Page 40 of A Midnight Kiss on Ever After Street
It’s amazing to see customers rifling through rails and holding dresses up to the mirror. When a dress is priced at a few hundred pounds, people are scared to look at it, never mind touch it, but now they’re stroking fabric and matching up shoes. People are recommending things for their friends, shouting at them to come and see, snapping photos and sending text messages telling friends they’d better get down here fast, and rushing towards the changing rooms with armfuls of dresses that I never thought would see the light of day again.
Within a couple of hours, Scarlett’s had to cancel a shift at Rapunzel’s because we’re so busy. I have a rail full of alterations to do, and we’re restocking constantly, and even with both of us, it’s impossible to keep up.
By late afternoon, the initial rush has calmed down, and Scarlett and I are both exhausted but in a good way. I’m in the window, replacing yet another dress that’s been sold and covering a naked mannequin’s modesty for the fourth time today when I see Witt coming down the street, or rather, staggering towards the shop under the weight of something heavy, and I quickly do up the one-shoulder blue tulle dress and clamber down from the display as he comes in. ‘Hello!’
He’s struggling under the weight of an armful of old books, but he stops in the doorway to look around in surprise. ‘This place looks like an actual clothing shop. Even on the way down, I heard people buzzing about it. There are people carrying your branded paper bagseverywhere. I’m so happy for you.’
‘Me too,’ Scarlett calls from the back of the shop, where she’s making the most of the lull between customers to tidy a rail for the umpteenth time.
He looks at me and inclines his head towards the counter. ‘Have you got time to look at something?’
He heaves the books onto the counter with a heavy thud and I follow him across the shop.
‘Sorry I’m late.’ His hand brushes mine. ‘I got so caught up in what I was doing at the castle. I thought you might like these?’
‘What are they?’ My fingers trace over the edges of the stack of old books.
‘Old fashion books. They must’ve belonged to the viscountess. She had her own private library and I found them in it.’
I pull the top one down and the spine creaks with age as I open it. The pages are yellowed and there’s age damage to the covers, but they’re beautiful coffee-table books that would’ve been hideously expensive in their time. There are catalogues of designer collections from decades past, along with book after book on the history of fashion, from the twentieth century and as far back as Georgian times.
Scarlett’s gone behind the counter and traces a finger over the designs on the pages, iconic dresses that probably weren’t iconic back when these were drawn. It’s like we’ve stepped back in time and are seeing the future before it happens. I can’t help inhaling because they smell papery and delicious. ‘Someone loved these, once.’
He makes that noise in his throat again. ‘I know you draw on fashions of the past for some of your designs and I thought they might be useful to you.’
‘Oh, Witt, these are beautiful. Thank you.’ I close one and take another from the stack and leaf through it carefully. I’m standing next to him so I nudge his arm and make him meet my eyes again.
I’m stupidly touched. I love books and I love the fashions of days gone by, and even in such a short time, he already knows me better than most people who have been in my life for years. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yep. I’ve got strict instructions to get rid of everything. Charity, landfill, or somewhere in between.’ He indicates me and it makes me laugh.
‘There you go with the compliments again.’ I’m grinning and he’s grinning, and neither of us can take our eyes off each other.
‘That’s really sad.’ Scarlett has to slam a book shut to get our attention back on the task at hand, presumably meaning the castle clearance and not the way I’m looking at him. ‘It must be full of stuff that meant so much to someone once.’
‘Once,’ he says pointedly and turns to me. ‘Speaking of stuff, can I ask you something?’
I nod, hoping he can’t see me swallow. This question puts me on edge every time he asks it.
‘When you said your mum was a dresser for the viscountess… did you mean thefirstviscountess?’
I look at him in confusion. ‘There was more than one?’
‘So the stories go.’ He shrugs. ‘The viscount and the first viscountess were married for decades of blissful happiness, until she died. A few years later, he remarried an evil gold digger who gold-dug him into an early grave, so they say.’
‘I never knew that.’ I look at Scarlett and she shakes her head too.
‘I was trying to sort the dates out in my head. When would your mum and dad have worked there?’
‘It was one of my mum’s first jobs. The viscountess happened upon one of her designs and employed her straight away, even though she lacked experience. My mum was nineteen when she started, so it would’ve been the… early seventies?’
‘So itwasthe first viscountess. The good one. The viscount didn’t remarry until the end of the eighties.’ His face breaks into a smile. ‘I’m going through her things and there are a load of dresses, and there’s something about them that reminds me of you. I’m wondering if they might be your mum’s work?’
Oh my God. It had never crossed my mind that things like that could still be there. Frozen in time, like the rest of the castle. My emotions are instantly on edge. I’ve never known anything about the viscount or apparent viscountesses, and I’d never given a second thought to thethingsinside the castle, and the thought of dresses my mum made all those years ago still being in existence is a little bit mind-blowing.
I feel like Witt can see every emotion surging through my head because he’s chewing his lip as he watches me. ‘Do you want to come and see?’
‘More than anything, but I’m worki—’
