Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,108
lets out a cry of protest. ‘Shit, Pixie, why not spill all my secrets?’
Even though I love the way she’s winding him up, I’m hurrying this on before it turns into a full-blown family barney. ‘Nic may have said—’ it doesn’t sound like he’s been holding back on the information exchange ‘—I thought a quick a chat about the dress might be useful before he goes shopping?’
Pixie’s shaking her head. ‘He hasn’t told you, has he? I’m avoiding the obvious clichés. A friend is lending me a navy satin dress she wore for her prom.’
I’m stifling my surprise for so many reasons – that it’s sorted at all when I’d expected it to be outstanding, but most of all the colour. ‘Brill. That covers your borrowed and your blue then.’
She pulls a face. ‘It’s a lovely dark indigo, perfect for me to blend into the background.’
I’m letting out a silent phew that it fits with the Seashore Castle Rainbow Garden plans. ‘And are you having … ahem—’ I’m finding a way to say bridesmaids that won’t put the wind up this very uncertain bride. ‘—close girlfriends in coordinated outfits?’
Her face splits into a smile. ‘I seriously doubt it. Ordering them around the basketball court is one thing, telling them what to wear is something else entirely.’
Lucky for me we’ve got the word rainbow in the theme then. ‘So you won’t need to come to the shop then?’
‘Which shop is that?’
I think how best to put it. ‘It’s near the beach, it sells clothes and – er – other items for people in your position.’
Pixie sounds intrigued. ‘What, wheelchair users … or sailors?’
Nic lets out a sigh. ‘No numbskull. Milla’s talking about Brides by the Sea. It’s a wedding shop, for people getting married. Obviously not anywhere you’ll be visiting any time soon.’
Pixie’s enjoying his frustration. ‘Oh, right. So what does that sell, then?’
Nic looks at me. ‘She’s a total wedding virgin. She knows even less than I did when I started.’
Pixie gives him an indulgent smile. ‘Listen to you – how hilarious is my big brother the wedding expert!’
I bite back my smile at the double act and give her a short version. ‘The shop has wedding dresses, obviously, but you don’t need them, bridesmaids’ stuff, you don’t need that. Nic’s sorted the styling and I take it the guys have chosen their suits. Flowers are already sorted.’
Pixie stiffens. ‘Flowers! Where the hell are they for?’
Nic sighs. ‘No need to flip out, they’re mostly for the tables and the window sills.’
Pixie’s eyes are like saucers. ‘We’re having tables?’
Nic’s lips are twisting. ‘To rest your drinks on. That’s okay isn’t it?’
Pixie laughs nervously. ‘Yeah, I s’pose.’
Nic pulls a face at me. ‘You have no idea how hard she’s making this.’
I’m aiming to say the least possible and get the hell off the phone before I make it any worse. ‘Other than that, probably just hair slides. Oh, and shoes.’
‘Shoes?’ She’s leaning into the screen. ‘What kind of shoes?’
‘The usual.’ I’m thinking of the glass cabinet in the White Room. ‘With ankle straps, labels, sparkly bits. And wellies for meadows.’ That just about covers it.
‘Labels? In St Aidan? Which labels?’ She’s suddenly concentrating. ‘Don’t stop!’
I’m reeling them off. ‘Rachel Simpson, Manolo thingy, Alexander McQueen, Gucci, Louboutin, Dior, Jimmy whatsit …’
Pixie’s face is so close to the screen she’s practically bursting out of Nic’s phone. ‘You have Jimmy Choos?’
Nic’s laughing. ‘Well done for finding Pixie’s Achilles’ heel, Milla. She must be the only sailor I know to have more cupboards full of shoes than ocean-going kit. How many pairs have you got now?’
She gives him a dead eye. ‘I don’t ask you how many boats you own, or how many staff you have on your books.’
His whoop is gleeful. ‘Enough to have taken over an entire spare room from Ewan.’
She sniffs. ‘My legs don’t work, but I still have feet. Shoes are essential.’
‘Great reasoning.’ I shrug. ‘Not that you ever need an excuse for another pair.’
‘Exactly, Milla.’ Pixie wheels herself backwards and grins. ‘Well, some of us have work to do. If that’s everything, I’ll let you two bunnies get on with your evening.’
Nic holds up his jam jar. ‘We’re doing a hard night of cocktail selecting.’
‘My heart bleeds for you.’ Pixie lets out a throaty laugh. ‘Don’t let him give you a hard time, Milla. He’s very well trained, find the right commands and he’s like a lamb.’
Nic shouts. ‘Stop shattering my manly image.’
Pixie’s looking gleeful. ‘Okay, make safe choices, see you