“That’s Ava Green. She’s a genius. And this is Rani Shah,” LadyB explains. “Rani’s business centres around bringing vintage pieces back to life. If anyone can solve thisissue, it’s Rani.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of you,” Jessica says, clicking her fingers to recall a memory, as Rani takes a look at the dress. “Rani’s Retros, or something, right?”
“Yes!” Rani says. “Yes, that’s me. Us, I mean me and my staff.”
“I was thinking of reaching out to you for my next premiere.”
“Oh well,” Rani says. “Make sure you give me plenty of notice. I am in demand.”
“Well, get closer,” Jessica instructs her. “What’s the verdict?”
Crouching down, Rani examines the long tear in the gauze train, frowning deeply. Getting up, she peers at the still spreading red stain on the bodice.
“I’m going to level with you,” she tells Jess. “This can be fixed,but not today. The train needs a completely new panel and that”—she gestures at the stain—“that needs a couple of days of treatment to lift it without ruining the material. The best person to take care of it would be”—Rani looks towards Cynthia—“well, Cynthia, if you’re still talking.”
“Are we still talking, Cynth?” Jess asks.
“’Course we are, darling,” Cynthia says through a thick lip. “Not so sure how I feel about your mother.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” Jessica tells Rani. “Well, it’s not like I’ve got a shortage of clothes. I’ll just have to find something else to wear. Maybe that dress I bought for the honeymoon.”
“You can’t get married without a wedding dress,” Jess’s mum says. “Not after all this. Not after I colour-matched eight thousand roses by hand.”
“I can, Mum,” Jessica says, gentle but firm. “I’m marrying Eamon, not this dress. I was never that into a big wedding anyway. This was all for you. So, if you don’t mind, please just let me marry the man I love and then we can all get drunk.”
“I have a suggestion,” Rani says, putting her hand up like she’s in class.
“Go on.” Jessica nods.
“Well, it will take me about an hour to fetch it. But at my store I have the perfect 1952 Dior wedding gown, and”—she looks Jess up and down—“it will fit you like a glove, almost as if it were made for you. Here”—she opens her phone and shows Jessica a photo of the gown on a mannequin—“Ava knows I’ve had this gown for three years. People keep trying to buy it from me and I have never been able to bring myself to part with it. Never found the person that is worthy of it. Until today, that is.”
Jessica takes the phone and stares at the dress, her face suffusing with delight.
“Jessica, I think maybe you and this gown are a match made in heaven,” Rani says.
“Oh Rani, it’s perfect,” Jessica says. “Classic, but original and vintage is so in.”
“And so much better for the planet,” Rani says.
“I love it and I love you!” Jess hugs Rani. “Yes! Please! Fetch it! I don’t care how much it costs, I adore it.” Jessica beckons over her mum. “Mum, get me out of this meringue, no offence, Cynth.”
“None taken,” Cynth says.
“Apologise to Cynth for punching her, and then go and tell everyone the ceremony is delayed for two hours, got it? And Rani, thank you.”
“Oh, just another typical day at Rani’s Retro,” Rani says.
“Cynthia, tell the magazine photographer we need a new set of pre-ceremony photos,” Jessica says, “and make sure Rani and her friend are in all of them. You will both come to the wedding, won’t you?”
“We’d be so honoured,” Rani says.
“There’s just one thing.” Jessica looks at me. “Would you mind changing out of that Care Bear T-shirt?”
Chapter Forty-Four
I haven’t been to many weddings, actually no weddings ever, but I’ve decided I’m a fan of the whole crazy ritual.
For the price of me putting on a dress, in this case an emerald-green seventies chiffon maxi dress trimmed with feathers, I have had six courses of delicious food, listened to the rest of my table share shocking gossip about people I don’t know,andheard the best man tell inappropriate jokes, much to the hilarity of the bride. Oh, and champagne, lots of champagne, which is great because you can drink loads of it and still be totally sober.
