Page 65 of The Wedding Dress Repair Shop
The household went to bed early, but I did not. I put a bolster in the middle of my bed and drew the covers over it, so it seemed as if I was still asleep. Then, wearing the plain bonnet, dark gown, pelisse and cloak in which I had arrived at Lady Bugle’s, I crept through the house, unlocked the front door and stepped nervously into the street. It was not an hour at which any respectable woman would have been abroad, especially alone, but to my great relief, the streets were quiet, until I reached the bustle of the coaching yard and claimed my seat inside the Mail, packed in between a fat countrywoman and a desiccated spinster with a disapproving air.
But I did not care, for, with shouts and the sound of a horn, the coach rattled over the cobbles and we were off!
22
Highly Strung
Before dinner I had a long and interesting three-way email conversation with Honey and George, when she told him of her determination to open the museum much earlier than she’d originally intended.
‘The building itself was in good repair, and the redecorating, rewiring, new plumbing and having the parquet floors sanded and sealed has taken less time than I thought it would.’
‘You do seem to have worked wonders in a short space of time,’ George replied. ‘Although there are still the display cabinets to be delivered and fitted and all the bridal dresses to be carefully examined, catalogued and properly displayed. You must give Garland sufficient time for that.’
‘I’ll begin evaluating them the moment my workroom is set up,’ I wrote back. ‘I’ve got a big cutting table and new workbenches arriving in the next two days, so everything should be ready for Monday. I can’t wait!’
Honey remarked that when the Rosa-May material was returned to her at the end of the month, it would be ready to go straight out on display and George immediately demandedreassurances that it would be displayed in the perfect condition in which it left his care.
‘Of course it will!’ I assured him.
Honey put George’s mind at rest on the subjects of heating, humidity and light, then went on: ‘Setting up the Rosa-May collection and the Bloody Brides room will be our first priorities.’
‘What Bloody Brides?’ demanded George, baffled, and then she had to explain about Amy Weston and the bloodstained dress.
‘I can see the publicity value, and that you’d like to get the museum open before the anniversary of her disappearance,’ he replied, ‘but I wouldn’t want to see the opening rushed to the detriment of some of the older and – to me, at least – more interesting costumes.’
‘I’ll have a realistic idea of when we will be ready to open within a few days,’ Honey said. ‘I’ll chase up Priceless Interiors for delivery dates of the display units. By then, Garland will have had a chance to make a preliminary assessment of the collection, so we can order the mannequins. After all,’ she added, ‘we don’t need to put all the dresses on display at the start. It can be a work in progress. Once I have all the information I need, I’ll pick an opening day and make it happen!’
I was sure she would, too.
‘You will be very busy, Garland, because each dress will need careful examination and cataloguing, as well as any necessary repairs carrying out,’ said George. ‘But you can call on me for any advice you might need.’
I thanked him and said there were so many things I hadn’t thought of until I got here, like information boards, leaflets and guidebooks.
‘But I’ll write those, once you’ve added all the interestingdetails to the catalogue,’ Honey said. ‘Anyway, George, I’ll let you know when I’ve settled on an opening date, so you can put it in your diary, because I want you to be there. I might have a pre-opening party in the museum foyer for special guests before the doors open to the public.’
‘Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ George assured her.
‘It’s settled then. You can stay at Pelican House again. I have a friend here on a long visit, who cooks like an angel, so the catering will be a bit less slapdash than on your previous visits.’
‘Dear Honey, where the company is excellent, I never notice what I’m eating,’ he said gallantly.
*
I had lasagneà lafreezer for dinner, followed by the last of Viv’s muffins, and by the time I’d cleared away I was suddenly swamped with tiredness.
I sat in my armchair with my feet up on an old leather pouffe and the laptop on my knees, and began to read the next pages of Rosa-May’s journal.
The room was warm and quiet, except for the odd hubble-bubble noise Golightly was making as he slept, and soon the crabbed, small handwriting began to waver and blur before my tired eyes. After a while I put an old romcom on the telly instead and dozed happily in front of that, until, to my extreme surprise and discomfort, Golightly woke up and decided to arrange himself on my knees, all bony angles. He did make the odd noise I’d come to recognize as his purr once he’d settled himself to his satisfaction, so this might be a sign of affection … On the other hand, he might just see me as an alternative cat bed.
Whichever it was, I felt strangely reluctant to dislodge him, even after the film finished, but fortunately he eventually took himself off and I could get up, my legs numb, and go to bed.
When I was drawing my bedroom curtains, I noticed a light on in a room high up at the back of Pelican House, where a window jutted out over the garden. I felt certain it was Honey, writing away into the night.
*
There were no unwanted texts, emails or missed calls when I remembered to switch on my phone next morning, but in the early hours, presumably after she’d finished her writing session, Honey had emailed across an update of the catalogue she’d compiled of all the wedding dresses and any paperwork that had come with them, this time with their wedding disaster stories written out in full as if they were chapters in her next non-fiction book, which they possibly might be.
She wrote in the email:
