Below, the shop is buzzing. I’m in a hurry too, but before I open my mouth to say so, he’s already out of the door and bounding down the stairs. Hopefully to the other side of town. Or better still, a whole lot further.
As for me, I need to smooth out my skirt, paint on some eyebrows, then start hoping like hell that whatever request is coming my way, it’s something tiny that will be over very fast.
Chapter 5
Later the same Saturday.
The Style File, Brides by the Sea.
Special offers and discount codes.
‘Talk about a coup for our Special Request service, Milla! Even with the ten percent discount claim this one is huge!’
This is Jess a few minutes later. And as she marches me down the stairs and into the wonderful basement department known as The Style File, my stomach is quaking more with every exclamation.
I’ve lost count of the hours I’ve spent down here this last week. I’ve put my personal discomfort to one side and pointed my camera at everything from clusters of candles to flowers in pots, past vintage dressing tables reinvented as wedding cake stands and themed place settings, to light-up signs saying L-O-V-E. There’s so much bridal pretty crammed between the chalky lime-washed and bare brickwork walls my memory stick is bursting.
Jess steers me to a metal table by the big French doors and clinks down a bottle and three glasses. ‘No need to look so worried, Milla. Have a glass of fizz and relax.’
As we sit down in the warmth of a sun splash and I look past a tiny outside courtyard full of lanterns to a tiny patch of iron-grey sea beyond, I know it’ll take more than a few bubbles to calm me down.
‘A big job … in what way?’ In theory, I should be able to handle anything wedding-related, but there’s the pressure of doing it in a new setting. I’d assumed that being a bride’s right-hand woman was as big as the job was going to get. We’ve been emailing each other this week; Calista is super-friendly, extra pretty – judging by her Insta photos – and rocking the cool New Yorker thing, and the most she’s asked for so far is my dress size and that I carry her tissues for her.
It’s a measure of my state of high-alert and how anxious I am to make a good impression that I’m rubbing at a scuff on my kitten heels. Usually I wouldn’t give scruffy shoes a second thought, let alone try to hide them, but I’m desperate not to let Jess down here. And much as I’d rather not know the details of the upcoming job if it’s huge enough to put me outside my comfort zone, I’d rather find out the worst before the customer arrives.
When Jess lowers her voice so the others can’t hear, it’s breathy with excitement. ‘We have a very charming but clueless gentleman who’s wanting to put together his very own Don’t Tell the Bride! wedding.’ She pauses to pop the cork and passes me a full glass. ‘He needs you to hold his hand all the way from now until the big day in July.’
One partner taking sole charge may be great for shock-value TV, but in real life not so much. ‘It’ll be fine if he’s easy-going. If he’s in any way picky, early summer could prove pretty impossible.’
That’s the catch about the wedding world – the run-up times are traditionally very long because perfection can’t be hurried. Couples book venues as much as three years ahead and dresses are ordered in September for delivery the following spring. A fast-track wedding is fine for anyone happy to take what’s left over but you have to be prepared to compromise.
On the other hand, there can be advantages to fast-tracking. I can’t say I’d recommend the kind of endless engagement that Ben and I had, where years went by and he always found another excuse not to set a date. Looking back, I’m sure the only reason we bought the flat was so he had yet another reason to avoid the wedding.
‘Impossible’s not an attitude we ever have in this shop, Milla.’ Jess is snapping and wagging her finger, then she’s back to a purr. ‘It’s wonderful to have uptake for our Special Request service so soon. And better still, he’s willing to pay top money for a top job.’
‘It’s a big responsibility! I hadn’t planned on this length of commitment.’ The sound of my