The Fashion Princess Read Online Free PDF

up.”
    â€œOh, that would be lovely, thanks,” smiled Tallulah.
    They ordered a wonderful-sounding lunch of asparagus and parmesan risotto followed by blueberry pavlova, all washed down with sparkling organic apple juice.
    â€œPerhaps I could do a really big spread on you in
Buttons
and
Bows
, to keep your name in the fashion arena,” suggested Bryony over lunch. “It would make up for me not getting the interview with Ned Carew and also show him that you don’t need him to succeed.”
    â€œHow kind. That sounds good. We could hook up again back home, after Fashion Week,” suggested Tallulah.
    Soon the conversation turned back to the Clara Hughson slot, which was all news to Tallulah.
    â€œThis will be a show like no other!” stated Berry. “We can showcase Saffron’s designs
and
our ideas too!”
    â€œYeah!” agreed Poppy. “Clara really liked our designs.”
    â€œIt’s all going to be incredibly tight, time-wise,” said Bryony. “Let’s see – we’ve only got a couple of days to pull it off.”
    â€œWell, if I can help in any way, I’d be very happy to do so,” said Tallulah. “I can sew pretty well after all these years of watching seamstresses.”
    â€œThanks – that would be awesome. Do you think you could also model in the show too?” asked Berry shyly.
    â€œOf course I could, if that’s any use,” said Tallulah modestly.
    Throughout lunch all the girls chatted excitedly about ideas for the mini-show they were to produce. Meanwhile, under the pretext of needing the loo, Orlando excused himself from the table;when he came back, he looked very pleased with himself indeed. Poppy and Berry knew he was up to something – they just didn’t know what . . .

Chapter Eight
    AFTER LUNCH THEY waved goodbye to Tallulah, promising to call her later, and reluctantly headed off to Ned Carew’s show. Much to the girls’ surprise, Orlando seemed to know the route rather well.
    Poppy and Berry sat next to Saffron and Bryony in the front row even though none of them were very excited about the show now that they knew what a dreadful man Ned was. As the girls chatted, no one noticed Orlando sneakingoff to check on his latest bit of mischief – an invisible trip-wire across the runway.
    Just then, the lights dimmed and Ned Carew made his entrance. His eyes were watery and his face was bright red – he was probably still burning up from all the hot chilli pepper and mustard on his brunch! He waved to the cheering crowd and made his way to the podium to introduce the show. But as he neared the stand, as if in slow motion, he tripped, arms and legs flailing. He fell flat on his face.
Splat!
It also became clear that he was wearing a wig. His hair was tilted to one side, revealing an expanse of polished head which wasn’t nearly as tanned as his face.

    There was a moment of silence, followed by nervous giggling from the crowd. Ned dragged himself up and glared at the audience. He tried to regain his composure, and some minders dashed over to help him to the microphone. He began to talk, but sadly for him, someone had snipped the wires.
    Orlando grinned with complete satisfaction as Ned Carew swept furiously from the stage.
    â€œHeads will roll for this!” the designer screeched. “No one makes a fool of Ned Carew!”
    Everyone was starting to shift around uncomfortably in their seats when, all of a sudden, Ned’s new model, Amélie, appeared on stage. She seemed rather confused and embarrassed, as if she had been pushed on from the wings. Someone must have decided that the show must goon, but she was far from happy about it. There was no music and the audience were all chatting and laughing. She tried to sashay down the runway in a very tight-fitting sailor suit and platform shoes, with what looked like an enormous chef ’s hat on her head. The audience clearly