23
Finula and Megan slumped down at the first empty table they found in the coffee shop. It had been a harassing morning to say the least. Megan thought how lucky she was to have found her wedding dress pretty quickly. Not so Finula. Everything they’d looked at just hadn’t been right. All attempts to cajole Finula by the persistent shop assistants were met with a shake of the head, a frown, a polite “I don’t think so” or an outright laugh. Megan was beginning to lose heart. Would her friend ever find anything to suit her?
‘Why don’t you just get one made?’ asked Megan after they’d both ordered cappuccinos and a sandwich.
‘Because I don’t know what to ask for.’
‘You must havesomeidea, Fin,’ replied Megan with a touch of frustration. She was beginning to feel sorry for Marcus and understood why he was taking the typical man back-seat approach.
‘I’ll know it, when I see it,’ Finula replied with conviction. ‘It’s just a matter of time.’
‘The wedding’s in July, Finula; you haven’t got much time,’ added Megan dryly as their lunch arrived. The sight of a nice, warm cup of coffee and a bite to eat were welcome, after trailing round all the wedding gown shops the Cotswolds had to offer. They’d clocked up quite a few miles and both girls were exhausted. And still no dress. Still, they had bought Finula’s wedding shoes and decided on the ladies’ favours for the tables – organic, handmade mini soaps. But the main item, the dress, was proving more difficult to find by the hour.
‘So what’s little Edward up to today?’ Finula smiled and then tucked into her sandwich. The mention of her son always made Megan beam.
‘His daddy is taking him for a stroll round the estate apparently.’
‘Showing him the ropes a little early, isn’t he?’ Finula laughed and Megan joined in.
‘He’s got a meeting with the estate manager this afternoon. No doubt he’ll have Edward in on that too,’ she joked.
After finishing their lunch, the predicament of the unobtainable wedding dress was discussed.
‘So, you’re sure you don’t likeanyof the dresses we’ve seen so far?’ reiterated Megan.
‘Absolutely, they’re all so… fussy. What happened to old-fashioned simplicity? Without all this need for layers of lace and frills?’
‘Hmm.’ Megan’s mind pictured the sepia photograph of her gran’s wedding day, where she stood outside the registry office in an elegant turquoise satin tea dress. Then an idea came to her. ‘Finula, have you thought about second-hand dresses?’
‘You mean from a charity shop?’ Finula frowned.
‘Not necessarily – there could be a website that deals with vintage clothing. It’s worth a try, especially if you want that timeless, graceful look.’
‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’ Finula took out her phone and started searching. Within seconds her face lit up. ‘Look!The Oxfam online shop is the home of beautiful second-hand bridal wear, offering a wide choice of gorgeous dresses, shoes and accessories. From strapless to lace, vintage bridal wear to ex-catwalk, you can find your dream wedding dress with Oxfam.’ She spoke with excitement, showing Megan her phone. Together they scrolled through the many dresses, dating back to decades ago. ‘This is more like it.’ Finula eyed the pictures with glee, then suddenly stopped. ‘This is it. That’s the one.’
Megan read out the description. ‘A vintage, unbranded, sleeveless wedding gown in ivory silk. Size 10.’ Turning to her friend she clasped her arm. ‘Finula, it’s perfect!’ They both hugged each other with relief.
