Page 42 of The Vintage Dress Shop in Primrose Hill
‘You’re a people person,’ Phoebe said slowly, giving Sophy a considered look, which Sophy didn’t like one little bit.
‘Well, I am a person…’
‘Yes! You’re very good at customer service.’ Phoebe nodded her head as if she’d come to a decision. ‘I need you to go out there and make them, just, like,stop.’
‘But how am I meant to do that? There was actual slut-dropping going on, Pheebs. Once the slut-dropping starts no weapon forged can defeat it.’
‘We need to create a diversion.’ Phoebe gave a little moan as she clutched her chest tighter, so Sophy wondered if she really was having a cardiac incident. ‘Or at least steer them away from the really expensive, most beloved of all the dresses.’
‘They did say that they hadn’t bought their dresses yet. Ingrid said her wedding colours were grey…’
‘But Hege’s already wearing grey…’
‘And ashes of roses…’
Phoebe perked up a little at that. ‘Oh, I love ashes of roses!’ Then she slumped again. ‘Not a wedding colour though. We don’t have a single dress of that shade in the shop.’
‘Is there another colour that would go with oyster satin and grey?’ Sophy wondered out loud, then flinched as Phoebe seized her hands.
‘That’s it! Yes! You are a bloody genius, Sophy,’ Phoebe said, straightening up, pinning her shoulders back and baring her teeth as she reassumedher fight face. ‘Right, we’re going back out there. Follow my lead.’
Sophy didn’t know what lead she was meant to be following, but at least Phoebe was looking her usual terrifying self again.
‘OK, that’s quite enough,’ Phoebe said crisply. She turned her phasers towards Valkyrie. ‘Put that dress downnow!’
Valkyrie let the cream silk dress slide from her nerveless fingers to the floor. ‘Sorry,’ she said, crouching down to pick it up.
‘That dress was worn by a bride who, in 1946, married a man who’d spent three years in a prisoner of war camp and you’re treating it like it’s a ten-pound piece of fluff from Primark,’ Phoebe continued, assessing the three women with her laser-like eyes, then landing on Jaunty Ponytail and her crisp-crumb fingers. ‘And you’re about to get grease stains on a dress that was made from a piece of lace woven by blind nuns inthe nineteenth century.Please go and wash your hands!’
‘Crap! I’m sorry,’ Jaunty Ponytail said.
‘And also you’re ruining what should be a really beautiful experience for me,’ Ingrid proclaimed tearfully from her dais. ‘It’s my wedding dress fitting and you’ve done nothing but diss my dress and behave like we’re on my hen do, when actually I told you I wanted a classy hen do. Why? Why do you hate me?’
‘We absolutely don’t hate you.’ Beyoncé sounded close to tears herself. ‘We were just bringing the fun.’
‘Honestly, what would your mothers say?’ Hege shook her head. ‘There’s a time and a place for fun and this isn’t it!’
Phoebe shot Sophy a look that was imploring but also promised certain death if she didn’t deploy her legendary people-person skills.
‘There’s no reason it shouldn’t be fun. But, like, low-key fun,’ Sophy said hesitantly.
‘I really don’t mind you trying dresses on if you’re careful with them,’ Phoebe insisted, though one of her eyelids was twitching with the strain of lying. ‘I was thinking about the wedding colours. Going to be very hard to find dresses in ashes of roses, but it would make a beautiful accent colour, if you three wore black dresses.’
There was a moment’s silence. A welcome relief. Coco Chanel even crawled out from underneath the sofa so Phoebe could scoop her up and start stroking behind her enormous bat ears.
‘Black?’ Ingrid queried doubtfully.
Hege didn’t look impressed either. ‘Isn’t black unlucky for a wedding? “Married in black, you’ll wish you were back?”’
‘I think that’s only for the bride,’ Sophy said, as Phoebe nodded approvingly.
‘It’s a bit boring, isn’t it?’ was Jaunty Ponytail’s contribution.
‘Black is very refined,’ Sophy said a little desperately because she was fast running out of positive things to say about black bridesmaid dresses. Though compared to the pastel yellow meringue she’d been forced into when Caroline married Mike, she’d have much preferred black.
‘It’s so chic,’ Cress piped up, even though her mouth was full of pins, something that always freaked Sophy out when she saw it. Somehow, during the furore Cress had managed to get Ingrid all the way into her dress, and was now making adjustments. ‘What is more chic than a little black dress?’
‘Everyone looks good in black,’ Phoebe said firmly. ‘I’ve got some lovely dresses you could try on and because they’ll all be in the same colour, it’s a great way to express your own individual styles.’ She gave Valkyrie a swift up-and-down. ‘You have the perfect figure for a Grecian-style column dress I have downstairs. The drape on it! Perfection!’
