As I look at the line of pink running straight down the front of my skirt my voice rises. ‘I’ve totalled another dress! Jess will fire me for sure.’
Lando winces. ‘Another dress that’s more expensive than a flat in Mayfair?’
I sigh. ‘This one’s Seraphina Unplugged rather than couture. So maybe half a flat.’
Lando springs in front of me and pulls a packet from his pocket. ‘Lucky for you, Oliver sent me armed with pure-water bamboo wipes.’ He’s already got one in his hand as he drops to his knees at my feet. ‘If you’ll allow me to put my hand on the wrong side of the fabric, I’ll dab out as much of the stain as I can while you wait. The rest should come out later with a weak vinegar solution.’
I look across at Tia. ‘What do you think?’
Lando’s already spreading the fabric across his palm. ‘No worries, the juice has gone through to the lining, but it’s already coming out.’ He glances up at me as he works, and there’s a glint of pure mischief. ‘So long as no one makes any cracks about me putting my hand up your skirt, you’ll be good as new in no time.’
It gets worse as he gets up to knicker level, but as his cuff grazes my tummy, I stare straight ahead and hold my nerve.
Eventually he jumps to his feet and laughs. ‘Lucky for both of us I didn’t have to go as far as that padded bra you mentioned earlier.’ Then he looks at his phone and back at Tia. ‘If that’s everything, I hope you don’t mind me rushing off? Any time you need me, you know where I am.’
We listen to his footsteps echo right along the length of the gallery back to the street, and then I turn to Tia.
‘Like we’d ever call on him again.’
She laughs too. ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it? It’s as if he knew how seriously cute you two looked together eating your pies.’
My jaw drops. ‘You are joking me?’
Tia looks at me. ‘First you jump in the harbour and now you tip strawberries all down your front. You don’t see a significance there?’
I jump in. ‘Of course I do. It’s a sign that the man wreaks havoc wherever he goes! He always has.’
Tia puts her arm around me. ‘It’s okay. I’m only teasing. Well done for this morning. It can’t have been easy,’
My breath is coming in shudders. ‘But it’s over. And now we can get back to life as it was before Saturday.’ In my head I’m waving Lando goodbye forever, and ignoring a tiny part of me that’s sad that it’s over. ‘How about we change into new dresses and try out a few more locations?’
Tia laughs. ‘To make the most of the sun, or to prove we can do this without Lando?’
I shrug. ‘The first, obviously.’ Then I remember who I’m talking to. ‘I’d hate to think we only got good shots because a man was holding the camera.’
‘I’m pretty sure the success was down to you, but thanks for being honest.’ Tia pulls me into a hug. ‘We’ll see what dresses Sera can spare us next, then let’s head to the beach.’
9
The sea front, St Aidan, Cornwall
Sprats, mackerel and peeling paint
Tuesday
It could be worse. It turns out Tia’s careful choice of dresses from the trunk show sale rail has saved me from major financial ruin, so there’s another dress heading for the cleaners, but at least I get to keep my job.
There’s a slight delay back at the shop when Tia has to go to the office to take a call, but an hour later we’re out again, and my wrap-around dress with its cascades of ragged layered edges couldn’t be more different from the slinkier slips I’ve worn previously. We sit outside Jaggers Bar and film ourselves downing a couple of colourful cocktails, share a couple of private WTAF? moments over Lando’s take on children, then stop at the first hut on this part of the beach where the Sardine Club sign from our childhood is still hanging over the entrance.
We pose on the rickety wooden steps, and I twirl to let the wind catch the fullness of my skirt. ‘Who’d have thought I’d love a dress with this many frills!’
Tia catches hold of the hem and examines the exquisite tatters of tulle and lace. ‘That’s why brides adore Sera’s styles; they’re all beautiful, but they’re so light and easy to wear.’
I catch her eye. ‘No need to ask which designer you’ll be going for when the time comes.’ My smile widens. ‘You won’t be able to choose anything you’ve worn already!’
Tia tosses back her veil. ‘Obviously not.’ Then she grabs my phone and looks through the photos we’ve taken. ‘I’ll film you walking. Your boho dress looks better with the backdrop of peeling paint, and I’m not really in the mood today.’
I stop. ‘Is everything okay?’
