“Yes, Ruby.”
“Have you any last requests?”
“Ruby, please calm down. I didn’t know that he was going to do that and if I had known I wouldn’t have been long talking him out of it.”
“I am going to kill you!” I howled into the phone, startling a few passers-by who obviously thought that I was a few sandwiches short of a picnic.
“I’ll ring him now, Ruby.”
“You’ll have a job,” I spat. “He’s in the middle of his bloody act and at this precise moment in time is singing ‘Hey, Big Spender’ and relieving some poor bloke of his tie. I am a simple girl with simple needs – therefore how the hell have I ended up in this predicament?”
“Ruby, I promise I’ll make it up to you. Just please go along with it for now. I’ve heard that he’s a complete genius and that he does a very good job which is all I want.”
“Why won’t anyone take my feelings on board?” I asked, getting more upset by the second. “I know he’s supposed to be a genius and that he’s got a fabulous website and that he’s wonderfully well connected but I am not impressed by any of that. I’m not homophobic either. I think under other circumstances, although we wouldn’t be best friends, Gabriel and I could get on quite well but under the current ones I have to truthfully say that he is annoying the shite out of me and making me twitch.” I continued to pace up and down the pavement, breathing heavily. “You are going to be making this up to me for the rest of your life, Luke. You better start practising how to grovel as you’ll be doing an awful lot of it.”
I snapped the phone shut and turned to find Frankie looking at me sympathetically. Ella had taken Carly to another part of the bar to buy her a Coke (and take her out of my way in case my seething rage scarred her for life).
“Not a word,” I said as I stalked back inside where ‘Fifi’ was finishing her act with a flourish before disappearing back in through the door she came out of.
Two minutes later and Mandy arrived and was terribly upset to have missed all the excitement.
“Fifi Von Tease is your wedding planner?” she said, her mouth in a perfect O shape. “Wow! That’s amazing. Fifi is quite a high-profile character on the Belfast social circuit. I’ve written about her a few times in my column. I can’t wait to meet the man behind the mask.”
“I’d use that term very lightly,” I snapped.
Gabriel appeared about fifteen minutes later, looking a little less like a drag queen and a little more like a Christmas tree in yet another bright and colourful ensemble and I had to count to five hundred and nip myself hard in case I lost all control and battered him with the ice bucket sitting on the bar. I would be the laughing stock of the entire population of Swiftstown shortly because of him (or her . . . delete as appropriate) and his antics.
After he had been introduced to Mandy, Ella and Carly (who looked at him in total amazement) and given Frankie an over-demonstrative hug and kissed the air around her head forty times, Gabriel turned towards me.
“I wasn’t expecting you to arrive so early, Ruby. Did you enjoy my act?” he asked, smiling sheepishly.
The deluded eejit actually thought that there was a chance that I might be impressed.
“Oh yeah – you’re a real ace card,” I said through gritted teeth. “Would it be possible for us to get on with the matter in hand and get this day over and done with once and for all?”
“Of course. I have an itinerary here to help us along. After we’ve had lunch there’s a cake shop I’d like to visit. The chef there is French and he makes the most divine wedding cakes and has an extensive catalogue for prospective clients to view.”
“It’s a cake,” I said in disgust. “It’s made with eggs, flour and sugar and I do not need a bloody catalogue to look at. As long as it has three tiers and a bride and groom on top, that’ll do me fine.”
Gabriel laughed and spoke to the assembled group as if I wasn’t there and he hadn’t heard me.
“Three-tiered cakes are so last season,” he said. “All the society brides are getting cakes made to their own specific instructions. I had a bride last week who is a milliner by trade, trained at the London School of Fashion, you know, and her wedding cake was chocolate gateaux made in the guise of two hats, one pink and one black with feathers flowing. The guests were so impressed. I also had another bride who had her cake made in the shape of the Egyptian pyramids as that was where she and her husband were going on their honeymoon. I can’t even begin to tell you how fabulous it was!”
“Good. Then don’t,” I snapped. “Three tiers and a plastic bride and groom will suffice. Although I suppose I could compromise and ask the chef to make the groom out of marzipan. That way it’ll be easier for me to lob bits off him when he annoys me and makes stupid decisions.”
“What about the stationery?” Frankie asked, intervening quickly.
“Yes. I have another contact in the trade,” Gabriel said. “He designs the wedding stationery after the dresses have been chosen and gives a very subtle hint as to what the guests can expect the bridesmaids to be wearing on the day. He doesn’t give away colours – he just uses a certain design and gives a little taster. He is totally fabulous. That brings me to the dresses.”
Gabriel looked at me as did everyone else.
“I have a few wonderfully talented people in mind,” he said. “Vera Wang and Femme Couture as well as a few Irish designers such as Helena Quinlan and –”
“Rose Malone,” I said. “She’s fabulous. Don’t know where she trained but her design studio is based on a street not far from the city centre.”
Gabriel opened his mouth but quickly shut it again when Frankie slowly shook her head.
“Fine,” was all Gabriel said in a clipped tone before we were all shown to a table where we would be having lunch and where I hopefully would manage to eat something without feeling the need to poke Gabriel with my fork.
Mandy was only able to stay for lunch and then had to report back to her station as magazine gossipmonger. There had never been much love lost between Mandy and me but, as I was destined to marry her brother and would be compelled to refer to her as family in the near future, I decided to try and include her in proceedings. Luke had tried to suggest that I have her as one of my bridesmaids (obviously that was before I told him we would be divorced before we got married). A gossip columnist wouldn’t exactly be the ideal person to keep details a secret. Not that I cared but I knew that if word were to escape about the colour of the bridesmaid’s dress that Frankie was to wear, it might just be enough to start another civil war in Ireland.
“Thanks for coming,” I said as I walked her to the door once we had finished eating.
“It was nice to get out,” she sighed.
Once we stepped outside I noticed that her eyes were encircled by dark rings and that she looked very tired.
“Is everything all right?” I asked, studying her.
“Grand,” she said, avoiding making eye contact with me.
“What is it?” I demanded. “Speak now, woman. You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” she said weakly. “Look, I’m not sure I should be telling you this but I’ve had Mum and Dad on the phone. They’re talking about coming home in the run-up to the wedding and being there for the day itself. I don’t know how to tell Luke. You know what he’s like.”
“He’s like any other child that has been treated like crap by their parents, I would imagine,” I answered with barely concealed hostility. “There is no way that they can arrive just before the wedding. It’s supposed to be a happy time and I don’t want it ruined. It’s bad enough having Gabriel involved, wanting to flounce everything up, never mind bringing your drunken layabout of a father and slapper of a mother into the equation.”
Mandy looked like I’d just hit her (subtlety was never my strong point, not that you’d guess).
“I’m sorry but there’s no nice way of putting it, Mandy. Parents shouldn’t abandon their children and use and abuse them
at will. It’s not right and I will not allow it to happen again. Next time you’re speaking to them, tell them from me that they’re not welcome. I’ll have a bouncer installed at the chapel door to ensure they don’t come anywhere near us if I have to.”
“So you’d rather they didn’t attend then,” Mandy said, raising her eyebrows.
“In a manner of speaking,” I muttered. “Your brother won’t appreciate it and believe me neither will I.”
“I don’t want to spoil anyone’s day but they asked me to speak to Luke and see if they could come. Call a truce, if you like.”
My blood started to boil. Call a truce, my arse. A free day out, a slap-up meal and being feckin treated to drink all day because their son had just got married was more like it. His mother was probably hoping for an opportunity to get down and dirty with some of the single male guests (who would have to be blind, deaf, dumb, stupid and not at all fussy about who they were seen with).
“I’m sorry, Mandy, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. A truce might be possible one day but our wedding day won’t be it. Everyone, including you, has been hurt quite enough.”
“They’re phoning me back later in the week to find out if they can come. I’ll probably be shot for shouting my mouth off and letting the cat out of the bag. It’s innate in me at this stage though. It’s my job to expose things, so keeping secrets was never going to be my strong point.”
“Take care,” I said as she looked at her watch and took several steps back, indicating that she had to go. She looked incredibly sad and I felt very sorry for her.
Chapter 26
As it transpired the dressmaker’s was situated on a side street behind the City Hall. Rose Malone was a small little lady with auburn hair that was streaked with grey. She was dressed in an old-fashioned overall peppered with pins and needles of all shapes and sizes which covered a very plain jumper and skirt. She greeted us with a wide beaming smile and spoke with a broad Belfast accent and I immediately knew that I liked her. The fact that Gabriel (who was dressed in a bright green rig-out that would make your eyes water) was appraising her with mounting horror only served to increase my pleasure.
She showed us lots of designs which Gabriel snorted at whilst picking his nails (which were painted black, no doubt to co-ordinate with his earlier fancy-dress costume).
I told Rose exactly what I wanted which was the direct opposite of what Gabriel would have chosen and he humphed and puffed just to let me know that he was unhappy (good!).
“Okay, so you’d like something understated with the least detail possible, no train and you’re sure that you don’t want a veil?” Rose asked.
“That’s it in a nutshell. I might concede and have some type of headdress but I don’t want a veil. I hated it when I was making my Holy Communion and my thoughts haven’t changed any.”
“Understated I like but you need some type of detail and you simply must have a train!” Gabriel interjected. “You can pin it up after the wedding itself but it would look so elegant when you’re walking down the aisle.”
“No, thanks.” I said. “I know what I want.”
“And resistance is futile,” Frankie said wearily. “I’ve already been here with her and it’s pointless arguing. You’re better off just agreeing if only for your own mental health.”
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Gabriel declared before reaching into his pocket, producing a packet of very fancy brown-tipped cigarettes and scooting outside.
“Errrrrr . . . I think you’ll find you do!” I shouted after him.
I watched as Rose did a rough sketch on a piece of paper, her hand flying and her mouth set in concentration as she shaded in areas and drew lines.
“This is only an idea now but I think we can do simple and elegant without being boring or unfashionable.”
I looked at the drawing and my mouth transformed into a smile. I looked at Frankie and could tell that she was also pleased.
“That’s a really nice idea,” Ella commented, looking over our shoulders while Carly leaned into her side, “and very Ruby-ish. I would never have thought of that but I know that it will suit you.”
“Do you see anything you like?” Rose said to Frankie. “Look for a design that tickles your fancy and I can do something to suit you in whatever colour you want. And we must also get you sorted out, wee woman,” she said kindly to Carly who blinked shyly and smiled. “When is the wedding again?” she added.
“The wedding is next May,” I answered.
“I’ll have a lot of work to do in a rather short space of time but I do like a challenge,” Rose said in a friendly voice and I knew, although I’d only just met her, that she would make me a dress that I’d like and keep my (very fussy) bridesmaid happy as well.
The only person left to convince was the sour-faced leprechaun who had gone outside.
I opened the door of the shop and looked right and left and finally found Gabriel walking around the gardens of a large sprawling building on the other side of the road.
“Do you want to come and see what Rose has drawn for me?” I asked.
“If you’re happy then that’s all that matters,” he answered, being very non-committal.
“I am happy and I do like it. I dislike fuss. You and I will get along a lot better in this arrangement if you don’t try to force me into things because there’s no surer way of getting me to do the direct opposite.”
“I insist that you should have a boring dress with no train and no veil,” Gabriel announced. “You should complement that by having a three-tier cake with plastic figurines and plain white wedding stationery. I also think that you should have no music in the chapel, shite-looking flowers and that smiling or having fun should be banished for the entire day.”
I looked at Gabriel and felt my mouth twitch. “Nice try, love, but you’ve just described my perfect day apart from the fact that I happen to like flowers (shocking, I know, but blame my mother) and that smiling and laughing shall be pre-requisites to attendance because I intend to crack my face that day.”
“You really do love him, don’t you?” Gabriel said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, I do,” I said, half-expecting him to turn around and say ‘poor fella’ but he didn’t.
“As long as you don’t end up in the same predicament as the poor sods that wind up in there,” he said, gesturing towards a sign that told us that we were in the grounds of a refuge centre for victims of domestic violence.
“I think that’s quite unlikely, don’t you?” I said.
“Hmmm,” Gabriel responded. He was probably thinking that if the situation ever were to arise Luke would come off worse. (What he didn’t realise was that my bark was infinitely worse than my bite, scary though it may be. I just wasn’t going to tell him that.)
“I suppose we should go back in and see the others,” I said. “Frankie and Ella have to get home to their children and we still need to go and visit the cake shop –” (and their vast array of plastic figurines) “– and go and look at the wedding stationery.”
“Okay,” Gabriel agreed.
As we walked back across the road I was taken with a sudden feeling of déjà vu, as if I had been there before. I decided that I must be imagining things however and put it down to a very distracting day.
“Are we ready to go?” I asked as we walked back in to find Frankie, Carly and Ella gathered around Rose who was working her magic again and transfixing them with her drawings.
Frankie held up a finger and then gasped. “Wow!” she said.
“I saw something similar in a magazine this week,” Gabriel said, peeping over their shoulders and trying to feign disinterest but failing. “Do you follow the trends at London Fashion Week, Rose?”
I stifled a smile as Rose gave Gabriel a bemused look.
“No, dear, but I am a great believer in developing dresses that will suit the wearer and her figure and make the bride happy. That’s the only trend I’m interested in and it’s worked for m
e this past forty-five years.”
“It’s a good trend,” I agreed.
Rose showed me the drawings for the bridesmaid’s dress and I looked at them in delight (yes, delight . . . I think I was finally getting into the swing of things . . . just a wee bit, mind!).
“Look at this one,” Frankie said, displaying another picture in front of her chest. “Isn’t it amazing? Our wee flower girl is going to look stunning.”
I looked at the sketch and imagined Carly (who was grinning from ear to ear) and her blonde ringlets and smiled. It would be perfect.
As we prepared to leave and I made my way past the wedding dresses and evening gowns that were on display at the door and walked out into the afternoon air, I again experienced the strange notion that I had been there before.
“Frankie,” I said.
“Yes, Rubes?”
“Have I ever been here before?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have we ever been on this street before?”
“No. Sure, there’s nothing here. No shops or anything that would bring us here.”
“Perhaps you were here in a past life,” Gabriel suggested helpfully. “You were probably a founder member of one of those terrorist groups who went round annoying everyone and being totally disagreeable.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, linked arms with Frankie and bade Rose goodbye.
“I’ll give you a wee call in a few weeks, love, and you can come back and talk about it some more after I’ve had time to put some designs together properly,” Rose smiled. “And maybe by that stage you’ll have remembered. These streets all look the same. You’re probably just mixing it up with another one.”
“Maybe I am,” I said, feeling sure I wasn’t but now wasn’t the time to ponder over it. I had people to see and things to do and a wedding to plan.
Anyone for Me? Page 15