‘And if you do, I will take you to an industrial tribunal,’ Sophy countered, but Phoebe just scoffed and then with her hand at the small of Sophy’s back frogmarched her to one of the cubicles at the back of the shop.
Once the chintzy curtain was shielding her from view, Sophydidsmell the black dress. It smelled all right. Clean. Not like it was going to give her a bad case of scabies. Cress had once bought a sixties coat that smelled so badly of BO that nothing could get rid of the stench. Not Febreeze, or a fresh breeze (she’d hung it on the washing line for a week), not even several delicate cycles in the washing machine; in the end, she’d had to bin it.
Sophy pulled off her very on-trend and also directional black trapeze dress and, without much enthusiasm, wiggled into the black fifties dress. The bodice was very tight. So tight that she couldn’t even pull it down over her boobs – and it wasn’t like she had that much in the boob department that it had ever been an issue before.
‘How are you getting on in there?’ came Phoebe’s querulous cry and then, to Sophy’s horror, she was yanking back the curtain to reveal Sophy half in and half out of the black dress.
‘Get out!’ Sophy shrieked. ‘Do you do this to your customers?’
Phoebe didn’t get out. ‘Side zip,’ she said obliquely.
‘What?’
‘Must I do everything myself?’ Then Phoebe wasn’t getting out but approaching Sophy so she could take a firm hold of her in one hand and a firm hold of the dress in the other. ‘Side zip.’
Suddenly the bodice was loose enough that Phoebe could tug it into place and then zip it back up.
‘Oh! Weird.’ Sophy turned to look at herself in the mirror and, though her face was pink and her hair was escaping from her ponytail, it pained her to admit that the dress fitted perfectly. As if it had been made for her.
‘I knew you had a waist,’ Phoebe announced with great satisfaction. ‘But FYI, you’re definitely wearing the wrong- size bra. That one is too big for you in the cup. It’s not supporting you properly and you’d find that—’
‘Shut up!’ Sophy gritted, because she was a 34C and had been since she was fifteen.
‘I’m beinghelpful.’
‘No wonder we don’t have that many customers,’ Sophy replied and, as soon as she said it, they heard the bell above the door tinkle and then a familiar voice…
‘Where is everybody? It’s second Friday, kids. Johnno’s here to take you to the pub!’
Chapter Seven
Phoebe left the changing cubicle without a backward glance, Beatrice bustled out of the office, Chloe and Coco Chanel came tripping down the stairs so they could all greet Johnno like he was just back from an expedition to the Antarctic.
‘We were about to officially declare you a missing person!’ Phoebe told him, leaning in as Johnno wrapped an arm round her shoulders.
‘Had to go and see a man about a dog, didn’t I?’ was the very predictable reply.
‘But you were gone weeks!’
‘Had to see several men about several dogs,’ Johnno improvised. What hair he had left wasn’t pink any more but a bright orange, which clashed with his ruddy complexion.
‘You know Coco Chanel prefers to be an only dog,’ Beatrice giggled and then Johnno let Phoebe go so he could scoop up the stand-offish pooch and press enthusiastic kisses to her grumpy face, while she struggled and squirmed. He finally let her go so she could jump up on one of the pink sofas and glare at the assembled company reproachfully.
‘So, you sold lots of dresses then? Freddy said that Reenie quit. That’s a bugger.’
‘We’ve got a Reenie replacement starting on Monday,’ Phoebe said, as she walked over to the desk. ‘Cressida. I think she’s going to be amazing. Somehow Sophy managed to find her.’ She shrugged to convey that she still wasn’t over the fact that Sophy had been their saviour in their hour of need, and that if Sophy was related to Cressthen maybe Sophy wasn’t as bad as she’d previously thought.
‘Sophy?’ Johnno queried and Sophy, who was peering round the side of the changing room curtain because she hadn’t been able to get herself out of the black dress, felt her insides plummet. Had Johnno, her actual biological father, forgotten who she was? ‘You mean my Sophy? I hope you’ve been treating my girl nicely, Pheebs.’
Both Phoebe and Sophy humph’ed at that, then Johnno caught sight of her. ‘Ah, Soph, there you are!’
‘Yes, remember when you offered me a job? I mean, I’ve been working here for the last two weeks, so…’
‘Yeah, yeah, of course,’ Johnno hurriedly assured her, which didn’t make Sophy feel any better. ‘Saving up so you can go back to my ancestral homelands. God, that dress looks beaut on you, darling.’
Sophy had ventured out of the changing room but now she wanted to retreat as Chloe and Beatrice, and even Coco Chanel, turned to stare at her.
‘That dressdoeslook amazing on you,’ Chloe gasped. She sounded quite surprised.
