Page 73 of The Vintage Dress Shop in Primrose Hill
‘Of course I am,’ Sophy said and then she didn’t say anything at all because she was too busy kissing Charles.
They were fairly innocent kisses as far as their kisses went. No hands straying, tongues delving, but Sophy still got the heart-thumping, head-swooning, stomach-dipping rush that she always got from Charles’s kisses. She was quite happy to kiss him for the rest of the evening. Phoebe had other ideas though and soon prodded Sophy between her shoulder blades.
‘Your hair’s coming undone,’ she said, though, quite frankly, it wasn’t the only thing of Sophy’s that was coming undone. ‘Here, I’ll pin it for you.’
The thought of Phoebe shoving sharp, pointy things at her head really was a mood-killer even as the band played Glenn Miller’s ‘In the Mood’, and Sophy supposed that she couldn’t spend theentireevening kissing Charles.
Not when she could spend a happy fifteen minutes in the Ladies in a glorious scrum of women, swapping hairpins and tampons, complimenting each other’s outfits and dispensing relationship advice.
Then there was the time spent on the dancefloor in Charles’s arms and though he’d been right when he said that he didn’t really dance, only shuffled, it was lovely to slow-waltz with him. He only trod on Sophy’s foot once and promised that he’d make it up to her.
The rest of the night passed in a series of moments that Sophy wished she could store on her phone along with the photos she took so she’d remember how she felt. Even Freddy and Phoebe were spotted waltzing with Coco Chanel wedged between them, her paws on Freddy’s shoulders. Next to them, Chloe and Anita danced together (because there was a distinct shortage of men). A sprightly middle-aged couple doing a frenetic jitterbug that would have got them all tens onStrictly Come Dancing.Not so pleasing was the sight of Cress sitting every dance out while Colin sat next to her and glowered; but even Colin perked up when, once the music had stoppedand the lights had come on, they eventually tumbled out of the ballroom.
They ran through Bloomsbury Square, tipsy and giggly, until they found a chippy still open. While Sophy waited for her battered sausage and chips, Charles took her in his arms again and they swayed, cheek to cheek, in the middle of the queue to catcalls and applause.
But maybe the best part of the night was later, when the crowds had dispersed and Sophy’s friends and colleagues had caught nightbuses and minicabs back home and it was just her and Charles walking through the dark Bloomsbury streets to the garret that he’d done wonders with.
‘For a nightcap,’ Sophy said, though she wouldn’t have minded at all if it had been more, much more, than a nightcap.
Therewasa nightcap: the expensive brandy that Charles poured into proper brandy glasses. But that wasn’t all there was. Charles had only turned on one lamp, so his lounge was more shadow than light and there was no one able to see Sophy sitting on his lap again as they kissed and kissed until the sun streaked through the dark and made it morning.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
On the Sunday morning when she woke up, stiff-limbed and parched, but still in Charles’s arms on his mid-century Eames sofa, Sophy couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so content. That she was in the place, both physically and emotionally, where she was meant to be.
‘No, don’t wake up,’ Charles murmured into her neck as he felt her stir. ‘You make the most comfortable blanket.’
‘My phone,’ she groaned, because in some still shadowy and distant corner of the room was where she’d flung her bag the night before, and it was currently ringing.
‘Who on earth would be ringing you at…’ – he wriggled to get his arm free and peer at his watch – ‘…at not even eight on a Sunday morning?’
Sophy didn’t know who would be so rude and unfeeling as to call her that early on the day of rest, and then she sat up with a start, digging her elbow into Charles’s chest so he ‘oof’ed on impact.
‘It’ll be my grandparents,’ she said, her voice croaky because she had drunk a lot of champagne the night before and it felt as if something had crawled into her mouth while she was asleep and died there. ‘We all get a bit confused about the time difference and daylight savings.’
Sophy didn’t get off the sofa so much as slide to the floor, and then crawled towards the corner where her bag had been silent but was now chirping again. She plunged her hand into its depths and pulled out her phone.
‘Please make it stop, Sophy. I beg of you,’ Charles implored from the sofa, where he was still curled up.
She staggered to her feet, groped for a door handle and found herself in a small hall, its walls covered in a vibrant tropical wallpaper, which made her close her eyes, because her retinas weren’t ready for lush green vegetation, bright pink hibiscus flowers and was that a lemur or a monkey?
Sophy stumbled her way to the bathroom, the cream and mint green subway tiles much kinder to her eyes, and called her grandparents, who had given up on reaching her after three missed calls.
She sat on the edge of the roll-top bath with her phone held out in front of her and at last! There were Bob and Jean, their faces wreathed in smiles until they peered at their own screen to take a closer look at their granddaughter.
‘Strewth love, you look like you’ve had a rough night,’ Bob exclaimed. ‘Have you even been to bed?’
‘I’ve slept,’ Sophy said, because she kind of had and they didn’t need to know that it hadn’t been in her own bed. Then she squinted past her phone screen to Charles’s shaving mirror and realised that she had a false eyelash stuck to her cheek, the eye make-up of the night before had smudged so she resembled a raccoon that had been in a fight and one of her plaits had made a successful bid for freedom. ‘I must have forgotten to do my skincare regime last night.’
‘You still look gorgeous, love,’ Jean said, which was a complete lie but one that Sophy appreciated. ‘I hope it’s not going to be too quiet for you stuck here with us old-timers.’
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Sophy said, though the sheep station and the nearby town of Queensville wouldn’t begin to compare with the London of last night. ‘I’m getting too old for big nights out.’
‘Well, you’ll wanta few big nights out when you pop down to Melbourne.’ Bob stroked his chin ruminatively. ‘Barbara and the girls can’t wait to meet you. And if you manage to come out before Christmas this year, then the whole tribe descends on us.’
‘I’ll be there long before Christmas,’ Sophy said. It would be a very different Christmas though. No delicious nip to the air, the scent of chestnuts roasting as Sophy tried to cram all her Christmas shopping into one blood-pressure-escalating afternoon. No fighting with Cress over the green triangles in the Quality Street tin. No being halfway down a bottle of Bailey’s by Boxing Day as she and Caroline did their traditional Boxing Day jigsaw. But different could be good. ‘I grew up onNeighbours. I know all about Christmas on the beach and shrimp on the barbie.’
‘Well, we can’t wait to see you and now that Johnno’s sorted everything out, there’s no need to worry about dates and whatnot,’ Jean said, which was very confusing to Sophy in her fragile state. How did they know that Johnno had sorted everything out and also, since when had Johnnoeversorted everything out?
