by Chloe James
‘Oops, don’t you just hate it when they undersize stuff.’
‘Happens all the time.’ I laugh.
‘Can’t you order the size up and whilst you’re doing that I can whip you up a Margarita? The fresh limes you bought are perfect for it.’
‘Well it’s a definite yes to the Margarita but you don’t get out of the fashion decisions I’m afraid – a bigger size won’t come in time.’
‘Okay, I’ll make the cocktails and send one down. Let’s get this over with.’ I can tell by his tone he’s laughing and doesn’t really mind, so I pop inside to grab the few dresses I’ve already discarded.
Having sent up some crisps and pretty much devoured the cocktail, which was a very generous measure, we are still no further ahead in the bridesmaid dress situation. I have just been describing my turquoise cocktail dress with a large purple flower at the top.
‘No good – you might outshine the bride and that’s never a good thing,’ Jack says matter-of-factly.
‘Fair point. Her dress is very delicate; I’m not sure I should wear anything too bright. It’s no good.’ I slump down on the corner seat on my balcony. ‘I give up.’
‘Wait a minute,’ says Jack. ‘What about your flatmate Erica? Hasn’t she got any dresses you could borrow?’
‘Maybe,’ I say doubtfully. ‘She isn’t really into going out much, but I could ask her. She might be asleep, but I guess I could sneak in and have a quick look in her wardrobe.’
‘Does she sleep heavily? I don’t want to hear any screaming and shouting if she gets aggressive when you wake her up.’
I laugh. ‘She can be pretty grumpy and she has had a tough shift, but she usually sleeps quite well.’ I take a final slurp of my Margarita. ‘I’m going in.’
‘Good luck. If you get caught, I’m going to pretend I’m out.’
‘Yeah right, thanks a lot.’ I smile and go back into the flat and stand outside Erica’s door. I feel a bit furtive actually; I really don’t want to wake her as that would be mean, but I do have to get back to Jess and she is going to be mad unless I can think of a suitable alternative.
Slowly, delicately with the tip of one finger, I push open Erica’s bedroom door. Thank goodness it isn’t old so doesn’t creak. Nothing. There’s no noise other than her steady breathing. Okay, I can just creep across the room to the wardrobe and have a quick look. I did lend her my grey jumper the other day when she had lost hers.
I tiptoe across the bedroom slowly and quietly and go to open the wardrobe door. Erica gives a grunt and I freeze where I am, feeling ridiculous. Of course I’m going to tell her afterwards but this does look a tad weird. To my great relief, she turns over and settles down again. For some reason I have been holding my breath and I take a moment to get myself back together.
The wardrobe door opens smoothly and I peer inside. Unlike mine it’s fairly neat and Erica’s clothes are all stacked tidily in drawers or hung up. Typically though, she mainly wears tops and trousers. There’s barely even any skirts. It’s no good – I’m going to have to give up. Just as I’m about to close the wardrobe door, I notice a scrap of pale pink fabric squashed in the corner of the cupboard. I touch it; it seems to be a long draped skirt or something. I pull it out and shut the door and leg it back to my room. I unfold the fabric, confused. I remember this; it’s mine. It’s a long flowing tie-neck dress that you can wear in different styles. If it still fits, it might just do.
I put it on and try tying the straps up around my neck. The dress looks good. It always was flattering, fitting tightly under the chest and falling nicely to the ground. With a pair of heels it will be perfect. I don’t like the neckline though, it’s not quite right. I wander out to the balcony, feeling overdressed and slightly chilled in the early evening air.
‘Jack?’
‘Any good?’
‘Yes actually, I found an old dress I’d completely forgotten about. Not surprising really though, as for some reason it was in Erica’s wardrobe.’
‘Oh no, not a clothes-stealing room-mate!’
‘I think there might need to be an inquiry into this.’
‘What’s the dress like?’
‘Long, light pink with tie-neck straps, but they don’t look quite right.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know – it just looks wrong.’
‘Can they tie elsewhere?’
‘Yes, they can. That’s the good thing about this dress. I’m going to try one shoulder.’
‘Go for it.’
I dash inside and fiddle about in front of the mirror, tying the strap behind one shoulder and draping it over the other. This dress always was pretty clever. Yep, it’s perfect. I leg it back out onto the balcony.
‘Problem solved.’
‘Just call me Heidi Klum.’
My phone goes … It’s Jess. ‘Oh God, I need to get ready for her hen do.’
‘You’d better go then.’
‘I’m going. If you hear some strange goings-on, it’s only us.’
‘Nothing new there then,’ he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
‘Thanks. If you want to join in with the singing feel free.’
‘I’ll tune my guitar.’
Chapter 14
Jack
‘How’s it going then, Jack? You sound pretty upbeat this morning.’ It’s Sam on the phone and he’s right, I feel on top of the world today.
‘Pretty good actually. Although a bit tired. Sophia and Erica had a hen do last night downstairs, so it was late by the time I got to bed.’
‘You went to a hen night?’ Sam asks incredulously.
‘Not exactly.’ I think back to the raucous singing, the loud renditions of ‘Dancing Queen’ and the shaving foam that seemed to land like falling rainbow clouds on the courtyard below, and anywhere else it came into contact with. The moonlight had been amazing, lighting up the city skyline and the dim outline of the flats. Somehow it had all felt like a wonderful distraction, but I’m not going to even try to explain this to Sam; he’ll think I had one too many again. ‘At one point I might have played my guitar whilst everyone on the Zoom call downstairs sang along.’
‘So you’re an honorary girl now?’
‘I did help out with a clothes crisis.’
‘I don’t know what’s come over you; we need to get you back out with the lads. Mind you, it will make you an even better godfather to Carrie.’
I laugh. ‘I can be in touch with my feminine side. Wait a minute, godfather? Are you serious?’
‘Course, who else could we find to do the job? Only kidding – you’ll be the best.’
I’m feeling emotional now. ‘I will honestly look out for her to the best of my ability.’
‘I know you will.’
‘Speaking of looking out for people, I’m in demand. You know old Bertie, from Soho?’
‘Yes, great bloke. How’s he coping?’
‘Bit lonely I reckon on his own, but Sophia and her trusty team of volunteers are out delivering flyers so we can help people like him.’
‘That’s kind but …’
‘Wait, I have a message already.’ I look down at my WhatsApp.
Hey Jack, it was good to see you yesterday. Thanks for the offer of help. I found Sophia’s leaflet this morning in my letterbox. If you don’t find it a nuisance, it would be lovely if you don’t mind phoning occasionally. Be nice to hear a friendly voice. Thanks, Bertie
‘I have my first client,’ I say.
‘Client? What are you doing, consultancy on creating the best lockdown cocktails?’
‘No,’ I laugh, ‘although that’s not a bad idea. I’m phoning people who just want a chat, because they’re stuck in lockdown on their own. Bertie’s my first client but I reckon there’ll be more.’
‘You’ll be so good at it. Whose idea was that?’
‘Sophia’s.’
Sam’s silent for a moment. ‘She sounds quite something.’
‘Yes she real
ly is. We’ve got some other ideas as well. Sophia’s going to pick up shopping for people who can’t go out and I was even thinking we could get a crowd of residents and Soho regulars together to do Zoom quiz nights.’
‘Great idea – count me in.’
‘As long as Carrie comes too. She might be able to help you with the answers.’
‘Think I might leave her in another room with Tina and have a night off.’
‘Getting to you, is it?’
‘Babies are lovely but exhausting. Anyway, Tina has a couple of nights off a week at the mo to chat to her old work friends on Zoom, so it would be nice for me to have a break too.’
‘Sounds a good idea.’
‘Anyway, what are you going to do about Sophia? Have you found out her last name yet?’
‘No, I don’t want to ask. I’ve got a better idea.’
‘Mysterious.’ There’s a loud wailing. ‘I’m going to have to go. Carrie’s due her next feed.’ He holds the phone up. ‘Can you hear your gorgeous niece summoning me?’
‘She’s starting as she means to go on.’
‘Yeah right, with us all wrapped around her little finger.’
Sam rushes off and I glance at the picture of me stuck on the fridge. I’m in front of the taverna in Agios Nikolaos. I look the picture of health and happiness; the tan suits my dark colouring. I expect to feel the familiar wash of complicated feelings swamp over me, but strangely they don’t.
I settle down to look at my WhatsApp, which is binging at the arrival of more messages by the minute. I can’t believe I was bored and not sure what to do with myself. This little lot is going to keep me busy.
I read the latest. Hi my name’s Derek. I know Sophia has kindly set up this support group. (Everyone seems to know Sophia, she’s that kind of girl.) I saw this flyer and wondered if any dog lovers out there could give me some advice. Benson, my Alsatian pup I adopted just before all this hoo-ha, is extremely bouncy and eating my whole flat during this lockdown (quite literally). Obviously I can walk him once a day but he’s driving me mad the rest of the time. Any dog lovers out there with some ideas, I’d be really grateful.
I smile to myself. That must be challenging – poor old Derek. A large bouncy dog shut in for most of the day is a bit of a disaster, to put it mildly. I start flicking through the messages; some woman called Anna suggests Derek could hide treats behind the sofa so Benson can try to find them. That’s not a bad idea actually – it would keep him busy, but he might chew his way through the sofa to get to them! Then some bloke, Nick, says he’s never done that again since trying it with his dog, who didn’t find half the treats and his room eventually smelt like mouldy food and he had to throw away his sofa.
My phone bings again. It’s someone called Marge. Derek, do you really think you should be keeping a big dog in a flat? It’s hardly a sensible arrangement. Maybe you should consider rehoming him.
Just great, that’s really helpful then. It’s not exactly good advice when it’s too late, for goodness’ sake; he’s already got the dog. I hate it on these groups when people use every opportunity to have a go at others.
But we’ve got a couple more people who would like a regular call. Mavis at number 23 would love a chat every other day. What a lovely idea. I would so enjoy talking to someone other than my budgie, Sunny. I like gardening and have always played the piano as well as singing.
Greg downstairs has put: If anyone likes the sound of the sax I’m happy to play any time when I’m not at work.
Sounds great, Greg, I send back. Anyone else fancy a jamming session – we could all do some singing and play whatever instruments you have?
Count me in; Mondays or Wednesdays are good with me, say 6 p.m.? Greg.
Okay then, I type, anyone fancying a musical session, it can be playing the saucepan or the spoons, singing or any instrument. Out on your balcony 6 p.m. Wednesday week, as it will take me a while to get some music together for us all to practise.
I’ll sing if you play. I hear you were really something at Soho.
That’s a bit disturbing. Who sent this message? I squint at the screen. It’s the woman called Anna. I wonder where she heard that from? I don’t know what to put now. Perhaps I’ll just say: Or if no balcony you are welcome to sit in the courtyard whilst socially distancing of course.
Can’t wait, Anna xx
I am going to have to keep this one at arm’s length. For the first time ever I’m actually grateful for social distancing.
Be along with my deckchair then as long as it’s not raining. Looking forward to a sing-song. Be like old times. Bertie.
As long as it’s a pleasant sound. I don’t want any loud disturbance. It will upset my Minnie. Marge.
Who is Minnie? I have no idea but I’d better reassure Marge we won’t upset Minnie whoever she is.
That’s fine – it will only last half an hour at the most so we don’t disturb anyone’s peaceful evening.
I’ll take your word for it, but any unpleasant ruckus and I’ll be complaining to the residents’ association. Marge.
This Marge sounds a right one. Shame she can’t befriend Anna and let the rest of us get on with things. Still, this is an amazing start and I actually feel busy and useful for the first time in ages.
‘Hey, Sophia?’ I wander out onto the balcony.
‘Hello?’ she calls.
She was quick responding. I wonder if she was waiting to hear from me.
‘You okay?’
‘Yes, you?’
‘Brilliant thanks; your flyers are already getting an incredible response. I’ve had loads of replies.’
‘I hadn’t seen yet. Who got back to you?’
‘Well Bertie obviously – he’s really looking forward to a regular chat and a nice old lady called Mavis.’
‘You’ll be really good at this.’
‘There’s some bloke called Derek who has a large dog called Benson who’s eating the contents of his entire flat.’
Sophia laughs. ‘It’s a shame they don’t do dog TV.’
‘Great idea. I’ll try and set up a dog channel on YouTube in my spare time.’
‘Even though you don’t have a dog?’
‘That’s only a small point. Anyway, the best thing is we’re going to set up a musical evening on Wednesdays at 6 p.m. Anyone can join in and sing or play whatever instrument they fancy.’
‘That is amazing. You’ve done a fantastic job already.’
‘It was your idea. There are a couple of slightly bizarre members of this group though.’
‘You bet there are. Who in particular?’
‘Some woman called Anna who seems slightly over keen. And a right old busybody called Marge who’s going to report us all for troublemaking if we make too much noise.’
‘Marge is all right, but yes she does have to be involved in everything. She’ll be fine as long as we can convince her somehow it was her own idea. Anna I don’t know.’
‘Both seem a bit scary. Anna wants me to serenade her with my guitar.’ I pull my hand nervously through my slowly regrowing hair.
‘She’d better join the queue.’
‘Yeah right.’ I shrug the compliment off, even though I’m pleased. ‘And who’s Minnie?’
‘Oh, she’s Marge’s cat. She won’t be singing or playing the triangle will she?’
‘No, but apparently she’s easily disturbed by uncouth noise.’
‘That’s warned us then.’
I laugh. ‘But seriously, I can’t thank you enough.’
‘For what?’ she says innocently.
‘For giving me a purpose. Something to do. I feel better than I have for ages.’ I stretch myself luxuriously out on the chair and gaze at the view.
‘That’s all the cakes you’ve been eating.’
‘I was wondering if there is anything I can do in return to thank you.’ I know before she answers, she isn’t going to take me seriously, but I’ve already thought of something, which she might apprec
iate.
‘Honestly it was nothing. You really don’t owe me.’
‘No but this might help you out.’
‘Okay I’m intrigued now,’ she says and I smile.
‘Well, you know your sister Jess won’t stop trying to set you up with dodgy dates for this wedding of hers?’
‘Tell me about it – the latest one sounds worse than ever.’
‘I thought of a way to get you off the hook.’
‘Nothing will get Jess to stop. It’s never going to happen. I admire your optimism though!’
‘It’s only, I thought maybe this might be a solution …’ I hesitate, then force myself to continue. It’s now or never. ‘Maybe you’d like me to be your virtual date for the wedding. If Jess thinks you have someone, she might stop being so persistent.’
‘You?’
Oh no, she sounds surprised. What was I thinking? I’ve completely misjudged this.
‘Well yeah, I mean not with you obviously. I don’t need to be on the call but I could be up here offering moral support throughout the service. I could wear my suit and everything. I mean it doesn’t matter, it’s just an idea …’ I mumble, my voice catching.
‘Jack.’ She stops me. ‘I think it’s a great idea. You’re on, it’s a date.’
I can’t believe it. She’s said yes; she wants me to go with her to her sister’s wedding (well sort of anyway) and I’m her date. I’m on top of the world. Although – wait a minute, she wasn’t taking me very seriously a moment ago. Maybe she just thinks it’s a joke. Darn it, how do I know?
Chapter 15
Sophia
‘Jess, are you all right?’ Okay, this is a really stupid question. She’s obviously not all right; her face is streaked with tears and her mascara’s slightly smudged. All of which is totally unheard of for Jess; she usually looks immaculate.
‘Not really,’ she sniffs.
‘This is so hard. I wish I could give you a hug.’
‘I know, it’s all so tough.’ She wipes her eyes with a tissue. ‘That’s the thing, when I heard the planned wedding was going to be cancelled, I was just so upset; then it was brilliant we could go ahead with it online.’