digging into her palms, her breath coming in shallow bursts. She had the strangest feeling that he had been about to kiss her back there. It was only half a feeling, the kind that makes you feel totally wrong, and stupid all at the same time. Perhaps she’d completely misread the moment, which she had every reason to have done, given how out of practice she was. The immediate thrill that had pulsed through her was replaced by a seeping revulsion. What a sleaze. A great looking guy who thought he could, literally, have it all. Well that went some way to compensating for the fact that he was taken. Not that she was in the slightest bit interested, because she wasn’t. Who would want a guy who behaved like that?
‘Thanks anyway.’ She hurtled towards the open front door, overtaking him half way down the hall. Remembering Luce’s firm instructions, she yanked herself to a halt at the door, and as she shoved her feet into her shoes, she forced out a sickly smile. ‘You know where we are if you need anything else.’
Vaguely aware of his slightly bemused expression as he squinted after her, rubbing his chin, she stumbled over the cabinet on the doorstep, and fled for the sanctuary of the van.
Text from Luce to Izzy:
And…?? Was the hot guy hot enough for u Izzy? Did you nail a date? Need deets!!!! :D xx
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Text from Izzy to Luce:
Already spoken for xx
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Text from Luce to Izzy:
OMG!!! Really???? :( xx
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Text from Izzy to Luce:
Married with two kids. Also loaded. You KNOW I’d never do loaded xx
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Text from Luce to Izzy:
Eeeek, sorry :/ XX
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Text from Izzy to Luce:
Give you deets l8r ok? xx
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Text from Luce to Izzy:
Might give Corks a miss 2nite…need to do Steffie’s dress :/ x
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Text from Izzy to Luce:
Me too. STACK of painting height of house. Catch u 2moz then, hugs xx
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Text from Luce to Izzy:
((((HUGS)))) for you 2 Izzyboots :) xx
7th June, Saturday Afternoon
LUCE
The Bridal Suite
Coup de Kerr
‘So, do you have anything special in mind?’
Luce put down the mugs on the table next to the chaise lounge, and waited for Jules the bride, who was tentatively flipping through the wedding dresses hanging on the rails. So far, so good, with her very first Bridal Studio appointment. Even though she’d done it lots of times before at her flat, something about being in her own studio made her heart beat really fast. It was scary, yet at the same time, exhilarating.
It was so strange how life worked out. If it hadn’t been for The Vintage Cinema Club needing her to do this, she’d never have taken the plunge. As it was, Izzy had kind of fast forwarded it, so Luce hadn’t had time to put out the mental anchors, and resist. She hadn’t even had the time to feel how far out of her comfort zone she was going, and like so many things, once you were there, it wasn’t half as uncomfortable as you thought. In fact now it was done, and she was into her first appointment, she was feeling incredibly happy about it. Whatever happened with Aidie and the cinema, she’d always be able to say she’d had her own Bridal Studio. Luce mentally mouthed OMG, then punched the air with an imaginary fist.
Luce looked back at Jules. She was small, with a neat figure underneath her oversized shirt, and most of the dresses Luce had in stock would be an option for her. And not your everyday bride either, given she’d said no to the chilled cava in champagne flutes, which had been Dida’s contribution to Luce’s new venture, and opted for tea instead.
‘You know I’m really not a wedding-y kind of person.’ Jules sank down on the grey velvet chair. ‘I hated it the first time around, and at forty it’s even worse. I really don’t want anything white and pouffy, but the guy I’m marrying loves vintage, so here I am. I really hope you can sort me out.’ Jules gave a hopeless shrug, and a sigh.
Oh dear. Somehow Luce was used to more enthusiasm in her brides. ‘Is there anything on the rail that catches your eye at all? You’re not having a “coup de coeur” moment?’
A lot of brides said they knew instantly, the moment they saw “the dress”. Often it was a love at first sight thing, but Luce definitely wasn’t sensing any love here.
‘To be honest, I can see all those dresses would be beautiful for someone, but for me they’re all a bit lacy, or satiny, or beady…’ Jules trailed off, and pulled a face.
At least she was being honest. Was this her first anti-wedding bride? If so Luce was completely sympathetic.
‘Lace and tulle and beads tend to go with the territory, even for the vintage dresses.’ Luce gave her a smile that came right from her heart. ‘But don’t worry, we can easily do something different. What kind of wedding are you having?’
Jules took a sip of tea and gave a desperate grimace. ‘It sounds awful, but I’d really rather not be doing it at all. I’d much rather just wake up one day and find I’m married, but it’s really important to Joe, so here I am.’
‘Oh dear.’ Luce had never had anyone this reluctant before.
Seeing someone else mortified at the idea of a wedding was almost like looking in a mirror. Somehow it spun her straight back to Ollie, and the way she’d reacted to him, when he’d started suggesting they should take things further. At the time, the idea of Ollie crossing the great metaphorical divide, from being friends, to landing in her bed, had sent her right up in the air. Looking back, she wondered if she hadn’t over reacted. There was something about today’s bride and her reluctance that reminded Luce of herself. She’d always kept Ollie firmly on the friends side of the divide, not because he wasn’t hot, but because she valued his friendship too much to lose it. Breaking her own very rigid rules would not only make things complicated, but there was too much at stake to risk it.
It wasn’t as if Ollie had done anything as extreme as proposing marriage, and it hadn’t come totally from out of the blue, but it all went horribly pear shaped all the same. What began with hints that he was thinking about her differently, had blown up into a full on explosion one Friday night, as she was leaving Cork’s Bar with a guy she didn’t really give a fig about. The next thing he was saying was he couldn’t bear to watch her with other guys any more, and if she didn’t want to go out with him, and only him, he was going to have to leave. For Luce, being pushed into a corner only made her more determined not to bend. If Luce had been like Jules, and not over reacted, but instead tried to overcome her fears and work something out with someone she cared a lot about, the outcome might have been very different. Because in the end she’d lost Ollie anyway. And although she’d been desperate to prove to herself she didn’t give a damn, and now she was just left kicking herself. Very hard.