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‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For helping.’ It almost hurt, saying the words, but she felt a sense of relief when they were out, as if she had been holding onto them for a long, long time.
Her mother’s blue eyes widened. ‘Of course I want to help. My baby, getting married. And there is so much to do. Hawksley may be grand but I’ve seen more up-to-date ruins.’
‘Part of it is ruined.’ Daisy was surprised at how protective she felt towards the stately building.
Her mother gave her a wry glance. ‘I mean the house part. Really, darling, it’s a major project. Some of the rooms have been untouched for years.’
‘I just wish you had checked with Seb before organising the cleaners.’ Only her mother could get an army of cleaners, decorators and handymen organised in under two hours. It had been a shock to arrive back from their morning appointments to find the car park full of various trade vans, the house overrun by ladders, buckets and pine scents.
‘Most of the family will be staying in the house after all. Updating and decorating are your preserve, darling, but cleaning and touching up before the big day is very much mine. Consider it my wedding present to you both.’
Daisy tried not to sigh. Seb employed one cleaner who was responsible for the offices as well as the house and she barely made a dent in the few areas he used. It would be nice to see the main house brought up to hygienic standards: the paintwork fresh, the wood polished and the sash windows gleaming. At the same time it was so typical of her mother to wave her magic wand with extravagant generosity, to think that money would solve the problem regardless of how it made the recipients feel.
There had been a bleak look on Seb’s face when he surveyed the workers. He had withdrawn into his study pleading work and Daisy hadn’t felt able to follow him in there.
The car drew up outside the iconic golden stone building that housed Rafferty’s, London’s premier designer store.
‘It’s simply too late for a gown to be made for you. I am owed a lot of favours but even I can’t work miracles. But then I remembered what a fabulous collection Nina keeps here at Rafferty’s. She has promised that she can have any gown altered to fit you in the timescale. Luckily I had my pick of the new spring/summer collections in Fashion Week last year so there will be something suitable for me.’ Her mother sounded vaguely put upon, as if she were being expected to put an outfit together from a duster and an old feather boa, not premier one of the several haute couture outfits that had been made specifically for her.
Daisy felt the old shiver of excitement as they exited the car and walked into the famous domed entrance hall. It was once said you could buy anything and become anybody at Rafferty’s—as long as you had the money. Would she become the bride of her dreams?
They were met at the door and whisked upstairs to the bridal department, an impressive gallery decorated in Rafferty’s distinctive art deco style. The entrance to the department, reached through an archway, was open to the public and sold an array of bridal accessories including lingerie, shoes, tiaras and some ready-to-wear bride and bridesmaids dresses. But it was the room beyond, tactfully hidden behind a second, curtained arch, where the real magic lay. This room was accessed by appointment only. Today, Daisy and her mother were the only customers.
It needed little decoration and the walls were painted a warm blush white, the floor a polished mahogany. The sparkle and glamour came from the dresses themselves; every conceivable length, every shade of white from ice through to deep cream, a few richer colours dotted around: a daring red, rich gold, vibrant silver, pinks and rich brocades.
Daisy was glad of the cosy-looking love seats and chaises scattered about. So much choice was making her head whirl.
‘Champagne?’ Nina, the department manager who had been dressing the city’s brides for nearly forty years, came over with a bottle of Dom Perignon, chilled and opened.
‘No, thanks.’ Daisy thought rapidly. ‘I want a clear head. There’s so much choice.’
‘A large glass for me, please.’ Violet walked in, slightly out of breath. ‘I sense it’s going to be a long afternoon. Rose says hi, don’t make her wear frills and definitely not shiny satin.’
‘They’re all so beautiful.’ Their mother was already halfway down a glass of champagne, a wistful look in her eyes as she fingered the heavy silks, slippery satins and intricate laces. ‘Obviously I wouldn’t have changed my wedding to your father for the world. It was very romantic, just us, in a tiny chapel. I was barefoot with flowers in my hair. But I did miss out on all this...’ Her gaze encompassed the room. ‘Which is why, Daisy darling, I am determined that no matter how whirlwind your wedding, no matter how little time we have, you are going to have the day you always dreamed of.’
