Page 80 of The Fall-Out

But speaking of curtains… I peered again through the gap. Abbie turned around, her face shifting from the delighted smile I’d seen in the mirror to a worried frown. I yanked the gap closed and turned back to the smaller mirror in the cubicle.

Kate and Rowan had both looked gorgeous. The strappy lilac satin dresses suited them perfectly with their dark hair, even though their skin tones were quite different.

I, on the other hand…

‘Nome?’ Abbie called. ‘Are you okay in there? Is the zip stuck or something?’

‘I’m all right,’ I managed to say, turning away from the mirror.

But it was no good. I knew what I’d seen, and I’d see it again when I came out.

And there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. This was Abbie’s wedding, her and Matt’s big day, and as one of her bridesmaids, I had to wear what she’d chosen, like it or not.

No one will care, I told myself firmly. It’s not about you. Suck it up, buttercup.

Taking a deep breath, I parted the curtains and stepped out.

There was a moment of silence. I forced myself to smile.

And then all at once, we started to laugh. Abbie came over and hugged me. Kate and Rowan pressed their hands over their faces like kids watching a particularly scary bit of Doctor Who, occasionally peering between their fingers and then laughing some more.

The sales assistant hurried over, tape measure looped around her neck, to see what all the commotion was about.

‘Delightful!’ she cooed. ‘I always think that a soft, cool pastel suits everybod— oh.’

‘Oh my God,’ Abbie said, when eventually she could breathe. ‘I’m so sorry, Nome.’

‘You look like you died a couple of weeks ago and someone just dug you up,’ gasped Rowan.

‘I know we shouldn’t laugh.’ Kate grabbed a tissue from the box on the table, presumably intended to mop up the joyful tears of overcome mothers-of-brides, and wiped her eyes. ‘But Naomi – you just – you poor thing.’

‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t matter, honestly. I’ll wear it. It’s fine.’

‘You’ll do nothing of the kind.’ Abbie had stopped laughing now; she looked absolutely mortified. ‘Seriously, Nome, I just didn’t think. I’ve never seen you in lilac before. I didn’t know…’

‘That she’d look like something on the mortician’s slab in CSI?’ suggested Kate.

‘I mean, I should have known there was a reason you never wear it,’ Abbie went on, ‘but it didn’t occur to me. Mum said, “How about lilac for the bridesmaids? It’ll look so fresh,” and I agreed without thinking.’

‘Fresh like something on ice at the fishmonger,’ giggled Rowan.

‘You can’t change the whole colour scheme just for me,’ I said.

‘Can’t I?’ Abbie argued. ‘Just watch me. What are a few flowers and table napkins compared to my best friend feeling like shit on my wedding day and looking like a corpse in the photos? Of course I’ll change it.’

‘Ah, it’s the photos you were worried about,’ teased Rowan. ‘“Who’s that woman who came back from the dead for your wedding, Matthew?” everyone would ask for ever more.’

‘Stop it,’ Abbie scolded. ‘Get these off and we’ll try something different.’

The sales assistant looked at us, her head on one side. ‘How about a nice fuchsia? That would warm your skin tone up beautifully, and it always suits dark-haired girls, too.’

‘Fuchsia sounds great,’ agreed Abbie. ‘Let’s give it a go and if it works I’ll get Mum on the case with the florist. Come on, all change, please.’

Half an hour later, we were all sitting around a table in a nearby pub, already a bottle of wine down, a waiter placing steaming plates of sausages and mash in front of us.

‘Crisis averted,’ Kate said, topping up our glasses. ‘Strong work there, Abs. I do risk management for an actual job, and you handled that like a pro.’

‘It’s not that big a deal.’ Abbie forked up a mound of mashed potato and peas. ‘Not nearly so much as having one of you not being comfortable on my big day would have been. I mean, that’s partly why…’

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