by Nina Manning
I pushed away the tsunami of emotions, told myself to pull it together.
‘A dress. Yes.’ I gulped.
‘Great. Don’t be late.’ Caitlin turned and skipped back into the house, and I stood and watched her for a few seconds before turning and heading back to the cottage. As I half ran, half skipped back home, I felt hot tears slide down my frozen cheeks.
‘A dress, a dress. Of course, why didn’t I think about a bleedin’ dress, I’m so stupid.’
Mum was in the kitchen chopping up carrots, onions and turnips for a stew for their tea. There was a packet of butterscotch Angel Delight on the side and three bananas. I felt bad that I was going to be eating four courses and drinking champagne at the main house whilst Mum, Dad and Hunter would be having vegetable stew and Angel Delight.
I stood and looked at Mum slightly forlorn. ‘Don’t you worry, pet, I’ll have you sorted. You shall go to the ball!’ She danced a lap around me, waving an invisible wand, and then raced upstairs.
She was back down in minutes with a long black dress I had never seen before. It had short sleeves with a frill along the hem and a V-neck. It was a nice dress, but no one had ever seen me in anything like that before. Would they think I was trying too hard to fit in and to be like them? And I so wanted to be like them. On the other hand, I didn’t want to let Caitlin down and turn up in something, as she had put it, ‘not suitable’.
Mum took the dress to the living room where her sewing machine was always set up and began cutting.
‘But, Mum, your dress?’
‘Oh, pet, I haven’t worn this in years. I doubt if I ever will again, not with my hips after two kids and my penchant for cream horns.’
An hour later, Mum had taken the dress up to knee length and brought it in a couple of inches at the waist. I pulled off my jumper and jeans and pulled the dress over my vest.
It was a perfect fit. ‘How did you do that, without me trying it on with pins and all that?’
‘I know your size. Look at that, with that purple necklace of mine and a little bangle you will look lovely.’
I had a pair of black ankle boots that Mum had bought me for going out into town with my friends just before we moved here, but since I had spent the summer in flip-flops and most of the winter in wellies, I had barely worn them. Would they be the sort of footwear that was acceptable for a New Year’s dinner at Saxby House? I had no idea. But they were my only option.
Now Mum had gone to so much effort with the dress, I felt even worse that they were all staying in whilst I was invited for dinner, so I helped Mum tidy up the lounge and prepped some broccoli to go with their stew.
By five forty-five I was in the dress, wearing Mum’s jewellery, the boots with tights, and Mum had put my hair up in a French plait and sprayed the life out of it with some of her hairspray.
I went to the mirror in the hallway. I thought I might get a moment on my own, to admire myself in the dress, but everyone followed me. Mum had done such a good job in a short space of time. I looked and felt grown-up. I felt as though I would fit in just fine at the dinner tonight.
Dad stood in the lounge looking me up and down, shaking his head. ‘I can’t believe this is my daughter. You look stunning. Absolutely stunning. Doesn’t she, Hunter?’
Hunter grunted and looked up from the TV for a moment. Then nodded. And went back to watching Scooby Doo.
‘I won’t kiss you – I don’t want to ruin your look. Now do you need me to walk you over there?’ Dad reached over and we squeezed hands.
‘No, no thank you.’ I went to the hall and pulled on my black parka coat – it was pretty chilly out.
‘Bye, everyone,’ I said and Mum and Dad chorused a goodbye.
‘Ooh, hold on,’ Mum shouted and ran into the kitchen. She came back with a tray of Ferrero Rocher. ‘I have these left over from Christmas. You should never turn up to dinner empty-handed.’
I took the box of chocolates, waved at the door and head out into the chilly evening.
My stomach was doing somersaults as I walked up the back doorsteps of the main house. What would everyone think? Was this dress good enough to be accepted as one of them? Would Caitlin be pleased with my outfit choice? What would Chuck think? Before I left the cottage, I was confident with my dress choice, but now I began to doubt myself all over again.
With a hundred thoughts whirring in my head, I entered through the back porch, which was now permanently closed against the harsh winter air.
As soon as I arrived in the hallway, I could hear a cacophony of sounds, from plates and saucepans clattering to Caitlin’s twin brothers screaming upstairs and adults laughing. Then the smells hit my nostrils and I was taken back by the exotic unfamiliar scents. Judith came bustling out of the kitchen on my left; her hands full of small plates, she was dining room bound.
‘Oh my goodness, Sasha, I barely recognised you – you look absolutely cracking.’ She scurried on ahead, red-faced and perspiring. I felt all squirmy and my cheeks grew hot from her compliment. I took my coat off and hung it up in the hallway and headed straight for the drawing room where I could see a few people were gathered. It was a sea of shimmering dresses and suits and dicky bows. I was hit by a wall of perfumes and aftershaves mingled with fresh firewood burning. People were gathered in small groups of two or three, and everyone seemed to have a glass of champagne in their hand. The huge Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner of the room, the fairy lights twinkling gracefully.
Chuck was the first to turn around and when he did, he looked visibly shocked. His jaw dropped open. I realised he was impressed with what I was wearing and I liked what he was wearing too. He had on a dark grey suit and a white shirt, and on his feet were a pair of black-and-white brogues. His hair was combed back with some sort of product in it. He was the only male not in black tie.
‘Sasha!’ His eyes were wide as he strode confidently over to where I stood rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off me. I felt hot, uncomfortable and excited all at once. Then Chuck did something that threw me completely; he lifted my hand and brought it to his mouth, where he kissed it lightly before lowering it back to my side again.
I let out a small giggle, and as I did, I saw Caitlin appear at the doorway to the drawing room, where she had just come from the formal lounge. I had already envisioned the look I would receive from Ava, who was in a red off-the-shoulder dress. I had already clocked Josephine behind her, who looked glamorous with her grey hair swept back from her face with two thick silver grips and a midnight blue shimmery dress that caught the light of the chandeliers as she moved. Caitlin, however, was dressed in a frog-green ruffly ballgown that stopped just below her knee. Underneath, she wore blue tights and a pair of black ballet pumps. I didn’t think any of the colours went together, but it was typical Caitlin. Her style was so unique and I was used to it now and enjoyed the theatre she brought to events. And I always admired the way Caitlin owned her looks and didn’t care that others may not think her attire choices to be appropriate. She arrived next to Chuck and gave me a subtle once over, then lingered longer on the dress. I could see her face draining of colour. Was Caitlin jealous?
‘Caity, doesn’t Sasha look fabulous? Look at her hair! Josephine, come and see.’ Chuck called around him.
I stood for a few moments whilst Josephine and Chuck made a bit of a fuss. I felt embarrassed but happy with the attention they were giving me. Ava politely said I looked very nice. I realised I was still clutching the Ferrero Rocher and so I held them out to Ava, who looked at them with some confusion, until I said it was my offering. Then she thanked me again and wandered off across the room, where I saw she put them on a high shelf out of the way where I was sure she would forget about them. Ava then poured herself a very large glass of champagne. Caitlin sucked her mouth in and then blew out her cheeks so her eyes were really wide.
‘Wow, Sasha, you really pulled out all the stops tonight.’ I really couldn’t tell what she meant by it.
‘Has
n’t she? She scrubs up pretty well. I would say, I have two belles of the ball with me tonight. May I get you a drink? What would you like, a Shandy Bass? Lemonade?’ Chuck put his arms around both me and Caitlin, who slipped out of his grip pretty quickly.
‘Lemonade, please,’ I said to Chuck, who did a funny little bow and then walked over to the drinks trolley where Beverly was now standing helping to serve. I looked around the room and saw Chuck’s parents, who turned briefly and gave me a wave. Maxwell was in the corner of the room talking to a man I didn’t recognise, and there was another couple who looked slightly older than Ava and Maxwell, but again I hadn’t seen them before.
‘So you went for black,’ Caitlin said.
‘It was my mum’s dress – she just took it up for me.’ I instantly regretted saying it. I wish I had pretended I had owned it all along.
‘Suits you,’ Caitlin said. Ava sashayed past us in the opposite direction. Caitlin glanced at her and pushed a stray hair behind my ear. Then she started speaking really loudly. ‘It really suits you, I mean, you look super glamorous, and your hair is really stylish, you should wear it like that more often.’
I felt Ava’s stare as she walked back the other way, and as I looked to my left, she had turned away, a slow smile beginning to etch its way across her face as though she were sharing a secret with herself.
At the table, I nibbled on a roll and sipped my lemonade. I had been seated next to Caitlin and to my left was Tim, Chuck’s dad. His mum, Rayner, was opposite me and snorted loudly when she laughed. The other couple I had seen when I had arrived were Tommy and Polly, and they had known the Clemontes for many years and always celebrated the New Year together. Polly was very nice and kept asking me if I was okay, did I need anything?
Even though Caitlin had said the grown-ups would allow us a glass of champagne, I was still shocked when Beverly came up behind me with a bottle and filled my coupe glass halfway. I looked at it and saw how Caitlin looked at me with a sly smirk.
‘Take a sip, it won’t kill you.’ She sniggered and took a gulp of hers. I looked for the wince that came after people took a sip of alcohol, the way I had seen them do it on TV programmes. She nodded at me and gave her hand a wave to say that I should get on with it.
I took a deep breath and looked down at my glass. I heard a high-pitched laugh come from the end of the table, and I looked up at Maxwell – who’d gone all out tonight with a red bow tie and a paisley shirt – sat next to Rayner, who was the one shrieking and snorting with laughter.
I took the glass by the stem, knowing that this one sip could lead to so much more. I wanted Caitlin to like me, to not see me as a complete dork. I thought of my parents back at the cottage, who had probably finished their pudding by now and were sat huddled around the TV. I felt a sudden urge to be there with them. What would they think of me if they could see me now with a glass of champagne? I watched as Chuck sipped his champagne slowly whilst listening intently to something Josephine was saying to him. The candles on the table flickered, and I brought the glass closer in front of me.
‘Oh, come on, Sasha.’ I heard Caitlin next to me.
I would be fine, I told myself. Just do this one thing, then you’ll be just like them. I lifted the glass and brought it to my lips. I could feel the effervescent drink tickling my upper lip and the sweet alcoholic fragrance hitting my nostrils. The Clemontes and their friends allowing their children to drink alcohol was another alien experience. Mum and Dad had a rule that I would only be allowed alcohol when I was sixteen, and even then it would be a weak sweet wine. I hadn’t told them that we were allowed a glass of champagne, because I was scared they wouldn’t let me come to the party. Mum had only just begun to calm down about how much time I spent over here when Caitlin was off school.
I stole a glance across the table, past Josephine and Chuck who were deep in conversation, then across the room towards the window. I was looking for something to focus on when I took my first sip. Whatever I would focus on would then always remind me of this night and my first time.
Through the window, I could see the night was black but with a slither of light cascading down from the weak security light. I could see a few specks of rain hitting the window, so I focused on the flecks of water hitting the glass. I knew any moment, I would need to take the sip to appease Caitlin.
As I stared out into the black night, my eyes were drawn to a slight movement close to the window to my right. I could just about make out the outline of a face that was pressed against the glass, a face that my mother had already warned me about. Instantly her voice came back to me, ‘Stay away from him, love.’ My glass jolted in my hand and I emitted a small squeal. I looked to my hand where I felt a little champagne spill across it and into my lap. When I looked back at the window, the face had gone. I wondered if the fumes from the champagne had made me hallucinate.
There was a loud cracking noise. I turned to Caitlin to check her face for any signs of distress, and she turned to look at me. Then the room went black.
13
London, July 2009
Two months until the wedding
* * *
It’s a clear blue sky day when I arrive at the beautiful ornate building, and I can see Chuck through the window. He is waiting in reception for me as he always does, reading a pamphlet. He looks up and greets me with a wide grin when I enter. All the stress that has been building between us these last few weeks is once again redundant. We both know that what goes on in here can override even the most negative of emotions.
I walk over to him, the air from the overhead fan cooling me down from my short walk from the Tube. We fall into an easy embrace and I can already feel the tension melting away.
He takes my hand and we walk through the double doors and head to the usual room.
An hour later, we emerge ruffled and tickled as we always do, still laughing like two fresh-faced teenagers. It doesn’t matter how many times we say we would stop, we are now addicted. We know we have a problem, neither of us want to quit.
I slip my arm into Chuck’s as we stroll along the road; the sky has clouded over, but both our appearances remain sunny.
‘We’re choosing the dress next week,’ I say, as we walk.
‘Really? Don’t girls get their dresses the minute a man proposes?’ Chuck says. We are heading to the nearest café in a small side street, somewhere we can remain inconspicuous.
‘Well, yes, although not our Caitlin.’ I laugh, Chuck follows suit. Our laughter fades to silence. I’m thinking about the girl we know and love in our own ways, and I wonder if Chuck is too. ‘She loves the spontaneity – she didn’t think choosing a dress months before would make it any easier. The dress will choose her, apparently.’
‘Ahh,’ Chuck says as though he understands. Which, of course, he doesn’t.
‘You do so much for her, don’t you? You always did,’ Chuck says reflectively.
I think about Chuck’s words for a moment. I think about what I have done for Caitlin, what I am still doing.
‘She’s my best friend, and weddings don’t organise themselves, Chuck,’ I say, making light of the situation. ‘At least you don’t have to worry about a wedding speech,’ I remind him.
‘Well, that is a blessing, I suppose. Never been any bloody good at public speaking.’
We arrive outside our usual café, and Chuck, like the gentleman he is, stands back and lets me walk through the door first.
Chuck slips into a chair and I in front of him. A moment later, there is a waitress at our side. Chuck orders us our favourite coffees and a round of buttered English muffins with jam.
‘You’re still such a public school boy – buttered muffins and jam in the afternoon.’ I scoff.
‘You’re such a Hackney girl – black coffee and sugar.’ He raises his eyebrows.
‘Touché.’ I laugh.
‘Polar opposites.’ He smirks. ‘But it’s what I’ve always liked about you.’
I smile and take Chuck
’s hand in mine.
I don’t go back to the office, instead I treat myself to an early end to the day. The house is stuffy from the afternoon sun. I fling open a few windows and pull down the blinds in the living room, where the sun is reflecting its strongest rays. I feel a pang of guilt as I always do when I think of Oscar and Caitlin, both unaware of my secret meetings with Chuck. And of course I still feel horrible about turning Oscar down. I told him I couldn’t just drop everything and start thinking about my own wedding when I’m in the middle of organising my best friend’s big day. I couldn’t bring myself to explain that I don’t feel worthy enough yet to settle down and marry. I told him I wanted our time to feel special, and with Caitlin’s wedding taking up so much of my attention, we should wait until things are about just us again.
Oscar had been forlorn and then agitated for a few days even though he said he understood. Oscar is so sensitive when it comes to this sort of stuff and marriage isn’t something he takes lightly. It would have taken him a lot of effort to have worked himself up to propose. But he doesn’t understand what I have to achieve to prove to Caitlin that I am worthy one final time. I have so much riding on this wedding being successful, and I want her wedding day to be perfect. For once it’s over, nothing will be again.
I sink into the sofa and look at my phone. It has been pinging with messages and emails all afternoon. Roxy is letting me know about days she is available for me to come to her and a few of Caitlin’s friends have questions about the wedding and the overnight accommodation. There’s also a text from Oscar asking about dinner plans.