The others stared at me, mouths open.
‘I’m trying really hard to think of something positive to say, like, “It’s not that bad; with a couple of alterations we can make it fabulous.”’ Catherine screwed up her face. ‘I’m sorry, Faith. I know we just met, and Larissa is your mother-in-law. But honestly? That is the worst dress I have ever seen. It doesn’t fit you or suit you. Your shape, style or your complexion. You cannot wear that dress on your wedding day. You can’t wear that dress to empty the bin. I think it might be too scary for Halloween.’
I was starting to quite like Catherine.
Rosa had turned the colour of pickled cabbage. One of her country’s national dishes.
‘That is not a dress!’ she choked. ‘It is a… a… I cannot even find the words!’
‘It’s a Ghost Web,’ Marilyn said.
‘I don’t give a rakia what it is! Take it off!’
The doorbell rang.
We froze, caught like nuns in their underwear.
‘I’ll get it.’ Natasha stood up. ‘I’ll think of an excuse to get rid of them.’
Too late. The front door opened and somebody stepped in.
‘Hello?’
Oh dear. My nearly mother-in-law.
‘Faith?’
And Perry.
‘We heard you were having a bridesmaid fitting. Mother thought she’d join you. Hope that’s?—’
I didn’t wait to hear any more. As Larissa’s pointy heels tapped down my tiled hallway, no doubt preceded by Perry’s Italian leather brogues, I frantically searched for a hiding place. There was only one way into my tiny sitting room, I wasn’t going to squeeze into the television cabinet, and if I hid behind the sofa, it would end up pushed into the middle of the room. In a moment of crazed panic at the thought of Perry seeing me in my wedding dress – not for superstitious reasons but for hideous ones – I dove under the only available cover: Marilyn’s enormous poofy sample skirt. She rapidly shimmied back into the space between the armchair and the window, to provide maximum concealment. I curled into a ball and waited for the most embarrassing moment of my life to be over.
There was a tap on the door. It squeaked open.
‘Oh. Hi, ladies. Is Faith not around?’
‘Perry!’ Natasha, judging by the squeal-like tone, said. ‘This is a dress fitting, you cheeky man. Get out!’
‘Yes!’ probably Catherine added (the voices were quite muffled underneath the net petticoat). ‘What would Faith say if she heard you came bursting in here, knowing full well there were likely to be young women in a state of undress?’
‘My apologies.’ I could hear the smile in Perry’s voice. ‘I didn’t think. As you know, I only have eyes for one woman.’
Somebody snorted. Somebody else said, ‘Ooh. That’s soooo sweet!’
‘Is she here?’
‘She’s upstairs getting on her wedding dress, so you’d better scram.’ Catherine. I could tell by the way she rolled the r.
‘Ah! Best had. Don’t want to ruin the big surprise.’
Larissa sniffed. ‘It’s hardly a surprise, Perry. A photograph of me in the dress has been hanging on the wall at home for forty-eight years.’
‘That may well be the case, Mother, but I don’t look at you and Faith in quite the same way. I’ll be off then. When will you ladies be done here?’
‘Ten minutes at most,’ Rosa said. ‘No point you staying now. We chose colour and everything, did measurements. Tried sample. Just looking at Faith’s dress to make sure it match. Then done.’
‘Well,’ Larissa said, ‘I hardly think you should have made those decisions without me. What if the colour clashes with my outfit? I insist on being filled in on everything. Perry, you can pick me up in an hour.’
