Chapter 38 #2
'Isn't it?' Maisie turned it round to show the back, thoroughly pleased with herself.
'And here's the thing, I know this brand.
My sister's obsessed with them; she follows them on Instagram and everything.
They're that online brand, you know the one, does all the limited edition prints an' all that?
This is, like, two hundred quid new. Easily.
Honestly, easily. My sister drops loads on one of these dresses.
Good quality, though. She says it's an investment, so her husband swallows it.
Ha! Investment my left foot.' She lowered her voice as if imparting a state secret. 'It's twelve pounds.'
Tilly looked at the dress. Then at the price tag, which did indeed, in biro, say ￡12. 'You're not serious?'
'Dead serious. Want to try it?'
Tilly did want to try it. Taking it into a cramped little curtained corner that passed for a changing room, she pulled it over her head, and turned to the mirror, and well, what do you think occurred?
A miracle had just happened. There it was.
The blue did something rather marvellous to her; the cut skimmed over the extra pounds the five-star staff canteens had so generously gifted her, and the swish, oh, the swish was perfect.
Plus, it was sort of casual, but sort of not.
Like she'd dressed up but hadn't. Thinking about the oyster night, the Catherine wheel gave a fizz, as she thought that she actually looked lovely.
Maisie's voice through the curtain. 'Well? How is it? How's the colour on you? Is it the one?'
Tilly looked at herself in the spotty glass of a charity shop on the quiet side of Darling Bay, in a two-hundred-pound dress with a price tag of twelve, and couldn't quite stop the smile spreading across her face. 'It is very much the one.'
She drew back the curtain and stepped out, and Maisie, who had been hovering on the other side rearranging a basket of belts, looked up and clapped a hand to her chest like a woman in a film.
'Oh my days! No, I mean, yes, you have to have it.
You can't not. Look at you. It's like it was made for you. '
Tilly went over to a bigger mirror by the counter and had a proper look at herself.
And there she was. No longer the woman in a brown housekeeping tabard with a hibiscus clip jammed in her hair, nor the woman who'd sat on her own at hotel bars across the planet waiting for a man not worth her time.
Neither of the above; this Tilly looked a million dollars.
Turning slowly from side to side, she watched the hem swish out and around.
This was no cheap dress made with not quite enough fabric, nope.
The swish on that baby was the real thing.
Giving a little experimental turn, the whole skirt lifted and fell in a soft, heavy arc.
Feeling an inner nine-year-old who had been buried for a long time, Tilly chuckled. 'I love it.'
Maisie actually squealed, and her hands flew to her mouth.
'See, that's what I mean about the quality of this brand.
It's the weight of the fabric, my sister says.
The cheap ones go all limp and sad. This one's got, like, body.
It moves properly.' She tipped her head.
'It really suits you. Honest. You have to have it.
I mean, at twelve quid if you don't, I will. '
Tilly, who had spent a good portion of her adult life being told by Andy exactly what she was allowed to wear, swallowed an urge to wail. 'Thank you, yes, actually, it does suit me. Not being big-headed or anything. Like it was made for me.'
Neither of them was wrong. The tassels at the neck swung gently, the cream botanical sprigs were just right and the deep washed blue pulled out all the right colours.
Tilly shook her head. On the quiet side of Darling Bay had landed in her life.
Funny how things turned up when you weren't really looking for them.
Her dad would have had a field day with the dress, her and the shop.
Best finds are the ones you're not after, Tils. 'Right, I'll take it. Definitely.'
Maisie did a small, victorious bounce. 'Oh, I'm dead pleased.
I love it when something finds its person.
That's why I wanted to volunteer here. Brenda, who runs Tuesdays, says things wait for the right person to come in.
' Taking another dress from the same rack next to a steamer, Maisie raised her eyebrows.
'You have to try this one, too. In a way, I think the pink is even nicer.
I can see you in it on a Darling day when the sun is shining. '
Tilly, totally caught up in the moment, took the pink dress into the changing room. A minute later, she was staring at herself again, wondering how another dress had worked magic.
'Any good?'
Tilly whipped the curtain back. 'Love this one, too.'
Maisie whooped. 'Tell you what. How about both for twenty? Sounds about right to me.'
'Oh, my God! Really? Thank you. That's so kind of you.'
'Nah. You have to have them.'
'Rightio, well, I'll just have a look around if you don't mind. I've just moved into a house, and to say it's needing some love is an understatement.'
'Ahh, thought as much. Boat Shed is it?'
Tilly frowned. 'It is.'
Maisie flicked her hand. 'I work in Darlings out the back doing the baskets. Gossip goes around on Darling. I was out the back there the first day you came in. I should have recognised you.'
'Nice to meet you.'