I spotted a free table in the middle of the row and heading straight for it, I plonked myself and my bags down. With the chair taking my weight, my burning feet had never felt so appreciative. I smiled at the young couple sat next to me. If they hadn’t been eating, I’d have taken off my runners and given my toes and heels a much-needed rub.
“Here you go,” Sal said, reappearing with a tray of goodies. She lifted off a latte and placed it in front of me. “Will this do you?” She passed me a side plate on which sat a huge piece of red velvet sponge.
“You’re an angel,” I said. Just looking at it, I could taste the hint of cocoa and cream cheese frosting and as Sal set her own drink down and put the tray to one side, I picked up my fork and dived straight in. I closed my eyes. “Heavenly,” I said, as soon as the smooth, soft texture hit my tongue.
“Can I?” Sal said, indicating my Vivienne Westwood paper carrier bag.
“If you must.”
Sal giggled as she picked it up. Pulling out the shoebox, she stroked and admired it, before lifting off the lid to reveal the delights within. “They’re simply beautiful,” she said. “Classic and modern at the same time.” She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I’m so jealous of you right now, you wouldn’t believe.”
According to the shop assistant, the blush pink shoes were made in Italy from recycled satin. They were a peep-toe design and had a gold buckle on the strap that fastened around the ankle. Finished with a leather outer sole and heel, the shoe’s fabric had been laser cut to create slashed detailing. They were a far cry from any footwear I was used to.
Sal popped the lid back on and secreted the box back into the bag. “Once the wedding’s over,” she said, as she handed everything back, “you’d better keep wearing them. Shoes like that should be shown off. Not dumped at the bottom of the wardrobe never to be seen again.”
I laughed. “At that price, I’ll definitely be getting my money’s worth. I’ll never have them off.”
“Tess!” a woman’s voice rang out.
Glancing over Sal’s shoulder, I spotted a woman waving my way as she dashed towards us. Frowning, I wondered who she was.
“I thought it was you.” The woman looked from me to my sister. “And Sal too. How lovely to see you both.”
The woman, who I put in her forties, wore a crisp white shirt and grey linen trousers. A red barrel handbag hung off her forearm and her hair was short in a pixie-cut style. Taking in her smile, I sort of recognised her, but as my mind raced, I couldn’t place where from.
“It’s me. Cousin Annie,” she said. “I’m not surprised you didn’t realise.” She put a hand up to her hair. “I’m trying out a new look.”
“Oh, yes,” Sal said, her face lighting up. “Annie.”
The name did not mean anything to me.
“So how have you been?” my sister asked.
“Good, thanks. Busy with the children, of course.” Her expression turned proud. “And Derek finally got his promotion.”
“That’s wonderful to hear,” Sal said, while I wondered who the hell Derek was.
Annie directed her attention back to me. “And I believe you’re soon to be married?”
I shifted in my seat and while I smiled on the outside, on the inside I wondered how the woman, who, to all intents and purposes, was a stranger, would know that.
“Your mum was telling me all about it,” Annie said.
I pursed my lips. Of course she was. Having told anyone and everyone, by all means available, why wouldn’t Mum break the news to a cousin I couldn’t even remember.
“She’s ever so excited about it,” Annie said.
“She certainly is,” I replied.
“Not long to go now though, eh?” Annie sighed. “A September wedding. The perfect time of year, don’t you think?”
“One of the reasons we chose it,” I said, keeping my tone light.
“Not too hot, not too cold,” Sal said.
Eyes wide, Annie looked at me direct. “I can’t wait to receive my invite.”
Her tone went up at the end and I wasn’t sure if she’d asked me a question or assumed there was an invitation in the post.
