Page 39 of Pillow Talk
Shona was about to say something when a leggy beauty with the most stunning face she’d ever seen popped up next to him.
‘Hi,’ the woman said cheerfully.
Shona squeaked a greeting and backed away.
She threw a block of cheese in her trolley and practically ran to the checkout, where she paid without looking over her shoulder, as tears formed in her eyes. Grateful that she had only one bag to carry, she grabbed it and left.
She was halfway back to the apartment with her eyes on the ground when she realised that she was truly alone. She had no one to share her news with about the wedding dress. She stopped along the sidewalk and looked around Rally’s Main Street. The aroma of mutton curry being cooked at the Spice Inn filled the air; Bobby was hanging out her decoupage sheets in the window of Hobby Shop; Malcolm at the pet shop was shooing curious kids out of his store… She knew this street like the back of her hand. And yet for the first time in her life she felt out of place, like she didn’t belong. Like no one loved her. Actually, who did? Right now, she couldn’t think of one person who even liked her.
‘Let me guess: Shona?’
‘Shut up,’ Sen hissed as they drove away from the grocery store.
‘That was awkward and pretty spectacular,’ she pressed.
Sen clenched his jaw.
‘Granddad was right. She is beautiful,’ she went on.
‘Kaavi, are you ever going to shut up?’
His cousin continued. ‘Not likely. I’m loving this. I can’t believe we haven’t been to Rally in more than 20years. It’s like living ina Christmas movie.’
‘You’re delusional,’ Sen replied.
Kaavi was his father’s sister’s daughter. Her dad was a real piece of work and he had an issue with everything. They’d stopped visiting Rally when Kaavi was five because he didn’t like the name of the town. Apparently, it sounded trashy. In order to see them, Sen’s family, including his grandfather, were expected to travel to where they lived – six hours away by road. At first, Sen’s father had wanted to write them off completely, but his love for his sister and his own father’s pleading had persuaded him to back down and drive the distance. Kaavi was her own woman now and, after a five-year stint as a model overseas, she’d returned to visit their grandfather.
‘What went wrong?’
Sen ignored her.
She took her phone out of her handbag and scrolled through social media. ‘What did you say Shona’s surname is?’
‘I didn’t,’ Sen said, his tone flat.
Kaavi began to type. ‘Let’s see if I put in “Shona” and “Rally”. Yes, it worked. Ah, not a private profile. Even better,’ she cried.
Sen ignored her. He was still processing seeing Shona. Why was she dressed up in the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday? Although, he had no room to talk. He’d ditched work to ‘party’ with Kaavi and his grandfather.
‘Wow, Sen. This is amazing!’
Sen changed gear and continued to ignore Kaavi.
‘I can’t believe this. Why didn’t you tell me that she wasthisShona?’
Sen didn’t know what she was talking about.
‘Look, she’s tagged in a post by Felicity Swanson of Perfect Weddings,’ she held the phone out to him.
‘I’m driving,’ he said.
‘Fine. I’ll read it to you: Shona Shah of The First Look BridalShop is making a bold statement. The popular designer is creating Maddie Harper’s wedding dress. Watch this space…’
Kaavi practically shrieked with excitement. ‘Sen, do you know who Maddie Harper is? She’s the heir to Harper’s Airlines.’ Sen slowed down. ‘Shona is designing a wedding dress. Whoa,’ he said softly.
Kaavi turned to look at him.
‘Stop that,’ he said, keeping his eyes on the road.
