Page 5 of Navy

“He’s made me so mad. He told all of us, including Mr. Tristan, that you were away on a cruise. Then this morning, while I was in the pantry with the door partially closed, he came in and started filling a cooler with stuff from the fridge. Now I know why I kept coming up with missing food,” she muttered to herself with a frown, before shaking herself and continuing.

“Anyway, he was talking on the phone to someone. Telling them that he was going to marry Miss Gia off, and they were going to split the money. And how Mr. Tristan thought you and Miss Gia were on a year-long cruise, so he’d not interfere with you getting married. And how once he got the money, he was going to sort Mr. Tristan out, because there was nothing in the will to say what would happen to everything if his brother was dead. Then he went on to say that he’d have you,” she pointed at me, “at some ball tomorrow night so that he could introduce you to your new husband and that whoever he was talking to better have a ring and be ready to marry you within the week.”

Hetty inhaled a gasping breath as Gram and I exchanged looks. Other than the news about Tristan and us being away on a cruise, which explained why no-one had looked for us, the rest we’d figured out ourselves.

“Then,” Hetty continued, “he muttered about having to go to the bloody cottage and how he hated that the road always fu…. sorry, messed up his car. It was bad enough that he had to get food to you once a month. Then he left the kitchen. I knew I had to find you. It took me a little while because I had to follow him, but once I saw where he was heading, I remembered this cottage. I parked in the woods and came that way so he wouldn’t see me.”

Looking expectantly at us, she finally stopped talking. “Thanks, Hetty,” I said, “we wondered why nobody had called to look for us. Me, I can understand, but Gram had a social life with lots of friends before all this. His excuse that we were on a year’s cruise was pretty genius.”

“It really was,” Gram agreed.

“So, what are we going to do to get you out of this situation,” Hetty demanded, rustling the bag on her lap.

“Well,” I answered. “I was hoping to be able to slip away at the ball tomorrow and call Tristan. But as usual, Julian, the idiot, hasn’t thought things through, and while he’s demanded I go to the ball, he hasn’t thought about the fact that I have nothing to wear to a ball at the cottage.”

“Huh, I’ve got you covered!” Hetty shouts in glee and dramatically pulls a gold piece of cloth from the carrier bag she brought with her.

My eyes widen and just about fall out of my head at the gold dress she’s holding up. I recognise it as one of my mother’s, and I’m wondering how the hell she thinks I’m going to fit into it. My mother and I were totally opposites in body shape. She’d been tall, around five foot ten, and thin, so bloody thin. No hips and boobs to talk about.

Whereas I was, how best to describe me …. Fat? No, I’d not call myself fat. Voluptuous…yeah, let’s go with voluptuous. I had boobs and arse for days, what with being an E-cup bra size. I’d learned to love my body, but I also knew it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. I wasn’t short at an average five foot six. I’d taken after my father’s side of the family in looks. He’d been Italian and from the photos I had, I looked just like his mother. A fact that I don’t think had pleased my mother much. I had long, thick, wavy dark hair, dark brown eyes with slightly heavy eyebrows that were the bane of my life, and olive-toned skin that I loved because it turned a lovely golden brown when I spend time in the sun. How the hell I was going to fit into the dress Hetty had brought, I had no idea.

“Um, Hetty, thank you, but I’m not sure I’ll fit into that,” I said, pointing at the dress she still held up. I was trying not to catch Gram’s eyes because I knew she was laughing at my predicament, and I didn’t want to hurt Hetty’s feelings; she seemed proud that she’d managed to snaffle a dress for me.

Hetty shook the dress, while holding it up, then looked at me and back to the dress. I saw immediately when she understood what I meant. Then she shook her head, “It will be fine, I picked the one that your mother was able to adjust. You know how she was—one minute she was fine, then she’d starve herself. She had a few dresses that she could adjust. This one will fit, try it, and see.”

Hesitantly, I took the dress, handling it as if it was a live snake. It wasn’t my style at all as it was very much in your face whereas I was more understated and by understated, I meant I wore black only when I went out.

“Fine,” I muttered as I walked out of the kitchen, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Walking to my bedroom, I stripped off my comfortable leggings and jumper. Holding the gold dress up, I again grimaced at the colour. Having a good look at it, I found the adjustments that Hetty had spoken about. Maybe, just maybe, it could work.

Going to the chest of drawers, I changed my bra and put on some pull me in pants that I’d worn to the funeral. I was hoping they would give me another inch of breathing room in the dress. Picking up the dress, I slipped it on, surprised when it settled over my hips with not much tugging. Looking in the mirror, my eyes widened at my image. Yes, the dress was tight in the bust, but the draping neckline hid how tight it was. The nipped-in waist gave me an hourglass figure that I wasn’t unhappy with. It was a little tight on the hips but nothing that I couldn’t handle, I just hope it held out when I sat down. The only downside was that it was too long. I only had one pair of heels with me at the cottage and even with the extra two inches they afforded me, the dress would still be too long.

“Let’s see how bad it is,” Gram called out.

“Give me a minute,” I shouted back. Going to the wardrobe, I picked up my heels and put them on, twisting back and forwards in the mirror to have a look. It would do.

Opening my bedroom door, I walked back to the kitchen. It had been a while since I’d walked in heels, so it was taking some concentration on my part. When I realised that neither of them had said anything, I looked up. Hetty had a smug smile on her face and Gram had her hand up in front of her mouth her, then she smiled in stunned happiness.

“Oh, baby, you look beautiful.”

“Told you it would fit,” Hetty said smugly.

I waved a hand at her with a smile, “Yes, you did. It needs shortening, though, otherwise I’ll be tripping and falling all over the place.”

Hetty reached into her bag and pulled out a sewing kit. “Get on the table,” she motioned with a hand. “We’ll get you measured, and I’ll take it up. While I’m doing that, we’ll talk about how I’m going to get Mrs. Wallingsworth out of here and to my house.”

Gram put a hand on Hetty’s arm, “Hetty, I think with everything that has gone on you can call me Edna. Don’t you?” Gram informed Hetty, her left eyebrow raised as if daring Hetty to say no.

Hetty grinned at Gram, “Edna it is. Now let’s get this girl sorted and we’ll make plans.”

Hetty made quick work of hemming the dress and we hung it up in the bathroom to get the creases out with the help of the steam when we bathed.

It was decided that once I’d left with Julian, Hetty would drive up, collect Gram and our belongings, then take Gram back to her house.

After a quick supper, Hetty left, and Gram and I made short work of packing up all our belongings. We were in high spirits, it was the first time in months we both felt like there was an end to all this madness.

Now, just to find someone to marry me in a hurry!

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