My tears of happiness and relief refused to stop, and lost for words thanks to Marianne’s overwhelming kindness, all I could do was nod.
Chapter 36
“Ican’t believe we’re doing this,” Sal said. “When was the last time we had a fun day out together?”
My sister and I couldn’t have been more different. A fun day in my book involved a picnic in the forest, a trip to the seaside, or sitting on my sofa with my feet up reading a good book. It most certainly didn’t involve a train ride into the city, to spend hours trawling the shops, hunting for something I could easily have ordered from the comfort of home and have delivered straight to the door. “A while ago,” I said. I stared out of the window watching the world go by as we got nearer and nearer to our destination.
“You are allowed to show your excitement, you know. You don’t have to keep it to yourself.”
My face broke into a smile. “I’m sorry,” I said, giving her my full attention. “You know me. I don’t have a clue when it comes to fashion and it’s not like I ever go anywhere to wear fancy clothes and high heels.”
“That’s why we’re doing this together. You can’t get married in a dress made by someone like Marianne only to stick a pair of trainers on your feet. We need to find something in keeping. More exclusive.”
I let out a laugh. “Expensive, you mean.”
Sal chuckled. “Probably.”
“What about you and India? You’re both getting new dresses too.”
“I know. And I can’t tell you how ecstatic I am about it. My very own Zane Rafferty dress.”
“Not exactly, Sal.”
“It’s as good as. Marianne and Zane did work closely together.” Sal came over all dreamy. “Who’d have thought it back in the day, eh? When I was pining over the man.” She snapped herself back into the present. “Thank you, Tess. It’s because of your struggles that I’m getting this dress and I won’t forget it. As for our shoes, me and India can sort ourselves out another time. Today is about you.”
The train began to slow as it approached Leeds City station. Coming to a stop, Sal and I rose to our feet and, along with our fellow passengers, disembarked. While we walked at a normal pace, everyone around us seemed to race toward the exit. Watching them dodge and weave around each other to get there first, I was reminded why I didn’t go to the city very often. I much preferred the calm of the countryside to the metropolitan bustle. Unlike Sal, I noted, who was buzzing.
“I hope you’ve brought your credit card,” she said. “Retail therapy, here we come.”
Whereas I’d have been more than happy to source my wedding shoes online, for a shopaholic like my sister, Leeds wasn’t justtheplace to go, it was paradise. After dragging me from store to store, I didn’t doubt that by the end of the day I’d be as spent as my savings.
A business-type chap bumped into my shoulder as he hurried past.
My sister frowned. “Excuse me!” Sal called after him when no apology was forthcoming.
“Sal,” I said, embarrassed by her outburst.
“What? Someone’s got to stick up for you because you don’t stick up for yourself.” She shook her head, glaring at the chap as he disappeared into the crowd. “Some people.”
Jostling our way off the platform, we stepped out onto the street. I looked around, confused, with no idea as to the direction we should take.
Sal grinned. “Don’t worry,” she said, linking her arm through mine. “I know exactly which way to go.”
Guiding me along one thoroughfare after another, we arrived at Victoria Quarter, an arcade full of theatrical grandeur in the heart of the city’s shopping area. A spectacular Grade-II listed landmark, it was designed by Frank Matcham back in 1900, the very same architect who designed the London Palladium. It wasn’t a place I visited often, but I knew exactly what to expect.
“Sal, this is so not me,” I said. Home to the likes of Louis Vuitton, Mulberry, Reiss and a huge five-floor Harvey Nichols, the place couldn’t have been more out of my comfort zone.
Sal smiled. “After you,” she said, completely ignoring my complaint.
As I did as I was told, I couldn’t deny the place’s magnificence and I immediately admired its marble columns, pink terracotta facades, gilt mosaics and wrought-iron detail. Awed by the splendour, my gaze moved upwards to the stained-glass roof that sat above stunning intricate murals. “You wouldn’t think this area used to be all slaughterhouses and slums,” I said, turning my attention to the lines of traditional rich-mahogany shopfronts.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sal said. “Now come on.”
Pulling me along with her, our search for the perfect shoes began in earnest. But while my sister swooned at display after display, my heart sank further and further. No matter the shop, label or cost, I simply couldn’t find anything I liked. Everything was too high, or too fancy, and when I did try a pair on, too uncomfortable.
“Shoe shopping should not be this hard,” Sal said, as we exited yet another store.
“Time for a break?” I asked, hopeful. “A cup of coffee, maybe?”
