Wedding Belles by Sarah Webb

Author:Sarah Webb [Webb, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-7636-7026-9
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2014-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

As soon as I walk into Butterfly Bridal on Thursday with Mum and Clover, I know it’s going to be a long evening. I’ve never seen so many wedding dresses in one place in my life — dozens and dozens of them, all hanging on two ultra-long rails that run the length of the shop. Plus, the room is so white, it’s already giving me a headache. Walls, mirror frames, sofa, desk, carpet, computer, and, of course, wedding dresses — all bright, blinding white. They should offer visitors sunglasses. I sigh inwardly. I’ve had a rotten day in school, spent trying to avoid Seth so I don’t get upset, and I’m not exactly looking forward to being all chirpy and wedding-y.

“Is it just me or have we walked into a snowstorm, Beanie?” Clover whispers. It’s also the kind of place where you feel you have to lower your voice, like in a church.

“Nope, it really is blizzard a-go-go,” I say. “But the romantic music’s a nice touch.” The sound system is playing “My Heart Will Go On,” the theme song from Titanic.

Mum hasn’t moved since we entered the shop. She’s still standing in the middle of the white carpet, blinking rapidly.

“You OK, sis?” Clover asks her.

Mum nods, still looking a little bewildered. “Gosh, there are a lot of dresses, aren’t there, girls?”

A woman walks through the white velvet curtain at the back of the shop. She’s tall and slim, with long ash-blond hair and a small, perfectly oval face. She looks like an old-fashioned doll. There’s a slash of dark-pink lipstick on her full lips, and she’s wearing — guess what! — white from head to toe. A classy white cap-sleeve dress teamed with neat white kitten heels. Clover’s also looking smart in sunny-yellow woolen shorts, with a short black jacket, black tights, and Chelsea boots. Mum’s made an effort too, wearing fitted black trousers and her good cream raincoat that she rarely wears these days on account of the babies and their sticky hands. Yikes! I feel completely underdressed in my skinny jeans.

“Good evening,” the woman says politely. “Have you made an appointment?”

“Yes,” Clover says firmly. “Sylvie Wildgust and bridesmaids. Well, two out of three. Monique’s running late, but she’ll be here soon.” We’re lucky Monique is available at all. She’s flying back to London tomorrow morning, which is why we’re here tonight and not on the weekend. Luckily, Butterfly Bridal stays open late on Thursday.

The woman smiles. “Of course, the Wildgust party. Lovely. I’m Cassandra, and I’ll be assisting you this evening. Let me just check my notes.” She strides toward the desk and stares at the computer screen. “Ah, yes, I remember. Sylvie is the bride. Welcome, Sylvie.” She smiles at Mum. “And your wedding is on Tuesday, April thirtieth, is that correct?”

Clover and I both look at Mum, waiting for her to respond, but she still seems a bit shell-shocked and doesn’t answer, so Clover says, “That’s right.”

Cassandra tut-tuts. “We’re cutting it a little close, ladies. Most of our clients select their wedding gown at least six months before the wedding.

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