hair.’
‘Oh, no. I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that if I’ve no intention of…’ Gemma broke off speaking as the sales assistant returned, with the two dresses each on padded hangers and covered with plastic. The assistant glared at her, then hung the dresses on a hook beside the rubber plant.
‘I’ll fetch a chair for your friend,’ she said, while Nat began stripping off.
‘Oh, no, please don’t trouble yourself,’ Gemma said, but the sales assistant only glared at her again and brought an uncomfortable-looking gilt-backed chair from behind the sales counter. Gemma perched on it. It was as uncomfortable as it looked.
Nat had the black dress on. ‘What do you think?’ She twirled around, admiring herself in the mirror.
‘Not with those shoes,’ Gemma said. Nat was still wearing her red Converse trainers.
‘Obviously. Well, this one’s nothing special. I’ll try the other.’
The peacock dress looked good on Nat, Gemma had to admit. It fitted her perfectly, showed off her lovely legs and curvy waist, and her long black hair was stunning against the glittery top half. ‘Wow. That’s just amazing on you, Nat. Show me the price tag?’
Nat twisted so that Gemma could peer at the label hanging from the zip at the back. ‘There’s no price on it.’
‘I guess, if you have to ask…’ Nat rolled her eyes dramatically and peeled the dress off. Gemma had a fit of the giggles at Nat’s eye-roll, and Nat soon joined in. This was more like it, Gemma thought. The whole shopping trip should have been a girlie giggle, rather than all the snide comments and snippiness. Perhaps Nat’s hangover had finally worn off. It was good to end the day on a high note.
‘What’s the verdict, ladies?’ asked the sales assistant when they exited the changing room.
‘I don’t like the black one on me. The peacock is nice, but aren’t peacock feathers supposed to be bad luck? I’m not sure I could wear it, for that reason. Something awful might happen to me. I’d be constantly fearing for my safety.’ Nat breezed out of the shop. Gemma hurried after her, one hand clamped over her mouth to hold back the laughter that threatened to erupt. The shopping trip had certainly ended on a high.
That evening, Gemma rang her parents to tell them of her engagement. They were as delighted as she’d expected they’d be. Her mother immediately started planning the guest list while her father jokingly grumbled that he supposed he’d have to buy a new suit, even though he’d just retired.
Later, Ben came round to Gemma’s flat for a meal. She’d offered to cook fajitas for him. Their first meal together as an engaged couple! She sang along to Ed Sheeran’s
Thinking Out Loud
as she chopped onions and peppers. Perhaps they should have that song as the first dance at their wedding? It was so romantic; it was definitely one of her favourites. She’d ask Ben later what he thought. He’d probably agree. Dear old Ben, he was generally happy to go along with what other people wanted. Gemma knew already that the wedding preparations would be largely up to her to decide upon. Although no doubt her mum would want to get involved.
She had the tiny table in her kitchen set, the food chopped and ready to quickly cook, and a bottle of wine open when her flat doorbell rang. Why didn’t Ben use his key? She’d given him one years ago. As she went to let him in she wondered why they’d never moved in together. They’d idly discussed it on a few occasions, but neither of their flats was really big enough for two people with many years of accumulated possessions. They’d both have had to sell up and buy something bigger together. Well, now they were going to get married they’d have to do that anyway. Gemma would miss her cosy little flat but was sure that she could make a house she shared with Ben just as comfortable and cosy.
‘Hey, gorgeous!’ Ben leaned over and kissed her as she opened the door. ‘My fiancée, no
‘Oh, no. I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that if I’ve no intention of…’ Gemma broke off speaking as the sales assistant returned, with the two dresses each on padded hangers and covered with plastic. The assistant glared at her, then hung the dresses on a hook beside the rubber plant.
‘I’ll fetch a chair for your friend,’ she said, while Nat began stripping off.
‘Oh, no, please don’t trouble yourself,’ Gemma said, but the sales assistant only glared at her again and brought an uncomfortable-looking gilt-backed chair from behind the sales counter. Gemma perched on it. It was as uncomfortable as it looked.
Nat had the black dress on. ‘What do you think?’ She twirled around, admiring herself in the mirror.
‘Not with those shoes,’ Gemma said. Nat was still wearing her red Converse trainers.
‘Obviously. Well, this one’s nothing special. I’ll try the other.’
The peacock dress looked good on Nat, Gemma had to admit. It fitted her perfectly, showed off her lovely legs and curvy waist, and her long black hair was stunning against the glittery top half. ‘Wow. That’s just amazing on you, Nat. Show me the price tag?’
Nat twisted so that Gemma could peer at the label hanging from the zip at the back. ‘There’s no price on it.’
‘I guess, if you have to ask…’ Nat rolled her eyes dramatically and peeled the dress off. Gemma had a fit of the giggles at Nat’s eye-roll, and Nat soon joined in. This was more like it, Gemma thought. The whole shopping trip should have been a girlie giggle, rather than all the snide comments and snippiness. Perhaps Nat’s hangover had finally worn off. It was good to end the day on a high note.
‘What’s the verdict, ladies?’ asked the sales assistant when they exited the changing room.
‘I don’t like the black one on me. The peacock is nice, but aren’t peacock feathers supposed to be bad luck? I’m not sure I could wear it, for that reason. Something awful might happen to me. I’d be constantly fearing for my safety.’ Nat breezed out of the shop. Gemma hurried after her, one hand clamped over her mouth to hold back the laughter that threatened to erupt. The shopping trip had certainly ended on a high.
That evening, Gemma rang her parents to tell them of her engagement. They were as delighted as she’d expected they’d be. Her mother immediately started planning the guest list while her father jokingly grumbled that he supposed he’d have to buy a new suit, even though he’d just retired.
Later, Ben came round to Gemma’s flat for a meal. She’d offered to cook fajitas for him. Their first meal together as an engaged couple! She sang along to Ed Sheeran’s
Thinking Out Loud
as she chopped onions and peppers. Perhaps they should have that song as the first dance at their wedding? It was so romantic; it was definitely one of her favourites. She’d ask Ben later what he thought. He’d probably agree. Dear old Ben, he was generally happy to go along with what other people wanted. Gemma knew already that the wedding preparations would be largely up to her to decide upon. Although no doubt her mum would want to get involved.
She had the tiny table in her kitchen set, the food chopped and ready to quickly cook, and a bottle of wine open when her flat doorbell rang. Why didn’t Ben use his key? She’d given him one years ago. As she went to let him in she wondered why they’d never moved in together. They’d idly discussed it on a few occasions, but neither of their flats was really big enough for two people with many years of accumulated possessions. They’d both have had to sell up and buy something bigger together. Well, now they were going to get married they’d have to do that anyway. Gemma would miss her cosy little flat but was sure that she could make a house she shared with Ben just as comfortable and cosy.
‘Hey, gorgeous!’ Ben leaned over and kissed her as she opened the door. ‘My fiancée, no
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