‘What do you think?’ Kate asked Pearl as she tilted the full length cheval mirror at an angle so that Pearl could see how she looked in her new dress.
Vivian and Bel were also staring in admiration at Kate’s wonderful creation. For once Pearl did not look like mutton dressed as lamb, but, to everyone’s amazement, like a very attractive older woman. Kate had nipped the deep blue velvet dress in at the waist, but let it taper down to mid-calf length. In doing so, it had enhanced Pearl’s figure, making her look more slimline than scrawny.
Vivian had contributed to the transformation by working her magic on Pearl’s hair, twisting and pinning the dyed blonde locks into rolls around the side of her face, teasing out loose curls so that they fell down the nape of her neck.
‘Eee, Katie,’ Pearl said, her eyes glued to the apparition staring back at her in the mirror. ‘I feel like royalty.’
Bel looked at her mother and was surprised to see that her eyes looked wet. Never before had she seen her mother so genuinely happy and emotional. Out of habit, Bel nearly said something sarcastic, but she stopped herself. Today was about love. Not just her and Joe’s love, but the love they all had for each other. So, instead, Bel simply looked at her ma and smiled.
‘You’ve done a fantastic job, Kate, and you too, Vivian,’ Bel said, before adding a little awkwardly, ‘… and Ma … you look really nice.’
Pearl’s head swung around to look at her daughter. She had never once said anything even remotely complimentary to her at all – ever.
Kate moved away from the mirror and looked outside. The weather wasn’t particularly wedding-like, but it was November, after all. There were some dark clouds looming, but most important of all, it wasn’t raining.
‘All right, Pearl. I would get yourself away now – just in case it starts to spit. I don’t want that velvet getting as much as a drop of water on it.’
‘Good idea, pet. I’ll see you all there.’ Pearl looked across at her daughter. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t think of any words.
The little bell tinkled as Kate opened the door for Pearl.
As she walked out, Pearl turned. ‘Eee, Katie,’ she said, grabbing her hand and giving it a quick squeeze. ‘Thanks so much.’
And as she stepped out on to the pavement and started the quarter of a mile or so to the Registry Office, Pearl really did feel like she was Queen for the day.
‘And now for the bride,’ Kate exclaimed as she shut the door and turned to Bel, who was sitting on a high wooden stool by the large oblong sewing table. Vivian, standing behind her, had already got to work, rolling and pinning sections of Bel’s hair up on top of her head.
‘Let’s get the bride into her dress!’ Kate commanded. She hurried over to a metal rail at the side of the shop and pulled out the most beautiful ivory pink silk dress from the clothes carrier.
Bel felt a thrill of nerves as she got up from the stool, and both Kate and Vivian carefully held the dress above her head.
As Bel put her arms up and the dress just seemed to float down on to and around her, Bel felt all her nerves – and all her fleeting thoughts of the past and the future – disappear; the dress momentarily dissolving everything – apart from the here and now.
Kate then carefully pulled up the zip she had sewn into the side so that it was almost invisible, which had the effect of keeping the fall of the dress undisturbed. A subtle nip and tuck of fabric at the waist and a pussy bow neckline had the effect of showing off Bel’s full bosom, but without drawing too much attention to it.
Bel bent down and slipped on a pair of cream slingback shoes she had borrowed from Rosie. Then she straightened up, and stood forward.
‘Go on, give us a twirl,’ Vivian begged. She was mesmerised by the sight of this beautiful woman who could easily give the likes of Lana Turner and Bette Davis a run for their money.
Responding to Vivian’s plea Bel stepped into the middle of the small shop and did a little twirl. The movement caused the lower part of the dress, with its irregular hem, to move around her legs like gentle waves.
Bel looked stunning. The pastel pink of the fabric perfectly complemented her pale skin. She looked classy, yet demure. Bride-like, but also a little seductive.
‘Excellent,’ Kate said, scrutinising every square inch of fabric.
Bel sat back down on the stool to allow Vivian to finish her hair. She had already created a row of loose, victory rolls, positioning them so that they sat on the top of her head; now she carefully eased out two thick strands of curly blonde hair so that they framed Bel’s face, and in doing so created a slightly wanton effect.
‘And …’ Kate said, turning to the garment bag hanging from the rail, ‘to copy one of Lily’s favourite expressions … for la pièce de résistance.’
As she parted the opening of the cotton bag, she reached up to retrieve the fascinator which should have been hanging from the middle of one of the hangers – but it wasn’t there. Thinking it must have dropped to the bottom of the bag, she bent her head down to look.
Not finding it, Kate presumed it must have become entangled in her own wedding outfit, so she pulled her dress out, shook it gently – then more violently.
‘Oh, no –’ Kate’s face went ashen. ‘I don’t believe it!’
She flung her dress on the sewing table and patted it down, praying that it was there. ‘I don’t believe it!’ she repeated, as she started scrabbling around in the dress bag.
‘What’s wrong, Kate?’ Vivian asked. She had her lacquer out and was creating a mist around both Bel and herself.
‘The fascinator. It’s not here! I must have left it … or dropped it. Oh my God. This is a disaster!’
Bel stood up and went over to a panic-stricken Kate. She had never seen her in such a state. ‘Hey, Kate, don’t worry. It’s not the end of the world. I can get married without it.’
‘No, you can’t! The dress is incomplete without it,’ Kate said, tears starting to build up in her eyes. There was no arguing with her. ‘I can run back and get it.’
Kate sounded desperate as she looked up at the clock on the wall. But it was now nearly quarter to one. George was due at any moment. The Registry Office was booked for one.
‘There’s not enough time, Kate,’ Bel said. ‘Please, don’t get upset. Look at this amazing dress.’ She looked down at the most sublimely beautiful dress she had ever seen – never mind worn.
Vivian was quiet. She knew how much time, energy and effort Kate had put into the headpiece, and so she knew, more than anyone, just how totally gutted Kate was feeling.
Kate started to look frantically around the shop, knowing deep down that it was not there but forcing herself to believe that it might somehow suddenly reappear.
Just then the little brass bell tinkled as the door opened.
It was Maisie.
And in her raised hand she was holding the coral pink fascinator.
‘I think you forgot something, Kate!’ she said, purposely sounding breathless as if she had run all the way from West Lawn, when in fact she had managed to catch a taxi as soon as she’d turned on to Tunstall Vale. After being dropped off halfway down Holmeside, she had waited a little while in one of the shop doorways across the road from the Maison Nouvelle. She had seen Pearl leave – and had then given it a good five minutes before blustering into the shop.
Kate stood stock-still and raised her hands to her cheeks.
‘Oh my! Maisie! Thank goodness! Where did you find it?’ The words of gratitude spilled out.
‘On the stairs,’ Maisie told her, her breath now sounding more normal, ‘you must have dropped it on your way out.’
‘Oh Lord! Thank goodness you saw it!’ Kate was beside herself. ‘Thank you thank you thank you thank you! You’ve saved the day. Gosh, you must have practically sprinted here to get it to us on time. I can’t thank you enough.’
‘Oh, you’ve nothing to thank me for, Kate.’ Maisie looked across at Vivian, who smiled back at her friend. ‘I knew how much this meant to you.’
Vivian let out a huge sigh of relief. She felt almost as elated as Kate. The whole bordello knew just about every stitch of the fascinator now held aloft in Maisie’s hand. If Bel hadn’t got married with it adorning her very pretty head, she honestly thought Kate would have gone into some kind of designer mourning.
‘Can I do the honours?’ Maisie asked Kate as she walked across to Bel and raised the fascinator like a crown ready to be placed on the head of the bride-to-be.
‘Oh, yes, please do!’ Kate would have agreed to anything at that moment, so ecstatic was she about the reappearance of the headpiece.
Maisie smiled at Bel as she carefully placed it on top of her golden locks, making sure not to spoil Vivian’s handiwork.
As Maisie adjusted the fascinator Bel realised that she and Maisie were more or less the same height. It was the first time Bel had seen Maisie up close and she realised not just how striking she really was, but also how brown her skin was – much more than it had seemed when they had been introduced in the shop a few weeks ago.
As Maisie stood back to check the headpiece, Kate clapped her hands together lightly, and declared, ‘Perfect!’
Bel turned to look at herself in the mirror and it was then she understood why her ma was feeling like royalty – for Bel had to admit that she felt like a princess. Her wedding day was really starting to feel rather magical.
‘Kate, you’d better get your dress on,’ Vivian cajoled her. ‘George’ll be here any minute.’
The words were barely out of her mouth when the door opened, the bell rang out, and George entered.
Quickly Kate whipped her dress off the sewing table, where it had been tossed and patted down in their desperate search, before darting behind the curtain panel and into the back room to get changed.
‘Thank goodness, you made it, Maisie,’ George said. ‘Lily’s been worried sick you wouldn’t get here in time to give Bel her tiara.’ George looked at Bel and smiled.
‘It’s not a tiara, George,’ Vivian reprimanded. ‘It’s called a fascinator.’
George guffawed. ‘Well, whatever it is,’ he paused, ‘it looks wonderful.’ Then, making a show of being totally bowled over by the vision of the bride in front of him, he added, ‘Or should I say that it is Bel – the bride-to-be – that looks rather stunning.’
Bel blushed. She had never met George before, but he was just as she had imagined.
‘Right,’ he said, putting his stern voice on, ‘your carriage awaits, and …’ he looked at Kate and smiled as she slipped back through into the shop, now wearing the black dress that he knew had once been Lily’s, ‘the rest of you need to get to the Registry Office – pronto!’
‘Oh, I’m not going, George,’ Maisie said, quickly making her way to the door as if to leave.
‘Oh, no, please don’t!’ Bel pleaded. Her voice had gone a little shaky with nerves. ‘Won’t you come to the wedding? The ceremony itself won’t be long, and there’ll be a little party afterwards at our local – a buffet and a fair amount of alcohol?’
‘I’d love to!’ Maisie said with a wide smile. She looked at Vivian, whose face had instantly lit up at the prospect of her best mate accompanying her.
‘All good,’ George said, looking anxiously at his fob watch. ‘Now, you young fillies need to shake a leg. Go – be gone!’ he said, opening the door and shepherding them out. As he did so Kate pressed the key to the shop into his hand and was about to say something, but was beaten to it.
‘Yes, my dear,’ George sighed, ‘don’t worry. I will make sure the shop’s all secure. Now go, the lot of you. Scram!’
As Kate, Vivian and Maisie started hurrying down the street, Bel waited on the pavement while George locked up.
She watched the women and smiled.
She was just walking over to the MG, which had been parked outside the shop and was decorated with a thick white ribbon, when Maisie turned back and shouted up the street.
‘Oh … and “Happy Wedding Day”, Isabelle!’
Bel felt herself stiffen. She hated being called by her full name. Only her mother called her Isabelle and that was only because she knew it was guaranteed to wind her up.
As George opened the car door, giving Bel his hand so she could carefully climb in, she suddenly felt a little perturbed by Maisie’s impromptu appearance, which was stupid as she had saved the day and brought the fascinator.
George manoeuvred himself into the driving seat, placing his walking stick on the back seat, and revved the engine. As he started to pull away the first few spots of rain started to fall from the darkening clouds.
‘Good job the old gal’s not an open-top,’ he said, as he began his detour around the town centre making sure Bel would be fashionably late by just five minutes.