A Beautiful Day for a Wedding

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A Beautiful Day for a Wedding Page 5

by Charlotte Butterfield


  A minute later Eve found herself waddling down Bond Street as fast as the skin-tight mermaid-style dress would allow, her face full of blusher, her lips a vibrant coral colour – since Fiona had vetoed corals in the magazine, the beauty cupboard was heaving with them – and smelling of a putrid perfume that had evidently been in the recesses of the cupboard for far too long.

  ‘Darling!’ Her mum rose to greet her, wrinkling her nose as she gave her a hug.

  Her brother wasn’t quite so subtle. ‘What’s that whiff? Eau de balsamic?’

  ‘It’s Chanel.’

  ‘And what are you wearing?’

  ‘My new dress.’

  ‘Didn’t they have it in your size?’

  ‘They did, and I’m wearing it. Anything else?’

  ‘Your lipstick. Didn’t you know that no one’s wearing orange any more?’

  ‘It’s coral, and yes they are, I am.’

  ‘You two, stop it.’ Eve’s mum, Faye, stepped in. ‘Can we please try and have a civilised dinner without you two resorting to hair pulling?’

  Eve and Adam smiled. Their squabbling sibling routine was as fun as it was familiar. They were Irish twins, having been born just eleven months apart, which left them sharing the same age for one month every year. Eve had always been thankful that she was the eldest, so she came before him in the introductions, otherwise the comedy value in their names might have presented more of a problem growing up. Their dad had gone through a brief religious phase around the time of their births, but it could have been worse; Bathsheba and Moses were also contenders.

  ‘Sorry I’m late Mum, work’s been a bit crazy.’ Eve took a grateful glug of the champagne that the hovering waiter poured out for her but made a silent note to convince them all to switch to house wine after the bottle was finished.

  ‘You’re here now, that’s what matters. Anyway, they haven’t even brought the menus yet.’ Faye put her hand over her daughter’s. ‘It feels like I haven’t seen you two in ages, what’s going on in your lives?’

  Eve started regaling them with stories of Tanya’s hen weekend, and as she got to the part where they slept in their cars, Faye snorted wine out of her nose. ‘Oh Eve.’

  ‘I know. I know. Bad bridesmaid.’

  ‘That’s hilarious,’ Adam said. ‘I bet Tanya was livid.’

  ‘Is livid. There’s no past tense yet.’

  ‘Well, I hope you perform better at my stag do.’

  ‘Speaking of which, have you decided if you and George want a joint one, or separate ones? You’ve got most of the same friends, but if you want a night out flirting with male strippers for the last time without him there, then speak now or forever hold your peace.’

  ‘I have never, or will ever, flirt with a male stripper.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Faye said in mock horror. ‘The thought makes me quite queasy.’

  ‘Says the woman who is internet dating,’ Eve jibed. ‘How’s that going?’

  Faye waited until the waiter had taken their order and was safely out of earshot before quietly replying. ‘The three I’ve had have been very useful. Ian came to put up my shelves last weekend, Gavin works at the same hospital, so we now car share twice a week which is saving me petrol money, and Harry put me in touch with a rock choir that I now sing with every Tuesday, so not a waste of time at all.’

  ‘You’re meant to be finding a soul mate Mum, not a handyman, taxi service or a hobby.’

  ‘I found my soul mate thirty-five years ago Eve, the chances of finding another one, are pretty slim.’

  The mention of their dad made a silence fall over the table. News of his accident had come in the form of the phone call every child dreaded receiving, especially one living as far away as Eve had been. She’d packed up her life in New York the night of his crash, had boarded the next available flight from JFK and still arrived three hours after he’d taken his last breath. Their mum was a shell of what she had been before, her life shattered in one moment by a woman who’d had too many drinks at a work party and thought calling a cab was too much hassle. Eve had moved in with Faye for a while – one of them had to. It took Faye a couple of months before she felt ready to leave the house, and even then, it was only to a neighbour’s for tea. Anything more taxing took a few more months. She had to be reminded to brush her hair, to eat, to answer the phone, the door. Then one day, an estate agent turned up, hammering a ‘For Sale’ sign up outside her house. Eve and Adam had pleaded with Faye to give herself some time, to wait. But Faye’s mind was set. She didn’t want to sit watching television alone in the same room she’d watched it with him for thirty-five years. She knew that one more night sleeping in their bedroom, in their marital bed where they’d made love hundreds, if not thousands of times, and conceived two children, was one night too many. Standing in front of the hob stirring a single can of soup in a pan for her evening meal, when the same hob had yielded huge family feasts in the past and countless Christmas dinners, had given her a pang in her chest so painful she had to steady herself by holding on to the counter until it had passed.

  Shaving fifty thousand off the valuation meant the house sold the same day the sign was hoisted up, even before photos had been taken of it, or the estate agent had a chance to describe the garden as ‘pleasantly South facing, a stone’s throw from the delights of Brighton’s city centre and seafront.’ Eve looked at her mum across the table in this fancy London restaurant. She’d retrained as a therapist, lost a stone, had her blonde hair feathered and highlighted, and sold her trusted slow cooker on eBay. Apart from the easy humour and warmth she still exuded, there was little to recognise from the mother they’d grown up with.

  ‘Speaking of soul mates, Eve, do you need a plus one for our wedding?’ Adam asked.

  ‘No, you’re alright.’

  ‘Come on darling,’ Faye cajoled. ‘It’s only the middle of May now, their wedding isn’t until August. Everything could change in that time, this might be the impetus you need to meet someone.’

  Eve didn’t want to use the same words that Faye had just done about already finding her soul mate once and the chances of meeting another one being pretty slim, but she couldn’t stop herself thinking it.

  ‘So is that a yes, you need a plus one or no?’ Adam said. ‘I need to know.’

  ‘Right now?’ Eve asked. ‘Your wedding is in August, why do you need to know now?’

  Adam tapped the table impatiently. ‘Yes or no?’

  ‘Yes,’ Faye interrupted. ‘Yes for both of us. Two and a half months is plenty enough time for us both to find nice companions to bring, isn’t it Eve? It’s good to have a goal.’

  Having been single for four years Eve didn’t think that ten weeks was anywhere near long enough to become coupled up again, but she didn’t say so.

  ‘Speaking of plus ones,’ Faye added casually. ‘Are either of you doing anything in three weekends’ time, on the 25th?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing,’ replied Eve. ‘Thank God. It’s my only hen-free, wedding-free weekend of the whole summer.’

  ‘Oh. Never mind then.’

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘You know your dad’s cousin, Thomas? The one that lives in Dartmouth? Well, his daughter Leila is getting married at Kew Gardens and I’ve got a plus one, and Ivy was going to come with me, but she’s having her hip replacement then. I haven’t got the nerve to tell Judy, Thomas’s wife, she’s quite a force to be reckoned with. But it’s ok, I’ll think of someone else.’

  ‘Don’t look at me,’ Adam said, topping their glasses up. ‘We’ve got a colonic detox weekend booked in the Lake District.’

  ‘Wow, you guys have all the fun,’ Eve teased. ‘Look Mum, if you really need me to come, I will. It’s in London, and it might actually be quite nice to be at a wedding where I don’t have to do anything.’

  The waiter put down their food and made a subtle retreat.

  ‘Speaking of weddings, I posted my RSVP back to Becca earlier today,’ Faye said.


  ‘Becca invited you to her wedding?’ Eve asked, a little incredulously. Her mum had kept Becca well-nourished during their three years of university and occasionally did her laundry back then, but Eve had thought Becca was trying to keep numbers down.

  ‘Yes, I must admit I was a bit surprised that she invited me, but I was very touched.’

  ‘Did you say yes?’

  ‘Yes, if that’s ok with you? I promise I won’t cramp your style too much.’

  ‘No, it’ll be lovely having you there.’ Eve turned to her brother. ‘So where’s George this evening?’ Adam and George had been dating for nearly a decade, so it felt more like she had two brothers, except George was less rude to her.

  ‘He’s on a work dinner. Some clients are over from Tokyo and they’re all out together. He’ll probably stagger in at 2 a.m. after going to a karaoke bar.’

  ‘We should join them!’ Faye said. Thirty-five years of being a housewife had resulted in a volcano of pent-up enthusiasm for every activity she’d never done before.

  ‘Mum, as much as I love the new you, and good God, do I, there is no way that I want to be singing Neil Diamond at midnight with you, my sister, my boyfriend, his boss and five strange Japanese men.’

  ‘Put like that Mum, he has a point.’ Eve laughed and picked up her wine glass, knocking the side of her soup bowl in the process and sloshing its boiling hot contents right down the front of her bridesmaid dress. The sheer surprise combined with the scalding heat froze Eve in statue-like shock for a couple of seconds. Faye pushed her chair back and stood up, waiters flocked to the table, Eve remained open-mouthed and bright red. And Adam calmly picked up his water glass and chucked the contents all over his sister’s chest.

  ‘I didn’t really like that place anyway,’ Faye said, as they made an embarrassed exit from the restaurant. ‘Really stuffy. Literally and figuratively.’

  ‘What the heck am I going to do about this dress? I’m meant to wear it in twelve days, and it’s ruined,’ Eve cried. ‘This is going to send Tanya over the edge.’

  ‘It’s ok, take it to the dry cleaner’s in the morning. If that doesn’t work, call the tailor’s and see if they can make another one.’

  ‘It’s taken four months to make this one!’

  ‘Four months, that’s crazy. Get the pattern and I’ll whizz one up for you.’

  ‘It’s not from a pattern in a magazine Mum, it’s from a proper bridal designer.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Adam sneered unhelpfully.

  ‘If there was an award for the worst bridesmaid ever, I would win it.’

  ‘Oh, come on love, it’s only soup.’

  ‘That right there shows just how little you know about brides, Mum.’

  The dry cleaner’s next to work said the same thing as the dry cleaner’s near her flat, who repeated exactly what the launderette said, who parroted what the internet had confirmed last night. Eve was screwed.

  And the lipstick that she’d borrowed from the beauty cupboard turned out to have some long-lasting dye in it, so her lips had an unattractive orange hue to them that no amount of scrubbing in the shower would remove. At least the woman with the half-heart locket was on the train again this morning. That lifted Eve’s spirits a little.

  ‘Kat, I have a monumental problem,’ Eve sighed, flopping into her chair and swivelling round on it to face her friend. The dress lay crumpled in her lap, soup-side up.

  ‘Oh Christ.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘They’re orange.’

  ‘That’s not the biggest problem. Look.’ Eve gestured at the massive stain.

  ‘To be fair, it wasn’t very nice anyway.’

  ‘That’s spectacularly unhelpful Kat! I know you haven’t met her, but Tanya is going to lose the plot over this.’

  ‘Look, we work for a bridal magazine, I’m sure we can pull in some favours and get a new one. Where did she get it?’

  ‘Some fancy Italian designer I think, she ordered them online.’

  ‘Hold it up, let me take a photo of it and get our friends on the fashion desk to try and track it down.’

  ‘See, that’s why I love you.’

  ‘I know. By the way, you were right about Juan. He’s gorgeous, but boy does he hate the female species.’

  ‘I completely forgot to ask, how did it go?’

  ‘He almost killed me, and I’m aching in muscles I didn’t know I had, but it was good. If ever you want to slack off again, I’ll definitely step in.’

  The fashion desk only took half an hour to find the dress in their archives, but it wasn’t from a Venetian atelier, like Tanya had boasted, after all. It was from a Chinese website selling copy dresses. And the big bag of cash that Eve had handed over to Tanya to pay for it came to substantially more than it was selling for online. ‘The cheeky cow!’ Eve said when Kat broke the news. She couldn’t believe that Tanya had charged her more than double what she’d paid for it. ‘What a crappy thing to do. Right, that’s it, I’m not spending a penny more on this wedding. I’m wearing the soup dress. I’ll make a feature out of it.’

  Kat narrowed her eyes at Eve. ‘While I love the new attitude, because you’ve definitely been a pushover for far too long, I’m going to have to step in and say that you can’t wear the soup dress as it is.’

  ‘I’m going to customise it.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound any better. How are you going to customise it?’

  ‘I’m going to find some fabric in the same colour, and cut out the minestrone panel, and sew in the new panel.’

  ‘Eve, can we take a moment to reflect on what you just said. In the time I have known you, dressmaking has never come up as one of the secret skills you have.’

  ‘No, but I can give it a go.’

  Kat just leant her head back against her chair and silently shook her head. ‘Oh God Eve, I can see nothing wrong with that plan at all.’

  Chapter 6

  Becca had offered to give the dress to a colleague of hers that made her own clothes, but Eve refused. How difficult could it be to do a bit of darning? She’d spent years watching her mum work her way through a massive basket of mending in no time at all, and this was one small dress. Too small, but that was neither here nor there.

  ‘Would a glass of wine make this easier?’ Becca asked, standing in the doorway, looking at her friend’s bent head and expression of concentration with undisguised pity. Eve resolutely shook her head. She was already unpicking the stitches she’d done the night before over one glass of wine too many. Repeating that tonight was not an option.

  ‘I’ll have one afterwards to reward myself for my brilliance. You can stick the kettle on though.’

  It didn’t look too bad, Eve thought, holding the dress away from her and squinting through one eye and then the other. In a flash of what she could only describe as pure genius, she’d cut out a panel from the back of the dress, in the mermaid tail bit to replace the soup panel that was centre stage at the front, and then the new fabric that she’d picked up at the market, which wasn’t an exact colour match but was close enough, could then go on the back.

  ‘So, talk me through the logic again of cutting out two parts of the dress when you only needed to do one.’

  Eve proudly explained her inspired reasoning, ending with, ‘…so if it’s on the back, no one will really see it.’

  ‘That is indeed a mastermind move, Eve. Except, of course, being a bridesmaid, you’ll be walking up the aisle behind the bride, so everyone will be able to see it.’

  Eve’s sudden crestfallen expression prompted Becca to uncharacte‌ristically take control. ‘I think at this point we just need to do some damage limitation. Make sure that you always hold your flowers over the front of your dress. And I’ll stand really close behind you at all times so no one can see the back of you.’

  ‘For ten hours?’

  ‘Well, as soon as people start getting drunk no one will care anyway, so I reckon three hours tops, and then you’ll have
got away with it.’

  Eve’s eyes brightened with hope. ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  In a bid to have a different sort of wedding that didn’t include the words ‘country’ and ‘hotel’, Tanya and Luke were tying the knot in a warehouse. Not one of those cavernous, atmospheric warehouses that screamed potential – this was a disused, quite probably defective, former paint factory that would have building surveyors rocking back and forth in a dark corner holding their hard-hatted heads in their hands. But Tanya had A Vision. And it was up to Eve to turn the hundreds of pinterest pins that Tanya kept bombarding her with into reality, starting with the metres upon metres of newly-hemmed fabric she was busy pulling out of the back of a taxi. The plan was to hang the swathes of white chiffon from the high pipes that ran the length of the factory, creating a ‘billowing, dreamlike atmosphere’ – Tanya’s words, not Eve’s. Eve had other words in mind that she was trying very hard not to say out loud.

  Tanya had also depleted every hardware store, supermarket and most of the internet of fairy lights which were going to be stapled to every surface, be they vertical or horizontal. Thankfully this task was out of Eve’s remit, and a few of Luke’s friends were already up numerous ladders, trails of lights knotting themselves around the floor, steps and men’s legs.

  ‘Morning all!’ Eve shrilled as she stumbled in through the factory doors, arms full with fabric. You could just about see her eyes over the mountain of chiffon. ‘Where shall I put this?’

  ‘What is it?’ One of Luke’s friends asked from up a ladder.

  ‘It’s the stuff for the dreamlike atmosphere,’ Eve replied. ‘We need to hang it from the rafters.’ Or what’s left of them, she thought, looking upwards and seeing a family of birds wiggle through one of the many holes in the roof.

  ‘I’ll take them off you,’ said a deep voice to her side. Eve froze. She hadn’t heard that voice in the four years since he’d left. ‘How are you, Red?’

  She’d had plenty of time to think about this moment, to plan a profound, deeply intelligent reply that would convey an overwhelming insight into how she felt. She opened her mouth to speak and all that came out was, ‘Ben.’ As greetings went, it wasn’t great.

 

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