Page 71 of The Vintage Dress Shop in Primrose Hill
It had been so long since Sophy had got ready for a big night out with friends. Beatrice hooked up her phone so they could listen to big band tunes as they drank and put the finishing touches to their outfits, spritzing perfume, dispensing heel pads and blister plasters because, as Chloe said, ‘Prevention is better than cure.’
Even Coco Chanel was in a party mood and wearing a diamanté collar because apparently she was coming too. ‘She gets separation anxiety,’ Phoebe explained as they left the shop, all of them a bit giggly and shrieky as they climbed into the people carrier waiting for them. ‘I couldn’t leave her on her own for hours. Poor love. She’d never forgive me. I’d never forgive myself!’
‘If I held a gun to your head and you had to choose, what do you love more, vintage dresses or Coco Chanel?’ Beatrice dared to ask Phoebe once they were threading their way around Regent’s Park.
Sophy tensed because Phoebe had been in such a good mood and now Beatrice had ruined it, but Phoebe simply laughed. ‘It’s impossible to choose, isn’t it, my princess?’ She nuzzled the top of Coco Chanel’s head with no thought for her lipstick. ‘I think I’d just have to take the bullet, Bea.’
All too soon they were pulling up outside what looked like quite a run-down venue in Bloomsbury, not far from the little mews where Charles had taken Sophy to dinner the week before.
Sophy couldn’t hide her disappointment at the shabbyexterior. ‘I thought it would look, well, more ballroomy,’ she said.
‘It’s much better inside,’ Phoebe promised, tucking her arm through Sophy’s. ‘This is one of the only two intact 1950s ballrooms left in London. Every time I come here, I feel like I’m stepping into another world.’
Sophy wasn’t convinced but she still had her Prosecco buzz on and Phoebe was acting like a real, live human being so she resolved not to be a party pooper. And once they stepped through the double doors into the foyer, she couldn’t help but gasp in wonder at the plush red and gold interior.
It really did feel as if they’d travelled back in time seventy years.
‘Just you wait until you see the ballroom,’ Phoebe promised.
It was another five minutes of queuing for the cloakroom and last-minute primping before Sophy and Cress walked through another set of double doors into one of the most beautiful rooms Sophy had ever seen.
It was like finding herself inside a jewellery box. The walls were lined with red velvet heavy with gold embellishments. Huge crystal chandeliers and red silk Chinese lanterns hung from the ceiling, the light reflecting off the edges of the little gilt tables and chairs set up around the sprung ballroom floor. On a stage was the famed big band; there had to be at least forty musicians, all wearing shiny gold suits and dresses, and a conductor, dapper in white tie and tails.
Then there were the people. The men in dinner jackets, hair slicked back like they’d just walked off the set ofWest Side Story,and the women in dresses of every colour imaginable, full skirts swishing over stiff tulle petticoats, their hair arranged in pin curls and waves, faces straight from the silver screen.
But the best sight of all was the tall man lifting his hand in an elegant wave when he caught sight of Sophy. As fast as her heels would allow, she hurried over to the cluster of tables that had been commandeered by Freddy, who was wearing a suit though Freddy never wore suits, and Charles, who did wear suits but tonight had absolutely outdone himself.
‘Look at you!’ Sophy exclaimed, eyes running up and down trying to take it all in as Charles struck a pose. He just needed a cane and a top hat to complete the perfection that was him in black tie and tails and… ‘Are those spats?’
‘Too much?’ Charles asked and Sophy knew that he wouldn’t even care if she did think it was too much because he followed the beat of his own drum. It was one of the things she liked most about him.
‘I wouldn’t change a thing,’ she said, leaning in for a kiss and to whisper in his ear, ‘It turns out that everyone knows about us, so we don’t need to sneak off any more.’
‘I quite liked the sneaking off,’ Charles said, taking Sophy’s hand so he could twirl her round. ‘You look beautiful. That dress. You in that dress. Though I’m sad that I won’t be able to run my fingers through your hair.’
‘Maybe later,’ Sophy suggested hopefully, but their small intimate moment was rudely interrupted by Chloe and Anita barging past them to greet friends on the other side of the cavernous ballroom. ‘Shall we dance?’
Charles raised his glass of champagne. ‘Haven’t had quite enough of this to brave the dancefloor.’
Sophy sat down next to him, Cress on her other side, to watch the couples dancing, jiving mostly. But a sedate jive; no one was being thrown in the air or sliding between anyone’s legs.
Freddy, with Coco Chanel on his lap though he complained bitterly that he’d get dog hairs on his one and only suit, ordered more champagne. It was all too perfect – except there was one person missing.
It wasn’t until Charles got up to see someone he knew, and Cress was talking to Phoebe about a woman who was wearing a dress that was an impeccable copy of Marilyn Monroe’s white one fromThe Seven Year Itch, that Sophy could inch her chair closer to Freddy’s.
‘Is Johnno coming? He’s probably going to be late. He’s usually late,’ she said, more to convince herself that that was the reason for his no-show.
‘It’s not really his thing,’ Freddy said lightly, as he tickled Coco Chanel behind her huge bat-like ears.
‘Is it because of me?’ Sophy winced. ‘I was really cross with him about the missing passport. We had words. Or actually I had words, and they weren’t the kindest of words.’
‘I’m sure he deserved them. All that fuss and delay over his passport and birth certificate. He’s allergic to admin.’ Freddy shook his head and Sophy was sure that whatever Johnno paid him, it wasn’t enough to have to deal with his affairs on a daily basis.
‘It’s just as well that Johnno is really charming as well as being really infuriating,’ she said. ‘But still, I said some things that I’m not proud about.’
Freddy patted her hand so she could see the tattoos that snaked round his wrist and fingers. ‘Soph, we both know that Johnno has heard a lot worse than whatever came out of your mouth. I bet you didn’t even drop a single f-bomb.’
Sophy was appalled. ‘Of course I didn’t.’
