tutted unhelpfully beside her. 'You need Annnah.'
'That's great,' Annie smiled at Kelly-Anne, hoping to cancel out Svetlana's comment. 'Some new things for the autumn . . . a coat? A bag? I have amazing new day dresses, just in . . . or maybe you want to look at something more casual.'
'Maybe a haircut too,' Svetlana put in.
'No, no!' Kelly-Anne said, looking anxious, 'you don't do hair here?'
'Yes, we do now have a new hair salon in the basement,' Annie told her.
'Kelly-Anne, you need haircut,' Svetlana told her firmly, 'this hair looked good when you were fifteen. Now you need something more modern.'
Kelly-Anne looked faintly terrified now.
'Well, anyway,' Annie gave Svetlana a look which was intended to make her shut up about the hair, 'let's talk about clothes.'
* * *
The trying-on session wasn't a great success. Everything tight and black Kelly-Anne wanted. Everything colourful, elegant and stylish, Svetlana and Annie wanted, but Kelly-Anne resisted.
It was shaping up to be one of Annie's very rare personal shopping deadlocks, when suddenly Connor breezed into the suite unannounced.
'Whatcha think Annie?' he asked, holding out his arms and wanting her immediate appraisal of his new, all-important outfit, 'I've been shopping with Dale downstairs in the big boys' department. This is what we came up with for the Sam Knight lunch. You like it?' Suddenly he noticed the other women in the room.
'Svetlana!' he exclaimed, and rushed over to take her hand and kiss it showily.
Annie gave him the glare, which was supposed to mean: I'm busy, make an appointment, like everyone else.
But Connor read it as disapproval. 'No? Not the blazer?' he asked her, 'I thought the blazer was a bit much as well. But it's Ralph Lauren, baby and I'm loving the cashmere T-shirt underneath.'
He posed in front of the full-length angled mirror, knowing full well he looked like sex on a stick and even Annie was going to have to admit it.
Kelly-Anne was looking at him with the wide-eyed look of surprised recognition. Annie hoped this was a good thing. Maybe if Kelly-Anne knew she dressed the famous Connor McCabe, she might be just a teensy bit more open to some honest advice.
'Hello there!' Connor schmoozed at Kelly-Anne. 'And I'm not Peter Andre, if that's what you're thinking.'
'I know!' she squeaked. 'You're Connor McCabe, from The Manor ! I love that programme. I think you're great!'
Kelly-Anne, who was currently wearing slim grey flannel trousers with a cream off-the-shoulder jumper (an outfit she'd just told Annie and Svetlana she'd never be seen dead in) stared at him quite transfixed.
'You're looking very foxy in that,' Connor told her generously. 'You're even giving me the horn.'
Kelly-Anne was well enough up on Connor's love life to know why that was funny.
'But the hair!' Svetlana complained to him, 'the hair should be silky. Moving, no? Connor, tell this woman.'
'Come to Connor and sit,' he instructed, pulling up a chair and placing it in front of the mirror.
Kelly-Anne obeyed without a word. She sat in the chair and faced the mirror as Connor, enjoying every moment of the attention, sank his hands deep into the dark tresses and started to shake them about.
'Stiff as a board,' was Connor's verdict. 'That's not sexy, baby, we want to be stroked with silk, not have our eyes taken out with bits of twig. Go shorter,' he urged, 'look at your lovely neck – ' he ran a finger along its length. 'Show it off!'
'Eeeek!'
Clearly, the thought of short hair was making Kelly-Anne squeak with fear.
'Eeee . . . yeowch . . .' she added. Maybe something was actually hurting.
'Ooops I seem to have got a little tangled in here,' Connor explained, as his hands remained buried in Kelly-Anne's hair. 'Annie, her hair's caught on my blazer button!'
Annie bent down and tried to investigate. Caught on a blazer button? Connor had four buttons on each
'That's great,' Annie smiled at Kelly-Anne, hoping to cancel out Svetlana's comment. 'Some new things for the autumn . . . a coat? A bag? I have amazing new day dresses, just in . . . or maybe you want to look at something more casual.'
'Maybe a haircut too,' Svetlana put in.
'No, no!' Kelly-Anne said, looking anxious, 'you don't do hair here?'
'Yes, we do now have a new hair salon in the basement,' Annie told her.
'Kelly-Anne, you need haircut,' Svetlana told her firmly, 'this hair looked good when you were fifteen. Now you need something more modern.'
Kelly-Anne looked faintly terrified now.
'Well, anyway,' Annie gave Svetlana a look which was intended to make her shut up about the hair, 'let's talk about clothes.'
* * *
The trying-on session wasn't a great success. Everything tight and black Kelly-Anne wanted. Everything colourful, elegant and stylish, Svetlana and Annie wanted, but Kelly-Anne resisted.
It was shaping up to be one of Annie's very rare personal shopping deadlocks, when suddenly Connor breezed into the suite unannounced.
'Whatcha think Annie?' he asked, holding out his arms and wanting her immediate appraisal of his new, all-important outfit, 'I've been shopping with Dale downstairs in the big boys' department. This is what we came up with for the Sam Knight lunch. You like it?' Suddenly he noticed the other women in the room.
'Svetlana!' he exclaimed, and rushed over to take her hand and kiss it showily.
Annie gave him the glare, which was supposed to mean: I'm busy, make an appointment, like everyone else.
But Connor read it as disapproval. 'No? Not the blazer?' he asked her, 'I thought the blazer was a bit much as well. But it's Ralph Lauren, baby and I'm loving the cashmere T-shirt underneath.'
He posed in front of the full-length angled mirror, knowing full well he looked like sex on a stick and even Annie was going to have to admit it.
Kelly-Anne was looking at him with the wide-eyed look of surprised recognition. Annie hoped this was a good thing. Maybe if Kelly-Anne knew she dressed the famous Connor McCabe, she might be just a teensy bit more open to some honest advice.
'Hello there!' Connor schmoozed at Kelly-Anne. 'And I'm not Peter Andre, if that's what you're thinking.'
'I know!' she squeaked. 'You're Connor McCabe, from The Manor ! I love that programme. I think you're great!'
Kelly-Anne, who was currently wearing slim grey flannel trousers with a cream off-the-shoulder jumper (an outfit she'd just told Annie and Svetlana she'd never be seen dead in) stared at him quite transfixed.
'You're looking very foxy in that,' Connor told her generously. 'You're even giving me the horn.'
Kelly-Anne was well enough up on Connor's love life to know why that was funny.
'But the hair!' Svetlana complained to him, 'the hair should be silky. Moving, no? Connor, tell this woman.'
'Come to Connor and sit,' he instructed, pulling up a chair and placing it in front of the mirror.
Kelly-Anne obeyed without a word. She sat in the chair and faced the mirror as Connor, enjoying every moment of the attention, sank his hands deep into the dark tresses and started to shake them about.
'Stiff as a board,' was Connor's verdict. 'That's not sexy, baby, we want to be stroked with silk, not have our eyes taken out with bits of twig. Go shorter,' he urged, 'look at your lovely neck – ' he ran a finger along its length. 'Show it off!'
'Eeeek!'
Clearly, the thought of short hair was making Kelly-Anne squeak with fear.
'Eeee . . . yeowch . . .' she added. Maybe something was actually hurting.
'Ooops I seem to have got a little tangled in here,' Connor explained, as his hands remained buried in Kelly-Anne's hair. 'Annie, her hair's caught on my blazer button!'
Annie bent down and tried to investigate. Caught on a blazer button? Connor had four buttons on each
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