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“Have a good afternoon,” Emma trills as she walks out the door.
The peace and quiet that descends upon the shop is amazing. I’ve spent all day since Joseph left me surrounded by noise. People arrived a few minutes after he left, their chatter filling the room before the rest of the sounds started—the constant humming of the sewing machines, the scrapes of the fabric cutters against the cutting boards, the never-ending questions about their fabrics, their measurements, the best way to hem their garments, and the thrilled claps when each person showed off their finished dresses.
For a second, I stand still and just let the silence wash over me. I’m used to the loud environments, but I enjoy those times when there is absolute silence, especially as they’re so few and far between. Then my phone beeps, breaking the peaceful moment.
I reach into my pocket, half expecting that it’ll be Joseph messaging. Probably taking the opportunity to back out of our planned evening. God knows why I even suggested it. My hand feels a little shaky as I unlock my phone and check the message. I give a little exhale of breath when I see it isn’t Joseph on the screen but Felix.
Felix: Wish me luck for date number seven. I’m nervous as hell, Dee. Have a fun afternoon! Catch up tomorrow over brunch? Love you!
I grin to myself and type a message back, confirming I’ll join him for brunch. I can’t wait to hear about his date with Caleb. I silently send a wish into the universe that his night will go well, that I’ll get to meet Caleb and he won’t break Felix’s heart. Felix is the best person I know, and I want him to be with somebody who deserves the love he gives. He’s got the biggest heart in the world, and he deserves the best.
I slip my phone back into my pocket and get busy tidying the shop. As much as I would love to leave everything behind until Monday morning, I know I should take care of it now. I’ve got three separate outfits to start working on in the week—two bridesmaid dresses and a wedding dress—and I know it’ll be easier to get started without having to wait until I’ve cleaned up.
I walk around the desks, sweeping the rest of the frayed fabric and loose threads from the table into the bin. I pack away the scissors, the bobbins, the threads, the seam rippers, the safety pins, leftover pieces of cotton, and discarded interfacing, before I switch off the sewing machines and the overlockers and the irons. After wiping down the tables, I work my way methodically through the shop until everything is perfectly neat and tidy. Satisfied everything looks perfect, I switch off the lights, grab my jacket, and head out of the shop, locking up.
Usually when I have a class on a Saturday, I take a walk around the local park, getting some fresh air and clearing my head. It’s almost like therapy, and I especially love it in the autumn months when I can kick my way through the fallen leaves, listening to the crunch underfoot. Today, though, a walk around the park is not on the cards, because I’ve got an afternoon tea with Verity and Maddie.
I head in the direction of the town centre, checking my watch again to try to estimate if I’ll be on time to the restaurant Verity picked. She’s nice, but she’s a stickler for punctuality. I shouldn’t complain, though. Verity practically saved me. When my father left my mother, it wasn’t for another woman, but he did move halfway across the country and disappeared out of my life for a long time. It was years before he met Verity, and longer still until they moved to my hometown and tentative conversations started up again. I was sixteen when they married, almost nineteen when they moved back, but she was a godsend.
Verity was the one who tried her best to build some bridges between me and my dad. She was the one who encouraged Dad to start paying for things like my bus pass and my phone bill—things she considered essential, but also things my mother couldn’t take away. I’m sure if she knew the true nature of my home life, she would have been kind enough to suggest I move in with them, even if it would have meant me relocating for my final school years. I don’t blame her for not knowing the truth about my life with my mother. I kept that darkness from everybody but Felix. Even his parents didn’t know the full extent of how bad things got. The only other person I told in detail was Joseph.
I’m sure there are plenty of tenuous and strained relationships between stepmother and stepdaughter, but mine with Verity is stable. That still doesn’t mean I want to risk being late to meet her.
I weave in and out of people who are finishing their Saturday shopping or heading out for an afternoon drink before heading for a meal or party, cutting across the centre section of the town to where the restaurant is situated. I push the restaurant door open and look around. It isn’t my favourite place to eat, nor would it be Verity’s, but it is Maddie’s, and she has both of us wrapped around her little finger. We’ve been here a few times before, at Maddie’s request. She loves the brightly coloured and patterned walls, the mismatched tablecloths, the funky glasses, and the energetic music that plays at a slightly too loud volume for my liking. As much as I’m looking forward to catching up with my family, I’m crossing my fingers that I don’t end up with a migraine from the music.
“Dee!” Maddie exclaims. She waves at me, and I can’t stop the grin that forms on my face. Maddie is always full of energy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her sit still or quietly. Even as a baby, she was always keen to be on the move and exploring things. Now, even though she’s still seated at the head of the table next to Verity, she’s squirming in her seat, looking like she’s going to explode with excitement.
“Lovely to see you, Delilah.” Verity smiles at me as I draw level with their table. She rises from her seat and gives me a quick and gentle hug. She’s always hugged like this, even when I first met her. When I was younger and a lot snarkier, I told Felix that she didn’t like to hug because she didn’t want to wrinkle her clothes. It took me a while to realise her delicate embrace was probably driven by the realisation and acceptance that I don’t particularly enjoy being embraced. An olive branch, even if I didn’t always recognise it at the time. Comfort in a hug without being too overwhelming.
“I love your dress,” I tell her as I pull away. She’s always exquisitely dressed.
I sit down at the table, next to Maddie and opposite Verity. “Your dress is beautiful, too, Maddie.” I lean over to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“How was your day?” Verity asks.
“Evidently less expensive than yours.” I laugh as I look at the bags that are propped on the seat next to her.
“Maddie needed new summer clothes.” She gives me a little shrug, and there’s a small part of me that feels envious about Maddie’s life and how different it is to mine. By the time I was her age, I was already dodging my mother’s boyfriends. Dad was long gone, and Mum was so far in a spiral that I forgot what she was like before he left. New clothes for the summer were few and far between for me at the same age. I can’t remember how old I was when Felix started giving me his old tee-shirts, just so I had something that fit.
“Looking forward to the end of school?” I look at Maddie.
She pulls a face, one that looks like I’ve just asked her the worst question in the world. There’s every chance she’s upset at the idea of being away from her friends for the summer. At her age, I used to dread the summer break, especially if Felix and his family were due to go on a long holiday.
There was one glorious year where Jennifer and Cain invited me to go with them. It was a two-week getaway to Cyprus, all expenses paid, and they even helped me sort out a passport, filling in the application on my behalf and paying the fees for me. I’m sure my mother only agreed so I was out of her hair, giving her free rein to see whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted. My presence was never enough to stop her seeing a new boyfriend, but she definitely preferred it when I was out of sight.
“No frowning, Madeline,” Verity chides. It makes me giggle. She means business with the full name.
“Do you know what you’re ordering?” I ask, changing the subject before Maddie can sulk or complain.
“I’m going to have the chicken burger with chips and a side of mac and cheese.” Maddie reels off her order with an excited little bounce in her seat.
“Maybe the carrot and cucumber sticks instead of either the chips or the mac and cheese,” Verity suggests.
Maddie pouts, but I give her a stern look. I’m used to Verity’s thoughts about food and drink, but I know it isn’t malicious. Maddie typically does her best to avoid fruit and vegetables. Verity is just built like that—making suggestions from a place of love. She’s always telling Felix that he needs to eat more vegetables too. He usually complies faster than Maddie.
“Fine, instead of the chips,” Maddie grumbles. I’m fairly sure she’s only conceded because she wants to convince Verity that we should have a dessert after the main course is finished.
Verity pulls her phone out of her bag and searches on the screen, no doubt shifting through the hundreds of apps and reward cards she has on there, looking for the online ordering for this restaurant. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a restaurant or shop where she hasn’t had some sort of app for it.
