by Judy Astley
‘And have you bought the dress?’
‘Er … no.’
‘You see? If anyone should be feeling insecure here, don’t you think it might be me? Get the dress. Please, babe. Just get the dress.’
Emily kept looking out into the garden to keep an eye on the weather. She didn’t trust it. It was only ten thirty in the morning and it seemed to be getting darker already, which wasn’t right. The forecast had said there might be ‘light snow showers’ in west London and she needed to watch to make sure it didn’t get out of control. Snow was dangerous, frightening. Even in fairy tales she’d hated it. It had killed the Little Match Girl and smothered the Babes in the Wood.
She was constantly checking the weather app on her phone, hating the little snow symbol that came up for that day. She willed it to change. Flicking through to see what the weather was to be like in Cornwall, all she found was rain and a temperature five degrees higher than here, which was annoying and unfair. Wasn’t it usually colder down there? It certainly was in summer. She moved a chair close to the window and sat down, tucking her feet under her and holding Ned close. He was such a good baby, calm and happy, and she loved him to be right there, always so close against her. When he looked up at her and treated her to a huge smile she felt great waves of pleasure as they connected.
The fat flakes of snow started falling at midday. Emily was on her computer, ordering Christmas presents online, and she watched the snow and tried to think of it as something to enjoy. But she knew the streets in London would get slick and icy; the snow would pile up at the sides of the roads and get brown and filthy. People would break limbs on it. Everything normal would come to a halt: bus routes, trains, life. At least country snow was prettier. She tried to think how it would be in her little Wiltshire town. It wouldn’t have that cut-off terror that she’d felt in Cornwall the Christmas before. For one thing there would be neighbours. There would be a shop within walking distance and a station not far away if the roads were bad. But also … it would be her new nest and she’d be OK about being cosily holed up in it for a few days. All would be well. And the house was still on the market – the vendors didn’t want to go anywhere right now. She was in with a chance.
Rich dropped off the dog at Thea’s house on Saturday morning rather than Friday. She still didn’t want him in the house, invading her territory, but she thanked him for the flowers and promised to walk Benji far and often and take good care of him.
‘I know you will,’ Rich said, smiling at her. He had his head slightly on one side like someone who’d been told it was how you act ‘fondness’. She felt awkward about that and was a bit abrupt with him. Even though it was the weekend he was wearing a suit and tie and looked uncomfortably formal. Thea could see he’d had his hair recently cut; it was far too tidy, too short. He looked a lot like a small boy about to be sent off to prep school. The contrast with Sean couldn’t be greater. Sean’s hair was never short, never tidy, never less than pretty much out of control, flopping over his eyes in tendrils that he’d push out of the way but only bothered to trim when they got in his eyes while he was in the sea. He’d asked her if she’d like him all tidy for the wedding but the idea had horrified her. ‘God no! It’s you I want to marry, you and the whole way you are. Not all gussied up like a shop-window dummy!’
‘Old jeans then? Two-day stubble?’
‘Er, well, you don’t need to go that far down the laid-back road, but yes, more that than George Clooney boring, please!’
‘One thing,’ he’d said. ‘Let me know what colour you’re going to wear.’
‘Are we having matching outfits? Please tell me no. We’d look like the twin children of a madwoman.’
‘No, but I thought maybe even a slob like me could do a bit of colour co-ordination. It was Sarah’s idea. She says it looks good in the photos.’
‘Oh, right. In that case, I’ll let you know, as soon as I do,’ she promised him. There were only a few weeks to go, she realized, feeling a quick flood of nerves, so she would have to have a look online before she went out and find the kind of dress she’d love. If she simply hit the shops, especially now when they were crazy with Christmas shoppers, she would panic and come home with nothing and know that it was all her own fault for leaving it so late. She phoned Anna and asked to go round so they could have a look together, see what kind of thing would work. She had a vague idea of what she’d like but could do with back-up. And if a girl couldn’t get her mum onside for a wedding frock then what were mothers for?
‘Oh, about time! What sort of style do you like?’ Anna asked. ‘You’re not a frills type, that I do know.’ They sat at the kitchen table, flicking through images on Thea’s iPad. Thea had taken Benji with her and he dozed under the table. The day outside was grey and damp but the snow that had fallen the day before and so excited Thea’s class – to the point where they could barely concentrate for jumping up and down – had melted and gone.
‘It’s easier to say what I don’t like, really,’ Thea said, ‘which I know isn’t helpful but at least rules a lot out.’
Mike made tea for them and then retired to his hut to sort out his paints and to throw out everything that he no longer used. ‘That last lot of people who came round to look at the house want to come again,’ he told Thea on his way out. ‘They’re bringing their teenagers, apparently. Our agent Belinda says she’s sure they’re about to make an offer.’
‘I hope so,’ Thea said, ‘and it’ll be lovely for me and Sean to have you down in Cornwall, but the others will miss you. I know we all live our own lives but this has always been a sort of base.’
Mike laughed. ‘Well, first, we’re planning to be in Nashville for a while. And then Anna has always wanted to go to India. I told her she should have done the hippie trail at nineteen like everyone else but she missed out. So that’s a possibility. We might rent somewhere up here still. But it’ll have to be cheap. I don’t want to waste money on something that will be empty half the time. It’ll take a while to find something we could buy instead.’
Thea considered for a moment. ‘You could always stay with me,’ she said. ‘The spare room is small but it’s doable.’
‘You know that could be a brilliant solution. But are you really keeping your house on?’ Anna asked gently, ‘Aren’t you going to move to Cornwall and live with Sean … you know …’
‘Properly?’ Thea suggested.
‘Yes. It’s the usual thing, you know. Man/woman/married – they tend to share premises.’
‘If I can get a job, yes, that’s the plan. But at the moment they’re hard to come by down there so I can’t leave mine yet. But ideally, yes, of course. As soon as possible.’
Thea went back to the images of models in wedding dresses online. There were thousands of them and she hated almost all of them. ‘OK, this is what I don’t want: no crinolines, no plunging necklines, nothing long and trailing, nothing that’s white.’
‘Not a wedding dress then,’ her mother said, laughing. ‘You’ll want something you don’t freeze in, for a start. How about velvet?’ The doorbell rang and she got up to answer it, leaving Thea to consider velvet.
‘Here we are, another voice for some input,’ Anna said, bringing Charlotte through to the kitchen. ‘Or did you come to see Mike?’
‘Anyone really. I was just passing.’
Thea thought briefly of Katinka and the ‘just passing’ thing. She really must get that girl out of her head. Easier said, till she saw Sean again. As he’d told her, everything that needed to be said was communicated so much better when you were actually together.
Charlotte kissed Thea hello and glanced at the computer. ‘Oooh, frocks! Is this your wedding dress? You’re cutting it a bit fine, aren’t you? The rate you were going – or rather weren’t – I thought you’d end up getting married in your bra and knickers. I don’t suppose Sean would mind that but it’s not the usual thing. What held you up? Weren’t you sure or something?’
‘Charlotte!’
Anna said. ‘Of course she’s sure! There just hasn’t been—’
‘Don’t say “time”, Mum. There has been, really. I didn’t want to jinx anything by getting too far ahead. Not after last time.’ She had a quick flashback to the cream dress hanging in the shop, the assistant unpinning her name tag from the bag and saying how sorry she was and wasn’t it lucky they hadn’t started on the alterations. ‘Lucky’ was hardly what Thea would have called it at the time.
Charlotte sat down beside her and patted her hand. ‘That was then. This is now. Your other one was a twat; this one’s a gem. I knew you two were perfect from day one.’
‘I wish I had,’ Thea said, laughing. ‘I thought he was gay and shacked up with Paul. And then because of even more crossed wires he thought I was gay too. So we were both idiots.’
‘All will be well. The mistletoe brought you together last year. You’ve got to trust that stuff. It’s magic.’
‘Charlotte, please will you come to the wedding?’ Thea suddenly asked. ‘I’d so love you to.’
‘Ooh – really? I’d love to but … hmm … I’m working till Christmas Eve so it might be tricky. I’ll see what I can do.’ She laughed. ‘It would be such fun and I didn’t have other plans. Nothing set in stone anyway.’
‘When does your show start?’ Anna asked her. ‘And where is it?’
Charlotte blushed a bit. ‘The job starts next week. And it’s, er … not too far away, thank goodness. Seasonal work pays jack shit so if you can keep travel costs out of the mix it does help. Now, let’s look at frocks. There’s nothing better on a freezing horrible day. But first, go and stand over there, Thea, and take your big jumper off.’
Surprised, Thea did as she was told. Charlotte and Anna gazed at her and Charlotte narrowed her eyes and pulled odd calculating faces as if measuring something.
‘What are you doing?’ Anna asked.
‘Eyeing up her lovely little body,’ Charlotte said with a grin. ‘No wonder Sean calls you Elf. You’d look rubbish in most of these,’ she added, indicating the screen full of gowns, and startling Thea slightly. ‘They’re proper big-girl dresses. You’d look like a kid dressing up from Mummy’s wardrobe. You need something smaller scale without being ditsy.’
‘That sounds about right but how can you be sure?’ Anna asked.
‘Years in showbiz. I can tell when a costume will work on an actor. And when it doesn’t, they get the role all wrong. Flapper,’ she suddenly said. ‘But not a hundred per cent because that would be just fancy dress.’
‘Flapper? Like a twenties type of dress, do you think?’ Anna said, looking Thea up and down. ‘That could be pretty.’
‘I don’t mean the full swirling pearls and headband kind of thing,’ Charlotte said. ‘Just the basic shape. I’ve got an idea … Shove over,’ she said to Anna, taking over the iPad. ‘Let me just look, though I could’ – she glanced at the fridge – ‘use a bit of lubrication to help me think.’
‘White or red?’ Thea asked.
‘I think white today please, seeing as we’re talking weddings.’
Thea poured her a large glass and came and sat beside her. Beneath the table, the dog woofed gently in his sleep. Thea looked down at him and saw Charlotte had taken her shoes off and was resting her feet on his body. He didn’t seem to mind.
‘Please may I look?’ Thea said, seeing Charlotte checking through one website. ‘Maybe something will leap out at me, so to speak.’
It felt as if she didn’t choose the dress, more that it chose her. There were many that were black or white, drop-waisted, embroidered, some way too sparkly and others with a mass of fringing but suddenly there was ‘the one’. Not at all garish, a colour between a deep cream and the shade of the lightest Scottish sandy hair, not far from Benji’s apricot shade; a simple couple of layers of tulle with the top one swirled with embroidered beads. The hemline was pointy, just above mid-calf length. ‘That’s it,’ Thea said, pointing to it. ‘It’s perfect. I’ll need something on top of it because it’s sleeveless, maybe a little jacket, but I love the dress.’
She looked at Anna, whose eyes had suddenly filled with tears. ‘Oh, Mum, don’t go all soppy on me, please! I probably can’t afford this anyway, it’s just a thought.’
‘It will look so pretty. Just wonderful, and you mustn’t worry about the cost,’ Anna said, sniffling into a tissue.
‘Oh, you can afford it,’ Charlotte insisted. ‘I picked this company on purpose. They make theatre costumes and look – here are the prices. They did a load for the last Great Gatsby film. There’s a branch in Soho. See? Sorted. Shall we go and get it?’
‘What, now?’
‘Why not now?’ Charlotte said. ‘When better?’
‘Go on,’ Anna said. ‘I’ll take care of the dog. I’ll even give him a walk. You two go.’
‘Right. I’ll give Ronnie a call – he should be there till later today. If he’s got your size I’ll get him to keep it for us. And if he hasn’t, then he can either order one in or we’ll start all over again.’ Charlotte was already picking out the number on her phone, squinting at the website.
Only an hour later, Charlotte and Thea were coming down the stairs of the tiny shop behind Carnaby Street, Thea holding tight to the bag containing the box with her wedding dress in it. It was perfect, just glorious, and if everything went to pieces between now and Christmas Day she’d bloody well set fire to it rather than return it and let anyone else have it.
‘Don’t tell your sister it was me who went with you,’ Charlotte said. ‘She’ll wish it had been her.’
‘She doesn’t want to come to Cornwall, why would she want to buy the dress with me?’
‘Oh, she’ll be there on the day.’
‘She’s ordered a Christmas tree, a fancy bronze turkey and she’s insisting they’ll all be at home,’ Thea told her. ‘I don’t see anything in there that says she’ll come to the wedding. I wish she would but short of cancelling it, I don’t know what more I can do. She associates that place with being trapped and scared and out of control. Nothing can persuade her it won’t happen again.’
Charlotte smiled as they jostled their way through the pre-Christmas Saturday crowd on to Regent Street. ‘Don’t you worry about it. I think we all know deep down that she doesn’t want not to be there. She’s just still a bit baby-demented at the moment. You wait.’
It was a lucky chain-store moment, the sort that doesn’t ever happen when you’re looking for something specific. Top Shop, H&M, Zara: all of them have their affordable gems and one of them was in a window on a dummy. Strangely, one of its hands seemed to be in a beckoning position, calling to Thea.
‘I like that …’ Thea said, coming to a sudden stop and causing three women behind to crash into her, almost knocking her down.
‘Oh gosh yes, I like it too,’ Charlotte said. ‘Come on.’
The jacket was fluffy fake fur, sleeves at what was called bracelet length but which went all the way down to Thea’s wrists and the perfect shade of gingery cream to go with the dress. There was a queue for the changing room but Charlotte wasn’t having that. Hollering ‘Bride on a mission coming through!’ she pulled Thea to the head of it and the gatekeeper girl showed her straight to the next free changing room.
‘Come on, put the lot on. And now I’m glad it’s only me and not your family,’ Charlotte said. ‘Because they should be the ones being stunned by the surprise of what you’re wearing and if they’d seen all this already the impact wouldn’t be quite there.’
Thea changed into the dress then put the jacket on top. It was warm and snuggly and would be just right for a beachfront breakfast.
‘Shoes?’ she asked Charlotte.
‘Boots. Long foxy boots, chunky heel, not too high,’ she said, ‘but for now, I’m knackered. Ah, and just one more thing,’ she said as they walked through the shop. ‘Look at this …’ They were crossing the children’s department which gleamed and glittered with Christmassy frocks for little girls. She pul
led a cream dress from a rack. It had subtle sequin beading in the same colour as Thea’s dress. ‘I knew something would come to me,’ she said, tapping the side of her skull. ‘The thing to do is ask Milly to be your bridesmaid. A sly trick, I know, because what kind of parent would tell a child no she can’t? But I’m pretty damn sure it’ll work.’
‘Hmm. Not sure about that. I think it would just infuriate Emily and make her even more determined. She’d say I was undermining her.’
‘That’s a point.’ Charlotte was silent for a rare moment. ‘OK, how about this then: ask Sam.’
‘To be a bridesmaid? I’m not sure he’d look that good in drag.’
‘No, you daft tart, ask him about Milly. Then he can sort out Emily. Somehow.’
As Thea paid for the little dress and the jacket, she hugged Charlotte. ‘I don’t think it’s so much the mistletoe that’s magic, you know, I think it just might be you.’
TWENTY-THREE
It was a long way from ideal, having the dog in residence, even for a few days. Benji was a quiet, patient sort, as so many really big dogs often are, but once he was out of the house he did enjoy a lot of exercise. Thea took him out twice a day, mostly in the dark, and spent many a nervy hour walking him across the green where the drunks lurked on benches even in the November cold, and sometimes through the park, which was closed to traffic at dusk and left to the shuffling deer and the dog-walkers and anyone else who liked to roam in the blackness.
Robbie and June Over-the-Road saw her coming back on the Tuesday night and Robbie grinned at her. ‘We could walk them together. You and me in the park in the dark.’ He leaned towards her, close enough for her to be repelled by the lingering smell of well-boiled cabbage. June tutted.
‘He’s going back to his owner in a couple of hours, Robbie,’ Thea told him. ‘He’s not mine.’
‘Oh, we know whose he is. He belongs to that nice young man that’s moved out. Lovely manners,’ June said. ‘You could have done a lot worse than hang on to him.’