Sweat pooled in the back of my knees as I tried to remain balanced in a squatting position. The air hung thick and humid like a hothouse. As Perry said goodbye and left, leaving an awkward silence, cramp began burning up my calves.
‘She’s taking her time,’ Larissa barked. ‘One of you go and help her.’
‘Would you like a cup of tea, Aunt Larissa?’ Natasha asked. ‘Why don’t you come into the kitchen while I make one?’
‘Why indeed?’
Marilyn, who must have been struggling as much as me from having to balance in one position with a person crouching almost between her legs, began to wiggle her hips, bending her knees as her muscles twitched.
‘I’ll go and get Faith,’ she said. ‘Perhaps she’s got stuck in her zip or something.’
‘Please do!’
No, Marilyn. Please don’t.
She took a tiny, exploratory step away from the wall. I jiggled two inches after her, biting my knuckles to stop me groaning as the cramp shot up my legs.
‘I’ll come with you.’ Catherine came and stood behind us. ‘Help you not to trip in this beautiful dress.’
‘Not beautiful – it is a sample!’ Rosa said.
‘Well, we don’t want her falling down the stairs in it, do we?’ Catherine bent down and pretended to hold the skirt up out of the way, in actual fact trying to hide the woman-like shape underneath while not lifting it so high that you could see the woman was me. This obviously failed, as Natasha came to join her as we shuffled forwards, both of them surrounding the dress like geese following a farmer with a bucket of corn.
What Catherine failed to notice, as we bizarrely waddled out of the room, was the bottom of the Ghost Web trailing out from under the thick folds of Marilyn’s dress. Marilyn began to speed up as she reached the exit. As I hurried with her as best I could in my squatting position, the hem of the Ghost Web snagged on the bottom of the living room door. I pulled against the resistance, without realising what it was, and a distinct ripping sound erupted from the bottom of Marilyn’s skirts.
‘Sorry,’ she said, nearly falling through the doorway in her haste. ‘I had cauliflower cheese for lunch.’
We all tumbled after her, barely making it to the bottom of the stairs before collapsing in a pile of giggles. Scrambling up and into my bedroom, the laughter died in our throats as we saw the state of my wedding dress. A three-inch-wide section had torn away from the bottom, and now dangled by a thread. The pressure had caused the skirt seam to detach from the low waistband, leaving a gaping, jagged hole. Never mind the sweat patches on the overly tight underarm sections, or the stretched seams where my hunched-over back had pushed the fabric further than it was ever designed to go.
‘Hooray!’ Marilyn whispered. ‘The Ghost Web is destroyed!’
‘Not hooray,’ I hissed back. ‘Larissa is downstairs waiting for me to come down in it.’
‘Just tell her it doesn’t fit,’ Catherine said.
‘She’s already seen me in it. She knows I can get it on.’
‘Well, you have to do something.’
‘I thought you were putting on the dress? Don’t tell me. You’ve changed your mind and decided to wear jeans!’ Larissa glowered at me as if to say,I wouldn’t put it past you, given the rest of your decisions regarding this wedding.
‘Yes. Well. There is a slight problem there.’
She raised her Botoxed brow as far as it would go.
‘I seem to have put on some weight since I last tried it on, so, um, it doesn’t actually fit me at the moment.’
She scrutinised me for a moment, scanning me up and down as if I were a horse at the county show.
‘Are you with child?’
‘No! No. Definitely not. I’m not walking as much since I stopped working at HCC. It must be that.’
‘Hmm. Well. I’ll give Anton a call. Set something up. We can’t have this continuing for much longer or we’ll have to cancelNottinghamshire Life. It’s bad enough that…’ She glanced at Marilyn and pursed her lips.
‘Excuse me!’ Marilyn stood grandly in her sample dress. ‘I am in the room, and I do have two perfectly functioning ears.’
‘I’m sorry. Did I say something to offend you? I don’t recall mentioning your name.’
