Page 60 of Before You Say Goodbye

“That’s bribery,” Autumn said pointedly, but she agreed to Emma’s terms nevertheless. Maybe Emma was right and wearing a beautiful dress would be good for her. She had barely been out of her pyjamas for longer than a couple of hours at a time in weeks. Perhaps getting dressed up to go to a ball could even be a little bit exciting.

“How’s the song coming along?” Emma asked nonchalantly. They only ever talked about the medley when they were out of the house. There would be a Marley-induced mutiny if Bowie found out about it in advance.

“It’s going all right,” she told Emma. They’d been rehearsing for a few hours almost every day for a week. They’d stomped back and forth through the field so many times that they’d forged their own little pathway through the grass. The three remaining chickens still accompanied them every day. They were careful now to make sure they brought them all back to the garden.

Autumn had turned a corner with her performance and was actually quite looking forward to showing everyone what she and Marley had been able to put together. The more they rehearsed, the better they sounded. She was not as hesitant as she had once been. She had faith in her ability to deliver now and she had Marley to thank for that. He was an excellent teacher and a fabulous cheerleader.

“I don’t know why I’m not more afraid of it,” she added.

“Neither do I,” Maddie said musingly. “You do know there’ll be over two hundred people there, don’t you?”

“Thanks for that,” Autumn said.

“They’ll all be professional performers too,” Bluebell added. “Like, the kind of people who actually get paid to do what you’re going to do for free.”

Autumn shuddered. “Now I’m terrified,” she said. “Thanks, guys.”

They laughed.

“I just keep reminding myself that it’s not about any of that,” Autumn said. “It’s about Bowie and what it will mean to him. Marley’s brazen talent doesn’t help, though. Your boy has nerves of steel.”

“Well, he lives for the stage,” Emma said. “And he’s looking forward to performing in public again.”

As she looked up from the clothes rail, Autumn caught a wordless exchange between Emma and each of her daughters. She hated it when this happened. It was the only time she remembered she was not genuinely a part of their family. There were things she didn’t know. A past she hadn’t been privy to.

“Has he told you his plan for the evening?” Emma deftly changed the subject. Autumn worked hard to free her face of confusion, and nodded. Marley was going to tell Bowie he had to fly to New York on Saturday evening to play with his band on Sunday because they had nobody else to do it. In fact, Marleywould actually be waiting backstage for Autumn at the ball. She would need to listen for a prompt and then tell Bowie she needed the toilet. Someone would meet her in the ladies’ loo and bring her through to Marley backstage. “He’ll realise something’s going on,” she’d said, anxiously chewing on her cheek — “when I’m gone so long . . .” Autumn really wanted this to work. She was looking forward to giving Bowie such a sentimental gift.

“Maybe, but by the time he does we’ll only be a few seconds from starting to sing,” he’d reassured her. “It will still be a surprise.”

Now that they were looking for something suitable to wear, Autumn could barely wait. She was eager to get to the beers and the dancing, singing and performing. It was the adventure she needed. Plus, she’d get to see Bowie in a suit. She’d always liked snazzy men.

“Autumn, I think I found your dress.” Bluebell called from across the shop. She was holding up a black, strapless gown with a raised hem at the front, a train at the back, and peacock feathers embroidered intricately on both the skirt and the bodice. From a distance, the feathers looked like tiny, indistinguishable splashes of extraordinary blues and greens. It was made all the more special when it became apparent what they actually were. Bluebell knew her too well ? it was beautiful and Autumn loved it.

“And I found mine.” Bluebell held up a floor-length dress with full sheer sleeves. It had a fitted bodice covered in tiny silver sequins and the skirt was floaty and paisley-patterned, with an almost waist-high slit up one side. With its beaded, multicoloured belt sewn into the waistline, it was the most boho formal gown Autumn had ever seen. Maddie eyed it enviously.

“I could never pull off anything like that,” she said, looking downhearted. Bluebell and Autumn exchanged knowing glances.

“You have your own thing going on,” Autumn said. She’d told Maddie with sincerity many times that she was envious of the ease with which she managed to wear clashing patterns, funky headscarves with fat, hooped earrings, and costume rings on her fingers to dress up jeans and baggy T-shirts with style, but Maddie usually brushed off her compliments. She couldn’t see anything good about her appearance and dressed the way she did to distract attention from her figure, which she believed inadequate.

Maddie was shorter than her brothers and sisters, and not so perfectly in proportion, but her curves were exactly where most women wanted them, and she had the most amazing hair and smile — she just wasn’t able to see it herself. She’d been bullied at school by girls who’d called her ‘fat’. She still couldn’t see past the fact that she wasn’t a size ten. She openly lusted after features and traits her siblings had: Pip’s perfect little nose, Bluebell’s wavy blonde hair, Marley’s unabashed sexiness and Bowie’s charismatic awkwardness. Autumn had tried to tell her that the way she thought about herself was wrong, but Maddie had insisted thatshewas the normal one; her brothers and sister were the weird ones. She was quite sure it wasn’t normal to fancy yourself as much as they all did.

“They’ve always loved themselves,” she’d said. “Not in an ugly way . . . They just know how much they have to offer and they’ve always been happy to admit it. I’ve never felt that way about myself.”

Autumn would never understand how Ben and Emma had managed to produce four unabashedly confident children alongside a middle child who couldn’t stand to look at herself in the mirror. She set about searching for a dress that might make her friend feel as fabulous as Autumn thought she looked.

“What about this?” she asked, picking up a floor-length, pleated, canary-yellow gown. It would skim and accentuate Maddie’s frame in all the right places.

“Oh, that’s gorgeous,” Emma said, hoisting the pile of dresses she was carrying onto her hip to finger the fabric.

“I’m not sure.” Maddie reached out to feel it too. “It has a halter neck. I hate my shoulders. I’m not sure about the yellow either. And the pleats might make my hips look too wide.”

“You’re wrong.” Bluebell snatched up the dress and nudged her sister into the dressing room. Maddie sighed and gave in. Autumn and Emma followed. Emma was struggling under the weight of an armful of garments.

“Why do you have so many?” Autumn asked her, afraid she may have been selecting dresses for all of them to try. She had at least seven.

“I like to try on a few different ones,” she said.

“Mum! What a fucking waste of time.” Bluebell watched her mother arranging her dresses in order. The emerald-green one they already knew she would buy was settled strategically at the back, to be tried on last. Green was definitely Emma’s colour and the dress, which was velvet and gothic in style, would suit her perfectly.

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