Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,44
ice cubes to suck, mint tea, ginger thins – you name it, I tried it. And thanks to looking after my mum for all those years, mostly I was successful. So long as I could keep her as close to normal as possible, until she started to show it gave me another few months to get my head around it all.
Cally gives a shudder. ‘All I can eat so far is chocolate cake which is why I’ve piled on the pounds.’
‘So you mentioned you’d like me to carry your tissues on Saturday?’
Her grin is rueful. ‘There’s a Gucci bag over there full of my favourite snacks. Can you carry that too?’
‘Of course.’ So much for thinking this was going to be straight forward. But if anyone needs a wingman, it’s Cally. She’s one of those women who are so open and honest and lovely, she deserves a perfect day.
Sera’s looking over to me. ‘Your dress is waiting over there, Milla.’
Cally pulls a face. ‘Fingers crossed yours fits better than mine.’
I’m puzzled by the floor length cover on the rail, because Cally mentioned cocktail length. ‘I was expecting a short one?’
Cally wrinkles her nose again. ‘Me too. Then Sera showed me a full-length dark champagne satin with over layers of burnished gold lace and tulle in your size and I couldn’t resist.’ She sends me an anxious smile. ‘So long as you don’t mind an upgrade to official bridesmaid?’
It’s more the leap to what sounds like a Cinderella ball dress I’m surprised at, but I can’t say that. Sera’s dresses are amazing, but ballgowns aren’t exactly my thing. ‘Whatever works for you.’ So long as I can wear my control pants, I don’t give a damn, and at least I’m being paid.
Sera laughs. ‘Have a look and try it on. Then we’ll pop Cally’s next layer over.’
‘Great.’ I’m almost at the hanging rail when Cally recalls the last of the details. ‘And the taxi will be here to pick you up at seven-thirty sharp on Saturday morning.’
I let out a squeak. ‘That early?’
‘The ceremony is at twelve, we don’t want to be rushed. You have a suite booked to stay over at the hotel. And I’ll email you the final order of the day, so you know what’s coming.’
‘Lovely.’ My stomach is clenching with each new piece of information. I should be used to dawn starts, we’re always doing them with the wedding fairs.
She’s still going. ‘Oh, and I can’t drink, but no one can know. So if you could help out with that too?’
First hauling round industrial quantities of biscuits, now tipping champers on the pot plants. ‘Whatever it takes, I’ll sort it.’
As I reach to unzip the dress cover, I’m bracing myself for the worst. If I end up looking glitzier than a chandelier, at least it’s only for a day.
Chapter 12
Saturday, two days later.
The attic at Brides by the Sea.
Another unhappy landing.
I was kidding myself about the daybreak starts. However much I’m used to them, waking early enough to be ready and down on the street for seven-thirty means getting up in the middle of the night and is every bit as agonising as it sounds. Just saying. In case anyone thought this was easy money. Three large mugs of coffee, four croissants and a shower later, I’m just beginning to wake up.
As for the bridesmaid’s dress, I’m reminded of my mum’s favourite saying – there’s always a bright side, the trick is to find it. Except I didn’t have to look hard to find it this time. Far from being the bridesmaid’s outfit from hell, the dress nestling in Cally’s bag was pretty enough for a princess. Better still, there’s something about the lightness of the lace and the folds of the satin slip that makes me look as if I’m barely there – so that’s not just any old princess, it’s a princess three sizes smaller than me!
The gold high-heeled sandals and fake fur stole are also lovely, but with so much fab stuff there’s bound to be a downside. The first catch is that the dipping neckline at the back of the dress means my knee-to-boob control pants are definitely out, and I end up in a more minor pair, doubled over so they end on my hip bone. Catch two is that the dress would be perfect for someone without boobs, but on me it’s a lot more ‘chesty’ than I’d choose for myself.
But let’s keep this real. The guests are Nigel’s parents’ friends