designing seven different lines for the chain buyers, and having the extra space to separate these would be good.

I told her that I would get back to her when my companions had something to move forward on. By the time we had spoken, and I had asked her to pass my love on to Ant, the team had researched available commercial sites that had previously been used for clothing manufacture, had picked one of the newest ones and had arranged a viewing with the agent.

That afternoon, I was in a group that looked at a large commercial building, still with the brand that I had known as an early teen across the front. Inside, it was reasonably tidy, without any equipment as that had been sold at auction. It had all modern facilities and good offices, including a design studio and sample-making room. To my mind, it could be too big, but that did allow room for expansion.

The others in the group were in a huddle and I had to ask what they were discussing.

“We’re talking about making this the Head Office for the Valerie and Antoin UK brands. There’s enough room and it would get us out the confines of the administrators. You’ve advanced the company to the point where we could work directly for you, so making sure that you get our full attention.”

“How many of you would I be taking on?”

“Around fifteen, if we get a few that have worked on the Frankie salons. Between us, we have the skills to make this a world-wide brand. It just means that you say yes.”

“I’ll get Antoin and Rosetta over in the next few days. If one of you could act as my PA for a while, we can get things moving so that Rosetta can concentrate on the Autumn collections.”

We wound up with the agent ready to hand us the keys to have another look. I was introduced to Brenda, a cute blonde who had struck me as on top of what we had discussed. She had her own car and took me back to the apartment. I rang Turin and organised Antoin to pick us up the next day, while Brenda arranged two business class ticket to Turin.

The next day, we were in Turin, with Brenda seeing the Turin store for the first time, meeting Antoin and Rosie, then getting a quick tour of the manufacturing facility. She asked all the right questions and Rosie told her the minimum number of dressmakers we would need, the best sewing and cutting machines to buy, and a lot of other information.

We all had dinner and discussed what was being put forward. We stayed in Turin until Friday when the four of us flew into London. Saturday, we went to look at the factory. Saturday night we had a large dinner party with the rest of the team and the deal was struck. Saturday night, Antoin stayed with me in the apartment and saw his picture on the bedroom wall. It had the effect of giving him a little more stamina.

Sunday, the two of them flew back to Turin to start the process of transferring the manufacturing to London. They were certain that they would be able to continue employing the best seamstresses and cutters. Brenda had assured them that there was a good pool of seamstresses in London when we started advertising. I had Sallys’ phone number and rang her to ask if she wanted to drive for me, full time. She jumped at the chance. I told her to see about getting a good car and refer the dealer to me for payment.

Monday, I was in the administrators with the team, working out a way that I could take over their employment while them having a place back with their old jobs if needed. The CEO told me that if they stuffed up, they were unlikely to be wanted back, so they had better make a fist of it. As a group, they all resigned. As a group, they were given all the data regarding my companies. As a group, they collected the keys from the estate agent and were moved into the new Head Office by the end of the week, with orders placed for equipment using the list Brenda had given them.

A week later, I had a call from Sally to go and see a car dealer. I met her there with Brenda driving me. We negotiated a deal for three cars on lease and Brenda organised the paperwork and payment. One, we could take immediately, with the registration to be posted to a PO Box that the team had arranged. Sally drove that one home to pick me up on Monday when she started working for me.

One of the team was acting as our human resources, so Brenda had taken Sallys’ details to have her on the payroll. That following week saw the factory cleaned and the office furniture delivered. The machinery and cutting tables would be delivered the following week. Sally was picking me up every morning, and Brenda had set up an office for us. For someone who had not wanted to be tied down, I was laying down roots.

We had a deadline to work with, so a few of the team had set up a large office to handle the Valerie business. What I hadn’t realised was that I was already responsible for the staff of thirty-one shops, adding up to over two hundred men and women. The numbers were frightening, now I was at the centre of things. I was about to add another forty or fifty to that number, on top of the twenty or so on the team already.

It took three weeks before we could take the first shipments of cut dresses from Turin, with our first machines being operated by some older women, some who had worked in this factory before. It was starting to come together. Before I flew to Turin, to help Rosie with the designs for the shows, I got Brenda to work out a roster for each of the team to be driven to every UK Valeries’ store to see, for themselves, what they were looking after. Previously, they had just seen the data. Sally was tasked to take them. I reminded her that she still had the card I had given her and to let each of her passengers have their pick at the store of their choice, on my account.

In Turin, Antoin picked me up and introduced me to Giano, the new manager of the Turin store. I checked out the store with him and then we went to see Rosie in the factory. She was busy on a drafting board, designing, when we went in. The bulk of the factory was now busy making up new designs that she, and the other two designers, were creating. She assured me that it was now much easier with the manufacturing removed.

I stayed with Antoin for two weeks while I helped her with a few drawings of my own, but she was now confident enough to be her own woman. At the end of the first week, Antoin proposed, and I said “Yes.”

Three weeks later, we were married in the chapel at Warren. I could wear the wedding dress that I had designed, and made, all those years before. We had flown Rosie in as the only bridesmaid, along with his parents. There were a few guests, Penelope and her husband, Margaret, and hers, a few of the other girls from Warren and their husbands, some of the staff from both Warren and Longburrow. Last, but not least, was Bancroft, his new wife, and Eliabeth and her husband.

We had a working honeymoon, firstly seeing the organisers of the London Fashion shows, then a similar meeting with the organisers of the Paris shows, followed by the Milan shows. We then joined his parents in Savona, sleeping in his bed and being looked after by his mother. We visited the gallery, where we bought two complete sets of greetings cards with my paintings on. That’s when he saw that I has signed them ‘Ferrari’ all that time ago and he kissed me right there in front of all the tourists.

Two weeks later, we were back in my apartment and knuckling down to organise the shows. We needed to book local models for each one and that took a while, making sure that they were the right size. We were looking at models with figures, none of the stick-thin girls for the Antoin line.

By the time that the first show came around, we were all ready. The London factory was already making the different sizes of the new ranges, with the extra space being used as a warehouse. We were now making every Antoin dress that was sent out to our European stores, as well as the other chains that we looked after as good as we looked after Valerie’s.

Rosie had used her time and space well, sending us the samples and cut pieces to copy. The shows were all on top of each other, but all the local models turned up, looked good, and brought the house down. Before Christmas, we were looking at a second factory and staff to cater for the new orders.

Rosie had met a nice guy, and they were going steady. She delegated much of her work to the other two designers and the employed a third. Before she stepped back, Rosie designed a range of wedding dresses, with the one I had made as the top of the line.

In London, Antoin and I also moved back from the front line. The team, now numbering forty, was led by a new CEO, poached from one of our competitors. She was a real professional in the fashion business and had made her own things for years. She fitted in perfectly.

I was still the sole owner of Valerie’s but created a Public Limited Company, with Ant and I as thirty percent owners, each, Rosie with ten percent, and the other thirty percent allocated to the team, with the proviso that they could only sell them to someone else working for us for ten years. Although we had nothing to sell when we were launched on the stock market, the shares were quoted at fifty percent higher than the original value, such was the market backing of the company.

Ant and I bought a house on the Italian coast, some way from Savona, at Ospedaletti. It was close to the border with France but quiet enough for us to settle. There, we kept an eye on our company, enjoyed our own company, made friends and I painted. Over the years I sent paintings to Savona, signed ‘Ferrari’ and others to London, signed ‘Emily Mottram’.

When some of my paintings were shown in a genuine Art Gallery, they contacted me to paint something for them, on commission, to headline a retrospective of my work. That summer, we attended a totally different showing than we were becoming used to.

Later on, the other shareholders put in a bid for our sixty percent of the business, with an up front and progressive payment amount that we couldn’t turn down. I finally applied for an Italian passport with the name of Francesca Emily Ferrari, and we bought a real Ferrari to get around in.

We never adopted any children. I never told Ant that I had once been a boy. We lived the high life with other A-Listers, moving towards our dotage traveling the world and meeting other rich people at the fashion shows that Antoin Designs were in. Life was good for the child who had lived in the closet.

Marianne Gregory © 2024