Chapter Twenty Three
Groaning, I toss the sheets, all sticky with sweat, aside and sit up in bed, blinking in the bright, morning sun. Was yesterday just an awful nightmare, brought about by working too many late nights and stress-eating cheese on toast too close to bedtime?
Nope, it happened, I kicked Zoe out of my boutique and thereby, burned all bridges with Kit.
Whatever friendship was blooming between us, well, it’s over now. I’ve gravely insulted his fianceé, and no doubt, she’s already poisoned him against me. Zoe’s best when she’s manipulating, and knowing her, she’ll have twisted the tale and found a way to make me the villain.
Perhaps it’s for the best, spending almost every weekend with Zoe was sending my anxiety through the roof. All the trauma and betrayal from New York resurfaced the moment she stepped through the door of the boutique, and it’s only got worse since. Besides, if she’s out of the picture, that means Kit will have no reason to come around here anymore. Contrary to what the sting in my heart is telling me, this is a good thing. He’s due to wed shortly, and I can’t afford the distraction.
At least work is keeping my mind busy, the local high school’s prom is coming up, so I’m up to my eyeballs in tulle and taffeta. It seems as though my window display of banners, balloons and flowers (courtesy of Sarah’s florist) did the trick and I’ve secured four clients who need to be outfitted for their special night.
From dawn until dusk, I frantically buzz around the four gowns like a frazzled worker-bee, spreading my time between each one as evenly as I can.
When I finally get chance to peer at my phone screen, I’m slightly stunned to see it’s already half past eight in the evening.
Whoa. Time flies when you haven’t even got a moment to spare to run to the loo!
I officially closed up shop over two hours ago, and I’m still in the middle of lining a tea-length skirt.
‘Hell-o-o-o!’
The sudden chipper salutation comes from Lucy, who skips into the studio as comfortably as if it were her own living room.
‘Ah damn it, I thought I’d locked the front door,’ I tease.
‘Nope, but you did remember to turn the Open sign around.’
‘Clearly that wasn’t enough to keep you out, was it?’
Cheekily, Lucy shakes her head. ‘Of course not! Anyway, you’ll be glad I’m here because I came to invite you out. Lily Vale’s nightlife might not hold a candle to Paris but there’s a pub down the lane that does a mean mai tai.’
A refreshing cocktail does sound good, especially since the summer heat is rapidly rising. Not to mention I’ve been sewing full-tilt since eight o’clock this morning, and now my sweaty fringe is plastered to my forehead and my blouse is sticking to my back. Nothing would hit the spot more than an ice-cold, fruity tipple right about now …
‘So what do you say, Cinderella?’ With folded arms, Lucy leans languidly against the door frame. ‘I promise I’ll get you home before midnight so you don’t turn into a pumpkin.’
Amused, I raise an eyebrow. ‘Wasn’t it the carriage that turned back into a pumpkin, not Cinderella?’
‘Well, whatever the case, we’re going out!’
‘I can’t, I’ve got way too much to do here.’
‘Can’t you take a break from work for just one evening?’ She wanders to the rails and casually flips through the colourful array of gowns. ‘You’ve been working into the early hours for days and days now.’
‘Well, I’m a bit behind on some of the prom dresses,’ I sigh as I carefully pin a cap sleeve into place. ‘Zoe’s wedding dress has taken up basically all of my time, and now…’ My voice trails off.
‘Now?’ Lucy queries, circling her wrist, prompting me to continue.
‘Well now, she’s not my client anymore.’
Lucy claps a hand to her open mouth. ‘She fired you?’ Her voice is muffled, but shock peppers her tone.
‘No, I fired her.’
I didn’t think her eyes could grow any larger, but she proves me wrong. ‘What?’
‘I know.’ I cover my face with my hands, peeking out with agonised eyes. ‘I was going to ride it out, I really was, but then she turned on Tanya and I just … well, I lost it and told her to get out. I just couldn’t work with someone like that.’
‘Wow.’ Lucy splutters with laughter and holds up her hand for a high-five. ‘Go, Lottie!’
Despite myself, a guilty grin tugs at my lip as I clap my palm against hers. ‘Yeah, well it was a short-lived victory. I’ve lost my first bride and who knows when I’ll get another? Zoe’s probably going to blast me all over social media and blacklist my boutique before I even get started.’
‘Oh come on, you don’t need to worry about that! You’re going to get heaps and heaps of bridal clients, I know it. You’re so talented, how could you not?’
In the recent past, I might have scoffed or at the very least blushed and refused to take the praise, but I surprise myself by accepting the compliment. ‘Thanks, Luce.’
‘So, are we going out or not?’ She steeples her fingers in mock prayer. ‘Pur-le-e-e-ase?’
I glance behind at my work, considering whether one night off would hurt. It’s true that I really need a break, but at the same time, I’ve got four young girls relying on me to create their dream dresses for prom in a month’s time. I’ve made a good start on each of them, sure, but what with all the fuss around Zoe’s dress and how much time that’s taken up, well, everything else has taken a back seat. Still, my brain is fried and my fingers are spasming in pain, I’m hardly going to do my best work right now.
Lucy must be able to tell I’m wavering, because she presses on to try and convince me.
‘Is that a yes?’ She sways close with silly puppy dog eyes, her head on my shoulder. ‘You could do with a drink anyway, given everything you’ve been through in the last few days.’
‘Fine! Okay, I’ll come out for a drink.’ I throw my arms in the air, signifying defeat. ‘But just one drink.’
I already know that’s a lie, ever since my nights at the student union, I’ve never been able to keep that promise. Still, I resign myself to my fate and allow Lucy to lead the way.
Lily Vale’s one and only pub, The Pheasant’s Nest, is just a street over, and the sky is still light when we step out into the street and make our way.
The pub is rather large inside, and there must be a football game on, because most of the patrons are crowded around the bar, staring up at the ancient TV on the wall. There’s a pool table surrounded by young lads under a stained glass window and an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner crackling out Elvis Presley.
‘Two mai tais, please, Barry!’ Lucy calls out to the man behind the bar.
As he rubs at a glass with a tea towel, he shakes his head. ‘You know, you’re the only person in the village who comes in for a bloody cocktail, Lucy Middleton. Why can’t you have a pint like the rest of us?’
Un-offended, Lucy throws her hair back and chortles. ‘Aw don’t lie, we all know you love practising your mixing skills, Baz!’
Barry grumbles, but he can’t hide the grizzled smile behind his beard.
We take root at a small, slightly sticky table away from the bustle and buzz of the bar. A waitress brings over two huge glasses, each one beaded with condensation. One sip takes me straight to the Caribbean, and I could swear for a second I’m lounging on a sun-baked beach, the sand between my toes.
Lucy smiles expectantly at me. ‘It’s good, yeah?’
‘It’s gorgeous.’ I beam at my friend over the edge of the glass. ‘You’re right, this is just what I needed.’
Lucy reaches across the table and pats my elbow. ‘I’m sorry about what happened with the Queen Cow,’ she says. ‘But for the record, I think you were right to kick her to the curb. She sounds like such a horrible person. I mean, who picks on a teenage girl like that?’
‘A bully, that’s who.’ A wave of queasy guilt ripples through my stomach and I nibble at my lip. ‘I wonder what she’s going to do about a wedding dress now.’
‘Well, if she can’t find something in time, it serves her right. It’s about time she learned that treating people like crap doesn’t get you anywhere.’
Taking another sip of my drink, I attempt an uneasy shrug. ‘Honestly, I’m sick of prattling on about her and her stupid wedding. Tell me about you. How’s the preparations for the ball going?’
Now it’s Lucy’s turn to look uncomfortable. ‘They are going fine, or so I hear from the publishers. The band is booked, the venue is stunning. All in all, it’s going to be a magical evening.’
I study her closely. ‘Mm-hm. So why do you look like you’re about to dive head-first into a frozen pond?’
She runs a finger around the rim of her glass pensively. ‘Because that’s how I feel.’
‘Oh, Luce. I thought we talked about this.’
‘I know, and I listened, I swear I did. But I’m still so scared about it all. Alex tells me I’m being daft, he just doesn’t get it.’ She flicks at the paper umbrella floating in her drink. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I know you think I’m daft too.’
‘I don’t think you’re daft, I just think you’ve got to look at the situation differently.’
It would seem the pep talk I gave her the other week didn’t help as much as I thought. It occurs to me that our situations mirror one another, Lucy is about to be launched into the limelight while I’ve left that life behind to become a small-town designer.
Determined to drown her sorrows, Lucy orders another round of mai tais and she downs half of hers in one gulp.
‘Slow down, girl!’ I gently place my hand over hers and push her glass down from her lips and onto the table.
Lucy gazes down into her drink, then brings her beseeching eyes to me. ‘Do you … do you think you could come with me? To the ball?’
Gobsmacked, I almost spit my mai tai at her. ‘Me?’
Earnestly, she nods. ‘Alex is going to be there of course, but I really need a girlfriend by my side. You know, someone I can get ready with and who can give me that boost of confidence. Please, Lottie?’
‘But - I don’t have anything to wear!’ I tell her, the words slurring together. ‘And I won’t have enough time to make myself a dress that’s fit for a ball now.’
‘Wow, you really are Cinderella, aren’t you?’ Lucy chuckles and stifles a hiccup. Seems as though Barry mixed a strong mai tai, and it’s gone straight to her head. Truth be told, I’m starting to feel a little unscrewed myself. ‘I’m sure one of your display dresses would work, there must be some that fit you, right?’
I mull it over silently as I stir the ice cubes in my cocktail round and round. With a little altering here, a tweak or so there, it might just work …
‘Okay, I’m in.’
Lucy squeals so loud, every patron in the pub turns around to gawp at our table. Mortified, I hunch my shoulders and hide inside my cardigan - this girl really cannot handle her alcohol!
‘Yes, yes, yes , Cinderella!’ She claps her hands together in delight. ‘I’m your fairy godmother, and you shall go to the ball!’
‘Keep your voice down, Luce!’ Giggling, I attempt to hush her. ‘Anyway, I’m supposed to be your fairy godmother, remember? I’m the one who magics up the dress for you.’
‘Oh yeah.’ Lucy scratches her head comically. ‘Well, never mind, we’ll be each other’s fairy godmothers, then.’
I snort fondly at her silliness and finish off my drink. Maybe a night out would do me good after all.