Page 60 of Wrapped Up at the Vintage Dress Shop
‘Go on then. Don’t keep me in suspense.’ Phoebe leaned back against the table and waited for Freddy to deliver the bad news. It was definitely bad. He wasn’t giving good news energy.
‘I had an email from Stefan, the guy who organises the vintage balls at the Bloomsbury Ballroom.’ Freddy raised his eyebrows as Phoebe opened her mouth. ‘No, it’s not being cancelled. Yes, we booked tickets ages ago. It’s not that.’
Phoebe was intrigued but still had a feeling of foreboding given Freddy’s unexpected visit and his grave manner. ‘What is it then?’
He looked down at Coco Chanel who was now happily asleep in his arms and snoring like a chainsaw. ‘Promise you won’t get mad,’ he muttered, refusing to meet Phoebe’s eyes, which had widened in alarm. ‘Oh God, you’re going to get mad.’
‘I’m going to get mad if you don’t just come out with it for goodness’ sake,’ Phoebe snapped because her last nerve had been well and truly worked.
‘It’s Coco. Stefan says that she’s banned from attending the Christmas ball,’ Freddy said quickly as Phoebe gasped in shock, outrage and a bitter sense of betrayal.
‘He said what?’ Her ears had to be deceiving her. ‘Cocoalwaysattends the vintage balls. She’s like the guest of honour.’ She sat down heavily on the stool she’d only just vacated as she was reeling too much to stay upright. ‘Stefan said that? But headoresCoco. Is this a change in venue policy? Who’s the manager? I’m going to speak to the manager!’
Considering that Phoebe kicking off was the reason why she and Freddy were no longer she and Freddy, and even though this was prime kicking off, he wasn’t getting that flinty look in his eyes and tightening his lips. Instead he came to sit on the stool next to hers.
‘There was an incident at the last ball,’ he revealed somewhat unwillingly. ‘Consensus of opinion is that the culprit was this young lady.’ He shut his eyes, probably so he wouldn’t have to see Phoebe’s face scrunched up in fury. ‘After the summer ball, they found a . . .’
‘What could they have possibly found and blamed my precious Coco for?’ Phoebe demanded.
‘They found a turd . . .’
‘A what?’
‘You heard me the first time,’ Freddy muttered, his head hanging low. ‘Under a table and Stefan said that it could only have been Coco.’
‘Coco wouldnever!’ Phoebe all but exploded. Freddy put a hand on her arm as if that might calm her down, and it took all she had not to angrily shake him off. ‘Were there actual witnesses?’
‘Well, no . . .’
‘So, I don’t know how he can accuse Coco of such a thing. She’s here all day, even in the atelier with its thick carpet and expensive dresses, and she’s never disgraced herself like that. Not once in all these years.’
‘I know but what other explanation could there be?’ Freddy asked because it turned out he wasn’t on Coco’s side either.
‘People have too much to drink and then they turn into animals,’ Phoebe said immediately because that was a far more likely explanation instead of blaming it on an actual animal who was beautifully house-trained. ‘Fine! If Coco isn’t going, then I’m not going either.’
‘Pheebs, you love the vintage balls,’ Freddy reminded her. ‘All the staff will be going so I think you need to go too. For shop morale.’
It was true that Phoebe enjoyed the biannual vintage balls, one just before summer and one just before Christmas. It was an excuse to get properly dressed up in the kind of looks you could only really bust out for a formal occasion. Unless you were Marianne’s friend Gretel who would happily wear a ball gown to her office job in an insurance broker’s. Still, Phoebe did have a lot of occasion dresses and not that many occasions to wear them to.
Plus, Freddy always agreed to pay for a glam squad for the staff, Phoebe’s friends Vivienne and Roy, who specialised in retro make-up and hair looks.
It was always the best night out. They’d do predrinks and an after party then finally end up getting a kebab and chips at an all-night place on Southampton Row. But maybe the best part of the best night out was getting to dance with Freddy in a proper ballroom swagged out in red velvet and gold, the lights from the mirror balls shimmering in time to the fifty-piece orchestra. And wedged in between them, as always, was Coco.
‘If Coco isn’t welcome then I won’t feel welcome either,’ Phoebe said because although she wasn’t officially licensed, in a lot of ways Coco was her emotional support animal. Just as Phoebe was her emotional support human. Which was another reason why Phoebe would have to bow out. ‘You know she has separation anxiety, Freddy. I can hardly leave her on her own.’
‘Can’t you leave her with a friend?’ Freddy asked. Even though they were no longer a secret us, Phoebe appreciated that Freddy was trying to find a solution to this problem so maybe he was still a little bit on Coco’s side after all.
‘But all my friends will be going to the ball.’
‘What about your neighbours? The tie-dye hippies or the ones who grow carrots on the roof ofThe Sheila?’ Freddy frowned. ‘Are they the same neighbours? I get confused.’
‘Two entirely different sets of neighbours but Coco hates Gunther because he always makes piggy noises when he sees her.’ Which was why Phoebe also low-key hated Gunther. ‘And on the other side, Sean is allergic.’
‘Maybe their partners, the one who doesn’t make piggy noises or the one who isn’t allergic, could look in on Coco a couple of times,’ Freddy suggested. ‘You do leave her on her own occasionally. If you have to go to the big supermarket or the doctor’s or something.’
‘I don’t know.’ Phoebe was genuinely torn. Despite everything that had happened, maybe even because of it, shewanted to make some good memories with the people she worked with, and she still wanted to dance with Freddy and maybe see that soft, tender look he used to get when they danced together. ‘Maybe. Maybe not, because if I turn up without Coco then it’s like I believe Stefan’s version of events even though in my heart of hearts I know that Coco would never do that.’
They sat there in a considered silence for a few moments punctured only by Coco’s snoring, the dog blissfully unaware of the baseless accusations that had been flung her way. Then Freddy came to with a little start almost as if he’d drifted off.
