Page 11 of From Scotland with Love

“Did you not think our names were a bit, well, strange for round here?” Tammy looked over to him in disbelief.

“I never really thought about it. But it’s cool, I like it. It must have been very special to your dad, I mean for him to name you all after something he loved.”

The girls smiled at one another, it was special, but it just went to show how eccentric their father had been too.

“I think we need some Dolly!” Tammy announced and the first chords of Jolene played out over the speakers.

“Class! I love this one,” Alan said with enthusiasm. “But not one of ye are called Dolly? I thought she is the queen of country?!”

“God, can you imagine if dad called one of us Dolly?” Lori laughed.

“I’d die of embarrassment!” Tammy put her hand over her eyes.

“Me too!” Jean shook her head slowly, and then all three girl’s launched back into a fresh sing-along without a moments hesitation.

Once they had arrived in the city, the entire morning was spent sitting in bridal shops and watching Tammy try on dress after dress. Lori made the most of her time and started scribbling down notes on all the tasks still to be done. Shouting to her entourage over the changing room partition, Tammy divulged that they had booked the church and the village hall for the reception, but that was about as much organising as she had achieved, it seemed. But that was alright, thought Lori, she knew this was her part to play. She sat perched on a sofa in the corner, planning in the new diary she had just bought, intermittently giving opinions on various dresses and accessories. Jean sat next to her and worked through a huge bundle of students homework she had taken with her on the journey. Tammy had ordered the shop assistant to fill their glasses with Prosecco, much to her elder sister’s objections, but both eventually accepted the gesture after gentle threats were made.

“It’s my wedding! We need to have fun!” demanded Tammy from the changing room, as she tried on her twentieth dress.

Lori and Jean packed away their papers, clinked glasses and gave in to the bubbles. Lori took her first proper look around. The shop was lined with various white dresses; tulles, silks, satins, and sequins all draped on rails waiting for their own special day. On the back wall behind the counter, was the bridesmaids dresses in a range of colours all clustered together and shining like jewels. Lori and Jean kept looking over, pointing to the styles they liked. But as Tammy was the bride-to-be, they waited with anticipation for her to select the wedding dress before a colour was allocated for their own. Tammy emerged in a beautiful lace off-the-shoulder ivory gown, with tulle poking out underneath the delicate splits in the skirt.

“It’s gorgeous Tam, it’s the best one yet!” Jean slowly walked around her and touched the trim on the back of her bodice.

Tammy admired herself in the mirror, smoothing her hands down the fabric and over her flat stomach, locking eyes with Lori at that moment. She looked away quickly, and paced around the room, gliding elegantly like a contestant in a Miss World competition.

“You’re right, I think it’s the one!” She turned to them both, and the shop assistant wasted no time in snapping into action.

“Delightful style,” she remarked, and lightly touched the tiny buttons at the back with her extremely long fingernails. The woman’s blond hair was piled high on her head in a bun with cat’s eyes drawn on her eyelids and thick foundation heavily applied elsewhere. “It suits your skin tone too, just stunning.” She stood back and looked Tammy up and down with approval. “And did I hear you wanted to take it?”

Tammy gazed at herself in the mirror once again and agreed. Lori was amazed at how quickly Tammy had made the decision, she was pleased how things were coming along. If her sister was going to keep this focused, then hopefully planning the rest of the proceedings should go far more smoothly than she had anticipated after all. Here’s hoping this wedding isn’t a disaster.

The shop assistant trotted behind Tammy back to the changing rooms to help her out of the dress, and the two sisters filled up their glasses again with the fast-disappearing Prosecco.

“I’ll be marking the rest of this homework tomorrow, I think!” Jean clinked Lori’s glass and they drank some more, until the blonde assistant came out with wedding dress draped over both arms, and packed it carefully at the front counter. Soon after, she came back into the room holding various coloured gowns, and Tammy emerged from the cubicle, evidently pleased with herself, and pointed out the first dresses she wanted them to try on.

The two sisters tried on hot pink off the shoulder dresses, which prompted Lori to pull her hair up in a high ponytail: “I need a scrunchie!”, then dramatically pulled the curtain open belting out a Madonna number and making vogue-type hand gestures around her face.

“I hate pink!” Jean pulled her curtain, standing awkwardly with hunched shoulders and a crumpled face.

“Oh! I like it!” Tammy’s eyes widened.

Jean looked down at herself with disgust. “I feel like a tart. A strawberry tart!” She cautiously looked over to Lori who joyously danced and gyrated on the spot, lost in her own 1980s music video.

“OK Jean, I don’t want a surly bridesmaid! Try on the next one!” Tammy waved her hand and sank back on the sofa, clutching her phone. “Oh, girl’s - Alan’s just mentioned he’s got a match on later, so we can’t be too long!”

“Does he still play shinty?” Lori asked over the curtain, as her thoughts filtered back to a simpler time when she used to go and watch the local shinty matches. The principal draw for Lori however, involved lusting after all the strong boys in high school, and in particular, the broad-shouldered Callum Macrae. Athletic, but sturdy and strong, and with calf muscles to die for, Lori had been attracted to him almost from day one, and to her amazement, he had liked her too. She had experienced a lot that last summer of high school, including losing her virginity to him. Lori reflected on their hot nights together on the beach, wrapped in a blanket as he kissed every part of her body, taking her in like she was ice-cream on a spoon.

“Aye, I love my shinty men!” Tammy sighed.

Lori shook off the sexual distractions of her youth and squeezed herself into the next dress, only able to zip it up halfway before the fabric couldn’t stretch anymore. She gasped in horror at her reflection: the bright lime-yellow made her look frighteningly like a luminous stuffed sausage.

Jean shouted over the curtain: “Didn’t you like your shinty men too Lo? If I remember right, you used to stand at the pitch thirsting after Callum Macrae!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I did nothing of the sort!” Lori tried her best to sound nonchalant, all the while trying to zip up the ghastly dress. She had never really been overweight, just an ordinary standard size, but today she bulged in all sorts of areas she hadn’t realised she had; rolls of fat seemed to be exposed everywhere in this particular selection of garment. She struggled again with the zip and bumped into the dressing room wall, the Prosecco now certainly taking effect, and making her lean against it in one last attempt to squeeze into the dress, but to no avail. She saw herself in the mirror and almost gasped: her hair was still scraped back in a 1980s high side greasy ponytail and her cheeks were flushed. After her rush getting ready this morning, she should have reconsidered washing her hair: especially in this harsh light, she looked old, sweaty and unhealthy.

Her sister made hooting noises from the sofa. “That’s not what I mind, Miss Robertson! You used to go and watch him when you thought no one saw you!” Tammy added: “Like, behind the bike sheds when you’d cop a look like some weird stalker!”

“Have you changed into the dress yet Jean, I don’t wanna show until you do!” Lori wiped her eyes, noticing mascara had smudged over the tops of her eyelids, and somehow ended up making it look worse, smudging it under her eyes too.