Page 40 of The Vintage Dress Shop in Primrose Hill
‘I don’t do cleavage,’ the third member of the wedding party, a strapping blonde Valkyrie, all but wailed.
‘And I don’t do sleeveless.’
‘And no one should do cleavageandlegs. We’ve been through this, Ingrid,’ British Beyoncé said sternly.
Dealing with Inge and her bridesmaids was way above Sophy’s pay grade. ‘Well, why don’t you go up to the atelier where Phoebe, our manageress, is waiting for you?’ Sophy rubbed her hands in glee, then immediately felt guilty. But not that guilty. ‘I’m sure she’ll havelots of opinions about what you should wear.’
They trooped up the stairs as Chloe, pink-cheeked and panting, emerged from the cubicle with the customer who was finally zipped up in the silver wiggle dress but didn’t seem very happy about it.
‘You look gorgeous,’ Sophy said, though the customer was even more pink and panting than Chloe. ‘Shall I ring that up for you?’
‘You’re going to have to because I can’t get out of it,’ came the mournful reply. ‘I’m going to spend the rest of my life in this dress, even though I can’t even get the skirt hitched up so I can go to the loo. What am I going to do?’
‘Zip won’t budge,’ Chloe groaned, hurling herself down on one of the sofas. ‘We might have to cut her out of it.’
‘But…’ Sophy cringed.
‘Yes, and then Phoebe will cut me. Probably use Cress’s sharpest pinking shears to do it.’ Chloe flung her arms over her face. It was clear that she was all about the problem rather than the solution.
‘Let me have a look,’ Sophy said, ushering the customer back into the cubicle, although she could only walk by taking tiny mincing steps. The woman braced herself with forearms against the wall.
‘I know I shouldn’t have had a curry on Saturday night,’ she sighed. ‘I’m a lardy lady who’s going to have to be cut out of a dress.’
‘We’ll have no talk like that,’ Sophy said as she peered at the long back zipper. ‘It’s the dress’s fault, not yours. It’s a pretty unforgiving fit and who knows how old this zip is? It’s older than both of us, that’s for sure.’
‘That’s really nice of you to say but I didn’t just order a tandoori chicken and rice, there was lamb bhuna and peshwari naan and a mango lassi…’
‘You’re actually making me really hungry.’ Sophy took hold of the tag on the zip and gave it an experimental tug. ‘Ah! It’s moving— Oh…’
It got halfway down, right where the woman’s hips flared out, and stuck fast.
‘Double Spanx-ed and my arse is still enormous.’
‘What’s your name?’ Sophy asked, because this was a very intimate situation. It was a first-name kind of situation.
‘Louise; pleased to meet you.’
‘Hi Louise, I’m Sophy. I would shake your hand but I don’t want you to make any sudden movements.’ She patted Louise on the back in what she hoped was a comforting manner. ‘Just wait here. I’ll be back in a tick.’
‘I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to have to start charging me rent.’
Chloe was still lolling about on the sofa in defeat. ‘Are you going to get the scissors?’ she asked fearfully.
‘Scissors and Phoebe is an absolute last resort, right?’
‘Yes! I’m too young to die.’
Sophy glanced around the shop for inspiration. ‘Is there something we could put on the zip to lubricate it? It’s not caught on any material; it’s just really stiff.’
‘If we stain the dress with something greasy, then Phoebe will still cut us,’ Chloe hissed with a terrified look at the stairs as if she expected Phoebe to suddenly appear, like she had some kind of bat sonar that instantly alerted her when someone was about to violate one of her precious frocks.
‘We might not stain it,’ Sophy said weakly. ‘Not if we were really careful.’
They both pondered the situation until Chloe looked up with a faint glimmer of hope on her face.
‘I have this stuff I put on my eyebrows. It’s like this clear gel; maybe we could try that?’
Sophy thought that all three of them must have stopped breathing as Chloe lubed up the teeth of the stuck zipper with her brow gel.
