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‘Wait, what?’ I spin around to face her. ‘That place with the risotto in the parmesan wheel?’
‘Yep, and speaking of the risotto, guess what one of the dishes is?’
‘Are you being serious?’
‘Yep.’
‘But I thought you booked the caterer ages ago.’
‘I did. But I also wanted to check it out before the wedding. If the restaurant sucked, I would have found someplace else. You’ve gotta have great food at your wedding.’
‘True,’ I reply. ‘Thank you, really.’ She shrugs?all part of the (free) service, I suppose. ‘And neither of you tell Jean-Luc this, but I am so looking forward to that risotto.’
Jaelee smirks. ‘Not the dancing or the cake?’
‘Or the vows?’ asks Lou.
‘Actually, those too. And the prosecco!’ Jae’s dimples flash and Lou tuts and shakes her head. I turn back towards the mirror and lift a hand mirror to see the back of my hair.
Jaelee leaps up. ‘Here, there’s just one …’ She smooths out some of the hair between my nape and the hair tie, then reaches around me to grab a hairpin, which she secures. She looks at me in the mirror and rests her hands on my shoulders. ‘Perfect.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Right. Thirty minutes and counting,’ she says, back in wedding planner mode. ‘I’m guessing you don’t need help with your lingerie so …’
‘No, been doing that by myself since I was three.’
‘And Sarah’s helping you with the dress?’ asks Lou.
‘That’s right.’
‘Well, then that’s our cue,’ says Jae. ‘Next time we see you, you’ll be walking down the aisle.’ My stomach flutters with nerves at her words and I remember what Lou said?to savour every moment. I wonder if she meant savouring the nervousness as well.
They leave, Lou throwing a proud Mama Lou look over her shoulder on the way out, and soon I am alone again, the bride to be.
I start adorning myself with jewellery, each piece with its own significance. A simple gold bracelet my parents gave me when I graduated from university, diamanté drop earrings—a find from Camden Market bought especially for today—and Grandma’s pearls. That’s my something old, something new, and something borrowed … what’s my something blue? Hmm. I’m not typically a superstitious person, but something blue wouldn’t go amiss right now. Maybe it would quell these rising nerves. I cast my eyes about the room as though the perfect blue item will pop and say hello. Just then, the door opens and Sarah peeks in. ‘Hey,’ she says.
‘Hello.’ She merges into the room, fully dressed and looking divine. ‘Wowser, you look incredible.’
‘Thank you.’ She does a little shoulder shimmy then spins.
I stand. ‘No, I mean it. That dress was pretty on the hanger, but … I have no other words.’ It’s a tea-length dress in rose-gold silk chiffon, nipped at the waist, with a wide bateau neckline and capped sleeves, and she’s towering over me in three-inch rose-gold sandals. Sarah grins at me. ‘Oh, you wanted me to put your hair up,’ I say. ‘We still have time.’
‘We don’t really?besides, it’s not often my curls behave themselves and I was thinking I would wear it down. What do ya reckon?’
‘I reckon,’ I say, bunging on my Aussie accent, ‘that I loike it, I loike it a lot.’
‘It’s different, I loike it,’ she retorts, and we spend a good thirty seconds in ‘Kath and Kim’ mode, nodding at each other and making faces like total dags.
‘Okay, enough of that,’ she says, suddenly all business. ‘Let’s get you into this dress.’
‘Right.’ I whip off my dressing gown.
‘Jesus. I didn’t realise I’d get dinner and a show!’
‘Don’t be a prude, Sarah. They’re just boobs.’ I take out the uplift bra that matches the seamless knickers I’m wearing, do up the clasp, and slip the straps over my shoulders.
‘Wow, your boobs look great in that.’
