Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fern glanced around. Rows of wedding dresses lined the walls, each shimmering beneath the glow of lavish chandeliers. Gossamer layers of lace and tulle cascaded from hangers, their delicate embroidery catching the light, whilst others were displayed on mannequins.
At the heart of the boutique, a velvet chaise longue sat beside a low table bearing crystal flutes of champagne, golden bubbles rising lazily to the surface.
The moment they stepped inside, a woman in a sleek black dress and pearl earrings spotted them.
Her eyes lit up with practised enthusiasm as she glided towards them, moving with the grace of someone who had spent years guiding nervous brides through the most significant decision of their lives.
‘Oh, congratulations!’ she gushed, clasping her hands together as she reached them. ‘You must be the couple who’ve just set the date! How exciting!’
Fern froze and Daniel grinned. Fern opened her mouth to correct the mistake, but Daniel spoke first, leaving her staring at him.
‘That’s us,’ he said smoothly, throwing an arm casually around Fern’s shoulder. ‘We couldn’t resist coming in to take a look, could we, babe?’
She glared. Did he actually just call her ‘babe’? He was enjoying this far too much. She could hear the amusement in his voice, feel the smug grin radiating from him as she turned back towards the woman. ‘Actually—’
‘We haven’t told many people yet,’ Daniel interrupted smoothly, squeezing her shoulder as if to silence any protest. ‘You know how it is. Best to keep things low-key until all the plans are finalised.’
The sales assistant practically beamed. ‘Oh, of course! You must be over the moon. And what a perfect time to start looking for the dress.’ She gestured grandly to the beautiful gowns. ‘I can already tell, you’ll be an absolute vision.’
Fern’s pulse quickened. This was spiralling out of control.
She opened her mouth to correct the misunderstanding, and this time she was faster than Daniel.
‘Actually, I’m so sorry,’ she interjected quickly, stepping slightly out of his grip.
‘My…’ She hesitated, struggling to find the right word. What exactly was Daniel to her?
Daniel raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, waiting for her answer.
‘Friend,’ she finally settled on. ‘My friend here is just having a joke with you. I can only apologise.’
The boutique assistant still looked perplexed, and, to be fair, Fern couldn’t blame her.
‘We’re not here about a wedding dress,’ she continued, then faltered. ‘Well … that’s not strictly true. But not one of yours. Actually, that’s not strictly true either.’ This was going well.
The woman’s confusion deepened.
Fern tried again. ‘A woman just walked in here. I think she accidentally took our suitcase off the train. The strange thing is, we were heading here, too.’
As if on cue, the woman in question emerged from a door at the back of the boutique.
‘That’s her,’ Fern said, relieved.
The assistant moved towards the woman, engaging her in a hushed conversation before both returned to Fern and Daniel. The woman glanced at the suitcase in their possession and her expression shifted.
‘Oh dear, I think you may be right,’ she said, looking genuinely apologetic. ‘That does look like my case. All black cases look so similar, don’t they? I’m terribly sorry, I took yours by mistake. I’ve just carried it upstairs. Let me go and get it.’
She turned to the assistant with a warm smile. ‘Do get them both a glass of something fizzy, would you?’
A moment later, Daniel looked like he was having the best time, sitting on a plush velvet couch with one hand holding a glass of fizz and the other placed on Fern’s knee. ‘Friends, now, are we?’ he leaned in and whispered.
‘You need to behave yourself. Are you incapable of being serious for five minutes?’
He took a slow sip of his champagne, eyes twinkling. ‘Not when it’s this much fun.’
It wasn’t long before the woman bustled back in, this time wheeling the case behind her. Her cheeks were flushed, and she offered a sheepish smile.
‘I’m so sorry about that,’ she said. ‘Totally my fault.’
‘That’s okay,’ replied Fern. ‘The bizarre thing is we were actually going to give the boutique a call tomorrow as we were hoping you might be able to help us with something,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘We’re looking for Eliza Valentine.’
The woman blinked in surprise, then let out a small laugh. ‘Well, you’ve come to the right place. I’m Eliza Valentine.’
Fern hesitated. That didn’t make sense. The woman before them couldn’t be her, or at least, not the Eliza Valentine they were looking for.
‘I think there must be a mistake,’ Fern said, shaking her head slightly. ‘The woman we’re looking for would possibly be in her eighties. She used to make wedding dresses in the town of Sea’s End, on the Northumberland coast.’
Understanding flickered across the woman’s face, and she smiled warmly. ‘Ah. Then I think you must be looking for my grandmother. Eliza Valentine is a name that’s been passed down in my family, and I’ve followed in her footsteps professionally. She taught me everything I know.’
‘Wow,’ Fern murmured. ‘Would you mind if we asked you a few questions about her?’
The younger Eliza tilted her head, curious now. ‘Of course, but … may I ask why you’re looking for her?’
Fern reached down, unzipped the case and carefully unfolded the wedding dress. The fabric spilled over her arms, and Eliza and the shop assistant gasped in unison as they gazed at it.
‘Oh,’ Eliza breathed, stepping closer. Her hands hovered just above the delicate lace. ‘It’s exquisite.’
‘We were wondering if this was one of your grandmother’s. There’s a label that pointed us in her direction, and I know it’s a long shot, but we wanted to try and find out who it belonged to … if that’s at all possible?’
Eliza’s fingers finally brushed against the fabric, trailing over the fine stitching. ‘This craftsmanship … it’s stunning. It looks like something she would have made, but I’d have to take a closer look to be sure.’
‘We’d really appreciate any insight you can offer,’ Fern said, before adding, ‘Especially because of the way it came into our possession.’
Eliza looked up. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It was left outside the antique shop that I own,’ she explained. ‘Inside a bin bag.’
Eliza gasped. ‘You’re joking.’
‘Wish I was.’
‘Someone just … abandoned this?’
‘Pretty much,’ Daniel chimed in.
‘This dress is a masterpiece. Why would anyone do that?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to figure out. There was a note with it,’ shared Fern.
‘A note?’
Fern reached into her coat pocket and retrieved the small slip of paper. She unfolded it carefully and held it out.
‘“Find the groom”,’ Eliza read aloud. She looked at them both. ‘And you think my grandmother might know something about it?’
‘Like I said, it’s a long shot, but hopefully,’ Fern admitted. ‘Or maybe she could at least help us trace who the bride was. If she can remember anything about the dress it would be so helpful, but we do appreciate she must have made so many dresses in her time.’
‘Thousands,’ replied Eliza. ‘But I do know one thing about my grandmother, and that’s that she never made the same dress twice.
Every single one was an original, as she worked with each bride to design the dress of their dreams.’ Eliza’s expression grew thoughtful.
‘Actually, there’s a simple way to find answers. Each dress was numbered.’
‘Numbered?’ queried Fern.
‘Numbered and logged. Every one of them.’
Fern’s eyes grew wide in anticipation. Could it be that simple?
Eliza carefully turned up the hem on the dress to reveal a tiny square label bearing the numbers 64. 24.12. She read the numbers out loud, then smiled. ‘This was one of my grandmother’s earliest pieces … a Christmas Eve wedding.’
‘How do you know that?’ asked Fern.
‘The first number is the dress’s sequence.
This was the sixty-fourth gown she ever made.
The second two numbers are the day and month of the wedding.
It generally makes it easier to find the bride’s information quickly, but as this is one of her earlier designs it’s unfortunately not logged onto the computer. ’
‘Will it be logged anywhere?’
‘Yes, in one of the old ledger books, but they aren’t kept here. Are you going to be in London long?’
‘We’re heading home on Sunday afternoon,’ replied Fern.
‘The first logs are still kept by my grandmother, but I suspect she’d remember this dress if she saw it. She has a remarkable memory for detail and still remembers most of the gowns she’s ever made.’
Fern looked at Daniel. She couldn’t quite believe their luck. It was possible they were about to discover who the dress was actually made for. ‘Would it be possible to meet Eliza?’
The younger Eliza gave the dress another appreciative glance. ‘I’m sure that would be okay, but I’ll check with her first. Would you mind if I took a few pictures of it? So I can show her?’
Fern nodded. ‘Of course. Thank you.’
Eliza fetched her phone and snapped several careful shots from different angles. When she was finished, she said, ‘This is quite the mystery you’ve found yourselves in.’
‘It might turn out to be nothing, but…’ Fern trailed off, exchanging another glance with Daniel.
‘But you’re invested now,’ Eliza finished, smiling knowingly. ‘I have to admit I’m intrigued too.’
Fern carefully placed the dress back in the case and zipped it up.
‘Can I take a contact number? I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve spoken with my grandmother.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Fern said sincerely. ‘We really appreciate this.’
Eliza gave a small nod. ‘Something tells me you two won’t be letting this go until you get to the bottom of it. Can I ask, where is this antique shop?’
‘It’s No. 17 Curiosity Lane on Puffin Island.’
Eliza nodded. ‘Let’s see what we can do.’
Fern finished her drink and stood up. ‘Thanks again.’
They left the boutique, wheeling the case – the right one this time – behind them.
‘I honestly think we’re about to find out who this dress belonged to,’ Fern enthused.
‘I think you’re right, but I do have a question…’
‘Which is?’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to look for a wedding dress whilst you’re here? Because you do know it will happen one day. You’ll be begging me to marry you.’
Fern rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.