by Jane Linfoot
Jess carries on. ‘Poppy’s told us about your … ahem …’ Jess pauses as she searches to find a suitable word. ‘Difficulties,’ she says at last.
Difficulties is putting it mildly. To bring you up to speed, Cate and Liam’s massive argument was followed by an equally massive wedding cull. They cancelled all but one marquee, they’ve shrunk the flower order, lost the fairground, the cinema and the zoo. But the invitations had already gone out, and their numbers are huge, so the catering budget is monstrous. And as Cate still has to buy dresses for herself and the bridesmaids, the final overspend hasn’t yet been calculated.
Jess winces at the thought of the problems, and carries on. ‘Because of your popularity as a bride Cate, Sera and I have a proposition. We’re suggesting we provide you with a wedding dress and bridesmaid dresses from Sera’s Country Collection for next year. And in return you could give us your real life wedding pictures, as taken by Jules, to use in our publicity. How does that sound?’
‘Oh my … thank you so much …’ Cate puts her drink down, sits back on the sofa and flaps her hands in front of her face. ‘That s-ounds …’ She stops and dabs a tissue to her eye. ‘Amazing … I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you …’
‘It’s quite simple.’ Jess cuts in brusquely, businesslike to the end. ‘You’ll be repaying us in full by giving us your pictures to use.’ She pulls the ends of her mouth down. ‘But being a realistic bridal shop owner, I know you might not find anything in the collection you want to wear. So let’s try on some dresses.’
Cate laughs. ‘If they’re anything like the one I wore for the shoot, I’ll love them. I felt truly beautiful that day.’ She gives a sigh. ‘It’s a shame I can’t wear that one, but everyone’s seen it now.’
Jess moves across to the rail of wedding dresses. ‘There are several to try, and selfishly I’m starting with the one that will look best on the pictures.’ You have to love Jess for her honesty. ‘This one has the nipped in waist that suits you so much.’ She takes the first dress of the rail and leads the way to the changing room. ‘Ready Cate?’
As Jess draws the curtain across the fitting area which spans the room, Immie and I settle back into the cushions to wait.
‘Bloody hell, lucky or what?’ Immie says, smacking her lips as she knocks back her cocktail, and helps herself to a refill from the tall jug on the drinks tray.
‘Mutually beneficial is how I’d put it,’ I say. There’s no such thing as a free lunch with Jess. And using a real live wedding for publicity shots is very original, and very ‘now’, and will get Sera’s collection even more attention. It’s also very in tune with the country wedding theme, which is why Jess wants Cate to have a dress from that collection. But you’d need a special bride to agree. And Cate is unique, not only because she knows Jules and Jess well enough to be comfortable with this, but also because she’ll get the dresses for nothing when she’s so desperately short of cash.
As Jess pulls back the curtain, Immie and I wriggle forwards to get a better view.
Cate swishes across the floor, and comes to a halt in front of us. ‘So what do you think,’ she says. ‘And remember I want the truth this time,’ she adds, but she can’t hold her stern frown for long, because she’s smiling so hard.
My nose begins to ache, and I scratch the dampness away from my bottom lashes. All I want to do is hug her, because she looks so lovely, and even better, so happy. But I can’t risk getting running mascara all over the lace. I hear a loud sniff from Immie, and when she blows her nose, it’s with the force of a gale. And then she sniffs again.
‘So?’ Cate laughs.
‘Gorgeous,’ I say. ‘We’re both in pieces here. What do you think?’ I don’t really have to ask, because her face says it all.
‘I’m not sure I even want to try the others,’ Cate says. ‘I already know this is the one, because I cried in the fitting room as soon as I put it on.’
‘So that’s why you were so long.’ Immie jokes. ‘Any longer, I’d have been under the table.’
Cate stops by the full length mirror, and studies herself. ‘I love the way the skirt’s plain tulle, and yet the top’s so pretty. And it’s got those same really light sleeves as the other one.’ She grins at Jess. ‘Perfect for a September wedding, like you said the day of the shoot.’
Jess is watching from the other side of the shop, her lips in that pout she does when she’s exceptionally satisfied. ‘The others are here on the rail, if you want to flick through.’
Cate glides across the shop, holding the softly gathered skirt, and she and Jess examine the dresses. One by one Cate rejects them with a shake of her head, and then she turns to us.
‘I can’t believe it, I’ve found my dress. This is the one. How good is that?’
Immie lets out a low laugh. ‘All in ten minutes flat, in less time than it took me to drink three cocktails. That’s my kind of shopping.’
I decide not to point out that she’s had way more than three, and instead I grab my phone and stagger to my feet. ‘Shall we do a selfie to celebrate?’
‘Great idea,’ Cate cries, rushing over.
Jess picks up the cocktail jug. ‘Then we’ll have another drink and I’ll call Sera down so we can sort the bridesmaids’ dresses.’
39
At Brides by the Sea: My little pony and other stories
Choosing bridesmaids’ dresses has a whole different feel this time around. With the new agreement with Cate underway, Jess is in total charge. Cate, Immie and I are back in a no-nonsense line on the sofa, sipping our refills, while Jess sorts the final details.
‘Come on, Sera,’ she says firmly, ‘no hiding in the kitchen.’
Sera peeps around the corner at us, wrinkling her face. We wave at her as she sidles into view, thumbs shoved through the belt of her ripped denim shorts.
Cate widens her eyes at Sera’s honey coloured legs. ‘Is that tan real?’
‘Yep,’ Sera grins.
‘Sera does all her design sketching on the beach,’ I explain. ‘Hence the sun burn on her nose and her knees.’ It’s hard to put into context the way Sera manages to avoid every box Jess tries to cram her into.
Sera tugs at a knot in her bleached blonde hair. ‘I work best when I can smell the sea and hear the waves breaking on the beach.’ She gives an apologetic shrug. ‘Although I did go and sit in a meadow to work on my country designs.’
Despite years of effort, Jess has failed to tame Sera, and persuade her to work in the studio. She also shies away from dealing with clients, although she has consented to come down for the bridesmaids’ part of this deal.
‘So tell them about your bridesmaid designs, Sera,’ Jess prompts.
Sera leans a shoulder against the wall, and hooks that telltale foot behind her leg. ‘They’re meant to have the same country feel as the bridal dresses. They’re simple cotton, in different vintage styles, a range of plain and prints, designed to mix and match.’
As Jess wheels in a rail of brightly coloured dresses, I sense Cate’s murmur of approval on one side of me, and Immie’s slightly less enthusiastic grunt on the other.
‘A bride chooses the prints and the styles, and then we’ll have the dresses made up.’ Jess says, as she plucks a red polka dot dress, and holds it next to a floral print one in pinks and reds.
‘Yes!’ Cate shouts.
She jumps up with a lurch that leaves Immie gawping at the splashes of English Garden she’s spilled all over her jeans.
‘The flowery fabric is just what I’d envisaged.’ She takes hold of the pink and red one. ‘That style. All the same. Short not long.’ She looks almost as startled as we are at her decisiveness. ‘It’s perfect for my berry palette.’
This is the first I’ve heard of berry on her mood board, but whatever. They’re a lot more ‘Immie’ than the nude chiffon Cate set her heart on last time we were here, which is something else we won’t be mentioning either.
‘Brill …’ Sera twiddles with the strap of he
r crocheted over-vest. ‘You can always add a petticoat, if you want something even more feminine.’
Immie hears the word petticoat and has an instant choking fit. I’m busy slapping her on the back when I notice Jess disappearing towards the shop door. As she opens it I hear a man’s voice, and a second later, Jess calls me.
‘Poppy …’ Sotto voce isn’t usually Jess’s thing, but for once she isn’t shouting at the top of her voice. ‘It’s Rafe, he wants a quick word.’
Rafe? His name makes my stomach do a triple flip, but only because this is so unexpected. You know the kind of thing I mean? Like when you were little and your mum turned up in school time, and the surprise took your breath away. Because apart from that one foray to Jaggers, which I try never to talk about, the only place I ever see Rafe is at the farm. That’s where he belongs. And him being anywhere else is plain-and-simple wrong. End of.
I slither to my feet, profoundly grateful that everyone is too busy to notice me tiptoeing away. As I reach the door Jess melts into the background, which believe me, is something she rarely does.
‘Hi,’ I say, willing my racing pulse to slow down, as I take in Rafe’s open necked shirt and navy chinos. At least there isn’t a farmer slogan to read today. ‘Anything I can help with?’ At the last minute I remember to add a shop girl smile.
‘Not so much,’ he says, holding something out to me. ‘Your sandwich box, you left it in the office.’
‘Thanks, I guess it’s obvious it was mine,’ I wince at the My Little Pony stickers, as I take the box from him, then decide not to be apologetic. ‘Actually I like the unicorn one best. Cate’s kids gave it to me for my birthday.’
Rafe’s bemused head shake reminds me I’m gabbling.
‘I was in town anyway,’ he says, ‘I thought you might need it.’
‘Thanks,’ I pop the box under my arm, ready to open the door to show him out. ‘That’s really thoughtful of you.’ In what universe can you not get by without a sandwich box?
He narrows his eyes, and his lips twist. ‘I’ll be honest, I was curious to see where you were too. It’s an amazing place isn’t it?’
‘Fabulous,’ I laugh, satisfied he’s admitted the interest. ‘For a guy who hates weddings as much as you do, I’d say it’s a nightmare shop.’
‘It’s pretty scary,’ he laughs, ‘especially all that screaming I can hear. Is someone murdering a bridesmaid?’
‘Brides rarely choose dresses quietly.’ I say, with a grin. ‘Cate and Immie are in there, whooping it up as we speak. Are you coming in?’ It’s more of a dare then an invitation.
‘You have to be joking,’ he says.
Of course I am. ‘Obviously.’ Why the hell did I think he might want to sit on a sofa with banshees in the first place?
‘I brought these too, I couldn’t find any My Little Pony paper, so I used the Cornish Guardian.’ He pushes a bundle of newspaper into my hands. ‘Roses, from the garden, mind the thorns.’
The scent is unmistakeable, and as I peer in at the blooms I can’t help smiling. ‘Albertine?’
‘Of course,’ he says, ‘they won’t last, but I thought you’d like them anyway.’ He makes a grab for the door latch. ‘I’ll let myself out, enjoy your party.’
As I hover by the door, watching him walk off and clutching my parcel, something inside me slowly deflates. Why would I be feeling disappointed? I make a detour to leave the roses and the sandwich box at the bottom of the stairs, then hurry back to the others.
‘Where did you disappear to?’ Cate asks. ‘We’re all sorted here, this has been the best hour ever.’ She’s back on the sofa, tapping furiously on her iPad. ‘The bridesmaids need to be measured, that’s all. And, thanks to today’s arrangement, and a lot of cutting back, current calculations show I’m only committed to spending five grand more on this wedding than we originally intended.’
‘Great,’ I say, unsure if this is good news or bad. As for how happy (or otherwise) Liam will be with this, who knows?
40
At Brides by the Sea: Filling up the diary
‘You have to admit, Rafe is wonderful groom material,’ Jess says, as she puts the bridesmaids’ dresses back onto the rail.
Luckily for me, when I come down to the shop again after putting my roses in water upstairs, I’m the only one left to hear this, so I pretend I haven’t.
‘He’s single, sexy, he’s got acres coming out of his ears,’ she goes on.
I had a horrible feeling she wouldn’t let this go.
‘Know anyone who wants a grumpy workaholic farmer who wouldn’t recognise fun if it hit him in the hay bales?’ I say, to put a stop to it.
She ignores my input entirely. ‘What’s more Rafe’s thoughtful enough to drive ten miles simply to return a forgotten sandwich box.’ Her voice soars loud enough for people in the street to hear. ‘You won’t get better than that Poppy Pickering.’
If Jess hadn’t just practically donated a wedding dress and eight bridesmaids’ dresses to my best friend, I’d definitely have told her to eff off. Especially as she said something similar about Jules not so long ago.
But it’s better not to fight Jess head on. ‘The timing’s not right,’ I say, making my voice flat enough to close this down. ‘Thanks for the heads up, but I’ll pass on this one, because actually, I’m fine as I am.’
Even as I add the afterthought, my jaw is dropping as I hear myself say the words. They may have slipped out inadvertently, but I think I just accidentally implied that I’m happy with how things are in my life. There was a time last winter when I doubted I’d ever be okay again, but somehow feeling better snuck up on me while I was looking the other way. These last few months I’ve been way too busy to dwell on how sad my life is, and now I come to think of it again, I’m not that broken person any more. Somewhere down the line, the fragments of my life have glued themselves back together again. Yes, the result is a completely different life, in new places, doing things I never imagined I was capable of. But to be honest, as I am now, with all the weddings, and making the cakes I love, and filling in at the shop which is super busy, I doubt I’d have time to fit in a boyfriend, even if I did want one.
Thinking back, going out with Brett was always pretty time consuming. When I first moved in with him, he was always the one who decided what we did. I went along with that, because I was the one who’d parachuted into his life. What’s more I’m not sure he’d have had it any other way. He was one of those guys who functioned best when he was in charge. Then as the years went by, and he got promotions at work, there were lots of functions where he needed a plus one. Admittedly the dresses I got to wear were great, but my main role was to smile and stay silent. Believe me, being bored out of my skull, whilst appearing to be totally engrossed, was something I nailed for Brett.
Then when he was away with work, which was more and more, I used to run around at home on his behalf. At the time, I didn’t think about it. It was natural for me to sort out his dry cleaning, take his car to be valeted after I’d run him to the airport, and buy him presents for his PA. There were hundreds of jobs that he was too busy to do, because his work was so important. But because I was ‘only making cakes’, as he always put it, everything else was down to me. On the rare occasions when we had free time together, he’d fill the diary months ahead with things he wanted to do, and I’d tag along. It was all down to him, because he was the important person, with the important job, and the important salary, and the important future. Looking back, I’m not sure I mattered at all.
At the time I assumed I was happy. I suppose having been brought up by my mum on her own after my dad died, getting my very own partner seemed like an important step towards creating the family unit I never had. Having my own guy was a way of providing security, not just for me, but for my mum too. And then there was everything else that came with Brett. I mean who wouldn’t be happy with floor to ceiling sea views, shiny cars, a walk in wardrobe, flowers for special days and jewellery for birthdays?
It took me years to work out the Interflora orders came automatically via a phone app. And when it was all taken away from me over night, I was so shocked, that I still didn’t stop to ask the question about whether that life was the one I wanted. As for how good it was, I’m beginning to wonder. Because I might be on my own now, but I’ve got time for my friends. I’m really busy, life’s full of things that I decide to do, and what’s more, I’m good. And I’m damned pleased it’s finally hit me.
‘Great to hear you’re happy as you are Poppy,’ Jess’s voice cuts through my pondering with the subtlety of someone wielding an axe. ‘But don’t come crying to me when someone else snaps Rafe up, because they will,’ She snaps that last bit with a certainty I’d rather not hear.
Now she’s brought it up, I hate the idea of Rafe getting snapped up. He’s perfectly fine as he is. It’s also highly unlikely he’d attract anyone, given he goes out of his way to be disagreeable at every turn, which seems to be a crucial factor Jess is overlooking here.
‘I’m glad we’re on own at last,’ she says, in a way that makes my heart sink. ‘I’ve been wanting a word all week.’
Shit. I’ve carefully avoided being alone with Jess since Josie’s wedding, and it’s only today’s excitement that’s made me drop my guard. She’s going to talk about my dress. I know it.
Making a big thing of picking up the shoes Cate borrowed, from the fitting room floor, I rack my brains for a distraction. This will have to be good.
‘Can you think of any other eligible guys in the area I could go out with then, Jess? Definitely not farmers though.’ It’s an attempt to divert her from where I know she’s hell bent on going. ‘Anyone single and sexy at Jaggers? The ones who you don’t want, obviously.’ Asking for introductions to Jess’s rejects is a measure of how desperate I am not to get onto Jess’s chosen subject.
Jess doesn’t falter. She completely bypasses the juicy decoy I’ve tossed her, sticks to her guns, and comes straight out with it. ‘You need to sell your wedding dress Poppy.’
