‘What’s wrong, baby?’ Miller asked, tucking his phone away as he put his arm around me. After congratulations and hellos had been exchanged between him and the girls, I filled him in on my dilemma. ‘I don’t know what the problem is,’ he shrugged. ‘It’s your day, you do what you want. Invite who you want, leave out the people you don’t want, and if they don’t like it or take offence, tough.’
‘My thoughts exactly, Miller,’ nodded Daphne, and I looked at Georgie in despair.
‘Guys, you just don’t get it,’ she added, backing me up. ‘All of these women have spent a lot of money on Abbie’s dresses, no matter how hideous some of them were. It’s a real slap in the face to not return the favour and leave them out of pocket.’
‘Then it’s simple. We’re honest about only wanting a small affair,’ Miller stated, ‘and I’ll pay for you all to have a luxury bachelorette party weekend somewhere abroad, and buy them all a designer dress for a night out. How does that sound?’
‘Expensive,’ I retorted, still worried about how they’d react.
‘Not to me it’s not. I’m sorry to be harsh, Abbie, but most of these girls aren’t your real friends, Fi especially. I don’t mind you inviting the ones you do like to the wedding as normal guests, but getting married is about us exchanging our vows in front of the people who are important to us, not some show-off, one-up-manship spectacle to outdo each other. Deal?’
‘Well said,’ called Daphne.
‘Got to admit he has a point, Abbie. If they’re going to take offence after an offer like that, it’s no great loss if they cut you out of their lives, is it?’ Georgie added.
‘I guess not,’ I conceded. ‘Ok, we have a deal.’
‘So, when are we doing this?’ Daphne asked.
‘Baby, you wanted soon. You tell me where and when and I’ll make it happen,’ Miller confirmed, kissing my temple. I bit my lower lip as I gazed up at him.
‘Well, we’re already agreed on Dilbury church, but Dad always dreamed of me having an evening reception at Severn Manor at Christmas time. I’d love to do it, for him as well as for us,’ I advised, my heart fluttering at the thought that after years of imagining, it might finally come true.
‘The place I walked you home from in the snow, right? The night we had our first kiss?’
‘Yes,’ I nodded, touched that he remembered that important moment in our relationship.
‘Then consider it done,’ he nodded, kissing me again.
‘You can’t plan a wedding at Severn Manor just like that,’ Georgie scoffed. ‘It’s one of the premier wedding venues in the UK. They’re booked years in advance.’
‘Then it’s a good thing Abbie’s marrying a man of means who can be very persuasive when he wants,’ Miller grinned as he looked down at me. ‘Money talks, and I don’t care how much it costs, I’m giving my girl the wedding of her dreams this Christmas.’
‘Miller,’ I whispered, my eyes filling with tears.
‘I want me a Miller,’ Georgie sighed, sniffing loudly before blowing her nose as she started crying again.
‘Well, if you’d just ring Veston back, maybe you would,’ scolded Daphne as she dabbed her watery eyes.
‘Weston,’ Georgie and I chorused.
‘Who’s Weston?’ Miller asked.
‘We have a lot to catch up on,’ I reminded him.
‘We do,’ he agreed. ‘And lovely as it is to see you, ladies, I’d like to spend some time with my gorgeous fiancée, so if you’ll excuse us, we can discuss plans when we come home this weekend.’
‘Fiancée,’ I repeated, giving him a dreamy look. I loved the sound of that word rolling off his tongue. He smiled and clutched my chin, then started to kiss me, softly at first, then with more urgency. My hands found their way up into his soft hair, tugging at it as my body ignited into a primal need to reconnect with him, and I let out a low moan of pleasure as he groaned.
‘Ermmm, hello, still here, creepily watching and gagging,’ called Georgie with a giggle.
‘Good night, you two, see you soon,’ murmured Miller as he reached over to terminate the call, then pulled me back into his arms.
Chapter Seventeen
The Dress
December
I WAS HAVING A flashback to the nightmare of Rachel’s final dress-fitting day as I headed from the same changing room in Bridezilla down to the private viewing room, where Daphne, Georgie, Charlie, and Quinn were waiting patiently to see me in my dress. My stomach felt like a stormy sea, churning and wild. I was getting married next Saturday, and I was having serious regrets. Not about Miller, about this damn dress!
I’d tried on so many over the last few months, despairing of ever finding one that I loved, so I’d settled. And right now I felt like crying. Like most little girls, I’d dreamed of finding a handsome prince and wearing the perfect dress on the day I exchanged my vows with him. Well, I’d struck gold with Miller, but the dress … my God, the dress. What had I been thinking?
I stopped just short of the double doors to the room and looked down at myself. Maybe I was just getting overly anxious. After all, it was the biggest day of my life. It was an expensive designer creation, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? I covered my face with my hands and tried to take some deep breaths. Georgie and Daphne had come on the first two dress shopping events, when I’d come away empty handed. Only Georgie had seen this one so far, as Daphne had had another viewing on her cottage and couldn’t make it.
Georgie hadn’t been overly enthused when I’d showed it to her a few weeks ago, but her head had been all over the place at the time dealing with something else, so I’d just taken her lack of enthusiasm with a pinch of salt. But now I was wondering if I should have paid heed to her muted response. There was no way I’d get another dress altered in time, and with my curves, it wasn’t like an off-the-rack one would fit perfectly. I took a deep breath, gathered up the skirt, and walked into the room. All four women looked up at once.
Quinn choked mid-sip of her champagne, spraying a fine mist of it in front of her as she coughed and shook her head.
Daphne’s hand flew to her chest as her jaw dropped, and she looked over the top of her glasses with an ‘Oh my.’
Charlie dropped the canapé she was eating, her empty fingers remaining frozen by her parted lips.
And Georgie, well Georgie threw herself back on the horseshoe-shaped sofa as she roared with laughter and clutched her stomach.
‘So, it’s a big thumbs up for the dress, huh?’ I stated sarcastically, as Maggie, the shop owner, helped me up onto the podium.
‘Abbie, please tell me this is some sort of a joke?’ Daphne exclaimed.
‘It’s even funnier that it’s not,’ Georgie howled, reaching up to wipe some tears from her cheeks.
‘And I thought I was the one with the racy mind. Wow, Abbie, I … I … I … You know what, I actually have no words,’ Charlie added, throwing her hands in the air.
‘Wow, you Brits have a totally different style when it comes to wedding dresses,’ observed Quinn in her strong American accent, looking from me to my friends, then back to me again. ‘You look like you’re going to that fancy dress thing you have, what do you call it? With the preacher in his collar?’
‘Vicars and tarts,’ I sighed, looking down at my overly enhanced cleavage and the plunging neckline. ‘I’m going to be getting married looking like a tart.’
‘Abbie, really, what were you thinking?’ Daphne added with a shake of her head. ‘That’s not a tart’s wedding dress, we need to upgrade it to a slapper’s. I think I can see nipple through the sheer fabric!’
Charlie looked at Daphne wide-eyed as Georgie started snorting and hyperventilating in the corner, and I sank like a high-rise block of flats that had just been demolished, crumpling down into a heap on the podium.
‘What’s a slapper?’ asked Quinn, looking bemused.
‘Someone who wears a dress like that on a night out, let alone at a wedding. My God, Reverend Potter wi
ll have a heart attack, never mind the rest of the male guests,’ Daphne stated, fanning herself with her hand as she shook her head. ‘Abbie, please tell me this is a joke, that you have the real dress in the changing room.’
‘This is a highly expensive piece of couture,’ Maggie stated, with more than a touch of offence in her tone as I put my head in my hands.
‘Cowture more like, as it looks like a heap of crap,’ Georgie howled. ‘Oh, Abbie, did it seriously look this bad when I saw it last time?’
‘You approved this?’ Daphne gasped. ‘Georgie Basset, what were you thinking? She’d have looked classier going up the aisle in a see-through bikini!’
‘Is it really that awful?’ I moaned, lifting my head. With only a week to go, I needed reassurance right now, not all of this negativity.
‘I may not know what a slapper is, but I’m pretty sure that if the guests can see you need a wax on your hoo-hah, it’s not a good thing,’ Quinn shrugged.
‘I’m leaving it until the last minute, in time for the honeymoon,’ I protested.
‘What beautician do you go to?’ giggled Charlie. ‘It doesn’t have to be long enough to plait between waxes.’
‘Stop, stop,’ gasped Georgie. ‘My sides are hurting, I can’t take any more!’
‘You can’t?!’ I cried, feeling on the verge of tears of utter despair. ‘I’m getting married in a week and this is the dress! There are no alternatives, I’ve tried on everything in the shop and hated them all, and this has been altered to fit me already.’
‘Abbie Carter, that has not been altered to fit,’ Daphne stated as she rested her linked hands on her tummy and gave me a prudish look. ‘If it had been, your breasts wouldn’t be heaving out of the top like two giant watermelons, and the only man who should be able to see the bride’s knickers on the day is the groom.’
I looked down at it again and groaned. Seriously, what had I been thinking? It was a thin-strapped affair, with a see-through lace bodice that had a sweetheart neckline which plunged at the front down to my belly button. At the hips were rows and rows of shiny white satin ruffles that cascaded into a long train at the back, but it scooped up at the front, showing the top of my thighs, and apparently my vagina, while showcasing my legs. They were right. It was hideous, crass, and … slutty!
‘I wanted to look sexy for Miller, to make sure he remembered how I looked on our special day,’ I moaned, my shoulders slumping in defeat at my epic fail.
‘I think everyone’s going to remember how you looked,’ Charlie chortled. ‘Intimately. They’ll need to have paramedics on standby.’
‘Miller loves you for being you, Abbie. I haven’t known you as long as these other ladies, but this isn’t you, and honestly, I think he’d be horrified if you turned up on Saturday in this.’
‘I’m horrified. Even that hussy barmaid Rowena would have more class than to wear this monstrosity on her wedding day,’ Daphne added.
‘So what do I do?’ I begged. ‘I’m all out of options. Georgie, for God’s sake, stop laughing! You saw it, you saw it and you said it was unique and unforgettable.’
‘Well, it is,’ she agreed, sitting up and grabbing a tissue from the box, which were meant for everyone to wipe away tears of pride and happiness, not hysterical laughter. ‘Just not in a good way.’
‘And you let me buy it? As best friend and chief bridesmaid, it was your duty to be honest with me, to stop me from making a fool of myself. Some best friend you are!’ I grated, my stress levels rising.
‘She has a valid point, Georgie,’ agreed Charlie. ‘If you were my best friend, I’d sack you from the position.’
‘Very valid,’ added Daphne, flashing her a glare. ‘And I’d never speak to you again.’
‘Poor Abbie, what are we going to do? She can’t wear this and the wedding’s on Saturday,’ Quinn reminded us all.
‘Ok, ok, enough with the Georgie bashing,’ she replied, wiping her eyes and sitting up straight. ‘I was distracted on the day we saw it, then woke up in a cold sweat the week after, realising it was awful and that it wasn’t the right one for Abbie, so I rang Maggie. But she told me it was too late, that the alterations to fit Abbie had already been started.’
‘Still not winning any “best friend of the year” trophies, Georgie,’ Daphne scolded.
‘Well, I should,’ Georgie said firmly, ‘as I didn’t just accept that. I’m sorry, ok, I thought it would be a good giggle to let you all see this dress, as there was nothing we could do about it anyway. I didn’t mean to upset you, Abbie, I thought you’d see the funny side.’
‘Not funny, Georgie, I’m close to tears! And what do you mean, “this dress?” There is no other dress. I’m totally screwed.’
‘I think the title of “bestest and most awesome friend” will be bestowed back on me in about five minutes,’ she said with a gentle smile at me. ‘Maggie, is it ready?’
‘It is,’ Maggie nodded.
‘Well, don’t just stand there, go and get it to show Abbie!’
‘What’s going on?’ I demanded, forcing myself to stand up as Maggie trotted out of the room.
‘Wait a minute and you’ll find out,’ Georgie told me. ‘But if I know you at all, and I think I do, no matter what these naysayers may say after I made one mistake on an off day,’ she added with a scathing look at the other three, ‘I think you’re going to love what I’ve had done. At least I hope so. I hope you’re not going to be mad with me for not getting your approval first.’
‘Approval for what, Georgie?’ Daphne demanded, taking the words right out of my mouth. ‘Stop talking in riddles and put us, and poor Abbie, out of our misery.’
‘Look,’ Georgie smiled, flicking her head behind me to the door. There was a gasp as everyone did as they were told. Charlie and Quinn both raised their hands to their mouths, and Daphne snatched a tissue out of the box as her eyes filled with tears.
I slowly turned around, my heart stopping for a second, as I saw Maggie standing there with the most stunning white vintage lace wedding gown I’d ever seen. It had a Bardot neckline, off the shoulder, with three-quarter sleeves. The bodice and skirt had a soft white satin lining, so unlike this current dress, no hint of nipple or vagina was going to be seen. It nipped in at the waist, where there was a thin white satin belt adorned with a gorgeous crystal embellishment, then the lace skirt fell to the floor at the front and flowed out into a small train at the back. I swallowed a lump of emotion in my throat. It was perfect. If I could have sketched my perfect dress, I was looking at it right now. Something about it seemed so familiar, but I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was as I stared at it.
‘Do you like it, Abbie? I had it altered to fit you, based on your measurements for your current dress. I wanted it to be a surprise,’ Georgie said behind me.
‘I … I … I love it, it’s stunning,’ I whimpered, realising that I had tears of sheer relief and happiness rolling down my cheeks. ‘Why does it seem so familiar? There’s no way I would have overlooked this when I tried on all the dresses in the shop.’
‘You don’t recognise it?’ Georgie asked in a surprised tone.
‘I … feel like I know it, but I just can’t place it,’ I replied as I turned to face her. She grabbed a tissue from the box Daphne was hogging and walked over to me.
‘The picture in your lounge, on your bookcase. The one next to the picture of where you and Miller first met, when you fell into his arms at The Abbey,’ she said with a smile as she dabbed away my tears with a tissue. I gasped, my hands flying to cover my heart as I twigged immediately.
‘It’s my mum’s wedding dress,’ I whispered, a slew of positive emotions warming me up from the inside out and making a fresh batch of tears start to flow.
‘I remembered seeing it up in your attic months ago when I helped put away hideous bridesmaid dress nine after Miller returned it to you, so I snuck in while you were busy with clients the other week, got it down, had it dry cleaned, and asked Maggie if she could do a
quick turnaround on adjusting it. I hope you’re not mad with me?’
‘I’m mad you put me through this torture this morning,’ I told her in a mock scold. I flung my arms around her neck, hugging her tightly to let her know she was forgiven. ‘Of course I’m not mad. I’m over the moon. It’s the perfect idea, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself. My mum and dad may not be here, but it’s like I’ll have a little bit of them with me on my special day.’ I sobbed as Georgie started crying too and hugged me back.
‘Careful, you’re going to get mascara on this dress,’ she warned.
‘So? I already paid for it, or rather Miller did.’
‘Please tell me we can have a burning party for it,’ Daphne called. ‘I’ve never seen anything so hideous in my life.’
‘No,’ I said firmly, straightening up and wiping my cheeks. ‘As it happens, I know just the person to send it to.’
‘No, you wouldn’t,’ gasped Georgie. Fi-Fi had turned down the offer to come on my hen weekend in Malta, so she’d missed out on Miller’s offer to get her a designer dress as compensation for not being a bridesmaid at our wedding. Turns out Dave had come home and caught her cheating on him, so he’d thrown her out and cut off her monthly financial allowance. Last I heard, she was hanging out in all the hot spots in Cheshire, trying to snag herself a Premier League footballer.
‘Please, a slutty dress for a slut, it’s perfect for her,’ I beamed. ‘This way she gets an expensive dress and I don’t have to hear her moan how she got me one and I didn’t return the favour.’
‘I have no idea who you’re talking about,’ called Quinn, ‘but can we please see you in the new dress, Abbie?’
‘Yes, please go and change,’ agreed Daphne.
‘Quickly,’ Charlie giggled, holding up her champagne glass for a refill as Maggie’s assistant brought in another bottle.
‘Go,’ Georgie nodded, taking both of my hands in hers. ‘I can’t wait to see what it looks like on you. Am I forgiven?’
‘I’ll tell you in five minutes,’ I teased, kissing her on the cheek.
Never the Bride (Dilbury Village #1) Page 28