Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ashleigh – 34 Tilgate Road, Brighton
The sewing machine made its reassuring whirring sound, only interrupted by the moments Ashleigh took her foot off the pedal. It was the perfect white noise to stop her from thinking. From overhearing the noises from next door. That tell-tale slam of the front door that would mean Olivier had gone. She’d even encouraged Nan to watch a marathon of her Elvis films in the living room, letting his crooning inGI BluesandJailhouse Rockfill in the gaps when Ash had to pause to repin the material, or to grab herself a sip of water because she was parched.
Her eyes stung from the fact that she wasn’t blinking because she was staring at the neat lines of stitches as she eased the satin material carefully under the guide. And because she hadn’t been able to sleep. Every noise had made her picture Olivier in bed only a few feet away on the other side of the wall. Sleeping peacefully or tossing and turning like her? Or gone already?
‘Crap.’ Her concentration slipped and the satin had ruffled up under the stampeding needle. She swore some more as she manually wound the needle up and flicked the lever to lift the foot. She pulled the material gently away, the thread luckily unravelling cleanly and then she snipped it free and examined the damage properly.
It was in a little bunch, but it wasn’t too bad. She took a deep breath and reached for her stitch unpicker, tugging the little hook through the knot of bunched-up thread. And then it snagged and a hole appeared.
‘Fuck, fuck.’ She put it all down on the table and pushed it away. It was all wrong for her to be making a wedding dress when she was feeling this dead inside, her chest like some burnt-out shell. She was probably stitching a bad luck curse into it.
Nope. That was superstitious rubbish. She just needed a break because she’d been working since she got up.
Ash opened the fridge and was faced with a tub of the assorted bits of chocolate that Olivier had kept dropping off. She was torn between the desire to dump it all in the bin or shovel it all into her mouth in one go and swallow it down. Enjoy a rush of sweet pleasure followed by the hollowness of regret.
She slammed the door shut, the bottles on top rattling, and pressed her head against the cold white metal, closing her eyes. The sadness pressed in closer.
She had to get her head together and get the dress finished. She wanted Beth to love it. She was so happy for her friend. Nick was wonderful and Beth deserved all that happiness and…and…
Why didn’tshe? What had she done wrong?
Her shoulders ached, her neck ached, her jaw ached as she tried to hold back the tears. Crying about it would be stupid and pointless. And yet, here she was. A loud sob erupted from her as she went to take a breath and she clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to contain it.
Little claws skittering on the tiles told her she’d been too slow. Simon was there, alert, bumping his head against her leg. She looked down and saw his big brown eyes staring back at her, with all their doggy concern, and she folded like a torn-down paper chain, collapsing into the same spot on the floor, cross-legged so he could crawl into her lap. He licked at her face and she half laughed for a moment, before the tears started falling again. She wrapped her arms around his little body, burying her face in his short fur, and he just let her hold him. Wonderful, kind-hearted dog. The best gift she’d ever been given.
‘What’s going on? What are you doing rolling around on the floor like that?’ Nan’s brisk voice cut into her fog of tears.
Ash gulped down hard, fighting for breath and lifted her head.
‘Goodness, Ashleigh, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ Ash scrubbed at her cheeks but they just kept falling, like a hose that had been left on and she couldn’t find the tap to turn it off.
‘Clearly it’s something.’ Her nan stood over her with her hands on her hips. ‘Come on, child, get up and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
Yes. Right. Because a cup of tea would fix everything wouldn’t it? All it did was make her remember when Olivier had offered to make her one when she was in shock, and he’d been holding her close.
‘Don’t worry, I’m fine.’ Ash kissed Simon once on his head and stood up, brushing dog hair off herself.
‘No, you’re not. Is this because of your mother?’ Nan’s voice turned grim as she flicked on the kettle.
‘Not really. Why would it be? I’m used to her never bothering with me. Why should she change the habit of a lifetime, hey?’
‘Well, quite.’ Nan threw the teabags in their mugs with a sharp flick of her wrist. ‘So, what’s the matter?’
‘I’m screwing up Beth’s dress.’
‘Hmmph, let me see?’ Nan came over, making sure her hands were clean before she picked it up. She tutted. ‘Satin is very unforgiving unfortunately. You bought enough to redo the piece?’ Ash nodded. ‘Then no point crying over it. You just take a break and then I’ll help.’
‘I can’t afford to take a break.’ Ashleigh slumped down in the nearest chair.
‘If you don’t take a break, you’ll make more mistakes and that’ll be worse. We’ll get it fixed.’
‘You don’t need to help me. You’re supposed to be resting.’
‘I’m fine—’
