All Dressed Up

by Lucy Hepburn

  “You must come inside! You are welcome!”

  Swift exchanges of looks between Pascal, Simon, and Molly confirmed that they were all thinking the same thing. There wasn’t really all that much time to spare.

  “Thank you but no,” Simon replied. “We need to get—”

  “Opa! Opa!”

  The little girl rushed out and threw herself into her grandfather’s arms. Julien, delighted, kissed the top of her head, murmured something in her ear, and turned toward them.

  “This is Gabriella, my grand-daughter, and today is her seventh birthday!”

  “What a beautiful girl!” Molly cried, guessing that was exactly what Julien wanted to hear, though it was perfectly true. The child was seriously cute. “Happy Birthday, Gabriella!”

  Gabriella buried her head in the side of her grandfather’s leg.

  “Please, come in!” Julien insisted. “At least have some cake with us!”

  Molly could feel Simon and Pascal tense. She decided to take positive action. Jumping out of the van, she walked over to him. “Thank you, Julien, but we wouldn’t dream of it. Why don’t you go inside and be with your family, and perhaps you would be kind enough to give us the number of a taxi? We will get out of your way…”

  Julien banged his head with his hand before she had finished speaking. “You are in a hurry, I should not have asked. Let me just give Gabriella her gift, and then I will take you straight on to the station.”

  “I don’t want you to miss the party,” Molly insisted.

  “But I will return straight away; it’s no distance. Let me do this small kindness for you.”

  Molly’s mother had said something to her once, which had stayed in her memory: sometimes you have to allow people to be kind to you. She’d been talking about a similar incident one December when Molly was little, where a lady from their village had presented her with a homemade Christmas cake. Molly’s mum had been finding things stressful—it was not long after her father’s affair—and the lady tried to pass off her kindness with an airy, ‘oh, I always make a spare!’ None of the Wright women had ever forgotten.

  “Well, we are very grateful,” she assured him. “Thank you very much.”

  She climbed back into the van while Julien fetched his granddaughter’s present from the back and carried it into the house. Molly could hear squeals of delight from the little girl and gasps of happy laughter from the adults.

  “Is anyone else finding this a little awkward?” Simon asked.

  “A little?” Pascal echoed. “We should not be here. This is not how we travel to weddings in Paris.”

  But almost immediately the door opened again and a smiling Julien emerged, calling out to his family indoors that he would be back soon. He climbed back into the van and started the engine.

  “I really wish you’d stay with them,” Molly said one last time.

  He shook his head. “No, no! It is only twenty minutes to the station. I will be back very soon.”

  “But…”

  “Although when I was a little boy there were no teddy bears as big as the one which she is about to unwrap!” He patted Molly’s arm. “I shall return straight away when she is ready to bring it down to show everybody. Please do not worry about me; I am having a very good day.”

  Molly thought once more about the lady and her ‘spare’ Christmas cake, thanked Julien yet again, and then allowed herself to relax a little as the van pulled back out onto the road and began winding its way toward the railway station. She would find a way of repaying his kindness one day.

  For now she was just happy they were on their way!

  Chapter Twelve

  Hours until wedding: 26

  Kilometers to wedding: 393

  “Is it nice living here?” she asked Julien as she surveyed the towering mountains on either side. “Don’t you feel that the hills are looking over you?”

  He smiled. “A lot of visitors say that. But if you, like I, have lived in the embrace of the Alps all of your life, then anything else seems a little…less than what we have, do you understand?”

  Molly thought back to the rolling, greenness of her Yorkshire home. For her, nothing was more wonderful than the rural openness of the farmland which lay all around her house. For her, despite her dreams of a career in Paris, nothing would ever truly compare.

  “I do,” she said after a pause. “It is your home. Where the heart is. I mean, Caitlin and I argued loads when we were little, but still there’s something magical about the word, isn’t there? Home—it even sounds cozy!”

  They journeyed on in silence for a while until Simon said, “You are lucky to know what ‘home’ is.” And brought her happy mood down with a bump.

  She looked at him.

  “I’ve had fourteen different places to call ‘home’ in my lifetime,” he continued. “And none of them has been a perfect fit.”

  “Why so?” Pascal enquired.

  “My dad was a musician. He’d go where the work was. And we just followed.”

  “How romantic!” Molly sighed thinking about her insurance-broker dad and their terraced cottage.

  He smiled back ruefully. “It was until he shifted his romantic tendencies onto a little clarinet player from Bristol and left mum to bring up my brother and me on her own.”

  “That’s rough,” Molly said with feeling. “Poor you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Happened to us too,” she said.

  Simon looked at her, and they smiled shyly at one another.

  Nobody spoke for a few minutes until Molly saw the sign for the train station. She could read the words, but the painted train was a dead giveaway. “We’re here!” Molly cried. She felt so relieved.

  Julien indicated to the right and turned his van into the entrance of the train station. He parked right outside and turned to her. “Now, you will wish your sister all the happiness in the world from Julien, if you please?”

  Molly kissed the old man’s cheek as Pascal and Simon unloaded their bags and the impressive cardboard box containing the wedding dress.

  “I will,” Molly grinned. “And will you wish Gabriella a very happy birthday from the three strange people who took her grandfather away from her?”

  “Nonsense!” Julien laughed. “I am just going to put some gasoline in the van and then I will be back with her.”

  “May we give you money for that?” Molly asked.

  “Of course not,” Julien assured her. “It was not far, and it was my pleasure.”

  Molly was sad to say goodbye to the old man.

  “It’s not often you come across real kindness like that, is it?” she said as they watched him drive away. “You know, with no expectation of anything in return.”

  “I will send him a note,” Pascal muttered. “Perhaps a discount voucher, also. For next season’s cruise collection.”

  Molly and Simon stopped walking and looked at him.

  “Perhaps not?” Pascal looked surprised as Molly and Simon shook their heads. “Just flowers, then. Everybody loves flowers! I shall send them to the post office. Or at least I shall ask Annabelle to do it for me.”

  “Guess it’s the thought that counts,” Simon whispered in Molly’s ear. She giggled. Now they were on there way, Simon wasn’t as bad as she thought he was a few hours ago.

  They walked into the station. It wasn’t very big—a few convenience stores around the side and a place to get coffee. But more importantly, there were trains. Molly looked up at the Information Board, and checked her watch.

  “Two hours to spare before the Venice train. Hurray!” Molly felt her shoulders relax. Finally, they had made it! She blew a kiss up at the information board. Up until this moment, the journey had seemed so surreal, but seeing ‘Venice’ illuminated in little yellow lights made her want to dance with joy.

  They found a table and chairs in a warm part of the station concourse.

  “I’ll go get th
e tickets,” Simon said.

  Molly delved into her bag for her purse.

  “Don’t worry, you can settle up when I get back. I’ve no idea how much they’re going to cost.”

  “Thank you,” Molly smiled as he bounded off across the concourse to join the ticket queue.

  “I’ll ring Caitlin and tell her everything,” Molly said to Pascal. “Now that it really seems like we might actually make it to the wedding—she’ll be climbing the walls wondering what’s happened to us.”

  “She will not believe you if you tell her everything,” Pascal said dryly. “Send her big love from me.”

  Molly found her phone in her bag and called Caitlin. She answered almost immediately.

  “Molly?” she said. “You here yet?”

  “Almost!” Molly trilled. “Be with you very soon. How are you?”

  “Oh, you know. Getting married in the morning. No dress to wear, no idea where it is. I’m just great, thanks.”

  Molly smiled down at the box at her feet.

  “Don’t worry, the dress is on its way. We’re just a train ride away now.”

  She heard Caitlin’s sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “Thank goodness for that. You haven’t had any more trouble, have you? Got arrested again? Extradited for acts of terrorism?”

  Molly decided not to say anything about the skidoo ride down the mountain and the piles of cow dung.

  “Been a bit eventful, but we’re all sorted now,” she said instead. “Can’t wait to see you.”

  “Just wait till you see the dress!” Caitlin gushed. Then darkly, “Have you looked at it?”

  “I’m desperate to, but no I haven’t,” Molly replied truthfully. “Pascal won’t let me.”

  “It’s soooo special,” Caitlin gushed. “And you know what? This awful delay’s just making me long for it even more—I can’t believe it’s mine!”

  “I’ll tell Pascal.” She turned to him. “Caitlin is so excited about the dress.”

  “Big love. Big, big love to her,” Pascal oozed, a trace of his Parisian élan returning.

  “Urm, big love to you from him, obviously,” Molly mumbled.

  “Big love back!” Caitlin twittered.

  “Big love back,” Molly deadpanned to Pascal, who adopted an expression of bliss that almost looked genuine.

  “I’ll phone as soon as we get in,” Molly went on.

  “Listen, Molly, I’m sorry I had a go at you yesterday. It wasn’t nice of me. I was…nervous. This whole wedding thing…”

  “It’s fine,” Molly murmured, surprising herself by realizing she meant it. “I’ll ring as soon as we hit Venice, okay? And hey, you’re getting married tomorrow—woot woot!”

  “Woot indeed!” Caitlin squeaked. “See you then!”

  Molly hung up with a smile and closed her eyes. It was all going to be okay.

  “Not long now,” Pascal said. “I would like a hot bath and a cold cocktail.”

  “You’ve been so quiet today,” Molly said, looking at his face which had returned to being downcast. “It’s been strange, hasn’t it?”

  Pascal nodded sadly. “I am sorry. I have no skills in places like this. I can only watch, helpless, as Simon is the big hero on the skidoo.”

  “Oh, come now!” Molly put her arm around his shoulder. “Simon obviously loves that sort of thing—it’s not your comfort zone, and nor is it mine. I’d rather be in a bath with a cocktail too.”

  “Excuse me?”

  They turned around to see Simon standing behind them holding their train tickets.

  “Baths and cocktails aren’t exactly off my radar.”

  Molly was mortified. “Oh, Simon, I’m so sorry if that hurt your feelings.”

  “She was trying to make me feel better because I am no use to anyone out of doors,” Pascal put in.

  Simon shrugged and sat down. “Oh, forget it. We’ve all had a bit of a day.”

  He handed them their tickets. Molly, feeling chided and mean, tried to think of something kind to say.

  “You did a really good job today, Simon. Thank you. We wouldn’t have got this far without you. And…and I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about the dress.”

  “Forget it. It’s over now.” He looked at her and smiled then motioned down to the box. “You must be desperate to have a look.”

  “Oh, you’ve no idea,” Molly breathed. She looked around the station. It seemed clean enough. Biting her lip, she caught Pascal’s eye. He smiled, and nodded.

  “I won’t tell,” he said.

  “We can make sure it doesn’t touch the floor, can’t we?” she asked, slyly.

  “Of course we can,” Pascal smiled. “Go on, you have waited long enough.”

  Molly fell upon the post office box that Julien had packed it in, pulling away the protective seal and prising the lid gently upwards.

  Molly was tingling with excitement. “It should still be in the dress cover…oh!”

  Pascal raised the lid fully, and they all looked inside the box. A furry smiling face stared up at them.

  “Merde.”

  The teddy bear which Julien had bought for Gabriella was, indeed, very large. So large, in fact, that it had been packaged in an identical box to the one Julien had used to protect Caitlin’s dress.

  “Mon Dieu,” Pascal whispered, fanning his face with his train ticket.

  “Tell me that isn’t what I think it is.” Molly wondered for a moment whether it might be simpler to just fall to the ground and pretend to be in a coma for about three days.

  “My gown,” Pascal whimpered letting the box lid hit the floor and stumbling into a chair. “My beautiful gown!”

  “He must have given Caitlin’s dress to Gabriella!” Molly squealed. “This is a disaster!”

  “Wait,” Simon had stood up and was gesturing toward the exit. “Didn’t he say he was going for fuel? We might catch him—maybe it’s still in his van!”

  “Guard the stuff!” Molly shrieked to Pascal as Simon caught her hand and, together they made for the exit at a run. The security guard gave them only the briefest of glances and left them to it—perhaps young couples ran shrieking from his building every day of the week.

  Outside, they were stopped in their tracks by the blast of icy Alpine air as they frantically scanned their surroundings.

  “There!” Simon shouted. “Isn’t that him?”

  Sure enough, Molly looked to where he was pointing—a petrol station just off to their right. Julien’s van was just pulling away from one of the pumps.

  “Julien!” Molly shouted, but her voice was carried away by the wind and the traffic.

  Panic seemed to lend wings to her feet, and dropping Simon’s hand she began to sprint toward the vehicle.

  “Be careful!” Simon called out, but she ignored him. Luckily, Julien indicated in their direction and was approaching.

  “He’s coming!” Molly waved her arms frantically, but somehow he didn’t see her.

  “Stop!” She shrieked again, stepping blindly into the road into the path of the van.

  “Molly!” Simon yelled.

  Julien had to brake hard. Molly, huge-eyed and frozen to the spot, held up her hands in a useless attempt to protect herself as the car screeched toward her.

  Five more meters and Molly would have gone flying over the bonnet. But Julien had stopped. His face was ashen as he got out and rushed over to her, reaching her at the same time as Simon.

  Molly stumbled; her legs had turned to jelly. “I’m…I’m so sorry,” she gasped feeling very English and polite all of a sudden in the middle of her terror. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright but…”

  “Are you all right?” Julien asked.

  “I’m fine,” she reassured him, though her trembling body told a different story.

  “I thought you’d…” shock was written all over Simon’s face. He took a step backwards, his hand on his forehead.

 
; But by now, Molly was more concerned about Julien. “We’ve got Gabriella’s teddy bear!”

  “What?” Julien looked mystified.

  “You must have given her my sister’s wedding dress by accident!”

  Five minutes later Molly, Pascal, Simon, all of their bags, and a giant teddy bear were back in Julien’s van speeding back to Gabriella’s house.

  Julien spent the entire journey apologizing for his carelessness, with Molly reassuring him that there was probably no harm done. But her heart was pounding. What if something happened to the dress? But surely, she reasoned with herself, once Gabriella’s parents saw what was inside the box they would realize there had been a mistake?

  At last, they pulled up outside Julien’s family’s house for a second time. Molly’s head was spinning. They were actually going in reverse—literally back to where they were an hour ago. They’d never get to Venice at this rate. She was gutted not to see Gabriella’s mother immediately appear at the door carrying an unopened large postal box.

  “Please, all of you, come inside,” Julien said. “We’ll correct this.”

  He lifted the teddy bear box from the back, and the four of them approached the front door in silence.

  The door was opened by Gabriella’s mother. She beamed at them all and hugged her father tightly, then turned to Molly.

  “I’m Elizabeth, Julien’s daughter-in-law.”

  “Hello,” said Molly, shaking her hand. “You don’t sound very Italian to me.”

  “I’m from Kent,” Elizabeth explained. “Did Papa not say?” She rolled her eyes. “He forgets! Come in. Have you come to see the young vision?”

  “Sorry?” said Molly, but her heart was sinking.

  She turned to Julien. “She adores her present! You really are too kind!”

  Molly’s head began to pound. Had she heard correctly?

  “No, no!” Julien took a step backwards. “There has been a mistake!”

  Elizabeth looked confused for a moment. Molly’s mind was racing. Just so long as she hasn’t taken it out of the box, maybe this would still be okay…

  “What sort of mistake?” Elizabeth asked brightly, leading them into the living room.