As she looks up from her phone, she spots the shop she has been aiming for. The sign above the door is painted seashell pink and gold and, in the window, stands an ivory gown in flowing silk with a short train that ripples along the floor.
The door is locked, but a salesperson dressed in a chic navy jumpsuit and nude heels looks up from the counter and heads across to open it. Kate can glimpse Leonie and the rest of the group, minus Emma, sitting on a dusty pink velvet sofa at the back of the store sipping prosecco.
‘Sorry I’m late.’
The shop assistant’s professional smile droops as she spots the pram.
‘Are you bringing that in?’ She glances from the pram to the narrow doorway and back again.
‘Unless you want me to leave my daughter out in the street?’
Rosie lets out a little grumble as if affronted at the thought.
‘Of course, of course,’ comes the quick response, a polished smile appearing on her face again as she unbolts the door, rattling it forcefully until it opens.
Together, the two of them just about manage to manoeuvre the pram up the steps and inside. The salesperson looks distinctly put out.Try doing that across half of London, Kate wants to say. But she smiles widely instead. ‘Thank you so much, I really appreciate your help.’
There’s laughter coming from the back of the room and as Kate approaches, everyone leaps up to greet her, but Leonie places a finger on her lips. ‘Shh! We don’t want to ruin the surprise,’ she whispers, then turns to Kate and gives her a tighthug. ‘She’s just trying on the first dress. It’s sooooo good to see you, Kate.’
A lump rises in her throat at the familiar smell of her friend’s Calvin Klein perfume and the strength of the embrace. She gives a little wave to the other bridesmaids: there’s Emma’s sister, Clara, who seems to be taking the role of maid of honour extremely seriously, with a clipboard in hand and professional make-up, plus some old school friends and a cousin who Kate remembers meeting at various birthdays over the years. Emma’s mum, Caren, is here too, her glass of prosecco nearly empty and her cheeks slightly flushed.
‘Oooh! Pass her here!’ Caren says as soon as she sees the pram.
Kate dressed Rosie in a puffy yellow dress for the occasion and everyone ‘aww’s as she hands her over to Caren, flashing matching yellow bloomers and very chubby little legs.
‘She’s just gorgeous!’ Caren says, trying to keep her voice quiet. Seeing the way the women coo over her and watching as Rosie soaks it all up, batting her long lashes and making suitably adorable noises, something swells inside Kate’s chest.
There’s a sound of rustling and suddenly the curtain of the changing room is flung open to reveal Emma, absolutely radiant in a plunging white ballgown. Her mouth opens in shock. For a brief moment, Kate’s stomach clenches with fear. It’s so good to be back in London and to see Leonie, but maybe she should have told Emma she’d be coming, given her time to process her feelings rather than just showing up like this.
‘Kate!’ she cries, a look of unfiltered happiness spreading across her face. ‘I’m so happy to see you!’
Kate is suddenly being folded up in a bundle of white taffeta and the fiercest of hugs. The knot in her stomach releases.
‘I wouldn’t have missed it,’ she says into her friend’s armpit, struggling to get her words out as all the air is squeezed out of her. ‘I’m sorry for before.’
Emma steps back, holding Kate at arm’s length. Then she glances over towards the rest of the group, spotting the pram. ‘And Rosie too!’
‘I hope it’s OK that I brought her?’
‘Ofcourseit’s OK. It’s more than OK. Oh my God, look at her! She’s such a little angel!’
Kate glances over to where Rosie is letting herself be passed around between the women, totally calm.
‘Um, can we talk about you and this dress?’ Kate says, returning her attention to her friend, who does a little twirl, the long train swishing along the floor. ‘You look absolutely beautiful, Em.’ Kate’s eyes grow misty.
Caren is full-on sobbing and Clara passes her a tissue from her clutch bag; she’s clearly come prepared.
‘Yes, you look amazing, Em,’ says Leonie, the other bridesmaids echoing.
‘I feel like a princess!’ Emma says delightedly, her face giddy with happiness. ‘But, obviously, a very empowered princess who doesn’t need rescuing and does princessing part-time alongside her badass career.’
‘Wow, that’s quite a vibe,’ laughs Leonie. ‘But, seriously, babe. You’re a knockout.’
Kate can’t speak. She suddenly can’t believe she nearly missed out on this moment, on seeing her friend so happy andbeing able to share in that glow as if Emma’s joy is a campfire and they’re all huddled around, soaking up the warmth.
‘It’s a bit long, though,’ Emma says, swishing the skirt, her feet buried beneath the fabric.
‘These are just samples!’ chips in the hovering shop assistant. ‘If you choose a dress with us, it will be precisely made to your measurements, with several fittings and rounds of alterations.’
