Page 57 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
‘Yes …’ I agreed.
‘So if you arrive there early, we can have a little chat. And your edits have apparently been delayed, but they’ll be emailed to you within the next couple of days, so we can discuss any little points that might have come up.’
‘But I’m not going to the book launch,’ I said quickly. ‘I mean, I did tell you I hadn’t got a ticket and I’m sure it’s been booked up for months – probably since right after the last one!’
‘Oh, don’t worry your wee head about that. I told Eleri I was sure she could squeeze one more in, especially since this year they’re using the restaurant rather than the tearoom. Ortwomore, if you know a dishy man. There simply weren’t enough of them last time and all the Heathcliffs except Eleri’s husband were dismal. Do you know one?’
‘I-I suppose I do,’ I stammered, thrown off balance. ‘My neighbour … though I’m not sure he’d want to come to a—’
‘Great, I’ll tell Eleri. And don’t worry too much about the costume – anything vaguely Victorian will do.’
‘Costume?’
‘Everyone dresses up as a Brontë or a character from one of their novels.’
That put paid to the idea of my even mentioning to Nile the possibility of his going with me, though actually, I don’t think I’d have dared anyway.
‘But I haven’t got time to get a costume by Saturday,’ I began. ‘I mean, it’s Monday now and I’m terribly busy, so I really don’t think—’
‘I’ll see you there, then – and I look forward to meeting your new bloke,’ she said. ‘Quick work!’
Before I could refute the idea that I’d pounced on the nearest unattached male the moment I arrived in Haworth, she’d gone. The line crackled for a moment, probably from Senga’s excess energy, and then went dead.
‘Gawd!’ said Prince Kev, staring at her in amazement. ‘How did you get in here, then? Is there an easier way round the back?’
‘I’m Beauty and I was brought here from the Once-upon-a-time. I’ve been waiting for you to come and set me free, silly,’ she told him, and he frowned as if she’d said something difficult to understand.
He was quite handsome in a darkly glowering kind of way, though dressed very strangely for a prince …
‘If you kiss me, we’ll be back home in a trice,’ she said impatiently. ‘What are you waiting for?’
I didn’t see how I could get out of going to the book launch event, but I was quite determined I wasn’t going to ask Nile to go with me!
I decided I’d be Emily, the tallest of the Brontës, though height was about the only physical characteristic we had in common. Apparently she was about half the width of a taper, an interestingly gruesome bit of information I learned from a book about the Brontës, because the coffin maker said it was far and away the narrowest adult one he’d had to supply.
I was very tall but not thin, which made finding a Victorian dress to fit me at a couple of days’ notice almost impossible. My queries via the internet drew a blank that evening, so next morning, after slapping a second coat of paint on to the café ceiling, I began ringing round local fancy-dress shops.
This didn’t meet with any success either (though I could have had any amount of naughty nurse outfits), but help was to come from the most unexpected direction. Tilda called in with Nell’s seed cake recipe and when I told her my problem, she said she had the perfect thing.
‘We all had to dress up one year for the Women’s Institute Victorian Extravaganza – load of nonsense it was, really. Anyway, being tall like you, there was no way anything to hire would be long enough, so Nell ran me up a dress in sprigged muslin.’
I looked at her doubtfully: it sounded a whole unlikely Kate Greenaway step too far. ‘Sprigged muslin?’
‘Cream background and dusky pink and green pattern,’ she said. ‘I got her to make it loose fitting, so it was easy on and off, and the white petticoat’s sewn in. Leg-o’-mutton sleeves.’
‘It sounds … perfect,’ I said weakly. ‘And Nell made it?’
‘Yes, she was a dressmaker back in the day, so she can alter it, too, if you like,’ she said. ‘I’ll send her round with it shortly.’
‘But surely you don’t want to lend out your lovely dress,’ I began. I mean, I was getting desperate but I didn’t think I was a sprigged muslin kind of person.
‘Why not? It’s only hanging in the wardrobe, neither use nor ornament. In fact, you can keep it. Perhaps you’ll be going to this grand do every year and get some use out of it.’
I gave in. Where else was I going to get anything else in time? And when, only half an hour later, Nell brought it round and unzipped theplastic cover, I was glad I had, because it was beautiful. It was plain and unfussy, and she’d made it all in one piece, with a long, long row of hooks and eyes up the back of the bodice.
Bel was there by then, intending to help me paint for an hour or two, so I told her about the invitation and we all went up to the flat so I could try the dress on without an interested audience – Jack and Ross were taking down the plate rack and china display shelves that ran right round the walls of the café, so the orange varnish could be sanded down and painted over.
I got in the dress and Nell hooked me up, then nipped in the waist, her mouth bristling with dressmaking pins.
