The Happiness Project: A laugh-out-loud and utterly feel-good romance by Helen Bridgett

Author:Helen Bridgett [Bridgett, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Choc Lit Contemporary Romance: A Joffe Books Company
Published: 2024-05-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One: Lady in Red

The red dress takes itself back to Patty’s so we can dump the clothes she came out in this morning and I can change into something a little more glamorous. It then hops onto the tram and into the city centre. Neither Patty nor I sit down; instead we hold the overhead rails as if we’re riding the subway in downtown New York. My slate-blue dress is nowhere near as eye-catching as Patty’s, but I’ve borrowed some of her scarlet lipstick and I feel invincible. I guess that’s why they call it warpaint.

‘Where shall we take Poppy?’ asks Patty, and I instantly realise that she’s named her dress.

‘As she’s new in town, I think we need to do some culture first — perhaps the art gallery?’ I reply. ‘Then dance class and a cocktail — what does she think to that?’

‘Oh, she’s very keen on both those ideas,’ says Patty, ‘particularly the cocktail part.’

Bizarrely, taking ‘Poppy’ out for the day feels far more exciting than if Patty and I had just decided to head into town. It’s as if we have a new friend and we’re honour-bound to show her a good time. We disembark near the beautiful central library and walk the short distance to Manchester Art Gallery. An early afternoon chill is starting to embrace the city now that we’re in the shadow of its splendid Victorian buildings but there’s no way we’re putting our coats on. We simply turn the walk into a stride and are soon through the glass doors of the entrance and back into warmth.

‘So, what would Poppy like to see?’ I ask as we look at the list of collections and exhibitions.

‘I think she’d like to see the costumes,’ Patty says. ‘To see if anything is as fabulous as she is.’

We head to the lift and press the button for the first floor. After all, we can’t walk the stairs and risk ruining our current levels of gorgeousness with underarm sweat stains, can we?

The collection is organised in chronological order, running from the Victorian to the modern age. Despite thinking ourselves the bee’s knees, these dresses showcase the most incredible craftsmanship.

‘I think even Poppy would have to admit we’d look fairly plain by these standards.’ I nod to an elaborate velvet dress with a full skirt.

‘She’s just pleased we no longer have to wear those.’ Patty points at a torturous-looking corset with an impossibly small waistline.

‘How on earth did they ever fit into those? Did they make women smaller back then?’

‘Smaller and often invisible,’ Patty says.

Beside the dress is a walnut parlour table with a silver tray containing sherry glasses, alongside an explanation that the dress would have been worn at social gatherings.

‘Although, if that’s the size of glass they drank from during their girls’ nights out, then maybe that explains things,’ Patty adds. ‘Compare that to a gin balloon.’

‘You couldn’t even fit an ice cube in that,’ I say. ‘They must have had the gin neat.’

We move through

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