A Winter's Wedding (10 page)

Dylan complimented her on the decor.

‘Thanks,’ she said happily. ‘I do try to live stylishly on a very small budget.’

‘Don’t they pay you well enough at the magazine?’

‘Yes, the salary is quite good. But the rent here is pretty high, and also I’m still paying off my wedding debts.’

‘Did your father not pay for some of it?’

‘No – he’d like to, but my parents live on benefits, Dylan. I have to send them money from time to time, dear love them.’

‘Of course, look, I’m such an idiot sometimes. I had no right to ask you about any of this.’

‘No, I’m glad to be able to tell you,’ she smiled. ‘It feels less surreal now it’s out in the open. It’s hard keeping secrets. Nobody here knows about this. I mean, apart from Arabella; she knows pretty much everything.’

‘Does anyone else at your work know?’ Dylan asked gently.

‘No, it’s just Arabella. The others are lovely too. I’m sure even Jane Maxwell wouldn’t say anything mean if she found out.’

‘Jane Maxwell?’

‘Long story … But I’m trying to portray a nicer image of Belfast, do you see? So I like to keep the most embarrassing things hidden under the carpet. Even though, if that carpet was real, it would look like Mount Everest. Would you like more tea?’

‘Yes, please. So you’re truly over this Alex chap, then?’ Dylan asked gently.

‘Yes, of course I’m over him. Haven’t you got it? What we had together was
nothing
. And compared to last night, well, we weren’t even all that compatible. That makes me sound terribly bitchy, but it’s true. Just so you know.’

‘Well, it was quite a night.’

‘Alex honestly doesn’t matter any more. I was a romantic fool, that’s all. Alex is from a wealthy family and I grew up in one of the poorest neighbourhoods in the city. We went to the same grammar school, though. And I was young and foolish, so I kidded myself that material things didn’t matter.’

‘They don’t matter, Emily.’

‘Oh they do, I’m afraid. Anyway, we were teenage sweethearts and I guess he was a schoolgirl crush that I just never got over. He was my first love and my first lover. We broke up lots of times over the years. It’s obvious in hindsight that it was never going to work, because we never even lived together. I think he liked the idea of breezing in and out of my life, keeping me in reserve until he found somebody better.’

‘That’s an awful way to treat anybody.’

‘And he proposed to me when we were on holiday in Australia two years ago, both of us wasted on cheap cocktails. You see, even the proposal was an indication that all was not well. But I got all carried away, became a total wedding fiend and planned this great big fancy wedding. Borrowed a fortune and blew it all on daft things like vintage cars to the church, and fresh flowers on all the pews. I mean, it was silly. I’m not even religious … And Alex said he’d move to London permanently instead of flying back and forth from Belfast all the time. Then he met this other girl on the plane one day about a week before the wedding and realized he’d found the one.’

‘So you said … Still, he fairly picked his moment to break up with you,’ Dylan said, shaking his head with disapproval.

‘I can see it from his point of view now,’ Emily said. ‘I mean, he is a lawyer. So he knew how foolish it would have been to go ahead with the wedding.’

‘You’re a bit weird, Emily.’

‘Yes, I know,’ she laughed.

‘You’re infuriatingly practical sometimes.’

‘Yes, I know – but I have to be. When and if you meet my parents you’ll understand why I cultivate my practical side as much as I can. People who live entirely by their emotions can end up in an awful muddle. Tell you what; I’ll pack up all the wedding things and my honeymoon clothes and I’ll give the lot of it to the shop. You can bring it in with you today, and then you’ll see that I’m genuinely over Alex and not in love with him any more. Will that do you?’

‘Sure, but only if you want to,’ Dylan said.

‘I do want to. It’s a Zen thing. I made up this Zen theory one day to stop Arabella coming round to the flat and finding out that most of her gifts to me were on their way to your shop. But, you know, I’m really starting to believe in the power of de-cluttering – one memory at a time.’

Emily leapt off her chair and went striding into the bedroom. Pulling a large carrier bag out of her wicker trunk, she opened the wardrobe door and lifted out her wedding dress, silk posy, lace veil and satin shoes. She laid them gently in the carrier bag and then added four bridesmaid dresses, several summery outfits, three brand-new bikinis, two pairs of leather sandals, two woven clutch bags and four silk scarves.

‘There,’ she said to Dylan, who was leaning on the door frame, sipping his tea and blowing her a kiss. ‘All done – I’m truly over it. Now, I’ve got to hurry up and get dressed. Remember, I’m the new editor until further notice.’

Dylan looked at Emily and fell in love with her all over again. But he didn’t complicate the moment by saying anything. He just hoped he never met Alex in the street, for he couldn’t promise not to punch him in the face.

How could any man not love Emily? he wondered. How could any man think he was too good for her?

10. Charity Begins at Home

It was late July and Sylvia had deserted her post yet again, but with very good reason: the stables were taking in a batch of nine elderly ponies that had been found half starved at the side of the road in Cumbria. The poor creatures had been left tethered to a gate, so they couldn’t even graze or drink while they waited for their callous owners to come back. Sylvia had rearranged the entire stables to fit them all in, booked a day-long visit by the vet, and was working out if they could afford more heating oil. She was also planning to invite the local press to come along and take pictures in a bid to raise fresh funds.

And so Dylan was once more running the charity shop single-handedly. He didn’t mind at all, he said, for it gave him more time to think. And it gave him a little more time to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. On the final Saturday in July, Emily decided to spend the day with him at the shop, sorting out the new stock and maybe changing some of the wall displays. She bought a few fashion magazines from a nearby shop, so she could study current trends and maybe attempt something eye-catching in the window. Now that the new decor was complete, Sylvia felt it was time to begin the transformation from shabby-chic to style boutique. Consequently she had given Emily her blessing to tinker with the shop displays to her heart’s content.

‘I think I’ll begin with clearing the back wall,’ Emily said, after a while spent flicking through her magazines. ‘And then I’ll put some summery tea dresses and straw hats up.’

‘Sounds fine,’ Dylan agreed. ‘Tell me if you need the ladder.’

‘Shall I put my wedding dress in the window?’ Emily asked Dylan suddenly. ‘It is the height of summer, after all. We might attract the attention of a passing bride-to-be. You never know.’

‘Look, are you sure you want to do this?’ Dylan asked gently. ‘We could always give it all to another charity shop, so you don’t have to look at it.’

‘No, I’m ready. I think it would be lovely if my dress had a happy ending. You know, to restore some good karma to the whole thing? And if you price the gown and all the accessories very reasonably, you’ll get some much-needed money for the shop too. I know I paid thousands for it, but Sylvia needs all the funds she can get – what with the poor starving ponies and everything.’

‘You’re being infuriatingly practical again.’

‘I know. But that’s no bad thing. We have animals to feed.’

‘Well, do you want me to move anything out of the window for you? We don’t have any nice mannequins or anything, though. Sylvia thought of buying a couple, but you wouldn’t believe the price of them.’

‘Um, good point … I know, there’s a nice little wardrobe in the storeroom, isn’t there? That pretty, painted one? I think Sylvia brought it in from her house, to keep the spare stock in. But it’s far too pretty for mere storage. Could we maybe set that in the window, towards one side so it doesn’t block out the light too much? And then I’ll just iron the dress, slip it on a hanger and hang it on the wardrobe door? It’ll look lovely there, I think. It’ll look as if it’s hanging on the wardrobe door ready for the bride to put it on and step straight into the wedding car.’

‘Okay. Listen, I’ll fetch the wardrobe and you can start ironing. But, Emily … if you change your mind about selling the dress in here, will you please tell me? I can’t imagine what you must have gone through that day. I know you said you were over Alex, but you don’t have to put on a brave face with me – honestly. I know how important weddings are to girls. I never thought weddings were just about the frills and the flowers.’

‘Yes, you’re very perceptive for a bloke, aren’t you?’

‘I try to be. When I want to be; but I don’t always get it right.’

‘Ah, you’re doing all right so far. I admit, I did think I’d lose my sanity before that day was over. My thoughts were racing for hours, and I felt panicky and weird. As the minutes crawled by, it was like an out-of-body experience.’

‘No wonder.’

‘And yes, I did cry until my face looked like a crumpled-up crisp packet. If it weren’t for Arabella, I might have jacked in my job altogether and gone on antidepressants.’

‘But you didn’t.’

‘No, I didn’t. Because eventually I realized that Alex wasn’t the right man for me. We had nothing at all in common. Alex was ultra-ambitious – he was into extreme sports, and his idea of romance was asking his secretary to send me flowers on my birthday.’

‘What an idiot.’

‘I was crazy to think we were going to live happily ever after – together for fifty years. He didn’t even want to live in London. And I must have told him a hundred times I was never going to settle down in Belfast. I think that he thought I’d just come home like a good girl when the wedding was over.’

‘But you must have loved him to agree to marry him?’ Dylan said gently. ‘You must have loved him a bit?’

‘I did love him, yes. But I loved the
memory
of Alex when he was a nineteen-year-old; when he was fun and always making me laugh and playing practical jokes on everyone. I was in love with our student days and that lovely, light feeling you get with your first love. Snogging in the park beside the ice-cream vans, and running all the way home in the pouring rain … But by the time Alex was thirty-three, all of those nice things had been replaced by an all-consuming desire to make money.’

‘Yes?’

‘Yes. He was a completely different person, Dylan. All he ever talked about was his career path, and the expensive cars and houses he liked, and who he ought to be playing golf with. He was an insufferable bore, if I’m honest about it. If I’d met him for the first time when he was thirty-three, I would have thought he was an annoying little social climber. I wouldn’t have given him the time of day. And he was terribly ashamed of my parents. I mean, I was ashamed of them too. Well, I’ve a right to be ashamed of them. But they were no reflection on him, surely? No, I was just as guilty as he was. It was me who should’ve put the brakes on it all.’

‘You mustn’t blame yourself, Emily.’

‘I know. But we’re all responsible for how we deal with life’s little setbacks, aren’t we? I shouldn’t have let myself get blinded by all the trappings.’

‘It wasn’t your fault.’

‘But it was my fault, Dylan. I should have known better. I don’t like it when people refuse to accept any blame for their own troubles. That’s the one thing that really, really frustrates me about my mother, you know? She blames everyone but herself for her alcoholism.’

‘What do you mean?’ Dylan said, carrying the small wardrobe carefully out of the storeroom and setting it down in the space that Emily had just made by the window.

‘She says it isn’t her fault that alcohol is so addictive and so cheap, and the government should have more rehab facilities. And the school she went to was useless and gave her no preparation for the world of work. And my father should have done better for himself, and should have given her a nicer lifestyle. He should have been a more romantic husband, and he should have made her happier. And then I held her back from entering the job market properly, and that’s why she drank so much – because she was so bored of sitting at home with me all the time.’

‘Did she not think of leaving you in a nursery, if she was all that unhappy?’

‘I think nurseries are a relatively new phenomenon back home. She was only earning buttons, anyway. Would you listen to me rambling on again? I hope I’m not boring the pants off you. Let’s not talk about my parents any more today, or Alex. That’s supposed to be the point of all my de-cluttering. I’m trying to stop thinking about all the times I messed up.’

‘You didn’t mess up.’

‘Okay, all the times when life let me down.’

‘Fair enough, let’s change the subject.’

Dylan put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and went off to boil the kettle.

Then Emily fetched her wedding gown from under the counter and gave it a careful pressing on the wonky old ironing board. She hung it carefully on the inside of the wardrobe door, which she left standing wide open. Then she draped her lace veil over the padded hanger too, and set her satin shoes on the floor beside her pink beaded posy. The bridesmaid dresses she hung inside the wardrobe. Luckily they were made of crushed silk and didn’t need to be ironed. There was a pretty ribbon garter, which she tucked into the bodice of the dress; it would make a nice little surprise for whoever eventually decided to buy it.

‘I had four pairs of the sweetest pink patent pumps to go with these dresses, but I think the girls forgot to give them back to me,’ she said.

‘Never mind; it’s a lovely display, Emily,’ Dylan said, hugging her tightly. ‘There’s the kettle boiled now, so I’ll brew up.’

‘Okay, and I’ll vacuum the carpet. There are beads from the posy scattered all over it.’

But before they had even finished their tea, an excited young woman with bright red hair came teetering across the road in blue platform slingbacks and almost ran straight through the door of the shop without opening it first.

‘Watch yourself there,’ Dylan said, springing to his feet as the door crashed open with an almighty wobble.

‘Sorry, sorry. But I really want the wedding dress. I’ll take everything in the window,’ she said breathlessly. ‘It is a Vera Wang, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it is,’ Emily said, amazed at what was happening.

‘How much do you want for everything in the window, and the posy too? I just love it all.’

‘Don’t you need to know the dress sizes?’ Emily said, struggling to overcome her shock at such a swift expression of interest.

‘Oh yes. Please tell me the sizes – but they look just right to me.’

‘The wedding dress is a size 12, regular. The shoes are a nine. And the bridesmaid dresses are all a size 10.’

‘Perfect … except for the bridal shoes,’ the woman said, picking up Emily’s satin shoes, making a disappointed face and then setting them back down again on the pale blue carpet. ‘I’m a six, so there’s no point in taking these shoes. What a shame … they are utterly gorgeous. And two of my bridesmaids are size 8, but I can take their dresses in. I’m pretty handy with a sewing machine. Yes, okay, I’ll have the lot, please … except for the bridal shoes. They’d only fit a bride with feet the size of boats, wouldn’t they?’

Dylan and Emily exchanged mischievous glances, and Emily had to bite her bottom lip to stop from laughing out loud. They hadn’t had time to put individual price tags on Emily’s wedding things, so Dylan suggested an overall price and the woman readily agreed. She set her handbag on the counter, and delved inside it for her chequebook.

‘I can’t believe my luck,’ she said, giddy with happiness. ‘We’re getting married on a shoestring budget,’ she explained. ‘We’re trying to do everything for two thousand pounds, including the buffet and the honeymoon. It’s a new trend; I’m sure you’ve heard of it? Debt-free weddings; it’s all the rage. I mean, why line the pockets of those rotten greedy banks when you can have a perfectly nice wedding without spending a fortune?’

‘Why indeed,’ Dylan said dryly.

‘Yes, I’ve heard of that trend,’ Emily said, sighing with regret. She’d borrowed thousands of pounds to pay for her wedding – she’d be paying off the debt for years. And all because she’d been trying to impress Alex’s posh parents. She wondered if they ever thought of her nowadays.

‘I’ll see what we’ve got by way of a box,’ Dylan said.

He hoped Emily wouldn’t collapse in a puddle of tears when she realized what she was doing.

‘I must tell my fiancé,’ the woman said, taking out her mobile phone and sending a quick text.

Emily began to fold up the dresses, amazed that her lovely display had only lasted for fifteen minutes altogether. Dylan managed to find a large, clean cardboard box and lined it with some crisp sheets of white tissue paper. Then Emily folded in the yards and yards of immaculate white tulle and crushed pink silk, and laid her lace veil and small posy lovingly on the top. The woman handed over her cheque and showed her ID card to reassure them she was genuine, and within seconds she was gone. The last Emily saw of her precious wedding gown was the delighted woman hailing a taxi at the end of the street, tightly clutching the large cardboard box to her chest.

‘I can’t believe what just happened here,’ Dylan said, placing the cheque gently in the cash register. ‘Can you believe we just made five hundred pounds in one sale? It’s not a fraction of what you paid, I know, but Sylvia will be absolutely delighted. That should cover the rest of the vet’s bill this month. Are you feeling okay, Emily? You look a bit flushed.’

‘What? Oh yes, don’t worry about me. I’m not going to have another panic attack. Not over Alex, anyway – he’s so not worth it. It’s a huge relief, to be honest. I feel a great wave of sheer relief washing over me. It’s only a dress, isn’t it? Letting go of it doesn’t mean anything significant, not any more.’

‘You can buy an even nicer dress for the next time,’ Dylan said. And then he realised how dismissive that sounded. ‘I didn’t mean that in a casual way,’ he said quickly.

‘I know you didn’t,’ she smiled.

‘I mean, the next time you are getting married – to somebody who is actually worthy of you – you can buy the dress of your dreams.’

‘No, I don’t want a big white wedding, thanks,’ Emily said, picking up the satin shoes and setting them underneath the counter. ‘I’m done with making grand statements. And like the girl said, why line the pockets of the banks just to feed and entertain a lot of people you haven’t seen in years, and won’t be seeing again in a hurry? No offence about banks, by the way.’

‘And none taken. Don’t worry about it.’

‘Big weddings are a form of madness, when you think about it. All that stress for one day. Arabella’s got friends who spent even more than I did. One of them fainted on her way up the aisle. And another one had to get married in a hospital ward, because the groom broke his leg on the stag weekend.’

‘Why didn’t they wait until his leg got better?’

‘They wanted to get married before they went on the honeymoon. And the honeymoon was a six-week cruise that cost over ten thousand pounds, so they couldn’t afford to miss it.’