bet her glass slippers were more comfortable.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘You look ridiculously beautiful. Truly. That’s why I can hardly speak. You look… perfect.’
I blushed, obviously. ‘Thanks.’ Then I angled my shoulder at him. ‘Actually, could you do me up?’
‘Course.’ The shop felt very quiet as he stepped around me and I flinched at the sensation of his fingers on my lower back.
‘You all right?’
‘Yep,’ I squeaked, staring at an old tea stain on a patch of carpet in front of me. Concentrate on the tea stain, Florence, do not dwell on the fact you can feel Zach’s breath on your neck.
‘What’s the occasion?’ he asked, as he started tugging the zip upwards.
I twisted my head to answer.
‘Stand still please, Cinders,’ he said, nudging my shoulder forwards with his hand.
‘Sorry. And don’t laugh but it’s a Conservative party.’
He didn’t reply.
‘Zach?’
‘You said don’t laugh so I am maintaining a diplomatic silence,’ he said, as I felt his fingers reach the nape of my neck. ‘There, you’re done.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, turning round to smile at him, and then, because I couldn’t help it, ‘Why are you still here, anyway? Aren’t you seeing Ruby?’
He looked surprised. ‘Er, yeah. Yeah I am but not until seven, so I’m just finishing off a few bits and pieces.’
I nodded but felt embarrassed at having pried, so I picked up my skirt and made for the stairs.
‘Florence,’ he shouted, when I was halfway up and already cursing the shoes. I felt like a stilt man about to make his entrance at the circus.
‘Mmm?’ I said, pausing to glance back at him. It was just one word, my name, but he’d sounded strangely solemn.
‘Have a good time. And I mean it. You look, no, I mean you are very beautiful. A modern-day Helen of Troy.’
I frowned. ‘Which one was she?’
‘The one they fought over, the Trojans and the Greeks, because she was supposedly the most beautiful woman in the world.’
‘All right, let’s not go overboard,’ I said, rolling my eyes. ‘But thanks. And you too. Have a good night, I mean.’ Then I turned back and stomped up the stairs because this situation was awkward and I needed to get my Uber.
I played a quick round of Consequences while the Uber dawdled at a set of lights. If they went green in the next ten seconds, I wouldn’t fall from my heels, say anything embarrassing in front of Rory’s colleagues or go to the loo to see my lipstick had run down my chin and I looked like I’d had a bloody session at the dentist.
Two, four, six… The lights changed at eight seconds and I felt a sense of relief as the Uber moved again. I looked at my phone. Rory was waiting outside the marquee. The thought of him, my boyfriend, in black tie and taking me to a party like this made me shake my head in wonder. It sure beat my usual Friday night: a bowl of pasta on the sofa, Marmalade draped over my stomach like a draught excluder.
I spotted Rory before the car stopped. Light blazed out from the marquee entrance, illuminating him in the dark. His hair was slicked in a side parting, his jacket was perfectly cut across his shoulders and his shoes shone like soldier’s boots. Standing there, nodding at people as they passed, he looked like Jay Gatsby welcoming people to his party.
I opened the car door and stepped out carefully. This was my grand entrance; I mustn’t trip, stumble or drop my bag. Rory bounded forward as soon as he saw me and I bit my lip, hoping for that approving gasp.
‘It’s red!’ he said, his eyes spherical with alarm.
‘What?’
‘Your dress, it’s red.’
I looked down and smoothed the velvet over my stomach. ‘Yes. Is that… bad?’
‘Florence, it’s called the Black and White Ball! Look!’ He swung a hand around him as other couples walked past and I felt all my jittery excitement about the party turn to dust. Every other woman was wearing black. Black sequins, black silk, black velvet, black fur coats in several cases. But no red.
‘I didn’t realize, I didn’t think. Sorry, Rory, I just…’
‘It’s too late now. Let’s go in,’ he said, putting a hand underneath my elbow and pulling me towards the light. ‘Come on, we need to meet everyone.’
‘No kiss?’ I asked, blinking quickly to discourage tears. He sounded so cold, so cross, and all I’d wanted to do was impress him.
Rory turned to face me and rotated his fingers