Are You Ready?

by Amanda Hearty

  ‘I don’t know what to believe, Molly. About that man or where we’re going. I went out last night for a few drinks, as you seemed as usual too busy, taking on even more work. Since you changed jobs, I thought you’d be happier, we’d be happier, but you seem more interested in pots, pans, cookers and recipes than in me. I never see you any more. We’ve to keep cancelling dates and nights out because of your work, and then last week to hear you didn’t want to do the scuba-diving course … I mean, what the hell are you trying to tell me? And then when I go out for a few drinks you text me to say you have taken on more work. Where do I fit in, Molly? I seem only to be there to pay the bills.’

  Molly was speechless. She couldn’t believe it, Luke getting so upset and angry with her.

  ‘You don’t know where you fit in?’ she shouted. ‘I’ll tell you where! It’s beside me. You’re my soulmate. I love you, Luke. If it wasn’t for you and Auntie Fran I would probably still be stuck back in that miserable job in funds. I’m sorry you are not as happy about my new job, but I am. This is my life now. I adore cooking and baking, and am lucky people are paying me to do it, paying me to be happy. Why can’t you see that?’

  ‘Molly, to me, work is just work,’ Luke explained. ‘I don’t understand why you want to spend extra hours and weekends baking and engrossed in cookery books. I’m glad you love your job, but I didn’t think it would become an obsession.’

  Molly was about to reply when her mobile started ringing, and she saw it was Sarah’s sister Mel. Mel had said she would ring today to confirm numbers and menu for the christening.

  ‘Take the call, Molly, it probably means more to you than I do, anyway.’ And with that Luke walked out the door, and Molly had no choice but to answer the call: a client was a client.

  63

  Sarah was sitting outside, having her lunch overlooking Dun Laoghaire pier. She had walked down from the gallery in Monkstown and bought a chicken caesar bagel in Itsabagel, and was now watching boats coming in and out of the harbour, mothers walking buggies and babies, people strolling up and down the pier to lose weight, and people like herself getting some fresh sea air and escaping work for an hour. The bagel was very filling, and Sarah washed it down with a bottle of pink lemonade. It was a beautiful day, summer had finally arrived.

  Sarah had always loved the pier, it was so refreshing to be able to spend time watching the waves, birds and boats. It was very popular with all Dublin southsiders, and you could never walk there without bumping into someone you knew. Her mum and dad had always walked her and her sister down here from their house in Monkstown when they were younger, and if it was hot enough Sarah and Mel used to walk on to Sandycove beach to play in the sand and paddle in the water. Mel was a brilliant swimmer, and when she was old enough swam in the famous Forty Foot before school each morning. Sarah was never that fond of leaving her bed early, but still always enjoyed spending weekends near the water, sand and boats – it was like being on a permanent holiday!

  Sarah knew how lucky she was to live close to work, and within walking distance of the pier, beach, great shops and restaurants. It would be hard to leave this beautiful affluent area, and even though she didn’t want to, the likelihood was she would be forced to if she wanted to buy her own place.

  She had gone to see the mortgage broker, and after calculating the maximum mortgage she would possibly qualify for, and the largest repayments she could manage, he had told her that really it would be better if she bought a property with someone else. But who? she had asked. Her sister was married, and all her friends were in relationships.

  The apartments and townhouses she could even consider buying were miles out of Dublin, or else the size of a garden shed: little matchboxes! The alternative was moving out and renting, but she always felt that was a waste, as you were just paying off someone else’s mortgage. It wasn’t that she hated living at home, but it was simply time that she moved out. Secretly she had always hoped she could avoid all that flat-sharing and renting with strangers, and just move from her family home to a house with her fiancé or husband, but so far that had not happened. There was such pressure to own the perfect apartment or house now, and so many people who could afford to buy something the minute they got a job. But working in a gallery was not the biggest money-earner, and being single was also a big black cross against buying anywhere. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but for now she had to get back to work and back to earning money that one day would help her decide.

  64

  After days of scanning newspapers and the web for houses and apartments, Sarah was happy to forget about it for one night. So when Ali asked her if she was free to meet after work for a bite to eat and a catch-up, she said yes at once.

  ‘That new restaurant Real Gourmet Burger has opened up in Dun Laoghaire, why don’t we go there for a burger, and maybe a walk on the pier after?’ Sarah suggested.

  Ali had agreed and at 7 p.m. they headed into the restaurant. As it was new and had gotten rave reviews for its organic burgers with every possible topping, there was a huge queue.

  ‘Why don’t I take your name and number, girls?’ the waitress said. ‘I’ll ring you when your table is ready, it will be about forty-five minutes.’

  Sarah and Ali decided to walk the pier while they waited.

  ‘This will help us work up an appetite for one of those big burgers,’ Ali joked.

  ‘And for me to hear all about the wedding,’ Sarah said. ‘I can’t believe it is so soon, I can’t wait.’

  Ali eagerly brought her up to date on all the plans.

  ‘My mum and sisters came up to Dublin last weekend, so we headed into Grafton Street, but it was a disaster! Every shop we went to asked what time our appointment was. Appointment? We had none, and we realized after about the sixth snotty stuck-up sales girl that you have to make appointments with all the bridal shops. And they all have waiting lists, it’s awful.

  After all the years of waiting for a guy to ask you to marry him, you then have to wait again for a dress!’

  ‘Yes, Ali, I should have warned you. My sister went through the same nightmare. So what did you do?’

  ‘Well, we all had lunch in Café Bar Deli, then we went looking for bridesmaids’ dresses, but that was a nightmare too. Once again you had to make an appointment, and the shops that you could walk straight into were mostly awful. Their dresses were long and heavy, completely wrong for a summer wedding. Jill and Kate are young, they want to look pretty and kind of sexy, not like some over-the-top American debutante!’

  ‘Ali, we found a few nice places. I’ll write down their names for you. But it is amazing how many bitter and twisted sales girls there are. We couldn’t believe it, but I suppose they must be jealous of beautiful brides and their husbands, as most of them are over-the-hill spinsters!’

  ‘That is exactly what we thought the other day. But Sarah, it is going to be hard, my sisters are complete opposites in every way. And they fight like cats. I can’t imagine them agreeing on anything. They are so difficult. But they are coming up to Dublin again this weekend, so we’ll see.’

  Sarah knew the stress of picking out bridesmaid dresses, because she had been a bridesmaid along with Mel’s best friend Julie. Julie was tiny and had only wanted short dresses, while Sarah, being so tall, had wanted something long. It had taken months of discussions and alterations before they had both agreed.

  ‘Don’t worry, weddings always turn out right in the end. You will find perfect dresses for everyone, and it will be fab!’

  Sarah’s mobile rang and it was the restaurant saying their table was ready. As the girls walked back up the pier, Ali turned to Sarah.

  ‘Sarah, there was another reason I wanted to meet you tonight. You know I’ve asked Molly to do the catering?’

  ‘Yes, Ali, she is chuffed, you are so sweet,’ Sarah said.

  ‘Well, I’ve got another friend who is very talented and could help me out … you!’

  ‘What could I do to help you?�
�� Sarah asked, thinking she couldn’t cook or sing or perform a marriage ceremony.

  ‘Well, you are a great artist, and you are always doodling and sketching when we are out, and your work in college was always fabulous, so I would love it if you could design me a wedding invitation.’

  Sarah was stunned. She had never done anything like this before; she hadn’t even shown her work in public for years.

  ‘Sarah, I would adore it if you could do it,’ encouraged Ali, her face serious. ‘Imagine having my own personalized one-off invites! Please consider it.’

  As they walked into the restaurant and were shown to their table, a million thoughts ran through Sarah’s head: could she do it, would she like to do it, what if her work was awful? But then her overriding feeling was that she loved art and painting, always had, and that she would love to do something creative to help her friend. Ever since Hugh had bought her that canvas she had been doing a lot of painting in the evenings, in her back garden, and bringing canvases down to the beach to paint surfers, boats and waves. That act of kindness and encouragement from Hugh had inspired her, so before she knew it, she had agreed to design Ali and Robin a fabulous wedding invite. And as the girls cracked open a bottle of wine, they discussed ideas, colours, paper and envelopes.

  65

  After meeting Sarah during the week, Ali had a large list of shops that stocked bridesmaids’ dresses. Ali’s mum and sisters were arriving from Kilkenny on Friday evening, so that they could head to Dublin city centre early on Saturday morning. Ali was in the middle of making them all salmon and noodles when she heard them arrive. Ali opened the door and was almost bowled over by Jill and Kate, as they both screamed how they were bursting to go to the bathroom, as their ‘mean’ mother hadn’t stopped the whole way up. As they ran to the bathrooms, Ali gave her mum a big hug and kiss.

  ‘They are driving me nuts, Ali. You would swear they were both getting married with their carry-on. All week they had me up and down to the city looking at other dresses, and all night looking at dresses online, and then on Wednesday after I had made a big lasagne for dinner they both announced they were on diets for the big day! Diets for bridesmaids, did you ever hear the like? Well, I was furious, so your poor father and the dogs had to eat the whole dish. So I haven’t cooked them anything all week; they can cook their own bird food for all I care. And they drove me crazy all the way up here, asking how much was the budget, as they would like to get dresses tailor-made. So I just ignored them, and their cries for the bathroom, and drove as quick as I could to come see you, my little pet.’

  Ali opened a bottle of red wine and handed her mum a glass. She obviously needed it.

  ‘I know they are difficult, Mum, but they are my sisters and I want them as bridesmaids. Sarah gave me the names of places to check out, so tomorrow we’ll try to find them – and me – something good.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about them, love, we’ll look for you first, it’s your big day. Did you get any appointments?’ her mum asked as she sank into Ali’s oversized couch.

  ‘Yes, I did, we’ve the first in The Wedding Boutique at 10 a.m., then Ciara Bridal, followed by Bridal Wraptures and Pronuptia. It will be a busy day, but they have all warned me that appointments can only last a maximum of half an hour. No fairytale bridal bliss day out, then. It’s all very businesslike, in and out. So we should have plenty of time to look for the girls also. Even if they are acting like Cinderella’s two selfish, ugly sisters!’

  66

  Ali spent hours fighting with her sisters over dress colours – she wanted baby pink and they wanted anything but. They kept explaining to Ali how their different hair colours and slightly different heights meant they could never wear matching dresses; but eventually they all put their differences aside and enjoyed a nice evening of food, wine and TV. The next morning, though, that wine must have gone to their heads, as Ali couldn’t get Jill or Kate up.

  ‘Five more minutes,’ Jill kept on whispering.

  ‘Jill, if we don’t make this appointment by 10 a.m. then I’ll have to wait two weeks for another one. That’s not fair, get up.’

  Kate was the same, and Ali got upset, as the day she had looked forward to all week was about to turn into a disaster.

  Eventually her mum went in and shouted at the girls. ‘If you two lazy lumps do not get up, then not only will Ali make me the bridesmaid but you won’t be allowed to go on the hen night, or mingle with any of the groomsmen on the day. I’ll make sure you are kept so busy you won’t even know there are any men at the wedding.’

  The fear of not meeting men must have scared Ali’s two single sisters, as suddenly the girls were flinging on their tracksuits and running to the car. They were still late for their appointment, but only by ten minutes.

  They arrived in the renowned Wedding Boutique bridal shop and saw the queues of girls and their mothers.

  ‘You see, people are not only here early for their appointments, but others who don’t even have appointments are hopeful that someone might not show at their allotted time, because then they might get to try on our fabulous dresses,’ the sales assistant said.

  ‘I was about to cancel yours, but I suppose you have made it just in time,’ she added snootily, looking Ali up and down. Ali wished she had put on make-up and not worn her runners, but she had wanted to be comfortable, and ready for a day of walking all around town.

  As she walked into the bridal chamber, she was stunned by the range of dresses. They were beautiful, like masterpieces. Each could paint a different picture, tell a different story. They were made of lace, silk, chiffon; they were sparkly, simple, over-the-top, short, long, and in more shades of cream and white than Ali knew existed. The range here suited the range of different girls that would walk through the door, Ali thought. No two girls are the same, so I guess no two dresses should be, either.

  The dresses were surrounded by beautiful veils, tiaras, bags, shoes and wraps. ‘There’s everything you could possibly need,’ Jill gasped. The last time they had tried to go bridal-dress shopping they had not even been allowed to look at the clothes, so they were amazed to see these once-in-a-lifetime dresses up close and personal. Ali’s head spun, how could she choose the right one for her? Which type should it be?

  A different sales assistant steered Ali into the extra-large changing room. ‘It’s to fit in all the layers, trains and veils,’ the assistant laughed. She explained that it looked like there were hundreds of dresses, but really there were only about five styles.

  ‘So, what style do you like: fishtail, A-line, column, empire or ball gown?’ She showed Ali some and Ali’s mum thought the two-piece A-line was the nicest. The girl then brought them all to a rail with this style of dress.

  ‘Pick out four, and I’ll be back in two minutes,’ she said.

  ‘Two minutes to pick your wedding dress? Is she mad?’ Jill laughed. ‘This is the most important thing you will ever wear, we need more than two minutes.’

  But they did do it, and then Ali and the assistant went back into the changing room.

  ‘You need help getting a wedding dress on. There are so many layers, and they are all so fragile, so never try one on when you are alone.’ The girl nattered on. Ali was too much in shock, starting at her reflection. She couldn’t believe she was seeing herself in a wedding dress.

  ‘I’m really getting married,’ she said out loud, by accident.

  The assistant laughed. ‘Most girls say that. It is a bit of a shock, you never believe it until you are in the dress. But wait until you have the veil, shoes, jewellery and your hair done. You will float down that aisle with excitement.’

  As the assistant laced up the back of the two-piece, Ali felt like ringing Robin to thank him for asking her to marry him. She wanted to tell him what she was up to, but knew it was bad luck to even discuss the dress, let alone show it to your fiancé.

  As she walked out of the dressing room, her mum started crying. ‘My beautiful baby girl is getting married. I don�
�t believe it.’

  Kate held her mum’s hand, while Jill went to take a photo. ‘So we can look back later and see what ones we want.’

  ‘Oh no! No cameras. You are not allowed to take pictures of these designs. I’m sorry, but please take that camera out of your hand,’ the assistant almost shouted.

  Blushing, Jill put the banned camera down.

  ‘You look gorgeous,’ Kate congratulated Ali. ‘Robin will die when he sees you walking up the aisle!’

  Ali tried the four dresses on, all variations on the first. They all looked amazing, so pretty, but none of them compared to the first, so Ali tried it on again. The sales assistant passed her shoes and a bracelet, and attached a small veil to her hair.

  ‘No one ever forgets the first dress they try on. Some people could try on hundreds of dresses, but will come back to the first one. Something about seeing yourself in a wedding dress for the first time makes you love that moment – and that dress – for ever.’

  As Ali sized up how she looked, she could really see the wedding happening: she could imagine walking up the aisle; her father passing her to Robin, and all the love, fun and excitement that would follow. She could not wait for the big day.

  As she showed the dress to her mum and sisters again, she could see Jill pretending to text someone on her phone while really trying to take a photo with her camera phone.

  ‘You look like an angel, honey, so beautiful. But sure, you would be beautiful in a sack.’

  ‘I would love to see you walking up the aisle in a sack,’ laughed Kate. ‘Let’s go and get some Coca-Cola, it’s roasting in here and you are taking ages.’

  Ages? Ali thought. She had only tried on four wedding dresses, and had maybe hundreds more to try on. She knew her sisters were not going to have the stamina and patience for this.

  ‘We will meet you two useless lumps outside, leave myself and Ali alone,’ her mother said, as she shooed the girls out the door. ‘Ali, is this the one you like? We could get it. It is perfect, wait until your father and Robin see you in it.’