Page 16 of The Wedding Dress Repair Shop
‘I do, and you’re talented as well as beautiful,’ he said. ‘Marco is a lucky man!’
The door behind him opened and a high and carrying voice called his name imperatively.
‘I’d better get back before the she-devil comes and drags me off,’ he said ruefully, and darted back into the room.
My pride had been a little assuaged by his evident admiration, drunken or not, but it was still with a huge feeling of release that I stepped out into the street and headed away.
When I let myself into my cosy and shabby little flat later, it was with a sigh of relief to be home again.
7
Changeling
I changed into jeans and T-shirt, then made myself scrambled eggs on toast, which I ate sitting in front of the telly, though since my mind was elsewhere I couldn’t have told you what was on it, until the news came on, when I surfaced to find myself holding an empty tub of cookie-dough ice cream.
Golightly oozed in at that point and stared meaningfully at the tub like a famished orphan, all huge yellow eyes.
‘It’s ice cream, not mouse cream,’ I told him. ‘And if you haven’t eaten your dinner today, it’s your own fault for being so picky.’
He pulled one of his gargoyle faces, but came and jumped on his favourite chair, where he crouched like some very odd heraldic beast. A blue-grey catcouchant.
I was feeling a bit better, though I couldn’t suppress a suspicion that Marco, with his theatrical star in the ascendant, was getting too good an opinion of himself lately and perhaps valued my support and reassurance much less than he once had.
As to my own profession, I’d always suspected that he thought costumier was nothing more than another name for adressmaker, and that Mummy did too, which made me a totally unsuitable candidate as a wife.
I pushed down the small voice in my head that whispered that, in that case, perhapshewasn’t the right kind of husband forme.
Tonight had been something of a reality check, and the thought of a lifetime of socializing with his friends – especially the old ones he’d still kept up with – made my heart sink. I’d never make a good social hostess like Mummy, that was for sure.
Recently I’d seen less and less of the side of Marco that had endeared him to me and made me fall in love with him: the vulnerable, unconfident side under the bravado and sophistication, the Marco who had wanted my constant reassurance and support.
And I mean, although I know not everyone likes red hair, I am aware that I can look quite striking when I make the effort and Marco used to be proud to be seen with me.
But tonight, it had taken Wilfric’s interest to make him sit up and take notice, and even then I was almost immediately sidelined and forgotten.
I turned off the TV and switched on the radio, tuned to the BBC World Service instead, which is like a kind of lucky dip: you never know what you’re going to find on there.
While I listened and Golightly purred in a bronchial wheeze, as if he had a leaky gasket, I started quilting a miniature silk underskirt for one of my mannequin costumes. It was to go under a panniered seventeenth-century overdress, which would be open and looped back at the front to show it off – all very fiddly on that scale!
I was so engrossed in my work that I lost track of time, untilmy mobile suddenly buzzed like an angry bee and almost made me swallow a mouthful of tiny, glass-headed pins.
The phone was still at the bottom of my tapestry shoulder bag, but when I fished it out, Marco was on the other end of it, sounding exasperated.
‘Garland? What took you so long to answer – are you at home?’ he demanded. ‘And why on earth did you sneak off early from the party like that, without a word to me?’
‘Oh, you’ve finally noticed I’m not there?’ I said sarcastically, looking at the clock. ‘It took you a while.’
‘The party’s over now, but when I couldn’t see you earlier, I just assumed you were in one of the other rooms talking to people. You’re so small I’m never surprised if I can’t spot you.’
‘I’m notthatsmallandI had heels on,’ I said crossly. ‘Since I knew practically no one there and most of them, like you, were in a huddle talking theatre shop, I got bored when you didn’t come back and couldn’t see any point in staying longer.’
‘Bored?’ he repeated, sounding incredulous. ‘How could you be bored? And in any case, why not tell me you were leaving? I only knew you’d headed home because Wilfric told me you’d said so when he’d spoken to you in the hall earlier.’
‘Iwouldhave told you if you hadn’t still been in a huddle with Mirrie and some of the rest of the cast, andshe’dalready made it plain she wanted to discuss somethingimportantwith you and I was surplus to requirements, hadn’t she?’
‘You could at least have told Mummy you were going, since she was your hostess, but she says you didn’t even thank her for the party.’
‘Your mother hates me, Marco, and she didn’t invite me –youdid. I’m surprised Wilfric didn’t tell you straight away that he’d seen me leaving, but he probably forgot. He’s very nice,’ Iadded, feeling cross enough to stir the pot a little, ‘and rather handsome.’
