‘Of course you are. You’re in love and you’re getting married, and you run your own business and you’re a wonderful musician. What’s not to be happy about? You don’t need to be thinner or have a tiara or a carriage to convey you to the church that was hand-crafted by a team of artisans.’
Ashleigh wanted to sink into the couch cushions. Didn’t her nan realise how hypocritical she sounded? She’d just reeled off a checklist that meant that Beth should be happy regardless. Did that mean that because Ashdidn’thave a boyfriend, and wasn’t getting married, and she wasn’t running her own business or fulfilling her potential creatively, she couldn’t be happy? Did it mean that Beth wasn’t allowed to be sad? What strange, topsy-turvy ideas everyone had about emotions and which were valid, and which were not.
‘That’s definitely not my style anyway.’ Beth grinned. ‘Were you by any chance a radical in a former life, Christine? You’re very passionate about all this.’
‘I’m still alive, Beth. Don’t let the bastards grind you down.’
‘You’re right. I’ve been borrowing problems haven’t I? Probably because I’m nervous.’
‘Cold feet?’ Nan asked, dunking her biscuit and narrowing her eyes carefully at Beth.
‘Oh God, no. Just like…performance anxiety for the wedding, I suppose.’
‘What’s he like then? Your husband-to-be?’
‘Nick? He’s…he makes me laugh, and he’s kind and supportive. And I fancy the pants off him.’
Nan smiled at her. ‘What does he do?’
‘He’s a commercial pilot.’
While Nan and Beth chatted about flying and going on holidays, and debated pollution, Ashleigh put down her tea, which she was too nervous to drink anyway, and went upstairs to grab her sketch book and sewing box. All the arguments about what was needed or not needed when it came to marriage had evaporated – her belly was flipping and flopping like crazy as she went back down the stairs. She wanted Beth to fall in love with one of these designs. This was her wedding dress and she was supposed to love it and feel wonderful wearing it.
She hovered beside the armchair and Beth looked up at her once the conversation lulled, biting her lip, her brown eyes alight with excitement and a touch of nerves too. ‘Are these your designs?’
‘Yep. A few ideas. Just tell me if I’m way off the mark and we can try and sketch something up while you’re here.’
Beth put her mug down and held out her hands. Why did Ashleigh feel so sick? Because this was different to making something for herself, or helping her neighbours make shorts from their kids’ old jeans.
She handed them over and sat down, quickly, picking up tea up again so she didn’t start drumming her fingers as she watched her friend leafing through the pages.
‘Wow, these are gorgeous, Ash,’ Beth said as she looked over them.
‘You don’t have to say that.’
‘Look, I know I’m not going to win the bridezilla trophy but I would draw the line at wearing a dress I didn’t like just to avoid hurting your feelings.’ She flicked back to one of the middle pages and Ashleigh felt some of the tension ease out of her shoulders. Beth was really studying them, a smile at the edge of her lips.
‘Okay. Good. So, what style do you think you’ll be most comfortable in?’
‘Ireallylove this one. Do you think that would suit me?’ She pointed out the one with a Queen Anne neckline.
‘I’veonlyput designs here that I think would suit you. It’s really flattering if you’re smaller on top – but you don’t have that issue; you have such a lovely figure – I chose it really because it will show off your arms and collarbones.’
They got stuck into a conversation about the practicalities. How Beth would like to wear it through the evening so would want to dance in it and have flat shoes underneath. Plus, would it look good with a jacket or shrug or bolero over the top if it got cold? So, they reconsidered the sweetheart neckline and the off-shoulder designs too. They discussed colours and materials and Nan supplied more tea and biscuits. Before they knew it, Thomas’s Christmas lights were flashing behind the curtains and they had a new final design mocked up, complete with all Beth’s measurements.
After Ash saw Beth to the door, she came back to find Nan looking over her sketch pad. ‘What d’you think?’
Nan looked up at her and smiled. ‘I think it’s lovely, Ashleigh. I’m very impressed. A fair bit of work there, but she’s been a good friend to you for a long time. She deserves it. Is she helping you with the cost of the materials?’
‘No. It’s my wedding gift to her.’
‘Let me help too then. It can be from both of us—’
‘You don’t have to do that, Nan.’
‘I want to.’ Nan handed the sketch book back to her. ‘Best tidy up your stuff – we don’t want Simon chewing on it in the middle of the night do we?’
Ashleigh thanked her and collected all her things together. She bounced up the stairs, full of eagerness to get to work. She needed to buy the material and get the pattern pieces made up and pinned to her mannequin to check it would work. Did she even have enough pins? It wasn’t a problem; she’d buy some more and a new piece of tailor’s chalk.
