‘Enough of the we,’ said Indy indignantly. ‘You’re ten years younger than me. If you can go with dignity and gravitas, I need to go in long trailing dresses like an elderly lady.’
‘Don’t listen to a word of it. That one can wear anything,’ Eden said in mock despair.
‘True,’ said Chantal, ‘but so can you.’
‘You’re definitely my favourite sister-in-law,’ said Eden, giving her a hug.
In the dressing room there were lots of beautifully cut exquisite clothes hanging up and Indy and Eden had a glorious half-hour examining things and going, ‘Oh, I’d never have picked that up.’
Chantal stood outside and said, ‘No, I know you wouldn’t have, but trust me, this is what I do, this is what I see.’
Which is how Indy came out wearing a very elegant dress with a scalloped, deep neck which went into a boned bodice and out to a flowing skirt. It was an elegant sky blue colour and she twirled around admiring herself.
‘I’d never wear something like this,’ she said, ‘never.’
‘I know,’ said Chantal. ‘You wear jeans, flat shoes and Steve’s sweatshirts.’ She shuddered.
‘And your uniform,’ interrupted Eden.
‘But it’s handy, it’s handy to put on Steve’s sweatshirts,’ said Indy looking at herself from behind. ‘I look—’
‘— wonderful.’
Then it was Eden’s turn. The trousers were so beautifully cut that they made her look the ten pounds lighter that she’d hoped to be. And the tiny jacket made of silk and cashmere clung to her like a little cardigan and yet with the shape of a jacket. The entire ensemble was a dusty-pink colour, like peony petals about to turn, a colour she’d never have worn, never have picked.
‘I’m amazed,’ she said, ‘literally amazed.’
‘This is my job,’ said Chantal.
‘Truly my favourite sister-in-law,’ Indy said again, and Chantal laughed.
‘Now we’re paying full whack for this, no discounts,’ Eden went on.
‘Excuse me,’ Chantal could be stern when she wanted to be, ‘let this be my gift to you; a discount. It is my discount from the shop.’
Once everything was parcelled up and both Indy and Eden had looked with relief at the discount because the shop Chantal worked in was not cheap, the three of them went off for coffee.
‘I only have twenty minutes,’ Chantal said.
‘I’ve got to pick up the girls,’ said Indy.
‘I’ve got a meeting,’ said Eden, ‘I wish I could wear this. That’s the thing about new clothes, I always want to wear them now.’
‘What are the girls wearing at the special dinner, the rehearsal dinner?’ Chantal asked Indy.
And for a moment Eden could see the longing in Chantal’s eyes, the longing of a woman who adores children and can say nothing.
Before she even thought about it, she said, ‘You love children, don’t you?’ And Chantal’s face suddenly closed up. ‘It’s OK, we love you, you can say it to us.’
‘I’ve always wondered,’ Indy said, ‘why you and Rory don’t have any.’
The closing up of her face, which had been so efficient a minute earlier, changed and Chantal’s big eyes filled with tears.
‘It’s private, I can’t talk about it,’ she said as the tears began to roll down her face.
‘But you want children. It’s something I see a lot in my work,’ said Indy carefully. ‘Generally, I see people when they are giving birth or about to give birth. But, quite often early on in the process there are couples where one person wants a baby and the other one doesn’t, but that’s normal, it happens. And yet by the time the baby is being born, they’re both eager.’
‘You mean I should somehow con your sister?’ Chantal said laughing, half laughing and wiping away the tears. ‘That might work in straight relationships, but not when there are two women involved.’
