Ailish was outnumbered and too defeated to object, so she did as she was told. Chanel led her to a very glamorous changing area, then disappeared and came back two minutes later with a red sequinned dress.
The problem was immediately obvious to Ailish. ‘There’s no way I’m fitting into that.’
‘Trust me. I’ll leave you to change into it, but shout when you need me to do up the zip.’
Off she went, and Ailish rested her forehead against the wall of the changing rooms. This was going to be embarrassing. Humiliating. But she was worried that if she didn’t try, Rhonda and Gwen would storm the cubicle, so, reluctantly, she stripped off her jeans with the elasticated waist, and the jumper that had seen better days, averting her eyes from the underwear calamity underneath.
She took the dress from its hanger and carefully, terrified she’d rip something – maybe the fabric or a hamstring – shestepped into it and pulled it up. There was no denying it was gorgeous. It had the kind of shoulder pads she’d worn in the eighties, and a deep V at the front, then a body-skimming A-line skirt that dropped from right below her bust. So far, so good… if it weren’t for the fact that when she turned around, there was a ten-inch gape where the zipper was supposed to close.
‘How are you getting on in there?’ Chanel chirped from the other side of the curtain.
‘It doesn’t fit, Chanel.’
‘Okay, coming in.’
Ailish took a step backwards as Chanel entered, her enhanced boobs arriving a solid second before the rest of her.
‘Right, turn around and let me zip it…’
‘There’s no point, Chanel. It’ll never close and I don’t want to damage the dress.’
‘There goes the words of someone who’s never worn a dress with inner corsetry before. Right, turn around and put your hands on the wall.’
‘Am I under arrest?’ Ailish fought off an urge to giggle. This was ridiculous. But she did it anyway.
Chanel stood behind her, Ailish felt an almighty tug and then a miracle happened. An actual miracle. The zipper rose, and parts of her body sucked right back inside her torso. She was fairly sure her belly button was now nestled beside a kidney. As she turned around and stared in the mirror, Ailish gasped. It fitted. Not only that, it was spectacular. Stunning. She still didn’t want to go out tonight, but that was now because she just wanted to stand here for hours and look at her reflection in the mirror. How long was it since she’d worn something that came even close to making her look as good as this?
‘Holy Kardashian,’ a new voice exhaled, and Ailish realised that both of her friends were now peeking round the curtain.Rhonda went on, ‘If you don’t take that, I’m giving up on you altogether.’
‘There’s no way I can afford?—’
Chanel got in there quickly. ‘It’s 60 per cent off in the sale because it was Christmas stock. No one is going to be wearing red dresses in January. And I’ll throw in some gorgeous lingerie to wear under it for free.’
There was nothing else to be said.
Ten minutes later, Ailish and her grey undies were on the way out of the shop, clutching the most expensive wardrobe purchase of her life – even with the 60 per cent off! Come to think of it, her wedding dress had been more expensive and look how that turned out. Hopefully the divorce-day dress would have a happier ending.
‘Okay, Makeover Club, stage two,’ Rhonda announced as they entered her glam, gorgeous salon next door.
The manager, Alexis, was ready and waiting for them. ‘Hi boss,’ she greeted Rhonda first, before turning to Gwen and Ailish. They’d met a few times over the years, so there was no need for introductions. ‘Great to see you, ladies! We’re all set up for you. If you want to head over to the hair chairs, I’ll organise drinks. Cocktail or mocktail?’
‘Mocktail,’ Rhonda answered first. ‘I’m driving. You, Ails?’
Screw it, Ailish decided, her resistance to this whole plan swept away by the hem of a sparkly red frock. ‘Cocktail,’ she announced to a cheer from the others.
‘Me too,’ Gwen requested, then spotted Ailish and Rhonda’s surprise.
‘What? It’s one drink. The doctor didn’t say I couldn’t. It’s not going to kill me. Do I need to play the C card again?’
‘Don’t you dare,’ Ailish warned her, shaking her head. ‘If I’m playing by the Makeover Club rules, so are you. One more attempt at emotional blackmail and I’m going to start listing allEric’s pros and cons. Wait until I get to the bit where he picked his toenails in bed.’
Gwen feigned a gagging motion, and Ailish knew they’d reached a truce. For now.
Beverage orders placed, they followed instructions to a row of three leather chairs.
A stylist who introduced herself as Roxy, appeared behind her and immediately began studying Ailish’s hair. ‘What would you like me to do today?’ she asked.
Ailish had absolutely no idea, so she was resigned to her fate when Rhonda broke off from the discussion she was having with a handsome stylist called Kaden about the look she was going for, and piped in with, ‘Colour, cut and take ten years off her.’
