But my beloved sisters are here, whooping and hollering and crying all at once.
Whit gives a good ‘Yeah, babe!’
‘Do a spin!’ calls Bridget, who has already chosen her slinky ice-white silk dress.
I acquiesce, and I feel like a princess, until I stop spinning.
The women who I am pretty sure actually do work for a bridal shop help me back to the changing room and make notes for my adjustments – everything always needs to be taken up, even if I’m planning to wear heels.
They leave me alone for a minute to put my normal clothes back on, and I take a second to try to breathe.
God, how did everything go so wrong so quickly?
First, there was that horrible meeting with Patrick’s parents. I’m not sure they could have beenmoreobvious that they don’t like me, don’t approve of what I do, and wish he was still with Peony. He tried to reassure me that they’ll come round, but how am I supposed to win over people who clearly hated me before they met me? I’ve been trying that dance all my life, and I know precisely how far my skill extends. I can sway unsure, I can reassure confused. I cannot ever bring back pure dislike.
Second, I found out that Patrick had, in fact, texted Peony the minute he’d got his phone back to let her know that he was engaged. I don’t know if she ever replied, but his parents took great pleasure (thankfully off camera) in letting Patrick (read: me) know that she was distraught about the whole situation.
‘Carys?’ calls Reb, her hand waggling the curtain. ‘Are you alright? Do you need a hand?’
‘Yes and no,’ I sigh, pulling my dress over my head. ‘Sorry, I just needed a moment.’
‘Okay.’ I hear her hover outside the cubicle. ‘Are you crying?’
I put my fingertips to my cheek and find that I am, in fact, crying. ‘Oh. Yeah.’
‘Do you want me to get your sisters?’
‘No. It’s alright,’ I say quickly.
If Ang and Del come in here, it’ll all come out. I’m glad that they could come today, I really am. But I feel like my chest is a Pandora’s jar (no, it wasn’t a box) threatening to burst open with all the feelings I’m cramming in there.
Horrible imagery, really.
I have to mask for the camera and for all the other contestants, and that means my sisters too.
To be honest, everyone feels a little off today. Maybe it’s just the presence of family. While Bridget is decidedly ecstatic, she has toned down quite how many swear words she uses, and chatters away with her mum in Welsh.
Whit sits upright with the posture of a ballerina.
Dolly, who looks much healthier than when I last saw her, claps along politely but sits alone. I wonder where her mum is. We haven’t spoken yet today but I can’t imagine her being fazed about being here solo. She’s much more independent than me.
And Lina… well, I can’t work out what is going on with her. Her mother, a tiny and very enthusiastic Asian lady who kissed me on the cheeks when I said hello, seems to be putting on a good show, but I see the concern in her eyes when Lina is off camera. I tried to talk to Lina about the fight, but she brushed me off.
‘The last thing I need is Mammy knowing my husband hit someone,’ she sighed, and I really, really wanted to sayisn’t that a bad signbut then it was her turn to try on dresses.
And then there’s me, wondering if Dolly has been rightall along about Patrick still being in love with his ex. I don’t doubt that he’s falling in love with me, because he’s said it a few times. I have strong feelings for him too. But still the spectre of the other woman hangs over me.
The tears run harder now and I realise, in the detached way you might if you have cut yourself by accident at some point, that I’m really upset. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ I mutter, looking for something to dry my eyes with, but there’s only a row of fabric samples hanging from the hook and I really do not think they will take kindly to me using those as a hankie.
‘Do you need a drink of water or something?’ Reb asks, running through the list of things that she can feasibly do.
‘A tissue, please,’ I sniffle.
Reb slips back into the room with a box of tissues. ‘They’re well stocked in here. I guess people are always crying.’
I blow my nose so loudly it makes my ears pop.
‘Go on, girl, get it out,’ Reb says. ‘I didn’t think you had a sound like that in you.’
