Page 123 of The Wedding Dress Repair Shop
My spirit rebels at being incarcerated here but, as a mere wife, I am now subject to the decisions of a husband, rather than being the mistress of my own destiny.
When I said as much to Sara, my only confidante here, she replied: ‘Those who throw their caps over the windmill, must come home by Weeping Cross,’ which, as I roundly told her, was neither comforting, nor helpful!
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15 June
A hasty scrawl arrived from Guy, enclosed in a letter to his brother, saying that Bonaparte seemed to be massing his forces for a great battle. But we have heard nothing since and I feel so very cut off from any news here, which perforce must take much longer to reach us than if I were in London.
38
Soul in Torment
I assumed Viv and Honey got away OK early next morning, because her car had vanished from the mews.
Derek messaged me later to say a desk, chair and filing cabinet were arriving for the staff room today, but he’d take care of that, which left me free to put in a long day’s work on the next dress. I wanted to complete it quickly because once the Rosa-May collection returned tomorrow, I’d be too busy setting it all up on display for anything else.
Dress 8 was another candidate for the Bloody Brides room, though it had an entirely different story behind it from Honey’s or Amy’s. There was no mystery either, other than the unfathomable workings of the heart and mind.
When I’d removed it from its very big box there was certainly a lotofit, because it was a 1982 wedding and the bride had gone for the whole white silk taffeta and lace Lady Di look, right down to the long train – though mercifully not quite as long as the royal original – and a glittering tiara to hold her veil.
The bodice of the dress was fitted and lightly boned to the waist, but then a crinoline under the billowing skirt made it a huge meringue.
The sleeves were puffed and full from shoulder to elbow, then lace to the wrists.
She hadn’t gone for the big, frilly collar of the original, but that was the only main difference.
The bride herself had packed and sent her dress to us, with a letter telling the whole story of her wedding disaster … and also inadvertently revealing a lot more about her character and motivation for marrying than I’m sure she ever intended!
As well as being old enough to be her grandfather, the groom had extremely high blood pressure, and the excitement of the day led him to have a massive nosebleed at the altar, before collapsing into her arms with a minor heart attack. She wrote:
But luckily, it happened just after we’d been declared man and wife and he was bending to kiss me. As you can see, the whole front of my dress was soaked in blood, right through to the petticoat, and of course, I couldn’t change it until I got to the wedding reception venue hours later, where we were also to spend that night! I had to go in the ambulance with poor Archie just as I was, so you can imagine how everyone stared at me in the hospital! Archie wasOK, but they wanted to keep him in overnight, and since all our guests had gone on to the reception, he insisted I should go and join them.
Not surprisingly, the first thing she did when she got there was to change out of her wedding dress, which she stuffed into a suitcase, along with her stained satin and lace shoes. Then she tossed in the veil for good measure, even though it had escaped largely unscathed.
You might think this was a classic gold-digging young woman and a besotted elderly groom, but there was a happy-ever-after, of sorts.
Archie joined me at the hotel next day and we spent a quiet honeymoon there. Of course, his family were against the wedding, not only because of the age difference, but because he’d very sweetly altered his will in my favour just before the ceremony. But of course I was very, very fond of him and made him extremely happy for the rest of his life … unfortunately only just over a year from our marriage.
Fiona Stornaway might have been a gold-digger, but one with a heart, and probably she really had been fond of her elderly husband and made his last months happy, even if marrying her had speeded up his demise!
Fiona continued,
Anyway I saw the article about your museum and, since I had no idea what to do with the dress, I thought you might like to have it and put it on display, though it’s a total wreck! I’ve enclosed a photo of me wearing it, before I set out for the church.
Fiona had had the Lady Di hairdo, too, though not the pink cheeks and the sweet and nervous smile. Instead, her pretty face wore what I could only describe as an expression of triumph.
When I told my mother what I was doing, she insisted on sending the dress to be cleaned before we gave it to you, but after so long stuffed in that suitcase, it hasn’t exactly come up like new, as you can see.
That was an understatement, for there was still heavy staining visible and, since she had packed it in a box to send to us, even more crumpling of the skirt than when Lady Di got out of herwedding carriage, so I thought perhaps a little very cautious steam pressing was in order.
*
Next morning, when I’d finished working on Fiona’s dress, I took it straight upstairs and set it up in one of the cases along the wall in the Bloody Brides room. I found it a bit of a struggle, since the billowing folds, not to mention the huge crinoline, kept threatening to swamp me like a tsunami.
I was also constantly interrupted by calls and texts from George, who was anxious to know that everything was ready to receive the Rosa-May collection – the lighting, humidity, etc., etc ….
After what I hoped was the final call, I fetched a stool from my workroom to stand on while I fixed the sparkling tiara and veil on to the mannequin’s head – and then there she was, seemingly poised for action …
