Chapter Eighteen #2
‘Hmmm . . .’ said Mel, nodding wisely. ‘And how did that work out for you, by the way?’ I opened my mouth to reply, but she jumped in before I had the chance. ‘In case your faulty memory has lost the details, let me tell you that the answer to that one was “disastrously”.’
‘Rhys isn’t the type of man I would ever have been drawn towards.’
‘Kind, gentle, supportive and last – but definitely not least – incredibly good-looking. Yeah, I can see why you’d have a problem with all of that.’
It was a relief to find ourselves back on the concourse of the busy shopping centre, where further probing conversation that felt more like a cross-examination was impossible.
Having tried almost every chain store and high street outlet, I was still no closer to finding a dress for Rhys’s event. And with only two days left, time was rapidly running out.
‘What do you say we stop for a coffee and then try some of the smaller shops in the side streets?’ Mel suggested.
‘I think most of them are going to be outside my price bracket.’ I pulled a rueful face. ‘But I’m definitely up for a coffee.’ I linked my arm with hers, still marvelling that I could. Slowly but surely, we were beginning to mend the relationship I’d very nearly broken.
The heat hit like a blast wave as we left the air-conditioned mall. By the time we’d meandered down a few cobblestoned streets in search of a café with outdoor seating, I was feeling uncomfortably sticky. Just the thought of having to try on more dresses was exhausting.
‘Maybe I could make do with something I already own.’ I paused to flash a smile at the waitress as she placed two iced coffees in front of us.
‘I mean, you can’t go wrong with a little black dress, can you?
’ I asked Mel, or rather the back of her head, for her attention was firmly focused in the opposite direction. ‘What do you think?’
‘Hmmm. Yes,’ she said distractedly.
I peered around her, trying to work out what had snagged her attention, but could see nothing unusual. Just an ordinary street on an ordinary day, busier than usual perhaps, but we were in the middle of the school holidays so that was to be expected.
‘Of course. If I really wanted to make a memorable impression, I suppose I could rock up wearing nothing but a big smile and a sparkly G-string.’
Mel nodded in agreement.
‘Yes, definitely,’ she murmured, before my words pierced whatever bubble she’d floated off in. ‘You what?’
‘Oh, so you were listening. Sort of.’
She bit her lip guiltily and that made me feel bad. Especially as there was a new expression in her eyes, one I’d never seen there before.
‘Mel?’ I reached across and folded my hand around hers. ‘What is it? Is something wrong?’ I was right to be concerned when my innocent question caused her bottom lip to tremble.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘It’s something,’ I countered. My eyes went once again to the street, searching for whatever it was that had upset her.
I scanned the crowds but could see no obvious culprit among the mums pushing prams, or those corralling little children who’d clearly rather be anywhere but shopping on a sunny summer’s day.
‘How did they all do it?’ Mel asked, her voice not entirely steady. But then neither was her hand as she reached for her iced coffee.
‘How did who do what?’ I asked, inarticulately.
‘Her,’ Mel said, her voice low as she nodded at a woman disappearing down the road, her right hand firmly clasping that of a little girl skipping along beside her.
‘Or her,’ Mel said, this time her gaze going to a young woman who was trying to stop her small boy from chasing the street pigeons scavenging on the pavement.
‘Or her,’ Mel whispered, her voice almost fracturing as a heavily pregnant woman crossed the road at the nearby pedestrian lights.
I should have been quicker to recognise that the everyday sights I scarcely even noticed were real triggers for her. Guilt took a nip at my heels as I realised just how deeply Mel was affected by her desire for a child and the difficulty she was having getting pregnant.
I sat back in my uncomfortable metal foldaway chair, looking at her and wondering how long I’d been this blind.
Admittedly, there was a lot about the last year I still didn’t remember.
But this pain, the one I could now see so clearly in my friend’s eyes, was obviously not new.
The longing must have been there for a very long time before the despair found a foothold.
‘Last week I found myself counting how many pregnant women I saw walking around Sainsbury’s. That can’t be healthy, can it?’
I shook my head sadly.
‘I just wish I knew how it seems to be so easy for everyone else and so impossibly hard for us.’
‘I don’t know, hon. I wish I could give you an answer. But the truth is, you never really know what anyone is going through. Maybe each one of those women experienced something similar before it worked out for them.’
‘Maybe,’ she said, sounding far from convinced.
I dug deep, trying to find something that didn’t sound like a meaningless platitude.
It was ironic that we’d spent our twenties desperately trying not to get pregnant.
And now, when I hadn’t been paying attention, someone had moved all the goalposts – or at least they had as far as Mel was concerned.
Now the very thing that would derail my life was the only thing she could think about.
‘Even though you know how I feel about all that woo-woo stuff, I really do have a feeling that it’s going to happen for you,’ I said, leaning across the table, uncaring about the sticky spills from previous customers on its surface.
‘I’ve met loads of couples over the years, and I’ve yet to find one that would make better parents than you and Steve, and I refuse to believe the universe doesn’t know that too. ’
‘It’s just such an uphill battle,’ she said on a sad sigh.
I bit my lip worriedly, wondering if this was the right moment to say what had been on my mind since the night in the bar.
‘I don’t know much about how these things work,’ I said, walking on the thinnest ice imaginable.
‘But I do know that IVF is expensive, and I just wanted to say that if money is tight, or if worrying about funds is holding you back . . .’ I cleared my throat, feeling weirdly nervous.
‘Well, the business hasn’t been doing too badly recently and I’m sure I could—’
‘Absolutely not,’ Mel interjected emphatically, her curls bouncing in protest. ‘That’s very generous of you, Ellie, but this is our problem, not yours.’
I knew better than to push it. Mel had always been a little prickly about money.
‘Okay. But if you should change your mind . . .’
She squeezed my hand. ‘Just the fact that you’ve offered means more to me than you could know.’ She gave me a slow smile.
‘What?’ I asked, feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny.
‘It’s just good to have you back again.’
We looked at each other, and suddenly we were the same two girls who’d met on the first day of university, who’d known in that moment that they’d found a friend for life.
‘Okay,’ Mel declared, her sunny disposition firmly back in place. ‘Let’s go get you a knock-out dress that’ll make that gorgeous man – the one who isn’t taking you on a date – reconsider this whole “just good friends” thing.’
We found it in the very next shop. It was a small boutique tucked away at the far end of a cobbled alleyway.
Stepping beneath the wrought-iron archway felt like entering a secret passageway.
There were two exclusive jewellery shops, an art gallery with a single ceramic vase in its window, and a shop with designer shoes that could easily have drained my entire bank account.
‘You know that scene in Pretty Woman?’ I murmured to Mel, who was insistently tugging me towards the dress shop tucked away in the corner.
‘The one where she’s looked down on by the shop assistant?
’ Mel pushed open the door of the shop and a bell chimed above our heads.
‘Prepare to watch it re-enacted in real life,’ I whispered.
‘Shh,’ Mel hissed, smiling widely at the woman behind the counter. ‘I have a good feeling about this place.’
‘Another one?’ I teased, but I allowed her to propel me farther into the shop.
I’d been right. Every price tag made me wince. I was about to suggest a hasty exit when I spotted a solitary rail at the back of the shop with a Sale sign.
The dress was in the middle of the rack, its sequins catching the sunlight shafting through the shop window.
I followed a sunbeam to the rail while Mel continued to browse by the door.
I was smiling as I plucked the hanger from the rail.
Even before I released the garment from its neighbours or checked the size on the label, I knew this was the dress I’d be wearing on my ‘definitely not a date’ with Rhys.
The changing room was nothing more than a tiny curtained-off section at the back of the shop.
There wasn’t even a mirror, but I didn’t need one to know the dress was a perfect fit.
From the front it was decorous, almost modest, with a halter neckline that came up to my throat in a collared band.
But the back . . . well, basically there wasn’t one.
I’d slipped off my bra to get a better idea of just how risqué it was.
Pretty daring, as it turned out, with the material falling in a loose swathe at the small of my back, almost – but not quite – revealing the colour of the briefs I’d put on that morning.
The fabric fell to the ground like a sparkling waterfall, close-fitting and slinky.
Without the slit that ran from the hem up to the back of my knees, walking would have been a real challenge.
There was something about the blue-black sequins that reminded me of the highlights the sun picked out in Rhys’s dark hair.
They shimmered as I walked, making me look like a mermaid.
‘Oh my God, Ellie. That dress could have been made for you. You look amazing.’
Mel’s enthusiastic response made me forget my limited budget or even try to cheekily bargain over the price.
Estate agents are known for their love of haggling – it’s practically in our DNA – but buying this dress had been a foregone conclusion even before I’d known how incredible it would look on my body.
I was proud of the way I didn’t even grimace when I slid my credit card across the counter five minutes later. I’d have to sell an extraordinary number of properties in the next few months to justify this extravagance, but when the glossy cardboard carrier was passed to me, I knew it was worth it.