My Heart on My Sleeve by Janet Thomas

Author:Janet Thomas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epub, ebook, QuarkXPress
ISBN: 978-1-906784-80-5
Publisher: Honno Press
Published: 2013-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

‘If we were to end up in some romantic, classical land, I should choose rabbit pie, Edward.

Always.

Augusta.’

One leg bone of a Lear.

(Explanation needed. Who knew what a Lear was? Flightless egregion. Extinct.)

The Jiltmaker

Sarah Todd Taylor

Every bride is beautiful. In this business you have to believe that. Even the ones with buck teeth and bad hair, the fat ones and the ones who’ve overdone the sunbed. It doesn’t matter what nature gave them, a bride must always be beautiful.

That’s where I come in.

I like to think of myself as a fairy godmother. I can pluck a dress off a rail, add a few well chosen accessories and the most dowdy duckling becomes a shimmering swan. They just have to trust me. If a girl puts herself entirely in my hands, then I can almost guarantee that on her wedding day her husband won’t be able to take his eyes off her. Double-take guaranteed is what I tell them.

And I like to think I’m good. In this trade you don’t really want repeat business, but I get a lot of word of mouth. Bridesmaids coming back for their own weddings, that sort of thing. So I have two rules – always be nice to the bridesmaids, but always make sure the bride looks better. They come back. They know I can make them look stunning.

The thing is, when you spend most of your life trying to make silk purses out of cows’ ears, it’s a rare treat when you get to try out your skills on a real beauty. So when she walked into the shop that Saturday, I knew something special was about to happen.

It was coming up to closing time. She hadn’t booked, just walked in and started to browse along the rail that I always keep at the front of the shop. I call it ‘the icebreaker’. It gives the girls something to look at as they pluck up the courage to ask for a bit of help. I always leave them there for a while, it gives me a chance to size them up a bit, think about whether I’ve got anything in stock that will suit. Sad to say, some take a bit longer than others.

The first thing I noticed was her hair, dark tendrils curling round the nape of her neck and tumbling across slender shoulders. One long curl fell down in front of her collarbone, where she idly twirled it round her fingers, the other hand (such beautiful hands) pushing the dresses on the icebreaker aside one by one.

She was wearing one of those hippy skirts. The ones with little bells on cords down the front. Dreadful things – those elasticated waists should be banned. Even so, she looked slim in it. Beautifully proportioned hips, quite an elongated hourglass. She could have worn anything and looked stunning. She was perfect, the ideal model. What a shame she hadn’t chosen something that would really show off her figure.

She was tall, but not so tall that I wouldn’t be able to put her in heels.

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