Page 79 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

‘No, no – keep it on! Easier to measure that way. Let’s ring it up down here and then I’ll take you up to ninth.’

I put the purchase on my credit card, praying that my future efforts to ramp up my speechwriting business would be able to take the hit for this present-day extravagance.

Once I was all measured up – which involved having to stand on an actual plinth – I disappeared into the fitting room to get my regular clothes back on. I reached around my back and grasped the clasp of the pink zipper and tugged. Nothing happened. I tugged again. Nope. I swapped hands, hoping that tugging from a different angle might somehow work.

It. Didn’t. Work.

‘Umm, Anneka, could you come in here a sec?’

She appeared in the cubicle disconcertingly quickly.

‘I’m… stuck,’ I whispered, gesturing in the general direction of the zip.

‘Of course you’re not stuck. Here, let me…’ Anneka tugged on the zipper. There was still zero movement. She tugged harder. And then harder still.

RIIIIIIPPPPPPP.

‘Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!’ we both whispered, simultaneously.

‘How bad is it?’ I asked, trying to peer over my shoulder and angle my body correctly so I could see the damage in the mirror, but Anneka kept readjusting her position to block my reflection.

‘It’s… not ideal. But let me handle this.’ Anneka slapped on a smile and stepped outside the cubicle. ‘Cassidy!’ she called brightly to the sales assistant, with whom she was now on first-name terms. ‘We have a slight problem…’

Anneka’s voice faded to nothing as she steered Cassidy outside of the room to discuss what had happened away from the ears of the alterations team. I finally caught sight of the damage to the back of the jumpsuit and gasped – the entire zip fastening was hanging off, the frayed edges of the stitches – and half of my back – exposed for the world to see.

I slumped down into the corner of the fitting room and put my head in my hands.

Of course this has happened – it was going far too well.

This situation was precisely why I hated clothes shopping – and one of the reasons why I’d avoided going wedding dress shopping earlier this year, despite Laurie’s pleas.

‘Aren’t you intrigued to see what kind of dress you might like, even if you don’t end up buying it from a bridal boutique?’ Laurie had asked me on the phone the day I’d told her about my engagement – and asked her to be my only bridesmaid.

In truth, I had been curious to try on a few dresses, even just for the experience, but three things had held me back. Firstly, the thought of having all that attention on me and me alone in a brightly lit shop made my pores shimmer with micro-pools of liquid. Secondly, I also knew I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about the fact that the salesperson would probably be reliant on commission, making it likely I’d end up making a guilt-fuelled purchase I’d regret. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I knew that Mum and Anneka would have been gutted if I’d gone wedding dress shopping without them. And taking them into a fancy shop was out of the question – knowing them, they would have ended up trying on wedding dresses, too. So I’d decided it would be simpler for everyone involved not to bother. But all I said to Laurie was: ‘Nah, I don’t want to risk falling in love with a dress I can’t afford. Me and Will have already discussed it and we’ll be buying pre-loved outfits – we plan to keep the wedding as cheap as possible so we can save up for our honeymoon.’

To New York.

Will might have been more hands-off than I’d expected him to be when it came to organising our wedding, especially since he was normally such a big planner. But, when it came to researching our future NYC trip, he couldn’t have been more involved. Even though our transatlantic adventure was unlikely to happen until eighteen months after the wedding, we’d already chosen a hotel – a budget but trendy place on the Lower East Side – and favourited dozens of bars and restaurants on Google Maps. Visiting the city at Christmastime was our ultimate travel wish. And now, here I was: in New York without him, cowering in a Manhattan department store experiencing precisely the scenario I’d worked so hard to avoid all those months ago – albeit minus Mum.

Some hushed whispers roused me from my thoughts, and moments later I heard Anneka’s voice outside the curtain. ‘Hey, Flo. Can I come in?’

‘Is it just you?’

‘Just me.’

‘Okay.’

Anneka sidled into the cubicle and, once making sure the curtain was fully drawn, joined me on the floor. She was inexplicably grinning, almost manically.

‘Stay quiet,’ she whispered, still visibly excited.

‘What the hell is going on?’ I whispered back, my pulse quickening.

‘I’ve only just gone and blagged you a huge discount!’

‘How on earth have you managed that?’

‘I told them that you were really upset, how this was meant to be the shopping trip of a lifetime et cetera et cetera.’